'Spirited Away' still via YouTube
There's a quote on Tumblr somewhere that says
"Disney movies touch the heart, but Studio Ghibli films touch the soul." As
sentimental as that is, it's also astute. It's surely part of the reason that anime
fans across the world will testify that Hayao Miyazaki's
Spirited Away is the best animation film of all time. On the
15th anniversary of its release in Japan,
Sen to Chihiro no
Kamikakushi—translated as "Sen and Chihiro's Spiriting
Away"—remains untouched by rivals for its blend of the spiritual, the
realistic, the fantastic, and the human. For balancing all of those realms,
Miyazaki was the master, and since his retirement, we'll continue to look on
Spirited
Away
as the film that was the masterpiece of his life.
At its most basic, the film follows a little
girl, Chihiro, on a journey to free her parents. She has to navigate the spirit
world she gets trapped in by working in a bathhouse run by an overlord called
Yu-baaba. Miyazaki said he'd decided to make it based on the ten-year-old
daughter of friend, associate producer Seiji Okuda, who came to stay
with him every summer. With this in mind, he made the movie for ten-year-old
girls. This is exactly why it resonates so well with people of all ages and why
Chihiro feels so real. How often can you say a film has been made for young girls, rather than money or mainstream audiences?
Many male critics described Chihiro as a
"sullen" and "spoiled" girl, and continue to describe her as such. This is
hardly a fair criticism, nor is it an accurate one. When we meet Chihiro, she's
being driven away from her home and everything she knows to live in a new town.
All she has to remember her friends is a bouquet. "The only time I got a
bouquet and it's a goodbye present. How depressing," she says, only to be reminded
by her mom that her dad bought her one for her birthday. She shrugs this off,
understandably. Few ten-year-olds would behave so well given the upheaval. When
the family exit the car, entranced by the lead up to the abandoned theme park
that will soon trap them, Chihiro is "whiny" because her intuition is correct.
She follows behind her parents, worried by the little shines and the appearance
of the food with no vendor, warning that they shouldn't be there. These critics will see that she spends the remainder of the film laboring not only for their ignorance but also the fact that they ignore the voice of a young girl.
Still via Wiki
What sets her story apart is that Chihiro isn't
forced to triumph over great evil and turn from a "sullen" creature to a good
girl. Far better than that, it's a film about honest development. Miyazaki
shows her slowly forcing herself to adapt to her environment and be open to the
tasks ahead, quietly tackling them as best she can. She has
trouble walking down the steps to the boiler man, Kamaji, but eventually
manages to make it down. Kamaji keeps ignoring her, but she knows she must get a job at
the bathhouse to survive in this new spirit world, so doesn't stop until he
helps her. Her careful thinking and determination quickly reward her when she
realizes a stinky spirit was actually a polluted river spirit who needed to be
freed from all the junk surrounding it. The fact the film was made without a
script only adds to this natural evolution of Chihiro. "I
don't have the story finished and ready when we start work on a film," Miyazaki
once told
Midnight Eye. "It's not me who makes the film. The
film makes itself, and I have no choice but to follow." The entire team must
instead live the character's reality step by step, and you can feel this
intuition.
Caught in the flow of
narrative are some of the most beautiful stills in modern cinema, let alone
animation. As critic Roger Ebert pointed out in his review of the film, each
frame is made with an overwhelming amount of "generosity and love." Dozens of different
creatures are made for each moment, every last detail penned by hand in the
corners or background, where anyone else would make shortcuts. Importantly, we
have time to breathe and live in Miyazaki's world. He said that these scenes
where nothing really happens are called "ma," or "emptiness." "The
people who make the movies are scared of silence, so they want to paper and
plaster it over," he said. "They're worried that the audience will
get bored. But just because it's 80 percent intense all the time, doesn't mean
the kids are going to bless you with their concentration. What really matters
is the underlying emotions—that you never let go of those."
Interestingly, it's the "ma" moments that have become iconic as the film
has aged—Chihiro standing on the balcony outside the bedroom looking out
to sea, lost; Chihiro and her friends, No-Face, Boh, and the Yu-Bird sat looking
lost on a train.
Still via Wiki
This beauty is universal, but of
course there's subtlety that's lost in translation. Plenty of Japanese speakers
have pointed out the visual clues in the film that non-Japanese speakers wouldn't know.
When approaching the doomed theme park market in the opening, in one frame, we
see the Kanji character,
狗 for dog, but this could
suggest the homophone kuniku, which literally means "bitter meat," meaning
something that requires personal sacrifice. Another character here for "bone"
seems to hint toward an idiomatic phrase hone-nashi meaning to lack in moral
backbone. When the father marches greedily through an arch, a Japanese viewer
would note that some of the characters on it are back to front, supporting the
unease Chihiro is also feeling. Some viewers have highlighted the repetition of the
characters yu and me in the film since yume means "dream" in Japanese.
Names themselves are important as a signifier of
identity throughout. Chihiro's name literally means "a thousand" and "asking
questions" or "searching/seeking." When Yu-baaba takes a character from Chihiro's name to cruelly rename her and sign the contract handing the girl over to her, Chihiro's new name, Sen, just means "a thousand." She's stripped of that meaning; she's herself, but
there's a part of her that's missing. The other characters' names also have
literal connotations. Boh means "little boy" or "son," Kamaji means "old boiler man," Yu-baaba means "bathhouse," "old woman," or "witch," and Zeniiba means "money witch."
As with any film that has quickly reached a cult
status, you can fall down a hole of Spirited
Away theories. One suggests that the whole thing is an allegory for
child prostitution, with the bathhouse taking on more sinister undertones.
Miyazaki
did once say that Japanese
society has become like the sex industry. Another reading is that the spirit
world represents old Japan, one that is struggling alongside new Japan, the
"real" world of Chihiro and her family. In this case, the moral of the story is
that, like Chihiro, Japan should learn that both past and present worlds can exist alongside each other
but must adapt and change. Some look to the opposing forces of gross capitalism
and spirituality shown in the film. Chihiro is moving towns because her dad has a new job. When
they approach the theme park, her dad comments that they were going to put a
river there but didn't—they built a failed money-making venture instead. The other day someone tweeted asking Studio Ghibli what the
relevance was of
Chihiro's parents turning into pigs. They replied that the transformation is reflective of how
people turned into pigs during Japan's bubble economy of the 1980s, which was
followed by a 1991 crash, and once someone becomes a pig, he or she will gradually have
the "body and soul of a pig," which "doesn't just apply to the fantasy world."
Image via Wiki
What anyone of any age can take away
from
Spirited Away is the importance of
balance. There's no evil character, despite poor motives. Everyone has a good
side or the potential for good—even Yu-baaba, as seen in her twin
sister. The mud monster isn't actually terrible but underneath it all is a kama
no kami, a "god of the river." The opposite of balance is excess, and as seen in
the parents gorging themselves until they become pigs or the greed and wealth
displayed in the bath house, nothing positive can come of it.
This delivery of sensitive
spiritual and emotional messages made
Spirited Away
the highest-grossing film in Japanese history. It won awards across the world,
including an Academy Award, an event that Miyazaki politely declined to attend
because he was against American involvement in the war in Iraq. Significantly,
it was with this film that he introduced hundreds of thousands to the films of
Studio Ghibli, who might not have discovered the animation house otherwise. It's
a rare film that young fans will keep with them and show to their children and
grandchildren. Ultimately,
Spirited Away
showed how breathtaking, heartfelt, and serious animation can be; its
lessons ones that Pixar, Disney, and other mainstream animators have still
failed to genuinely realize 15 years later.
Follow Hannah Ewens on Twitter.