DO YOU THINK IT WILL END WITH THAT?!

Inu-oh (犬王, english translation: King of Dogs, Dog King) is the titular character and the main protagonist of the movie. He was born with a marred presence, to the point that he has been treated as a pet dog by his family for a long time. Then, as he discovers the magic of music and the joy of dancing, he gains a pair of legs, which allows him to not only be seen as something more of a human being, but the ability to finally break loose from his family's garden and kick off his own tale.

He is, all things considered, a positive lad. To contrast the bitter drops of quiet anger of Tomoari's character, he is mostly seen as someone carefree and happy. Even though he is not treated with equality, nonetheless he does not seem to cause as much trouble or revenge upon the world which he was born into. Sure, he roams around in joy the first time he gains the ability to walk properly, and he causes some trouble with authorities, yet it all feels like good old childish fun. In the moment he discovers another person who's reaction to his presence is not something he expects (anger or shock, even disgust), he kinda just, stops? With only able to follow his line of thought with noticing Tomona's biwa. The movie leaves interpretation to the viewer on the character's emotions, and I like it that way. In my interpretation their first meet was like seeing and getting one of the things humans make humans: Connection. Throughout just the most core joy of enjoying art, music and the rhythm it gives you, he connects to another human being as an equal for the first time, not as a nuisance or as a pet. He doesn't seem to be phased by Tomona's question of what his name is, yet it felt like to me that his brave declarance that his name is chosen by himself was like a secret he has been longing to speak to the world.

That said world just happened to be lesser than this initial concept of it. The world of nature and animals are one which is far and wide, yet the human's world of connection is one that can open to you by just one person. Tomona was the person who gave Inu-oh that first step into that world, so it is then logical he gets to hear this declaration first.

Or, in the simple ways. This was the meeting of two children who were not able to connect to another person within their age due to their cirumstances, but by meeting with one another they were capable of that.

Inu-oh does not have a name in the movie yet, is the thing. I am going to be completely honest here and admit, I did not know what was the title referring to originally when I sat down to watch the movie for the first time in theaters. And the movie itself, when you think about it does not even highlight this factor either. The pause between Tomona asking of his name, and him saying "it's not like anyone ever calls me" goes in a natural manner, us seeing Tomona's surprise and confusion over the response, yet nothing overly dramatic which might give us things such as unneeded drama or sadness. Yet, I managed to feel a pang of empathy over this ragtag kid, who seemingly was only treated as something rather than someone for such a long time. Hell, he might not even consider himself yet as someone, and if so, maybe he just thinks of himself as something above humans (after all, his legs were earned out of nowhere in a magical manner, and he calls himself "the fearsome gourd" before bumping onto Tomona)

Time passes, and the new design for Inu-oh while has the same base elements of his kid look (gourd mask, color palette), to me it is interesting how he looks much more covered than before. His hand around his head is hidden behind a hood, he wears pants now, and the brief time we see him in this design he is being kicked by his father or sitting by the hill. Yet, seemingly his positivity is not gone: He still tries to dance to prove his worth (and by how the musicians join along with him, he has talked and shared Tomoichi's melody which they played by the bridge years ago), and he still says that his physical appearance is not all that bad. Yet he ponders on why is he looking like this, to which Tomoichi thinks it might be a curse, a play on the spirits. Not like he knows any spirits however, but surprisingly Tomoichi does, as they can talk with their long deceased father.

Turns out, he was not alone ever since he was born. He has been followed by hundreds of spirits, souls of the Heike soldiers who have been lost to war, their stories never told. Thus, his journey begins, swearing to tell each and every tale of these lost people who were on the forgotten side of history, declaring with proudness that his name is Inu-oh and he's here with chapters never heard before.

Sarugaku as a form of art has not been turned into the more prestigious form of Noh as it is being kept alive today. Yet, within the tale we do see just the dawn of that era, with the performers Fujiwaka (who changes his name to Zeami down the line) and Ka'ami performing for nobles and the shogun, having a fame which is reserved for only those who are in the higher echelons of the class system. Within this context of history, or at least how the movie paints it, fame is a horserace and Kenza is the group which seems to be winning.

Interestingly though, the movie does not make the tale of Inu-oh explicitly one which tries to rival or make a villain out of the other performer school. To me, the story is much rather focused on celebrating Inu-oh as who he is and his performances. Even within his first show this is evident: Inu-oh declares his name (for the first time within the story), and instantly the focus is on the battle which he is detailing, rather than on himself. It's all about celebration: He, to the audience within the story, who can be anyone and from any class group, tells a chapter which the world has never heard of. The movie itself then tells this tale to us, about this Noh artist who went from a cast away being to someone the whole country of Japan knows about. And these performances, like mentioned before, are all free to see by anyone.

Inu-oh's first performance, "Burial Mound of Arms" is performed in the middle of the capital, under a bridge, a space which most people don't even care about and is cast aside. Yet it is turned into a place of art, of theater, and along with this Inu-oh makes the viewersjoin in with clapping to his play. This is another thing which is unique to his performance: In traditional Noh, the performer and the audience don't mingle. Like we have seen it during Fujiwaka's play, he is within an entirely different space from the audience. Yet Inu-oh, in contrast to this, allows the viewer to perform with him, take part within this celebration in all its loud emotional earnesty.

There needs to be a mention of the transformation Inu-oh goes through the story and during the performances. From magically gaining a pair of legs, which snowballs him into a path of turning more and more conventionally human down the line. It feels like a gift from the Heike, for the celebration he gives to them and to their stories. Even he says it at one point: This is not a curse on him. If anything it is a gift that he can hear them, and each time he puts on a show they are happier and happier over it, as they feel like they are truly here again, on earth, with all these people as if death has never taken them. The style of these stories definitely got a flavor of drama and fire in them, as oppposed to the tragedy and mourning one might give to these type of spirits. 'Burial Mound of Arms' is an angry shout about the soldiers fallen onto battle instead of a pitiful mourning, 'The Whale' still believes that those diviners, those symbols of luck (the dolphins) will come even if it takes years for them to appear. 'Dragon Commander' outright lets us SEE the Dragon itself, the palace which the prince has been sank down to the sea for, which he and the troupe he has created with Tomoari have finally found.

One might ask the question though: Was the mask being finally lifted off of Inu-oh truly something that they needed? The story only shows Inu-oh twice after this triumph. First, by the shogun's palace, finally being acknowledged by that beforehand mentioned higher class, yet it just sounds... odd, isn't it? His skills mostly mentioned as "beautiful", which so far has never exactly been the point of these performances. Sure, Dragon Commander specifically uses moves referencing ballet dancing, which is beautiful. And Noh itself is an art form that talks about beauty and what can make that beauty within a performance. But if Inu-oh's face was not changed before he was unmasked, if his ending was not to the shogun's liking.... this praise might have never been said. To me, this beauty felt more like artificial standard based on conventional human looks, rather than the actual skill here. Let's not forget that the shogun favoured Fujiwaka this whole time, even in historical texts in real life mentioning how much of a patreon he was of the performer. And how the movie itself mentions that Fujiwaka was so beautiful, he was performing without a mask (an exception to traditional Noh, made entirely due to the shogun's preferences) more often than not. So was that praise truly meaningful? It might have been. Historical texts did leave us with at least Inu-oh's name written down. He was said to be rivaling Fujiwaka for the shogun's favor according to some sources.

Inu-oh's stories "went too far" in an age where uniting the nation was way more important to the people who had the power to say on what is right or wrong. His fate was instantly being turned into one that was in the hands of the shogun: He could say that he will not perform his stories anymore, or he will not comply and potentially face wrath brought upon him by the government.

The nail to that coffin was one thing: He must also abandon Tomoari. The one person who has been there with him, appreciated him, was maybe his one true friend in this whole wide world. And now, he has to cut all ties with them, just so they won't get executed.

One might call his decision to obey to these orders cowardice, and, really I can't blame you. Inu-oh is less of a confrontational person than his friend, and has a good natured attitude about him which makes him a pacifist. I think, in a way, all he desired even in his childhood as connection, and with Tomoari he could actually experience it in an almost romanticized manner. And to hear that if he even thinks of rebelling, that might cost his dear friend's life? He is not ready for that. He would rather put on another facade again just for his friend's safety.

The Last Scene of his human life is especially profound to me by this point. Inu-oh, the dancer who has risen to the highest stage he could achieve, dancing all alone and in complete silence. Surrounded by no other human being, nor animal, as a rain of sakura flowers accompany him. His expression is completely blank, dressed and acting just as the tradition desires. Without even knowing what fate did his friend truly met, all he can do is to obey to rules decided not by him but by powers beyond him.

History has forgotten his chapters, his performances, and his story. Only his name is not faded out of it, yet even that is only as a footnote in Zeami's art, only worth mentioning to give context to an artist which the higher powers and fate have favored more.

Despite everything, I love Inu-oh. He feels like a character who is pretty much under powers that are way beyond him. If this was any other story they might frame his decisiion to obey to the shogun as selfish, as cowardice, but to me those very few seconds of him almost exploding and then, as he heard the shogun's threat on his friend's life, obeying was just genuinely human. Under an authorian force which he got, in my opinion trapped under, of course he might think this is the only choice he could make

I am not here to ask if this is what you would have done, since that feels redundant. But it was not a decision decided by him, nor something his own desires really wanted. Would he have chosen this if he was not threatened with his friend's life being taken away? I believe he would not, given how much anger was within his voice just minutes before in that scene.

In a way, I think the last moment in the scene also just tells us how much did Tomoari mean to Inu-oh. Despite the movie clearly telling us that ghosts can move on willingly, despite the fact that the Heike spirits all moved on by that point, Inu-oh did not. He in fact remained even after death, for 600 years. So far most of the spirits we see in the movie are only there for some sort of revenge, for retribution or rememberance of who they were. Tomoari's spirit form also is part of this: They restlessly retell the tale of their troupe, which the government has destroyed and history has forgotten. They still tell the tale of Inu-oh as a form of rememberance, and to that once again Inu-oh breaks the conventions within the movie.

He might be a ghost, a lost soul wandering, but he does not bother with being remembered by the world of the living. He is simply in massive need to find his friend, his partner, for once a ghost in this tale not seeking out any living human but just another lost spirit who has been waiting for him the same amount of time. Upon reuniting, on the same bridge they once bumped into each other, Inu-oh changes from his human form that was coated in convention. His shape returns back to the one which he had as a child, when he met Tomoari for the first time, paralleling his friend transforming back to their own child state. These states are not only both in a rose hue, but also clear and full compared to the vague form we saw Inu-oh's ghost in, or the almost vengeful spirit of Tomoari before he arrived.

But they're finally here. Together again. And maybe that's all that mattered to them both after such a long journey.