This month, the Light House Cinema hosted a ‘Studio Ghibli Forever’ season. The Facebook event page was inundated by teenagers, students and adults alike, all clicking the ‘interested’ button to affirm their desire for watching world-renowned Japanese anime films on the big screen. Founded in Tokyo in 1985, Studio Ghibli has grown exponentially in popularity and reputation in the past 30 years. Apart from the beautifully hand-drawn animation, the appeal of these films crosses many borders; for children it is the magical realms and extraordinary creatures that are created, for adults it is how these films seem to magnify the wonder of their past youth, and for students, they are often considered as arthouse pieces. Hayao Miyazaki, co-founder and director of many of Studio Ghibli’s finest films, oversaw the studio’s success in English-speaking countries, with his masterpiece Spirited Away winning an Academy Award in 2003. His retirement coincided with the release of his last film The Wind Rises and despite the tremendous loss to the company, Studio Ghibli still continues to produce animation films that attract large audiences around the world.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve made the journey to the Light House Cinema in Smithfield, to soak up screening after screening of the best of Studio Ghibli. Despite the trek, the Light House Cinema was the perfect venue for such a special season. The quirky seat colours, the spacious interiors and the glittering fairy lights complimented each screening well, and the atmosphere was only further boosted by the Totoro decorations and the excitable staff. For many, including myself, this season was an opportunity to revisit some favourite childhood classics and revel in their simple charm. Writing this review in retrospect, there is a whole lot more to these anime films than I initially thought.
The first film I re-watched at the Light House was Grave of the Fireflies, one of Ghibli’s first ventures into cinema. Based on a short story of the same name, it follows two siblings, Seita and Setsuko, as they navigate war-torn Japan during the Second World War. The premise is simple, and the relationship between the two brothers is simple, but apart from that, Grave of the Fireflies is a complex and poignant war drama imbued by a haunting score. It is one of those few children’s movies that refuses to shy away from serious, dark themes. Miyazaki, directing here, handles the issues of conflict and loss with an effortless touch, all the while conjuring up a sense of childhood nostalgia for the audience.
Next on the list was My Neighbour Totoro. The adorable, wide-eyed bunny figure of Totoro is a ubiquitous sight in popular culture today. Having recently undergone a resurgence in popularity, the film’s title character can be seen in many shop windows, on everything from teddy bears and mugs to hats and bags. Watching the 1980’s classic on the big screen was a strange experience. Having regarded Totoro and his comrades as the emblem of everything Studio Ghibli, my expectations were understandably high. Within half an hour of the film beginning, finding myself fully immersed in the story, my hopes were confirmed. To describe My Neighbour Totoro into a succinct synopsis is a mistake. One thing I will say, however, is that it does an excellent job at centralising death and a child’s understanding of it. For all its sweetness, My Neighbour Totoro examines a fear that all children feel at some point – that of the impending death of their loved ones. In a neat little package of just 80 minutes, Studio Ghibli have produced a movie that conveys the healing power of a child’s imagination.
Princess Mononoke, on the other hand, is Studio Ghibli’s venture into the action-drama genre. There isn’t a moment of respite for the characters here, as they desperately try to defend their forest against human encroachment. It is vibrant, unrelenting and brutal. Just as Grave of the Fireflies portrays the repercussions of war on human beings, Princess Mononoke revolves around the negative effects of our consumption of the natural world on the creatures that inhabit it. The film marked the beginning of a new era for Studio Ghibli. After this, the studio’s films became far more nuanced. In part due to its distribution deal with Walt Disney Productions the following year, Studio Ghibli finally gained recognition in English-speaking countries and the financial support that this created meant that from the late nineties onward, the company entered its Golden Age.
As the season drew to a close, I managed to see their latest release, When Marnie Was There. Studio Ghibli has been continuously praised for the way in which it regularly casts female leads in their films; female leads, that aren’t necessarily strong but rather entirely human. While these efforts are always welcome, in this film, the poor writing and character development prevent the heroine from being convincing. Anna is an incredibly unlikeable girl. She has terrible social skills, talks to her mother in cold tones and views herself as completely blameless whenever she makes a mistake. She is young and naive, and the director heavy-handedly attempts to steer her character in the right direction as the film draws to a close. Her flaws are too easily rectified for it to feel like we are watching the growth of a young teenage girl. That being said, When Marnie Was There offers moments of poignancy and humour, mystery and silliness; and most of these moments are delivered with a beautiful, ethereal score. It’s just a shame that the lead character isn’t strong enough to hold the weight of this film on her shoulders.
At the end of June, Spirited Away was shown, an apt conclusion to a wonderful season at the Light House cinema. This film, also directed by Miyazaki, encapsulates the magic of Studio Ghibli. A young girl, moody and unappreciative of her parents (very much like Anna), is thrown into a parallel world in which witchcraft and magic rule. Spirited Away takes you by the hand and refuses to let go until the credits roll. It reminded me of the powerful imagination that Studio Ghibli is famed for and reaffirmed my hopes that it is indeed possible to release a successful film with a female lead who is fully fleshed. If you haven’t seen a Ghibli film yet, I implore you to start with this one.
By the end of Studio Ghibli Forever, it was difficult to return to normality. Unfortunately, there are no dragons, giant rabbits or forest gods in real life. But beyond the drama and spectacle of each film, Miyazaki’s company have shown me that it is possible to make movies that speak to children and adults, and everyone in between. In terms of creativity and innovation, Studio Ghibli, in my eyes, remains unrivaled and I look forward to seeing what new and exciting places their films will take us to next.