A Film Review of Spirited Away
Miyazaki’s Spirited Away—spirit…spirits…and the Spirit
When
I (Cathy) was eight years old I stumbled onto, through television, the story of
Alice in Wonderland—a pretty but whiney little girl accidentally embarks on a
sometimes-frightening journey through a fantastical world. This chance encounter was only the
first of many imaginative journeys I have taken to other worlds throughout my
life—The Arabian Nights, Grimm’s Fairy Tales, The Iliad, The
Hobbit, A Wrinkle in Time, The Chronicles of Narnia, and even
some of the “Harry Potter” tales, to name a few. Late in 2002 I again stumbled into another world. Curious
about Japanese animation (“anime”), Rob and I went to see Spirited Away—the story of a pretty but whiney
little girl who accidentally embarks on a sometimes-frightening journey through
a fantastical world. This was an
East meets West experience—Studio Ghibli meets Disney/Pixar. But it was so much more, that we want
to commend this movie for your viewing.
However,
writing about a film like Spirited Away is tricky.
Describing plot line, characters, specific scenes and adventures can
only go so far for those who haven’t experienced a Hayao Miyazaki (one of
Japan’s, and arguably the world’s, foremost animators) film. So indulge us if this review feels more
like our reminiscence of being swept away by the sheer beauty of a vibrant,
colorful world.
The
“Alice” of our tale is a ten-year-old girl named Chihiro. She is moving from the city to the
suburbs with her family, and she is not at all happy about the disruption to
her life. She complains, sulks,
and literally drags her feet when her parents stumble upon an abandoned theme
park and decide to explore. While there, she is separated from her parents, who
are soon turned into pigs after eating food left for others. But for whom, she wonders. As night falls she begins to see the
answer to her question, as the theme park becomes a bathhouse—a resort of sorts
for spirits to rest and rejuvenate.
Like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole, Chihiro finds herself in a
strange world with its own rules.
It too is ruled by a cranky queen, Yubaba. Chihiro must not only summon the courage to fend for herself
in this place, but also figure out a way to save her parents and return to the
human world before she loses her sense of identity.
Basically
this story, like the others titled above, is a “hero myth.” Our heroine is thrown into adventure,
overcomes obstacles with the aid of “friends,” and ends up returning “home” as
a changed person. Important universal
lessons of love, courage, kindness, forgiveness, and sacrifice are learned along the way. In fact all of the
central characters have both a light and dark side, so that we see their
journeys also. And likewise, the viewer is invited to personally consider some
of the issues facing the characters: duty, fear, entitlement, selfishness,
gluttony, greed, and even treatment of the environment. Animated spirits give “shape” to these
issues in new ways.
This film is the work of human imagination, just like the
stories of Homer. In both these
works there are elements of a larger world-view that Christians might take
exception to, but also much to marvel at as creatures of a creative God. Any Christian reader capable of
enjoying The Iliad the way it was intended to be enjoyed, as a story,
can also enjoy, or better, sit in wonder at, the imaginative force of the story
and the pictures Miyazaki creates for the screen. Some of our favorites are:
prickly but lovable six-armed Kamaji looking like a hip revolutionary
commanding scurrying little balls of enchanted soot that take on a life of
their own; spirits of all shapes, colors and sizes—our favorite was the Stink
spirit; a glittering, ribbon-like dragon floating across the sky; a lamppost
that hops along on a gloved hand; and the incredible beauty and color of every
background flower, tree, mountain or sky.
As with any film, not all critics and viewers were as moved
by this film as we were. Some
Christian reviewers were put off by the pseudo-animistic—seeing gods and
spirits in all things—leanings (but others, while noting this caution, could
still praise the beauty of the film).
Other viewers had trouble with the film because it is so different from
our western animation, especially “a la” Disney. The style is more painterly
and invites the viewer to enter into a fine art canvas. Though extremely funny at points due to
the quirkiness of the characters, the film is never jokey or cartoonish. And
while our heroine is on an adventure, action does not drive the film to
frenzy. In fact, Miyazaki allows
the film to have silences and reflection, which provide rest notes between more
exuberant action or even sometimes-grotesque characters.
While
the story may be about a ten-year-old girl, it resonates with viewers of all
ages (though it probably is too much for very young children). Roger Ebert
called this movie “one of the best films” of 2002. That was certainly the feeling at the Berlin Film Festival,
where Spirited Away became the first animated film in the event’s 50-year history to win
the top prize, the Golden Bear. It also won the Oscar for Best Animated
Feature. But regardless of the awards, we feel that Miyazaki stands firmly in
that wondrous tradition of gifted creators. And perhaps in seeing and experiencing the best of human
creativity and imagination, we see and experience glimmers of the divine
“Animator.”
Catherine
M. Barsotti
Robert K.
Johnston
July 31, 2003