Confession time: I was disappointed by “The Boy and the Heron.” It feels almost sacrilegious to admit this, considering how much I adore Studio Ghibli films, and how grateful I feel to be able to experience a brand new Hayao Miyazaki film in theatres. While the film carries a beautiful message about moving on from the past and embracing the future, it lacks the story-telling power of Miyazaki’s past triumphs and flounders in a sea of flimsy, fantastical elements.
“The Boy and the Heron” is the latest film from Studio Ghibli, written and directed by Miyazaki, who “shocked” the world by coming out of retirement to release his final film. I write “shocked” sarcastically because no one should be surprised. Miyazaki has ‘retired’ multiple times already and has called previous films like “The Wind Rises,” which was released in 2014, his final film. (Sidenote, I truly believe Miyazaki will work until he is dead, Michelangelo-esque, probably dropping in the middle of working on another final film).
Purportedly, the film is semi-autobiographical, based on Miyazaki’s childhood growing up during World War II but filled with mystical elements. The story follows the journey of Mahito, a teenager grappling with the loss of his mother Himi during World War II. He has relocated to the countryside to live with his father who has remarried his mother’s younger sister, and they are now expecting their first child. Struggling to adjust to his new environment and grieving his mother, Mahito encounters a mysterious grey heron that tells him his mother is alive in another world, a place where time flows differently and can be accessed by walking through a mysterious tower that connects the two worlds. Soon after, Mahito watches Natsuko walk through the tower and disappear. Fearing for his stepmother/aunt’s safety and seeking to bring her home, Mahito follows the grey heron into the other world. As he navigates this strange, fantastical realm, Mahito unravels old family secrets and faces his past, present, and future as he is forced to decide how he will live with grief.
The Japanese title, “How Do You Live?”, sums up Miyazaki’s goal: to have audiences confront their past, present, and future and how they deal with grief. Miyazaki promotes accepting the uncontrollable and making the most of life. His main point is to let go of grief and pain to lessen suffering, both personally and collectively.
Overall, “The Boy and the Heron” feels like a missed opportunity for Miyazaki to deliver another masterpiece. On paper, all of the elements of a great movie are there, and for the first half, it succeeded. I was immediately captivated by the film’s violent, emotional opening and patient, character-driven first act, as Mahito’s mother tragically dies in a fire, as a bomb has been dropped on the hospital she works in.
However, as the story unfolded over its three-hour runtime, I began to notice a lack of cohesion in the narrative. New elements were introduced without proper exploration or depth, leaving me feeling disconnected and longing for more exposition and clarity. Despite the visually stunning settings, their significance often remained unexplained, leaving me with unanswered questions, such as the taboo behind Mahito entering his stepmother’s delivery room and her reaction to seeing him, and the background about the Paraqueet King. Even the music, usually a highlight of Miyazaki’s films, fell short, sometimes overpowering and disjointed, other times dull and forgettable.
The film suffers from underdeveloped characters who fail to leave a lasting impression. Initially, Mahito’s portrayal as a young boy grappling with his emotions and grief was compelling. He struggled to maintain composure while dealing with bullying classmates and with impulsive, self-destructive behaviors such as hitting his head with a sharp rock to cause himself to bleed.
However, as the plot ventured into the mythical realm, Mahito’s character seemed to lose depth. He took a backseat to the fantastical elements, lacking agency as he was swept along by the plot’s events. Despite facing significant challenges, Mahito showed little emotional response—no shock, surprise, anger or grief. While I understand he may be repressing his emotions and/or in a state of numbed shock, he remained like that until the end. If the character was to be committed to stoicism, the movie would have benefitted from letting some of his internal monologues shine through in narration, as I was confused by quick changes in his behavior (such as the abrupt change of his relationship with his step-mom) and wished I knew more about how his emotional arc.
This lack of emotional depth made it difficult to understand his motivations or connect with his character arc, leaving me unable to fully invest or believe in him. His emotional journey toward connecting with his stepmother also felt rushed and superficial, lacking the depth and authenticity that audiences have come to expect from Miyazaki’s characters.
The supporting characters are equally underwhelming, with most of them serving as mere plot devices rather than fully realized individuals or creatures, despite their unique character designs and potential for exploration of their mythological lore. Even Mahito’s stepmother, the character I was most intrigued by, is relegated to the sidelines for much of the film, robbing the story of the opportunity to explore her relationship with Mahito and their shared grief over the loss of Hima in greater depth.
While there were interesting plot twists and revelations, the film’s final act was a letdown. It felt aimless, as the story rushed towards its resolution, with loose ends left untied, thematic threads were left underdeveloped, and the characters seemed largely unchanged.
Overall, the movie felt more like a mouthpiece for Miyazaki to express a message about life rather than a genuine, powerful story. Unfortunately, by focusing so heavily on the message, relying on a preachy monologue by Mahito’s grand-uncle to drive the point home in the final act, and failing to fully flesh out the characters and plot, his message fell flat.
In the end, “Boy and the Heron” feels like a missed opportunity. Miyazaki had all the ingredients for a great movie, but somewhere along the way, he lost sight of what made his earlier films so special.
