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...

10/7 in Reflection

I didn’t want to write this. I shouldn’t have to write this. I’ve been deliberating whether or not sharing my pain is actually helpful, or if it merely makes everything worse. But since this anxiety won’t go away, no matter how much I talk about it with other people, I guess I have no other options. And so, with a deep breath, I’m about to type the hardest and most painful sentence I’ve ever typed for a piece on The Whitly-Verse:

It's been a year since the biggest massacre of Jews in recent memory.

I know that some of you won’t be happy reading that. To that, I simply say, “Too bad!”. You may not like hearing that October 7th, 2023 was a tragedy, but I don’t like remembering it either. That was a Jewish holiday, by the way. It was supposed to be a celebration of the continuity of Torah, and it transformed into a harrowing memory of violence and destruction. People died on October 7th, 2023, often in brutal ways. And yet, despite the initial concern and sympathy globally, the aftermath has seen a resurgent hatred for Jews I never even thought was possible.

Let’s get this cleared up right now: the Palestinian side of this war has already won in the court of public opinion. They won it almost immediately. Right from the get-go, there were already attempts to discredit this massacre online and offline. It only got worse as the days went on, with protests and demonstrations flooding the streets, often in Jewish neighbourhoods. You can argue semantics about whether these were peaceful all day, but the public has already made up its mind.

So I don’t want to hear about how the Palestinian voice “is being silenced”. It’s not. Instead, I’d like for people to actually listen to the Jewish voice. And not the political one that uses Benjamin Netanyahu as its mouthpiece. That’s cowardly to constantly bring up, especially since Netanyahu’s one person. No, I’m talking about listening to the voices of average Jews who’ve been socially ostracized because of a war they didn’t start and never wanted. Listen to them for a change.

I can’t begin to tell you how scared I’ve been since last year. Even ignoring global spikes in Antisemitic incidents, I can’t wear my kippah exposed at work anymore, as it makes me a target for hate. I have to cover it with a baseball cap. I hate wearing baseball caps, as they constrict the blood flow in my head. But you’ve made it dangerous not to.

My social circle has shrunk. I’ve had people I’ve known for years, respected colleagues, stop talking to me because they assume that I want WWIII to happen. I’ve had to sever ties for the sake of my mental health. Even talking about it with people has been hard, as I’ve had to navigate potential landmines. Do you think it’s fun to do that? I don’t!

Even while working, I’ve still felt like I’m always on the defensive. My courier job, which has me interacting with the city, sees me witnessing no-so-subtle messaging attacking me for being Jewish. Kidnapped signs are being ripped down indiscriminately. The war of misinformation is enough to give me a headache, as I see it constantly. It isn’t fun having constant reminders that I’m not valued by much of society.

It also isn’t fun getting into arguments with strangers over this. I don’t want to keep talking “whataboutisms” whenever I bring up October 7th. Yes, I’m not thrilled by the war. No, I don’t think it’s being handled well. Yes, too many of my fellow Jews have become dismissive of civilian casualties, led on by the dissemination of information by news outlets and politicians hungry for attention. But so what? If you can’t acknowledge my pain without distracting from it, then you’re not being helpful in the slightest.

Speaking of which, this idea that October 7th was “justified” is nauseating to listen to. It wasn’t. These might’ve been citizens in a country you despise, but they’re still citizens. One of the hostages was an infant. What did an infant ever do to you? Why are you so scared of him? He can’t even speak yet, let alone fight!

And yet, this is the nonsense I’ve had to endure for a whole year. And the rhetoric itself has been sending me mixed messages. If October 7th was “justified”, then so was Israel’s response. If it wasn’t, then neither was Israel’s response. But you can’t pick and choose which to celebrate and which to condemn. Either be consistent, or stop talking.

There’s so much more I could go on about here. For example, the Antisemitic attacks. The uptick in hate crimes. The fact that university campuses have become the most-dangerous places to be Jewish. That last point especially! I know university kids are still experimenting politically, but if you can drink, drive and vote, then you can be held accountable for your bad behaviour. You’re not a baby. Also, the faculty encouraging you are monsters, plain and simple.

It's been a real eye-opener as to how full of garbage people really are. They claim to be your friends one day, only to turn around and hate you the next. And it’s causing a massive shift of disillusioned Jews toward a politics that, quite frankly, is really dangerous. Because that political structure is at least pretending to care! What excuse do you have to counter this?

I’ll end this here. This is way too painful to keep writing about. But know this: you’re not the friends I thought you were. You don’t care, and you never did. And as the one-year anniversary of a horrible tragedy comes and goes, and the ensuing war continues, I’ll be sure to remember that going forward. You’ve lost my trust, and now you must earn it back. I’m sorry, that’s how this works.

A Grave Situation

In light of recent news and drama, I’d like to discuss something that went under the radar:

Grave of the Fireflies is a movie I have many thoughts on. But since I’ve already shared them before, I’ll avoid retreading. Instead, I’d like to talk about a relatively-recent revelation that deserves more attention. See, for the longest time this movie was on Hulu for streaming. That’s not a problem on its own, but since every other Studio Ghibli entry was on Max or Netflix, it felt like an inconsistency. And considering most of us couldn’t access Hulu, it’s an American service, it was quite glaring. It was as if the catalogue was missing something...

This has now been remedied. As of recently, Grave of the Fireflies is available on Netflix! True, there’s no dub in English there, but at least now people can experience crying a fountain of tears for 80+ minutes. I don’t say that lightly, either: the movie has be called “one of the saddest ever made”. Even the late-Roger Ebert mentioned that it made him cry. It’s a really sad and depressing movie.

Despite this, I think it’s worth watching. The movie might be a harrowing look at war’s impact on civilian populations, but it’s an honest one. And yes, I find it a tad manipulative, especially given its opening, but that doesn’t make it bad. I’ve enjoyed manipulative movies before. (I’m an Avatar fan.)

Many people agree that it’s essential viewing. No sooner did it appear on Netflix, when it became the 7th most-watched entry. It seems the movie resonated deeply with many, which makes sense given how much of the world’s at war. People are in the mood for honest depictions of wartime casualties, civilians included. I don’t blame them.

That said, I wonder how this movie made it to Netflix. This is the only entry in Studio Ghibli’s library to not be distributed under Tokuma Shoten. Because it was a “prestige feature” back in 1988, the movie had a prestige backer with Shinchosha. As a result, it couldn’t be licensed under the Studio Ghibli/Disney deal, making it an elusive title. Not unlike Marvel’s licensing agreement prior to founding their own studio, Grave of the Fireflies was at the mercy of whoever distributed it in The West at any given time.

To be fair, the movie did receive two dubs. The first, by now-defunct Central Park Media, was crusty, even if it had some high-profile voice actors. This movie isn’t easy to localize, given its subject matter, but Central Park Media did their best. Unfortunately, some of the line reads come off as hammy or unenthusiastic by current standards, with Setsuko, who’s canonically 4 years old, sounding too old. I know because that’s the version I own.

I don’t know much about the Sentai Filmworks dub, outside of its ADR director. Steven Foster, known in the dubbing community for his insincerity, helmed this movie’s second dub, and his work was met with…mixed results. It’s hard to find this version now, thanks to the movie switching distributors again, but it might be for the best considering Foster never seemed enthusiastic about anime in hindsight. I would’ve liked to compare notes, but oh well! Something to keep in mind for the future...

That leads to the current situation regarding Grave of the Fireflies. According to Wikipedia, the movie was recently acquired by GKIDS. This is good news, as that same distributor has all of Studio Ghibli’s lineup right now. They also have a proven track-record of quality with dubbing, having worked on Oscar-nominated and Oscar-winning films. It should come as no surprise, therefore, that they have the dub from Sentai Filmworks. Which makes it bizarre that Netflix doesn’t have it.

Perhaps the acquisition by GKIDS is why it’s on Netflix? Did the prestige license expire? Did GKIDS see an opportunity here? Perhaps they shelled out a lot of money for distribution rights? Anything’s possible, though I wonder why now. Maybe it was to capitalize on the streaming premiere of The Boy and the Heron, Hayao Miyazaki’s latest movie?

Nevertheless, I’m glad this movie made its way to Netflix. Despite all the streaming services that’ve popped up recently, Netflix is the most-accessible and well-known. Having a relatively-obscure entry in a big-name studio’s library make its way there, even after all the trials and tribulations, is great news for anime and film fans. Doubly-so that it’s being watched by large swaths people. It deserves the attention, even if I consider The Tale of the Princess Kaguya the better entry from the late-Isao Takahata.

So please, give this one a watch if you haven’t. I know I’ve been critical of Takahata’s directing style before, calling out his work for being too long and over-padded, but that doesn’t mean I don’t respect his output. He only made five movies for Studio Ghibli, but they were a testament to his genius even when I didn’t care for them. (I’m looking at you, My Neighbors the Yamadas!) If I can say that about a director I don’t love, then you have no excuse!

Transformers Have Won?

People love lamenting the “stench of Marvel movies” in modern Hollywood, but I’d argue individuals like Michael Bay have done more damage. For one, he’s been directing and producing longer than The MCU’s existence, and two, while there have been many MCU entries in a short period, Bay’s movies have also been worse qualitatively. Sure, he has a more-noticeable “style”, whatever that means, but that alone can’t compensate for substance. For the most part, his movies are over-long exercises in patience and leave me confused once they’re over, and this is especially true of the Transformers franchise. After all, it takes effort to make a brand for children an edgy and needlessly-dark series for obnoxious teenagers. It’s gotten so bad that once Bumblebee came out, and the movies moved away from Bay, the damage had already been done.

I mention this as a way of saying that I wasn’t looking forward to Transformers One, which was marketed as an origin story for Optimus Prime and Megatron. It was new for the franchise, and it was animated, but the trailers practically gave away all the major plot beats. It didn’t help that prequels have a hit-or-miss track record qualitatively, made worse by people already knowing the end point. Still, it was from the director of Toy Story 4, and that wowed me in ways I never thought possible. Surely this couldn’t be too bad, and I was willing to give it the benefit of the doubt.

Fortunately, my instincts proved right. Not only is Transformers One great, it’s arguably one of the year’s best, right up there with Thelma and Inside Out 2. It appears that the change in mediums hasn’t only improved the directing, but the change in focus has also improved the franchise. It’s not as good as Bumblebee, but that’s a high bar. I’d gladly go for the runner up anyway.

The premise is as the trailers suggested: Optimus Prime, or Orion Pax, and Megatron, or D-16, were friends before they were enemies. When Orion drags D-16 into another attempt at a better life, one that lands them as outcasts, the two of them, together with unlikely allies, discover a coverup that shatters their realities. Orion, ever the optimist, feels an obligation to expose this, while D-16, the more cynical of the two, feels betrayed entirely. It’s their opposing views on the situation that pulls them apart and turns them against one-another. Incidentally, this is also the heftiest Transformers movie dramatically.

The best part of the film is, like I said, the relationship between Orion Pax and D-16. Yes, the side-characters are fun. And yes, the numerous references and callbacks are appreciated, especially since they aren’t forced. But if that dynamic hadn’t worked, then this movie would’ve fallen flat. But it doesn’t.

I appreciate how the trajectories of the leads feel natural. This is especially true of D-16’s transformation into Megatron. It’s pretty in-vogue for villains to be morally-ambiguous, having a degree of depth not previously seen, yet while many stories bungle this, this film takes its time developing the change in character. D-16’s choices feel logical in context, as opposed to rushed. And while, yes, there are liberties taken to get to the end point, they’re forgivable because this is a 90+ minute movie, not a season of television.

It helps that, beneath the darkness, this is a funny movie. There were several times where I laughed harder than most of the kids in the auditorium, much to my embarrassment. The best jokes were from B, the comic-relief character who canonically becomes voiceless. His quips are natural and amusing, and his use of “Badassatron!” as a nickname for himself is one the best recurring gags. Orion Pax and D-16 might’ve been the heart and soul, but B was The MVP. I mean that.

The movie’s also great visually. The world of Cybertron has clearly-defined geography, making the fight scenes look and feel coherent. Transformers One is also unafraid to get violent when necessary, including deaths that absolutely warrant the PG-13 rating. If anything, animation’s the best medium for Transformers in hindsight, as destroyed robots feel real and believable without being excessively-gory. This is something Bay’s Transformers movies couldn’t pull off.

I want this movie to do well at the box-office. Not only because its post-credits scene teases a sequel, but also because it’s that good. This is a funny, intense and emotionally-impacting movie, and one for pre-teens! It’s not as good as Bumblebee, like I said earlier, but that’s because Bumblebee was secretly a drama that featured Transformers. And like I said before too, this is a fantastic consolation prize.

Please watch Transformers One. I know moviegoers have been irony-poisoned by the cynicism of the Bay movies, enough to be burnt out on future entries, but this is a genuinely fantastic experience that’s also better than it had any right to be. And if you don’t believe me? Well, why not check it out yourself? That alone should be cause to see it!

About "The Gays"

Set my “Hasn’t defended/criticized Disney in __ days” counter to 0!

2023 wasn’t a strong year Disney. With the exception of Elemental, which took a while, and Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3, none of their theatrical output gained financial traction. Additionally, the writers’ and actors’ strikes shed light on their reinstalled CEO’s views on creatives. And then there’s the Secret Invasion A.I. scandal, which left a bad taste. But I’ve already covered that.

One of the consequences was a decision to steer their future content in a different direction. No more original stories, it’s remakes and sequels from now on! Even Elio, their one original IP, has gone under the radar marketing-wise, and we’ve yet to see another trailer despite releasing next year. Still, the decision’s paid off so far, with Inside Out 2 surpassing the box-office of the remake of The Lion King. This despite Pixar laying off 14% of its workforce.

It'd be bittersweet that a Pixar sequel over-performed despite this, but the story doesn’t end there. According to IGN reports from laid-off employees, the higher-ups requested to tone down Riley’s romantic persuasion:

“…Sources describe rumors that there was special care put into making the relationship between Riley and Val, a supporting character introduced in Inside Out 2, seem as platonic as possible, even requiring edits to the lighting and tone of certain scenes to remove any trace of ‘romantic chemistry.’ One source describes it as ‘just doing a lot of extra work to make sure that no one would potentially see them as not straight.’”

This saddens me. The debate around Disney characters being gay became apparent with Ron DeSantis’s now-overturned “Don’t Say Gay” bill a few years ago. When Disney’s creatives pressured them to take a public stance, DeSantis threatened to revoke Disney’s special status, forcing a court case that he lost. I’d elaborate, but I’m not a legal expert. Besides, I’ve already shared my thoughts.

Anyway, Disney was slowly warming to queer representation with Strange World, which had an openly gay character in a leading role, and Lightyear, which featured a scene involving a lesbian couple kissing. Unfortunately, since both movies were box-office disappointments, as well as getting lukewarm reception, it seems like Disney’s having second thoughts. That Riley might’ve had an interest in an older girl in Inside Out 2 was promising, and not at all surprising, but removing hints of that to be “more universal” is depressing. I mean, it’s 2024. Do execs still think being gay isn’t universal in much of the world? Are they living in the 1960’s? Does no one at Disney read current events?

I could say so much negative about this, but I won’t. However, as someone who’s experienced genuine isolation and marginalization because of his disabilities, this stings. The scrubbing of Riley’s lesbianism, and let’s not pretend otherwise, wasn’t even that well-hidden. Pixar are masters of their craft, and Riley’s true character came through anyway. It was so clear that, despite not being openly said, I could tell right away.

This is also annoying because it defeats the purpose of Riley’s age and growth. Remember, she’s 13 here, hence a teenager. Teenagers experiment with a lot, including sexuality. It’s the transitionary period where they’re finding out who they really are, and while not always appropriate, that self-discovery should be encouraged. After all, what’s growth without making mistakes?

By removing this kind of experimentation, Pixar, and Disney generally, are making a statement about queer people. They might not be saying it outright, but they’re implying these individuals don’t matter. And for a multi-billion dollar conglomerate, this is a red flag. Especially since queer people connect with and watch their output. Why brush that aside?

It doesn’t help that queer people are still persecuted in countries where being openly queer is acceptable. The US, for instance, has the ever-looming shadow of Project 2025, and the chances of its mandates becoming law aren’t zero. Among these include a nation-wide ban on gay marriage. People might’ve fought for the right to marry the same sex, sometimes dying for it, but the pendulum could always swing the other way.

By scrubbing itself of a queer-inclusive image, Disney’s caving to a minority that doesn’t view queer people as valid. They’re submitting to DeSantis’s “Don’t Say Gay” law. They’re also paving the way for Project 2025’s mandates. That might sound extreme, but it’s a reality. And that’s upsetting.

It also takes the wrong lessons from past failures. I definitely liked Lightyear and Strange World more than many, but they lacked the narrative cohesion of Pixar and Disney’s best. However, that doesn’t mean including gay characters was bad. On the contrary, they were brave and welcomed inclusions. Why would that be what needs course correcting?

Part of me now prefers, in retrospect, that Disney hadn’t even “come out as an ally”. It feels like they were never sincere, queer-baiting people to make money. And yes, Rainbow Capitalism’s always been cynical. But it’s an attempt, which this is a slap in the face of. Especially since Riley’s queerness seeped through.

I don’t know how this can be resolved. Is it the end of the world? Maybe not. Is it the only problem with Disney’s business model, this movie in particular? Definitely not, assuming the former employees are to be believed. But it hurts. It hurts enough to write about it.

So yes, Disney, if you’re reading this…shame on you. I may like your output, and I’ll definitely watch it if I feel it’s worth my time, but you’ve disappointed me. You’ve taken what could’ve been potential for growth and learned the wrong lessons, irrespective of how you try to spin this. It sucks. Do better.

Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice

This isn’t news if you’ve read my previous stuff, but I’m mixed on Tim Burton. I respect his craft, and he’s talented, but his films have always been hit-or-miss for me. He also struggles with material that isn’t suited to his sensibilities, and even when something is…he needs to self-impose restraints to produce something good. He’s also kind of racist in his casting and storytelling, sanitizing stories from other cultures, but that’s for another day. Besides, I’ve already touched on that.

I mention all of this because Burton recently directed another movie. Not only that, a sequel to an earlier movie, and arguably one of his most-beloved. I’d never gotten into the Beetlejuice franchise outside of the cartoon I barely remember, but since the trailers for Beetlejuice Beetlejuice were an indication this’d be another winner, I decided to watch the 1988 film. After having now seen both movies…they’re okay. Cute, funny, but okay.

This is sounding anticlimactic, so I’ll mention now that “okay” isn’t inherently bad. Plenty of movies are okay, and that’s fine. Not everything will knock your socks off, and it’s important to adjust your expectations accordingly. Especially when it comes to classics from Tim Burton. We cool?

That’s not to say these movies aren’t worth discussing, as they are. Not only are they well-acted and directed, but the themes of grief, loss and learning to move on are their strongest qualities. I especially appreciate how the second movie isn’t afraid to follow-through on the protagonist from the first movie’s trauma and how that’s impacted her. Remember, Beetlejuice’s dénouement had Lydia Deetz marry a kooky poltergeist to save a recently-deceased couple from an exorcism, only to then have to find a way out. Even though that movie had a happy and fun ending, that’s going to haunt anyone.

How fitting, then, that both movies bookend actress Winona Ryder’s career. Ryder was a rising talent in the 80’s and 90’s, working her way up the ladder from being a Burton regular to becoming a big-name. Unfortunately, a shoplifting scandal in the 2000’s made her “toxic” to work with, and it wasn’t until Stranger Things that she bounced back. Starring in yet another Burton film, and a sequel to her breakout role, brings everything full-circle. Doubly-so now that her character’s a mother to Astrid, played by up-and-coming talent Jenna Ortega.

Let’s be clear: both Ryder and Ortega are fantastic. Ryder starting as a gothic teen and turning into a gothic adult makes a perfect foil to Ortega’s subdued and “normal” Astrid in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. I appreciate the parallels between Lydia being estranged from her parents in the first movie and Astrid being estranged from Lydia in the sequel. It’s a dynamic that’s played out from different angles, and it’s why these movies work. As George Lucas said: “It’s like poetry, they rhyme!”

But the real secret is Michael Keaton’s role as Beetlejuice. Specifically, the limited usage of Keaton. Sure, Keaton as the titular troublemaker’s one of the few instances where overacting feels earned and natural, chewing the scenery whenever he’s on-screen, but Burton’s smart enough to know to reign him in. It’s telling that Burton, a director who’s been accused of excess, recognizes this. It’s equally telling that he shows restraint with his effects in the sequel, opting for practical and stop-motion work. Given how ubiquitous CGI has become, particularly bad or unpolished CGI, that’s commendable.

Another aspect these movies have going for them is their score. Danny Elfman, for all the scandals he’s been embroiled in, is incredibly-talented, having composed for shows and movies that are often more iconic than what they’re meant for. He’s as prolific as he is memorable, but it’s his collaborations with Burton that’ve produced his best work. And the Beetlejuice franchise remains a prime example, with a motif that marries carnival vibes with haunted house vibes perfectly. If all else, Elfman’s theme for these movies works wonders.

My issue, then, is that these movies have the inverse problem of one-another. For Beetlejuice, it’s simple, but major: this is a well-written movie about coping with tragedy, but the Burton-y elements, particularly the ghostly stuff, aren’t fully-actualized. I’m not sure if it’s because it was an early project, hence lacking the budget and resources, but those elements feel undercooked. We only get about 30 minutes of ghostly and afterlife material, so this is mostly a straightforward drama about a ghostly couple shooing away a family and failing. It’s disappointing.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, however, takes full-advantage of its premise, even diving into the ghostly afterlife early, but it does so at the expense of its narrative. It’s not a badly-written movie, but it’s a messy one. It feels, to paraphrase someone in a Discord server I’m part of, like 3 or 4 scripts mashed together. It coalesces at the end, but the subplots often detract from the main story. It’s as if Burton realized the mistake of the first movie, only to overcorrect it here.

It feels like I’m being overly-harsh, but only because this highlights Burton’s strengths and flaws. He knows how to suck you in, but often at the cost of elements that’d elevate his movies. I wish that, if a third entry gets made, these strengths could be carried over into a great film. Keep the weirdness of the second movie, but don’t sacrifice the scripting of the first. That’s not that big an ask.

Either way, I implore you to check these movies out. We often bemoan Hollywood for being sterile, not taking risks on bizarre premises that utilize the medium of film properly, but the Beetlejuice movies show that spark still exists. All it takes is the right talent and audience engagement. Beetlejuice Beetlejuice even utilizes effects work that’s been abandoned in this day and age. That alone should pique people’s curiosity, even if it’s a legacy sequel. It piqued mine!

Now then, about the sequel’s bonkers ending…what’s up with that?