Spirited Away
Hayao Miyazaki is often referred to as the Japanese “Walt Disney.” Most of the time, I think that is the effort of the US press to glibly find some easy way for American audiences to relate to Miyazaki’s film. But after some careful consideration on my part, I think I’m beginning to see more than a facile connection, based on his last two films,
Princess Mononoke, and especially his newest,
Spirited Away (of course, I must confess that I am no anime or manga expert, nor have I seen any of Miyazaki’s earlier films, so my analysis, may in part, be deficient). Because in the US, popular animation is generally seen as a children’s genre (even though WB cartoons from the 1930s through the 1950s were among the most adult entertainment available), many commentators pass over, or give short shrift to the darker moments that underpin these cartoons, that make them more interesting, more complex. A movie like
Pinnochio is as much a nightmare as it is a children’s fantasy You could really pick any early Disney film and find similar moments, for instance, the death of Bambi’s mother has now traumatized at least four generations of children.
I think you could make a similar case for
Spirited Away, a short role call of moments to illustrate my point: Chihiro’s parents turning into pigs; the grotesque oversized Yubaba and her baby (not to mention the three, green, guttural, heads that bounce around attending Yubaba); the gooey, lumbering gelatinous, gag-inducing “stink” demon (two notes: I think that Miyazaki films are the best I’ve ever seen in rendering goo, mud, and blood; also the stink demon turning out to be a powerful River Spirit infected by stinking human garbage introduces the ecological themes that seems to interest Miyazaki, as does the plight of Haku); the sullen, sad, silent No-Face turning into a bloated, ravenous, gluttonous monster, a perfect embodiment of loneliness run amok, turning even more terrifying when it chases Chihiro through the many levels of the bathhouse, vomiting noxious goo, as well as the bathhouse spirits he has eaten; the battered, bloody Haku-dragon, bleeding profusely from the inside, due to a curse upon him.
But mostly it is the fact that Chihiro is alone. Chihiro loses her parents and is left all alone in a strange world. And being all alone is a fear that not only children can relate to; this fear of being alone, without friends, is a theme that begins early on in the film. Chihiro is so unhappy with the move to the countryside, because she had to leave her friends behind. Because the plot of
Spirited Away is rather formless and episodic, the thrust of the story, other than Chihiro’s obvious goal to free her parents and go back to the human world, is the way she gains friends in the bathhouse, and this provides balance to the darker aspects of the story. There is the mysterious Haku, whose motives are left somewhat ambiguous once it is revealed that he is Yubaba’s apprentice, and who is often aloof towards her, other times he is helpful; the magical balls of animated soot, who tend Chihiro’s shoes and socks (their worker’s revolt is one of the funniest scenes in the movie); the spidery (literally, with the several, long spindly arms), bespectacled boiler-operator Kama-jii
who helps Chihiro get a job at the bathhouse, saving her life (and later, when he finds her sleeping on the hardwood floor, he tenderly drapes her in a blanket); the initially huffy Lin, one of the more human-like denizens of the bathhouse who begins to act like a big sister to Chihiro; the obese, elephantine Radish (daikon) spirit who takes a mysterious interest in Chihiro and helps her evade detection; the silent No-Face that helps Chihiro bathe the River Spirit by stealing the herbal water tokens; with this success, Chihiro begins to win over the the various denizens and workers of the bathhouse, who cheer after she helps the River Spirit (with the radish spirit noticeably in front), she fully wins over the workers once she succeeds in leading the out of control No-Face out of the bathhouse, releasing the three spirit workers that were eaten by the No-Face.
Another friend is Yubaba’s gigantic baby who was turned into a fat mouse by Yubaba’s sister, Zenuba; he comically is carried around by a bird that was turned into a buzzing fly, his adventures with Chihiro outside the bathhouse give him his first taste of freedom. When he is turned back into a baby, he stands up to his mother to help Chihiro; and then there is Zenuba herself, who is initially portrayed as a villain, but who is revealed to be a kindly, grandmother-like spirit, much different from her greedy sister. She even takes in No-Face (it was revealed that he does not have any family; No-Face is perhaps my favorite character in the movie, he’s simply drawn, but very effective, especially when he is mute). It is her friendship and love for Haku that convinces him to strike a bargain with Yubaba for her and her parents release; it is also what allows Haku to escape his own bondage from Yubaba (she takes the names of her employees when they sign their contracts, preventing them from remembering their past, Chihiro was saved by Haku when he was a river spirit, and it is her memories of him that ultimately frees him; Chihiro keeps her memories because she has a going-away card from an old friend that she keeps close to her).
These two strands, the darkness and the light, intermingle to form a complex world, both wondrous and frightening. I could only wish to have Miyazaki’s imagination. Every bit of the frame is filled with intricate, colorful detail.
Texture, volume, and movement prove to be no challenges for the filmmakers at Ghibli studios, and the human figures, other than the wide, saucer eyes common to anime films (the exaggeration, as Roger Ebert continually notes, providing a clearer emotional picture of each character), are among the most convincingly lifelike drawings not done by rotoscope (perhaps it is the attention that Miyazaki pays the sinew of the arms and legs, how lines on the figures arms seem to create the impression of flexing, tensing, and relaxation). And not only does he create an entire world for his characters to exist in, he also fills it with imaginative inventions such as the simply rendered, yet oh so cute soot balls (basically black blobs with eyes) who are fed brightly colored, candy stars like chickens; the animated origami figure that clings to Chihiro, allowing Zenuba entrance into the bathhouse; the old style train that traverses flooded tracks (the stone platforms jutting out of the water like islands) with the mysterious, shadowy riders; and then there is Zenuba’s animated lamp post which guides Chihiro through the swamp, hopping and twisting energetically. Of course, there are many more, you could go on and on with the various details, which is the film’s chief strength, rewarding repeat viewings. It is the most successful animated films that do this, creating their own worlds that are as real as any other.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home