Takeda (Shun Sugata) is promoted from a lowly beat officer to the investigations department. While the money is good, helping to support his pregnant wife (Harumi Inoue), he soon discovers that corruption is rife in the force, with the police taking a cut from Yakuza drug deals. On the orders of his superiors he carries out his duty diligently, the line between right and wrong slowly vanishing from sight. When a new recruit, Roppo, starts at Takeda’s old police job he is shown the ropes by two older patrolmen, who give him an insight into how they operate and the various scams they perpetrate with immunity. After a run in with the police in which he is beaten up for prying in their business, a bar owner, Kusama (Junichi Kawamoto), and his photo journalist friend, Kitamura (Kunihiko Ida), set out to expose the corruption in the police force that goes right to the top.
Gen Takahashi’s film is a cross between a morality play and an investigative documentary. While the characters and plot are fictional, there is a chilling ring of truth to everything. The inspiration for the story came from Takahashi’s friend, journalist Yu Terasawa, who has worked on uncovering police corruption. The low-level officers are shown to be violent and horny, abusing their position to commit assault and even rape. The conspiracy of silence surrounding them allows them to act without fear of reprisal. The detectives are no less reprehensible, although more organized in their lawbreaking, with everything from entrapment, witness intimidation, drug use, frequenting prostitutes, protection rackets and bribery on display. The film is unrelenting in its depiction of the police as a force for evil in society, with not a single redeemable character among them. Shun Sugata’s performance as Takeda perfectly captures the fall of an honest, gentle man into his role as just another cog in the corrupt machinery of the state. His monologue at the end is spine-chilling as he tears apart the thin veil of respectability to show the police for what they truly are. Although the script is heavy in detail, with Takahashi clearly wanting to get across as much as possible about all the various ways the police are corrupt, it does a decent job of weaving it into a cohesive narrative. It never comes across as a lecture on the evils of the police. Takeda’s wife and daughter offer further emotional weight to the drama, being emblematic of the life he is leaving behind when he becomes further involved with the scandals that are unfolding. “Confessions of a Dog” features some standout direction, at times like a police procedural, at others using theatrical techniques with lighting changes and monologues to make a strong point.
Police corruption is a serious issue and one that citizens should rightly be aware of given the trust that is placed in them. The film is all the more shocking for the realistic way in which it portrays police corruption from the lowest to the highest levels. Most crime films exaggerate to the point that they are hard to believe, but nothing that is shown here seems unbelievable. The film comments on the nature of this corruption as something that is inseparable from the police force, with the hierarchical structure and solidarity amongst officers engendering these behaviours. There are echoes of fascism in the idea that officers are ‘only following orders’ from their superiors. It blames a supine press, essentially repeating official statements to a largely oblivious public for the problem; offering a faint hope that people could be better informed and take action to prevent these things happening. An epic police drama that meticulously details corruption in the force, while at the same time telling a heart-breaking personal story about how such organizations can turn even good natured individuals into unquestioning servants of a damaging system.