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!