After Studio Ghibli

New Animation to watch that will scratch that Ghibli itch.

What do you think of when you think of Studio Ghibli? Most Ghibli movies have gorgeous animation, a deep basis in humanism, and a trust in the audience to dig through the layers of meaning. If there is an overriding theme throughout most Ghibli films it is in the Paul Valéry quote that opens The Wind Rises. “The wind is rising! . . . We must try to live!”. In other words, whatever is happening in our worlds, we must hold onto our basic humanity and build community.  

This might make one mistakenly believe all Ghibli films are alike, yet despite their similarities they are also very different. Princess Mononoke is quite different than Only Yesterday which is very different than Ponyo. 

This is why I have decided that instead of naming a slew of beautiful character driven animations I would pair each individual Ghibli film with another animated movie or television project it shares attributes with.  

Full reviews of each of these movies are planned for future editions of this newsletter, but this being a recommendation post I will be giving a limited basic overview without spoilers.    

I paired Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind with Scavenger's Reign.

Still from Scavengers Reign.

It is frustrating that Scavenger’s Reign has been so difficult to find where I live in Canada, and after a brief run on HBO Max and then in some places (buried on) Netflix it seems unlikely to secure a second season.  Like Nausicaä, Scavenger’s Reign takes place on a strange world where people struggle to survive in a desolate wasteland. It also shares a visual aesthetic largely inspired by the art of Moebius and an exploration of a world which feels alien. Unlike Nausicaä, Scavenger’s Reign is much more adult, with Cronenbergian body horror and shocking moments of violence. Amalgamating intelligent character driven science fiction with unique world building, Scavenger’s Reign is a must see for fans of thoughtful science fiction. 

I paired Castle in the Sky with Future Boy Conan. 

Still from Future Boy Conan.

Hayao Miyazaki was formed in television animation and his earlier sensibilities were in comedic action-oriented fare like Lupin III and Sherlock Hound. His first project where he had complete autonomy over the story and production – and one that would be a Rosetta stone for his career – is the exhilarating Future Boy Conan. An environmental parable (check) centered around a friendship between children (check) with imaginative world building (check), Future Boy Conan shares a humor and adventurous spirit most present in Castle in the Sky.  It is a 1979 anime made on a smaller budget in a quick time frame so it does have more limited animation, but compare it to other anime from the era and Miyazaki’s talent is completely evident.  

 I paired My Neighbor Totoro with Over The Garden Wall. 

Still from Over the Garden Wall.

Two siblings enter into a magical world full of enchanting creatures. There is a very slight sense of danger but that is balanced by an environment which is lush and a pace which is leisurely and cozy.  The sense of death or illness is more pronounced in Over The Garden Wall so it might be better for school age children rather than preschoolers (The illness of the mother in Totoro is such a small aspect of the plot that most children would not be concerned about it, but it’s good fodder for Totoro think-pieces). Over the Garden Wall has recently celebrated its 10th anniversary so now is as good a time as any to check out this beguiling show.  

 I paired Grave of the Fireflies with Barefoot Gen. 

Still from Barefoot Gen.

 The most common comment about these movies are how upsetting they are and how people will only watch them once. They are relentlessly sad movies, but both are about much more than misery. 

 Both movies are partly about what happens to a community when a tragedy happens. In the case of Graves of the Fireflies the firebombing of Kobe, and in the case of Barefoot Gen the atomic bombing of Hiroshima.  

They are both upsetting movies that do not pull punches. Barefoot Gen takes it’s time exploring the characters and family dynamic before getting to the harrowing bombing scene, and then exploring the effects of radiation poisoning afterwards. It’s more cartoonish 80’s anime style is incongruent with the horrific story. The sequel takes place 3 years after the bombing and concentrates on the recovery. If you are interested in a triple bill the excellent more methodical “In this Corner of the World” is also very powerful. 

 I paired Kiki’s Delivery Service with Keep Your Hands off Eizouken! 

Still from Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken!

"Keep Your Hands off Eizouken" is about 3 girls who meet and start a club at their school to make anime. The reason the show works so well is how defined and charismatic the three leads are. There’s exuberant Midori Asakusa, sly and down to earth Sayaka Kanamori (my favorite character b.t.w), and the outgoing Tsubame Mizusaki. All three are fully fleshed out appealing characters. It's about these different people coming together to create an animation and get it shown in a local film festival. Tonally it has overlap with Kiki’s Delivery Service, especially with the charming lead and the focus on community and developing your passion. 

I paired Only Yesterday with Mai Mai Miracle 

Still from Mai Mai Miracle

On paper neither of these movies have a lot of dramatic incidents happen in them and they both take their time exploring their characters. These are the sorts of movies you can luxuriate in their quiet, purposeful gentleness. Both have a burgeoning friendship at the center and a theme of looking at the past to find meaning in the present. In Only Yesterday, Taeko Okajima remembers her childhood and this past remembrance informs her personality in the current time. In Mai Mai Miracle, Shinko Aoki imagines a princess living in the same village a thousand years ago, and this becomes subtext in her story. Mai Mai Miracle does explore some plottier and darker storylines in its third act which feels disruptive and in my opinion jarring, but this is a slight complaint in on otherwise pleasurable film.  

I paired Porco Rosso with Odd Taxi. 

Still from Odd Taxi

There are no other movies quite like Porco Rosso, and there are also no other television shows quite like Odd Taxi. Porco Rosso takes place in a Casablanca coded world about a man cursed with the head of a pig. It is a combination of glorious cartoon dogfights (and fist fights) and a mature symbolic representation of survivor’s guilt. Odd Taxi is what would happen if Jim Jarmusch directed Zootopia. Both are strangest when they are at their most low key. Odd Taxi is a deadpan murder mystery that is also a normcore drama centered around a dozen or so characters. If you have patience, it will engross you and it has a truly satisfying arc. My advice would be to avoid the Odd Taxi movie which is not at the same quality as the show.     

I paired Ocean Waves with Liz and the Blue Bird 

Still from Liz and The Blue Bird

There are 2 ways I judge slice of life movies about friendship. Do I feel like the 2 people involved genuinely care about each other, and are they likeable enough that I care about their stories? In the case of Liz and the Blue Bird the answer is yes to both. Ocean Waves fails both these tests. 

The great Naoko Yamada wrote and directed Liz and the Blue Bird. Her choice to ground the movie and concentrate it on two characters is key to this movie working. It's about that moment where two best friends are separating after high school, but they get to play one final concert together. It's about letting go of someone you love to move on in life. Ocean Waves explores this same part of life as you enter college, and some scenes are effective especially when exploring the (queer coded?) friendship between Taku and Yutaka, but for me the love triangle plot with Rikako does not work. I know Ocean Waves has its defenders, but I would much rather hang out with the fun gang in Liz and the Blue Bird than the unlikeable protagonists in Ocean Waves. 

I paired Pom Poko with Mushishi 

Still from Mushishi.

Mushishi is a very gentle show about Mushi. My simplistic take on mushi is that it is the spirit in all things. A mountain has mushi, clouds have mushi, etc. It's a show about a man who must solve mysteries when those spirits are somehow disturbed. It sounds like it could be creepy or scary but it is a completely serene show. It’s like the X Files on quaaludes. 

Tonally it is very different than Pom Poko, which sometimes feels overloaded with ALL THE IDEAS despite its structured framework. What Pom Poko and Mushishi have in common is their willingness to be bizarre and to deep dive into Japanese folklore. Both narratives also share a repetitive wandering narrative, the difference being Mushishi is a television show and Pom Poko is one episodic movie. It might seem I am critical of Pom Poko. I do feel that its inherent messiness and repetitive structure is purposeful to achieve its tone, and the conclusion is quite powerful. It’s lack of obvious structure does make it feel aimless the first time through.       

I paired Whisper of the Heart with Bocchi the Rock  

Still from Bocchi the Rock!

To take the moment to find your creative self in adolescence and the requirement of a supportive community is the core of both Whisper of the Heart and Bocchi the Rock. In Whisper, Shizuku is a middle schooler who decides she wants to try writing fiction, and through the friendship of an aspiring violin maker (and romantic interest) and an elderly antique shop owner she learns lessons about honing her talent. In Bocchi the Rock, Bocchi is a superstar online for her music but her extreme social anxiety makes her a shut in. The idea of talking to someone shuts her down. However, she makes friends and joins a band. The season is about whether she will be able to play onstage and how her friendships allow her to find happiness.  

What I loved about both is the immediate acceptance of Shizuku or Boccho, and there is no obvious antagonist (other than social anxiety or self-doubt). It would have been easy to give them a foil or bully character. Instead, they are stories about how everyone benefits when we honor the differences in people.  

 

I paired Princess Mononoke with Sword of the Stranger 

Still from Sword of the Stranger.

Princess Mononoke was meant to be Hayao Miyazaki’s final opus, and it feels like a person expunging all his anger, fear, and ambition into one project. Easily his most violent film, Mononoke is made from a man distraught at the state of the world, a complex environmental parable which also happens to have a ton of electrifying action and innovative mythmaking.   

Sword of the Stranger is a far more straightforward bloody samurai film. The story is less ambitious and can get mired in some cliché plotting, but the action is dynamic and the direction is masterful. It is heavily indebted to Lone Wolf and Cub and other Ronin fables. While it may lack the depth or the mythmaking magic of Princess Mononoke, Sword of the Stranger deserves more attention as an action anime. 

I paired My Neighbors the Yamadas with Chie the Brat. 

Still from Chie the Brat.

Hayao Miyazaki never made a bad film, but the under-sung Isao Takahata never made an uninteresting one. Takahata, who couldn’t draw himself, was always experimenting with different structures and art styles. The Yamadas is technically the first completely digital Ghibli film, although Takahata uses the technology to complete a watercolor cartoon strip style look. It’s based on a long running comic strip and told in short vignettes. Some of these vignettes are as short as a minute and some run 5 to 10 minutes. The vignettes often end in a joke, which range from groan worthy to slightly humorous. Streaming has been kind to the Yamadas, as I can pop in, watch 15 minutes, and then pop out. Some of the segments are just comfortable food. 

18 years before My Neighbor the Yamadas, Takahata had created a richer and more idiosyncratic movie and television show, Chie the Brat. What I feel is better in Chie the Brat is the variety of characters and the oddball darker humor. The characters feel much more current than in Yamadas, which suffers from a conservatism surprising from Takahata. The gender roles and basic tropes in Yamadas would be commonplace in 1950s sitcoms or comic strips. Chie the Brat is a natural extension of 1970’s counterculture while still being a family-oriented wacky sitcom. 9-year-old Chie lives on skid row cooking at her family restaurant for the local lowlifes, meanwhile her well-meaning but screw up unemployed Yakuza father is a daily embarrassment for her. It’s wonderfully odd.  

I paired Spirited Away with A Letter to Momo 

Still from A Letter to Momo.

In one movie a young girl enters into a magical world, and in the other a magical world enters into a young girl's world. Both have fascinating imaginative creatures. Both have a healthy mix of heart and adventure. A Letter to Momo is a minor film when compared to Spirited Away (what isn’t?), but it is a coming-of-age film that seamlessly blends whimsy with pathos. Both are movie about responsibility that are also very pleasurable fish out of water family films. In Momo, the fish out of water are three Yokai (basically Japanese monsters) who visit 11-year-old Momo who is mourning her father. Momo must learn how to return them to their world while they go on many adventures along the way, all the while she regains her courage and strength. 

Both are offbeat and have a lot of adventure and comedy. One is in the conversation for greatest animated film of all time, and the other is merely fantastic. Both movies do get upsetting in parts so I would keep younger kids away.  

 I paired The Cat Returns with Ranking of Kings 

Still from Ranking of Kings.

The Cat Returns is often considered lower tier Ghibli because it lacks the complexities and subtexts of other films. This is fair as it has modest goals to entertain and have fun characters who go on a whimsical low stakes adventure and, then it’s over. It has a sarcastic cat, a swashbuckling cat, a cat parade, and a cat castle. I’m... not sure what else you want. 75 minutes of smiles.  

Ranking of Kings has higher narrative goals, but is no less charming. Much of that charm rests on the main character, Bojji. After his father (who is a giant) dies Bojji is next in line for the throne, but no one respects Bojji because of his small stature and being deaf and mute (the show has been rewarded for its positive portrayal of Bojji and is anything but ableist, although many of the characters are disrespectful towards Bojji). Many factors - including other kingdoms - conspire against him. By his side is the last member off the shadows (the character resembles a flat black pancake) who is the first to recognize Bojji's bravery. It's a G rated Game of Thrones and gets more and more complex as the show develops. Both The Cat Returns and Ranking of Kings are complete comfort.  

 I paired Howl’s Moving Castle with The Fabulous Baron Munchausen.  

Still from The Fabulous Baron Munchausen.

There is a scene in Howl’s Moving Castle where Howl is ill in his bedroom, and the bedroom is overflowing with moving gemstones and trinkets. Aesthetically the scene is so full of romantic opulence that it reminded me of Karel Zeman’s magnificent The Fabulous Baron Munchausen. Right down to its immaculate waltz Howl’s Moving Castle is Miyazaki’s most romantic film in the classical meaning. The two films might not be obvious bedfellows except for their imagination, flexibility toward narrative structure, and their sumptuousness.  

Modern viewers may find Zeman’s pacing tedious. I suggest watching when you feel like bathing in strangeness and spectacle. In his introduction to the film Terry Gilliam suggests the imagery mirrors the imagery of children’s literature and is resonance of childhood. I believe this theatricality is true for both movies, as their grandiosity and whimsy and pure extravaganza take us somewhere sublime.  

 I paired Tales of Earthsea with The Legend of Hei 

Still from The Legend of Hei.

 I’m not here to defend Hayao Miyazaki as a father, but all I’m saying is that when Hayao left his son Goro’s first screening of his film Tales of Earthsea to take a smoke break in the middle of it due to exasperation, I understood. I’m not sure I would have said “I saw my own child. He hasn’t become an adult. That’s all.”, but I do agree with his criticism “It feels like I was sitting there for about three hours.” 

I’m being a little cheeky, and critics of Tales of Earthsea would make you think that it’s a complete failure, and it isn’t. It would be impossible to make a complete failure working with experienced Ghibli animators, and Earthsea does have its charms, especially individual scenes, a rousing soundtrack, and pieces of animation. The problem is the leaden, uneven storytelling and the confusing actions of unlikeable characters.      

The opposite is true for The Legend of Hei, a movie that effortlessly creates a mythology and a blend of a fantasy world with contemporary settings. The characters are charming and the action is visceral without being too violent (kids that can handle Kung Fu Panda could handle this). The animation is not as fluid as most Ghibli films, however they save a lot of the best animation for the dynamic action. The closest comparison I can make in terms of vibes is the TV show Avatar the last Airbender. In the end you will want to see more of these characters and this world and thankfully they are making a sequel. 

I paired Ponyo with Wolf Children 

Still from Wolf Children.

For being such a curmudgeon, one thing that is obvious about Hayao Miyazaki is that he loves and understands children. For those that think Ponyo is nonsensical or narratively jarring, watch it with a kid. They will be entranced and understand the friendship between Ponyo and Sosuke. Only in Miyazaki’s filmography could Ponyo be considered a minor work.  

Both Ponyo with Wolf Children use magical children as a way to mirror feelings of difference.   

Wolf Children is aimed at older children, but also about the feelings children might have who feel different than their peers. Director Mamoru Hosoda said he wanted to make a movie about the sacrifices of parenthood. After falling in love with a Wolfman in college Hana has a young child and becomes a single mother. The children turn out to be wolf children and Hana must learn how to raise them. The movie follows them as children and then as adolescents where Hana must decide her role in her unique family. Hosoda said he made it as a tribute to a single mother he knows raising a neurodivergent child, and the movie makes sense with this as context. I do feel that the middle act is so strong that the melodramatic climax feels forced, however that’s a minor quibble.  

I paired From Up on Poppy Hill with Kids on the Slope. 

Still from Kids on the Slope.

From Up on Poppy Hill and Kids on the Slope are both blends of “coming of age teen romances” with “the gang comes together to complete a task” films. In Up on Poppy Hill peppy and responsible Umi develops a relationship with rebellious Shun, and together they attempt to revitalize their delipidated club house to save it from destruction. In Kids on the Slope shy nebbish Kaoru becomes frenemies with brutish Sentarō when they discover a love of jazz music and form a band, playing in the basement of the music store owned by the father of Kaoro’s crush Ritsuko. When Yurika joins the cast, the romantic plotting threatens to overtake the story, but luckily Kids on the Slope stays on the right side of melodrama thanks to its nuanced and grounded characters. 

In both cases the romantic plot is less interesting and unique than the “gang comes together” plot. In Poppy Hill the plot point that keeps the characters separated is... awkward, but that is likely due to cultural differences, especially since the movie takes place in 1963. Both films taking place in the 1960s also reflects a conservativism and glorification of the past. Still, despite some small reservations these are completely enjoyable animations with charismatic engrossing characters.    

I paired The Wind Rises with Miss Hokusai 

Still from Miss Hokusai.

The Wind Rises and Miss Hokusai are both historical biographies which take many liberties with the stories. I would not trust the historical accuracy of either film. The Wind Rises tells the story of aeronautical engineer Jiro Horikoshi, and Miss Hokusai tells the story of Katsushika Oi. daughter and assistant to famed artist Katsushika Hokusai. Both examine the role of the creator and philosophies regarding where the creative spirit comes from, in addition to portraying dramatic stories from their respective historical periods.  

 While the Wind Rises is grounded except for a few dream sequences, Miss Hokusai is told with a plethora of metaphor and symbolism that trace back to artworks by Katsushika Hokusai. Miss Hokusai’s episodic nature also sometimes feels disjointed thematically and narratively, but the independent parts are so strong that I didn’t mind. I found the central relationship between her and her young sister in Miss Hokusai more resonant than the romance between Jiro and Nahako in The Wind Rises. Although the individual scenes of their courting are stunningly realized (they have a tremendous meet cute) I wish Nahako had more of a personality separated from her relationship to Jiro.  

 Both movies are thoughtful examinations on what it means to be a creative person in a broken world.   

 I paired Tale of the Princess Kaguya with The Girl Without Hands 

Still from The Girl Without Hands.

These movies are both based on Folklore. Kaguya is based on a 10th century story, and The Girl Without Hands is based on a Grimm Fairy Tale. They are somber melancholic films. They also are both animated hypnotically with a minimal aesthetic. They look like no other films. Kaguya is much softer, almost like watercolor or traditional ink brush (director Takahata wanted to capture the immediacy of the sketchy storyboards) and The Girl Without Hands is minimal in its line work but brasher in color and gesture. The effect of both is a sense of impermanence. The image washes out at the edges of Kaguya, and literally disappears into a brushstroke in The Girl Without Hands. 

Kaguya is a quieter movie overall and The Girl Without Hands has a few shocking moments of violence. They are tonally very different yet each questions mortality, fate and the historical autonomy of women.  

I paired When Marnie was There with The Case of Hana and Alice 

Still from The Case of Hana and Alice.

There are some unique aspects to When Marnie Was There which separate it from other Ghibli films. Most notably the lead character Anna is unlike all other Ghibli girls. Anna has severe social anxiety and lashes out rudely and aggressively at several points. When Marnie was there also discusses social issues like child abuse, depression, and the need to feel loved. It’s also a ghost story and I’m not sure it completely sticks the landing in the third act, but it is a solid young adult story.  

The Case of Hana and Alice is a slice of life movie also about a shut-in girl who makes a friendship and they go on an adventure together. I prefer the low-key slice of life movies and The Case of Hana and Alice is a more grounded picture than Marnie. The movie Hana and Alice is notable for the pleasant naturalistic performances. It is a mystery film (like Nancy Drew) but the real reason to watch is the burgeoning friendship story between two likeable leads. The use of rotoscoping blended with the amplified neon bright colours is radiant. The use of rotoscoping was done due to being a prequel of a live action film and this way they could easily age down the actresses to play themselves. This one is a real jewel of a movie.  

I paired The Red Turtle with Angel’s Egg 

Still from Angel’s Egg

The Red Turtle is the only movie produced by Studio Ghibli not directed by a Japanese director or studio. After viewing Michaël Dudok de Wit’s Oscar winning short Mother and Daughter, Ghibli approached DeWit to make a feature film. The result is a dialogue-free, lush, hallucinogenic parable that switches from a castaway story to metaphorical fable.  

The meaning behind Angel's Egg is even more obtuse. Director Mamoru Oshii often likes to bury philosophical or political discussions in his works (like Ghost in the Shell or Patlabor), but in those movies the narrative comes first. Angel's Egg is unconcerned with its narrative and instead is basically a tone poem. There are archetypes of Christian imagery and science fiction imagery throughout, but the meaning is left open. 

You could discuss themes of birth and religion and mortality in either works and there is a richness of theme to be enjoyed. You could also merely enjoy the stunning animation as a meditation. Stunning works.  

I paired Earwig and the Witch with My life as a Courgette 

Still from My Life as a Courgette

For the most part I am thinking of these pairings as possible double headers. With this pairing it is more “instead of”, as Earwig is the only Ghibli project I would consider as without merit. Even the most lifeless Ghibli projects at least have the animation and some key scenes to fall back on. Goro Miyazaki replaces the previous worst Ghibli film, Tales of Earthsea (which he directed), with this lifeless dud.  

The far more imaginative and delightful My Life as a Courgette (Also known as My Life as a Zucchini) is the opposite as the dour Earwig. The film is about a boy named Zucchini who is sent to an orphanage after accidently killing his alcoholic mother (which happens offscreen through sound effects). It is a unique stop motion film. Zucchini looks cute but also sickly which mirrors the tonal balance of the movie. The movie is actually quite sweet and the characters endearing, yet it also maintains an edge of darkness. It is just over an hour and you will feel like you have seen a movie that is distinctive and endearing. 

I paired The Boy and the Heron with Song of the Sea. 

Still from Song of the Sea.

The loss of a parent happens in so many children’s movies that it’s more surprising when the parents survive the first act. Normally this is merely an inciting incident that emotionally connects the audience to the protagonist but is largely abandoned once the adventure begins. What unites Boy and the Heron and Song of the Sea is the depth that the loss is felt throughout the entire movie. The devastation is not subtext but instead text, and both movies examine how this loss affects all other relationships. There is a melancholy to both pieces and the juxtaposition of loss and growth approaches the sublime. The three movies that make up the Irish Trilogy series by Cartoon Saloon feel the most analogous to Studio Ghibli movies. Both studios produce adventurous, thoughtful, immersive, humanistic films that feel specific to their individual cultures while connecting to a common experience. 

Next week I will start a 4 part series that examines the Best Animated Feature award at the Oscars. “The Alternative World Animated Oscars Goes to pt. 1” will look at the Oscar years 2001 to 2006 and ask what would be nominated and what would win if I could choose (hint, there’s a lot more Satoshi Kon represented). It’s a little cheeky but I hope people find some new favorite animated films through the process.