SummaryA young boy named Mahito
yearning for his mother
ventures into a world shared by the living and the dead.
There, death comes to an end,
and life finds a new beginning.
SummaryA young boy named Mahito
yearning for his mother
ventures into a world shared by the living and the dead.
There, death comes to an end,
and life finds a new beginning.
The Boy and the Heron is richly self-synthesising and achingly sentimental, collating artistic motifs from across the Miyazaki filmography and nakedly articulating the hopes it places in the next generation.
As you leave The Boy and the Heron, you may feel strangely bereft, emptied out in a way that I suspect Miyazaki both intends and hopes to console us against.
It’s a grand culmination of both Miyazaki’s extraordinary body of work and of a film that gathers, like a flock, or a symphony, so many of his trademark obsessions.
As someone who loves Studio Ghlibi, "The Boy and the Heron" by Hayao Miyazaki is one of my all-time favorites. Miyazaki's way of telling a story makes me feel like I'm part of a beautiful adventure. The friendship between the Koji (the boy) and the heron is so touching, and reminds me of the special bonds we can have with animals.
What makes this movie extra amazing is how Miyazaki creates a whole world that feels so real and so enchanting. The animation is stunning, making me feel like I'm right there with Koji and the heron, exploring the wonders around us. And the characters feel like friends, with their feelings jumping off the screen.
But what really sticks with me is the message of kindness and understanding. Koji's adventure teaches me about the importance of caring for others and appreciating the magic in everyday life. "The Boy and the Heron" isn't just a movie to me, it's a beautiful reminder to cherish the connections we have and to see the wonder in the world around us.
While this dream-like warble of a swan song may be too pitchy and scattered to hit with the gale-force power that made “The Wind Rises” feel like such a definitive farewell, The Boy and the Heron finds Miyazaki so nakedly bidding adieu — to us, and to the crumbling kingdom of dreams and madness that he’ll soon leave behind — that it somehow resolves into an even more fitting goodbye, one graced with the divine awe and heart-stopping wistfulness of watching a true immortal make peace with their own death.
It’s a grand culmination of both Miyazaki’s extraordinary body of work and of a film that gathers, like a flock, or a symphony, so many of his trademark obsessions.
The Boy and the Heron is a valuable new addition to this unique film-artist’s canon, about confronting a terrible sadness and finding a way to replace it with wonder and joy.
Animação bastante diferente das que estamos habituados a ver. E não é infantil como dizem, infantil são as animações estadunidenses. Os cenarios são bem valorizados, cada ação é bem detalhada, as metáforas são marcantes. E tudo é muito bem trabalhado, desde ao som, fotografia, roteiro, sendo difícil encontrar algum defeito no filme. É um dos poucos filmes que eu toparia assistir mais vezes.
Hayao Miyazaki geralmente não erra, e temos aqui um filme tecnicamente lindo, com suas cores típicas, e aquela velha mensagem humana. Mas não tenho como deixar de notar que chega a ser redundante em sua filmografia: protagonista tentando se encontrar, relações familiares problemáticas, um lugar mais idílico como escape, personagens secundários estranhos e alguns fofos. Talvez a academia veja como homenagem mesmo. Mas embora tenha momentos criativos, a meu ver o roteiro não trás grandes novidades.
I grew up on anime, at least the anime that was slowly making its way into the US in the early 90s. Multiply copied VHS, those fever dream dubs early morning Saturday on SciFi. Then I found manga, learning the language, finding a rich media tradition and enjoying it more than most anything Western media has provided.
Ghibli films are a big part of what I love about Japan. Castle Of Cagliostro remains a personal favorite (I know, but it is really a Ghibli film), and all the fan favorites, but I love Whisper Of The Heart and the Cat Returns. I love relatively more recent films, like Arriety and The Wind Rises. The last film out of Japan we saw in theaters that we enjoyed immensely was Shinkai's Suzume.
I'm qualifying all this to explain that I did not go into this film as an unwashed initiate, some rube that casually went into a theater thinking this animated film should be fun. I knew what I was getting into. My wife and I had to struggle to find a sub version playing in a local theater so we could enjoy the film as it was meant to be enjoyed.
We did not like the film, which surprised us more than anything else. Mostly because of the nearly universal praise the film has garnered. The more I see others praise the film, the more I wonder if I was just mistaken, that I am the crazy one. I'll probably see it again just to confirm or disabuse what I saw and heard in the theater.
I look at it like the Emperor's New Clothes. Miyazaki is a giant, this was to be his opus, and most of the reviews reflect this. So much praise is heaped on Miyazaki, it is as if people are afraid to say anything negative about the film.
To the meat of it. Know that I am stating opinions. Visually, the film is well crafted. More surreal in parts than other films, but that is not really a problem with me. I thought the motion blurring was overused in places, preferring cleaner lines in animation. The premise is fine, and the seiyuu were excellent in their performances.
I had no PROBLEMS with the story being heavily allegorical and non traditional. I don't need to be spoonfed a story, but I freely admit I do not go out of my way to watch or rewatch films that rely on art instead of structure. The story leans heavily into a knowledge of Japanese customs, history and mythology. Knowledge I have, but a person can know something and still be confused as to what is happening while watching the film. And I think this film was made that way on purpose, like Miyazaki wanted you to realize what something meant only after you are done watching. Everything felt very deliberate in how it was made. Honestly, I wanted to watch a film, not put together a puzzle. However, I want to be clear, while I do not care for this kind of storytelling, I do not want these opinions to color what I think made the film an objectively disappointing film.
The two major complaints I have are very simple, something I feel are important in how films are made: music and pacing. I think Joe Hisaishi is one of the greatest composers who has ever lived, earning his place next to John Williams or any other composer of that magnitude. I own and regularly listen to many of his scores. He brings films alive like few can. And the music for this film isn't just the worst he's ever made, it might be one of the worst collection of music for any film. That is, when there is music. For a 124 minute film, there are massive stretches of space with no music. Then when the music plays, we are lucky to get a few single notes from a piano. From the man who brought us Merry-Go-Round Of Life, there was no dynamics in this score.
The worst offender of the film was the pacing. There are long, LONG, stretches of nothing. Any editor worth their salt should have cut about 30 minutes from this film. Yes, the animated scenery is pretty, but then it keeps going. The purpose of a scene is to move from point A to point B. This film doesn't do that. It wants you to appreciate the scenery and forget that there should be a story there. And Miyazaki does that plenty in his other films, but always with restraint, with a focus on showcasing art inside of the frame of a story, rather than making the art the point of the film.
Which is what I think is the problem. It is an animated arthouse film. It wanted to evoke feeling rather than tell a story. And it looks like a lot of people just wanted those feelings, because a lot of people liked this film. I was looking forward to watching a story and was disappointed.