Kiki's Delivery Service (1989) & Grave of the Fireflies (1988)

THE STORIES

Kiki's Delivery Service deals with the 13-year old Kiki who lives in a world where witches are commonplace and quite pleasant. As tradition dictates she must leave her home and strike out on her own, and so she heads out on a broom with her talking cat Jiji, and comes upon a cosy little town, where she takes up lodging with the local baker. She starts a delivery service to pay for the rent, but soon discovers that it's not easy growing up.

Grave of the Fireflies takes place during World War II, where we follow the young boy Seita who's forced to take care of his younger sister Setsuko, when their mother dies during one of the horrible firebombings. They struggle to find proper shelter and get enough food, and slowly they starve to death while the war rages on and destroys everything around them.

THE REVIEWS

What do these two films have in common? Kiki's Delivery Service - a fluffy film about a teenage girl, clearly made for a pre-teen girly audience, and Grave of the Fireflies - a brutal depiction of what happens to simple civilian folks during war. The answer is: Very little. The interesting part is not how similar they are, but how different they are.

After watching Kiki's Delivery Service (for the first time) I was trying to come up with something to say about it, but I was drawing a complete blank. What can you say about a film that wants to accomplish so little, and completes the mission in such a subtle way? On the other hand, the themes of Grave of the Fireflies seem almost too big, to squeeze into a mere film review.

When Kiki heads off into the world she's got every possibility at her feet. Seita, on the other hand, begins his story by finally succumbing to hunger and malnourishment, and the entire movie plays out as a flashback after he's dead.

Animé fans hardly need a lesson in how varied the genre can be, but rookies (and I count myself among them) could be surprised that a film like Grave of the Fireflies can exist in animated form. But perhaps we shouldn't be. The animated sequences in the The Wall (1982) were quite grotesque, and certainly left an impact, and there's also a film like When The Wind Blows (1986), which shares some themes with Grave. No, animated films can definitely tackle big subjects, If we let them.

Kiki's Delivery Service, though, is sweet and fluffy through and through. What surprised me the most was that Kiki meets almost no opposition along the way, Sure, she loses her powers at some point, but it's pretty obvious that's just a bump in the road. Otherwise she just runs around with a smile on her face, happy that everyone is treating her so nice. I kept thinking something dark would happen, or that the story would turn a corner, but it never did.

Providing the polar opposite, Grave of the Fireflies feels almost too real. Seita and Setsuko must watch their entire town be obliterated, then they lose their mother. She didn't just disappear in the rubble, no Seita gets to watch her mutilated body, wrapped in bandages, beyond any help, with only more suffering to look forward to before death. And that's just the beginning, then it gets worse. So much worse.

The horrible images of war are both heartbreaking and beautiful, and painted in exquisite detail. None of us are strangers to images of war. We see it every day on the news, and through countless feature films, documentaries and other venues. The real power of Grave of the Fireflies lies in what comes after. The parts we never see on TV.

COMMON GROUND

Kiki and Grave both come from Studio Ghilbi, so it's not surprising that they have some identical DNA. From 1989 and 1988, respectively, both films have an almost timeless quality about them. They could have been made in the 40's for all I know. Perhaps that's just the nature of good old-fashioned hand-drawn animation, and if that's the case, why have all the major studios switched to CGI? Just look at that beautifully rendered European-looking town in Kiki, or the disturbing sight of Japan burning in Grave. These images have a certain unmistaken cartoon realism to them - if that makes any sense. The images look more cartoony than the real world and more real than the cartoony world. It's a perfect balance.

The films also feel timeless in terms of their stories: Was there ever a time when young girls didn't need to know how to stand on their own two feet, and was there ever a time when the brutality and futility of war wasn't important to dwell on? Grave in particular is so effective that every every soldier, general and politician - anybody who plays a part in the war machine, however small - should be forced to watch it - Clockwork Orange-style for full effect.

And finally, both films would also be excellent starting points for someone trying to get into Animé. Kiki for younger kids, Grave for the older kids and the grownups. They are both very square, they have a loose episodic feel, and no complicated narrative threads. They rarely rely on straight up cartoon magic. Even Kiki, despite the fact that she's a witch and flies around, is surprisingly grounded (pun intended).

BLURAYS

Kiki's Delivery Service and Grave of the Fireflies have just had their debut on English Blu-ray, courtesy of Studio Canal. They both feature excellent video quality, the original dialogue and English dubbing (don't bother with that), and assorted extras in the shape of storyboards, interviews and other bits.

It's definitely worth getting these types of animated films in high definition, so that every detail in the drawings can be fully appreciated.

WRAP-UP

It's nothing short of fascinating that animated films can tackle two so different subjects. I guess that's an attitude brought on by a Western upbringing. I blame my mother.

I'm slowly familiarizing myself with the works of Hayao Miyazaki and other Studio Ghibli films as they arrive on Blu-ray. Kiki's Delivery Service and Grave of the Fireflies were both excellent stops on this journey, and even though there isn't much meat on Kiki's bones, I still had fun with the film. It's harmless, but doesn't feel like a waste of time. Grave is an entirely different beast, but one it's absolutely essential to suffer through.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thanks to StudioCanal and Edith Chappey for making this review possible.

Whisper of the Heart (1995)

We start 2012 with another Studio Ghibli release. Whisper of The Heart, directed by Yoshifumi Kondo, is one of the second tier films - meaning that it's not from the master Hayao Miyazaki himself, but still up to his standards in every way.

This is the completely ordinary story about a completely ordinary young girl, Shizuku Tsukishima, who lives in a crammed apartment with her parents and her older sister. It's the story about how she falls in love, struggles in school, thinks about her future, and dreams big dreams. It begins when Shizuku spots a reoccurring name in all the books she borrows from the library. Of course she can't help but dream up a perfect guy to go with that check-out history, but she's constantly distracted by a local boy, who always seems to catch her at the most inconvenient moments.

The life of a teenager may look utterly simple, even pointless at times, especially when viewed from the vantage point of experience and age. But we all know there's nothing simple about it, when you're in it. Shizuku's world seems to overwhelm her with possibilities on a daily basis, and Whisper of The Heart aims for nothing more than to capture that sensation.

That means it's full of the kind of problems a teenage girl would have, from the mundane (getting chores done, fighting with her big sister), to the all-too familiar (embarrassing episodes in class), the lyrical (the mystery boy, her attempts to be a writer) and even the magical, with a few almost surreal flights of fancy. The film is never condescending. However small Shizuku's problems may seem in the larger scheme of things, they fill her life up, and the film treats them with sincerity and respect.

THE BLURAY

This high-def release from StudioCanal in England is quite stunning to look at, and of course features original Japanese dialogue, with English subtitles. The extras consist of storyboards, some background artwork, trailers and TV spots. There's a 30 minute montage called "4 masterpieces of Naohisa Inoue", plus an 8 minute featurette about the English voice actors. Cute, but not relevant, since the original language is obviously the way to go.

The story and the film are rooted in reality on almost every level, even the animation style is suitably straightforward. I'm tempted to call it simple, but anyone who has ever put pen to paper, knows there's nothing simple about drawing anything that just looks real. At times an almost magical realism bubbles to the surface, particularly in a sequence, where Shizuku pursues a cat, who appears to ride the train by itself. The only real departure from reality is during a few elaborate dream sequences, when the story Shizuku is trying to write comes to life. I saw some images from these scenes, before I had seen the film and couldn't quite make them fit into the plot. They make Whisper of The Heart look similar to some of the more famous Miyazaki films, which is a bit misleading.

Whisper of The Heart is deceptively uncomplicated at times. It delivers its simple, beautiful story with a bare minimum of bells and whistles, and perhaps this is why it's so utterly irresistible.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thanks to StudioCanal and Edith Chappey for making this review possible.

My Neighbours The Yamadas (1999)

THE STORY

This is the story about the life of the Yamada family. The father Takashi, who works too hard, the mother Matsuko, who is often distracted, the typical teenage son Nonoko, his little sister Noboru, and the grumpy grandmother Shige. We follow them on their way through life, through the good times and the bad, the ups and the downs, and everything in-between.

REVIEW

My Neighbours the Yamadas is not a film you should seek out, if you’re looking for something in the vein of classic Studio Ghibli masterpieces, such as Princess Mononoke (1997) or Spirited Away (2001). Literally every single aspect of this film is different from those landmark films. I’m going to say that again... Every single aspect is different.

There are two major issues at play here.

First of all there’s the style of the animation. To call it simplistic would almost be an understatement. What we’re dealing with here lies somewhere between stick figures and children's drawings. Apparently the story was originally a series of simple comic strips, and that shows. Many scenes play out with the characters surrounded by white space, while a few lines illustrate the room around them. The more complicated locations are often filled out by using sound, with peripheral characters as grey shapes that barely move. Then there’s the restrained color palette, resembling watercolors, rather than traditional colorful animation.

On an artistic level I can definitely appreciate this style, but at the same time I often found it distracting, because the animation never makes any effort to look the least bit real, while we’re expected to view the characters as real people, and the situations they go through as real life. That’s an unsolvable equation.

The second big issue is the story. There isn’t any. Well, perhaps that’s not fair. What I mean is that this is merely a series of disconnected vignettes or sketches. There’s no overall plot, just a collection of situations, divided into random chapters, with nondescript headlines. The situations primarily deal with the traditional family fights we’re all familiar with, and most of them are grounded in reality, but the film embarks on a few selected flights of fancy as well. Some scenes are funny, some are merely goofy. There are some sweet, gentle observations, side by side with bigger issues. In one scene the parents fight about house work, in the next the son races to pick up the phone, when his little sister announces that there’s a girl on the line, while his mother and grandmother attempt to listen in. That sort of stuff, but then suddenly we get a scene like the one where the grandmother puts on a hard-hat and picks up a bat to go out and yell at the local motorcycle gang!

Does the film succeed? Absolutely! It perfectly captures the bittersweet nature of family life, and it does so in a decidedly unique style. Did I enjoy the film? No, not really. The animation style put me off, and the lack of a coherent story made the film hard to sit through. Despite a few good chuckles and a handful of awwws, this was a very episodic and uneven experience for me.

FINAL THOUGHTS

My Neighbours the Yamadas was not my cup of tea, but I can definitely see how some viewers could appreciate the simple style of the animation, which removes all bells and whistles, to focus squarely on the characters and the story.

If nothing else, there’s a certain comfort in knowing that your family is as crazy as all the other families out there. Including the animated ones.

Acknowledgements

Thanks to Optimum Releasing and Edith Chappey for making this review possible.

Laputa Castle in the Sky (1986)

INTRODUCTION

Laputa: Castle in the Sky is the first feature from Japanese animation powerhouse Studio Ghibli, and the third feature from its master Hayao Miyazaki, and if you have no idea who or what I’m talking about, rest assured that this is a good place to start.

The story is set in a kind of alternate reality. Alternate, but not that farfetched. It’s a place where Jules Verne would feel at home. A place where man rules the sky, much more so than we do even today, but at the same time it’s a place where technology can co-exist with a magical sense of adventure.

STORY

Young Pazu lives in a picturesque mountain town and works in the local coal mine. One day an unconscious girl floats down from the sky and lands, literally, in his arms. The girl, Sheeta, is being chased by a number of nefarious people. A group of pirates, the military, and some shady government suits. But why? It's all got something to do with the blue crystal she carries on a chain around her neck, the same crystal that appeared to make her almost weightless when she fell from the sky.

Pazu brings Sheeta to his shack and the two of them quickly connect. Alas, there’s no rest for the wicked, or the profoundly innocent for that matter, and soon bad guys show up at Pazu’s doorstep to get their hands on Sheeta, and more importantly, the crystal. And so our heroes run, and the adventure can begin.

What follows is a perilous chase at breakneck speed, which takes the young couple across the mountains, through the mines, and most importantly into the air. Meanwhile we learn about the legendary flying castle of Laputa, and we learn that Sheeta may know more than she’s letting on.

REVIEW

There’s something kind of comforting about this movie’s combination of wide-eyed innocence and a darker, deeper motif. It’s a juxtaposition mirrored in one of the memorable images from the film: As we watch a giant battle airship emerge from the clouds we’re filled with a sense of wonder and awe, but moments later the fascination gives way to a disturbing question: What could this deadly machine be used for?

The reason I find this comforting is that it reminds me that a film can be more than one note. These days, mostly for marketing purposes I guess, it seems like every film gets a simple label - but you can’t put a simple label on Laputa, because it’s more than just one thing.

There’s the magical adventure, the search for the titular castle, which takes us to the skies on a wild ride, but there’s also the dark mystery behind Laputa, the sinister government plot, and the questionable characters that take part in both. There’s the action aspect, full of elaborate chases and battle scenes. Next to that, though, there’s the subtle and tender relationship between our two young heroes - something we can almost call love.

As the story progresses we continually switch between opposites, in a very satisfying way. One moment we get scenes like the one aboard the pirate ship, when Pazu and Sheeta find themselves the unlikely partners of that shady bunch, and Pazu is put on lookout duty in the crows nest. Of course Sheeta sneaks up and joins him, and as they cuddle up together under a warm jacket, they share their hopes and fears for the future, while all the stone cold pirates listen in on the intercom with misty eyes.

We also get truly chilling scenes, like the one where the shady government agents have captured Sheeta, and she’s shown the remains of a wrecked robot that fell from the sky, the clue that told the government Laputa might be real. The robot looks like the ones we know from the old Fleischer Superman cartoons (mirrored as well in Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow (2004)), and we get the feeling that any moment the giant metal creature could wake up and tear everyone to pieces.

Slowly the mystery expands and the true scope of the story is revealed. When we finally arrive at Laputa - I'm sure that's not a spoiler - the place looks breathtakingly beautiful, and yet sad. The theme about the dangers of over-reliance on technology, or perhaps that technology will inevitably destroy us all, creeps into the story, and once again the Jules Verne inspiration becomes clear. Remember Captain Nemo’s musings on the maturity of Man and his inability to handle the sophisticated power-source that pushes Nautilus effortlessly through the water?

Despite several story lines and a sometimes complicated backstory, the film very rarely has to resort to cumbersome exposition, the images often speak for themselves, and despite the heavy themes, the film itself seems light on its feet.

Needless to say the animation is gorgeous. Every time I get my hands on one of these old school hand-animated films I'm amazed at the artistry on display. I watch with bated breath as a metal monster claws its way to freedom through a sea of hand drawn fire, or when a flying fortress is blown into a billion pieces, which falls to the ground, each meticulously guided by a true artist with nothing but pencil and patience. But the quiet moments deserve some recognition as well. Whenever we’re flying, across the vast beautiful sky or through billowing clouds, I’m in awe. THIS is what animation was created for - to make the mundane magical, to bring fantasy to life. I hope this type of old school animated movies never go the way of the cave paintings. Computer animation can be a wonderful thing, poetic and beautiful even, but hand drawn animation can do something truly unique.

BLURAY

Laputa: Castle in the Sky is released in a Blu-ray/DVD combo by Optimum Releasing in England.

The disc features both the original Japanese audio, with English subtitles, and an English dubbed track. Of course you should always go with the original track, but sometimes the dubbed track can be useful when you watch a film the first time. Yes, I know, purists will probably consider it blasphemy, but I’ve had experience with this. I couldn’t get through more than 20 minutes of Satoshi Kon’s Paprika (2006), the first time I saw it. The story was too complicated and the visuals too dense. When I gave it another shot, I chose the English track, and suddenly it was much easier for me to take it all in. When I go back to the film, I’ll definitely use the Japanese track, but I needed the English dub to get all the way through the first the time.

The disc also features some storyboards, promotions videos and some interviews. It’s quite brief, but I found the 3-4 minute clips of Miyazaki explaining his inspirations for the story to be just what I needed.

As for the image... Well, I have to say, this Blu-ray looks absolutely stunning! The images are clean, with great colors, but they didn’t seem to be digitally manipulated to obscure all the organic flaws of classic animation, they were all right there, in crystal clear high-def. Admittedly animation is a very forgiving genre, when it comes to Blu-ray or DVD, but for a hand drawn film from 1986 this seems perfect to me.

I do hope Optimum gets around to releasing Spirited Away (2001) and Princess Mononoke (1997) on Blu-ray soon. I'd sure love to revisit them.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Laputa: Castle in the Sky is a lot more accessible than other Ghibli films I’ve seen, like Spirited Away or Howl’s Moving Castle (2004). It feels more classic in nature, and less weird. I'm not sure today's overstimulated kids can sit still long enough to make it through this film, but they should.

Laputa: Castle in the Sky is a beautiful film, both in terms of its images and its spirit. You can’t say that about many films these days.

Acknowledgements

Thanks to Optimum Releasing and Edith Chappey for making this review possible.