Studio Ghibli Retrospective 7

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XIX. Ponyo

You’re never gonna find a cuter movie under the Studio Ghibli mantle. Everything from the protagonists being little kids, to the animation looking straight out of a children’s storybook, to even the premise being loosely-based on a Hans Christian Anderson story, Ponyo screams “cute”. It screams it from the top of its lungs, over a gigantic cliff-side, in its high-pitched voice, until it gets blue in the face and falls asleep. Bless it for that!

When I first saw this movie in Blockbuster, I was worried it might be too childish. Plus, I’d recently come off of Howl’s Moving Castle, so I approached it with trepidation. Fortunately, the movie lives up to that Hayao Miyazaki spark. It’s not his best, but I can’t think of a better movie that’s so unapologetically childish. I mean that in a good way.

The most-obvious reason why this movie works is the leads. Sosuke’s your precocious 5 year-old, wanting to live up to his father’s legacy while having the wide-eyed innocence of a pre-schooler. He’s brave, reserved, but caring and emotional when necessary. Even when he thinks of others, which he does a lot, it’s coming from a child’s point of view. He’s the audience point-of-view.

Ponyo, while having that same innocence, is a nice foil to Sosuke. Being a fish transformed into a little girl, she’s yet to experience the tribulations that come with that. So she’s in wonderment of everything, and it’s infectious. Be it jumping for joy over fixing the generator, greedily gulping down her cup of honey-ginger milk, or excitedly exploring the rising ocean in search for Lisa, you can’t help but smile. I’ve heard from some people that she’s annoying, but what were they expecting?

Ponyo’s weirdness is off-putting to some, too. Detractors have called its story shallow, its characters uninteresting and its twists and turns jarring. I’ve even heard complaints that the movie’s boring. Ignoring how much of the complaining could easily apply to Howl’s Moving Castle, Ponyo not caring if people don’t like it probably explains why I like it. It has nothing to prove, and it’s a Hayao Miyazaki movie. Not only is weird the director’s modus operandi, but he’s earned the right to make a divisive movie.

If there’s one area that people are universally in agreement over, it’s the Joe Hisaishi arrangements. Going for a more operatic approach, akin to Wagner, the music feels lifted out of a German epic. There’s even a callback to The Ride of the Valkyries when Ponyo rides the typhoon-sized waves. It’s delightful to listen to.

There’s really not much to say beyond that. Ponyo herself is cute. Her energy is cute. Her relationship with Sosuke is cute. The animation style is cute. And the music, grand as it is, is doubly-cute. It’s simply cute, even if it ends on a bizarre final shot.

XX. The Secret World of Arrietty

The directorial debut of Hiromasa Yonebayashi, The Secret World of Arrietty’s the first Studio Ghibli movie I saw in theatres. My attachment to it, therefore, feels incredibly personal, perhaps to the detriment of being objective. Still, I’ll try. And ignoring any nostalgic biases, the movie’s actually really charming.

I think The Secret World of Arrietty works because of how it plays with scale and size. Arrietty’s no bigger than a male adult’s hand, and the film never lets you forget that: whether it’s climbing a table leg or opening a ventilation shaft, objects that we take for granted can be hazards for her and her family. The movie constantly plays this up for suspense and excitement. Even the “heist” early-on, where Arrietty and her father “borrow” some items from the kitchen, feels straight out of an old-school spy show on TV. It’s great!

That’s not to take away from the human element, which is where Yonebayashi always excels. Sho, the point-of-view human, is a sickly boy with an unnamed heart condition. Every breath is precious, and he knows this. Conversely, due to his condition, he treats all life as equally precious. He’s the kind of kid who wouldn’t hurt a fly if it bit him on the neck. So while his discovery of Arrietty and her family is nerve-wracking, it’s not him they have to watch out for: it’s everyone else.

And the movie follows through on that with Haru. You never once doubt that she’s gonna be trouble, and Sho constantly outwitting her to save Arrietty makes for some tense moments. Even the climactic rescue’s pretty nail-biting. I’m definitely on edge each time I watch it!

I also like how the movie has consequences. Sho and Arrietty might have a mutual respect for one another by the end, but it’s made clear that their friendship is doomed. The two are from different worlds, and they can’t be together. It’s like Arrietty’s father says, “the humans’ curiosity can never be stopped”.

I also really like Cécile Corbel’s score. Initially, it’s a bit jarring to hear her harp over tense moments, or hear her calming voice over serious ones, but it creates an otherworldly feel. Corbel, a big fan of Studio Ghibli, put lots of care into making sure that every track fit, and you can tell. She knows when to draw you in and when to hold back, even if it’s jarring initially, and nothing feels wasted. She even sings the film’s theme song in the credits, which is calming to listen to. Forget tea, I’ll take Corbel’s voice any day of the week!

If Ponyo’s big draw is that it’s unashamedly cute, then The Secret World of Arrietty’s is that it’s relaxing. Even in moments of heightened suspense and tension, you never feel overwhelmed. Which is good, because the movie’s also pretty basic story-wise. That, and it’s cool to see the ordinary be animated as this big adventure. I wish more movies would do that.

XXI. From Up On Poppy Hill

Goro Miyazaki’s sophomore attempt, the difference between this and Tales From Earthsea is striking. How did the guy who directed Studio Ghibli’s biggest mistake manage to make one of their more unusually-charming films? Perhaps part of it falls on experience, and part of it on being comfortable with the subject matter. But a big chunk is most-likely due to everyone having more faith in him. It’s like they always say: if at first you don’t succeed…

There’s a lot going for this movie, and a lot more that could’ve been. In terms of the former, the film feels like straight out of the most-cliché, cookie-cutter handbook: girl meets boy. Girl falls in love with boy. Girl and boy discover The Westermarck Effect. Girl and boy realize they can’t date, but still love each other. And while I won’t ruin the ending, it too feels generic. And yet it works. It works because the characters are likeable and really well-written in spite of that.

Of course, plot B is more compelling than plot A, as it takes more centre-focus. The old clubhouse from the Latin Quartier has so much character and time invested that you actually grow attached to it. You care because the characters care, and you don’t want it to be demolished. Even before it gets renovated, it still has so much life that, like Howl’s Castle, it’s easily the most-interesting part.

Being a movie focusing around nostalgia, the movie pays frequent tribute to Cinemascope musicals. There are several songs throughout, and the soundtrack feels like ripped from a 60’s Broadway show. And they’re all good songs, with most being toe-tappers. I think my favourite is “Sakiyuki”, sung by the late-Kyu Sakamoto. It not only fits its scene, but, to paraphrase Umi, “it’s nice”.

The movie’s also hilarious, arguably the funniest Goro’s worked on. There are several moments where I genuinely burst into laughter, and most were because of the script. I think the best joke is in the politician’s office. Anyone who’s ever had to play the waiting game can relate, and it keeps building on the same joke. Of course, the casual delivery of other lines in the movie helps with the chuckles.

From Up On Poppy Hill’s a nice, quaint movie about a nice, quaint period in history. Like My Neighbor Totoro and Only Yesterday, it has a tendency to “Okay Boomer” a lot, but it doesn’t matter. The film celebrates the power of youth, feeling more like a Millennial power story. And it’s one where everything works for the better. We need more of those.

(To be continued.)