Anime 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.
Anime Mixed feelings, lifted from the forums
My Neighbor Totoro is Hayao Miyazaki's love letter to the Japanese countryside, and I'm not sure how I feel about that.
On the one hand, the idealized portrayal of village life is pretty nice, to say the least. On the other hand, it so clearly is an idealized portrayal that I had trouble believing in it. It didn't feel real, it felt like what somebody else wished were real. It felt like Grandpa saying "kids these days, why back when I was a boy, those were the good times..." Granted, Miyazaki does a lot of this anyway, but it never came across like that to me as strongly as it did here. I didn't see "the Japanese countryside, " I saw "the Japanese countryside as filtered through Miyazaki's mind." Ironically, the fantastical elements, the spirits and such, were probably the most believable thing about the movie.
I also found Satsuki a less compelling protagonist than, say, Chihiro, for all the latter's whininess. The way she and Mei and their father took to said countryside like a fish to water just felt a little too neat, like a little struggling would've been more believable. I've always been taught that stories are about conflict, and it feels strange to see a story with so little conflict in its first two thirds. Reminds me of complaints about Twilight and Left Behind.
I dunno, maybe all of this is just because I can't imagine myself, personally, fitting in in the country. I'm not particularly fond of the big city, but I have no real love for farm life, either. I can't see society's transition from 90% farmers 10% other to 10% farmers 90% other as being a bad thing, no matter how pretty and nice-smelling grasslands and woodlands are. Maybe it's my own lack of empathy. Maybe I've just gotten too damn cynical and skeptical in my old age (21), expecting utopian settings to turn out to be lotus eater machines or part of a Truman Show Plot. And the animation is gorgeous, even if the scene with the sprouts just made me think "huh?" when it was over. Maybe I just need to wait for a niece or nephew to watch it with. Whatever the case, though, Totoro still left me feeling like I'd intruded onto something intensely personal.