An Appreciation for The Plague Dogs

As a lover of dogs, stop-motion animation, animation with complex adult themes in general, and about half of Wes Anderson’s filmography, I’m looking forward to checking out the director’s latest, Isle of Dogs. As artistically significant and unique as Anderson’s work is, even his staunchest defenders would agree that he tends to repeat very similar themes, styles and narrative patterns, to a point where he pretty much has created his own indie sub-genre. For a clever and affectionately humorous breakdown of those patterns, have a look at this Wes Anderson Honest Trailer.
Isle of Dogs isn’t Anderson’s first foray into snarky anthropomorphic stop-motion animals. (See Fantastic Mr. Fox.) Nor is Isle of Dogs the first PG-13-rated animated talking dog movie with adult themes featuring independent-minded canine characters out there. That honor goes to the underappreciated masterpiece, The Plague Dogs. Released in 1982 with little to no fanfare, the film was a major box-office failure and was forgotten for a while, only to be resurrected recently as a cult favorite by audiences who appreciate it as a unique and original vision in animated film history.
The Plague Dogs was based on Richard Adams’ novel and directed by Martin Rosen. For those Gen-Xers and early Millennials traumatized by Watership Down as children, a seemingly cute animated classic about a group of cuddly bunnies that turns into a blood-and-death-filled examination of the inherent moral indifference of nature, these names should be familiar. Yes, The Plague Dogs is by the same writer and the same director, and its relentlessly brutal and shockingly realistic approach to the animal world makes Watership Down look exactly like the cuddly bunny movie your five-year-old self thought it was when your badly informed parent rented the VHS tape.
Supported by a mesmerizing watercolor-style animation that captures the somewhat drab but undeniably soothing nature of Northern England, Adams and Rosen use the plot of two dogs running away from an abusive medical animal testing facility in search of freedom to examine complex adult themes with unbridled passion. Those themes include the fallacy of unhinged animal cruelty even in the service of research, how being put in a desperate situation can turn us into wild cornered animals who are prone to unspeakable acts that go against even our mostly benign natural disposition, and most importantly, the significance of being able to take fate into one’s own hands, no matter how inevitably tragic that fate might be. You know, standard animated dog movie stuff.