The Buddy Cop movie genre could trace its origins to many places, like the student-mentor dynamics found in classic literature; however, if you ask a cinephile, there’s only one real answer: Stray Dog. Akira Kurosawa’s 1949 noir flick not only laid the groundwork for all future Buddy Cop movies to follow, but it also arguably perfected it.
Regarding the first point, the film is often considered the precursor to the genre, but that label feels outdated now. Judging by modern standards, Stray Dog features many of the elements we immediately associate with Buddy Cop films, in no small part because it invented them. So, it would be more appropriate to call it the first of its kind. In terms of the second point, Akira Kurosawa, unbeknownst to him, wasn’t working within the limitations of the genre. There was no blueprint for him to follow. This gives Stray Dog an edge over its contemporaries, as it manages to be a fantastic Buddy Cop movie in its own right, and an auteur film at the same time.
In hindsight, the film was able to pass the test of time, crowning itself as the first (and best) in the Buddy Cop genre. With his abilities as a filmmaker and his sensibility as a writer, Akira Kurosawa made a nuanced movie worth exploring. A piece of art that was more than the sum of its parts. And in the following review, we dive into the elements Kurosawa added to Stray Dog to make that possible.
The plot
Akira Kurosawa, as an Anton Chekhov fan, decided to open this story in a classic way: with a gun. Young detective Murakami, newly added to the homicides department, recently got his gun stolen with seven bullets in it. Out of fear of losing his job, Murakami embarks on a solitary quest to try to get it back. His rush attempts eventually lead to him prematurely arresting a woman who was selling firearms. His thief, who was about to return the gun, saw the arrest happen and out of desperation committed a murder, turning into the titular stray dog.
After this, we see the Buddy Cop aspect emerge, as Murakami allies himself with detective Sato. Sato, who is investigating the case of illegal firearms, is a much older and experienced officer, thus becoming Murakami’s mentor. With his help, Murakami slowly learns how to control his emotions and the guilt he feels over creating a murderer. The duo serves as the backbone of the movie, as their opposite views on life play off each other throughout the story.
Together, they’re able to capture an arms dealer, which gives them a lead onto Yusa, the thief turned murderer. In classic Buddy Cop fashion, the duo goes on to investigate an array of colorful characters that slowly get them closer to their target. Eventually, they found Harumi, a dancer who’s in a love affair with Yusa. Harumi’s reluctance to cooperate leads the two detectives to briefly separate, causing Sato to encounter Yusa alone, being shot in the process.
By the end, a changed Murakami, using all the knowledge he has gained from Sato, confronts Yusa. All seven bullets of the gun end up being fired, we enter a fist fight, and our detective arrests the stray dog he birthed into existence.
A Buddy Cop Movie
We’ve been mentioning the Buddy Cop movie genre throughout this review, but what exactly is it? In the simplest of terms, a Buddy Cop movie follows an unlikely duo of officers/detectives in their investigation. The pairing in question could be different because of race, ethnicity, age, etc. Often, one of them is portrayed as a wild card, while the other has a much more reserved personality. The classic Buddy Cop formula involves mutual learning between the two as they cooperate to resolve the case: the wild one learns to occasionally control himself, and the reserve one to occasionally be wild.
From this description alone, it should be obvious how Stray Dog fits into the narrative. Murakami, who starts as a wild officer, meets Sato, a much more reserved and experienced character, that opens his mind. The pair is different because of the age gap between them, which is relevant for a topic we’ll discuss later. One could argue it doesn’t completely fit the Buddy Cop formula, as it isn’t clear if Sato learns from Murakami. However, I would argue that this works in the film’s favor, as Sato’s reluctance to learn could be telling on itself.
The Buddy Cop genre isn’t without its flaws. For starters, its reliance on the formula makes many of the stories predictable. This is, partly, the reason why many of them tend to be comedies, as the tone could potentially outweigh the narrative structure. However, as we stated before, Akira Kurosawa wasn’t working within these parameters: he invented them. In addition to being a Buddy Cop movie, Stray Dog is an auteur film, something evident in the elements Kurosawa added to the story.
The heat of the moment
Perhaps one of the most interesting aspects of Stray Dog is how it uses the theme of heat. Throughout the story, the hot climate is mentioned countless times, with many characters stating how difficult it is to work under those conditions. This is further explored in the makeup department, as many shots of the movie show our characters sweaty. We even see them constantly fanning themselves and wiping off their sweaty faces.
Like many of Akira Kurosawa’s films, there is a plot and a thematic reason for the use of this element. Plot wise, it should be self-explanatory: things are heating up. As the case progresses and the detectives further their investigation, Yusa commits more murders. The race intensifies, the heat is turning up, and the detectives must act fast before it’s too late. This is also the reason why, in Sato’s confrontation with Yusa, we see the rain. Many other directors would use such elements to convey cliché sadness, but Kurosawa uses it as a form of closure. The heat has escalated to the point where the rain has shown up to calm things down. At the end, when the rain stopped, we see the final version of Murakami, finally in control of the situation.
The thematic reason for the heat has to do with its historical context. Stray Dog was made, and its set, in early post-war Japan, with many of the characters being war veterans. The post-war Reconstruction Era left many of these people “astray”, so the heat is used as a metaphor for that. One can either succumb to the heat and become like the villain, or overcome it and be like the hero.
One day away
Adding to what was said in the previous section, there is a duality between detective Murakami and Yusa. For starters, they were both war veterans looking for a better life in post-war Japan, but one became a cop and the other a criminal. Additionally, it is also said that Yusa had his backpack stolen while on a train ride, which mirrors how Murakami’s gun was stolen in the beginning of the film. According to Yusa’s sister, whom the detectives interviewed, Yusa started his shady activities after what happened to his backpack.
We now must return to the film before Sato’s introduction, when this wasn’t a Buddy Cop movie and Murakami was searching for his gun alone. In this section, Murakami goes undercover as a regular everyday worker. In a montage, we see him become increasingly uneasy and aggressive as the environment aggravates his lack of clues. This is partly the reason why the arrest of the arms’ trafficking woman was so rushed: he was desperate. Considering this event is the in-universe reason for the first murder, there is a sense that Murakami was one bad day away from becoming just like Yusa.
This is explored further in the story when we consider how Murakami experiences guilt. At first, we can see he feels guilty over the murders being committed, as it’s his gun doing the killing; however, as the film progresses, we realize part of his guilt comes from the fact he could see himself in Yusa shoes. Murakami’s character arc is simultaneously about confronting Yusa, and empathizing with him. As he himself said, “there are no bad people in this world, just bad environments”.
Sato and Murakami
As previously stated, the backbone of the story, what makes it a Buddy Cop film, is the relationship between Sato and Murakami. So, what about it? Well, Sato, as a much older officer, has a view of the world according to a set-in-stone social order. He, in many ways, is representative of the ideal Japanese vision before the Reconstruction Era. Murakami, on the other hand, has a personality indicative of the identity crisis that post-war Japan has brought. One believes everyone is a victim of their environment, and the other that, once a criminal, always a criminal.
In one of the best scenes in the movie, the two discuss these aspects of life after visiting Yusa’s house. Murakami is surprised by the filth in which Yusa was raised and believes a better environment could’ve prevented everything. Sato thinks there is no salvation for Yusa, “let the writers analyze the prisoner’s minds. I hate them.” By the end, Murakami comes to see Sato’s point, there’s nothing fair in a damaged person extending that to others; however, when he finally arrests Yusa, he watches with admiration as the stray dog weeps and screams. Maybe, just maybe, the weight of his action finally caught onto him, and Murakami was there to witness it.
The movie, quite smartly, doesn’t definitively say which of the opposing views is the correct one: it’s up to the viewer to decide. However, it also wants you to consider a middle ground, where we can both aspire to civil peace and to understand others’ situations. Caring for people, it says, goes beyond policing.
Cinematography and Music
Even this early into his career, an Akira Kurosawa film with great cinematography and music is a given. He already had an eye for talented people, which allowed his movies to go above and beyond expectations.
With help from photography director Azakazu Nakai, the film manages to look beautiful from beginning to end. Meditative scenes are treated with the care they deserve, with the camera focusing on a single individual at a time. Occasionally, these scenes will take the form of a single shot whose composition is telling on itself. Characters will appear with contrasting heights, surrounded by the chaos of the moment, made to feel small, big, or lost. Additionally, thrilling and action-packed sequences feel exciting while never becoming incomprehensible. Every single movement is perfectly clear, allowing the actors to guide the situation with their movements alone. From a single shot of the movie, one could tell which character is in control of the situation, who’s losing it, and what’s going on.
In terms of music, this was among the first of Kurosawa’s collaborations with legendary composer Fumio Hayasaka. Though he is mostly known for the scores of Rashomon and Seven Samurai, Hayasaka’s work on Stray Dog is nothing to scoff at. In the movie, he mixed western romantic elements with some traditional Japanese sounds. This allows the film to present itself as a unique take on the noir genre: a Japanese interpretation of it. The sound of the movie conjures images of detective life, but it also transports you to the Japanese post-war setting. The soundtrack doesn’t have the orchestral qualities his later work would, but again, it doesn’t need to. It’s intimate and to the point, fitting and adding to the already amazing feel and look of the movie.
Conclusions
Seventy-five years after its release, Akira Kurosawa’s Stray Dog continues to be a thrilling and profound piece of art. Even though it may seem distant from the Buddy Cops movies of today, a quick look will reveal how much the genre owes to it. Beat for beat, the film will feel familiar to any fan of the style, as they’ll recognize many elements present. However, it will also feel like a breath of fresh air, as it’s covered with layers of meaning.
Everything from the themes, setting, characters, soundtrack and cinematography comes together to create a unique experience. The talent on display is indicative of a director who cares immensely about the medium and the art that comes out of it. A director we all know as Akira Kurosawa. Stray Dog is quite different from his more famous movies, as he is mostly known for pioneering the historical-fiction genre; but the things that made those later films special were already present in Stray Dog. The film was the first and best in the Buddy Cop genre, and should be considered among Kurosawa’s other masterpieces.