'The Boy and the Heron' by Hayao Miyazaki Review: An astonishingly beautiful work of art

To tell the truth, I did in fact doubt Miyazaki with his return to directing, with what was supposed to be his final film. Now in his old age, many expected that this would be the final film released under his directing credit, and for the most part this was a believable assumption to make given the statements made by both Studio Ghibli and Miyazaki himself. It held the appearance, and has for a while, that the director and animator was finally done, that the world had finally grown too fast and modern for his liking, and that he was finally preparing to settle down and fully retire. Though I doubted this, this is a creative, a man that could've retired decades ago but chose not to, and that comes with the creative mind of an artist. One that is never finished creating, always coming up with new ideas and new ways to display stories to the world. There are no doubts that Miyazaki is on another level with the ways he tells stories, no doubts that he is a master when it comes to the style of his art. And those beneath his wing tend to be following close in skill. But there is something to not forget: Studio Ghibli itself has been on a series of total screw ups in recent years, with the things it has attached its name to being far from what Miyazaki would ever approve of. Remaining quiet and hard at work, it seems he put that all aside and ignored it, working instead on his own ideas. It is said that Ghibli allowed its works to be listed on Netflix, which is true if you are for some strange reason still subscribed to that mess; though the additional context as to why now makes a lot of sense: they wanted to finance The Boy and the Heron.

This is by far an incredibly costly film to release. A film that goes far and beyond in the modern animation world. Where typically every studio, Netflix included, seems to be pursuing the fastest and cheapest animation possible, to the point where quality seems to be a thing of the past. A rarity these days in any form of animation. Anime is utter trash at this point. Western animation is stuck in stick animation and bean face stylisation. It's all rapidly falling downhill, but Miyazaki has now put this entire industry to shame with The Boy and the Heron by sticking true to what animation is about. So much so that I have no idea how people can even consider watching the rubbish that gets released today after seeing something like this. This is a film that reminds us of what animation should be. How stories should be told in this manner. Pushing aside the mess and cheap production and instead sticking true to the idea of it being a form of art. The handmade frames of animation with the painted backgrounds that themselves are utterly beautiful. To watch The Boy and the Heron is to look back at a better time for this creative world, to remember a time in which this industry (filmmaking entirely) wasn't purely for profit, and that there was pure love for the craft. And to add to this is a story of the fragility of life itself, the beauty and the horror of it all. To accept the flaws of it all and push forward as people. Finding reasons to enjoy it still. A big reflection on how everything seems to be these days, and how easy it is to want to escape and find a way to reject it.

If you're already a fan of Ghibli and know of Miyazaki's works, then you already know this is review of praise, one that doesn't need to tell you to go and watch this. You already know. Though, this may feature some spoilers from here on, so keep that in mind.

As is the case with many of Miyazaki's works, they take place in a world before the chaos of the modern world, where the luxuries of smartphones, computers, and the Internet are yet to exist. Sometimes they mix the fantasy with reality, combining two elements of storytelling into one to create metaphors and display a broader narrative that reflects something within the characters, perhaps the idea of change, the struggles of war, or the childhood innocence that comes with growth. Many of his films detail a world during which the Second World War is taking place, or something of the likes. Mixtures of steampunk are thrown in to produce some aspects of industry and technology, but far from advanced to the point of holding too many similarities to our reality. His worlds are detailed, rich in species of various humanoids, holding spirits and demons, landscapes far and wide of different biomes. They show us the beauty of our own world in the process, as it's clear many are referenced from it. The Boy and the Heron is no different, it is a film that shows the struggles of a young boy during the Second World War, in which his family are forced to leave the city after his mother is killed in a fire.

Very quickly on the boy, Mahito, discovers a strange interaction with a wild heron that made the pond home. This deepens into a near haunting style of attraction as the heron continues to show interest in him, eventually starting to throw out words that tease, screaming of how he's wanted, how his mother isn't dead. It's a series of scenes that border the horror genre, to be honest, as the heron begins to shift its form around him and start growing various humanoid features, starting with new eyes and teeth within its beak. It's a pretty nasty look, one that implies the heron is actually a thing of evil and something to not be trusted, to which Mahito immediately assumes it's an act of hostility and creates a bow and arrow in attempt to hunt it down and kill it. Mahito's character is one of a quiet nature, but holds a lot of courage, for a protagonist he's a pretty interesting one given his hard life but refusal to let the world beat him down. He's riddled with trauma in the form of revisiting the night of his mother's death, the panic and screams as he dashes through the flames in the city. His story is tragic. I think he works well in this sort of story, which is typical of a Ghibli film given they tend to show characters in pivotal moments of their lives. Often children on the cusp of learning some sort of important life lesson that pushes them into an area of maturity.

Mahito soon discovers a story from the heron that details a lineage that leads to him, one of a mysterious tower that is found in the woods that supposedly his grand-father built, shortly before going missing. It's his curiosity and want to hunt down the heron that takes him there, to which he enters another realm, a space that is full of mystery. A universe much like his own reality, but with different types of animals and humanoid figures. Even before this part, the film has already blown our minds with incredibly backgrounds, beautiful paintings that show such detail. The natural landscapes of the countryside, the beautiful colours and patterns, even the beaten-down and old houses that have chipped-off pieces of wood on them. The film's attention to minor detail is astonishing, and I can't imagine how many hours went into creating such frames. You can pause this film at various moments and find yourself scanning over the beauty of it all, realising that the film is made traditionally, with texture on the paper and areas of pencil markings on it. I love this so much, the old way and signs of how the film was made, allowing us to get a little glimpse at the process in real time.

I saw this film in a small cinema in an old building in the worn streets of Old Tbilisi. A building that once was a home, now turned into a co-working space, cinema, and cafe. The room could barely fit in twenty people. I couldn't pause the film, but I found myself making connections to the old streets here, the architecture and the beauty of the buildings that had seen better days, but held signs of being used, still lived in and appreciated. Huge doors and knobs, patters in the archways and windows. Balconies of wood coated in overgrowth from flowers and various trees. Miyazaki had crafted his fantasy worlds from the beauty of our own, through the moments of beauty he himself had witnessed throughout his lifetime. A true artist in that regard. To be honest, I expected far worse from the film. I felt that Ghibli would've changed by now, losing its way even with Miyazaki's word and passion. I expected less traditional art, and an aged artist with a stubborn nature now succumbing to change. This was not the case one bit. The Boy and the Heron is a beauty in all aspects. And now is the time to talk a little about the narrative.

The Boy and the Heron is a film about loss, and the darkness found within reality. For many, if we could, we'd pursue a world void of all that sadness. And that is what has taken place within this story. Mahito's grand-father left the world he knew behind with the discovery of a strange rock from space, to which took him to another world. He crafted it in attempt to reach perfection, to have peace and no longer hold that horror of reality. Though it's clear that such attempts to reach perfection are impossible, and that's actually okay. The idea of loss pains us, torments us. And the horrors we inflict on each other are things we'd all wish to avoid and escape. Miyazaki essentially is saying that this world is full of evil, it is horrible, it is full of filth. But there is something about it that makes it worth living in: the people that are good. The friends and family we hold dear to us, the community we have as we take care of each other. That aspect of tradition that gives us purpose and directs us even through the hardships. This means a life that also accepts death. Something Miyazaki is telling us all straight as he enters that part of age where death is something not so distant anymore. He's reflecting on life itself, the beauty of the world. Those little flowers and tall grass in the fields, those natural views of sunlight in the window, and the old homes and forgotten ways.

While many assumed this would be his final film, it certainly does feel as such. It is a piece of art that says everything about life that it needs to. And it's a beautifully told story in the process. Though, I don't believe the artist will ever be content and finally hang up the pencil and brush. He'll always have something to say, always have something to draw, and he'll absolutely keep doing so for as long as his body will allow. The Boy and the Heron may very well be his last finished film, and if it is, it's a beautiful final creation.