Flying high: The Boy and the Heron
Hayao Miyazaki’s most recent film ‘Boy and the Heron’, not only carries his trademarks of intense symbolism and deep meanings but also acts as a tribute to his other films, and the creative world he has brought into existence. The plot is convoluted and confusing and - as always -the fantastical and magical aspects of Ghibli films, are undeniably prominent. It is set in WWI and follows the life of protagonist Mahito after his mother Himiko's death. He is forced to move to the countryside to live in his family's mansion house, which is inhabited not only by his new stepmother Natsuko but also by a mysterious grey heron. As the plot progresses, we see Mahito explore his new home and follow him as he sets on a path to other worlds filled to the brim with bizarreness, with the heron as his guide.
As is common in Miyazaki’s works, his use of characters of all shapes, sizes, and moral quandaries is abundant in this film. We witness the main character scarred by self-infliction and the trauma of his mother's death - as well as the heron himself who, although elegant on the outside, is revealed to be a malevolent goblin-like man hidden under his beak. Birds seem to be a fixture in this film, with hungry pelicans forced to eat the souls of those to be born and humongous parakeets whose delightful colours and adorable faces should not distract from their desire for human flesh.
As always, Miyazaki's films seem to ignore the concepts of pacing and space, instead taking a rollercoaster route of bewilderment. We follow him as he moves through this dizzying world and faces the challenges in front of him. However, within this whirlwind, clear themes of loss, grief, and eventually acceptance are shown - along with clear references to his previous films. Fire becomes a motif throughout the film just like Calcifer in Howl's Moving Castle and the warawara souls are reminiscent of the wood spirit kodamas in Princess Mononoke (both Studio Ghibli films). Along with this, the film has fairytale-like references, with a snow-white glass casket holding a dark-haired princess of the realm and Alice in Wonderland qualities, from Mahito following his stepmother through a dark hole into a magical world, to the myriad of tunnels he finds himself speeding through.
The film is practically drowning in symbolism but perhaps the main metaphors are the personal ones. Problems with the successor of Studio Ghibli are only becoming more serious as time progresses and Miyazaki only grows older. The commercialization of films such as Totaro is also causing the entrenched environmentalist and creative meanings in the films to be lost in the piles of stuffed toys and keychains. In a way, this turns The Boy and the Heron into an autobiography for its maker. Not only does it include his present problems, but it also refers to his early life. For example, his father -like Mahito - made planes, and his earliest memory is of seeing buildings on fire during WW2. This creates the film to be a culmination of Miyazaki's life as a filmmaker and his childhood.
The Boy and the Heron is a film that is as bizarre as it is cultivated, and as beautiful as it is menacing. It shows the value in art and endless iconography and is a masterpiece of animation and characters. It represents not only a journey past grief and towards acceptance but also a voyage through its creators' philosophies and life experiences.
Gwen Oaten, Year 12