Try Defying Gravity

I remember when I saw Wicked at The Royal Alexandria Theatre. The year was 2005. I was 15 years old, and my mom, aunt and cousins had received tickets. We went to get ice cream afterward, as well as stopped by Carole’s Cheesecake to get soups. I remember seeing a woman feed her dog ice cream she’d purchased, followed by her shoving the rest in her mouth. I almost gagged. But this isn’t about that…

I enjoyed Wicked. The story was great, the songs memorable, and while our substitute for Idina Menzel paled to the genuine article, it was nice seeing the energy she brought. Yet the real testament to its staying power was that, despite not being a theatre nerd, the songs stayed in my consciousness for months, enough that I had a dream where I was in the audience singing the musical off in 2006. It left a big impact, even helping me through a depressive episode following LimeWire deleting my hard drive when I was 16.

Despite eventually moving on to other experiences, Wicked stayed in the back of my mind. When it was announced that it’d be coming to the big screen, I was excited, yet cautious. Modern musicals have been hit-or-miss, often simultaneously, and many haven’t successfully transitioned to film. Nowhere was this more-apparent than Les Misérables, a play I remember watching and enjoying, yet was intensely frustrated by in theatres due to its cinematography and performances. I would’ve left the theatre had my Zaidy not sponsored my ticket. Instead, I sat there and angrily chomped my popcorn, made worse by someone in the audience yelling at me to stop it.

It didn’t help that this movie’s production was trapped in limbo, constantly being rewritten and swapping out directors. It wasn’t until 2023 that we got stills, and the initial trailers didn’t hype anyone up. Complicating matters was behind-the-scenes drama, which practically overshadowed how Jon M. Chu, the director of Crazy Rich Asians and In the Heights, was directing this movie, one given misleading marketing that glossed over it being a two-parter. Even if it was going to be good, I doubted it’d live up to expectations.

I can now safely put my concerns to rest. It’s great! Easily one of the best this year, rivalling Thelma! It’s not perfect-the colour-grading and CGI are a little rough, and it feels padded-but enough dazzles and surprises that it’s a shame I have to wait another year for the darker, more uncomfortably-aged second-half. I especially like how, despite Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo being powerhouse singers, the leads never cancel each other out. Also, as with the theatre version, the reworked songs will probably stick with me for a while.

Was that so hard? I called out the drama and criticized what didn’t work, all while recognizing and praising the movie’s strengths. So why’s it so difficult for some people, mostly online men, to accept that? I know bigotry over anything deemed “woke” can ruin promising storytelling, especially considering The Acolyte debacle, but the notion of something not being geared toward cis, white men being awful by default is exactly why minority representation in entertainment has an upward battle. It doesn’t help that everything’s going to get worse, but I’ll save that frustration…

I don’t understand the drama. Wicked Part 1 ends on a cliffhanger? The play teetered on three hours, but it had an intermission. This movie basically ends at the same point as the first-half of the play: Elphaba’s a fugitive on the run, and Glinda’s decided to work the system from the inside. The two say their goodbyes, and the showstopper “Gravity” has ended with an applause. It might’ve padded itself out to meet the 160-minute runtime, sometimes noticeably, but it added theatrical weight to match its new format. It’s a movie, and it feels like one.

The confusion and anger over this being mis-marketed is understandable, but using that to trash people’s enjoyment isn’t healthy. Was Cynthia Erivo’s reaction to a fan poster harsh? Possibly, though I get why she was upset. Is Ariana Grande a diva? Yes, but she utilizes that former-Nickelodeon child star energy effectively. Even having the flaws of a modern, big-budget production gets cancelled by excellent singing, great dancing and plenty of tangible, practical effects and set-work. It’s a miracle this movie’s so good, since it could’ve fallen flat on its face.

As for how fans “will be annoying”, so? Are you a party pooper too? So much of that’s coming from a beloved musical successfully jumping to the big-screen, respecting its source material along the way. And like The Greatest Showman in 2017, this movie’s coming off the heels of a stressful election cycle, one we’ll probably be feeling for years. Being able to retreat into another musical, one better-received than The Greatest Showman, isn’t a crime. It’s a relief.

I’m unsure what criticizing this movie for existing, even trashing its praise, achieves. Wicked Part 1 might be flawed. It might also only be half of the story. But that doesn’t matter when so much of it works. For the second time within eight years, I get to be inundated by a big-budget musical in theatres. And for the first time within eight years, I get to gush over it too. Because my big-budget musical of 2016, La La Land, didn’t get the long-lasting love I wanted.

While I’m not surprised by the backlash, so many detractors are missing the forest for the trees. We get plenty of “dude-bro” action spectacles each year, some absolute garbage. This is Hollywood throwing a meaty bone to those women who are tired of the excessive testosterone. They deserve some attention too, and shame anyone who dares to chastise that. Basically, touch grass. Or perhaps defy gravity. I’ll see myself out now…

Fox News "Transvestigates"

(Warning: This piece discuss some heavy subject matter. Read at your own risk.)

There are many statements I can make about Fox News: they’re the propaganda wing of The GOP. Their former boss was shady. Their settlement with Dominion Voting Systems being a “business expense” is an indictment of the American tax system. But while all of this is true, it’s their obsession with celebrities that does the most damage. And nowhere is this more apparent than their “jokes” that double as bigotry.

John Krasinski’s an interesting individual. Not only is he married to Emily Blunt, arguably one of the most-attractive actresses currently in the business, he’s also quite handsome. So much so that People Magazine named him “Sexiest Man Alive” for 2024. Yet while most individuals would have no issues, even if the title’s demeaning, Fox News does. Specifically one of their hosts.

Shortly after the announcement, host Greg Gutfeld made a crack at Krasinski:

“I think it’s great that People has dominated — or announced — that a trans male can be the sexiest one alive…Krasinski never talks about it, but he’s trans. You know that?”

Ignoring how bizarre it is to claim that a magazine’s “dominated” someone, calling someone trans when there’s no evidence is cringe-inducing. How does Gutfeld know this? This isn’t public, right? And how has he deduced it? Does he know something we don’t?

I’d rip apart Gutfeld’s claim, but others already have. And it’s not worth the brain cells, especially when Gutfeld was most-likely baiting Krasinski. Yet Gutfeld’s claim is a microcosm of a dangerous trend that adds additional stigma to an already marginalized group. It’s called “transvestigating”. Here’s why it’s bad.

What’s “transvestigating”? It’s when someone, or a group of people, claims someone’s trans based on faulty evidence. It could be physical features, their voice, or something they do. Transvestigators have no clue what they’re talking about, and in the off-chance they end up right, it’s for a different reason than they suggested. Basically, transvestigating’s horseshit.

While most people would never make such assumptions about strangers, transvestigating also has real consequences. For one, people who are trans are at risk of discovery if they haven’t come out. Two, being outed increases the chances of violence. And three, it sets a precedent that shouldn’t exist, reinforcing negative stereotypes about gender. That last point’s especially bad because trans people have a hard enough time being accepted without being exposed as “frauds”.

On the flip side, cis people are at risk too. Not only does transvestigating reconfirm harmful stereotypes, it also leads to discrimination and persecution. If you want proof, an Algerian athlete was accused of being a man recently. Despite there being no credible evidence, especially since being trans in Algeria’s illegal, it persisted, even being supported by JK Rowling. It got to the point where the athlete, Imane Khelif, initiated a defamation lawsuit, sending ripples throughout the social media world. Transvestigating doesn’t exist in a vacuum.

Truthfully, it shouldn’t matter if someone’s trans. There are more trans individuals than we’d like to admit, and many are able to pass as cis. Take Patti Harrison, who showed up in She-Hulk: Attorney at Law as Lulu. Lulu was a highlight of the show, but you wouldn’t know she’s really trans unless you were told. And besides, does it really matter?

That’s another point: who cares if someone’s trans? Humans are a complex species, enough to be multifaceted genetically. Transvestigating isn’t only harmful, it’s dumb. It’s also based on incorrect observations, like whether or not Link from the Zelda franchise is trans because “vagina bones”. (And yes, that’s as ridiculous as you’d think.) Transvestigating’s based on incorrect hunches, nonsense and blatant transphobia.

Transvestigators will counter with “We can always tell”. This isn’t true. But, again, who cares? Trans people aren’t a threat in the numbers cis people claim, and using outdated understandings of masculine and feminine behaviour harms everyone. Besides, the people in power, most of whom are cis, do more damage to society than a minority of people who feel like their software (gender expression) doesn’t match their hardware (physical appearance). It’s time people recognized that.

I know what Gutfeld’s doing. He’s baiting people for engagement, as well as fear-mongering. It’s why I didn’t spend lots of time directly responding to him, instead explaining why his rhetoric’s harmful. However, he’s not an isolated incident. And while you can say “he was joking”, or even that “his words were taken out of context”, for bigots with chips on their shoulders this doesn’t matter. Also, jokes can be harmful. Especially when they punch down.

Macrocosmically, this is but a taste of the harmful rhetoric we’re going to see soon. Remember, Donald Trump won the 2024 election, including the popular vote. His time in the spotlight has led to an increase in hate crimes, trans folk included. And considering what Trump’s planning for his second term, we should be afraid for our trans friends. They need our help.

As for Gutfeld and Fox News? I’d tell them off, but they don’t care. Their base is already bigoted, and they’ll face little-to-no accountability. My only hope is that this alerts people to how the network operates. Though that’s being overly-optimistic, and I’ve been let down before.

The Toxic Jungle

On December 2nd, 1970, President Nixon signed an executive order willing The Environmental Protection Agency into being. Retroactively regarded as one of the few, positive developments of his presidency, The EPA would face a roller coaster of highs and lows with each successive president. This’d all culminate in Donald Trump, soon to be The US’s 47th president, vowing to axe the department during his campaign, something reaffirmed by Project 2025. But can The EPA be abolished? And is that wise?

Enter Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, directed by Hayao Miyazaki. The movie, inspired by the manga of the same name, foresees a futuristic world where Earth has been devastated, humanity has been forced into small, warring kingdoms and a foreboding forest called The Toxic Jungle, ruled by giant insects, encroaches on civilization in an attempt to purify everything. When The Valley of the Wind, led by an ailing King Jihl, is invaded by the Tolmekians and their princess, Kushana, The Valley’s heiress, Princess Nausicaä, must make a difficult choice: help a Giant Warrior’s corpse be revived, thereby aiding the Tolmekians in their defeat of Pejite, or risk her people’s destruction. It’s a tough decision for Nausicaä, who values all life, even The Toxic Jungle.

Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind’s manga started in the early-80’s to help convince Topcraft to gamble on this film. It’s easy to scoff with decades of hindsight, but environmentalism was niche in the 80’s. The world was experiencing neoconservative backlash to the hippie movement, brought on by Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher, and caring about the planet wasn’t a priority. Yet here was a 40-something socialist, someone with the optimism of a teenager, pushing back. He needed an aggressive pitch, and a book adaptation was the most-viable way.

It worked! Despite a limited production schedule, team and budget, Miyazaki triumphed and created a timeless work of art. More than that, he made a nearly 2-hour film that spoke to people the same way Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs did in 1937: by appealing to emotion. Never mind it was loud with its conservationism, lacking any subtlety, its message of hope and optimism remained a dose of adrenaline in dark times. Like the environmentalist movies succeeding it, it wore its sincerity on its sleeve, setting the trend for the Solarpunk sub-genre. And I think that’s exactly what we need nowadays.

Perhaps this movie manifests its message best through Princess Nausicaä. She’s tough, yet kind. She can fight, but routinely chooses pacifism. She cares about everyone, even those who wish her harm, and she isn’t afraid to express that. She’s a Punk Rock princess in a warrior’s clothes, leading with an open hand.

There are many instances where Nausicaä extends grace. When a Tolmekian airship crashes in The Valley, carrying with it the princess of Pejite, she not only buries its dead, she calms and escorts an angry insect back to The Toxic Jungle. When the Tolmekian ship she’s held hostage in is attacked by an enemy pilot, she risks her life convincing him to stop firing, then helps escort Princess Kushana off the aircraft when that fails. Even the Ohmu, considered a threat to humans, she shows dignity toward, apologizing for encroaching their domain and calming them down when one of their own is used as bait by the Pejites. The message is clear: everyone, no matter how awful, has basic dignities that must be acknowledged. Since rage is often a byproduct of fear and uncertainty, making the unknown known is the answer for peace.

Much criticism has been lobbed against this movie over the decades. For Nausicaä, she’s been described as overly-judgmental, unfairly calling the Pejites equals to the Tolmekians in their intentions. While definitely warranted, Nausicaä doesn’t see nuance in destruction. To her, as with the planet, destruction has no distinctions, especially when it ends with our extinction. In that sense, her perspective holds up.

Nausicaä has also been criticized for being too perfect, or a “Mary Sue”. For one, a movie rooted in grand emotions being criticized over its “perfect” protagonist misses the mark, as that’s the whole point. Two, Nausicaä’s prone to anger and internal conflict throughout, making her the opposite of a perfect heroine. And three, the Mary Sue label has sexist implications, as it’s not associated equally with men. You wouldn’t see this critique lobbed at Prince Ashitaka, despite being a more-refined version of Princess Nausicaä.

The bigger critique is its ham-fisted message about the planet. While not the most-refined movie on the subject, that’s not necessarily “bad”. Yes, the Jesus allusions with Nausicaä, especially toward the end, aren’t subtle, I agree. But given this movie’s emotional logic, that’s not a flaw. It appeals to the moment, and it works. Because you can’t win against nature, no matter how strong you feel.

There’s much to be discussed about this movie relation to Miyazaki’s later works. Personally, it lacks the fun of Castle in the Sky and the maturity of Princess Mononoke, both of which I enjoy more. It also feels more childish than some of Miyazaki’s actually-childish movies, like Ponyo. Yet that doesn’t diminish from its “student activism”. It’s loud, brash and in-your-face, and it owns that! I think that’s often more-effective than stepping back and using subtlety. And in a time when many leaders haven’t learned this movie’s lesson, accelerating the planet’s destruction, having that activism mentality’s necessary for change.

Nevertheless, wear your mask anyway.

Striving for Authenticity?

A weird complaint I’ve seen lobbed at entertainment involves accuracy. Whether it’s a drama not being true to life, or a period piece not capturing the essence of that time, “accuracy” as a complaint goes both ways. On one hand, a story should enhance the believability of the worldbuilding. On the other hand, suspension of disbelief is also necessary. It’s a tricky balancing act, but sometimes the former has to go for the latter to truly work.

Medical dramas are a dime a dozen. Be it The Good Doctor or ER, stories about healthcare are more investing and suspenseful than I’ll admit. In some cases, they’re the most-intense forms of genre storytelling. They have clearly-defined stakes, they have tension and suspense, and there are consequences for failure. It’s a perfect recipe for dramatic storytelling.

That said, rules have to be bent. The one that comes to mind is defibrillation, or using AEDs. AED scenes play out the same way: the patient goes into cardiac arrest, and the person using the AED yells at everyone to stand clear while zapping the person back to life. It’s tense and exciting, but it’s not true to life. And this is for a few reasons:

Firstly, AEDs, at least modern ones, are electronic. Having taken First Aid courses before, I can attest that they guide you with voice prompts. Said voice helps the user even if they don’t know how to use the AED. It’ll also tell you which part of the procedure you’re on. You don’t see this in medical dramas, because it’s not exciting. It’s actually monotonous and boring.

Secondly, AEDs, contrary to TV and in film, are a last resort. If you can stimulate a pulse on your own, you should do so. The AED is only for if your hands and breathing don’t bring victims back to life, which happens because it’s exhausting. Again, you wouldn’t see this in medical drama because it’s not exciting. It also wastes time.

And thirdly, AEDs don’t jolt the victim awake. They do it subtly. I can’t explain how, since I’m no expert in human anatomy, but that “jolt” isn’t so dramatic in reality. You need to stand clear, true, but unless you hear the beeping noise, you wouldn’t know the person’s heart was jolted. Once again, entertainment skips this because, you guessed it, it’s not exciting. You see the pattern?

Here's another example of a trope that doesn’t happen in real life: exploding gas tanks. Gas tanks blowing up when shot at are so prevalent in media that 21 Jump Street threw shade at the trope. In reality, a metal tank filled with propane won’t simply blow up from a bullet. It might dent the outer layer, or start leaking, but it won’t explode. That’d require circumstances that not only can’t be met with bullets, but also are also too complicated to explain plainly.

None of that matters in entertainment, though. Not only do exploding tanks look cool, they can lead to great dramatic effect. There’ve been so many great moments stemming from exploding tanks. Even video games, particularly first-person shooters, understand that! Essentially, I don’t think applying realism here is so great. (Unless you’re 21 Jump Street.)

One more example: period pieces. Whether it be past or future, period pieces routinely get crapped on for not being authentic. A recent example is Gladiator II, which was criticized for not portraying ancient Rome properly. Ignoring how the only way to do that would be to time travel, since no one currently alive lived then, so what? Not only do we learn more about the past each day, contradicting what we previously knew, but there’ll always be gaps due to relics not always surviving. Besides, it’s not always interesting to be period-accurate, especially when you want to entertain people!

If your story takes place in a science-fantasy world, like Star Wars, you’re already bending the rules of plausibility. So what if spaceships move too quickly? And so what if the speed of light can’t be surpassed? It’s not real! You’re already breaking reality, so why not break the law of physics?

I find people get way too picky about “realism” in fantasy. Never mind the coded-bigotry that tags along, complete authenticity defeats the point of entertainment. Because, again, it’s not real! If you want “real”, read a history book, or watch a documentary. Don’t go expecting it in entertainment, which gets exaggerated for effect. Be smarter than that.

I’ll end with a personal anecdote. Remember Jurassic Park? Great movie, though a little hokey. It’s also the best dinosaur movie to-date, and the only entry in its franchise that’s actually great. However, it cheats a lot for the sake of emotional investment. Perhaps the best example’s when Lex “hacks” the park’s mainframe computer. As any professional hacker knows, Lex’s hacking isn’t authentic. But it doesn’t matter, because it’s suspenseful.

Besides, it’s Jurassic Park! The entire premise doesn’t make sense, but it doesn’t have to because it’s a cautionary tale about playing God. If your movie already has giant, CGI dinosaurs roaming around with real humans, I think accuracy becomes a moot point. In other words, shut up and enjoy the experience. And stop being overly-critical of fiction, especially when it’s already quality escapism!

Trump's Project 2025

It’s been rather rough this week. On Tuesday night, I spent the evening watching the American election results in real time. Despite not anticipating a knock-out, I was getting increasingly frustrated. By 2:00 in the morning, when I went to bed, I was a mess. Considering I barely slept that night, as well as hearing the results the next morning, I was a zombie Wednesday. Essentially, it sucked.

But I won’t talk about my emotional state. Not only is it unproductive, it’s also not helpful. Instead, I’d like to discuss something mentioned during the 2024 election cycle, as well as how it could impact, in the best-case scenario, the next four years. That’s right, it’s Project 2025. You heard that correctly.

What’s Project 2025? It’s a roughly 900-920 page book detailing an outline for a Trump presidency and beyond. I say “beyond” because Trump won’t be alive indefinitely. His health is deteriorating, and it’s clear he’s not well. Project 2025, therefore, has taken into account not only Trump, for whom most of it was written, but also a successor to his presidency.

Project 2025, written by The Heritage Foundation, discusses its future for The United States of America. Among the exhaustive list are budget cuts for The EPA, The DoE and other institutions it deems “too progressive”. It also aims to restrict abortion rights federally, as well as outlaw gay marriage and deport “undesirables”. More-specifically, it plans to make all government officials, even justices, strictly loyal to the president. In other words, Project 2025’s an outline for a conservative, Christian theocracy in The US, and a permanent one.

Now, I’m not the foremost expert on this. I’ve read bits and pieces, but my patience and tolerance level for the full report is limited. That said, it’s available online, for free, on The Heritage Foundation’s website. Also, there are many, far more learned individuals who’ve discussed it in greater detail. Besides, I don’t want to bore you.

When I first heard about Project 2025, I went to see what the hubbub was about. It made me ill. Even so, what bugged me more was how little it was talked about. Not many people, voters included, knew what it was, despite being bragged about by its supporters. Was it because Trump frequently kept trying to distance himself, even though he was friends with members of The Heritage Foundation? Why the ignorance?

Perhaps Americans were uninterested in discussing it. More-specifically, American media wasn’t discussing it, deconstructing its wording. The only public mentions were at debates, or rallies. Democratic rallies, too. So yeah, not enough enthusiasm.

But that makes it more of an issue, since this’ll be the outline for Trump’s second term. Many people were unimpressed the first time, but he was heavily restricted too. He did plenty of damage, but he couldn’t do more because officials wouldn’t let him. This time, however, he’ll have fewer guardrails. And if Project 2025 passes, the remaining ones will disappear.

I know some of you are skeptical; after all, wouldn’t The Supreme Court block this? To that end, remember that SCOTUS is currently 6-3 in favour of Republicans. Three of the justices-Neil Gorsuch, Brett Kavanaugh and Amy Coney-Barrett-were appointed by Trump himself, while two others-Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito-lean heavily in-favour of Trump. This leaves the remaining, conservative voice, Chief Justice John Roberts, a question mark, made less-so by him siding with conservatives on several key rulings.

Remember that the current bench, made up of lifetime appointments, overturned Roe V Wade in 2022 with a 6-3 ruling. Roe V Wade, as many feminist advocates attest, allowed abortion access federally. When the Dobbs ruling came into effect, despite Trump’s appointees promising prior that abortion access wouldn’t be impacted, that was repealed. Since then, abortion’s become contested, and now that Project 2025’s a foreseeable reality that won’t change.

Outside of that, SCOTUS is the highest court in The US. Their rulings are the law of the land. Also, save impeachment, they currently can’t be forcibly-removed. Even if they accept bribes or break the law, they’re immune from prosecution. So who’s to stop them from letting Project 2025 pass, especially when at least five of the nine justices are partial to Trump?

Basically, I don’t consider that a compelling argument against implementing this doctrine. Even if it gets blocked, Trump’s base is dangerous and influential. Who’s to say they wouldn’t coerce SCOTUS into turning a blind eye? And who’s the say Trump wouldn’t remove dissenters and replace them with loyalists? Nothing’s out of the question.

It’s worth understanding the real stakes at play. I know Trump has fans, otherwise he wouldn’t have been voted in again, but much of this doctrine is widely-unpopular. Stuff like defunding PBS, banning football and restricting access to porn are real platforms, and that’s the tip of the iceberg. Even DEI, which is misunderstood anyway, is on the chopping block, making it harder for minorities in The US to get anywhere! How’s that even remotely worth voting Trump over anxiety and inflation, two issues I doubt he can fix?

I should reference a meme here about “The Leopards Eating Faces Party”. The punchline’s that people only support that party until it eats their faces. That’s what Project 2025 is. It’s going to impact you even if you think otherwise. And that should alarm Americans.

I know I’m Canadian, hence this won’t impact me directly. But that doesn’t mean it won’t have ripple effects. American elections always do. It’s a consequence of living near a major superpower. It’s also important that I be informed should I visit The US again.

It also impacts me as a Jew. Remember Gaza? Remember how people couldn’t “shut up” about it? With Trump in power, it’ll continue, but get more contentious. If you want proof, look up recent developments since the election.

It’s hard to be told that Trump suckered you again. I know inflation’s a big concern, and that many people want to afford to live. But Trump isn’t the answer. He’s definitely not the answer if it means Project 2025 dictating the next few years. Because however bad I’ve made it sound, it’s worse. Besides, I’ve barely scratched the surface!

And to those who stayed out of the election cycle willingly? Shame on you. I know it feels like politicians don’t listen to you, and that’s valid, but it doesn’t excuse inaction. Because while voting might seem tedious and annoying, it’s necessary to fix problems. It’s not all that matters long-term, but it’s a start. It’s time more people remembered that.

This is giving me immense anxiety. But remember, Project 2025’s a threat to everyone, and it’ll be one for the foreseeable future. That really shouldn’t be taken lightly, no matter your political leanings!

A Marvel-ous Mitzvah

There’s plenty I can say about Agatha All Along. Like how it made me care for an antiheroine who murders other witches. Or how, despite being a spin-off of WandaVision, it stands on its own. Or even how its lyrical motif is a banger, which shouldn’t be surprising when the songwriters penned Frozen. All of this is great, but my money’s on a scene I think deserves more praise: the Bar Mitzvah in Episode 6. Because while I may have gripes, which I’ll cover too, it’s the most authentic bit of Jewish representation in The MCU to-date.

It’s no secret that, even with comics being started by them, Jewish representation in The MCU’s sparse. There are many Jewish superheroes in comic books, but you wouldn’t know that with how frequently they’re scrubbed of their roots on film. This is true of Wanda Maximoff, an antiheroine who was made a generic, Eastern European witch in The MCU. Nothing against Elizabeth Olson, she did a fantastic job humanizing her, but that lack of authenticity was always a sore spot. Though I’m getting ahead of myself…

The role of Teen in Agatha All Along was routinely teased. Even his true name was as a mystery, such that it was blocked with a sigil. So when it was revealed halfway through, I thought that’d be the show’s biggest ace in the hole. I was proven wrong with the next episode, which delved into his backstory. And it began with a Bar Mitzvah.

(FYI, from here on in there’ll be spoilers.)

It’s clear the writers did their homework. The Bar Mitzvah wasn’t Orthodox, judging by the female rabbi and mixed seating, but it didn’t matter. Not only was the Torah reading authentic, the recitations of the blessings and the sound of the words were spot-on. It’s not easy mastering the guttural sounds of Hebrew, especially since there aren’t English equivalents, but actor Joe Locke nailed it. He wanted to be as accurate as possible.

Another aspect that was so great was the afterparty. Yes, it was overly-extravagant. And yes, the kid’s family had way too much money. But that’s how Bar Mitzvahs are nowadays. They’ve become a rite of passage, even rivalling weddings. Considering the vibe of the show proper is magic, it also made sense that there’d be a Taro card booth there. Also, it had a “Hava Nagila” chair dance, and a Jewish celebration’s never complete without one!

The last point that really worked is naming the character William Kaplan. The writers could’ve easily been lazy and used a generic last name. Nothing against the Cohens and Steins of the world, but they’re overrepresented as Jewish names. Having a name like Kaplan shows the writers weren’t afraid to think a little. Plus, for whatever reason, Kaplan fits him.

That’s not to say the Bar Mitzvah couldn’t have been improved upon. The most-glaring omission is the lack of a recognizable trop for the Torah reading. I know that’d have required extra time and planning, but a Torah trop is how most Jews read the Torah. There are a variety of melodies to choose from, but the Torah, like a good song, needs one to complete it. Could the show not have relied on the generic Ashkenazi trop? It’s not as melodic as alternatives, but it’s common amongst Ashkenazi Jewry, which William appears to be.

Another issue I have is less the show and more the casting. Joe Locke, perfect as he is, isn’t Jewish. He’s Manx Christian. He’s openly-gay, which fits his character on-screen and in the comics, but a Christian playing a Jewish character instantly loses points for me. Jews are different culturally than Christians, complete with different life experiences, so a Christian playing a Jewish teenager is disappointing. Could The MCU not find a gay, Jewish actor?

This isn’t the first time The MCU has done this. Remember Moon Knight? Remember when Marc Spector had an emotional breakdown at his mother’s Shiva, which caused his alter-ego to take over? It was a great moment, showing Marc’s complicated relationship with his mom, but Oscar Isaac’s not Jewish. I love him as an actor, and he nailed it there, but it highlights how superhero movies consider Judaism an identity you can switch off at will. As any Jew would tell you, even a convert, that’s not true.

But that speaks to a bigger issue. Yes, The MCU has made progress on the representation front recently, and it’s yielded mostly-positive results. But with Jewish representation, it still has a long way to go. As we’ve seen with Sabra, The MCU needs to not be ashamed of its roots. It needs to fully-embrace them.

It sucks that table scraps are what excite me these days. Like with Marc Spector’s Shiva breakdown, William Kaplan having a Bar Mitzvah and reading from the Torah isn’t enough. The franchise needs to take bigger risks. This means more Jewish moments and more Jews playing Jewish characters. It’s no different than with other minorities.

Does that mean I’m unhappy with the Bar Mitzvah? Of course not! Pathetic as it may be, I’ll take whatever I can get! But it’s not enough. And until moments like these are commonplace, it’ll continue to not be enough.

The Jedi Are...?

One of the annoyances about The Acolyte’s cancellation is that the show wasn’t afraid to venture into new territory. For one, it came before the prequels chronologically, something previously discussed in books. And two, it built on something from Star Wars: The Last Jedi, that being the fallibility and arrogance of The Jedi Order. We’d seen some of this with Star Wars: The Clone Wars, but that was wartime. War makes people irrational, so I’m glad relative stability also spotlighted this. I only wish fans were as enthusiastic...

But that’s the problem with Star Wars. Aside from a fear of risk-taking, the franchise routinely treads on milquetoast ideas that rarely challenge people. I liked Obi-Wan Kenobi more than The Acolyte, but it didn’t really discuss how The Jedi were a corrupt entity like the aforementioned did. It also centred around a previously-established character. It was nice seeing Ewan MacGregor return to the role, but we didn’t learn anything new other than how he was disenfranchised. Also, that he had familiarity with Princess Leia.

The same could also be said of Ahsoka. I think it stands on its own, and I enjoyed it a lot. But that has the caveat of featuring characters that’d appeared in other shows. It was great seeing Morgan Elsbeth, Hera Syndula, Sabine Wren and the likes, but I was familiar with them. Nothing moved the franchise in a new direction, not even Admiral Thrawn’s return. I’m definitely excited for a Season 2, but still.

The same can’t be said for The Acolyte. Was it messy? Yes. Yet outside of that, it openly steered Star Wars in a new direction. It wasn’t afraid to interrogate The Jedi, their failings and if they really were a net good. This was emphasized constantly, such that one scene actually summed it up best:

“I think the Jedi are a massive system of unchecked power, posing as a religion, a delusional cult that claims to control the uncontrollable…[y]ou project an image of goodness and restraint, but it’s only a matter of time before one of you snaps. And when, not ‘if,’ that happens, who will be strong enough to stop him?”

That’s interesting! Sure, it’s coming from an anti-Jedi senator, but where’s the lie? Ignoring Anakin’s downfall, The Acolyte foreshadows this within its own narrative. Have we forgotten Mae and Osha’s backstory, the one where four Jedi kill their coven under the guise of protection? Or how The Jedi imprisoned Osha for crimes Mae committed, all without giving her a fair trial? Or how, when confronted with the truth, Osha Force choked her former master to death? Is this being ignored because Osha and Mae argued about The Jedi’s intentions as children?

This highlights the longstanding issue many fans have with Star Wars: they won’t let The Jedi be flawed. We saw this too with Luke Skywalker in Star Wars: The Last Jedi. That movie also had flaws, particularly regarding Snoke, but Luke being guilt-ridden over failing his nephew wasn’t one of them. People hated that he’d given up on being a Jedi, only to later cast a projection and fool Kylo Ren, but that was more organic narratively than Luke taking out Darktroopers in Season 2 of The Mandalorian. Buy hey! Anything to give us an awkwardly motion-captured Mark Hamill!

It's bad when fans complain about Star Wars lacking new ideas, only to turn around and complain when it gives us them. I liked Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker more than most, but it was safer and less-interesting than its predecessor. And I really only gravitated to its introspective look at legacies and lineage, something that, again, was new for the franchise. I guess Star Wars can’t win, right? I think that’s the case.

But that’s the problem: whenever the franchise treads new ground, there’s pushback. And this is especially true when introspecting The Jedi. They’re not allowed to be flawed. They can’t be grumpy, resentful, or suffer from PTSD. Because then they’re relatable, and Heaven forbid!

Here’s a little secret: that relatability? That desire for risk? That’s what ages better in Star Wars. There’s a reason why Star Wars Ep. V: The Empire Strikes Back is remembered fondly, and why it’s used as a yardstick for future entries. Sure, it was met with mixed-reception upon initial release, but it took risks. Big risks! It was unafraid to challenge Luke’s understanding of good and evil, something its sequel continued into the battle with Vader and Palpatine.

That was nearly 45 years ago! We’re still experiencing the fallout of “No, I am your father!” with newer entries. It’s so heavily-ingrained in pop culture now that not only has it been a victim of The Mandela Effect, it’s also been spoofed and memorized by the public. It’s a goofy twist, but it’s a good twist. I’d argue it’s one of the best in film history!

You want to know something else? The Jedi being fallible was also somewhat built into The Prequels. We remember those movies for their memes, bad acting and laughable dialogue, but George Lucas knew The Jedi weren’t saints. How could an entire order not only not guess that the real villain was in plain sight, but was manipulating one of their own and grooming him as his successor? And how could The Jedi go along with paying for an army from a mysterious source and not foresee its soldiers turning on them? Aren’t The Jedi supposed to be “good at what they do”? This all contradicts that.

I think fans should decide what they want from Star Wars. More-specifically, they should decide what they want The Jedi to be, and then stick with it. The franchise can’t be interesting if it’s not innovative. And it can’t be long-lasting if it can’t interrogate itself, The Jedi included. Because that’s good writing! Don’t we want good writing?

Spiders and Herons

So I rewatched Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse. Despite the behind-the-scenes involving the animators slightly diminishing my enjoyment, it holds up exceptionally. It’s not as emotional as its predecessor, and its ending leaves me wanting, but that’s not a slight against it. And yes, it’s my favourite movie of last year, and I’m disappointed it didn’t win the Oscar for Best Animated Feature. (Only a little bit.)

I mention this to tie-in to my entry on The Boy and the Heron, which I also enjoyed. It’s not flawless, and it falls short of Hayao Miyazaki’s best, but it’s easily the best he’s directed since Spirited Away. But is it the best animated feature of last year? And did it deserve the Oscar for Best Animated Feature? Maybe.

The Academy Awards discourse strikes a nerve personally. For one, it’s 2+ hours of Hollywood making political statements on a soapbox, which is annoying when those receiving the awards don’t know what they’re talking about. Two, who cares? Not only is it the film-equivalent of racetrack betting, it’s also subjective. True, Oscar prestige is real, but do you need a gold statue to tell you something’s good? And are the judges not allowed opinions?

I think last year’s Best Animated Feature win has poisoned how the aforementioned movies are being discussed online. Ideally there wouldn’t even be a separate award, as it’s demeaning to the nominees. But while The Oscars are definitely the internet’s favourite punching bag, I think people care way too much despite claiming otherwise. Nowhere is this more-apparent than with Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse and The Boy and the Heron. I say that having enjoyed both.

Perhaps the best example can be seen in how The Boy and the Heron ranks on IMDB. It’s currently at a 7.4/10 with over 75k reviews. That puts it lower than every other Hayao Miyazaki-directed movie, even more than his previously “worst-received” movie, Ponyo. Far be it for me to bash tastes, it’d be hypocritical given I love the Avatar franchise, but many of the reviews (I find) read as bitter. Especially juxtaposed to the rating and reviews for Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, which are far more glowing and have the movie at #37 in IMDB’s Top 250 List. That’s understandable, it’s more mainstream, but considering that Spirited Away, the only other anime film to win Best Animated Feature, is also on that list, I wonder if there’s resentment.

It sounds like I’m paranoid, but consider the conversation when The Boy and the Heron won the Oscar. On one hand, Phil Lord and Chris Miller, the project heads for Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, had no qualms. On the other hand, despite later clarifying, Miles Morales’s VA, Shameik Moore, was unimpressed. He wrote “Robed” on Twitter, which I assume was a typo for “Robbed”. Not the most flattering response.

I get it: Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse was fantastic. I can’t begin to talk about how its various art-styles and musical choices served the story’s commentary on how diverse Spider-Man is. Or how well it juggles several, long-running plot-lines. Or how, despite being the longest animated movie I’ve seen, it doesn’t waste a single minute. Or how it not only builds on its predecessor, but is a complete story while leaving room for another entry. This movie’s a miracle beyond miracles, which says plenty given its predecessor!

While I understand the argument for it deserving the Oscar, I also don’t think that’s an argument against The Boy and the Heron. It too juggles several plot-lines efficiently. And it too doesn’t waste time. It might take longer to get going, but that’s not new for Miyazaki. He likes taking his time fleshing out his characters and worlds. Why’s that a problem?

Personally, I liked Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse more. No disrespect to the master of animation, but it clicked more than The Boy and the Heron, which is held back by the director’s past oeuvre. I also think, with the exception of The Tale of the Princess Kaguya, no Studio Ghibli movie since Spirited Away that was nominated for Best Animated Feature was the best animated movie in that year’s awards. Even then, I include that exception because The LEGO Movie didn’t make the cut.

Nevertheless, I’m happy The Boy and the Heron won the trophy. Not only had it been 21 years and several movies since a Hayao Miyazaki feature had won, but it was the first adult-skewed movie to win. (Let’s not kid ourselves, the movie wasn’t meant for children.) Additionally, the barrier for anime films has gotten stricter since Spirited Away’s win. If you look at how the members of The Academy think, you find many of them are resentful of anime films, especially when one had previously won an Oscar. Like Beauty and the Beast and Best Picture, anime films have much bigger hills to climb.

Truthfully, I think this detracts from a bigger problem, that being how The Academy views animation. Best Animated Feature is a 23 year-old category, created largely because of Chicken Run. It’s also one of the earliest trophies of the night, making way for “more prestigious awards”. Even how the category’s presented feels patronizing, taking a diverse format and handwaving it as a “kid’s art-form”. Putting aside that adult animation exists, why’s that bad? What do people have against kid’s movies?

If the debate between Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse and The Boy and the Heron’s indicative of anything, it’s that The Academy doesn’t fully respect animation. That’s more harmful than discussing which animated movie deserves an Oscar. Doubly-so because animated movies are often worthy of being ranked up with the film greats. The difference between them and live-action is the lack of restraints, and that line blurs as CGI is implemented more frequently. But that’s a conversation people aren’t ready to have…

The Academy should be more open to animation. They can retain Best Animated Feature, but they should also have Best Voice Acting. They also shouldn’t be afraid to nominate animated films for Best Feature. They’ve done it before, after all! By using Best Animated Feature, it not only diminishes animation’s potential, it makes debates about which movie deserved the win more pervasive. And it’s tiresome.

So yes, please stop comparing Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse to The Boy and the Heron. It’s petty and misses the forest for the trees. And if anyone in The Academy’s reading this, I implore you to redefine how you perceive animation. I’m sure you’re sick of the backlash, but it’s prevalent for a good reason. Animation deserves respect, and you’re not giving it that.

Hayao Miyazaki Pontificates

Last time, I ended with the following sentence:

“If you’ll excuse me, The Boy and the Heron recently got added to Netflix...”

Having now rewatched the movie, I can share my thoughts. The Boy and the Heron had a lengthy production history, thanks to Hayao Miyazaki coming out of retirement despite his age. He’s also recently confirmed he’s not done directing, as he plans to keep going as long as he’s able. I’m not sure if that’s gutsy, or foolish. But I digress...

This movie was well-received anyway. It’s Miyazaki’s best-reviewed since Spirited Away, and it won him another Oscar at The Academy Awards. While his worst-received film on IMDB (more on that later), it was also loved by many. However, that’s not my focus. Instead, I’d like to discuss the movie itself. Particularly, what I think it means.

The premise is simple: during WWII, Mahito wakes up to an air raid siren. His mother’s hospital was bombed, and the authorities are unable to save her. Desperate to escape war, Mahito and his father move to the countryside to live with his aunt, whom his father’s expecting a baby with. Mahito’s initially resentful of this, but his life’s upended when a grey heron informs him his mother’s still alive. Curious, Mahito takes the bait to find his aunt, who’s gone missing.

This is a “world within our own” story, like Spirited Away. And like that movie, The Boy and the Heron’s an initial slow burn. It doesn’t expose the main conflict until roughly 45 minutes into its runtime, instead devoting itself to world-building. Little details like Mahito reading a book, or Mahito falling asleep waiting for his dad, feel like padding on initial viewing, but they’re actually crucial character moments. After all, Mahito’s still a kid!

Fortunately, the movie picks up once Mahito enters the world of the dead. From here, we see Miyazaki’s usual, surreal imagery, all in service of the story he’s telling. But what’s that story supposed to be, and how does it enhance the experience? I think this is Miyazaki pontificating on his career and life. He’s looking back on his career and how his youth shaped his adulthood. Essentially, this is the most introspective the director’s ever been.

Perhaps the most obvious aspect’s the visuals. It’s subtle, but many scenes evoke previous works, sometimes multiple. The tower’s a reference to Spirited Away, while Mahito’s interactions with Grand-Uncle in the secret world, as well as its destruction, are a mix of Howl’s Moving Castle and Castle in the Sky. Even the blocks Grand-Uncle gives to Mahito to continue his legacy, the ones uncorrupted by malice, are a reference to Miyazaki’s directorial work. Every moment’s chock-full of references, allowing multiple rewatches to catch them all.

The characters are the same. Mahito’s a stand-in for Miyazaki’s son, whom he had a strained relationship with for decades. Mahito’s mother’s a callback to Miyazaki’s mother, who died in her 70’s after a battle with Tuberculosis, while his father’s a reference to Miyazaki’s often-absent one who manufactured planes. And then there’s the heron. Self-absorbed and often antagonistic, he could be seen as a commentary on the late-Isao Takahata. There are so many interesting characters and side-characters, women included, which makes this a step up in quality from Miyazaki’s previous movie.

The climactic conversation with Mahito’s Grand-Uncle has the most depth thematically. Grand-Uncle, a not-so-subtle insert for Hayao Miyazaki, offers to make Mahito his successor. This parallels the long struggle Studio Ghibli’s had finding an heir, often with no success. That Mahito rejects said offer, only for the world to be destroyed when The Canary King messes with the blocks, highlights that Studio Ghibli, contrary to outsiders, will live and die by Miyazaki’s hands. Considering no one, not even his son, has been able to fill Miyazaki’s shoes, perhaps that’s for the best.

Another detail that drives this pontification home is the music. Joe Hisaishi, longtime collaborator of Hayao Miyazaki, returns, but he doesn’t use his usual restraint. He goes hard on piano motifs, hitting harsh keys, and his background tracks feature plenty of harrowing chorus notes. This is Hisaishi’s darkest and most-somber offering for Studio Ghibli, suggesting that even he knows the studio’s in its twilight years. But it’s effective, and it makes the experience more personal.

Of course, words must be said about the English dub. Anime nerds love trashing dubs for being “inferior”, but, ignoring how this isn’t the 1980’s, that ignores the work that went into the casting. Studio Ghibli regulars like Christian Bale, Willem Dafoe and Mark Hamill get another chance to shine, while newcomers, like Karen Fukuhara and Robert Pattinson, give some of their best work. But Luca Padovan’s Mahito deserves a special mention. Mahito’s not an easy character to voice, but Padovan steps in with ease. Then again, considering this is a NYAV dub, helmed by veterans, none of this is surprising.

There’s plenty to be said about why this movie earned Hayao Miyazaki his second Oscar. As much as I loved Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse more, The Boy and the Heron was a satisfactory win. It’s not only exceptionally well-made, easily Miyazaki’s best since Spirited Away, it’s the most-introspective and weighty of those nominated for Best Animated Feature that year. That’s not to detract from its competition, but the victory was well-deserved. I wish more people on IMDB understood this...

Ultimately, this is another winner from the master of Japanese animation. Is it flawless? No, it can be emotionally-reserved at times. Is it Miyazaki’s best? Again, no. But it’s worth your time, even if you don’t get the references. It’s a beautifully-animated and written movie that ponders real questions about life, including if your life experiences, even the negative ones, are crucial to who you are. That’s something I expected Hayao Miyazaki to pull off, and I applaud him for it!

Ranking Studio Ghibli

I know what you’re thinking: didn’t I do this before? Firstly, good memory. Secondly, that was different. And thirdly, this is a redo of an old post from ScrewAttack that can’t be accessed anymore. Don’t expect this regularly, but let’s get started:

(By the way, spoilers.)

Skip It:

Studio Ghibli doesn’t have many truly bad entries. That’s impressive considering they’ll be turning 40 years old next June. Not even Pixar can boast their track-record of quality, and they’ve been making movies since 1995. That said, the studio does have two stinkers from the same director, who, unfortunately, is also Hayao Miyazaki’s son. It’d be easy to assume that Earwig and the Witch would be “worst Studio Ghibli movie ever”, and there’s good reason for that, but I think Tales From Earthsea’s more frustratingly awful.

A good chunk of why is the lead, Arren. While Earwig can be grating, she doesn’t spend most of her movie being a moody and whiney teenager who can’t crack a smile. That’s not an exaggeration: for nearly 2-hours, Arren’s resting face is a frown. And an insecure one to-boot. This makes it impossible to mine depth from him, as he has no room to emote. The one exception is when he saves Therru from slavers, and even there he’s more unsettling than fun.

Speaking of Therru, she’s no more interesting than Arren. Her English VA can be criticized heavily for being a bad actress, but Therru has nothing to show for it anyway. She tries acting tough around Arren, but she’s one-note emotionally. She’s actually worse considering she spends most of the movie as a damsel in distress, which feels really out of place for Studio Ghibli. Also, her facial “burn” comes across more as a birthmark than parental abuse.

The rest of the cast…is equally bland. Tenar and Sparrowhawk are implied to have a history, but it’s not shown. Sparrowhawk’s touted to be a great wizard, but, again, it’s not shown. Even Sparrowhawk’s history with Cob’s not shown. All of these don’t take advantage of film as a medium, making for a boring experience. It’s a shame because once the opening title appears, everything that could’ve been interesting, including Arren murdering his father and stealing his sword, goes by the wayside.

The movie also doesn’t look interesting visually. Earwig and the Witch is uglier than Toy Story, but I can forgive it because it’s Studio Ghibli’s first fully-CGI feature. Tales From Earthsea, however, is traditionally-animated. Also, Earwig and the Witch has fluid animation, while this movie looks stiff even when it isn’t. For something with a budget of roughly $22 million US, which is plenty for an anime film, that Tales From Earthsea looks like a student film is kind of embarrassing. Doubly-so since Gorô Miyazaki’s an architect, and he knows how to make something aesthetically-pleasing.

The movie itself is a series of missed opportunities and wasted ideas. The concept of dragons barely plays into the experience despite being hyped as important, and you only see them in three short scenes. Cob’s vocal affectations, aside from giving Willem Dafoe a chance to whisper his lines, don’t add to his menace, and he abandons them in the finale anyway. Even using “real names” doesn’t get explored fully. Oh, and the action scenes, however few there are, are bad and short.

I feel awful trashing this movie. After all, Gorô’s next feature was a drastic improvement, and this one has excellent music and spatial geography. It also touches on themes of addiction and corruption, even if neither are really explored. But that’s the problem: it’s wasted potential. It’s like a 2-hour finale of a TV show we haven’t had, leaving a lot implied, but little shown. Sure, the song Therru sings is neat, even if it drags on, but you could save yourself the trouble and listen to it on YouTube. If you’re not a film collector, or a diehard Studio Ghibli fan, then this one’s worth a pass.

Meh:

I’ve shared my thoughts on Isao Takahata’s work before. He was incredibly talented, and his five contributions to Studio Ghibli were all uniquely his. But even a great director has their weakest movie, the one where the pieces don’t quite mesh together. For many, that honour belongs to Pom Poko, a period drama that doubles as a mouthpiece for environmentalism. It’s not my favourite, but for my money his worst debuted five years later. That’s right, I’m talking about My Neighbors the Yamadas.

On the surface, there isn’t much to be lukewarm on. This is a series of vignettes based on a popular comic strip in Japan, all punctuated by haikus. But while funny, and the most experimental Takahata ever was, these skits drag. The movie isn’t so much a movie as a “Best of” collection that SNL used to put out in their heyday, except animated. But while those were roughly an hour, this borders on two.

Again, I feel bad for being harsh. It looks nice visually, evoking the watercolour vibe Takahata would perfect 14 years later. And its skits are funny. The segments tackle topics like cooking dinner, folding laundry and studying a test in ways that feel real, but aren’t real. Enough belly laughs exist for it to have fans, as it’s so different. I’ll admit that I even laugh occasionally.

Nevertheless, its length hurts it. It’s one issue when a movie’s only vignettes. I’ve seen films that excel at this, some animated. But it’s another issue when this format’s way too long. You can’t go any longer than 70-minutes max, unless you know what you’re doing, and My Neighbors the Yamadas is much longer. So while not terrible, it’s not good either.

I also think its setting dates it. It’s true that most Studio Ghibli movies are period pieces, but they still feel universal. This one screams late-90’s in a bad way, right down to Nonoko having a Game Boy. Nothing against Game Boys, but little details like that freeze this in a specific time period. But hey! At least the characters sing “Que Sera, Sera” near the end of its runtime, if only to highlight how mundane the experience is.

Hit-or-Miss:

When it comes to Studio Ghibli movies I’m mixed on, several entries qualify: do I pick Howl’s Moving Castle, which I still find frustrating despite growing on me over time? Maybe Porco Rosso, which I respect more than I love? How about Ocean Waves, a made-for-TV movie that suffers from its condensed length? These are good candidates, but if you want the perfect example, then The Wind Rises is it. Because it truly is hit-or-miss.

On paper, it has several aspects in my favour. For one, it’s a biopic, which I love. Two, it’s a period piece, and I find those fascinating. Three, it’s a WWII movie set in Japan, making it instantly unique. And four, it’s from Hayao Miyazaki, a man who makes good movies. With all that in mind, what could make it hit-or-miss?

The simple answer? Its storytelling. Ignoring how its core message gets diluted as it goes on, Miyazaki isn’t the director for biopics. He bases his movies on storyboards, and I respect that, but a biopic needs a good screenplay too. Miyazaki has plenty of admiration for the late-Jirô Horikoshi, especially given that he’s fond of aviation, but he treats him like a mythical hero. Since Jirô created the planes that bombed Pearl Harbor, that lack of grounding in reality avoids accountability.

Another problem is the pacing. Anime’s notorious for being slow-paced, but this movie’s first hour drags. It only picks up once adult Nahoko appears, as their romance is this movie’s emotional anchor. It’s also its saving grace, giving real stakes to Jirô. Unfortunately, Nahoko’s not in the movie as much as I’d like, being a plot device for a director who, honestly, has done better with writing women.

This movie does a disservice to women in general. Kayo, for instance, is underwritten. She only appears a handful of times, and much of her dialogue involves her berating Jirô. Nahoko’s servant, Kinu, and Jirô’s mother become afterthoughts, while Jirô’s boss’s wife, who officiates Jirô and Nahoko’s wedding, barely has any lines. It feels like this is a male-centric movie, which’d be fine if Miyazaki didn’t have an excellent rapport of female characters.

There are other issues that make this hit-or-miss, including Nahoko’s death being an afterthought and the animation rarely feeling whimsy. But that doesn’t mean The Wind Rises lacks any strengths. It simply means that the movie doesn’t rise to the usual heights Miyazaki’s known for. Still, it earned itself an Oscar nomination, so who knows? Maybe you’ll disagree with me!

Diamond in the Rough:

There aren’t any Studio Ghibli movies I’d consider “underrated”. There are, however, several that are “under-appreciated” or “overlooked”. Hiromasa Yonebayashi’s films for example, deserve more credit, while Ponyo receives undeserved hate. But if we’re talking “cream of the crop” of lesser-known entries, Whisper of the Heart takes the cake. It’s not under-appreciated, but it taps into something only Hayao Miyazaki’s Kiki’s Delivery Service gets at: the creative spirit of youth. And since it’s director Yoshifumi Kondō’s only directorial work, it deserves a closer look.

Whisper of the Heart’s biggest strength is that it’s the studio’s attempt at magical realism and the studio’s attempt at a grounded drama. If Studio Ghibli’s the Japanese-equivalent of Disney, this movie’s the anime film version of a Walden Media/Disney production. It’s really a teenage love story focused on writing and music, albeit with whimsy thrown in for good measure. But it’s that feeling of the otherworldly happening at any minute that sets it apart from even The Cat Returns, its unofficial sequel. That makes it unique.

The real strength here is the relationship Shizuku shares with Seiji. It’s a cliché romance, right down to the two of them initially detesting each other, but it does that in such a way that feels age-appropriate. Shizuku and Seiji are teenagers on the younger end of teenage-hood, so their romance feels less Young Adult and more Romeo and Juliet without the jailbait or tragedy. The two have a real bond that overlaps with their creative passions, and it’s nice to see that play out in an organic manner. Considering how easily this story could’ve felt inauthentic, that alone gives it an edge.

Outside of that, this movie celebrates youthful joy. Particularly, it celebrates optimism through art, whether it be music or writing. Shizuku and Seiji have natural talents they try to nourish, whether it be writing fiction for Shizuku or going to Italy to become a violin maker for Seiji. It’s a nice celebration of the creative spirit that you don’t see often, and I applaud its portrayals of the ups and downs of art. I wish more movies would do that...

The movie’s highlight is the jam session where Mr. Nishi and his friends join in unprompted. Is it silly? Yes. Is it embarrassing? Again, yes. But it’s true to life, as that’s how jamming sessions play out.

Of course, it also doesn’t skimp out on the fantasy aspects of Shizuku’s imagination, which are the highlights of the second-half. Shizuku might be 14 years old, but she has quite the knack for storytelling. This is fully-realized through The Cat Baron segments, where the visuals really flourish. That, when combined with the late-John Denver’s most famous song being the movie’s leitmotif, makes the buildup in the first-half worth it. It’s delightful.

I’ve waffled back-and-forth over whether or not Whisper of the Heart’s a movie for everyone. I don’t think it is, but it speaks to creatives who are young at heart. Because it’s a celebration of youthful naivety pre-adult cynicism, and it’s Kondō’s masterpiece. It’s merely a shame he’d die of a brain aneurysm three years later, as he definitely had one or two more masterpieces left in him had he lived long enough. I also think the movie’s closing line’s too silly even for this, but that’s puppy love!

Bronze:

When it comes to third place, you’d better believe the stakes are high. And there are many titles that could take this spot, including my previous entry. Even with action movies, there are several choices worthy of being #3. Still, I had to come up with something, and this was it. Apologies to fans, but Princess Mononoke is the Bronze entry. (Please don’t hate me.)

It's not like there isn’t an argument to make for this being #1. It’s a fantasy war epic on-par with the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. It tackles environmentalism in a way that doesn’t feel overly-preachy, acknowledging the sensitive balance between nature and humanity. It has excellent music from Joe Hisaishi, arguably his best, and animation techniques that were groundbreaking for 1997. And it’s gory without feeling gratuitous. All of that works in its favour.

My issues aren’t dealbreakers, but they’re enough to hold it back. For one, the movie takes its time, as it has a lot to set up. Two, most of its side-characters blur together. And three, Jigo, the orchestrator of the film’s central conflict, experiences zero consequences. These are glaring enough flaws to slightly diminish my enjoyment.

That’s not to downplay its strengths. I love Ashitaka and San’s relationship, being one of mutual respect and admiration in spite of their quarrels. I love how the animals communicate, something that could’ve easily looked awkward. I also love the action scenes. Hayao Miyazaki might feel more at home with fantastical dramas for family audiences, but he’s a great action director. It shows here.

Lady Eboshi’s also the most-complex antagonist Miyazaki’s ever had. He’s not known for conventionally-threatening baddies, but Eboshi’s exactly that. He prefers layered baddies, and Eboshi’s that too. She’s so multi-faceted and threatening that despite rarely showing her softer side in her face, you see it in how she treats the citizens of Iron Town. It almost makes me wish she hadn’t gotten her arm ripped off by Morro’s decapitated head. Almost.

Princess Mononoke earns its PG-13 rating. It’s violent, but not excessive. It touches on mature themes, but it also treats its audience with respect. It’s unafraid to get heavy, but it’s never too complicated for its target demographic. Even its occasional profanity feels appropriate!

This is a great movie. Is it long? Yes, but it earns that. Is it my favourite action movie? No, but it’s up there. It’s simply fantastic overall, and something I’d recommend to older viewers in a heartbeat.

Silver:

Being the runner-up is no laughing matter here. It not only means you’ve outdone everything below you, but also that you’ve fallen slightly shy of what’s ahead. And this is truly a fantastic movie. So fantastic, in fact, that you should already know it if you’ve read my work. (It’s not like I haven’t already written three pieces on it for The Whitly-Verse!) That’s right, second place goes to Castle in the Sky, the best Star Wars/Indiana Jones knock-off I’ve ever seen.

It's hard to not like this movie, as it has everything you could want: characters who are memorable? Check. Fun, witty dialogue that makes you laugh? Check. Excellent action and music? Check. A deliciously-evil villain named Colonel Muska? Wait, what?!

Yeah, Muska’s the one time a Studio Ghibli antagonist gets to be conventionally evil. He’s not only stylish and cool, but everything he says is memorable. It helps that Mark Hamill hams it up in the Disney dub, using a variant of his trademark Joker laugh in the third-act. Hamill’s notorious for his manic energy, and he lets it loose here. If anything, he’s the reason to watch this dubbed. No joke.

The movie blends goofiness with seriousness expertly. If you should know anything about me, it’s that I’m not a fan of the tonal whiplash found in pulp serials. I find the tones don’t normally mesh well, leaving me confused. But Castle in the Sky sidesteps this by giving you time to absorb the tonal changes. They’re not thrown at you without warning, they’re usually foreshadowed by silence.

Another aspect that I like is the McGuffin chase. Many movies like this have a McGuffin that either feels too grand to pay off, or too small to care about. Laputa has neither of those issues, as we not only spend time exploring it pre-destruction, but we also get personal stakes with Pazu and Sheeta. We care because they care. It makes the inevitable feel much weightier.

Speaking of, this movie knows how to make the familiar fresh and exciting. Castle in the Sky relies on running with clichéd storytelling, including plot-holes that enhance the experience instead of detracting from it. (Why was Pazu’s father called a liar when he had photographic evidence of Laputa?) While these clichés would feel forced with a lesser-storyteller, Miyazaki uses them to his advantage. He does them so well that when Muska’s revealed to be distantly-related to Sheeta, you go along with it instead of rolling your eyes. That’s awesome.

The movie has plenty of really great details too. Like how the 2003 Disney dub brought back Joe Hisaishi to update his synth score, making the new orchestrations the definitive experience. Or how the movie feels like a Saturday morning Disney cartoon, thus making it accessible to Western audiences. Or even how the 2003 Disney dub has added banter that makes the re-release feel barren without it. These are all pluses, and they’re why this movie gets the silver medal.

Gold:

Those who pick this film, the first anime to win an Oscar, start with the same, tired charade: “Call it cliché, call it predictable, but I have no choice! It’s that good!” Truthfully, I’ve been guilty of those words myself before. But it’s true. You knew when I started this that Spirited Away would be the gold entry.

There’s too much to love about this movie, but I’ll share some highlights: Chihiro’s Miyazaki’s most-relatable protagonist. She lacks the magic of Kiki or Sophie, the optimism of Satsuki or Mei and the precociousness of Sōsuke. She’s not a fighter like Nausicaä or Ashitaka, nor can she learn to fight like Mahito. Essentially, she’s a normal, 10 year-old girl. And she’s a whiney brat. But that’s exactly what makes her interesting.

Hayao Miyazaki has never written a protagonist like her before or since. Everything we know about Chihiro comes over time. She doesn’t mature through some grand sense of self-growth, she simply learns to take more responsibility. Yes, she’s doing everything she can, including giving up her name, but it’s in service of helping others. In that sense, she’s the most selfless heroine Miyazaki’s ever put to film.

It helps that every character, even a minor one, is memorable. That’s something Princess Mononoke, bless it, couldn’t quite nail. Even the characters who don’t talk, like the giant heads, are interesting enough to want to know more. That’s the beauty of excellent character writing: even if you’re not important to the story, you’re important to the world around you. And the characters who are important? They’re essential.

This movie’s delightfully bizarre. I’m not a fan of gonzo nonsense for the sake of it, hence I never got into Alice in Wonderland, but Spirited Away makes sure its gonzo nonsense either expands its world-building, or serves the plot. This includes The Stink Spirit, a not-so-subtle commentary on pollution. He’s gross, he creeps people out, and his treatment from Chihiro leads to a medicine ball. This medicine ball’s used to cure both No Face and Haku later on. Everything of note, right down to the little details, has a pay-off moment. Considering that, like I said, Miyazaki works from storyboards, that’s impressive.

I also appreciate the movie’s tender moments. Whether it’s Chihiro crying over her parents while eating rice balls, Chihiro sitting quietly on a train, or Chihiro embracing Haku in the sky once she remembers his name, it’s all as impactful as the loud or frightening moments. This movie’s an emotional roller coaster that hits every beat in the correct order. In fact, Toonami, an action block, even included it in their “A Month of Miyazaki” series. It’s no action movie, but it definitely warranted that honour.

This is what comes to mind when people ask for recommendations. It’s also what pops into my head when I think of accessible anime for a Western audience, as, while seeped in Japanese mythology and iconography, it has something for everyone. It’s got a great story with a powerful message, its characters all endearing, and it isn’t afraid to get trippy. It’s also visually and musically arresting, with plenty of great examples of both. And it’s funny and sad, with moments that’ve made me cry. It’s great all-around, and it’s the best offering that Studio Ghibli has put out.

That about does it for me! If you’ll excuse me, The Boy and the Heron recently got added to Netflix...