Ponyo

Ponyo is a children’s movie, but it is also fit for adults. For while the story itself is fairly simplistic and does not attempt to reach beyond that of a simple love story, the simplicity itself allows us to trust its in innocence and be absorbed in the beautiful artwork. Thus it is also a fairytale, but it is a fairytale that none of us have heard before. If I imagine that I have never watched The Little Mermaid (which Ponyo adapts from) , and did so just now for the first time, then it probably would be the same experience I got when I watched Ponyo- a film that is too young for my age but something that I can still appreciate. Ponyo sheds many themes contained in Miyazaki’s previous works- environment, technology, coming-of-age, culture clash etc.- and focus solely on the magical childhood. This is what makes it a perfect children’s movie; the whole premise is focused on the stretching of the imagination and avoids the need for any heavy interpretation. The use of adorable characters who are untroubled by problems at large also add to the atmosphere of fun and charm. For adults, there is not a lot to draw from in terms of the plot. Especially for anyone who has seen other Miyazaki films, there probably will not be any surprises in terms of the narrative. But again, the visual elements of Ponyo are, for me, simply stunning. The sights of the water raging to swallow the small island where Sosuke lives and the appearance of the golden fishes are exemplary of the kind of eye-opening animation that Miyazaki is known for. And, I think in a slight reference to Totoro, Sosuke resembles Kanta whens he dons the seaman hat.

Howl's Moving Castle

Out of all his films, Miyazaki's Howl's Moving Castle fails to impress me. And it is not because of the themes that he uses have gotten old or boring, or clichéd over the past eight or so films, because I think the lessons of coming-of-age, self-discovery etc. can always be relevant, but rather because the story that he tells in Howl which these lessons are embedded in falls short of the excellence expected of Miyazaki. While roughly the first twenty minutes of the film begins the narrative solidly enough, the rest of the film fails to capture any kind of believable continuity- and moment after moment seems to be yet another dues-ex-machina or another incredulous continuation to the story. For example, when Sophie’s mother recognizes Sophie and welcomes her back, and then turns out to be a spy for Suliman, turns the Howl into somewhat of a political thriller, which is definitely not the direction the film intends. In another case, as when the Turnip-head is turned back into a prince who is missing from the neighboring kingdom, the tale experiences a dramatic change of pace in heavy distinction from the earlier parts of the film, which moves in a snail’s pace. Despite all of its faults, Howl still manages to impress with its outstanding animation art, and memorable characters, especially Howl’s young apprentice. But unfortunately, for me the storytelling in the film is too jumbled and distracting for the wonderful animation to take over and lift the film up by itself.

Spirited Away

It never ceases to amaze me that a sixty-nine year old man has the ability to empathize so much with young children and adults alike. Because in Spirited Away, I think Miyazaki clearly demonstrates that at heart he remains, or at least wants to remain, as innocent and excitable as a ten-year-old girl kid. The fact that all of his films are centered around the teenage generation additionally says something about the importance of our youth. For me, I would like to compare Spirited Away as the Yin to Catcher in the Rye’s Yang. While Holden Caulfield reveals the angst and the confusion surrounding the process of maturing and growing up, Chihiro shows the better side of this transformation with the acceptance of her new surroundings and outgrowing her pouty personality in the beginning. The fact that Miyazaki adheres to the theme of teenage heroes in all of his films speaks to the importance of that phase of our lives, it also speaks to the importance that Miyazaki himself places upon the innocent and honest qualities of a person, best embodied in none other than ordinary children. Chihiro is supposed to be an ideal person, despite her shortcomings, and her experience is an ideal experience. This premise is in great contrast with any shojo anime, and even with Japanese animation in general. Chihiro may be a traditional Japanese girl as the film starts; but as the narrative unfolds, she develops not just into a woman, but into a real heroine. Chihiro’s actions are not only examples of what children should follow (bravery, honesty, humbleness, care for others etc.) but what we all should learn to do. In addition, I think Miyazaki’s disdain for the human ego and the progress of modernity shows clearly throughout the film, as both magic and technology are antagonists in the film, and in the end bettered by Chihiro’s wits. Among others, Miyazaki’s personal and earnest portrayal of a young hero in midst of overwhelming difficulties is one of the reasons why I enjoyed the film so much.

Princess Mononoke

When I first saw it, Princess Mononoke had been the first Miyazaki film I have seen. It was recommended by a friend for whom the movie is one of his favorites. For this friend, who is a forestry/environmental economics major now, Princess Mononoke embodied everything that he personally believed, as the unity between humans and nature and their subsequent destructions are concepts that personally interested him. I am sure that the great animation by Studio Ghibili did much to add to his enjoyment of the film; but still the film mainly appealed to him on a specific ideological basis. For me, who never had any experience with Japanese anime before this point (I admit I looked down upon the genre for much of the same reasons that everyone did), it was a revelation as any that I have had. Essentially, what I had felt was that I had never seen a movie quite like Princess Mononoke. But the feeling did not just echo that of a small discovery, but that of a eureka. It was apparent almost from the beginning that Mononoke did not follow a traditional narrative, something which intrigued me and, given the beauty of animation, kept me in my seat. I think if the same narrative was transposed upon a live-action film or any other film of a lesser workmanship, I would have stopped soon after Ashitaka killed the two men in the fields, but Miyazaki kept me watching. As the film went on, the narrative grew even more incredulous, and the plot grew even more unconventional; and I, unexpectedly, enjoyed even more of the film as the plot widened. There have been many ecological films made, but to find any of them not directly referring to the modern environment is a monumental task. Miyazaki teaches his audience the lesson of environmental disaster using a tale of ancient forest gods and human encroachment- together they create a fresh new perspective on our contemporary problem. I would never have imagined such a storyline would be feasible and successful, but somehow the director managed to connect together the dynamic elements of parable, epic, action film and love story to make such an acclaimed film.

Porco Rosso

Before watching Porco Rosso for the first time, I was apprehensive about the plotline of a fighter -pilot turned pig with romance mixed in up somewhere. But apparently, I made the mistake of forgetting that this is not just a potentially cliched film made by any director- but by the ever-ingenious and ever-innovative Hayao Miyazaki. If I remembered that, I wouldn’t have gone in expecting the traditional and clichéd story of another Casablanca, and I wouldn’t be pleasantly surprised. In yet another demonstration of the power of Anime, Porco Rosso combines the expected progression of a romance story with the completely unpredictable nature (physics) of animation- and in turn creates a cross-genre film that Miyazaki was able to manipulate according to his imagination. Throughout the film, our expectations of a classical love story or a thrilling action movie are erased bit by bit as comedy and outrageous acts juxtapose with the otherwise seriousness and beauty of the plot. In the end, we find ourselves on an exciting rollercoaster ride through historic scenes, yet at the same time brought to a different reality where pigs can fly and pirates are unusually friendly towards children. Not everything is happy-go-lucky though, and the main conflict between Marcus and Curtiss is as well done as those in any other Miyazaki film. At heart, the battle between the two main men is a serious, life-threatening duel over a woman. This easily gives rise to a poignant and solemn atmosphere, as the loser can potentially lose everything. In addition, Miyazaki injects a truly sentimental background story regarding Marcus and Gina such that the audience is genuinely touched. On the other hand, throughout the film, not one moment is the viewer bogged down by the pressure of Marcus’s task at hand. Instead, we are taken through the movie at a pleasurable pace and almost never worried or held in suspense. At the very start, we know that Marco will emerge victorious in the conclusion since this is a Miyazaki film. Nevertheless, we still cheer for him through all the trials and obstacles that beset the poor pilot even if we know the ending. This characteristic, I think, defines the films of Hayao Miyazaki- for as long as a person is true and honest, at the end of the day good things will come.

Kiki's Delivery Service

Out of all Miyazaki's films, I feel that Kiki's Delivery Service is one that resonates with me the least. Despite my efforts to enjoy the movie, it was really difficult for me to be drawn in or empathize in anyway to the experiences of a teenage witch. Unlike his other movies, Kiki possesses neither the exotic allure of a fantastical setting nor a main character figure that I can relate with. On the first point, one may think that the European styled city may be enough of a departure to interest the audience, since such a place is used also with Porco Rosso and Howl’s Moving Castle to great effect. But I believe that the reason that those two films succeed and Kiki does not is with presence of a hero or heroine that draws the audience’s admiration, instead of asking the audience to relate to the mundane experiences of a delivery girl. In addition, the self-discovery that Kiki goes through at the end is not one that leaves the audience rooted into his seat like the action-laden moments Nausicaa or Mononoke, nor is it one that leaves the audience teary-eyed and heavily nostalgic like moments in Spirited Away or Ponyo. Finally, I believe that Miyazaki does not explore enough of the magical in Kiki’s Delivery Service, at least not as much as was promised to us in the beginning of the movie. What I mean is that the audience is instilled with an expectation that the tale is one of magic and fantasy when the story began with a teenage witch leaving home. However, the story, after an uplifting start, settles down to the mundane and ordinary and decides to explore the ubiquitous inner conflict of an adolescent instead of expanding upon the wondrous and surreal world that was presented to us at the start.

My Neighbor Totoro

Adding on to the bloated discussion of the question of Assurance/De-assurance of My Neighbor Totoro, I would like to mention the importance of context regarding the film. We talked about the varying scenes of the fantastic and the realistic in various points of the movie- such as the juxtaposition between the marvelous forest and powers of the Totoros and the realistic countryside of postwar Japan.
This is the first point I would like to discuss- that the fantastic has powers to both assure and de-assure. Not only that, but the realistic also has powers to both assure and de-assure. In My Neighbor Totoro, the usage of magic and fantastic is mostly to offer a respite for the little girls in order to assuage their fears about their sick mother. There are few times when the fantastic actually unsettles. However, one does wonder why the Cat-Bus has so many legs and such yellow and even leering eyes.
In contrast, the reality in the film very much offers, in my opinion, conflicting sensations of comforting and unsettling. When we see the final arrival of the dad in the movie, we share the same sense of relief shared by the girls. This transition from the fantastic to the realistic offers a perfect way to assure the audience- we are so glad that the Dad arrived that we forget about Totoro and the magical. The joy of reality, however, is short-lived as very soon the girls find out that the return of their mother from the hospital is postponed due to some additional unexplained illness. And in a subsequent turn of events, the reality worsens as Satsuke becomes lost in wild.
So far we have only talked about My Neighbor Totoro in relation to its narrative, but if we shift attention to the reality offered by other than the story of the two girls and their parents, we may find that the reality unsettles us even more. In a first example, when the family first moves into their new house, it is rickety and barely seems to be able to hold up itself. This is reminiscent of the state of affairs immediately after the war, and I believe the film is meant to show this- the primitiveness and desolation of post-war Japan. In a second example, in the scenes when the girls travel from their house to the hospital, we see more of the rural and economic destitution of the nation- a long, thin, unpaved road that can barely hold traffic, and the multitude of farmers working in the rice paddies alongside the road.
Finally, in a sort of meta-context, we should remember that My Neighbor Totoro was released along with a companion- the classic anti-war animation Grave of the Fireflies. It was intended at the time for the two films to complement each other; Grave dramatic remembers the hopelessness of post-war Japan and thus suffered in the box office for its overly realistic portrayal, on the other hand Totoro was supposed to mitigate the emotional despair by offering reassurance. At the same time, one could reason that the very fact that both films relate back to the war at all begs the audience to sympathize with, and thus emotionally attach to, the on-screen portrayals of the impoverished citizenry.