Thursday, April 8, 2010

Week 11: Spirited Away

I don't say this for many films, in fact, I don't say this for many things, but here goes:

I love Spirited Away.

With Spirited Away Miyazaki touches all of your perceptive conscience, not the kind of accidental, 'oops-sorry-I-didnt-see-you-there' touching you do on a crowded BART train, but a full on deep tissue massage of you visual, auditory, creative, critical, and emotional reception channels that leaves you wanting no more and no less. It's bewildering how fiercely creative Miyazaki and all his writing and animation staff was with this work of art. With so much stimulation, it's no wonder that no matter how many times I've watched this, I discover something new about the film and what it is trying to show. Despite this being my 4th time with this film (1st time I really looked at anything beyond the spectacle) I still dont think I have a full grasp of it, and that's fine because it's as if Miyazaki meant for this film to be like one of those 'holographic images' that used to be popular in the 90's where you would see a different picture depending on which direction you were looking at it from.

This viewing I noticed that despite Chihiro's time in a fantasy world, she lives and deals with real world situations. For instance, her encounter with the no-face is a show of how childhood innocence can trump greed and coveting. Her unconditional kindness attracted the no-face, and her pure gratitude for his kind actions kept him there. Misunderstanding the nature of her kind-heartedness, the no-face begins to thrust material possessions unto Chihiro, who does not want any of it which bothers him to no end. Seeking the same kind of unconditional kindness, no-face goes on a binge, indulging himself in many a mortal vice, gluttony, greed, and covetousness with no reprieve from the emptiness inside (we see a great metaphor for many adults trying to fill the void with worldly pleasures). He only finally realizes what he is missing after throwing everything up, and stop filling himself with no the superficial, and start filling the void with real purpose.

This is just one of the many examples of real life analogues Chihiro encounters throughout the film, and it's truly remarkable how Miyazaki can fit so much so seamlessly in his work.

P.S. I can identify every single character in this picture now!

Week 10: Princess Mononoke Revisited

Miyazaki is like a shark, he can't stop making metaphors.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Week 9: Princess Mononoke

Again, this is another popular Miyzaki film that I have not seen before, so I was pretty impressed, however I do have a few things that I'm curious about. Unlike the other Miyazaki films we've seen so far, Princess Mononoke is centered around several key characters rather than just one or two. At each point in the story, the direction of the plot hinges on the actions of Prince Ashitaka, Sen and the Moro Tribe, Lady Eboshi, and a few other entities in the story. I felt that even with the two hour running time, the characters were spread a little more thin than they should have been. At several key points in the story, I was begrudgingly forcing myself to accept certain plot elements that seemed to lack real motivation. For example

-Sen and Ashitaka's love story seemed to be largely superficial (though it did make sense for them to "break up" at the end.
-Ashitaka's relationship with the ironworks. Why did he want to live there at the end? Was it for Sen? For the sake of the forest?
-Lady Eboshi's unreasonable drive to get the Deer God's head. If she didnt trust the emperor why bother going to such huge lengths to get it

Dont get me wrong, I really liked the film, and I agree it is a really smart film but those things are something that might need to be watched again to fully understand? Or maybe it's just an element of the story telling style. After all, Miyazaki has a track record of telling his stories like epics, covering a broad range of truly fantastic events without questioning too much the realism of any particular moment. It seems like anything was possible within the bounds of the world Miyazaki created, however, there were just those three things mentioned above that stepped outside those bounds. I'll probably watch it again some time to try to figures these things out.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Week 8: Porco Roso

This week's film Porco Roso is a return to the epic storytelling style of Miyazaki's earlier works (i.e. Castle of Cagliostro, Naussica, Castle in the Sky). However there is a definite difference between the styles of his earlier and this, Porco Roso. It's interesting to note that his previous film was centered around very fantastic storylines and set in various 'non-real' places. However, this time, Miyazaki sets the film in a definite historical location: Post World War I Italy and mentions various real world locations (Milan, the Adriatic, etc.). Previously we were only exposed to the Miyazaki who wrote fantasy, but this new Miyazaki is a breath of fresh air.

On the topic of setting, I believe Susan Napier said that Miyazaki uses unfamiliar (sometimes fantasy) settings to de-familiarize the viewer with the surroundings, erasing any prior rules or constraints that applies to their familiar world, such that the viewer's mind's eye will be drawn outward, and instead of focusing primarily on and inner conflict, we focus on more overarching themes (think Nausicaa where there is very little inner conflict/change). If we look at a film like Totoro, we are set in a very 'familiar' setting, the Japanese countryside which I'm told is familiar to most Japanese people. As a result we have a very inward focusing story focusing on themes like childhood imagination and coping. However with Porco Roso Miyazaki sets us in a place somewhere in between familiar and unfamiliar. On one hand we have historic locations paired with historic locations, yet to many it's something only familiar through text books and stories (i.e. Casablanca)

Perhaps by doing this, Miyazaki is trying to tread the middle-ground where the outward meets the inner, and what we get is a very romantic (in the sense of the movement and not just romance) story that explores topics like the definition of freedom, what makes a hero, and the power love has int it's various forms (phileos, eros, etc.). These themes cant be explored on just a single level, rather they are explored in both an internal context, i.e. Porco's internal struggle between being a rouge-gun bounty hunter or the hero and lover that his friends believe him to be. There are many more and it's cool to know how much a detail like setting can affect the flow and interpretation of an entire story.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Week 7: Kiki's Delivery Service

In this week's film, KiKi's Delivery Service, we see Miyzaki once again treading the line between reality and fantasy, and it seems to be a theme that Miyazaki thrives on the idea of the supernatural existing completely normally with the normal world. In Totoro it was that spirits existed and people knew and were totally ok with that, and now it's witches existing in the modern (well in this case, maybe the late 40's Europe) world. People are initially surprised at the sight of a girl flying on a broomstick, but they merely act surprised and not scared as if seeing a witch flying around is not a common but completely plausible sight. Perhaps it's as Freud described the uncanny, the feeling that is associated with things lost in the past, but restored seemingly inexplicably. However in Miyazaki's case it's a little different, while Freud made it clear that that feeling of the uncanny derived from something unpleasant that was lost (like like Hoffman's Sandman), Miyazaki's variation on the 'uncanny' stems from something pleasant lost through time restored. Just as the uncanny makes for a powerful sense of uncomfortableness, I feel that it leaves the viewer with a strong sense of comfort and the wonder of something so subtly fantastic happening in the 'real' world. This powerful feeling gently drives a story without a whole lot of 'movement' (e.g. conflict, action, etc.). In doing this, it seems Miyazaki is using the art of storytelling to let the viewer's mind explore the rich, detail filled world the characters inhabit, as opposed to using the world as an unimportant backdrop to the story.

Week 6: My Neighbor Totoro

This week's film My Neighbor Totoro was the first film that reflects Miyazaki's later works, characterized by the modern shojo character. The plot is centered around the otherworldly explorations of two sisters Satsuki and Mei both of which seen to posses the uncanny ability to see spirits. Through this ability, Mei and Satsuki meet what their father calls "the king of the forest" more affectionately named Totoro. Any conflict in the film appears and is resolved at the very end of the film (Mei get's lost and Totoro calls the cat bus to help find her), so It's obvious that this film is not one that follows the standard conflict-> resolution storyline. So what is the purpose then? Surely this is the same Miyazaki who directed epics like Naussica and Castle in the sky. It seems to me that the complexities of this film do not seek to tackle huge topics, rather Miyazaki seeks to explore the realm of childhood imagination. The Totoro (pl.) are a manifestation of a childhood fascination with the fantastic that adults no longer posses. Furthermore, what makes this film unique is the approach Miyazaki takes towards this topic. While western culture encourages a departure from childhood imagination and discourages having 'imaginary friends' the adult characters in the film sympathize with the children and often encourage their imaginative exploration (oba-san openly says that she used to be able to see the 'dust bunnies' when she was younger). In addition to that, Miyazaki is constantly blurring the line between the real and the 'imaginary'. Initially, it's just the appearance of the acorns that the Totoro spirits seem to collect, but it quickly increases to a lost umbrella, and ultimately the appearance of the cob of corn with the message inscribed on it. By constantly playing with this line between the real and imaginary, Miyazaki infuses a sense of mystery into the 'real world' that is reminiscent of childhood wonder. However the feeling Miyazaki is trying to invoke is not necessarily nostalgia, especially since he does not confine the imaginary world to the bounds of the real world.

Thursday, February 18, 2010