'The Boy and the Heron' Review
Hayao Miyazaki crafts a masterful and mature coming of age story with visual beauty and the wondrous danger of Faerie
Japan’s Studio Ghibli and its most famous auteur Hayao Miyazaki may well be the last mainstream bastion for hand-drawn (well, mostly hand-drawn) 2D animation left in the world. Ever since the rise of Pixar, studio after studio has attempted to replicate its success by creating polished CGI films rather than the classic hand-drawn ones that have been beloved for generations. Dreamworks hasn’t released a 2D film since 2003; Disney’s last one was in 2011. Seeing a 2D movie in a theater in 2023 is almost a surreal experience.
However, if I could choose only one artist to keep this medium alive into the 2020s, it would be Hayao Miyazaki. Miyazaki’s signature blend of stunning visual beauty, heartwarming and believable child characters, and fantastical stories has awed and delighted children and adults alike for nearly 50 years. Every one of Miyazaki’s films is an invitation into the dangerous realm of Faerie, a place that is simultaneously unbelievable and yet terribly real, a land of adventure, danger, exhilaration, and beauty. The Boy and the Heron, although not quite reaching the heights of some of Miyazaki’s masterpieces, definitely continues this tradition.
The Boy and the Heron follows the story of Mahito, a young boy living in Tokyo during World War II. His mother dies in a hospital fire, and three years later his father moves them out to the countryside to live with his new wife, Natsuko, who happens to be Mahito’s mother’s sister. Mahito is resistant of this new relationship, still grieving his dead mother and refusing to accept Natsuko as a replacement. Mahito acts out in various ways, treating Natsuko rudely and even harming himself to get attention from his father. One day, Mahito discovers a magical tower built by his great-uncle which can serve as a gateway to other worlds. Led by the sometimes-malicious grey heron, Mahito must go on a journey to rescue Natsuko and learn how to let go, mature, and accept responsibility for his actions along the way.
The Boy and the Heron is, like all Miyazaki films, a visual masterpiece. From the serene countryside to the frenetic fantasy worlds, every frame is gorgeously composed and chock full of incredible details. The amazing visuals are complemented by a marvelous score by frequent Miyazaki collaborator Joe Hisaishi, creating an atmosphere of wonder that complements the fairy tale journey Mahito goes on perfectly.
Mahito’s journey is the stuff of classic fairy tales. Like most Miyazaki films, the marvelous and the mundane coexist right next to each other; one just has to be able to see it. Mahito, Natsuko, and the girl Himi whom Mahito meets inside the tower all enter the fairy world hurting in some way, seeking contentment and escape. However, all have to learn that escapism cannot solve their problems; it is impossible to create a balanced fantasy world for yourself. You have to face your problems and move on from loss in the real world in order to grow and find your true self.
For fans of Miyazaki’s work, The Boy and the Heron will be a familiar and satisfying new entry in his canon, continuing to exhibit the care and artistry he is known for. If you have never seen a Miyazaki film, I would probably start with some of his earlier work (My Neighbor Totoro, Ponyo, and Howl’s Moving Castle are all good introductions) but would definitely still recommend catching this one in theaters before its run is up. The wonder of the story and the beauty of the animation are well up to Miyazaki’s usual standards, and although he has perhaps made better films in the past, this one is still quite a good one to add to his list of accomplishments.
Do you think this movie is appropriate for a 7 year old boy, or is it too intense? Why is it PG13?
Thank you so much for this review! This has been the only movie to come out recently that I thought might be worth seeing, and I greatly appreciate an analysis from a Catholic perspective before testing it myself.