Stray Dog (1949)

For my first Akira Kurosawa film in more than a year, I chose one that Kurosawa himself didn't think much of but that has enjoyed plenty of popularity, as well as at least one remake. It also reputedly was a lot of fun for the makers, which I find surprising for such a serious work.

Murakami (young Toshirô Mifune), a novice police detective in the Tokyo homicide division, has just bombed at a shooting range when his day gets worse: A pickpocket on the trolley takes his fully loaded compact pistol. Fearing for his career among other things, he tries to trace the gun himself. When a bullet fired in a crime matches one retrieved from a memorable misfire at his target practice, he asks to team up with a more experienced detective, Satō (Takashi Shimura).

Yes, it's very simple from a plot standpoint. Not very intriguing from a mystery standpoint either; it's more of a police procedural, with plain deductions from interviewing the right people. The hard part is in finding those who both know something and can be made willing to talk.

This is not to say that it's predictable. There are a few events I didn't anticipate, including the precise nature of the ending. But you won't have to stay alert beyond reading the subtitles.

I can see some of early Kurosawa's artistry involved. He seems more interested in credibility than anything fanciful, not least with regard to Murakami's trips into seedier areas. If there's a director's signature, it's the likely metaphorical weather: Characters keep complaining about the hot summer and expecting rain.

Speaking of metaphor, the title refers to Yusa (Isao Kimura), the budding yakuza who's been using the gun in armed robberies (not the same as the pickpocket). After learning about him, Murakami likens him to a dog on the verge of going rabid. This impression bears out pretty well when we finally meet Yusa. Murakami is disturbed at how well he can relate.

Indeed, the biggest running theme I detect in SD is Murakami's sense of guilt. Not only did he make an unprofessional mistake in losing his gun; he feels responsible for where each of those bullets went. (I find it a little odd that everyone assumes Yusa couldn't get his hands on a refill.) Satō tries to assure him that Yusa would've done the same with another gun, but that's not the only factor in play: In following the trail, Murakami has made Yusa more desperate. I imagine that a traditional Japanese mindset would multiply the shame, tho Murakami's superiors generally think he needs to relax a bit.

I give SD credit for being one of the first Japanese detective movies and a sort of forerunner to the buddy cop subgenre. But to enjoy it on its own merits, you'd best not expect much more than Mifune's pained expressions.