It's sometimes easy to forget that Studio Ghibli, the revolutionary Japanese animation studio, was founded by two men. The first, Hayao Miyazaki, has fostered a place in the hearts of audiences worldwide; his films exhibit a boundlessly imaginative evocation of magic and fantasy, of childhood wonder, of passionate pro-ecological and feminist ideology. His fans range from John Lasseter to Jonathan Ross and, in 2001, his film Spirited Away broke ground by being the first foreign film to win the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature.
Yet oft forgotten in these discussions is our second man, Isao Takahata, who, despite never reaching the same level of breath and popularity (at least in the West) as Miyazaki, is arguably equally instrumental to the studio's success. His first film for the studio, Grave of the Fireflies, was overshadowed by the popular My Neighbour Totoro, although it is now considered one of the finest films about Japan in World War II, and one of the finest animated films of all time. His other work is often equally impressive yet critically ignored; only Pom Poko, an oddball eco-fantasy about a group of shape-shifting raccoon dogs, has received an English dub.
However, I hope that his obscurity in the West will be lessened by The Tale of Princess Kaguya, which is on track to become one of my favourite films of the year. It's a masterpiece of spiritual animated beauty, whose exquisite hand-drawn aesthetic is matched by an astonishingly moving and humane story, filled to the brim with realistic and compelling characters.
The story begins with the hallmarks of a classic fairy tale. A woodcutter is harvesting bamboo in the forest, when a sudden beam of light draws his eye to one of the trunks. As he approaches a stem suddenly emerges from the ground in front of him, and unfolds to reveal a tiny woman sitting cross-legged among its roots. He takes it home to his wife and explains that he has been blessed from heaven with a tiny princess; she takes hold of it, and it suddenly transforms into a screaming baby. Without a second thought, the couple decide to raise the child themselves, for what else are they to do?
Only this isn't a normal child, it's one with an abnormally rapid growth pattern. Whenever "Princess" laughs, she grows, and it's not long until she begins playing with the local country boys, who affectionately name her "L'il Bamboo". Takahata treats us to a beautiful vision of accelerated childhood, which should be familiar to anyone who's ever had children. There's also a touch of Totoro charm to it all - Princess and her family lead a life of countryside humility yet they're far from unhappy, particularly when it comes to her exploring nature in a way only a child can. When chasing a pheasant through a forest or stealing from a melon farm it's the details which impress, such as a lingering "pillow" shot of a ladybird leaving its nest, or the wind making ripples in a tumultuous sea of trees.
Much of the appeal comes from the lovely animated style, consciously rougher than previous Ghibli projects but all the more charming for it. It's like a cross between woodblock and watercolour, with exaggerated, personal character designs fitting in seamlessly with realistic depictions of cherry blossom trees. The colour doesn't usually stay within the lines but that's fine, it's the vividness of life that matters, and its impressionistic elements are the icing on the cake; a brilliant sequence mid-way sees our heroine dash through the forest, and the trees turn ashen-grey, like they're drawn with charcoal, to show her distress.
The story soon develops into something recognisable when the father discovers a cache of gold and silks in the forest. He's determined to turn his makeshift daughter into a real princess, as he thinks that'll make her happy, so they leave for the city in hopes of never having to return to their old life. News spreads of the princess' beauty; when a wise man arrives to assess the girl he names her Kaguya-hime, which apparently means "princess of flexible bamboos scattering light".
This is all based on an old piece of Japanese folklore, The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter. I'm unaware of how popular this is in Japan, or how many revisions and interpretations it has received over the years; all I know is that it feels like a typically subversive Ghibli interpretation. Kaguya may be from the moon but she's a very human heroine, who can stand proudly alongside characters such as Kiki and Chihiro as a young girl realistically struggling with her imminent ascent into adulthood. It really stood in stark contrast to Cinderella, whose principal character's desire to marry a beautiful prince is shown to be shallow and dated; much of the film is concerned with Kaguya having to deal with five aggressive royal suitors, whom she deals with in humiliating, empowering fashion.
In my mind this is what animated films should be. Tender, funny, almost heartbreakingly sad - its climax is an emotional tour de force - and with a timeless appeal for children and adults alike. It might not necessarily be the most innovative Ghibli work in terms of story and structure but it's still magical, and deserves nothing less than your full attention.
★★★★★
