The first thing I said after watching this movie was a soft, but wondrous whisper to my friend: “What the fuck?”
And then several more times in varying tones from inspiration to confusion to understanding back to a resounding confusion.
This movie is absolutely bonkers but having watched it twice, read up about it and watched a little snippet of an unrelated Miyazaki interview as well as the book it is based on, I am moved to absolute tears.
“The Boy and The Heron” is such a masterpiece, I am absolutely honored to have had the opportunity to watch it in theaters.
History of Miyazaki
What I love about Miyazaki may be the very thing that keeps him from finding an heir apparent and from retiring in peace: his methodical and meticulous drive for perfection in animation.
When you see an animated movie from Studio Ghibli, there is no question about where it came from. The shape of the characters, the way they run, the movement of their hair— all of it is so classically Ghibli that you can see his past works influencing his current ones.
It’s not even him trying to reference what he’s done before. This man is just so prolific and has become such a staple of Japanese feature animation that you can feel how Princess Mononoke ran in the way Mahito (Soma Santoki/Luca Padovan) runs. You can admire Howl’s flickering hair in the way Mahito’s shivers. The Susuwatari and the Kodama in the Warawara. Everything he has done before is showcased in this final film not as an homage but as the result of a lifetime of created and culturally acclaimed works that lends itself to his very own film language.
It’s not that he is trying to suck his own metaphorical dick, but he has created such a visual style for himself that to not acknowledge his previous works is a severe disservice to the enjoyment of this movie.
It felt like there were a lot of Easter eggs in the style of this movie, but in reality that’s…just how Miyazaki animates things. What we see as familiar and stylized is our perceived acceptance and veneration of his craft to be the norm.
Miyazaki is a hard worker. He knows what he wants, and that is vitally important in a director. Perhaps aggressively so, but no one can diminish the quality of his work because from top to bottom, this is astounding. For one still cultivating hand-drawn animation, Miyazaki has earned this right.
To be known and recognized from a few simple strokes. For his style to be such an inspiration to people the world over and to have the same cultural impact as Disney. Miyazaki was and continues to be a force to be reckoned with.
If anything, he has earned the right to have as much creative liberty as he wants.
Because this movie is an acid trip.
A beautiful acid trip of death and birds and angry youth.
But an acid trip that boggles your eyes and your mind in its circuitous story and melting animated transitions. Nothing feels real but everything is and death, the great equalizer, falls to the side in this world beyond worlds.
At its core, this movie is about a young boy who misses his mother and accidentally finds himself in a land of birds and nonlinear time.
It tackles grief and loneliness and the fear of stepping into the unknown.
There are so many emotions it tackles and in the melting pot of feelings, there is confusion. But there is also hope and love and aching and fear and anger. There are so many tumultuous feelings we experience and that is only just the tip of the iceberg.
The End of an Era, The End of a Studio
I saw this interview of Miyazaki in a garden and it breathed new life into “The Boy and The Heron.” And it breathed fear into my chest. Miyazaki is well-aware that once he leaves, that is it. Death or otherwise, Studio Ghibli will cease to exist. Yes the IP may still be passed around, but its core, its heart, the very thing that allows its works to be brilliant and transcendent, will be lost.
He will be gone. But the steadfast perfection and attention to hand-drawn detail will also be gone. Maybe they will move on to 3D animations. Maybe they’ll churn out more movies but of subpar quality to make ends meet. Whatever happens, Miyazaki understands that when he is gone, his era of animation will cease and whatever happens, happens. He has no control over it.
That is devastating.
Taking that knowledge into “The Boy and The Heron” makes this movie feel like his magnum opus, stylistically drawing from everything he has ever done and a hard-fought and long-drawn out acceptance that when it ends, it ends. That’s it.
Mahito is asked by his Great-Uncle (Shohei Hino/Mark Hamill) to take on the mantle and continue the legacy of this world beyond worlds.
And Mahito says no. “I am not pure enough.” I am not good enough, I am not skilled enough, I am not enough. And the world collapses.
Just like Miyazaki foresees the future of Studio Ghibli.
All things must come to an end.
In the narrative we have this grief from Mahito as he attempts to come to terms with his mother’s fiery death (that sequence is devastating but absolutely gorgeous. You can feel the heat. You can see it warping the world around Mahito and it did make me think he was hallucinating for a good chunk of the movie) and we have the metanarrative grief of Miyazaki bidding his goodbye.
It’s his last farewell to a fanbase that has always stood by his side. There is love here, how else would something as phenomenal as Studio Ghibli risen to stardom if not for the dedication of its artists and its spellbound fans?
There is anger here, because of his mother’s untimely death, because of Miyazaki unable to find an heir.
There is a great sadness.
I don’t think that needs an explanation.
The creative artists he came up with are gone. The work he has created will stand the test of time but will his methodologies and perfectionism live beyond him as well?
And also: should it?
And the scariest, saddest question of all: Will we ever have another movie or even a filmmaker like Miyazaki in our lifetime?
How Do You Live?
Miyazaki is old. He just turned 83 and he’s been steeped in the creation of animation for longer than I’ve been alive. He knows the ins and the outs of the medium and he’s honed his craft to the highest level of mastery.
I think what I love about Miyazaki adaptations is how unhinged they are. “Ponyo” is a retelling of “The Little Mermaid” but it’s like he took the essence or even just one discernible feature and built it in a completely new film look.
He does everything with style. His style.
And as old as he is, he is not besotted with trying to please others or to subscribe to a certain Hollywood aesthetic or timeline. He works to the manic beat of his own drum.
Because “The Boy and The Heron” is based on Genzaburo Yoshino’s “How Do You Live?” but that is a completely different story of an uncle trying to relay life lessons to his nephew. Mahito even reads this book and takes some life lessons into his own, especially as it is one of the last things his mother left him, we can liken that book to how this movie is from Miyazaki to us.
Miyazaki’s North Star is so far yet so enchanting that we have not been able to look away. Even now, as this movie plays in theaters and reviewers laud it for his animation excellence and heartfelt exploration of dark emotions, we are gifted the very end of his career. With however many movies he has yet to create or however he chooses to spend his time. This rounds up all the big players in his arena. His stylistic flair coming to vibrant life, the hard-hitting themes, the expectation that his audience will understand and will care for what he is trying to say.
How many fandoms are just pure adoration?
Respectfully, I want more Miyazaki movies. Realistically, I’m ready to accept that a shooting star has gone its path— and we can wonder in its light or perhaps try to recreate its warmth, but the least we can do is remember how it made us feel.
“You absolutely must attend to the things you feel in your own heart, the things that move you deeply. That is what is most important, now and always.”
-Genzaburo Yoshino