Whisper of the Heart (1995) by Yoshifumi Kondo

Childhood romance blossoms in this light-hearted Ghibli film directed by Yoshifumi Kondo. Bookish schoolgirl Shizuku (Yoko Honna) is intrigued when she discovers the same name on a number of library cards. She decides to find out who the mysterious Seiji Amasawa (Issei Takahashi) is and is surprised to learn that he is at the same school as her. Their fledgling romance appears doomed to be short-lived however when Seiji reveals his plans to travel abroad to become a violin maker.

Based on a manga by Aoi Hiiragi, with a screenplay by Hayao Miyazaki, “Whisper of the Heart” differs from the more fantastical Ghibli films in having an entirely real world, non-magical setting. It excels in bringing the studio’s incredible artistry to urban city streets, creating a wonderful sense of place, with extreme care taken in depicting the quotidian details of schools and apartments. From the opening panoramic shots of the city to the final credits where we see cars and people passing, incredible efforts have been taken to create a believable world with all its peculiarities. This sense of capturing reality rather than creating it is heightened by the humble direction, that never feels as if it showing off the incredible work of the background artists, but allows you to notice the small things as the action unfolds. The movie is largely set around a real-world location in Tama city, which is depicted beautifully in the animation, including the hills and mix of buildings and greenery that typify this kind of residential area.

Shizuku’s family apartment with piles of books and papers and all the great confusion of life packed in there helps to completely transport you. Likewise, the way shadows play over characters, or the reflection in train windows, each moment is packed with many subtle yet startling details that help build a tangible and enrapturing drama. Shizuku is a likeable protagonist, as with many Ghibli heroines she is defined by curiosity and passion, with her first charming romance being the perfect subject for a young audience. The pace can be sedate at times, with Shizuku’s story having few twists, instead it revolves around a number of ‘moments’ that manage to beautifully capture the feelings of the protagonists without ever stating them explicitly. Surprisingly perhaps for a children’s film there is much more subtext than story. Some of the best moments involve the antique shop owner, Shiro (Keiji Kobayashi), as he shows her an old grandfather clock, and the statuette of an elegantly dressed cat known as Baron Humbert von Gikkingen. The film will spend time over these quaint moments, allowing us to truly feel a sense of wonder at things that might otherwise go unobserved. This does mean that is a film that will be appreciated more by those who spend time considering these scenes and their meanings, as opposed to expecting to be guided through a generic romance plot.

“Whisper of the Heart” deals with themes of personal growth and sundered love. Precious gems buried deep under rock is used as an analogy for individuals discovering their particular talents or uncovering what is most meaningful to them. The first love experienced by the youthful protagonist is beautifully depicted in its faltering, unsure nature, the uncertainty twinned with an indescribable happiness. The poignancy of Shiro’s story about his own unrequited love, separated many years prior, is one of the most touching moments of the film. The film can also be seen as a commentary on the power of art, song, sculpture and the written word. Shizuku’s love of books, and Seiji’s love of music, along with Shiro’s passion for restoring antiques all speak to the important connections they feel with these things, that represent some eternal emotion of humanity: love. A subtle yet powerful love-story that speaks to deeper emotions of human connection and kinship.

Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind (1984) by Hayao Miyazaki

The earth has suffered a devastating ecological catastrophe that has destroyed most of humanity. Humans live in small communities, suffering the ravages of war and starvation. Much of the planet is taken over by a poisonous forest populated with various insects including the mammoth molluscs known as Ohms. Nausicaa is a princess from the Valley of the Wind, a peaceful community living in one of the last safe havens. When a military airship from Tolmekia crashes in their valley, Nausicaa finds a young girl who has been held prisoner, who tells her to destroy the ship’s cargo. The Tolmekian’s intend to use the deadly weapon-like monster aboard to destroy the poisoned forests and the Ohms so that they can live in peace. However, things are not as simple as they seem, as Nausicaa discovers that it is not the forest that is poisoned, but the earth, and destroying the trees and insects would lead to almost certain annihilation for all people.

Nausicaa is an action-packed film with a  strong ecological message. It is interesting to see a post-apocalyptic setting based on an environmental disaster, showing both the dangers of war and climate change. The environments are incredibly well realised, with the ecology of the forests, poisonous spores, the various creatures that now inhabit the earth, the deserts and the human societies creating a rich background for the story. The film brings in several elements to its design, including medieval style armour, tanks and rifles from various periods throughout history. This highlights the timeless quality of styles in the narrative too as the story is a traditional romantic epic, complete with a prophesied hero, a princess, knights and pitched battles; while the themes are modern, hinting at the destruction of the environment through mechanisation. The artwork and design of everything from the costumes to the creatures shows clear thought to the practicalities of their situation and their evolution through time. The animation creates a great sense of scale, particularly in the shots of the valley and the vast marauding hordes of Ohm. There are also several fantastic action sequences, showcasing Miyazaki’s love of flying machines and air combat.

Environmental concerns are at the heart of what Nausicaa is about. The realisation that it is humans who have brought themselves to the bring of extinction is poignant and thought-provoking. The message that we must learn to live with the other animals on the planet, to embrace the natural world rather than attempting to destroy it is a powerful message. The film does not shy away from confronting us with the difficult truth that such a cataclysmic future is possible. The dwarfing of humans by the giant Ohm suggests that humans are of little importance in the grand scheme of things. If we were to make the world inhospitable, it is possible that other creatures would survive and become dominant. The film is also pessimistic about a human response to such a disaster, showing the human societies still warring and coveting resources despite their imminent extinction. A timeless story and an important message for every generation, “Nausicaa” is also a thrilling fantasy adventure with a superbly depicted post-apocalyptic world.

Grave of the Fireflies (1988) by Isao Takahata

A harrowing story of suffering in the aftermath of war. The film begins in September, 1945. A young boy, Seita (Tsutomu Tatsumi), is slumped, exhausted, in a station as people pass by him. Seita tells us in narration that this is the day he died. Later a cleaner finds a candy tin full of ashes beside his body and throws it out. Fireflies appear from the tin and the spirit of Seita’s young sister Setsuko (Ayano Shiraishi) who warmly greets her brother as he heads off with her. We are then taken back to the two siblings when they were alive, living with their mother. Seito’s father is a navy officer away on duty. When their town is firebombed, Seita and Setsuko are forced to flee their home. Their mother later dies at the hospital and the two travel to live with an aunt in an unfamiliar town. The aunt is at first happy to provide for them, but soon grows impatient, begrudging them food and a roof as she cares for her own children. Finally growing tired of constant put-downs, Seita takes his sister to live in an air-raid shelter. The two struggle as food shortages grow and the town comes under threat from further attack.

Based on a semi-autobiographical short story by Akiyuki Nosaka, “Grave of the Fireflies” is incredibly moving as we see the horrors of war as experienced by the two orphans, starving and alone. There are a few lighter moments as we see them playing together and the strength of their relationship. It is poignant to watch as Seita attempts to provide for his sister and protect her innocence by not telling her about their mother’s passing. Writer and director Isao Takahata crafts a story that is simple yet packed with the minutiae of everyday life, from daily chores to the children playing together each moment is carefully observed. The animation is very understated with a slow melancholic feel to it. The subtle details add great texture to the world, such as the itching of the characters that grows as the film progresses, and the small insects that come to symbolise the struggles of the two siblings. In lingering shots of a dying firefly, or brief moments of ants scurrying under cracked pavement stones, the fragility and beauty of everyday life is brought to the fore. Michiyo Mamiya’s classical score is used sparingly, welling up at times as an emotional release to the narrative.

“Grave of the Fireflies” captures a period in history that many would like to forget. The suffering of war is often romanticised, or sanitised in sepia photographs of fallen soldiers, or quiet graveyards. Here we are shown the true horror of war, with burn victims, malnutrition, frayed tempers, and people trying their best to survive an unbearable situation. The film also shows the importance of laughter and living. Though Setsuko’s life is short, each moment we see her laugh or smile with her brother we are given a sense of the importance of life. The metaphor of the fireflies, who burn brightly for a brief time, is unmistakable here, yet in the delicate depictions of the quotidian it never feels forced. As the war comes to an end, we see people returning to their hometown full of joy and relief at the end of their struggles, while Seita carries with him the weight of his sister’s death. This powerful message, about not forgetting the victims of war, is further emphasised in the final moments. Seita and Setsuko sit on a hill looking down on the skyscrapers of a modern city, in the darkness, forgotten to the world, yet watching over them. Far from an easy watch, this reminder of suffering carries an important warning to future generations not to repeat the humanity’s past mistakes.

Okko’s Inn (2018) by Kitaro Kosaka

After her parents die in a car accident, the newly orphaned Oriko (Seiran Kobayashi), nicknamed Okko, goes to live with her grandmother Mineko (Harumi Ichiryusai) who runs a traditional inn with onsen. The inn is a place that welcomes all visitors and is said to help restore its guests. Okko soon finds herself working as a junior innkeeper, tending to guests needs and performing all the chores. But this inn is far from ordinary, as Okko discovers a ghost Uri-bo (Satsumi Matsuda) on her arrival, a former friend of her grandmother. Along with Uri-bo, a demon named Suzuki (Etsuko Tajima) and the inn’s guests, Okko comes to terms with her loss and learns several valuable life lessons.

Based on a novel by Hiroko Reijo with a script by Reiko Yoshida, “Okko’s Inn” is an enjoyable film that manages to create a light tone that does not undermine the tragic themes. Okko is a supremely likeable character, polite and hardworking with a sense of duty to her grandmother and the inn. It is a simply story but packed with lively characters, from the ghosts to Okko’s haughty classmate, Matsuki (Nana Mizuki), nicknamed Pink Frilly, whose family run a rival inn. Director Kitaro Kosaka’s bright colourful animation gives the impression of a world that is bursting with life. There are fantastic depictions of Japanese culture and tradition, from the paper fish used at the boy’s festival, to the splashing waters of the onsen, and mouthwatering traditional food.

A coming-of-age story that draws you in from the opening moments. There is a tension throughout as Okko seems to adapt easily to life at the inn and without her parents, but there is always the knowledge that this is a trauma she will need to deal with in time. She is thrown into work at the inn which helps her avoid confronting the sadness over her parents’ untimely deaths. The fantasy elements help to soften the message, allowing children, through the characters of the ghosts and demons, an understandable way to deal with the concept of death. The film does a great job with its themes of growth, acceptance and forgiveness. There is also a secondary theme of tradition and how this can give strength through an understanding of our place as part of a much larger world. Okko learns to engage with Matsuki as they work towards performing at the local festival, highlighting the benefits of co-operation over competition. Through finding a surrogate family, Okko is able to deal with her loss and accept her parents absence. A stunning animation that manages to balance serious themes with a relaxing and enjoyable atmosphere, bringing to life a world that is brimming with excitement and a sense of wonder.

The Cat Returns (2002) by Hiroyuki Morita

Haru (Chizuru Ikewaki) is typical schoolgirl who lives with her mother. One day while she is on her way home with a friend, they spot an unusual looking cat carrying a small present across the road. The cat is about to be hit by a truck before Haru darts across the road, scooping the cat up in her lacrosse stick thereby saving it’s life. As she turns to check if the cat is ok, she sees it standing on two legs and dusting itself down before telling her it is grateful for her saving his life. Later that night Haru is visited by the King of Cats and his large entourage who arrive outside her house to offer their gratitude and to say that they will repay her. She is later told by a cat that they wish her to marry their Prince, the cat whose life she saved, and must come with them to the cat kingdom. However, a mysterious voice tells her to look for the Cat Bureau. Following a white cat, Mutu (Tetsu Watanabe), to the Cat Bureau, she is greeted by the Baron Humbert von Gikkingen (Yoshihiko Hakamada) and Toto (Yosuke Saito) a crow who acts as a gargoyle for their town. They warn her against the Kingdom of Cats, but Haru is soon whisked away and must attempt to escape with the help of Mutu, Toto and the Baron.

“The Cat Returns” is based on a manga of the same name by Aoi Hiiragi. The idea of discovering a secret world and being whisked away, of unwilling princesses, near-sighted rulers, and dashing heroes coming to the rescue, are all common tropes of the genre. However, having cats be the central focus of the drama transforms this typical fantasy story into something magical. There is something enigmatic about cats, often be seen lounging or padding around the streets, and this film takes the idea that they are living a secret life when they are not being watched and runs with it. Early in the film Haru’s mother tells her that Haru used to say that she could talk to cats. It is this sort of childhood whimsy that the film captures brilliantly. It highlights the power of imagination and creativity that abounds in our youth, but that most people lose as they grow older. As well as this celebration of imagination the film is also a coming-of-age story for Haru. She is a girl lost in a dream world. Although she has a strong relationship with her best friend, her only other obsession is with a boy at her school (understandable at that age). When she is whisked away and forced into a marriage she does not want, she comes to realise that in fact her own wishes should not need to be so narrowly defined. Visiting the kingdom of the cats, whether this is taken literally or as a flight of fancy, shows her just how wide the world really is and that only she can decide what her future holds. By the end of the film she is transformed into a character who is full of confidence and a desire to explore the world on her terms.

The artwork and animation is suited to the fantasy plot. Early in the film we get a great sense of the city, using depth of action to create the sense of a fully realised environment as traffic and pedestrians fill the streets and pavements. When the film heads into the world of the cats there is a shift to a much simpler style. There are some nice touches such as the cat palace being decorated with fish. The designs of the cats are also great, with a unique style for all the central characters. Another fun detail showing the Chinese and Egyptian cats gathered at the king’s court. The King of the Cats is a joy every time he is on screen, with his odd-eyes and tufted fur. A fun film for children and cat lovers, with lots of heart and a plot that never lets up in humour and action.