The Boy and The Heron sees Miyazaki’s imagination and whimsy at their peak. Breath-taking animation and the wholesome score.
From the very inception of Studio Ghibli, Hayao Miyazaki has made his indelible mark in animation with timeless classics that have universally crossed generational and cultural barriers by way of stories that continuously proved animation is much more than a genre meant to pander to children. Without a doubt he is one of, if not the, most important figures in animation cinema.
So, his return was anticipated with bated breath, particularly given how entrusting the future of Ghibli to his son bore so little fruit with “Earwig and the Witch”, a decision that forced the mastermind to come out of retirement with a supposed three film plan, starting with “The Boy and The Heron”. It feels fated that in the 10-year anniversary of the reclusive director’s original “retirement” Miyazaki’s return offers his most personal film yet, blending the fantastical with grounding elements inspired by his upbringing.
A young boy named Mahito, still reeling from the loss of his mother during the war in 1943, finds himself unable to cope with the life-altering changes of life as he must move to a new town with a new family as his father quickly marries Mahito’s aunt. Soon after arriving at his new home, the titular grey heron takes an interest in Mahito, in classic Miyazaki fashion, and calls upon the boy to venture into the old, crumbling tower amidst the woods surrounding the house, where Mahitos dives into a world shared by the living and the dead. Where death comes to an end and life finds a new beginning.
It feels almost pointless to discuss the beauty of any of Studio Ghibli’s works, but The Boy and the Heron is all the more a cherished tapestry of animation filmmaking in an age where classic 2D hand drawn animation is so rare. Every framed is filled to the bream with detail, colors, movement and quite literally magic. Miyazaki’s imagination so effortlessly and instantly creates unique but lived in world where every detail, every beat and every dialogue exchange between characters carry the brunt of the world building and effortlessly bring a sense of whimsy one so quickly takes for granted.
Part of that magic and whimsy is clear from how Mahito struggles in the real world to emotionally process the death of his mother, which gets pilled on by his father’s rapid marriage and the big move. In an age where it feels the world doesn’t stop for him, where the arduous reality feels unforgivable and it all is so hard on Mahito, who prefers to either sleep or silently sulk his problems away instead of talk, yet, once on this new world, charged with saving the little wara wara from dangerous pelicans and a fire witch from an army of giant machete-wielding parakeets, Mahito questions nothing and embraces the weird whimsy of Miyazaki, which for him feels all the easier to accept than anything happening in his life in the real world, a life he never asked for where his opinion seems to not be needed or wanting.
In this new world, Mahito arrives a fabled hero, the only one others can depend on, a task he feels all the more committed to take on as he couldn’t save his mother from the fire.
Sublime in every way from a visual and character standpoint, the film’s whimsy is all the more highlighted by Joe Hisaishi’s beautiful score, movingly taking us through the landscapes of this world but drawing focus to Mahito’s emotional process as his adventure parallels the ups & downs of growing up. Enabling Mahito the responsibility he so craved, the heron and his granduncle are invertedly helping him come-of-age, by way of saving his pregnant aunt so she can give birth to his brother.
Unsurprisingly, Miyazaki’s stories are imagination-filled whimsical adventures, but his underlying themes have always been of a mature nature. They’re what makes Miyazaki’s tales compelling intriguing and captivating, but in here they are the hyperactive element that perhaps what contrasts too harshly with his methodical pacing and busy messaging.
Similar to “Spirited Away”, “Howl’s Moving Castle” with ideas similar to “Ponyo”, “My Neighbor Totoro”, “Grave of the Fireflies” and “Kiki’s Delivery Service”: Mahito’s fantastical journey is filled with wonder, danger, humour wild concepts, but they are perhaps so many that the metaphors become somewhat vague and unclear as to what they offer Mahito as a process.
They are powerful parallels to his reality, and there’s an undeniable freshness to how enticing the answers are to obtain, Miyazaki refuses to spoon-feed them to the audience, but rather invites us to seek out the ambiguous meaning for ourselves. It doesn’t help that the film ends rather abruptly, feeling like some of the lessons and messaging of the core idea are left to fade as the credits roll to the sound of more of Hisaishi’s wondrous music.
THE BOY AND THE HERON sees Miyazaki’s imagination and whimsy at their peak. Breath-taking animation sweeps you off your feet and the wholesome score makes you soar. Can feel like a greatest hits tale, but Ghibli’s greatest hits are such for good reason.
FINAL GRADE: B+
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About The Boy and The Heron
A 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.
A semi-autobiographical fantasy about life, death, and creation, in tribute to friendship, from the mind of Hayao Miyazaki.
The Boy and The Heron comes to theatres nationwide and IMAX December 8.

Renato Vieira. 28.
Film Critic/Screenwriter from London UK
Masters Degree in Film Directing.
EIC of YouTube Channel “Ren Geekness”.






