Wednesday, August 31, 2022

REVIEW COLLECTION: The Library of Studio Ghibli, Part 3 (The 2000s)

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

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Spirited Away (2001) 
Hailed by many as the magnum opus of Hayao Miyazaki (and Studio Ghibli, for that matter), Spirited Away may have also single-handedly introduced a majority of Western audiences to the legendary artist/filmmaker's work, and is likely the most remembered and widely seen animé feature in Ghibli's history. 

Miyazaki reportedly made this film for ten-year-old girls (one of them being the daughter of a friend of his), who apparently seemed more interested in modern technology and status than with history or mythology. The film's story (created entirely with storyboards throughout production) follows stubborn ten-year-old Chihiro, as she and her parents stumble upon an abandoned theme park while moving to a new town. When her parents are suddenly turned into pigs, Chihiro is forced to work in an ancient bathhouse, run by the cunning witch Yubaba, and where ancient spirits come for tranquility (including a "Stink Spirit" in a sequence involving a jammed bicycle), in order to get home. 

The various character arcs are compelling, including Chihiro's transition from cowardly to strong-willed and brave, as well as remembering who she is. ("Without your real name," says the heroic Haku, "you'll never find your way home.") The same goes for the mysterious No-Face and Yubaba's giant spoiled baby (great examples of gluttony/greed and eventually peace). Despite elements of animism and violence/cruelty, there are ultimately redemptive, coming-of-age themes in its fantasy setting. 

Thoroughly imaginative, often scary, and wholly original (though it takes a few cues from Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland, L. Frank Baum's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, and Michael Ende's The Neverending Story), it's no surprise that Spirited Away won the Best Animated Feature Academy Award, or that Sight & Sound (in a 2012 poll) and IMDb (in their "Top 250") rank it as the greatest animated film of the 21st Century, and why it's still considered a modern masterpiece. 

The Cat Returns (2002) 
Like Spirited Away before it, this coming-of-age fantasy (adapted from Aoi Hiiragi's original graphic novel, Baron the Cat Baron, written for the screen by Reiko Yoshida) draws some of its inspiration from Alice in Wonderland. A teenage girl named Haru is whisked away into a fascinating but strange world of talking anthropomorphic felines after saving one that turns out to be a prince. Following a series of misunderstandings and twists, things get weirder when Haru herself turns into a cat. 

The Cat Returns is ultimately a story of memory and courage, with the dashing and charismatic Baron to the rescue. The film's swashbuckling adventure recalls the thrills of Hayao Miyazaki's 1979 caper, The Castle of Cagliostro. The timing in the film's action sequences, especially the labyrinth chase, is a bit long, despite being a race-against-the-clock plot, complete with the animation studio's trademark sense of flight. (Stay through the credits for clever art direction and engrossing music.)

Furthermore, this is the first and only time that Ghibli made a sequel-/prequel-/spinoff-of-sorts to one of their previous films (in this case, their underappreciated 1995 film, Whisper of the Heart), promoting the supporting Baron (one of the studio's best characters) into more of a leading role. Miyazaki considered doing something similar with one of his subsequent features, but not before adapting another popular children's fantasy series. 

Howl’s Moving Castle (2004) 
Hayao Miyazaki's adaptation of Diane Wynne Jones's children's fantasy novel is another highly imaginative experience. The story follows a young shop girl, named Sophie, who is cursed by a jealous witch after the now-90-year-old woman meets the mysterious and charismatic wizard Howl. 

Made during a period when the world was at war, Miyazaki used that same backdrop for his cast of colorful characters (including the pantomime scarecrow Turnip, the sly-but-flawed Witch of the Waste, and the anthropomorphic fire demon Calcifer), some of whom go from idle to hard-working and determined, particularly Sophie as she journeys to rid herself of the Witch's curse. 

Along the way, we get sweeping views of the countryside and immersive doorways to different realms. And then there are delightful cooking scenes, where you can almost feel the grease and steam (which goes to show how brilliant Japanese animators are with food). Sophie's transitions between different ages throughout the film are subtle but thematically challenging and visceral. As for the titular fortress (a combination of 2D and 3D effects), it flies in the same realm as Laputa, and also maybe Kiki (if only at a distance). It's a set piece to behold.

On the other hand, while Mononoke and Spirited Away dipped their toes into dark spirituality, Howl’s Moving Castle embraces its own deep brand of mysticism and sorcery. Regarding Calcifer, it's a question of whether this otherwise intriguing element (sort of recalling C.S. Lewis's The Screwtape Letters) sugarcoats demonology or at least appears tamer than it actually is. (Something to think and/or talk about.) 

TRIVIAL FACT: For Miyazaki's next film, he insisted on zero CGI and, instead, on traditional hand-drawn techniques, through and through. Talk about making a splash--if you catch my drift. 

Tales From Earthsea (2006) 
Adapted from Ursula K. Le Guin's fantasy book series, Tales From Earthsea is largely considered to be the least of all of Ghibli's films. As the directorial debut of Goro Miyazaki (son of Hayao), the bleak and convoluted story (which apparently borrows elements from Nausicaä and Princess Mononoke) centers around the journeys of young prince Arren, princess Theru, and ancient warrior Sparrowhawk, during a present conflict between numerous spirits and tribes, and a time when mankind and dragons once lived in unity. 

Other themes and elements involve slavery, mysterious plagues, fallen kingdoms, and Eastern worldviews of "eternal life" and facing Death itself. With that in mind, Earthsea is also one of the scariest and most violent entries in Ghibli's filmography, trailing Mononoke by that much. Its main culprits are some disturbing and frightening images of blood and grotesque faces, particularly the villainous Cob. There is, however, a bittersweet and beautiful song over the end credits, as well as some amazing scenery to look at.

TRIVIAL FACT: Goro Miyazaki would escape this inaugural slump (and semi-autobiography?) with his next feature, this time focusing on a compelling coming-of-age story. 

Ponyo (2008) 
Hayao Miyazaki's gorgeous and charming fantasy adventure--a rather simple story about a little fish who longs to be human, and her friendship with a young boy--is the director's first film since My Neighbor Totoro made specifically for children (and his first "all-ages" feature since Kiki twenty years prior). But that doesn't mean adults won't find it just as (if not more) enthralling and beautiful. 

Drawing inspiration from Hans Christian Andersen's The Little MermaidPonyo presents its own original spin with themes of unconditional love and spirituality. It also features dynamic characters like Ponyo's sorcerer father and goddess mother, and the nursing home seniors that 5-year-old Sosuke (very mature for his age) and his mother regularly visit. 

The animation (none of which was CGI) is very expressionistic and lovely, if at times strange. The first five minutes, featuring the adorable protagonist riding atop jellyfish, are practically dialogue-free. (I wonder if they would've made the whole film that way.) But it's the film's water effects that are the most captivating (this was only eight years before Disney made Moana), especially when Ponyo runs across a tsunami of water-fish. Jaw-dropping. Even the character's metamorphosis throughout the film has something in common with fellow visionary auteur Guillermo del Toro. 

Ponyo showcases Miyazaki's mastery of childhood innocence, mature themes (moments involving the main seaside town under water), boundless imagination, fantastical creatures, and engrossing storytelling. It'll fill you with joy. 

TRIVIAL FACT #1: Perhaps it's not surprising that the American dub was translated by E.T. screenwriter Melissa Mathison, as Ponyo shares similarities with that Steven Spielberg classic. Even Spielberg regulars Kathleen Kennedy & Frank Marshall served as producers for the English version. 

TRIVIAL FACT #2: This was a rare occasion where Miyazaki was very much interested in making a sequel to one of his films. But longtime producing partner Toshio Suzuki convinced him to adapt a Tatsuo Hori novel instead. 

Thursday, August 11, 2022

REVIEW: "Nope" (2022)


Jordan Peele's third directorial feature is a real genre-bender. As he did with his 2019 film, Us, the former Comedy Central alum seamlessly blends sci-fi, comedy, and even western with his trademark brand of horror that's been uniquely bold, provocative, and socially-conscious since his 2017 debut, Get Out

Many have theorized Nope to be an acronym for "Not Of Planet Earth," based on spoiler-free, cryptic marketing, since the film's plot involves a pair of siblings who hope to capture footage of possible UFOs in their area. But is it an alien invasion, or something else? 

Peele claims his film is a commentary on humanity's toxic relationship with spectacle and media, as well as obsession with celebrity. Nowhere is this better illustrated than through a tragic (and shocking) subplot involving, of all things, a sitcom-starring chimpanzee and the effects of those events. At the same time, a family of Hollywood horse trainers (descendants of a colored jockey in, supposedly, the first-ever motion picture clip) represent--and shed light on--untold stories in the history of cinema, further represented in various ethnicities and identities of the supporting cast (Daniel Kaluuya's horse trainer OJ Haywood, Keke Palmer's sister Emerald, Brandon Perea's Hispanic Fry's Electronics employee Angel Torres, and Steven Yeun's Asian-American child-star-turned-amusement-park-owner Ricky "Jupe" Park). 

Because the story involves scope and scale, Nope benefits from jaw-dropping IMAX cinematography by Christopher Nolan regular Hoyte Van Hoytema (who shot on rarely-used Kodak 65mm film). The sound design is a combination of mystery, silence, and dread; ditto the intriguing chapter titles, and some frightening imagery that resembles theater screens, camera lenses, carnival slides, and projectors. The aforementioned theme park, Juniper's Claim, has already become a feature attraction at Universal Studios; the tone of this very set recalls the Bates Motel from Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho. And speaking of movies, there's a poster of the 1970s western, Buck and the Preacher (starring Sidney Poitier and Harry Belafonte), in the background of one scene. 


Getting back to the film's title, it could mean turning away from impending doom ("Yeah, yeah, nah, nah"), or a lack of explanation. Characters spew references to "the little guys with the big eyes" (illustrated in visuals of creepy figurines) or "the Viewers" (hmm), not to mention a new twist on Sheb Wooley's classic 1950s song, "The Purple-People Eater." 

Other themes include missed opportunities; complicated family relationships (and relationships in general, including signals); invasion of privacy (so to speak); and the cost of pursuing the impossible (recalling Steven Spielberg's Close Encounters and Jaws), with one character taking it too far by profiting off of past trauma. Michael Wincott's cameraman Antlers Holst perhaps says it best: "This dream you're chasing--where you end up at the top of the mountain--it's the dream you never wake up from." 

Ironic as it is, Peele really knows how to make an event film, and then subvert our expectations. Viewers will either respond, "Yeah," "What," or simply, "Nope". Equally ironic, the film carries this sense of, "We want to look away, but we can't" (with at least one massive jump scare, and another sequence that gives the bathroom scene from 2017's It a run for its money). Or maybe there's more to this film than we think. As I said, Peele really knows how to make a socially-conscious piece of cinema, which no one should say no to.