"Isle of Dogs"

A 12-year-old boy (voice of Koyu Rankin, center) goes looking for his missing dog and encounters a pack of exiled dogs (from left, Bryan Cranston as Chief, Bob Balaban as King, Bill Murray as Boss, Edward Norton as Rex and Jeff Goldblum as Duke). MUST CREDIT: Fox Searchlight Pictures

Viewers may be forgiven for being confused by Wes Anderson’s movies. Constructed with dollhouse fastidiousness, their hyper-symmetrical, squared-off tableaus dressed with gorgeous textures and color palettes — and their clipped dialogue delivered with deadpan sincerity — they depict a universe with only glancing resemblance to the real world.

A tonal mash-up of ironic distance and emotional manipulation, they invite the audience to laugh knowingly one minute, and to coo with empathy the next. They’re moviedom’s fussiest, most arcane inside joke.

All of these gifts, contradictions and irritations abound in “Isle of Dogs,” Anderson’s ninth movie and his second stop-animation feature. Like his first one, “Fantastic Mr. Fox,” this is both a celebration and sendup of cartoon anthropomorphism.

Taking his cues from Akira Kurosawa, Rankin/Bass holiday specials, “The Little Prince,” “Lady and the Tramp” and Japanese kaiju movies, Anderson has adapted his usual jewel-box aesthetic into bento-box proportions: “Isle of Dogs” bursts with color (including extravagant swaths of crimson) and precious detail, and is shot through with the filmmaker’s reliably understated humor.

The degree to which any of this will appeal to filmgoers beyond Anderson’s core constituency is debatable. True to its title, “Isle of Dogs” is a circuitous collection of false starts, flashbacks and — sorry, there’s no other word for it — doglegs that are far less captivating than the formal beauty on display.

Although it can be fun to try to match the voice with the character — Norton, Murray, Balaban and Jeff Goldblum are particularly amusing as Chief’s ragtag posse — the chief attractions here are the visuals, from the gently blowing alpaca wool of the dogs’ fur and the vagrant beauty of the detritus they live in to the waxy translucence of Atari’s skin and the retro-futuristic look of the fictional metropolis he calls home.

Not everything is too-too adorable in “Isle of Dogs,” which possesses more than its share of grimness, suffering and death. (The film includes a particularly beautiful and brutal sushi-making scene.) Even if it belongs to a puppet, the sight of a dog’s ear that’s been bitten off sends a discomfiting jolt.