Tuesday, July 12, 2022

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 WavesWhisper 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 FirefliesKiki'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. 

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