Spirited Away
22 May 2020
Back in what feels like the beforetimes in February, Netflix began a staggered release of Studio Ghibli films, which put me in the mood to revisit many of them as well as see the few I'd missed for the first time. As the Covid-19 crisis became more apparent and lockdown was (finally and suddenly) introduced in the UK, the desire in particular to find comfort in Sprited Away (dir. Hayao Miyazaki, 2001) grew all the more. It's a film I've watched a few times before, and I enjoy the experience of seeing the works in both the original Japanese and English dubs. When Channel 4 ran a Studio Ghibli season, oh goodness, 10 to 15 or perhaps more years ago, only the dubbed versions were shown. But Netflix gives fantastic options for audio and subtitle combinations, and this time round it has to be the Japanese.
In early April my anxiety concerning the pandemic was overwhelming, and getting it under control led to fatigue. One afternoon I had to admit defeat and lie in bed. Never wanting to be idle, I wanted to do something, and sleep was very much alluding me at the time. I had never seen Arrietty (dir. Hiromasa Yonebayashi, 2010) and knew it would be the gentle hug of a film I needed, and I was not wrong.
For weeks, though, I've yearned to be in the company of Chihiro in the spirit world with a similar sad-happy nostalgia I'm feeling for a home I don't know when I'll see again. On Monday afternoon this week, I finished all the tasks I'd set out for the day and, due to himself's working needs, I couldn't work on mask-making. After a short deliberation with myself I granted me permission to watch Spirited Away, thinking, well I need a topic for my blog this week, so technically it's work. And I know I shouldn't need permission to watch a comforting film during a global pandemic, but when you've internalised the overworking culture of academia, you've internalised it good.
When Chihiro takes the long train journey to return the seal Haku stole from Zeniba, upon hearing about Chihiro's half-memories of Haku, Zeniba remarks:
The film maps Chihiro's maturation arc and shows the ways her determination to put things right facilitates further positive changes for the spirit-world folk who've lost their memories and identities in working for Yobaba. Importantly, as with just about all Ghibli films, no character is fully bad or fully good. When we first meet her, it would be easy to consider Chihiro as a spoilt brat, but this is a young person who is being torn away from the only world she knows. We find out through the course of the film that when she was much younger she survived a near drowning incident trying to retrieve her lost shoe from a river. Her traumas may seem trifling, but they are real and magnified to her - an issue to which her parents refuse to listen, so distracted are they by the capitalist way of life. Chihiro may seem whiny in the film's opening minutes, but unlike her parents, she knows it's bad manners to help yourself to what is not yours.
Given the upheaval of the move, the unsympathetic attitude of her parents and her physical memories of a near-death experience, it is no wonder that Chihiro is highly strung and, as we see when she must descend the Bath House's outdoor staircase, over-cautious. These make her no less determined and she always gets there in her own time, with the viewer accompanying her in the film's durational sequences that unflinchingly show the minute details of her slow, careful, and contemplative actions. The staircase snapping under her and jolting her into running the rest of the way prepares her for when in order to proceed in helping Haku she later has no choice but to run across a disintegrating pipe. Not only is this a learning curve and growth in confidence in Chihiro, the ripple effect of her presence draws attention to a system and structure that is breaking apart, indicated by the dilapidated exterior of the Bath House.
At every turn, Chihiro is met with complicated processes and scary things she needs to do and say to achieve the next step towards her objectives. She encounters luck and help along the way, but ultimately she is the most reliable character due to her own force of will; she is the only being not corrupted by the Bath House, and leads others, particularly No Face, away from the powerful impulses towards greed and selfishness it exerts. Even while it seems that she is dependent on Haku's help, in a reversal of the typical Disney-princess-needing-to-be-saved narrative, Chihiro puts right Haku's mistakes and bravely figures out what will help him when the spell on Zeniba's seal is killing him - which involves feeding him her gift from the River Spirit that she was saving to help her parents.
Chihiro's is a narrative of an ordinary person finding themself in extraordinary circumstances. Hers is a story of self-improvement, of learning, of trying even though you're scared and aren't sure if yours is the appropriate solution. Her story was always empowering, but I find it more so now. I hope we can all be a little more Chihiro in the times to come.
If you enjoy my posts, please consider supporting me via liberapay.com/peablair. Thank you!
Back in what feels like the beforetimes in February, Netflix began a staggered release of Studio Ghibli films, which put me in the mood to revisit many of them as well as see the few I'd missed for the first time. As the Covid-19 crisis became more apparent and lockdown was (finally and suddenly) introduced in the UK, the desire in particular to find comfort in Sprited Away (dir. Hayao Miyazaki, 2001) grew all the more. It's a film I've watched a few times before, and I enjoy the experience of seeing the works in both the original Japanese and English dubs. When Channel 4 ran a Studio Ghibli season, oh goodness, 10 to 15 or perhaps more years ago, only the dubbed versions were shown. But Netflix gives fantastic options for audio and subtitle combinations, and this time round it has to be the Japanese.
In early April my anxiety concerning the pandemic was overwhelming, and getting it under control led to fatigue. One afternoon I had to admit defeat and lie in bed. Never wanting to be idle, I wanted to do something, and sleep was very much alluding me at the time. I had never seen Arrietty (dir. Hiromasa Yonebayashi, 2010) and knew it would be the gentle hug of a film I needed, and I was not wrong.
For weeks, though, I've yearned to be in the company of Chihiro in the spirit world with a similar sad-happy nostalgia I'm feeling for a home I don't know when I'll see again. On Monday afternoon this week, I finished all the tasks I'd set out for the day and, due to himself's working needs, I couldn't work on mask-making. After a short deliberation with myself I granted me permission to watch Spirited Away, thinking, well I need a topic for my blog this week, so technically it's work. And I know I shouldn't need permission to watch a comforting film during a global pandemic, but when you've internalised the overworking culture of academia, you've internalised it good.
When Chihiro takes the long train journey to return the seal Haku stole from Zeniba, upon hearing about Chihiro's half-memories of Haku, Zeniba remarks:
This reflects my relationship with Spirited Away and many other films: a feeling of emotional connection even though all you can recall are brief, fragmented images. While watching, this observation held new meaning for me and I realised why I wanted so much to relive Chihiro's journey: hers is a paramount example of looking anxiety in the face and, by accepting help along the way, doing what needs to be done.'Once you've met someone you never really forget them. It just takes a while for your memories to return.'
The film maps Chihiro's maturation arc and shows the ways her determination to put things right facilitates further positive changes for the spirit-world folk who've lost their memories and identities in working for Yobaba. Importantly, as with just about all Ghibli films, no character is fully bad or fully good. When we first meet her, it would be easy to consider Chihiro as a spoilt brat, but this is a young person who is being torn away from the only world she knows. We find out through the course of the film that when she was much younger she survived a near drowning incident trying to retrieve her lost shoe from a river. Her traumas may seem trifling, but they are real and magnified to her - an issue to which her parents refuse to listen, so distracted are they by the capitalist way of life. Chihiro may seem whiny in the film's opening minutes, but unlike her parents, she knows it's bad manners to help yourself to what is not yours.
Given the upheaval of the move, the unsympathetic attitude of her parents and her physical memories of a near-death experience, it is no wonder that Chihiro is highly strung and, as we see when she must descend the Bath House's outdoor staircase, over-cautious. These make her no less determined and she always gets there in her own time, with the viewer accompanying her in the film's durational sequences that unflinchingly show the minute details of her slow, careful, and contemplative actions. The staircase snapping under her and jolting her into running the rest of the way prepares her for when in order to proceed in helping Haku she later has no choice but to run across a disintegrating pipe. Not only is this a learning curve and growth in confidence in Chihiro, the ripple effect of her presence draws attention to a system and structure that is breaking apart, indicated by the dilapidated exterior of the Bath House.
At every turn, Chihiro is met with complicated processes and scary things she needs to do and say to achieve the next step towards her objectives. She encounters luck and help along the way, but ultimately she is the most reliable character due to her own force of will; she is the only being not corrupted by the Bath House, and leads others, particularly No Face, away from the powerful impulses towards greed and selfishness it exerts. Even while it seems that she is dependent on Haku's help, in a reversal of the typical Disney-princess-needing-to-be-saved narrative, Chihiro puts right Haku's mistakes and bravely figures out what will help him when the spell on Zeniba's seal is killing him - which involves feeding him her gift from the River Spirit that she was saving to help her parents.
Chihiro's is a narrative of an ordinary person finding themself in extraordinary circumstances. Hers is a story of self-improvement, of learning, of trying even though you're scared and aren't sure if yours is the appropriate solution. Her story was always empowering, but I find it more so now. I hope we can all be a little more Chihiro in the times to come.
If you enjoy my posts, please consider supporting me via liberapay.com/peablair. Thank you!
Comments
Post a Comment