Dogged as Ever
Another day, another Japanese dog movie. But how do you crap on a cute japanese dog movie?
haw
Director: Isshin Inudo • Writers: Isshin Inudo, Hiroshi Saito
Starring: Kei Tanaka, Elaiza Ikeda, Itsuki Nagasawa, Nobuko Miyamoto, Toru Nomaguchi, Renji Ishibashi, Makiko Watanabe, Serena Motola, Gaku Hosokawa
Japan • 1hr 58mins
Opens Hong Kong September 29 • IIA
Grade: B
Haw | ハウ is one of those movies that you just can’t be utterly bitchy about. I mean, you could, but you’d just guarantee yourself a ticket to hell for it. It’s a cute dog. How dare you. Haw also comes from what feels like a long line of Japanese remarkable dog movies, from 1987’s legendary The Tale of Hachiko to 2010’s Kinako, about the loser wannabe police dog who defies the odds, and the next year’s Star Watching Dog, possibly the ultimate Very Good Boy tearjerker. They’re not alone of course. Everyone makes dog movies, because PUH-PPIES! (note that this rarely happens with cats, because cats are assholes and don’t care if you live or die, speaking from experience). So it would be easy to pick apart Haw’s various flaws – there are leaps in logic that would end the story in about five minutes should anyone decide to start adulting, the script envelops serious issues in contemporary Japan in shameless sentimentality, it’s too long – but that’s not Haw’s raison d’être. Haw is about loyalty, joy friendship and finding the mettle to move ahead despite the challenges thrown at us. So you have two choices: grumble about the manipulativeness of it all, or let it wash over you and go along for the ride. I recommend the latter.
PUPPY!!
Despite its origins, Haw has more in common with the cheeseball 1960s (and ’70s) Canadian kids’ show The Littlest Hobo/Le Vagabond (because Canada so of course it has two titles) than any one dog film. The episodic action starts in Yokohama, where office drone Tamio Akanishi (Kei Tanaka) gets dumped by his fiancée and then humiliated at work – which appears to be the marriage registry at City Hall. Talk about salt in an open wound. His boss Shiro (Toru Nomaguchi) embarrasses him, but there’s method to his madness: his wife Reiko (Makiko Watanabe) runs an animal shelter, and they’ve decided Tamio is the perfect candidate to adopt a sweet, white, tragically silent shaggy dog. He’s got a big empty house now, after all. Needless to say he does, names him “Hau” (to mimic the quasi-bark, the result of having his vocal cords cut, my god don’t mutilate your animals!) and proceeds with the bonding. But an errant tennis ball sends Haw thousands of kilometres away, and Tamio to despair of ever finding him. Eventually, he declares him dead and tries to move on.
But Haw’s not dead, and on his incredible journey home, he encounters random people – a teenaged girl, Mai (Itsuki Nagasawa), shunned by her peers and teased as “radioactive” for being a survivor of Fukushima, Shizu (Nobuko Miyamoto), a widowed umbrella shop owner in a dying arcade who’s grieving the death of her husband (Renji Ishibashi), and a battered wife on the run in a convent, Megumi (Serena Motola), who also has a deeper attachment to Haw than we first realise. Pooch drops into lives, helps everyone reconcile whatever needs emotional reconciliation, and goes on his merry way.
Angry, not dead
Are umbrella shops a thing?
Does Haw make it home? Is he reunited with Tamio? Does he bring Tamio and the woman he’s destined to be with, oddball co-worker Momoko (Elaiza Ikeda), who’s dealing with the death of her own beloved pet, together? What the hell do you think? Of course all that happens. It’s a cute dog movie buoyed by some Lonely Planet photography of Japan. The point isn’t really action and adventure (this isn’t The Incredible Journey), nor is it a screed on animal cruelty (though it drops some subtle jabs about buying animals for status). It’s a gentle, fluffy tale of perseverance and companionship, in whatever form it may come in. Haw makes everyone’s life just a little better, including Tamio’s, who comes out of his awkward, self-imposed shell on his search for his best friend. It’s predictable. It’s easy going down. It’s nice, if bittersweet. And, yeah. That dog is pretty cute. — DEK