how do you live?
Is Hayao Miyazaki's Last Animated Film 'The Boy And The Heron' A Triumphant Swan Song? Here's What The Reviews Say
I can only assume you are somewhat privy to the details surrounding this incredibly hyped animated motion picture and work of art. If not, then let's hyper speed through the details. Legendary Japanese animator and director Hayao Miyazaki retired, then unretired, just to make this movie. It was called "How Do You Live?" in Japan and got zero marketing before its release. Like, no trailers, artwork, images. Not even a plot summary. It opened, and is making good money, purely based on the name of the man behind the project.
It's being released in America as "The Boy and the Heron." It looks like it's going to win some awards this year and here's what critics thought of this unexpected and mysterious project. The film comes out on December 8, 2023, and stars the voices of Santoki Soma, Masaki Suda, Kou Shibaski, Aimyon, Yoshino Kimura and Takuya Kimura.
The premise
Inspired by Genzaburo Yoshino’s novel "How Do You Live?," "The Boy and The Heron" centers on Mahito Maki (voiced by Soma Santoki), a child reeling from the loss of his mother to a fire in Tokyo during World War II. In an attempt to move on, his father (Takuya Kimura) moves them both to her hometown, where the boy is told his aunt (Yoshino Kimura) will be his "new mother." Reeling from all this loss and change, Mahito is drawn to a strange heron and a curious tower that is rumored to be cursed.
The attention to detail remains staggering
If nothing else, "The Boy and the Heron" is utterly gorgeous, Miyazaki’s most visually complex and impressive movie. The set pieces and the world building are dazzling, particularly in the opening scene of a boy running through the streets of Tokyo during a huge fire, the people in the background fading into shadows in the smoke. While Ghibli movies have always looked beautiful (for the most part), this one feels like a swan song for the animation industry as a whole: An imagery-first experience that goes long stretches of time with no dialog, in which characters move slowly and quietly, exquisitely employing the concept of "ma" (or empty space) in a way that puts the mainstream American studios and Miyazaki's Japanese peers to shame. It's a rare film that’s wholly original and aesthetically pleasing, yet also quite intimate and moving.
After so many aesthetically impeccable epics, it’s easy to take for granted the craftsmanship on display in Miyazaki’s animated masterworks, but the exquisite backgrounds with meticulous details in “The Boy and the Heron” remind us once more that what Studio Ghibli does is world-building of the highest order. There’s a richness in texture, color, and shading that’s never less than precise, lived-in, and awe-inspiringly gorgeous, even in the simplest of shots of an empty child’s room or the dilapidated entrance to a secret abode.
The sheer spectrum of emotions that Miyazaki can evoke through this hand-drawn form puts his many copycats to shame. Mahito’s attempts to smother his grief are evident in the way he tenses up and bows when he tries to hold it together in front of strangers. When he catches his father and his new wife kissing, he crawls back like a bug, a moment that elicited heavy laughter from the enthused audience. The heron of the title is a combination of beautiful and monstrous, a very Miyazaki move as "No Face" can attest to (there’s a moment involving the gutting of a giant fish that feels like it came straight from "Akira.") There are evil parakeets - yes, really - who move like hired goons and sharpen knives sinisterly, as well as adorable ghost-like creatures called the warawara that I desperately need plushie versions of. The shift from the real world to the Wonderland that Mahito literally sinks into allows the animators to greatly expand their color palette, from the subdued nature of wartime Japan to a near-magisterial realm. There are too many moments where you watch the film and just go slack-jawed at what you’re seeing. Even something as simple as the grass in the wind feels special.
It might not be for kids, and even some adults
Whereas Yoshino's novel directly explains big ideas to children in ways they could easily understand and relate to, I'm not sure what kids will make of "The Boy and the Heron." Beyond basic concerns about violence and frightening imagery that will almost certainly earn the film a PG-13 rating, Miyazaki barely attempts to explain anything outside of a few key moments. There are just so many weird twists, unstable realities, and complicated metaphors that it's hard enough to fully comprehend on first viewing as an adult, let alone a child. Of course, sometimes children can understand things better than adults can.
But for all of their artistry and joy, Miyazaki’s films have always reflected a rather dim view of humanity, one typically expressed through his characters' greed and penchant towards ecological suicide. They’re the ecstatic creations of a bitter man who’s devoted his time on Earth — often miserably, at the direct expense of his loved ones, and for reasons that not even he entirely understands — to making things of unsullied wonder. “The Boy and the Heron” is structured as a head-on collision between those seemingly incompatible mindsets.
The “real world” in this case is a harrowing place touched by tragedy and war. The movie opens with the fire-bombing of Tokyo — an intense scene that recalls that early Ghibli masterpiece directed by Miyazaki’s late colleague and mentor Isao Takahata, “Grave of the Fireflies.” Mahito hears the sirens and rushes downtown, where his mother is trapped in a burning hospital. Unable to save her, the boy is sent by his father, Shoichi (Tokuya Kimura), to live with his aunt, Natsuko (Yoshino Kimura) — a dead ringer for his late mother — in a remote house surrounded by nature.
There’s also the fact that Mahito is deeply angry for most of the movie, in the same ways Miyazaki is. Miyazaki is more than a curmudgeon: In numerous interviews, he appears to be cynical and even deeply nihilistic. He’s a lifelong environmentalist who often gives the impression that he does not believe in the long-term survival of our species in the face of technological and industrial advancement. That theme is especially evident in his film "Princess Mononoke," where humans (in an on-the-nose metaphor) murder a forest god in the name of progress. Mahito doesn’t exhibit any hatred for modernity or technology, but he does hold on to the comforting world of the past.
TL;DR
Hayao Miyazaki's last film is a fittingly peculiar send-off.
If this tale of fantastic worlds, trickster birds, and bone-deep grief is indeed the anime legend’s final movie, he’s going out on a high note.
A lovely and bittersweet reflection from an old master.
[JoBlo's Movie Network]
“The Boy and the Heron” is beautiful and strange, the way all movies should be and precious few are.
It’s a mature, complex masterpiece, weaving together the director's past, present, and future — a beautiful enigma that promises to be worth the wait.
I’m not sure where "The Boy and the Heron" will eventually fall on my list of Miyazaki favorites, but there were moments that took my breath away.
[Image: YouTube]
