Lord Spencer

First planned as a training short for younger Studio Ghibli staff members, Ocean Waves eventaully expanded into the first movie from the studio not directed by Hayao Miyazaki or Isao Takahata. Instead, an outside director, Tomomi Mochizuki (who would go on later to direct the excellent House of Five Leaves), was brought along with support from outside studios such as Madhouse Studios. This results in a movie that doesn't quite nail the Studio Ghibli mark of excellence despite being quite good on its own merits.

The story is told from the perspective of Taku Morisaki, a high school student in Kochi, who remembers the last day of high school when he started falling in love with Rikako Muto; a transfer student from Tokyo. Complicating that relationship is that Yutaka Matsuno, his best friend, also falls in love with Rikako. While this love triangle forms the basis of the drama, it does not fully dominate the movies. Instead, it spends more time focusing on creating three-dimensional portraits of these high school kids growing up into more complex adults.

Yet, by not having the same space as other Studio Ghibli movies, and with a notably smaller budget, you don't get the depth of characterization of something like Only Yesterday, which means the movie can get a touch melodramatic at times to accelerate the plot. Also, it doesn't have the visual splendor of the other films despite its best efforts to portray the city of Kochi.

It might not be fair to judge this film, which technically was made for TV and not designed as a full feature, against the masterpieces of Studio Ghibli, yet that would be more disrespectful to the movie. After all, it is a very good movie even if it can only be considered a Low Tier film in the Ghibli pantheon.

Hayao Miyazaki's Porco Rosso feels like a call back to the adventure days of his earlier works such as Lupin III, The Castle of Cagliostro, and Future Boy Conan. It is one of the most straightforward films by him, and that's both a reason it retains a cult favorite status among Studi Ghibli fans and why it is less well-known compared to his more seminal movies (My Neighbour Totoro, Spirited Away, Howl's Moving Castle).

Porco Rosso is the story of an ex-Italian WWI air pilot, cursed to look like a pig, who works as a bounty hunter in a fictional version of the Adriatic Sea; a place where pirates run amok and sporadic islands run themselves with little to no government. What is curious about Porco's, the story's hero, curse is how uninterested the movie is in dealing with it. There is no explanation about what cursed him and why, and as far as we know, we don't see if the curse was ever resolved by the end. What it does is provide a clear visual cue to the watcher that Porco is out of place in this world, which carries with it a deeper meaning in the movie, but more on that later.

Originally pitched as a short-ish film to be shown on international Japan Air flights, I do not doubt that the adventure and action angle of the movie was first and center in its development. Here, we see Miyazaki at his best in crafting action scenes and beautiful vistas; showcasing his love of aircraft and flying in some visually stunning scenes. Yet, he also takes the time to pay respect to the idea of craft in an excellent section that showcases another Miyazaki heroine taking control of her destiny and leading the repair of Porco's airplane.

For most viewers, and indeed myself at first, I think Porco Rosso will always be a straightforward adventure story. For some, they like to analyze the between-war period the film is set in and its very brief depiction of the rise of fascism as further proof of Miyazaki's pacifism. That may be true, but that's not the deeper meaning I alluded to earlier.

For me, the real curse on Porco is not that he was turned into a pig, but that he was somehow unstuck in time. As things and people changed around him, he sat there secluded on his island, and his talent, while the world was moving forward. The Adriatic Sea was always going to change, and yet it wasn't always clear that Porco would change with it.

By the end of the movie, it is not clear if the curse was ever lifted from him, but it becomes clear that the place he lived in and the people he knew all irreversibly changed. What we do know is that we watched another brilliant Studi Ghibli film, filled with excellent animation and memorable characters, cementing its place as another Tope Tier film.

I always thought that Isao Takahata’s Only Yesterday is the least known of Studio Ghibli’s “Great” films. That it is the least well-known is inarguable; it was considered too intrinsically Japanese and so was only released in the English language in 2016 (25 years after its initial release). However, my opinion of it as one of Studio Ghibli’s greatest movies is probably not as widely shared, and I can understand why. On the surface, this is a typical slice-of-life story where a woman finds romance and fulfillment in country life outside the hectic city she always knew. The gimmick in Only Yesterday is the frequent flashback scenes where the woman, Taeko, remembers her childhood days.

Yet, it is not as simple as the basic synopsis might suggest, as is usual with Takahata’s work. In exploring two time periods, the movie uses distinctly different Animation styles. In the past, it showcased Taeko’s world in a classically soft Animation style, filled with exaggerated movements and Ghibli-esque animated faces. Also, the past scenes have unclear boundaries, suggesting the memory-like nature of those scenes. In contrast, the present-day scenes of Taeko are super-realistic Animations, with an almost excessive eye for detail. It is an animation style, unlike anything we have seen before (or since). Here, we must consider the safflower processing scenes in which the film showcases how lipsticks are made from the result of its harvest. It is a brilliant scene that Takahata indulges in which has no plot purpose, but in my opinion, is pivotal to grounding the film in reality.

Still, this stylistic masterstroke by Takahata in using a dual art style is not the only reason I consider this a great film. It is strange to me that Studio Ghibli considered this film too Japanese when I actually think it has a universal appeal, which Takahata must have planned since he did not use traditional Japanese songs for the farming scenes, but opted for Hungarian folk songs; giving the film a place-less feeling. It then becomes not only a film about Taeko's past and present or nature vs. city life, but a movie about the grind of everyday life and the connections we have with our past and the present. I cannot but see myself in Taeko, looking for something worthwhile to harvest in my life, looking for something that justifies the promises and hopes of my youth.

Finally, the movie’s ending, which happens in the credits, can either be interpreted as a corny and unnecessary scene, or a masterpiece of direction. I happen to think that it is the latter, which is why I consider this a Top Tier Studio Ghibli film. It is a juxtaposition of the two styles that could only work in an animated film, and it showcases how the power of our past can propel us to our future.

Considering the esteem and cultural reputation of My Neighbor Totoro, as well as the large fandom around it, it is amazing to consider it struggled to get financed initially. In fact, it would not have been made had Ghibil's star producer, Toshio Suzuki, not linked it with the much different (and quite bleak) Grave of the Fireflies.

If I try and watch the movie while being as distracted and uninterested as possible, I could understand why it was a tricky proposition to pitch the film. Its a slow, sometimes pondering film about two girls moving house and missing their mother. Not much "plot" happens in the movie, with even the titular Totoro appearing little, and doing little when he appears. You could watch the movie this way, and if you do, you would be watching it wrong.

It should be a litmus test of sort, watching My Neighbor Totor and engaging with it being a proof of humanity at some level.

Here is a movie that, if you remove your cynical adult self that was battered by life's miseries, will transport you into the viewpoint of childhood through its own lens of Mei and Satsuki. Its a movie about the BIG feelings of children and how they navigate the world around them. A movie where the Totoro creature can represent almost anything you want it to represent, including the pure imagination of children coping with life.

Its pastoral colors and brilliant soundtrack bring the Japanese countryside to a life that transcends the country, and becomes the backdrop of childhoods everywhere. I remember seeing Totoro's as a child, and I hope to keep on to that memory, to keep the value of empathy and life. For both what it does and represents, My Neighbor Totoro is a Top-Tier Ghibli film.

P.S: Remarkably, the My Neighbor Totoro play by the Royal Shakespere Company at the Barbican center (London) turned out not only good, but exceptionally brilliant. I was mesmerized when I watched it, and I am amazed at how it both equals and sometimes exceeds its source.