Labrador Quill is chosen from among a brood of puppies to undergo training to become a guide dog. Starting with a year long course in human contact, Quill is gradually developed to be an invaluable tool for the visually impaired and his natural ability to obey commands makes him an early graduate from the school. His new client, the curmudgeonly Mr. Watanabe, is initially reticent about needing a guide dog and tries to remain independent despite the suggestions of those around him. After a few valuable hours with Quill though, Watanabe begins to rely on the dog and begrudgingly accepts his furry friend as a helper. Over the upcoming months the canine and the human bond with the latter introducing the former to his beloved wife and children.

There's a lot to be said for a simple tale told well. The idea may have passed on into the realms of cliché, but Asian cinema still seems fully capable of taking basic ideas and injecting them with needed humanity. 'Quill' starts with a leisurely, almost faltering pace and comes worryingly close to appearing like a moderately interesting documentary. However, beyond the uneasiness of the first twenty minutes lies a very traditional story of friendship and reliance, closing with a few moments that draw a tear to the eye. To get such delicate emotions from such a potentially contrived scenario is testament to the execution of universal themes.

The use of a pooch protagonist to act as the narrative kernel is often used, but Yoichi Sai - working from the film's literary source - also uses the human characters as transitory players in Quill's life. The downside of this approach is the tendency to view the humans as mere cogs to advance the story. Nevertheless, the film uses Quill as its focal point and his subsequent friendship with Mr. Watanabe proves to be far more rewarding than any needless sub-plots or dramas. It is, therefore, a double-act and any unnecessary baggage is ignored by Sai.

'Quill' has the stripped-bare minimalism that delicately flavours much of Japanese cinema's most cherished work. From sparring use of music to lingering photography, this is a film that dispenses with overwrought soundtracks or histrionics. Despite an unnecessary and slightly infantile voice-over, 'Quill' chooses its cinematic devices carefully even during the more heartfelt moments. The result is a film where the moments of silence or simple close-ups on the characters have as much impact as any heavy dramatics.

It may not appear to be a movie for everyone, but 'Quill' is a pleasingly crafted work that delivers on its simple premise. A laudable film with a mixture of the heart-warming and the heart-wrenching, 'Quill' is well worth 100 minutes of anyone's time.

Shamelessly manipulative but undeniably effective, anyone who has ever adopted a dog (or a cat, for that matter) into their family will likely respond to Quill (Kuiiru, 2004) with a cathartic release of emotion and tears. Based on a true story about a guide dog for the blind, the film is admirably unsentimental and straightforward but also directed with scads of heart-tugging shots that follow the title pooch from cradle-to-grave.

That basic concept is a good one. The film is essentially a doggie biography, following Quill as he's selected for a rigorous training program that recruits animals that are not only intelligent and pliable, but have a personality best suited to what amounts to a 24-7 job. Trainer Satoshi Tawada (Kippei Shiina) struggles with Quill, who has difficulty adjusting to the very particular demands of a guide dog and almost gets cut from the program. Then, when he's finally assigned a newly-blind master, Mitsuru Watanabe (Kaoru Kobayashi), his new owner proves to be both obstinate and in poor health, so that he's not an ideal match for Quill, either.

In this sense Quill is realistic and believable. The beautiful Labrador is no Lassie; he makes mistakes not because he's stupid but because he's essentially a pretty ordinary dog with slightly above average intelligence. Nor is his blind owner a saint. Watanabe is difficult and anti-social, and much of his unhappiness is self-inflicted. The resolution of their relationship is no audience pleaser, but it's honest.

Indeed, Quill is the kind of movie that Japanese audiences adore and and which utterly terrify Hollywood studio executives, even though an American remake of Quill potentially could go through the roof box-office wise. The similarly unsentimental March of the Penguins may be a sign that Hollywood is beginning to wise up about the market for such pictures, but a key component of Quill's story - dogs eventually get old and get sick and die - would immediately scare off most industry green-lighters.

Many of Quill's good and bad points can be traced to director Yoichi Sai, an unlikely choice for this material. (His latest film, Blood and Bones, stars "Beat" Takeshi Kitano, and is as far removed from Quill as can be imagined.) A Japanese-Korean best known abroad for his semi-autobiographical All Under the Moon (Tsuki wa dotchi ni dete iru, 1993), Sai repeatedly opts for honest staging, though even he can't resist several moments of unapologetic cuteness, some of which incorporates distractingly clumsy CGI effects.

Mostly though, the film is an unpretentious account of one dog's life, with equal parts of earned sentiment, blatant but effective heart-tugging and semi-documentary business about the process of training guide dogs. The fascinating training sequences were especially interesting to Japanese audiences; for some reason, such programs are extremely rare and apparently relatively new in Japan, so the film tangentially succeeds in educating the public about the need for such programs. Soon after the film was released, little donation boxes supporting such blind-dog schools began appearing in restaurants and small shops all over the country.

Parting Thoughts: Quill is rather odd in that it both rejects and embraces the kind of animal movies that were all the rage in Japan throughout the 1980s and '90s, when there were dozens of sickeningly syrupy movies about dogs, cats, elephants, and deer. The result is a picture that will have you reaching for the box of Kleenex, but you may feel guilty for having been duped once it's over.