Sometimes you just need to cut back on the grit and cynicism. Sometimes you just want to see an idyllic, golden world filled with wonder, joy and happiness. For all those times, My Neighbor Totoro fully delivers. No, it didn't feel real. No, it wasn't an epic adventure. It was a pleasant ride through the ideal Japanese countryside - and I wouldn't have it any other way.
While the movie had a pretty strong, maybe even universal message, I felt it didn't resonate with me very much, probably because I wasn't the intended recipient. This is why I consider it more of a sweet journey through the happiness and magic of childhood than an aesop about family and nature. The writer managed to subtly pluck many of my emotional strings to make me experience both sadness and happiness as viewed by a child. He even left the matter of forest spirits ambiguous enough to make the viewer question the existence of Totoro - was it only a child's creation? Or did he really exist?
The animation is top-notch as usual for a Studio Ghibli production. The gorgeous, hand-painted backgrounds are what really does it for me, but special mention has to go to the tree-sprout scene, which made me smile in silent awe at the beauty of human creativity. That moment made me realize what a special position does animation have in the creative world. It's one of the more clean and unique conduits of human creativity for the silver screen, as you can directly translate all your ideas and emotions without limiting yourself in any way. Just, you know, pick up that pen, grab some paper, and draw. Draw what you imagine. Draw what you want. Just draw. If you do it right, everyone in the world will understand what you have to say, language and culture barriers be damned. And this is what I feel happened here. If I were to watch this production in it's native language without any subtitles or language help whatsoever, I'm sure I would still understand the plot, the characters and the entire sentiment lingering all over the film.
An Idyllic, Golden World
Sometimes you just need to cut back on the grit and cynicism. Sometimes you just want to see an idyllic, golden world filled with wonder, joy and happiness. For all those times, My Neighbor Totoro fully delivers. No, it didn't feel real. No, it wasn't an epic adventure. It was a pleasant ride through the ideal Japanese countryside - and I wouldn't have it any other way.
While the movie had a pretty strong, maybe even universal message, I felt it didn't resonate with me very much, probably because I wasn't the intended recipient. This is why I consider it more of a sweet journey through the happiness and magic of childhood than an aesop about family and nature. The writer managed to subtly pluck many of my emotional strings to make me experience both sadness and happiness as viewed by a child. He even left the matter of forest spirits ambiguous enough to make the viewer question the existence of Totoro - was it only a child's creation? Or did he really exist?
The animation is top-notch as usual for a Studio Ghibli production. The gorgeous, hand-painted backgrounds are what really does it for me, but special mention has to go to the tree-sprout scene, which made me smile in silent awe at the beauty of human creativity. That moment made me realize what a special position does animation have in the creative world. It's one of the more clean and unique conduits of human creativity for the silver screen, as you can directly translate all your ideas and emotions without limiting yourself in any way. Just, you know, pick up that pen, grab some paper, and draw. Draw what you imagine. Draw what you want. Just draw. If you do it right, everyone in the world will understand what you have to say, language and culture barriers be damned. And this is what I feel happened here. If I were to watch this production in it's native language without any subtitles or language help whatsoever, I'm sure I would still understand the plot, the characters and the entire sentiment lingering all over the film.
And I would be happy.