That Time Wes Anderson Made a Movie About a Kid and His Dog on a Train

You know, I think Wes Anderson has this unique talent for making you feel nostalgic for things you never actually experienced. His movies are like little, perfect dioramas. And one of his most charming, and maybe a bit underrated, films that does this is *Isle of Dogs*. Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Isle of Dogs? That’s the one with all the stop-motion dogs, right?” Yeah, it is, but at its heart, it’s a classic “pets on a train” story, just wrapped in Anderson’s signature style.

The whole premise is just so wonderfully weird and specific, which is classic Anderson. It’s set in a fictional Japanese city called Megasaki in the near-future. The mayor, a cat person of course, exiles all dogs to a vast trash island because of a supposed “dog flu” outbreak. The first dog to be sent away is Spots, the bodyguard dog of a 12-year-old boy named Atari Kobayashi. So, Atari, being a brave and loyal kid, does what any of us would want to do for our pet. He “borrows” a tiny, rickety junior jet plane and crashes it on Trash Island to go find his dog.

That’s where the “train” part comes in, in a way. The island itself becomes this desolate, sprawling landscape that the characters journey across. It’s not a literal train with cars and tracks, but the feeling is the same. It’s a linear journey through unfamiliar territory, with a group of characters thrown together by circumstance. Atari teams up with a pack of stray dogs—led by a scruffy, formerly-domesticated dog named Chief—and their trek across the island to find Spots feels exactly like an epic, perilous train ride through a strange land. They hop on makeshift trolleys, ride conveyor belts, and move from one section of the trash-strewn island to another. The rhythm of their journey has that same episodic, stop-and-start feel of a train making its way through different stations and landscapes.

The voice cast for the dogs is just incredible. You’ve got Bryan Cranston as Chief, the tough-on-the-outside but soft-on-the-inside stray. Edward Norton is Rex, the earnest former leader of the pack. Bill Murray, of course, is there as Boss, because what’s a Wes Anderson movie without Bill Murray? And then you have Jeff Goldblum as Duke, who’s famous for knowing all the gossip, and Bob Balaban as King, who can understand TV broadcasts. It’s a star-studded pack, but their performances are so good that you quickly forget it’s them and just see the characters. I remember watching it and just feeling so invested in this scrappy group of canines.

The animation is where the film really becomes a work of art. Stop-motion is already a painstaking process, but Anderson and his team make every single frame feel deliberate and beautiful. The texture of the dogs’ fur, made out of real raccoon fur, is amazing. You can almost feel it. The way they use a limited color palette, with lots of rusty browns, greys, and muted reds for the island, makes the occasional splash of color—like Atari’s bright yellow pilot suit—really pop. It doesn’t feel like a cartoon for kids; it feels like a moving painting. I once spent a whole afternoon just watching behind-the-scenes footage of how they made the sushi-making scene, and the level of detail is mind-boggling.

Now, the film did get some criticism for its cultural representation. It’s set in Japan, uses Japanese characters and cultural touchstones, but is voiced predominantly by American actors. Some critics felt it was a case of cultural appropriation, of using an aesthetic of “Japaneseness” as a backdrop for a story told by Westerners. That’s a conversation worth having, and I think it’s good to be aware of that perspective when watching it. Anderson has said his intention was to pay homage to Japanese cinema, especially the works of Akira Kurosawa and the animator Hayao Miyazaki. You can definitely see those influences in the film’s composition and its themes of a journey through a polluted, industrial wasteland.

But if you strip all that away, the core of the movie is incredibly simple and universal. It’s about a boy and his dog. It’s about loyalty. Atari never gives up on Spots, even when everyone tells him it’s hopeless. And the dogs, despite their bickering and their tough exterior, ultimately have a deep-seated need for a “master,” for that human connection. The relationship that develops between the fiercely independent Chief and the determined, kind-hearted Atari is the real emotional engine of the film. It’s a story that makes you want to go hug your own pet.

I think *Isle of Dogs* is a great film to watch if you’re a fan of animation, of Wes Anderson, or just of good, heartfelt stories. It’s quirky, for sure, but its heart is in the right place. It takes this simple idea—a pet and his boy trying to find each other—and turns it into a grand, visually stunning adventure. It’s a testament to the idea that the bond we share with our pets is powerful enough to launch us on epic journeys, even if that journey is just across a trash-filled island. It’s a movie that stays with you, not just for its style, but for the genuine emotion at its center.