The Boy and the Heron is a Masterpiece

After a decade-long hiatus, Miyazaki returns at his most unhinged, raw, and possibly his most profound. The Boy and the Heron is a must-watch for every anime fan. While the films that he creates don't feel like modern anime, Miyazaki's style, attention to detail, and pursuit of subtlety helped create maybe the most perfect filmography in the history of animation and cinema, while inspiring the generation of animators currently creating our favorite shows. Father Time has yet to take its toll on the overall quality of Miyazaki's work, but it has undoubtedly affected the ideas that lie within it. Structurally, The Boy and the Heron plays out like a traditional fable, as we follow Mahito's journey through the fantastical as a way of understanding his grief, while the idea of a traditional fable works as a simple description of the film. Miyazaki erodes the edges of that structure by embracing a fever dream mentality and lets a career's worth of thematic ideas find their way into the film. Simultaneously, this film is part coming-of-age story, fallout-of-war film, whimsical adventure, creative artist at the end of their career, and a discourse on the value. All fitting ideas for the original title of the film, How Do You Live? Mahito's journey is one of grief and discovery. The death of Mahito's mother signals the death of his innocence, something that war forces upon its victims. In the film, Mahito is literally called to ruminate on the death of his mother by the Grey Heron. The Heron eventually brings Mahito into the Tower, a gateway to a fantasy world created by the Grand Uncle, where he is given the choice to stay in the fantasies of innocence or embrace reality and his lack of control within it. In many ways, The Boy and the Heron reflects Miyazaki's filmography. Structurally, Mahito's journey into another world mirrors that of Chihiro in Spirited Away. In similar fashion to the moral ambiguity and scope of Princess Mononoke, The Boy and the Heron asks a course worth of questions and doesn't give an easy answer to any of them. In a more literal outgrowth, The Boy and the Heron is like an alternate view into My Neighbor Totoro. In Totoro, Satsuki and Mei move to the countryside because their mother is sick. Here, Mahito moves because his mother has already been killed. The whimsical fantasies of Totoro find their way throughout The Boy and the Heron, but are always met with a dark juxtaposition. No better example of this than the birds that devour souls. A horrifying picture that we come to understand only happens because there's nothing else that those birds can eat. I started this video off by saying this film is Miyazaki at his most unhinged and raw. In many ways, the narrative here is liquid. Story beats blend together like a mirage as Mahito struggles to come to terms with the reality that his mother is dead. Fittingly, during the most traumatic moments in the film, the character outlines blend together within the frame, the picture taking the shape of the narrative form and becoming liquid. The purpose behind this free-flowing state seems to be the encouragement of ideas. The film starts with a muted color palette, echoing the repressed emotions Mahito feels. Once we enter the fantasy world of the Grand Uncle, colors explode from the screen, and it does so as Mahito starts to overcome and understand his grief. Like so much of Miyazaki's other work, war looms in the background. The death of Mahito's mother is caused by a World War II bombing. The impact of war and violence are the seams that stitch together so much of Miyazaki's filmography, and it's no different with his latest film. Another aspect of the film that is solely Miyazaki are the creatures, and no one draws up creatures quite like he does. The birds within this movie range from unsettling to hilarious throughout the run. The Gray Heron marks that evolution, as it starts as the indifferent messenger of death, to later becoming the bumbling, incompetent bird who eventually helps Mahito along his journey. The terror of the sequels within this film are really only matched with the work Miyazaki and his team put into Princess Mononoke and the Boars. It is almost like after 80 years and over 10 films, Miyazaki was finally able to fully let loose on his animal designs. He also doesn't miss the chance to include some cuteness as well. Many have made note of how Mahito represents a younger Miyazaki, but you can also find so much of him within The Grand Uncle. For decades, The Grand Uncle tried to create the perfect world, doing everything he could to create a place that is beautiful and peaceful. However, he failed in removing violence from that world. He is fearful of what will happen when he can no longer create. If you spend your life working towards something, how could you be expected to stop? Miyazaki is unmatched in his field and has spent his entire life creating animation. Through The Boy and the Heron, Miyazaki takes a look back at the things he created and understands the fear of not being able to do so anymore. There has always been a duality to his work, that the profound ideas he explores cannot be solved through animation. Those complex ideas showing up in something like The Wind Rises and his love-hate relationship with the planes that his father made growing up. Through The Boy and the Heron, Miyazaki comes to realize that he doesn't need to be searching for a successor to try and make their own version of Miyazaki's art, but that it is important for everyone to look at the world in their own way, for everyone to go down their own path. The nexus of The Boy and the Heron is like two versions of Miyazaki talking to himself. A younger version of him starting down the beginning of his journey and the other reflective Miyazaki who is trying to come to terms with what his career means. A younger self learning to move forward and an older version ruminating on the results of never taking a break. The perfect juxtaposition to capture Miyazaki's nuanced career. Everything you look for in a Miyazaki film is here. Even with its more intense moments, it creates an atmosphere you wish you could step into. The film just wouldn't feel like Miyazaki without a slice-of-life perspective added in, and he creates those moments by holding the frame on characters completing mundane tasks. A signature of Miyazaki's work and one that is essential to his style. Holding on characters, maybe it's while they put on a pair of shoes or a shirt. These moments always allow the narrative to slow down, letting the audience stew in the ideas while bringing them into an unspoken connection with his characters. Here, the narrative demands engagement from its audience to find its ideas. A signature of Miyazaki's most profound works. We will never see another filmmaker, animator, and storyteller like Miyazaki, and watching The Boy and the Heron is a one-of-a-kind experience that no anime fan should miss. Thank you so much for watching this video. I hope you enjoyed it. It's not every day that the greatest creative comes out of a ten-year long hiatus to create such a profound piece of art like The Boy and the Heron. Miyazaki is for sure on the Mount Rushmore of anime creators, and it was such a joy to be able to watch this film and be able to make this video. Be on the lookout for more shorts and video essays to come, and hope to see you in the next one.