Hayao Miyazaki

(Netflix Streaming, July 2020) Only writer-director Hayao Miyazaki could get away with the strange blend of elements to be found in Porco Rosso. After all, you wouldn’t necessarily expect animation to take on mid-1920s Italy as a setting, nor to complicate things even further by featuring seaplanes, air pirates, the lingering weight of war a few years after an armistice, a character aspiring to Hollywood stardom, a rich heiress, and a hero magically transformed from pilot to anthropomorphic pig. It’s a lot to take in, but much of the first half of the film is delightful considering how it just keeps throwing elements of its bizarre imagined universe at the viewer. There’s a lot of romance here for early aviation, an affection for its Italian characters, twisted loyalties (as the protagonist is pursued both by pirates and the US government), a loyal female sidekick and a host of other characters. It’s difficult to describe and it sounds utterly ridiculous on paper, but it works well once the film gets going. It all comes down to an aerial race, and then a bloody fist-fight in thigh-deep water. There is considerable and unlikely charm to Porco Rosso, far more so than the sum of its components. But that’s part of the Miyazaki magic, creating entirely fresh universes at each film in order to tell us a story that escapes neat patterns and genre distinctions. Liking it takes a backseat to being very impressed by it.

(On DVD, September 2019) Oh, what a lovely film. Kiki’s Delivery Service’s comforting, joyful tone starts early on as a thirteen-year-old girl, witch from birth, decides that now is the time to leave for her year away from home in learning how to become an adult. The departure is curiously drama-free (it’s clearly a film made for kids in that the occasion is portrayed as an adventure rather than an anxious white-knuckle event for her parents) and that sets the tone of a film without antagonists other that the protagonist’s own self-doubts. The pleasantness extends to the film’s redefinition of what it is to be a witch, keeping the flying broom and the black cat (hilariously snarky), but completely erasing any of the negative connotations of the term by western standards. Much of Kiki’s Delivery Service is a simple slice-of-life adventure in which nothing terrible happens, our protagonist discovering a few life lessons along the way and events reaching a spectacular conclusion when a gentle disaster threatens her new city. Hayao Miyazaki’s touch has seldom been gentler than here—the character design of companion Jiji is particularly cute, even for an animal as overrepresented in fiction as a black cat. It’s a very different viewing experience, and a truly enjoyable one. Nearly everybody in the film is quite nice and it all feels like one big friendly hug.

(On DVD, October 2018) Criticizing Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind is tantamount to blasphemy in animation circles: the film has become a classic throughout the decades, and its impact in the kind of fantasy imagination as displayed in 1984 is only blunted by it being one of many incredibly imaginative feature films from the mind of Hayao Miyazaki. Taking place in a far future where humanity struggles to survive in a post-apocalyptic environment, it offers still-unique visions of repulsive creatures, intense combat, war between tribes, cognitive breakthrough leading to peacemaking. It’s very much in-line with other Miyazaki films such as Howl’s Moving Castle or Castle in the Sky. While we’ve seen similar offering in the decades since its initial production, Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind remains unique viewing today. This being said, I can’t say that I enjoyed it all that much—I still have trouble processing the lower frame rates of even top-tier 1980s animation, the creatures are designed to be disgusting and there have been far more interesting twists on the post-apocalyptic genre since then. But that may actually be part of Nausicaä’s heritage: I have a feeling that its success allowed the unbridled go-for-broke fantasy world-building of much of modern anime, ironically making it feel a bit staid compared to its progeny. Still, it’s a classic for a reason … although I’d be wary of showing it to the pre-teen set.

(On DVD, September 2018) The reason why Miyazaki movies have endured is that they display, even thirty years later, a vast imagination that has not often been matched. In Castle in the Sky’s case, for instance, we have flying cities, duelling airships, robots and steampunk influence, meaning that it influenced and maybe even defined steampunk. Plot-wise, we have lost princesses, fighting empires, a pirate matriarch that evolves from villain to hero throughout the story … it’s a lot and it’s a lot of fun too. The quality of the animation can be disappointing by today’s standards, but it does have its hand-drawn charms and, after a while, you barely notice the low frame rate. There wasn’t anything quite like it in the American repertoire for a long while—and, in fact, you can argue that there still isn’t despite the recent rise of computer-animated movies. Castle in the Sky doesn’t always work, but it keeps trying until the end.

(On DVD, October 2017) There’s a refreshing refusal to play by conventions that shines at the heart of Tonari no Totoro: The avoidance of conflict, the supernatural seen as wonder, domestic concerns and a constantly inventive imagination at play. There’s quite a bit of darkness in the film as it focuses on two girls waiting until their mother is well enough to be released from the hospital, but much of the movie is about discovering the hidden magic in their bucolic setting, with dream sequences and spirits helping out the two girls. Whatever drama in the film is limited to looking for a lost girl and the tension of knowing if their mother is doing well. I suspect that Totoro works on a level that escapes analysis or narration—it’s just cute, comforting, wondrous and unlike anything else. It plays like a pleasant daydream, non-threatening to a fault. The cute creature design may also help explain its popularity with kids of all ages. While I wasn’t as taken by the movie as I hoped I would, it’s squarely in Hayao Miyazaki’s impressive body of work and does rank highly as a must-see animation film.

(In theatres, August 2009): I may watch fantasy films, but they seldom resonate with me… and neither do kids’ films for that matter.  Both of those character flaws may explain why I’m impressed but not overly fond of Hayao Miyazaki’s Ponyo.  It’s skilful fantasy moviemaking that presents an original vision and yet… I’m less than thrilled about the entire thing.  It advances in fits and starts for those who aren’t completely absorbed in its visual panache, and the story itself is paper-thin with little suspense along the way; at most we get a few mysteries, but no serious drama: the final choice made by the protagonist is never in doubt, lending an air on inconsequentiality to the entire film.  Which may not be an inappropriate choice given the dream-like quality of the fable: Ponyo is definitely a kid’s film, after all, and the way it manages to impress Western audiences despite being firmly set in a Japanese rural area is still impressive.  If it doesn’t come close to Spirited Away or Princess Mononoke… then again what does?

(In theaters, December 1999) All things considered, a pretty good fantasy film marred both marred and bolstered with the typical qualities of anime. On one hand the visual inventiveness marks the film with stronger quirky individual scenes than the usual film. On the other, the often-jerky animation and other anime “tics” make it so that the film flows less smoothly than the standard Disney. The universe of Princess Mononoke is also presented as is, without any attempt at rationalization or structure. Don’t expect any kind of predictable logic; wacky solutions and features still pop up late in the film. Still, it’s an enjoyable fantasy for more mature viewers, and makes one wish for better material of this type.