The Drifting Classroom (1987) by Nobuhiko Obayashi

Based on the horror manga by Kazuo Umezu, “The Drifting Classroom” follows a group of International School students in Kobe after their classroom is lost in a time-slip. Shou (Yasufumi Hayashi) leaves home after arguing with his mother, heading out to school where he meets up with his other classmates. Not long into the school day the building begins to shake. At first believing it is an earthquake, the teachers and children try to remain calm as they assess the damage. However, looking out of the window they see that they are in a mysterious desert-like world. They are later threatened by aliens attacking the school. They must learn to adapt and survive in this hostile new environment, while back in Kobe the people speculate about the sudden disappearance of the school.

“The Drifting Classroom” is a chaotic, action-packed, children’s adventure film with dark undertones. It shifts rapidly from a spirit of light-hearted comedy as the children explore this new world, their familiar surroundings made unfamiliar as they are now filled with sand, and terrifying horror as giant insect-like aliens arrive to terrorize them. The film mixes in other elements such as survival drama as they elect a leader and try to work out how to live on the supplies available in the school. The young cast do a great job, bringing a youthful exuberance to their roles. The primary characters are Shou, Mark (Thomas Sutton), Ayumi (Aiko Asano) and the youngest Yu, but the supporting cast do a fantastic job in creating a sense of barely controlled chaos, such as you might expect in a school full of children in such circumstances. Obayashi’s direction is suited to this bizarre blend of science-fiction, horror, and adventure, with the sympathetic camera moving wildly in concert with the cast. The ambitious story, involving time-slips, other worlds, and aliens, is achieved with a blend of CG special effects, green screen, and stop motion creature work. It is a story full of twists that is endlessly entertaining.

While the premise of the film, a school caught in a timeslip, seems like it would lend itself to a relatively slight fantasy drama, there is a dark subtext to “The Drifting Classroom” that sets it above a simple throwaway adventure tale.

If you wish to avoid spoilers, please check out the film before reading further.

Part way through the film, Shou finds a memorial in the desert with the names of all the teachers and pupils he is stranded with. Other hints in the film, such as a character telling Shou’s mother that “children always go to the future”, and the slow pull out shot at the end of the film, indicate that in fact these children are marooned on a hostile post-apocalyptic earth, devastated possibly by nuclear war (an earlier scene sees one adult shouting “they finally pushed the button”). The film doesn’t shy away from death, with many students perishing due to a lack of food, and the aforementioned memorial. It confronts it’s audience, primarily children, with these harsh realities about life. The filling of the school with sand is an incredible visual metaphor for the timeslip they have gone through. They are literally trapped in the sands of time, left abandoned by previous generations thoughtless or reckless actions. Though there is hope at the end of the film, it is slight, with the children abandoned to their fate on this inhospitable planet, presumably ruined by those that came before. The ecological, anti-nuclear message is never made explicitly, but it is clearly there. A fantastical adventure with a troubling message about the world we leave to future generations.

Dreams (1990) by Akira Kurosawa

An anthology of short films based on Kurosawa’s dreams. The first story sees a young boy (Mitsunori Isaki) accidentally stumble across a fox wedding, despite the warning of his mother not to go out in the rain. Later he is told that he must kill himself with a knife, or return to the land of the foxes to hand back the knife. The second story revolves around the “Doll Festival” as the young boy finds a group of living human dolls that promise to restore a devastated peach orchard. The next story is a group of mountaineers trapped in a blizzard attempting to reach their camp. The fourth part sees a soldier returning from war, confronting the ghosts of his fallen companions. In part five, an artist (Akira Terao) enters the paintings of van Gough, conversing with the famous creative (played by Martin Scorsese). Part six concerns an extinction-level nuclear disaster and part seven sees a man speaking with a demon in a post-apocalyptic landscape. The final part has a man come to a rural “Windmill Village”, where he converses with an elderly resident about the importance of living a natural life.

“Dreams” is a peculiarity in Akira Kurosawa’s filmography, seeing him tackle styles and settings that are rarely seen in his other works. It is interesting to see his take on the survivalist drama, disaster movie, war film, science-fiction, fantasy, and surrealism, making you wonder what these could have been if they were each spun into full length stories. It is also novel to see Kurosawa work with greenscreen effects and monster makeup, still showing a creativity after a long career of samurai epics and historical dramas. Each section is around fifteen minutes, with just enough time to establish characters and theme. Kurosawa based these vignettes on dreams he had seen and they have an ephemeral quality, set in unreal environments where logic doesn’t necessarily flow as normal. These stories are adrift in space and time, the characters existing only in that moment, without a wider world around them. This limitation in time allows them to expand on creating a visual and audio spectacular, without worrying too much about character development or twists. There is a focus on the emotional rather than the logical, with elements left to the audiences interpretation. The direction is striking, particularly in the use of colour. Red appears prominently throughout a number of sections, representing both joy and suffering. The operatic score beautifully captures each scene, reflecting the grand visuals, varying from traditional instrumentation to popular classical music. The easiest reference point for the film would be “Kwaidan” (Kobayashi, 1964), with its individual stories imbued with history and tradition. There are also echoes of Andrei Tarkovsky, in the “Tunnel” episode and the final scene of trailing green fronds in the river.

Dream interpretation is a source of endless fascination to many people. While watching “Dreams” there are two questions that come to the fore. Firstly, where the dreams come from; and secondly what they signify. The answer to both of these may be the same. The dreams depicted seem to come from the fears and hopes of Kurosawa, some with a more direct connection to personal experience, and others seen through a metaphorical lens. Several themes appear to tie together certain sections. Tradition and history, and the loss of it, is a major concern. With the fox wedding and Doll Festival, we see Japanese folklore brought to life. The final section in which the elderly villager laments modernity and the death of the old ways, brings things full circle from these earlier sections, old age speaking to youth about the importance of holding on to these “magical” notions and the old ways. Kurosawa is understandably also concerned about his work and perhaps even his legacy. The section about the mountaineers, perhaps the least transparent in terms of interpretation, may be representative of the creative struggle, while also speaking to the fear of death. And the section with van Gough gives us Kurosawa’s idealised creative, a man absolutely committed to his art. Darker concerns also permeate the film, notably death and human extinction brought about by our own stupidity. The military man, one of the most affecting sections, speaks to the senseless waste of life in war; while the sections detailing nuclear holocaust speak clearly to the existential fear prominent in the post-atomic age. However, in the final scene we have again a hopeful note, that humanity might yet save itself from this fate, by embracing the environment, by returning to what we once held self-evidently important, namely living with nature rather than in a desperate struggle against it. “Dreams” is a film that reflects the hopes and fears of many people, a creative, surreal, vision that prophecies two potential futures for humanity.

Ponyo (2008) by Hayao Miyazaki

5-year old Sosuke (Hiroki Doi) lives in a seaside town with his mother Lisa (Tomoko Yamaguchi), his father captaining a ship that is not yet due to return to harbour. While playing by the shore one day he discovers a goldfish whom he names Ponyo (Yuria Nara). This is no ordinary goldfish however; Ponyo is the daughter of the goddess of the sea herself and has escaped from her father, the wizard Fujimoto (George Tokoro). She uses her own magic to turn into a human. Her transformation sees a great storm blow up around the town submerging many houses underwater and Ponyo and Sosuke set off to help.

Written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki, “Ponyo” is somewhat unique in featuring a young boy as its protagonist. It perfectly captures the joy and adventurous spirit of childhood, with Sosuke’s mannerisms both charming and fun while also giving the character agency and intelligence. The opening sequence of the film is an incredible display of the talented animators, with shoals of fish and marine species brought to life. What the film does well is in having a simple yet expressive style. The first introduction of Ponyo is a perfect example, her design consisting of little more than a pair of eyes and a mouth, yet still able to capture a whole range of emotions. Another of the film’s strengths is the sense of movement and momentum. Being set by, on and in the sea, we have waves rolling and crashing, rain pouring, and a constant sense of flow that helps drive the plot forward and adds visual excitement. This follows through to other elements, whether Lisa’s car that swerves around the road, or Sosuke and Ponyo’s childish gambolling, everything keeps your eyes fixed to the screen.

As with many Ghibli films, Joe Hisaishi again provides a memorable, light-hearted score, riffing on the theme song that plays over the credits. It’s hard not to find yourself humming the heart-warming tune after a few listens.

While the film is clearly pitched at a younger audience, with 5-year old protagonists, a story of magic, and plenty of humour, it treats them with respect. The story’s most clear influence is perhaps “The Little Mermaid”, with the story of a fish wanting to become a human and the love between Sosuke and Ponyo, but the film also has themes of environmentalism, self-sufficiency, the dangers of natural disasters, and the power of the ocean. At heart it is a story about humanity’s relationship with the sea. Ponyo’s restless energy seems to reflect the sea itself, as she rushes around, while Sosuke is almost a stand in for mankind. His affection for Ponyo shows us that we should respect and care for the sea. Sosuke’s bravery and kindness comes from him being a child and seeing clearly, as opposed to the adults around him, who have lost sight of what is important, succumbing to greed and laziness. Sosuke is not afraid of the sea, but sees it as a companion and something to be lived with as opposed to conquered. An incredible fairytale story with action, laughs and lots of heart.

A Whisker Away (2020) by Junichi Sato and Tomotaka Shibayama

Miyo (Mirai Shida), also known as Muge,  is a middle-schooler who seems to have boundless energy, her bright and cheery disposition masking a disatisfaction with her life and past family issues. She lives with her father (Susumu Chiba) and his new partner (Ayako Kawasumi) after her mother (Sayaka Ohara) left them both when Miyo was in primary school. Miyo also has a huge crush on her classmate Kento Hinode (Natsuki Hanae), but is unable to express herself seriously to him. Hinode is also dealing with family issues, putting on a brave face to the world. He confides his feelings in a stray cat, who he names Taro after a dog that died. Unbeknownst to Hinode, Taro is actually Miyo, who acquired a magical mask allowing her to transform into a cat. Things become serious when the mysteirous cat mask-salesman (Koichi Yamadera) offers Miyo a choice between remaining as a cat or giving up the magical mask.

Directed by Junichi Sato and Tomotaka Shibayama, with a screenplay by Mari Okada, “A Whisker Away” is an enjoyable family film, with magic, romance, and relatable characters. There is a fairytale feel to the story, with the mysterious cat salesman, a simple yet difficult choice for the protagonist, and elements such as the hidden city of the cats. This fairytale atmosphere is also emphasised in Miyo’s literaly rose-tinted view of Hinode, the screen blushing pink when she sees him. While the story follows a traditional narrative, it also smuggles in tougher themes that will resonate with some viewers. The separation of Miyo’s parents, their bitterness towards each other and the impact it has on Miyo, are depicted honestly. The film also does not shy away from issues of mortality, with the mask salesman attempting to steal the longer lifespan of humans by offering the switch to life as a cat. It also does a great job with the two leads, Miyo and Hinode, being typical teenagers in their inability to express themselves openly, resorting to either an exaggerated ‘brave face’ persona, or turning inwards. The supporting cast, even smaller roles such as Hinode’s older sister, are all given something of a backstory and personality, helping to make them more than just window dressing.

The art, animation and elemental effects all create a tangible world that also seems to echo the characters emotional states. The warmth of the sun, the dampness of the rain, are all palpable, and the subtle environmental details create a believable setting. Even the magical world of the cats is presented in a realistic way (although it is hard to see how cats managed to construct walkways and cable cars). The score, by Mina Kubota, is perfect for the film, blending eerie mystery when the cat salesman appears with the sentimental, romanticism of Miyo and Hinode’s relationship. The traditional fantasy elements in a modern setting is something that is reflected in the music, with various instruments and styles contemplating both the contemporary romance or the older, more mysterious, magical moments.

“A Whisker Away” is a film that bolsters a familiar teen romance story with more difficult themes of dealing with loss. The separation of Miyo’s parents and her ostracization by classmates is upsetting to watch and gives a deeper understanding of her over-the-top clowning as an attempt to deal with it. The film works well for children and adults in that sense, with a magical romance for younger viewers, while older viewers will latch on to the difficulties in introducing children to new partners, or being a new parent to a child. There is also a strong theme of being able to express yourself that runs throughout, both in the story of the children and the adults. It contrasts the relaxed life of a cat, with that of humans, whose lives are filled with difficulties. The cat salesman offers Miyo an easy way out, but one that will not result in true happiness. In order to get what she wants, she must face up to people and the world. A hugely enjoyable family film with beautiful animation and a story that is engaging for viewers of all ages.

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.