So yesterday: Studio Ghibli’s influence on animation
On Friday, Japanese film studio Studio Ghibli released Only Yesterday, theoretically their latest film in a long line of celebrated, classic animated films, such as Spirited Away, Princess Mononoke and Howl’s Moving Castle. However, Only Yesterday, in fact, was made in 1991 and only released in the States this year.
Only Yesterday tells the story of a young woman who travels to the countryside to visit family and, during her travels, reminisces about her childhood spent in Tokyo. The film is startlingly real — it depicts the turmoil of a 20-something bound by societal influences (her mother wants her married, her father won’t let her pursue a career as an actress). It is rife with those anxieties we have all experienced during childhood: first love, body exploration, identity confusion and so on. It is shockingly adult for an animated film, progressive in its portrayal of a Japanese woman growing up in modernity and attempting to find her place within its boundaries.
Studio Ghibli is one of Japan’s most influential studio houses. It has been around since 1985 and has consistently churned out 21 films over the last 30 years. If we liken it to film studios here in the U.S., it was providing films for audiences just as Disney was building American childhoods through their films. However, the main difference with Ghibli is in its depiction of strong women. Put it this way: as Studio Ghibli was releasing Only Yesterday in the summer of 1991 in its home country, Disney was in the process of marketing and selling Beauty and the Beast — wherein our protagonist Belle’s livelihood and ultimate happiness is pretty much solely based on the temperaments of a moody (and literal) beast. In 1989, when America was watching The Little Mermaid, Japan had Kiki’s Delivery Service. In one country, children watched Ariel lose her voice, only able to regain it once she’d received the “kiss of true love” (keep in mind, Eric falls in love with a woman who can’t even speak). In Japan, children watched as a young witch used her flying powers to earn her own living. Miyazaki himself stated the film was about “the gulf that exists between independence and reliance in the hopes and spirit of contemporary Japanese girls.” In terms of influence — which film was probably better at teaching young girls how to operate in the world? With Disney’s Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella and Snow White — all classic films in the western canon of animated features — we’re taught at a very young age, that yes, in fact, one day our prince will come, but until then, it’s pretty darn depressing.
That isn’t to say that Studio Ghibli is superior to Disney. Disney is still responsible for some of my favorite movies of all time, and I am under no illusion that my happiness relies solely on the love and adoration of a guy who happens to find my glass slipper, but until then I shall sit in abject misery, waiting for his arrival. I’m only pointing out that there exists a large discrepancy between the films that American children were fed for the last 80 plus years and those that were released abroad. Studio Ghibli’s films have a certain propensity towards depicting the female protagonist and only the female protagonist. In Spirited Away, Sen grows from sullen child to capable adult. In Howl’s Moving Castle, Sophie changes from an insecure, shy young girl into an outspoken and strong woman. When Disney does release films about women, it’s mostly about how they need a man to rescue them from the great depths of despair.
There is the argument that Disney is a little outdated when it comes to progressive children’s films. We now have Pixar studios to fill that void — and possibly match Studio Ghibli in terms of influence and inventiveness. And yet, Pixar still can’t beat Ghibli’s knack for nuance and sophistication. Pixar’s 2012 Scottish myth Brave promised greatness in its depiction of a fiery red-head princess named Merida, but simply turned out to be an odd animated drama about a girl who’s mom is unfairly turned into a bear.
Of course, we now have Disney’s Frozen under our collective belts that marked a change in the annals of animated film history. And let us not forget 1998’s Mulan. But even with Mulan, the ending of our lead’s story is wrapped up in whether or not she’s loved by a man. In most Ghibli films, that type of girl-and-boy-live-happily-ever-after narrative is virtually non-existentent. I can’t even get into in this column how this may affect a young person when they grow up and learn that the happily ever after might not be so happy after all. But suffice to say, maybe our studio houses should turn toward Ghibli as inspiration for the types of films we should be giving the young, impressionable brains of today.
Minnie Schedeen is a a junior majoring in cinema and media studies. Her column, “Film Fatale,” runs on Mondays.