AAA - Spirited Away

So, we've covered Howl's Moving Castle, now onto what is undoubtedly Miyazaki's best film. It is not my favorite film of his, but I can objectively step back and see that it really is his best. It's hard to explain. It stole the first Academy Award for an animated film out under the nose of Disney, it was Japan's favorite movie, and yet a lot of people I've talked to about it want to know, Why?

The movie centers around Chihiro, a somewhat spoiled and lazy 10-year-old girl. Chihiro and her parents are moving to a new home and Chihiro is naturally upset. Her parents are unfortunately not too sympathetic but then, Miyazaki has his reasons for this I've found. On the way they get lost and end up in what they assume to be an abandoned theme park. Lured into the theme park by the smell of what I assume is enchanted food, Chihiro's parents decide to gorge themselves and, in what is some of the most shocking animation I've ever seen transform into pigs.
And so Chihiro is trapped alone in what she soon learns is the spirit world or something like that. Humans don't belong and aren't safe here, but Chihiro is helped by Haku, a mysterious boy who works as an apprentice for the sorceress Yubaba. Chihiro's only hope to rescue her parents and escape is to find work at the bath house Yubaba runs, where spirits come to rest and rejuvinate.


Sure, it's bizarre, but no more so than your average Grimm's fairy tale, which is how I soon decided to approach this. Chihiro must overcome a number of formidable tasks and obstacles on her quest to return home. The great thing is that Chihiro is just a normal 10-year-old girl. She's not some Disney princess or teen pop icon, saving the world while going out with Ken and touching up her mascara. :-) Her clothes are a little baggy on her, she stumbles and is clumsy, she's timid and unsure of herself, but she's also good-natured and friendly and in true Miyazaki fashion ten times more"real" than most of the movie biz' creations. Here is someone that kids might actually be able to identify with perhaps.

Miyazaki puts all his usual devices into play. Large black shadowy figures (he almost always has them, think of the chase scene I posted of Howl's Moving Castle, there's one in Princess Mononoke too, and Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind), older women (don't ask me, but he has these characters a lot), young female protagonists, a flying scene, they're all there. And of course that amazing, wonderful attention to detail. Chihiro takes the time to wiggle her foot into her shoes when putting them on, we can feel the weight of the coal she has to carry and smell the stench of the stink spirit all because of small details and expressions. All of these add up to a wonderful sense of artistry and storytelling, but that's not the be all and end all of a creative work.

I read a "Christian" review of Spirited Away and it kind of ticked me off to be frank with you. It called Spirited Away "slickly packaged pantheism," which pretty much sums up the tone of the whole review. Well... sure, there are river gods and radish spirits and wood spirits and whatever else. I guess that is pantheism. But what the review was insinuating was that Miyazaki's goal is to brain wash people into going out and bowing down to the nearest tree. Well, if you have a problem with river gods, you'd better throw out your C.S. Lewis, that's all I'll say. I'm not saying the movie is entirely appropriate for children or that it has the same Christian themes Lewis employs. Hardly. But the emphasis here is on the importance of hard work, friendship, inner potential, growth. I particularly appreciate the hard work part. Chihiro struggles through a number of unpleasant and grueling tasks, but each and every one shows the rewards of simply gritting your teeth and tackling something. These are good values. As a Christian, I place great value on Christian works that are sources of wisdom for my life. But, I also place great worth on other things. I'm not saying I approach Spirited Away the same way I would approach the Chronicles of Narnia. For myself as a Christian, Spirited Away does not hold the same tapestry of richly woven truths that reflect my Christian condition as Chronicles of Narnia. But it does hold truths, and of course that's the ultimate test of a movie or book or whatever in my opinion.

While Spirited Away may not be my favorite Miyazaki movie, it does have some of my favorite scenes ever! After Chihiro first meets Haku, he tells her she must find the boiler room and ask someone named "Kamaji" for work. The way to the boiler room lies along a steep rickety staircase on the outside of the bath house. Chihiro edges her way down it, first sliding from step to step, then gradually getting braver and standing. Just as we think she's got it, the step breaks and Chihiro is propelled, screaming, to the bottom of the staircase where she stops abruptly, flattened by the wall. Not much happens, but the way this is executed is brilliant.


Kamaji, who is one of my favorite characters of all time, turns out to be an old man with something like six arms, which he employs in heating the baths above. He has enchanted the soot in the room to carry coal for him. The soot creatures can't speak, but it doesn't take away from their personality. I would like one for a pet.

And of course there's the obligitory flying scene, in which Chihiro rides on a dragon. These scenes stay with you.

But my favorite by far is when Chihiro takes the train. That's the scene I'm posting here. It's a shame you have to see it this way, but better here than not at all. If you ever do see the movie, the fact that you've already seen this may ruin it for you. It's not a key plot point, there's virtually no dialogue, but at the same time it's not overdone or trying to be artsy.

In Other News

In case you're wondering what's really going on in these parts, my brother and sister-in-law have officially moved in to Great Uncle Ed's old place. They had a house-warming party today and they've really done wonders to the interior.

I remember visiting the place about twice a year in my childhood. Once on Halloween, when I would receive buckets of candy from all my relatives in the country because they had no one else to give it to, and at Christmas when we would borrow the axe from Ed before going to chop down our Christmas tree. By that time Ed was getting up in years, so the only impression I ever had of him was of an older man who stooped and hobbled along on rather long, bandy Olson legs. I loved Uncle Ed.

It was always a somewhat surreal experience. Uncle Ed was a bachelor his whole life and not exactly an expert on interior decor. The back room was always full of stacks of beer bottles, of which Ed would always offer my dad one. This was the only time I ever saw my dad drink beer, and it was a little shocking (gasp!) but I knew it was okay because it was with Ed. Then we would move to the dining room where Uncle Ed would reminisce in a barely audible voice while you would try to shout back answers when he asked you anything because he was so hard of hearing from all those years on farm machinery. I loved Uncle Ed.

I always thought the dining room was the ugliest room I had ever seen. It's white walls and gold-spattered white floor were almost blinding and reminded me of the school cafeteria. The furniture looked like it belonged in a poorly funded futuristic sci-fi movie. The chairs in particular were so hideous that even at the tender age of seven it felt weird just to sit on one.

Uncle Ed had a different way of doing things. He was probably the most practical man you'd ever meet. He used to have, I'm told, a beautiful solid oak table that adorned the dining room. But he threw it over a cliff because "it wobbled." My relatives have never completely forgiven that. So you can imagine what kind of a state the house was in when my brother and Jenny decided to buy it from Uncle Jon (or however we're related, I'm not sure), who had inherited it.

Since I'm basically a generation in and of myself, I've sort of watched the older generation pass on. It's kind of sad. Uncle Ed was the last of "the brothers" of my grandfather's generation. With them has gone, it seems, the whole concept of the family farm and my family's livelihood for the past four generations. But we're Swedish, so we shrug it off. These things happen. It's the farmer's mantra.

At the same time, I personally don't think farming in any form is the life for me. I know what it is and it's not fun. You have to have that special connection to it, or you won't last long. And it was fulfilling to see the old house passed on to Eric and Jenny, ready for a whole new generation of Olsons. There's enough of the family up there, I think they should try to be an independent state. I don't know if they will keep the house, it's in pretty bad shape. But what they have done with it so far, while they save their money for perhaps something better, is amazing. The relatives and the community seem to approve. And Uncle Jon was happy he didn't have to sell it to "some Jerkwater" who would put up a lot of fences and make it difficult to move machinery.

An Uncomprehensive Analysis

Jules Feiffer is wise. Now, I know next to nothing about Mr. Feiffer. I don't know where he grew up, went to school, or whether or not he likes cheese pizza. I haven't read his biography, and the only thing I dimly remember hearing about him is that he did cartoons for the New York Times, or something like that... So how do I know he is wise? Because I have read "A Barrel of Laughs, A Vale of Tears," which is proof of this and also that my friends have excellent taste.

The book is unlike any other children's book (assuming it is a children's book) or really anything I've ever read before, which was very refreshing. It's very charming and witty and a whole lot of fun, but the thing that made it all really worth it was that beneath all this cleverness some pretty worthwhile statements were being made. Take this passage for example:

"Because Roger was a carrier of joy, he spread it before him. It glowed off his presence like the rays of the sun. He was a special delight to his mother, and the thought of this he found particularly gratifying because of her sudden demise. Out for a swim one day, she'd been swallowed by a blue whale.

He missed his mother, but whales were his favorite mammal and blue was his favorite color, so, if she had to go, that didn't seem like such a bad way. After a while, Roger came to smile at the thought of that blue whale on that bright green sea gulping down his mother in a red-striped swimming costume as if she was a candy cane."

Okay, so maybe that's just silly. Everybody knows blue whales eat plankton! But it sure was a lot of fun. Or maybe that's sick. But I'm getting ahead of myself. The book follows the story of Roger, who is a danger to the general public because he can't get within half a mile of anybody without making them laugh. Roger is a prince, but since he can't associate with people much, this ability of his would get in the way of him being a responsible king, so the royal wizard decides the only thing to do is to go on a quest. Of course. What else?

Feiffer has a lot of fun playing with cliches of the genre, and his two-dimensional characters (the book is illustrated) have more depth than some adult novels I've run across. But, as I was saying, there's more too it than that.

"'I've never HAD to make a decision before.'
'Think of it as a challenge,' said Tom, from between pursed lips.
'How do you go about it?' asked Roger...
...'You just- You put together all the- You think this way and that- You make a list- You weight the alternatives-" Tom fell silent. 'I'm a peasant,' he said at last. 'I've never had to make a decision. People like you are supposed to make them for me.'
'What if I make one--and it's wrong?"
'I'm not an expert, but if a decision doesn't work out, my guess would be that you have to make another decision.'
'A SECOND decision?' cried Roger in alarm.
'I'm not an expert, but my guess would be you keep making decisions until you get one that works.'
'That could take YEARS!' said Roger the Toad.
'That's another reason why I don't make them.'

Yep kids, that's unfortunately how it works. For everything! It's kind of ludicrous when you do really think about it. So while that passage is playful, I think it's pretty intelligent to with a good sense of how bizarre life can be and perhaps just a little political subtext? Maybe not. But if I want political subtext I can have political subtext darn it, because I'm the reader and the reader gets what the reader wants! Or so I was taught in Honors Reading Lit.

"Now, when you're considerate of other people, it introduces a whole new set of problems."

Once again, it was little tidbits like this that made the book worthwhile. If you had the context, you would see that it simultaneously acknowledges that one has a responsibility to be considerate of other people, but also that this can be bothersome, but even so, it's very much worth doing and very much the right thing to do. What a great lesson to pack into a book! I know many adults who haven't quite grasped this concept, myself included.

"Tom turned to stone because he had made up his mind that he was going to...In fact, Tom didn't really turn to stone. But it took him a week of standing in one place, stiff as a statue, before he knew it. And that knowledge came only after he got thirsty and hungry. 'Stone statues don't get thirsty' was his first thought. 'Stone statues don't get hungry' was his second thought. 'Stone statues don't think' was his third thought...Tom leaves the book now, never to return. I will write no more of him, other than to say that he lives happily ever after. All by himself. Waking every day to the cherished memory that once he was a statue and now he's not."

So first of all, we've all been this silly. We can be so sure that something terrible is going to happen that we make it happen (self-fulfilling prophecies), and we can become so wrapped up in ourselves that we make the most mundane and stupid things into great accomplishments. Feiffer knows how humanity ticks. And he puts it in a little book that can easily be read in a few hours time. There's a lot more in this book I could go on about. Lots of little tidbits about friendship and heroism and feelings and all that great stuff that's supposed to be in great books. But as much as I enjoyed it all, the only thing it really did for me was to make me want to read more Jules Feiffer. :-)

My Dad the Storyteller

So... this seemed appropriate since Father's Day is coming up.

This morning I enjoyed a leisurely breakfast of delicious waffles while perusing the newspaper and chatting with my parents. The dog and the cat made general nuisances of themselves and we watched the house sparrows that live in our roof flying around the backyard. It was nice to be able to relax after the work week. As I got up to get some coffee, I noticed a newish looking watch sitting by the microwave.

"Is that a new watch or just the old one with a new band?" I asked. I didn't recognize it.

My dad looked up from the "Cars" section, sighed, and said "Well..."

This is a signal that a long and involved story is about to be told. It happens all the time. I think it's just the way my dad communicates. It doesn't matter how commonplace the subject matter is. I could ask him about the weather and he could probably come up with some trip down memory lane or obscure fact. Believe it or not, he actually managed to take 15 minutes or so just to explain that he had bought the watch around Christmas.

Whenever this happens, I always have this vision of my dad sitting around a campfire in ancient times a la Homer. He just knows how to tell a story. It's actually kind of impressive. He probably could have made a living out of it if he'd felt inclined. I've always attributed my love of books and reading to my dad's influence. I have vivid memories of him reading to me before bedtime, which I'm sure is true of a lot of people. But if you could hear my dad read from Tolkien or the short stories of Arthur Gordon you'd understand. There's no way a kid who grew up with that could NOT get it.

My dad taught me to have a deep appreciation for writing used as a means of expression and the power of the written word. I'm really grateful for this. There's not much to do out here in the country and I've spent many weekends simply polishing off another book or browsing at our little library. Reading can be one of the most enriching and fulfilling experiences in life if you know how to approach it and how to dig meaning out of the author's works. I'm not a great literary analyst by any means, and often times I read simply for pleasure and don't work that hard at finding a deeper significance. But when language is used well, it accomplishes something that neither music nor art can, because language is specific. That's an oversimplification of a complicated topic but I'm not here to write a dissertation.

So that is my written tribute to my father for Father's Day. I've always felt blessed for having a father who shows integrity, honesty, intelligence, is devoted to his family, and follows Christ. Unfortunately, that's a rare thing and something I tend to take for granted.

Sometimes, Good Music Speaks for Itself

A long, long time ago...
I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And, maybe, they’d be happy for a while.

But february made me shiver
With every paper I’d deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep;
I couldn’t take one more step.

I can’t remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride,
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died.

So bye-bye, miss american pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."

Did you write the book of love,
And do you have faith in God above,
If the Bible tells you so?
Do you believe in rock ’n roll,
Can music save your mortal soul,
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Well, I know that you’re in love with him
`cause I saw you dancin’ in the gym.
You both kicked off your shoes.
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues.

I was a lonely teenage broncin’ buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died.

I started singin’,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."

Now for ten years we’ve been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rollin’ stone,
But that’s not how it used to be.
When the jester sang for the king and queen,
In a coat he borrowed from james dean
And a voice that came from you and me,

Oh, and while the king was looking down,
The jester stole his thorny crown.
The courtroom was adjourned;
No verdict was returned.
And while lennon read a book of marx,
The quartet practiced in the park,
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day the music died.

We were singing,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."

Helter skelter in a summer swelter.
The birds flew off with a fallout shelter,
Eight miles high and falling fast.
It landed foul on the grass.
The players tried for a forward pass,
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast.

Now the half-time air was sweet perfume
While the sergeants played a marching tune.
We all got up to dance,
Oh, but we never got the chance!
`cause the players tried to take the field;
The marching band refused to yield.
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died?

We started singing,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."

Oh, and there we were all in one place,
A generation lost in space
With no time left to start again.
So come on: jack be nimble, jack be quick!
Jack flash sat on a candlestick
Cause fire is the devil’s only friend.

Oh, and as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage.
No angel born in hell
Could break that satan’s spell.
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite,
I saw satan laughing with delight
The day the music died

He was singing,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."

I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news,
But she just smiled and turned away.
I went down to the sacred store
Where I’d heard the music years before,
But the man there said the music wouldn’t play.

And in the streets: the children screamed,
The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed.
But not a word was spoken;
The church bells all were broken.
And the three men I admire most:
The father, son, and the holy ghost,
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died.

And they were singing,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."

They were singing,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die."

AAA - Howl's Moving Castle

Ever since I read "Hexwood," Diana Wynne Jones has been one of my favorite authors. Her books are always fantasy, with charming characters and witty plots, she's very aware of all the cliches in fantasy writing and rather than trying to avoid them, pokes fun at them. I've always enjoyed her books' sense of fun and how each was a sort of capsule of a different world. She doesn't tend to write long series.

So when I heard that the brilliant Japanese film director Hayao Miyazaki was doing a film adaptation of one of British author Diana Wynne Jones' novels, I could hardly believe it. Immediately it seemed like an obvious, if unlikely match. Jones has the same sense of nonsensical fun that Miyazaki often employs in his films. Their works are similarly quirky and clever and always set in impossible "magic" worlds. It was a perfect match.

I already had "Howl's Moving Castle" on my reading list. It had come up as a suggestion on my Amazon account long ago and I'd been immediately intrigued. Now I had to read it. It still took me until this summer to actually pick it up from the library, and the whole time I read through I tried to imagine how Miyazaki would approach a certain scene and kept marvelling at how perfect a match this was. I absolutely love the book, I'm rereading it already.

To my delight, the library district had the DVD and so I can give you a run down of both the book and it's Japanese adaptation.

"In the land of Ingary, where such things as seven-league boots and cloaks of invisibility really exist, it is quite a misfortune to be born the eldest of three. Everyone knows you are the one who will fail first, and worst, if the three of you set out to seek your fortunes." So the book begins, then introducing us to Sophie Hatter, who is unfortunately the eldest of three sisters and therefore has a rather hopeless outlook for her future life. When her father dies, her step-mother is forced to send off the other two sisters into apprenticeships because they can't afford to pay for their schooling, but as the eldest Sophie is forced to stay and labor on hats. The already shy Sophie becomes even more of shut-in until she goes to visit the middle sister who is working in a bakery across town. The book and the movie diverge a bit here. In both cases she runs into the "courtly" Wizard Howl, whose floating (or, in the movie, crawling) castle makes the villagers nervous because Howl supposedly eats girls' hearts. Sophie does not know it is Howl in either case, but in the book she is simply "accosted" by him and runs away. In the movie, their meeting leads to my favorite scene, where Howl rescues Sophie from being "accosted" and they go for a walk in the sky above Market Chipping. *avidly searches YouTube for a clip*

However the evil Witch of the Waste has her eye on Howl and becomes jealous of Sophie. So she visits Sophie's hat shop and places a spell on her, making Sophie into the old woman she acts like. Sophie finds that she is much more free to act as she pleases as an old woman than she ever felt as a girl and, since she feels she can no longer stay at the shop, goes out to seek her fortune. Of course she winds up at Howl's castle. She is let in by Calcifer the fire demon. Calcifer is working for Howl under a contract that he would like Sophie to break, so he makes a bargain with Sophie that if she breaks his contract he will break her spell, the catch being he can't tell her what the contract is or how to break it. So Sophie hires herself as Howl's cleaning lady in order to solve the mystery. The plot is delightful, but in traditional Diana Wynne Jones fashion, quite confusing and it takes at least a couple readings to really get everything straight. But of course, this fits Miyazaki to a tee.

In Jones' novel, the castle is quite traditional, but Miyazaki couldn't resist tinkering with the idea. His castle ambles along on four legs looking a lot like a turtle covered with a junk heap and sounding like a car that's about to break down. The castle is one of Miyazaki's best creations, and is immensely fun to watch.

Another toy Miyazaki gets to play with is the castle door, which leads to different locations depending on which way the doorknob is facing. The idea is so good it doesn't need alteration. Howl and his assistant run a sort of wizard's shop where they create spells for purchase. Their customers reach them through a variety of different places and Calcifer works as a sort of receptionist calling out which door someone is at ("Porthaven door!" or "Kingsbury!" etc.)

I was surprised at how closely the movie followed the book at the beginning. Some scenes were done word for word. One especially fun one is where Howl cooks breakfast on Calcifer and feeds him egg shells. But then things get... different... And quite hard to follow. Whereas the Witch of the Waste is the main villain in the book, she becomes merely a side character in the movie. Miyazaki hardly ever has straight villains, and instead there's an awful lot about a war that was only hinted at in the book. We're never quite sure who's fighting who or why (until the end, kind of...) but THIS is definitely a point. To quote Howl "does it matter?" The movie has strong anti-war sentiments, yet it is not totally pacifist. Howl, who is a self-described coward, does finally turn and fight because he's "finally found someone he wants to protect." This leaves the movie open to a certain amount of interpretation which I think is both intelligent and considerate.

I do not think this film is one of Miyazaki's strongest although I have to admit it's a bit addictive and definitely growing on me. All the characters are done well, but the points where the plots truly departs from the book are confusing and don't make much sense. It was probably worse for me because I was trying to decipher the book and the movie's plot simultaneously and that's just asking for a headache. But there is some delightful stuff here and Miyazaki's usual sensitivity and humor is present.

We mostly spend our time becoming acquainted with the characters, which is quite fun. Jones tends to draw quick, dynamic portraits of personalities but leave off details which works great for a two or so hour movie. People who are used to characters with complicated backstories and detailed personality traits will find Jones' slap-dash creations possibly a bit weak, but I think it's more a matter of style then of quality. One weakness (I'll probably get spat at for this) but I think one weakness that Jones and Miyazaki share is their endings. They set up such delightful worlds an clever pretenses that it's like they're not quite sure how to wrap things up. Both the book and the movie conclude far too neatly and it feels somewhat like we've been stopped halfway through the ride.

Despite its weaknesses, I keep coming back to this movie for some reason. It has a unique charm that I think overcomes its faults and I'd recommend it as a good introduction to Miyazaki's work.

*arrives with YouTube clip* Okay! I found a clip of my favorite scene. Unfortunately, it's the English dub and as much as I like Christian Bale, it still pales in comparison to the original Japanese in which Howl is much less of a "tough guy." But at least you get to see it. Enjoy!

AAA - Miyazaki

And we're back! With another exciting installment of "Anime Addicts Anonymous!" Today, Hayao Miyazaki and the films of Studio Ghibli.

Japanese animation actually started with Walt Disney. He was the first person to create "moving pictures" and so any animated film must be traced back to him. I've heard several theories about Disney's influence on anime, which emerged around the same time that Bambi was released. Some people speculate that artists were trying to imitate Disney and that's why anime characters have those large eyes. Others say no, it's all symbolic and the large eyes represent innocence, which, considering there are quite a few villains with large eyes, I'm not sure I buy into that one. Either theory actually seems suspect to me. There's no denying that anime has a recognizable style. The sharp angles, weird hair colors (and styles), flashy outfits, make one automatically think "ah! that's that Pokemon crap." But, American animation, until recent years (where it's taken on a bit of a Japanese flair, think Emperor's New Groove), has always looked relatively alike too. This is probably partially because Disney held the monopoly on animation for so many years, to the extent that many people automatically assume any animated film is a Disney film. Most people aren't aware that there are several other animation studios operating out there nowadays. Dreamworks (El Dorado, Shrek), and Fox (Anastasia) have both put out big name animated movies and I'm sure there's another one or two even I'm forgetting, not to mention the countless start up operations trying to make a go of it, like Pixar did.

Anyhow, where am I going with this? Ah yes, Studio Ghibli IS Japan's Walt Disney Studios. (Disney itself is very popular in Japan as well). And Hayao Miyazaki just happens to work for them.

The first Miyazaki film I ever saw was Princess Mononoke. I was just getting into anime and I remember seeing it on video racks, and thinking "wow, that looks awesome." Apparently I pointed it out to a friend enough times that he got it for me for my birthday. We watched together and I was blown away. It was so completely different from anything I'd ever seen before.

First off, the artwork was gorgeous. This was before I'd seen Escaflowne or anything with artistic merit. All I'd seen were the dumbed down anime on Fox Kids. This was the best animation I had EVER seen. Miyazaki really does elevate these movies to the level of art, something that I don't believe Disney has ever done, as much as I love them. The film opened with low drums and strings, and almost a painting of a mountainous landscape and my jaw dropped.

This is how Online Ghilbli summarizes it. "The film follows Ashitaka, a prince of the disappearing Ainu tribe, who is cursed by a demonised boar god and must journey to the west to find a cure from the Forest Spirit. Along the way, he encounters San (The Princess Mononoke), a young human woman fighting to protect the forest and Lady Eboshi, the head of Tatara Ba (Iron Town). Ashitaka is forced to find a middle ground between the two ambivalent forces.

Based on Japanese folklore, "Princess Mononoke" is a riveting piece which is moving and touches upon subjects that are still relevant today - questions of war, ecology, morals and principles."

Princess Mononoke IS primarily an environmentalist film, something even my 13-or-so-year-old self couldn't fail to miss. The whole conflict between the industrialized Iron Town, where people can finally live happily and prosperously but at the cost of the neighboring forest, whose fantastical inhabitants suffer. Ashitaka is the go-between, and while there are many battles the end result isn't one of conquerer and conquered but of reconciliation. The themes Miyazaki deals with here are very complex, I never fully understand his films, I don't think he does, I don't think anyone can. Different people interpret them differently and you can always find something new to appreciate each time you watch them.

But I was baffled by the grotesqueness of the animation and indecipherable nature of its symbolism. Grotesque is used in the best possible sense, but the images were startling. Giant animal "gods," forest spirits, and all sorts of weird creatures occupy the film (including weird little bobble-head like creatures and a giant black blob, Miyazaki seems to like formless blobby creatures). The result is rather confusing to our traditional Western thinking. And yet it's so imaginative that I was spellbound.

That's one thing that Miyazaki does. He really, really creates, and the result is the unexpected, sometimes beautiful, and sometimes shocking, but always interesting. I think one of the reasons anime is so fascinating is because it's so different from what we're used to. That's not to say it's alien, just foreign.

Anyhow, Princess Mononoke quickly became one of my favorite movies. Not because of the characters, not because of the themes, not even because of the artwork, but because the journey was so engrossing. So when I heard that a Miyazaki film would be playing in select theaters in Spokane, well, I called every friend I could think of to try and go. I finally found an old highschool chum who seemed interested and so we made our way downtown to watch Spirited Away.

Miyazaki on the big screen is magic. He's an artist, his films are art, and they deserve to be seen as they were meant to be seen, in a theater. Spirited Away was a different animal entirely than Princess Mononoke. It reminded me of a Grimm's fairy tale, some liken it to Alice in Wonderland.

This time the story is in modern-day Japan. 10-year-old Chihiro is moving to a new town with her rather unsympathetic and fairly stupid parents (something I disliked about the film was its portrayal of her parents). They stop at what appears to be an abandoned theme park, the parents are hungry, they find what they think is some food for sale, they eat it and turn into pigs. From this point on Chihiro becomes trapped in the "spirit world," where she finds a job in a bath house for spirits. (Spirits are a recurring theme in Miyazaki movies, this film is particularly pantheistic, giant black blobs and enormous old ladies also show up frequently). The house is run by the sorceress Yubaba who takes control of Chihiro by giving her a new name.

The plot and the characters are absolutely bizarre. The bath house is inhabited by an old man with like eight or so arms (who runs the furnace or something like that), little cute dust mite things, a strange masked thing, a giant baby, and a hopping lamp just to name a few. But it's all rollicking good fun if you're up for it. I didn't take to it as much as I did to Princess Mononoke, mainly because I'm a sucker for epics with sword fighting, but I was glad I got to see it on the big screen and I knew I had to see more.

And so I went to the library where I found Kiki's Delivery Service, Castle in the Sky, and Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind. Each was delightful in its own way (an important note though, NEVER watch the dubs, they're generally horrible, always watch with subtitles) although Princess Mononoke still remained my favorite.

Miyazaki doesn't necessarily bother with setting up the plot too much. Things kind of start in media res and we're left to catch up and figure out what's going on, which sometimes takes multiple viewings and in a few cases, not everything is explained completely. I've found this irks me a lot less now. Life isn't cut and dry, we don't understand all of it, even from a Christian standpoint, and whether or not the indecipherable nature of some of Miyazaki's films is a reflection of this I don't know. But it doesn't make them unenjoyable. I think Roger Ebert explained it as "spectacle without meaning" or explanation or something like that. We don't care that we don't understand what's going on, because it's so entertaining.

Recently I checked out Howl's Moving Castle (which is actually an excellent book by Diana Wynne Jones, I highly recommend). It had the same attention to detail, the same sense of fun and magic. Miyazaki really is a minimalist and he will get the most out of a single movement or shot that he possibly can.

I could write pages on each of Miyazaki's films, but I don't exactly have the space or time for that now, though Howl's Moving Castle will definitely get a review. Miyazaki's films may seem unconventional, even weird or disturbing (hopping green heads?) to the typical American mindset, but there's something present in his work that American filmmakers would do well to sit up and take notice of. The greatest strength and delight in Miyazaki's films is, for me, his willingness to just steep you in the moment. Whether that moment is a train ride, or a walk through a flower garden or whatever. Miyazaki milks every emotion, every expression, every movement for all it's worth and in doing so captures real life in his two-dimensional creations in some ways better than any live action film can do. And that's kind of the point.

I'm not saying that Japanese sensibilities are any better or worse than anybody else's. And I'm not saying money is any less the bottom line there than it is here. But it sickens me to think of how many billions of dollars have been blown on meaningless popcorn fair that doesn't do anybody a speck of good and how few thoughtful, artistic films are made. Producers and studio execs rely on what's worked before, on overused cliches and reused ideas, because it's a safe bet. It's unfortunate that so few are willing to take a creative gamble and really allow cinema to fulfill its potential. After all, if you're going to spend that much money on something, you might as well make something worthwhile.

It's obvious that Miyazaki enjoys creating and that he wants to make something worthwhile. And he consistently does. Hopefully I'll find the time to tackle each of his films individually because they really are fantastic. And I hope this post made an ounce of sense because I do tend to ramble mindlessly.