Many of Miyazaki’s male characters carry a curse of some sort, an expression of internal conflicts: Ashitaka’s toxic arm in Princess Mononoke, Marco’s pig face in Porco Rosso (Kurenai no Buta, 1992), Haku’s magic indenture to Yubaba in Spirited Away (Sen to Chihiro no kamikakushi, 2001), and Howl’s imprisoned heart in Howl’s Moving Castle (Haoru no ugoku shiro, 2004). These are the most obvious examples, but even the seemingly happy-go-lucky Lupin in Castle of Cagliostro (Rupan Sansei Kariosutoro no shiro, 1979) and the remarkably mature five-year-old Sōsuke in Ponyo (Gake no ue no Ponyo, 2008) bear traces of a gravity unusual for protagonists in movies aimed at a young audience. Although these choices make aesthetic sense in helping to create more intricate and compelling characters, they also suggest a view of the world that goes beyond simple family entertainment.
Curses in Miyazakiworld are not limited to human beings. In one of the more memorable speeches in the blockbuster ecofable Princess Mononoke, the cynical monk Jiko-bō states, “The whole world is under a curse!” The traumatic landscapes of the film support that statement as we see woodlands destroyed, skies shrouded, and the god of the forest brought down with a rifle shot. Spirited Away makes the curse on nature even more specific: the enigmatic character Haku is not actually a human but a river god, and it is his river that is “cursed.” Another river in the film is so polluted that its god has been turned into a “stink spirit,” signifying both spiritual and environmental pollution.
Even in Miyazakiworld’s most apocalyptic expressions something always endures. In his animations of lost or unreal worlds the director presents catalysts for hope and action, not simply vehicles of escape. In this regard Miyazaki may be said to engage in what theorists David L. Eng and David Kazanjian label “a politics of mourning”—neither passive nor resigned but activist, concentrating on “what remains” rather than “what is lost”: loss motivates more than memorials; it also motivates art. Along with Takahata, Toshio Suzuki, and the dedicated staff at Studio Ghibli, Miyazaki would go on to make films that inspire action when confronting loss, community when dealing with absence, and resuscitation in the face of ruin.
Susan Napier, Miyazakiworld (2018)
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