The Boy and the Heron (2023)

Listen to this post:

Is there anything in the world more full of hope and wonder than a Studio Ghibli film directed by Hayao Miyazaki? Perhaps that’s why fans were so sad when Hayao Miyazaki announced his (most recent) retirement back in 2013, and even more overjoyed when he reversed his decision (yet again) three years later and began working on The Boy and the Heron (Kimitachi wa Do Ikiru ka/How Do You Live for those who prefer the Japanese title).

Supposedly Miyazaki’s swan song – a fitting term, seeing as how birds are so central to the story – the film tries to recapture the magic Studio Ghibli – and the great director himself – is known for. In every way that matters, it absolutely does.

via YouTube

The Boy and the Heron, written and directed by Miyazaki, is a historical fantasy that follows 12-year-old Mahito (Soma Santoki), a boy who recently lost his mother during a hospital fire. Shortly after, his father Shoichi (Takuya Kimura) takes Natsuko (Yoshino Kimura), his late wife’s sister, as his new bride, and he and Mahito leave Tokyo to go to the countryside to escape from the thick of the war. Mahito struggles to adjust to his new life, especially his relationship with Natsuko, as he tries to deal with the fresh grief over losing his mother. Mahito notices a Grey heron following him, and the bird eventually leads him to a dilapidated tower on the property. When he tries to explore it, the old maids of the estate arrive to pull him away, mumbling about how if he isn’t careful, he’ll be taken. However, he’s already curious about the heron.

Mojito begins school, but quickly gets caught in a scrape with some of the other children. As he walks home, he smashes a rock against the side of his head, and when his father asks who did such a thing to him, Mahito insists he just fell. He’s allowed to stay home to recover, and takes the time to continue exploring the area around the tower and follow the heron. It’s not long before his presence is requested in the tower as frogs and fish surround him, but Natsuko finds him just in time and scares the heron off with an arrow. After that day, Natsuko becomes ill due to her pregnancy, and Mahito avoids her until one of the maids asks him to visit her. He does, stealing a pack of cigarettes from her room to trade with one of the old men on the estate, who teaches him to sharpen knives. Mahito begins building a bow and crafts one arrow using a feather from the heron for the fletching.

Natsuko wanders into the woods and doesn’t return, prompting everyone to go look for her, including Mahito. He and a maid, Kiriko (Ko Shibasaki), enter the tower and follow the heron, who tells Mahito that his mother isn’t really dead and he can take him to her. However, it turns out to be an illusion, and Mahito shoots his arrow at the heron, striking him in the beak. The heron then agrees to guide Mahito to Natsuko.

Mahito’s journey takes him to a parallel world where Kiriko is a young seafarer that protects creatures known as waruwaru, which will eventually go to the surface world to become new souls. However, the pelicans of the world try to eat them as they fly to the surface until a strange girl named Himi (Aimyon) stops them with her fire ability. Mahito finds a pelican that was hurt by the fire, who explains the pelicans were brought to the world to eat the waruwaru, and that very few fish exist in the sea for them. The pelican dies and Mahito buries it as the heron appears again. Kiriko sends the two off to finish the journey, giving Mahito a small doll of herself as an old woman for protection.

Mahito and the heron bicker as they travel until they come across the house of a blacksmith that is guarded by parakeets, who are known man eaters. The heron acts as a diversion so Mahito can sneak inside, but Mahito is captured. He’s saved when Himi arrives, and she takes him to the tower where Natsuko resides in a delivery room. He goes inside, only to have Natsuko tell him to leave and that she hates him, until he refers to her as his mother. However, the intrusion is considered a grave transgression by the universe, and the parakeets capture Mahito once again. Chained up in their kitchen, he meets the granduncle, who asks him to take over as the maintainer of the alternate world, as it can only be done by someone of blood relation who is free of malice. However, Mahito declines, deciding to return home to his family.

As with most Miyazaki films, The Boy and the Heron has much to say about the impact of tragedy and how we process grief. It’s not surprising to see these themes again, especially in a film where the protagonist is a young boy during the Second World War that has lost his mother and watched his father remarry within just a year of her death (and to her sister, no less). I think it’s also interesting that Miyazaki’s disdain for the dizzyingly fast pace of modern society can be seen through Shoichi, a man whose work keeps him away from home and who was almost too quick to remarry, despite the fact that he has incredibly good intentions.

He wants to give Mahito a “complete” family and a good life, two things that are incredibly difficult during a war, but the quick motion wears on Mahito himself, who is still hurt from everything that has happened. It often feels like modern life rushes us to vault over our hurdles quickly to keep being efficient, and Shoichi is a great example of that.

Nature itself is often demonized by some characters, who always call Mahito back when they feel he’s wandered too far or that he’s exploring too much. Miyazaki’s films love to showcase the way children explore and how important nature is, as seen later in the scene with the pelicans and the waruwaru. Mahito worries the pelicans will eat all of the waruwaru, but the dying pelican explains that it’s a cycle of life, one brought on by an imbalance of the alternate world. Maybe it’s a little loose, but I appreciated all the little ways Miyazaki’s favorite themes seemed to be woven into the film.

Some people may find the film a little too slow because of these little things. A lot of time is spent on building in the beginning – Mahito’s relationship with Natsuko, the meetings with the heron, the building of the bow – and it’s quite a while before we get into the more fantastical parts of the film. This wasn’t an issue for me. I liked having a firm basis for who Mahito is and why he decided to go after Natsuko especially given how indifferent he is towards her. However, for those who are in it for the fantasy, they may be disappointed by how long it takes to get there.

Of course, it’s not a Ghibli film without picturesque scenery and beautiful animation. The Boy and the Heron is visually exquisite; not a moment went by where I wasn’t breathless over seascapes and night skies. The animation is so fluid, even in the beginning moments that show Mahito running to the hospital with flames dancing around him in a more rough style. Is there any other animation studio that can animate liquids as well as Ghibli? From crashing waves to the blood dripping down Mahito’s face, it just looks amazing. The score, composed by Miyazaki’s long-time partner Joe Hisaishi, is also stellar. It’s piano-centric, which I think is a great choice for this story in particular given the range of the instrument and its almost simplistic quality.

The Boy and the Heron is a beautiful film, one that radiates hope with a story of a boy whose life has been burned to the ground in a way that has enriched the soil as he learns how to rise and find a place in a new life that still has roots in the one he’s leaving behind. While some may find it a bit meandering at times, the pace only enhances its charm, adding small pieces of Miyazaki’s favorite themes and ideas and weaving them together to create something truly special. In true Ghibli fashion, the visuals and audio are wonderful, full of fluid animation, beautiful backdrops, and a mesmerizing piano-heavy score that work together seamlessly to tell a story worthy of being Miyazaki’s last. If it actually is, of course.