My Neighbour Totoro (1988)

My Neighbour Totoro (1988)

Dir. Hayao Miyazaki

I feel it's fitting that Totoro sits large in Studio Ghibli's logo, because it remains arguably the best film the animation giant ever made.

The story is simple, but wonderfully realised, with a sincerity that shines out from every hand-drawn cel, as if even the ink that was used to make it flowed out in celebration.

A father and his two young daughters move into a new house in a rural area situated close to the hospital where the children's mother is recovering from a long-term illness.

While the father unloads the packed truck, the children, Satsuki and Mei, investigate their new environment, which also serves as our introduction to its ambience and mysteries.

Satsuki is the eldest girl, of school age, while Mei is pre-school. Like tiny explorers the siblings run through dusty halls and rooms, taking stock of all they see. It's a lively introduction, filled with the kind of spirited exuberance that the very young seem to have in abundance, and it effortlessly establishes the bond the girls have.

Mei mimics her big sister when they're together, but when Satsuki is at school the youngest child has to find ways to play by herself. It's during such an occasion that she discovers the mysteries of the house pale in comparison to what lives in the neighbouring trees.

The idyllic daytime setting is beautiful, but just as beguiling is the change to nightfall, when sunlight rests and moonlight casts a more baleful hue over the green fields and forests, in a way that strengthens the subtle but important ambiguity that's attached to the fantastical creatures.

Joe Hisaishi's score is wedded to the visuals exquisitely. It's not a bombastic orchestral work, but its simplicity enhances the moods, whatever they may be at any given time, seemingly with ease. There are parts of it that never fail to make me smile, no matter how tough my day has been.

I was so enraptured by the film that I didn't realise until my second or third viewing that it eschews any kind of traditional antagonist, which is more often than not the element that conflict/drama in movies is driven by and/or hinges upon. Even so, it has at least one heart-in-the-throat moment that gives its second half a memorable dramatic urgency.

If you've avoided Totoro up to now thinking it's a film 'just for kids', then you've potentially denied yourself the rekindling of childhood joy and wonder that can come from a viewing. Perhaps maturity has oppressed that side of you more than you ever thought possible? For a short time Miyazaki shows a world filtered through young eyes. Adult concerns exist but the children don't have a name for them yet, so they hold a different kind of mystery.

Beyond that, delve into the story's subtext and you'll discover themes that explore transitoriness from differing angles. I'll stress it again: Totoro isn't a film made just for children. Disney would sell their soul (if they had one) to make something as perfect as it. Even the parts that make me sad and remind me of lost loved-ones are welcome and fully embraced. It's Ghibli at its best.

NOTE: a direct sequel was released in 2002, titled Mei and the Kittenbus. It's a short (13 mins) film that, at time of writing, isn't available for home purchase. To see it, you'll need to travel to the Ghibli Museum in Mitaka, Tokyo, and attend a screening in the Saturn Theatre. Like all the other museum exclusive short films, it's never been released to the home market.