A long-standing blemish on my status as a film buff has been the fact that I had never seen a film directed by Akira Kurosawa, easily the most well-known and respected Japanese filmmaker. Finally, my drought has been broken, as I sat down last night to enjoy 'Nora inu / Stray Dog (1949).' A police procedural in the classic film-noir tradition, the film stars Kurosawa-regular Toshirô Mifune as a young homicide detective whose firearm is pick-pocketed while on a bus. When it becomes clear that the weapon has fallen into the hands of a desperate, murdering criminal, Det. Murakami becomes consumed with guilt and shame, and it is only through the experienced guidance of mentor Det. Sato (Takashi Shimura) that he can overcome his insecurities and track down the suspect. 'Stray Dog' was the director's tenth film, and the third in a wealth of collaborations with Mifune throughout an illustrious career. Though it is not quite the masterpiece I had {probably unreasonably} been anticipating, I can only promise that my first Kurosawa will certainly not be my last.<br /><br />Surprisingly, 'Stray Dog' is similar in many regards to Vittorio De Sica's neorealist masterpiece 'The Bicycle Thief (1948).' Both films concern a disillusioned man's seemingly-futile search for an essential stolen object, in a city of poor and pitiable individuals, where, in the aftermath of World War Two, widespread economic difficulties have forced many towards a life of crime. When Det. Murakami first begins searching for his stolen gun, there is a wonderful extended sequence in which he purposelessly wanders the poverty-stricken streets, experiencing the decadence of society for himself, for the first time understanding why a criminal might have been forced to tread a darkened path. A very important theme of the film is the obvious parallel between Det. Murakami and his suspect, Yusa (Isao Kimura). Both individuals fell on hard times when their knapsacks were stolen: while the former took the crucial step towards law enforcement, the latter chose the opposite path, eventually becoming a thief and a wanted murderer. In the story's climactic chase sequence, the two men tussle violently in the undergrowth, their faces becoming coated in a layer of mud; for a decisive few moments, detective and criminal are practically indistinguishable from each other.<br /><br />One component of film-making that Kurosawa had evidently mastered by 1949 was creating intensity, and, in many ways, 'Stray Dog' is simply discomforting to watch. The events of the film appear to take place during an extreme heatwave, and the perspiration clings to the skin of the actors as though they are practically roasting in their seats. When the story reaches a devastating climax, its arrival is heralded by the breaking of a storm, the passing of the sweltering drought perhaps symbolising that the dull, futile routine of police procedure has come to an end. I was also impressed by the frantic chase sequences at both the beginning and end of the film, which, aside from being exceptionally thrilling, were genuinely harrowing. Watching Murakami and Yusa grapple in the vegetation, before both collapsing to the ground in fatigue, I don't think I've ever seen film characters looking so utterly exhausted. Despite a masterful opening and closing, 'Stray Dogs' tended to drag a lot in the middle, with the two detectives moving from one possible witness to the other, very slowly gathering the information they require to track down their suspect. Nonetheless, I now have the massive undertaking of deciding which of Akira Kurosawa's films I will watch next.