The Boy and the Heron plays like a Studio Ghibli greatest hits: A little Howl’s Moving Castle, a little Grave of the Fireflies, a lot Spirited Away.
THE BOY AND THE HERON
LONDON FILM FESTIVAL REVIEW
Try as he might to convince the world (and himself) otherwise, it’s clear at this point that Hayao Miyazaki cannot be stopped. Initially billed and marketed as his last ever film for Studio Ghibli, The Boy and the Heron was going to be the legendary director’s swansong. Well, not anymore it seems.
Despite being a certified grump that so often appears to hold distain for his own job, when Hayao Miyazaki himself announced not only that he won’t be retiring, but he’s actively pitching up back at the Ghibli office, you just know he won’t be going anywhere any time soon. However, now that The Boy and the Heron is no longer Miyazaki’s curtain call, how does this affect the film’s quality, if at all?
In 1944, during the Pacific War, twelve-year-old Mahito struggles to settle in a new home after the passing of his mother. Lost and grieving, life takes a strange turn for the young boy when a talking heron informs him that his mother is still alive. Journeying into a magical new world through an abandoned tower, it soon becomes clear that Mahito’s life will never be the same again.
Whether he’s actually happy about it or not, the universe is surely delighted that Hayao Miyazaki remains steadfastly in the game. After having a bit of a turbulent time quality-wise over the past few years, Studio Ghibli have needed a boost for a while now, so to have one of its founders and the very cornerstone of the company not only back but delivering something of The Boy and the Heron’s high quality is as pleasing as it is impressive.
A little bit Howl’s Moving Castle, a little bit Grave of the Fireflies, a lot Spirited Away, with dashes of so much in between, The Boy and the Heron plays like a Ghibli greatest hits, pulling from almost every corner of the studio’s enviable back catalogue to offer one of their finest efforts in some time. Understandably, arriving in the twilight of Miyazaki’s career as it does, the film feels like quite the retrospective piece, with elements and quirks throughout that will be instantly recognizable to anyone with even a passing knowledge of either Ghibli or Miyazaki’s work.
Familiar though it may feel, The Boy and the Heron is nevertheless as wildly creative and as staunchly original as anything we’ve seen from Studio Ghibli in many years. With every inch of the screen bursting with life, love, humor, and uninhibited imagination, this is a true work of art that once again proves beyond any doubt that traditional, hand-drawn animation is as important to the medium now as it has ever been.
The fact that this incredible level of artistry comes from paintbrushes, pens, and pencils in an age of CGI omnipresence is truly awe-inspiring, and if the purpose of Hayao Miyazaki’s state of un-retirement is to keep these traditional forms of animation alive, then more power to him. Whether it’s the blazing grief of the film’s opening, the quiet pastoral brushstrokes of Mahito’s country home, or the wild splashes of color that bring his magical alternate dimension to life; craft, creativity, and magnificent weirdness populate every one of The Boy and the Heron’s frames.
Bonkers in a way only a Hayao Miyazaki tale can be, The Boy and the Heron certainly takes its time getting going, as it methodically sets up both its characters and the world around them, but when it does kick into gear, there’s no stopping it. At once cute, bewilderingly beautiful, and surprisingly grotesque, the film’s visuals take you on a mesmerizing journey deep into the kind of fully flesh out fantasy world we’ve not seen from Studio Ghibli since the days of Howl’s Moving Castle and Tales of Earthsea.
Whether it’s creepy grey herons, man-eating parakeets, or cute spirit-like white blobs (that feel like the most Ghibli creation ever), The Boy and the Heron is stuffed with the weird, the wonderful, and the disturbing. It’s the kind of inventive and outrageously eccentric world building that had marked Ghibli out from the animation crowd for so long, and one that The Boy and the Heron brings back at a time when it appeared the studio had lost its magic touch forever.
Within this swirling whirlwind of visual magnificence, however, The Boy and the Heron still finds time to deliver both emotionally and narratively. Engaging with themes of mortality, grief, and acceptance, this may well look like a cute, child-friendly fairy-tale adventure, yet there’s so much more to it than that, as Mahito’s journey from losing his mother to venturing into the magical, afterlife-like world layers up the emotion and subtext in a distinctly Miyazaki way.
Sure, the plot is far more erratic and far less refined than Miyazaki classics like Spirited Away and Howl’s Moving Castle, and the overtly Ghibli nature of it all will make it an extremely disorientating experience for those not versed in the studio’s unique storytelling approach. Bizarre, abstract, subversive, grotesque, and often horrific; make no mistake, despite its bright, whimsical appearance, this is certainly not a kids cartoon, nor is it a particularly appropriate first introduction to Studio Ghibli for the uninitiated.
From the fiery, distressing opening scenes that feel reminiscent of Grave of the Fireflies to the horror-inflicted moments that pepper Mahito’s wonderland to the existential musings that underpin the entire narrative, The Boy and the Heron is a lot to take in. For many, it will be too much, and it’d be hard to blame anyone that feels overwhelmed by the dense, dark, deranged delights that Miyazaki has to offer, but stick with it and it may surprise you.
For the rest of us, The Boy and the Heron may not represent the best Studio Ghibli offering ever, yet it very much feels like the most Hayao Miyazaki film ever, and a truly spellbinding accumulation of a life’s work; one that proves beyond any doubt that the old grump has still got plenty of gas left in the tank.
Whether he’s actually happy about it or not, the rest of us should be ecstatic that Hayao Miyazaki is back and not likely to go anywhere any time soon. A little Howl’s Moving Castle, a little Grave of the Fireflies, a lot Spirited Away, The Boy and the Heron plays like a Studio Ghibli greatest hits set, and for those attuned to the studio’s unique style, it’s hard not to love every gorgeously bonkers frame of it.
Rating: 4.5 out of 5
NEXT: How Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse Changed Animation Forever
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.
