REVIEW: "Marcel the Shell With Shoes On" (2022)

The best film of 2022, by far, has nothing to do with the multiverse or Tom Cruising around in jet planes (as incredible as Everything Everywhere All At Once and Top Gun: Maverick were, respectively). It stars a tiny, google-eyed mollusk--in miniature footwear, no less--on a quest to find his family. 

What began as a trilogy of YouTube shorts, followed by two children's books, Marcel the Shell With Shoes On is now a 90-minute stop-motion adventure in a live-action setting, shot in the style of a documentary. Director/co-writer Dean Fleisher-Camp (who helmed the original shorts) plays the man behind the camera, while actress/co-writer Jenny Slate reprises her role as the adorable voice of Marcel, who lives with his grandmother Nana Connie (voiced by actress Isabella Rosselini). 

The premise sounds absurd, not to mention simple considering its view of the world from the smallest perspective. But Marcel (both the character and the film) is actually deeper and more emotionally-resonant. It contains various existential and philosophical themes of life, death, loneliness, angst, separation (including divorce), mental illness (i.e., Nana Connie's condition, possibly memory loss), our need for connection and community, and the difference between the latter and an "audience." The beauty of nature is in the smallest of details, which should be enough to indicate the artists' dedication behind the scenes. 

The look of the film is a cheerful delight. I couldn't help but wonder how some of the visual effects were done. The effective and believable combination of stop-motion animation, live-action environments, and creative writing, directing, and worldbuilding makes Marcel work on multiple levels. Talk about genre-bending, even incorporating "60 Minutes" into its plot. (Those who didn't know reporter Lesley Stahl will certainly know her now.) 

This is a rare film that works for everybody. It also happens to be distributor A24's first "family" film and their 4th PG-rated feature (following 2017's Menashe, 2019's The Farewell, and this year's After Yang); its primary reasons for the rating include subtle-but-humorous references to shower hairs and some unnecessary misuses of God's name. 

Those elements notwithstanding, Marcel couldn't be more timely, especially after being in isolation for several months. It stands in a category of its own, although it does recall similar tones and aesthetics seen in previous animation like Aardman's 1989 claymation short Creature Comforts, Sony's 2007 CG penguin-surfing comedy Surf's Up, and Studio Ghibli's 2010 hand-drawn adaptation of Mary Norton's The Borrowers, The Secret World of Arrietty. (Slate has sited Ghibli co-founder Hayao Miyazaki as a major influence.) Marcel is thoroughly irresistible, funny, and heartwarming. You can't help but cry and smile. 

REVIEW COLLECTION: The Library of Studio Ghibli, Part 2 (The 1990s)

WRITER'S NOTE: The following is a collection of reviews posted on my Instagram page @film_freeq. They’ve been organized by their initial release dates, and have been slightly edited.

Only Yesterday (1991) 

Up until 2016, this engrossing coming-of-age story (written and directed by Ghibli co-founder Isao Takahata) had never been released in North America. In celebration of the film's 25th anniversary, we're glad it was.

Only Yesterday follows a young woman in her late-20s, named Taeko, as she recounts her childhood in the 1960s, while visiting family in the countryside in present-day early-1980s. The story jumps back and forth between the past (animated in dream-like watercolors) and the present (with lighting that feels natural), as Taeko recalls her upbringing with family (the scene where they eat a pineapple for the first time is a standout), trends and hot-button topics in school (including discussions about periods, teenage hormones, and math), missed opportunities, and life in the city vs. life in the country. Even the editing style (a unique trademark of Takahata's) is key, with quick cuts related to Taeko's memories. Other themes include the meaning of "home" vs. how one is or was raised; remembering the hopes and dreams of your childhood, yet not defining yourself by your past; and, finally, learning to be real with yourself.

Upon my first viewing of this beautiful and amazing film, I could already tell it was something special. Only Yesterday stands with the best live-action features, because its characters and animation are so rich and believable. It also has a unique sense of humor, quirks and all, while there is power in its more quiet moments. I cannot recommend it enough.

Porco Rosso (1992) 

Hayao Miyazaki's films each evoke a sense of flight, one way or another. Whether it's Kiki flying on her broomstick, floating cities in Castle in the Sky, or wind riders in Nausicaä. With his 1992 aerial adventure Porco Rosso, the legendary director's lifelong fascination with aviation is literally central to the plot this time around.

Set in a pre-Fascist Italy in the 1930s, Porco is, perhaps, Miyazaki's wittiest and most comedic film. Its titular character is a flying ace-turned-bounty hunter, cursed with the face of a pig, as he battles air pirates (one of whom clearly resembles Popeye's nemesis Bluto) and takes up a feisty protégé who is smarter than she looks (subtle themes of gender equality in tact). Featuring swashbuckling action and melodramatic-but-genuine romance that recalls Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman from Casablanca, Porco also has rich attention-to-detail in the animation of its planes and the work put into them (kudos to the sound department); you can almost feel the wood, the metal, the engines, the weilding.

The film is full of life and humor. It's opening credits (recalling the opening sequence of Totoro) are a fun and creative example of multicultural appeal, while concept art during the end credits is evocative and meditative. The same goes for some deep spiritual imagery of various planes ascending into the heavens in another sequence. The only minor drawbacks to this high-flying adventure are instances of smoking and drinking, as well as scenes of violent gunplay and brawling. Other than that, Porco Rosso soars.

TRIVIAL FACT: Miyazaki would return to the theme of aviation only one other time, with his 2013 film The Wind Rises.

Ocean Waves (1993) 

One of the very rare Ghibli films made exclusively for television, this young-adult feature was also the first made by a younger staff at the studio, and the first without any involvement from Hayao Miyazaki or Isao Takahata. Like Only Yesterday, Ocean Waves is another unseen gem that had never been released in North America until recent years. From director Tomomi Mochizuki and adapted from Saeko Himuro's novel of the same name, the story is told from the perspective of two best friends (Taku and Yutaka) who fall for the new girl in high school (Rikako). The former friend reflects on one particular summer trip as he heads to a class reunion.

Other themes include class structure and integration; teen angst (at least two scenes get emotionally violent), romance, and isolation; cultural differences; and memory. Ocean Waves also benefits from a clever editing style, as well as striking sketches during the end credits.

Pom Poko (1994) 

In the mid-1990s, writer-director Isao Takahata made a film about a community of raccoon dogs (tanuki) who attempt to save their forest from rapid urban developing, through the ancient art of shape-shifting. Told from multiple voiceovers, Pom Poko (a phrase that refers to the titular creatures drumming their bellies) covers numerous, sometimes heavy, themes as environmentalism, man's relationship with or destruction of nature, "divine retribution," and consumerism via homes, shopping malls and golf courses. (The English dub isn't bad, and explains these themes a bit more clearly.) It's like an Akira Kurosawa epic, but with animals.

The film has some of the liveliest animation I've ever seen, with multiple examples of morphing, distinct personality traits, and character movements. The opening sequence, where two opposing clans change from four-legged creatures to two-legged warriors, is captivating. Ditto the bizarre "parade," where two men debate over fantasy and reality, unaware of the supernatural events going on behind them. The filmmakers and artists even play around with various anime styles and caricatures, most of them very amusing and funny.

Essentially, this is a story of the difficulty in adjusting to an ever-growing and -changing world. But it does so through the lens of animism and Eastern mysticism. Not to mention a few melancholy "survival of the fittest" worldviews, as well as scenes of imagery that get weirder and weirder.

TRIVIAL FACT #1: This may have been one of the first Ghibli projects to incorporate CGI--the library scene being a case in point.

TRIVIAL FACT #2: Pom Poko may have also been the first (and only?) Ghibli film to reference real-life companies, including Disneyland and McDonald's.

Whisper of the Heart (1995) 

Fantasy-dramas are like rare gems. They're very hard to come by, and amazing to behold. Such is the case with this contemporary coming-of-age tale from Studio Ghibli. In the same category as Only Yesterday and Ocean Waves, Whisper of the Heart is about a bookish teenage girl (Shizuku) who aspires to be a writer, a young violin-making boy (Seiji) with ambitions of his own, and a mysterious ceramic, anthropomorphic feline (known as the Baron).

Written by Hayao Miyazaki and adapted from Aoi Hiiragi's celebrated manga, the film is less fantastical than the ads suggest, and is more of a journey of self-discovery, teenage romance, destiny, and growing up. But that doesn't make it any less immersive or challenging.

John Denver's song, "Take Me Home, Country Road," plays a significant role in the plot, especially during a strings-vocal duet that quietly turns into a lovely jam session. Even Seiji's violins-in-the-making parallel the effort and dedication of the animators behind the scenes, and therefore the story's themes of valuing hard work and being real with one's self. ("You made all these by hand? It's like magic.")

The artists also did an incredible job making the skies--and views from above the clouds--beautiful and ethereal, with a breathtaking score by Yûji Nomi to go with them. Like the Baron figure's translucent eyes in sunlight, Whisper of the Heart is a true gem.

TRIVIAL FACT #1: If you look closely, during the scene with the grandfather clock, the name "Porco Rosso" is written in the center (a reference to Miyazaki's previous film).

TRIVIAL FACT #2: This was the first and only feature film directed by Yoshifumi Kondo, who had been a Ghibli animator on films like Grave of the Fireflies, Kiki's Delivery Service, and Pom Poko. He sadly passed away three years after Whisper's release, from a ruptured aneurysm. His final credit was as a supervising animator on Miyazaki's next (and, perhaps, most ambitious) project.

Princess Mononoke (1997) 

Hayao Miyazaki's epic masterpiece, set during the brutal backdrop of feudal Japan, follows a young warrior prince, named Ashitaka, as he is stricken with a deadly curse and journeys west to find a cure.

Princess Mononoke is one of the most astounding, breathtaking, and violent films I've ever seen. It grips you immediately with its bold mythology, as well as adult themes (a far cry from the fantastical features in the Ghibli library up until then, and certainly not for children), Joe Hisaishi's sweeping score, and murky spirituality--with the latter leaning more towards a pantheistic and pessimistic worldview. This is Miyazaki's most ambitious and challenging film. (It's arguably the studio's most intense since 1988's Grave of the Fireflies.)

One thing it does have in common with the Ghibli brand (and Miyazaki's films) is man's relationship with nature. In this case, an intense battle between human beings, forest animals (including giant wolves and boars) and ancient spirits, with the fierce and vengeful San--a human raised by wolves--at the center.

The imagery, as bold and detailed as it is, does get dark and graphic, with scenes of demon-possessed creatures, fast-paced, character-driven combat, and bloodied, severed limbs. On the other hand, it illustrates the theme of how rage and hatred, as well as pain and suffering, consumes and destroys everything in its path. The same goes for its themes of industrialization, as seen in Lady Eboshi's Irontown. As a film, I give Mononoke credit for changing my perception of what I thought animé was capable of. It's a transcending and, again, challenging experience.

TRIVIAL FACT #1: At 2 hours and 13 minutes, this was the studio's longest film--up until Isao Takahata's 2013 pic, The Tale of the Princess Kaguya, which ran 5 minutes longer.

TRIVIAL FACT #2: At the time of its release, Mononoke was the highest-grossing film in Japanese history, but only just. It was eventually topped by James Cameron's Titanic. Four years later, Miyazaki would reclaim that title, once again, with another ambitious feature.

My Neighbors the Yamadas (1999) 

Isao Takahata's charming adaptation of Hisaichi Ishii's comic strip of the same name is a radical departure from his more mature and ambitious films up until then. Using a distinct and simplistic animation style, as well as watercolors, My Neighbors the Yamadas is a series of infectious vignettes about a quirky nuclear family. 

As he did with Only Yesterday, Takahata reminds us that cel animation is the best medium for his trademark merging of fantasy and reality. This is key in imaginative sequences that serve as metaphors within the Yamada clan, including stern patriarch Takashi, his wife Matsuko, teenage son Noboru, younger daughter Nonoko, and sharp-tongued grandmother Kikuchi. Said metaphors range from marriage (bobsledding around a giant wedding cake) to childrearing (bicycling in front of a giant snail), along with other existential, social, and familial themes throughout. 

One clever moment finds the parents facing off against the television remote as if dancing the tango, while another scene (featuring a motorcycle gang) has an unexpectedly refined and mature look. With chapter titles that include, "Art is Brief, Life is Long" and "Age Comes More Easily Than Wisdom," Yamadas is funny, heartwarming, and full of life. 

TRIVIAL FACT: Takahata would use a similar animation style for his next feature film, 14 years later. 

REVIEW COLLECTION: "Despicable Me" series

WRITER'S NOTE: The following is a collection of reviews posted on my Instagram page @film_freeq. They’ve been organized by their initial release dates and have been slightly edited.

Here's a brief look back at what may be Universal Pictures' most popular animated franchise. Minions assemble! 

***

Despicable Me (2010) 

The debut feature film from Illumination Entertainment was a surprise smash at the turn of the decade. In an era of computer-animated juggernauts by Pixar, DreamWorks, and Blue Sky, it was surprising to see an original story about a wanna-be supervillian (amusingly voiced by who else but Steve Carell) who attempts to pull of the greatest crime of all-time: stealing the moon. 

When he mischievously adopts three orphaned girls to help him, they soon grow on him and eventually change his outlook on life for the better. In short, what begins as a clever and consistently-funny action-comedy (the pill-shaped henchman Minions steal the show) slowly becomes a heartwarming adventure about family. How's that for a surprise? 

FUN FACT: This would've been fun to see in theaters in 3D, if only for the theme park and end credits sequences. 

Despicable Me 2 (2013) 

There's no denying the Despicable Me film series is a crowd-pleasing affair. The zany, yellow pill-shaped Minions have since become a staple in pop culture. The catchy tune "Happy" (from the 2013 sequel) has since made prolific music artist/producer Pharrell Williams a household name (just as Disney's Frozen did for Idina Menzel that same year). And the quality in animation courtesy Illumination Entertainment has competed fairly well with the likes of DreamWorks and Pixar. But the 2013 megahit is actually a more significant film than most people give it credit for. 

Again, the animation has improved greatly since its 2010 predecessor. (Illumination had made only three films by this point.) The laughs keep coming, and they're consistently hilarious. Even though the Minions steal more of the spotlight this time around, Despicable Me 2 is a very worthwhile story of family and parenting. Former supervillian Gru adjusts to his new role as a father figure and keeping his former days behind him. Things get exciting when he's called by an "anti-villian" spy organization (including Kristen Wiig's quirky agent Lucy Wilde) to stop an old nemesis. 

This was the first time the studio had changed their marketing strategy, as early trailers played like extended clips from the movie. Even though that strategy has generally shifted to "what you see is what you get" for subsequent releases, it really paid off with Despicable Me 2. A few crude moments (including a questionable "fake death") are a bit much in what is otherwise an accessible and universal comedy. This is Illumination's best film, and one of the greatest sequels ever made. I'll even go so far as calling it one of the best animated films of all-time.

Minions (2015) 

The inevitable prequel to Despicable Me chronicles where those Twinkie-shaped, gibberish-talking henchmen came from and what they did before they met Gru in the 2010 surprise hit. The story (though that's not really the film's main concern) follows Kevin, Stuart and Bob, as they venture out into the world to find the "biggest, baddest villain" for their tribe to serve. They find one in Scarlett Overkill (voiced by Sandra Bullock), but only just.

Set primarily in the late-1960s, there are plenty of fun nods to trends and music of the time for adults to catch. Interestingly, 2015 was also an exceptional year for 60s-inspired blockbusters, particularly spy films, including The Man from U.N.C.L.E., Mission: Impossible--Rogue Nation, and Spectre. For everyone else, the sheer silliness of these characters' antics recalls the classic slapstick mayhem of Three Stooges films and Looney Tunes cartoons. Plus, the aforementioned gibberish language has made them accessible and cute around the world.

But perhaps that's also the film's greatest weakness, making it more about style and comedy than substance, as well as a little more questionable in its elements of "rude humor" than the previous Despicable Mes.

Two things I find the most fascinating: 1) how the filmmakers were able to craft a unique and plausible language for these characters (three other recent movies that did something similar were Avatar, with its Na'vi people; Shaun the Sheep, with its farm animals; and WALL*E, with its robots), and 2) how they creatively sustained that for a 90-minute feature. A bold risk, I'll give them that. More importantly, just as Marvel movies represent the Saturday matinee serials of the 21st Century, the Minions are this generation's Looney Tunes/Three Stooges. 

TRIVIAL FACT #1: The weekend of August 28-30 that year, this Illumination-produced flick became the third animated film in history to cross the $1 billion global mark, following Pixar's Toy Story 3 (2010) and Disney's Frozen (2013).

Despicable Me 3 (2017) 

After two hit films and a blockbuster prequel, the Despicable Me franchise started to lose some of its luster by the time Illumination got to this second sequel from 2017. 

One of the major elements that doesn't work is its primary subplot of superdad-turned-superspy Gru (Steve Carell) discovering and meeting his twin brother Dru (also Carell). The materialistic sibling (as well as the Minions, headed by new rebel leader Mel) further tries to persuade the former-supervillain to go back to a life of crime, especially after Gru and fellow agent Lucy lose their jobs. Lucy adjusting to her new role as a mom, as well as the Minions serving jail time, work much better. 

Many will agree that Despicable Me 3 is the weakest in the series. But it still have its moments, including Pharrell Williams' catchy music, a highlight song-and-dance rendition of Gilbert & Sullivan in all of the Minions' typical gibberish vernacular, and a hilarious foe (voiced by, of all people, South Park co-creator Trey Parker). The 80s-centric and spoiled former-TV-child-star Balthazar Bratt is a great example of the main "villain" stealing the show, and may be the franchise's best by far. 

TRIVIAL FACT: This was the first DM installment (and Illumination project) to be produced in an anamorphic wide-screen format (2.35:1). 

Minions: The Rise of Gru (2022) 

If I may be candid, I theorize that animation studio Illumination has been playing it safe with various franchises in its now-decade-old filmography. Granted, they have branched out with other entities like The Secret Life of Pets (the 2019 follow-up deserves another look) and Sing (the star-studded song-and-dance musicals with animals), as well as a couple of Dr. Seuss adaptations (see 2018's The Grinch). That being said, they seem to be making some improved steps with an upcoming version of Super Mario Bros (starring Chris Pratt), as well as an original comedy called Migration (written by School of Rock scribe Mike White). 

As for their most popular franchise (and iconic yellow mascots), the company seems to have been doing something of a retcon of Despicable Me since 2015 and/or 2017. The second installment in the prequel series mostly succeeds in standing on its own without treading familiar territory. Set in the mid-1970s (groovy bellbottoms and disco music in tact), Minions: The Rise of Gru has funnyman Steve Carell reprising one of his greatest roles, this time as a pre-teenage (and naive) wannabe supervillain hoping to join his favorite bad guys. A turn-of-events--and more Minion madness (with Kevin, Stuart, and Bob headlining once again, but almost upstaged by newcomer Otto)--lead to loads of crazy shenanigans that kids will instantly love but adults can enjoy, too. (Remember, this is a cartoon. But an event cartoon, at best.) 

Taking a cue from Marvel's current phase, this film incorporates ancient magic along with its creative techno-gadgetry. The filmmakers even went as far as casting Michelle Yeoh as a former kung-fu instructor. Even Otto's google-eyed pet rock shares another connection with this year's Everything Everywhere All At Once. Hmm. 

If there's an underlying theme, it has to do with characters (young and old) trying to prove their worth and value, even though their objectives are misguided. As far as going back to the movies again, maybe a little zany humor is what we need. 

The MCU, Phase Four: "Thor: Love and Thunder" (2022)

Thor has now officially bested fellow Avengers Iron Man and Captain America with the most solo outings in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It's interesting that it took as many films for Chris Hemsworth's God of Thunder to find his own unique footing, and counting. The first movie from 2011 was a noble and entertaining (if loud) origin story, while 2013's The Dark World still holds the distinction of being the black sheep of the MCU (although, it's not that bad). 

It was also around this time that Hemsworth started to grow disillusioned with the character. Enter Taika Waititi, the New Zealand-based filmmaker who's made a career from offbeat, quirky projects. With the 2017 third installment, Ragnorok, Waititi brought a fresh visual spin along with his own unique brand of comedy--something that was off-putting to a lot of people, but seemed to grow on them as they understood Waititi's trademarks over time. 

With the latest MCU chapter in Phase Four, Thor: Love and Thunder redefines the "go big or go home" aesthetic of blockbuster moviemaking. It's thrilling. It has exciting set pieces, visual feasts for the eyes (including the sights of Omnipotent City), and energetic action sequences. The aforementioned banter works best during moments of camaraderie between Hemsworth, Tessa Thompson's Valkyrie, and Natalie Portman's "worthy" return as Jane Foster a.k.a. Mighty Thor. (Don't ask me how.) It's also cool to see the Guardians of the Galaxy in on some of the action, and to hear several 80s rock anthems--especially Guns 'n Roses' "Sweet Child of Mine"--put to good use. 

However, like Thor's current identity crisis and damaged Mjolnir hammer, Love and Thunder struggles to hold itself together. One minute, it's rapid-fire witty, and the next, it's quite dark (a standout Christian Bale is menacing and frightening as the villainous Gorr). The film ups the ante of its content issues from the last installment, not to mention the industry's growing inclusion of LGBTQ representation. (Okay, not every mainstream movie has to have these just for the sake of them, or to try and stay relevant.) Plus, the film's handling of various spiritual/religious elements will make it hard for more discerning or sensitive viewers to navigate through. 

Thor may have the most solo MCU movies at this point. But, as he himself may be the first to admit, he still has some growing to do. Something similar could be said for Marvel's current phase, which has no doubt been ambitious as it has been challenging. At least there are new updates with other former Avengers (including "the big guy") and Guardians (Vol. 3 next year!) on the horizon. 

REVIEW COLLECTION: The Library of Studio Ghibli, Part 1 (1979-1989)

WRITER'S NOTE: The following is a collection of reviews posted on my Instagram page @film_freeq. They’ve been organized by their initial release dates, and have been slightly edited.

One of my favorite hubs on the HBO Max streaming service is the Studio Ghibli library. With the exception of two of these titles*, every feature film since 1984's Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind can be seen, including projects from up-and-coming directors. 

*Lupin III: The Castle of Cagliostro (1979) 

The feature film debut of legendary animé director Hayao Miyazaki may be one of his most overlooked pictures. Based on his manga of the same name, this cartoony action-adventure follows a charismatic thief and (along with his accomplice) his pursuit of an ancient, abandoned palace. Full of many ironic twists and turns, as well as fast-paced action sequences--even in its first 30 minutes--one can tell they're in for a unique and original ride, complete with subplots involving counterfeit money, secret rings and organizations, a runaway princess, an evil count, and Interpol agents hot on their trail.

Many of Miyazaki's trademarks were established here: dynamic characters, rich worldbuilding, and scenes of aerial flight. What makes Cagliostro different from the aeteur's subsequent features, however, is the titular male protagonist, whose rescuing of the aforementioned princess is noble, if a bit misguided. Still, Miyazaki's mastery of the medium and his signature storytelling, from the get-go, are transcending.

TRIVIAL FACT: This is the first in a series of Studio Ghibli reviews (although Cagliostro was made six year's before the company's founding), with the goal of posting at least one film per week. (Easier said than done.) Based on a suggestion from @kaptainkristian, I made sure to watch each of these films in their original Japanese versions (with English subtitles). [*Available on YouTube, Google Play Movies & TV, Vudu, and Amazon Prime Video, for rent or purchase.]

Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind (1984) 

Hayao Miyazaki's sophomoric feature film, based on his celebrated graphic novel of the same name, was his first breakout hit, and remains one of his greatest and most amazing films. Although it was made one year before the official founding of Studio Ghibli, it set up many of the trademarks that would be seen throughout the rest of Miyazaki's filmography. Ecological-centered themes, here set in a dystopic future of war and destruction where surviving humans are pitted against giant insects. Strong female protagonists (i.e., the titular pacifist princess and "wind warrior"). Fascinating larger-than-life creatures (i.e., fox-squirrels, giant "Ohms"). Deep mythology and engrossing character arcs. Atmospheric sound effects, and music by composer Joe Hisaishi. Incredible attention-to-detail animation. Man's relationship to nature. And, of course, certainly flying (i.e., the film's many stylized and tactile aircrafts).

What also makes Nausicaä distinct are its strong color palettes that reflect certain emotional states of various characters, from rage (red) to peace (blue) and even hope (gold yellow). Plus, its aforementioned themes of social, political, environmental, and ethical morals and issues couldn't be more timely. This is a masterpiece. It's almost hard to believe it was only the foundation of an enduring legacy in animation and cinema.

WRITER'S NOTE: An American dub (and cut) in the mid-1980s, titled Warriors of the Wind, reportedly butchered Miyazaki's film, by severely altering story beats and even advertising elements that had nothing to do with the original version. It wouldn't be until the mid-2000s, following the release of Howl’s Moving Castle (along with the Walt Disney Studio's proper handling of Ghibli's library) that a remastered, uncut edition of Nausicaä was finally released in North America. I, for one, prefer the original Japanese dub, even though the American translation is better than any version with removed or altered elements.

Castle in the Sky (1986) 

Technically the first film released under the Studio Ghibli banner (one year after the company's inception), Hayao Miyazaki's wondrous action-adventure story follows a young girl named Sheeta and a factory boy named Pazu on a journey to find a mysterious city in the clouds, while on the run from a band of quirky air pirates and sinister government agents who seek the magical crystal carried by the girl.

Incredible, intense, funny, beautiful, and awe-inspiring, the eponymous Laputa alone is a sight to behold, giving Cloud City from Star Wars a run for its money. In addition, spiritual imagery of a floating world--supported by composer Joe Hisaishi's evocative score--help make this another transcending experience, and not just exceptional (and worthwhile) "family entertainment."

FUN FACT: References to Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels are fitting, while the giant sentinel robots were reportedly inspired by Max Fleisher's 1941 Superman cartoon, The Mechanical Monsters.

My Neighbor Totoro (1988) 

One of Studio Ghibli's (and director Hayao Miyazaki's) most beloved films. A wonderful, sincere, playful, and even painful rumination on childhood innocence, following two sisters (Satzuki and Mei) who move with their father to the countryside to be near their ailing mother. They soon encounter a world of fantastical, furry forest creatures in their backyard (including the titular Totoro, who has since been the company's official mascot; remember, this was during the same era as other big-screen critters like E.T. and Gizmo). And wait until you see the Cat-Bus!

One of the amazing feats of Miyazaki's work is that he never talked down to his audience, even when his target demographic was children. Totoro presents an ideal world of purity and innocence, with attentive and nurturing parental/adult figures, as well as universal fears, angst, and sadness over potentially losing a loved one. (Again, it's never afraid to tackle more heavy subject matter.) This is a rare film for both young and old--imaginative, whole original, and richly-detailed. And it's not just one of the most unforgettable pieces of animation. It just may be one of the greatest films ever made. 

*Grave of the Fireflies (1988) 

From late Studio Ghibli co-founder (and acclaimed filmmaker in his own right) Isao Takahata comes this harrowing WWII drama about a teenage boy and his younger sister as they struggle to get by in war-torn Japan. As beautiful as it is devastating, everything from the imagery of the titular insects and brutal casualties (some very hard to look at), to themes of loss and economic crises, and Michio Mamiya's profound score, thoroughly breaks your heart. An experience unlike any other, Grave of the Fireflies will leave you speechless.

TRIVIAL FACT #1: Takahata was reportedly the only crew member/animator who lived through the bombings, as depicted in the film.

TRIVIAL FACT #2: Upon its initial release in 1988, this film was double-billed alongside My Neighbor Totoro. 

[*Available on Amazon Prime Video, for rent or purchase.] 

Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989) 

Hayao Miyazaki's coming-of-age story about a 13-year-old girl who journeys out into the world--and into young adulthood--is a wonderful film. The story follows the plucky Kiki as she finds refuge in a small town, and eventually work at a local bakery (hence, the film's title).

It may be hard for more sensitive viewers to get passed the main protagonist being a witch. But it's more on par with The Wizard of Oz than Harry Potter, considering all we see are characters flying on broomsticks, and one or two scenes/references involving potions and fortune telling. It's messages of service and friendships, otherwise, are worthwhile. (Still, some may view the results as a mixed bag.)

The film has incredible art direction, imagining what Europe would ideally resemble had the Second World War never occurred. The cast of characters are terrific and well-rounded, with the titular Kiki struggling to find her place in the world, while the scene-stealing black cat Jiji is a thorough delight. The flying sequences are beautifully animated (with real weight and conflict, including moments with rainstorms and other weather effects), as are scenes featuring Tombo's unique bicycle and the independent Ursula's sketches of Kiki.

TRIVIAL FACT: Miyazaki's next film would continue his signature motif of flight, this time using literal airplanes.