I've finally watched it. My very own movie of 2023: The Boy and the Heron (君たちはどう生きるか). In the recent weeks defined by Disney's failures in the form of The Marvels and Wish, Miyazaki "not from Miyazaki" Hayao's latest work was a refreshing distraction from accusations of political messaging and counter-accusations of intolerance. Interestingly, the cinema hall was nearly empty when I was watching it. Do I mind? On one hand, it gives off a serene feel, and I like it. On the other hand, I've learnt that quality and popularity don't always go hand in hand. This is why I don't mind being a henjin in a society full of normal people.
Suffice it to say, it was a great watch. While I didn't go all weepy from the beginning till the end, there was a specific scene towards the end which tugged at my heartstrings. As an emotionally dysfunctional person, it felt weird watching it without a shred of emotion. However, it was a thought-provoking watch. If you list gratification as a factor in your choice of movie, this is not the movie for you. But if making you think is your thing, then go watch it. One of the very few movies I watched was Crazy Rich Asians, and it never made me use my brain. I watched Deadpool 1 and 2. I didn't have to use my brain as well. Comparing them with The Boy and the Heron made me appreciate the maestro that is Miyazaki-san.
So, where do I start?
Loss is a reality we all have to deal with. Either you've already dealt with it or will deal with it. Miyazaki-san was no exception, as he lost his beloved mother to a fire when he was a child. The same is true for our hero, Maki Mahito (I'll elaborate on why this kid is the show's hero). The chaotic scenes involving Mahito running through the crowd because his mother was in danger were impactful. In fact, I don't know how to describe it beyond calling it a visible blur of moving images. In this case, the magic of animation came to life. There is no way a live movie can pull this off. I'm convinced of that. More often than not, people disregard animation as something for kids. As a result, the real magic is something that constantly eludes them.
Coping with grief is never easy. Some can move on, but others remain in its shadow. Mahito belonged to the latter. After all, how much should we expect from a child? Right from the beginning, Mahito was a dysfunctional child in a functional family ever since that fateful day. He had a stepmother who happened to be his mother's twin sister. It'd be easier for him to return to normalcy, right? Nope. He had a father who truly loved him. Surely, he couldn't be a dysfunctional kid. Wrong. In a real sense, I saw myself in him.
Seeing him being ostracised in school merely amplified my empathy for him since I was subjected to emotional abuse, the occasional physical violence, and apathy even from my teachers. Yet, being a victim wasn't the end of the story. This despondent child felt he didn't belong to his surroundings. Right from the beginning, a distant feeling was palpable. In a shocking display of malicious manipulation, Mahito purposely injured himself so that his father could get revenge on his behalf while acting innocent about it. No child should be capable of something like that, but this is the dark truth of human nature. I've seen this in my classmates as early as the age of twelve, and I've seen this in myself. I cursed the bully I hated most in ITE as a little dog. During secondary two, I developed a grim joy of witnessing another bully in emotional distress. I expressed myself differently, but the darkness was nevertheless the same. I was the Iorweth to their Dh'oine.
From one world to another
Mahito's entrance into an alternate world was inspired by Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. It's the same case of the protagonist entering another world, albeit through different means. An essential aspect of this was that certain things were left unexplained. Like what was the relevance between the wooden dolls of the maids and their actual selves in Mahito's world? What was the relevance between one version of Kiriko and the other? But therein lies the beauty of Miyazaki-san's world-building. We don't have to know everything. You see, the beauty of fantasy isn't necessarily how much we know. Instead, lingering mysteries can create a beauty no one can comprehend. In reality, it's a fact that humanity can never know everything under the sun. An example of this is the logic of the first cause. You and I know this to be true. But do we know how it works? No. Not even science can explain it, yet science cannot deny it.
Another example is whether we can imagine what absolute chaos looks like. Again, the answer is no because the nature of human imagination is dictated by an actual semblance of order. Chaos, as we know it, is nothing more than a faded version of the real thing. So before you bust your head trying to understand as much as possible, my advice is to give up the ghost. The world in this work wasn't meant to be understood but appreciated.
Yet, the world woven was a dangerous one. In fact, Studio Ghibli was no stranger to adding dark elements to world-building. A prominent example is Princess Mononoke, where the conflict between civilisation and nature is concerned. This is not some kind of socio-political commentary on environmentalism. It is a tale of how cruel the world can be. On the one hand, the expansion of civilisations has been known to cause conflicts.
On the other hand, nature is a cruel master who doesn't care whether one respects it. In The Boy and the Heron, birds eat things. It sounds perfectly normal until you know what they eat: human flesh and baby souls. At the same time, there was a scene depicting a badly burnt pelican talking to Mahito before it died.
This scene is interesting as we're given a glimpse of the emptiness faced by the pelicans. What they desired wasn't eating the baby souls. It's to be freed from a hellish world where Kiriko was literally the only person considered alive. There's a contrast to be seen here: The beauty of scenery against the grim reality of death. This was further confirmed when Mahito pointed out to his great-granduncle that the building blocks used to maintain the world were made of the same material seen in tombstones.
In a genuine sense, the world in The Boy and the Heron is just like the real world. It's full of danger. There's always the danger of bullying, ostracisation, and apathy in school. You have the risk of wrong values dehumanising others and the deception called self-righteousness. The list goes on. If there's one thing parents can learn from this movie, it'd be preparing their children for a dangerous world so that they can protect themselves and become individuals of integrity. Insulating them from harm would only risk destroying them. The solution is to equip them with wisdom and integrity so that they can have the strength to be a blessing to others.
Himi
At first glance, rooting for Himi is easy because she's a strong female character. However, strong characters are nothing if they're not great characters. This is something many people on the internet don't understand. Take, for example, Ryougi Shiki of Kara no Kyoukai. Was she a strong character? She could destroy everything under the sun, for crying out loud. Was she a fragile character, nevertheless? That made her a great character instead of just a strong one.
The best way to appreciate Himi is to base it on something other than the merit of strength. There's a need to see her for who she was: Mahito's mother. Her display of destructive conflagration was intended to protect Mahito from harm, storytelling-wise. Throughout the plot, her role as Mahito's protector was none other than her role as Mahito's (future) mother. In fact, I suspect Miyazaki-san deliberately used fire as an identity symbol for Himi instead of just being the cause of her death. In a certain sense, one could see the symbolism of a phoenix in her. In fact, the movie ended not with her returning to Mahito's current timeline, but rather the past where she would eventually grow up, get married, and have Mahito. The fortitude displayed wasn't something to take lightly. She could have lived a happy life if she had agreed to enter Mahito's timeline. After all, she wouldn't have to experience the same manner of death all over again. But because she's Mahito's mother first and foremost, she made a choice very few women would have made.
Natsuko
Otherwise known as Himi's twin sister, her role as Mahito's stepmother was expanded to Mahito's questing objective. Not only that, it was through her that Mahito developed as a character. Without Himi, Mahito wouldn't have been born. Without Natsuko, however, Mahito wouldn't have grown up. When Mahito decided to enter the forest to bring back Natsuko, we saw a child with a maturity many real-life adults would never have. Instead of wallowing in despair, Mahito decided to do something about the situation (note that I didn't say Mahito chose to do something about his mental state). In an era of "Okay, boomer", where youths believe they're entitled to the right to disrespect others while demanding respect for themselves, it's unthinkable for them to make sacrifices for a family member to whom they're not emotionally attached. Not Mahito. He's made of much better stuff than that. In this manner, Miyazaki-san gave us a glimpse of what kind of person Mahito was despite his scheme to manipulate his father through self-injury.
If there's still any question about Mahito's character, none of it remained when Natsuko lashed out at him in anger despite his efforts to save her. The impact of the reminder shouldn't be underestimated, as Mahito had endured a lot at the hands of a cruel world. This was the world that took his beloved mother away. This was the world to which he felt no sense of belonging. Yet, Mahito kept pursuing what he intended to do in the first place.
Torihito-kun
The titular heron clearly didn't have a name. But for convenience, let's call him Torihito-kun (just don't tell Miyazaki-san that). The seiyuu for Torihito-kun was an interesting pick. Suda "the General" Masaki was also known for his role as Minamoto no Yoshitsune in The Thirteen Lord of the Shogun drama. Unlike the popular versions of Yoshitsune typified by Gikeiki, this version was the anti-heroic Yoshitsune synonymous with the historical records of Azuma Kagami. Like an anti-heroic Yoshitsune, Torihito-kun was also the undisputable anti-hero of the show. Right from the beginning, he was Mahito's tormentor-in-chief. Without the great-granduncle's orders, there's no knowing what he'd have done to Mahito. Yet, something changed. The English title The Boy and the Heron explains Mahito's journey in a self-explanatory way. Like how Mahito didn't get to choose who walked the journey with him, we don't get to choose many things in life. We don't get to choose which country we're born in. We don't get to choose which parents gave birth to us, let alone whether we're adopted. In fact, we don't even get to choose our sufferings. In a symbolic sense, Torihito-kun represented this fact.
What's most touching about this unlikely alliance wasn't how Torihito-kun changed his heart. It's how Mahito's innocence made it possible. Remember, Mahito was no stranger to human darkness and Torihito-kun's antics. In short, there should be no reason for Mahito to treat Torihito-kun kindly. But he did. In the real world of self-righteousness and identity conflict, it's easy to prioritise might over right and still call it right. Yet, Mahito chose not to follow the world. He did what was right instead of just following his heart or head. This goes back to the cruelty of the alternate world populated by death and carnivorous birds. You may not be able to dictate what the world should be like, but at least you can choose what kind of person to be. Either you can follow the world, or you can go against it. Either you can worship the merit of might or embrace the importance of right.
Was it supposed to be WW2?
One interesting assumption concerning this movie is that the backdrop was World War 2. While this was right, perhaps it's not how we expected. In the beginning, I was led to believe the hospital fire was a result of the bombing of Tokyo. But when the scene later shifted to Mahito's father in charge of building boats for the Japanese soldiers occupying Southeast Asia (i.e. Saipan was clearly mentioned), I realised it might not be the case. At the same time, if the hospital fire was a result of Tokyo getting bombed, the damage would have been far more extensive, with the residents forced to evacuate. This led to the question of whether civil defence sirens were also used as fire sirens during those days. So was it really Tokyo being bombed like Iran by America or an unfortunate accident in which America had no part? I leave this question to you all to answer.
How Do We Live: Lessons we adults can learn from a child.
The world can be depressing at times. Recently, I came across news in my backyard that further verified this fact. Don't get me wrong. Objectifying women and sexual harassment are two of the many evils in this world. But to justify one wrong through another wrong is like saying Eren wasn't wrong in destroying 80% of the human population just to save the Eldians. In fact, there's something scarily truthful about Isayama "Hametsu no Hajime" Hajime's signature work regarding human nature (a YouTuber called Soul did an excellent analysis video on this). With that said, I don't use dating apps. Call me a Japanese fossil (because I look more like a Japanese and nothing like a Chinese), but dating apps like Tinder are way too superficial for my liking.
Back to the topic at hand. So why am I talking about human nature? There's a reason why I called Mahito the hero of the story. The reason was his reply to his great-granduncle's request to take over from him to ensure the building blocks assembled wouldn't collapse. The rationale behind this was that the stability of the building blocks stacked precariously represented the stability of every world. Hence, only a person without malice can maintain the benign impartiality needed to perform the task. Mahito, however, stated that he wasn't that kind of person. The proof of his malice? His self-inflicted scar as a result of being bullied. We can go on and on about whether the malice was directed at his bullies or the world, but we cannot deny this was what Mahito said. At the same time, there is something symbolic about the building blocks made from the same materials seen in tombstones. And that is no world is ever a stranger to conflict. The irony of peace is that we wouldn't know what it looks like without conflict. It's just like the matter of evil. Without evil, can we know what is good?
Fast forward to the end, where Mahito, Natsuko, and Torihito-kun managed to escape back to their rightful world (but not before the poignant farewell scene involving Himi's decision to embrace her fate as Mahito's future mother and eventual death), and we see Mahito still holding onto some of the stones used to make the building blocks. Torihito-kun, in his usual self, stated that Mahito would forget about his journey sooner or later. Interestingly, Mahito didn't deny or acknowledge Torihito-kun's words. But was that the critical part?
Throughout his journey, Mahito had to deal with how he should live. It all started with a decision to save Natsuko from an unknown fact and culminated in him confronting himself. In a world full of death, surely he would have remembered the fiery scene. Before the cynicism of realism, he chose to help Torihito-kun despite his actions. Before his great-granduncle, he had to look inside himself instead of saying yes or no. In life, we're bound to deal with decisions. And decisions have consequences (many thanks to the FF14: Endwalker storyline for showing me that). Like what Geralt said in the second Witcher game, decisions should be evaluated before and not after. Ultimately, the decisions we make would decide how we live. Decisions are not just about dealing with circumstances. It's also about living in an imperfect world of conflict, tragedy, evil, and grief. More often than not, we fail to ask ourselves, "君たちはどう生きるか" because we think we're alive. But because we're alive, we have to look at ourselves in the mirror and ask this question: How do we live? Many people wasted years without realising it because they never asked themselves this question. But what about us? It's never too late so long we're still alive.
