The Boy And The Heron Review: Another Miyazaki Triumph
The work of animation master Hayao Miyazaki is lined with many recognizable themes across decades. His pacifism as derived from the horrors of World War II, his fierce defense of the natural world against the onslaught of man-made structures, and his tight balance between the grotesque and the whimsical are all familiar to fans of Studio Ghibli as a whole as well as films such as "My Neighbor Totoro," "Princess Mononoke," "Spirited Away," and "The Wind Rises." That latter film, released for Oscars consideration in 2013 by Walt Disney Pictures, was once intended to be Miyazaki's final film before retirement. But you can't keep a god-level filmmaker down, thankfully, and so a decade later, we have Miyazaki's latest film, "The Boy and the Heron." If you know Miyazaki's work even on a surface level, you'll see how "The Boy and the Heron" plays with familiar tropes. But just as unsurprising, you'll be met with a wonderful, tender, and wistfully sad fantasy that burrows into your soul like the master's best works.
Inspired by the novel "How Do You Live?", "The Boy and the Heron" is set in the mid-1940s and begins with a devastating fire that destroys the lives of many, including Hisako, the mother of the 12-year-old Mahito Maki. Mahito is understandably haunted, not just by the loss of his mother but by the profound horrors of war that robbed him of a crucial part of his family. His father soon takes Mahito out of Tokyo and into the countryside, where he's remarrying Hisako's younger sister, Natsuko. Mahito, already on the cusp of being a teenager, is frustrated by the upheaval in his life and is soon given a chance to enter a fantasy world courtesy of a mysterious and strange talking heron.
The rest is worth discovering on your own, not because there are jaw-dropping plot twists aplenty but because to properly experience a Hayao Miyazaki film, you have to give yourself over to the experience instead of spoiling yourself. As much excitement as there was online when Studio Ghibli announced the return of Miyazaki for at least one more feature (he is apparently not officially retired, and may yet work on another film or two; fingers crossed), there was as much mystery when the studio eschewed any serious marketing for "The Boy and the Heron." The American studio GKids, which is distributing the film in the States, has at least showcased a teaser and the English-language dub boasts an A-List cast including Robert Pattinson, Willem Dafoe, Florence Pugh, and Christian Bale. But this is the rare case where knowing more won't aid you in the experience. It's a new Hayao Miyazaki film. You shouldn't need to know more than that to know that you want to see it.
An effectively sad fantasy
"The Boy and the Heron" does not sidestep more fantastical elements even before Mahito enters a more fantastical plane. When he moves to the countryside, he's greeted by a gaggle of elderly maids whose outsized features recall that of Yubaba, the witch from "Spirited Away." And Mahito is compelled by the presence of a manmade tower in the middle of the forest that appears to have been blockaded by mystical forces; as strange as it is, it's not in his imagination. Even in the real world, even far from the horrific explosions and attacks of the Pacific War, Mahito's life feels like something from a surrealistic fable. Throughout "The Boy and the Heron," we are greeted by such unforgettably weird sights, or that of a slew of frogs swarming over Mahito's body.
But more than anything else, "The Boy and the Heron" stands out because of the intense and relatable heartbreak at its core. Mahito's mother dies within the first few minutes of the story, and that loss is made all the more profound by how much struggle Mahito has in processing the tragedy. As remarkably weird as Miyazaki's films can get, they also have the ability to cut through the whimsy with a shocking blend of realism. At one early point, when we see Mahito channel his grief into violence, it's both unexpected and in keeping with how the character can barely come to terms with his new situation. The core battle that Mahito has, in having lost one mother and being forced to accept a new one (and unlike in American animated films, his father's new wife is not an evil stepmother archetype), translates so effectively to a world of fantasy without ever sacrificing its sadness.
Thus is the power of Hayao Miyazaki. Studio Ghibli as a whole, but especially this auteur's work, stands as a pillar of animation because they are constantly pushing the medium forward. It's not just that "The Boy and the Heron" is a lushly and proudly hand-drawn animated film at a time when hand-drawn animated films are a rarity in the States. (That said, "The Boy and the Heron" is being presented on IMAX screens, and no doubt will look remarkable in that large-screen format.) It's not just that "The Boy and the Heron" is able to take a handful of familiar themes from Miyazaki's past work and utilize them in ways that feel fresh and new. And it's not just that this film is mature in its presentation of maternal heartbreak. Miyazaki remains one of our greatest filmmakers because he utilizes the medium of animation to tell intensely personal stories that open up our eyes to grand new worlds, strange new characters, and unforgettable images. "The Boy and the Heron" is one of the year's best films, and hopefully not his last masterpiece. Nobody does it better than Miyazaki.
/Film Rating: 9 out of 10