Another attempt at a post. Earlier this month was the 65th birthday of Hayao Miyazaki, Japan's premiere director of animated films. In response, Turner Classic Movies has been doing a spotlight on him and his work every Thursday night. I've been watching and taping, last night Mom and I sat down and watched
Porco Rosso and
Whisper of the Heart. By the end of the stretch, both Mom and I were about ready to bow low to the floor and chant "Miyazaki-sama..." This is not the literal truth, but we both had a marvellous time. Mom actually stayed awake for the whole nearly four-hour stretch, something I thought impossible. She might actually wrestle me for the tape.
Miyazaki's films are difficult to explain, but just about every one I've seen makes me want to grab the animation studios in America and smack them across the back of the head while yelling "Whatsamattawitchoo?" in a bad Italian accent. It seems like every animated film that comes out anymore in this country is about two things - packing the screen with as much computer-generated
stuff as possible, and making a lot of money. The story, if the script can be laughingly called one, is tertiary at best, and the 'art' of it is usually missing altogether. Disney, I'm pointing primarily at you. Bad mouse! Bad bad mouse!
In Miyazaki's work there is first and foremost a story, one that unfolds it its own pace. The characters may not always be complex or deeply explored, but you're usually left with the feeling that they're real people rather than stereotypes played for laughs. They may do silly things, but you're not usually laughing
at them. It's a humor of empathy rather than scorn. The rest of it is art. I have heard it said that Miyazaki-sama has a deep-rooted antipathy toward computer animation, and if he's overcome it at all then he uses it sparingly at best. Every scene is hand-drawn with patience and love, with an eye for beauty, and every so often he lets the movie relax for a moment so people can take a look. A quiet moment looking at a sunrise, an aerial view of a strange world, a moment of wonder rather than just another "wow, there's so much stuff here" two-second blip before the next action sequence.
I also like Miyazaki's tendency toward strong female characters. They're true strong females rather than feminists, they're doing what they do for reasons that make sense to them rather than out of a blind quest to 'prove themselves as good as any man'. The heroine in
Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind struggles to understand what has become of her world and to protect her people against the ravages of war. In
Spirited Away, the girl is simply trying to free her parents. They don't need to put down men to build themselves up, and they're not above accepting male assistance (or help from anyone else who can render it) when it's needed.
Anyway, that's my Miyazaki geek-out. As for myself, I'm spending my time trying to relax and recharge my spiritual batteries, not an easy task around Mom and Dad. Though I don't have any novelistic ambitions like Thom, I am trying to pick up writing again. It's been a while since I really sunk my teeth into a story rather than picked at it, but it's something that makes me feel really good when I can get it to work. I'm not looking for work yet, but that doesn't stop Mom from trying to look for me. Dad continues to drive us both up the wall with his geneology obsession. Supposedly he finished it years ago, but now he constantly goes over the records on the internet, checking to see if the temple work for all these dead people has been done. I doubt that he'll ever consider this project to be truly 'done', I suspect that he feels like his life will be worthless if he doesn't do this one (moronic) thing... Feh. If he wants to make that his tombstone, I guess that's his business.
