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The Boy and the Heron Review
The Boy and the Heron marks the return of the legendary figure in Japanese animation cinema, the one and only Hayao Miyazaki. As per the producer, this is the most expensive Japanese film ever made, and it might be rightfully so, but there are some flaws to it. The film is very slow-paced, especially in the first half, which took a hell of a while to build the plot. The second half is more colourful and dramatic, making us believe that the fictional world and the real world are actually connected to each other; all we need is an eye to see it. That time travel conflict in the ending is not new for those who know Miyazaki's previous films, but may work as a USP factor for freshers. Miyazaki's animated world is damn creative, and you need a lot of time to notice the nuances, such as the change in expressions and physical appearances of the characters. The master filmmaker played too well there; it's just the pace that hurt the film.Set in the Pacific War in Tokyo, the film tells the story of a boy named Mahito who loses his mother. 4 years later, his father gets mingled with his dead wife's sister, Natsuko, and they move to her rural place for a while. Mahito hasn't gotten over the trauma of his mother's death and isn't favouring Natsuko's affection for him. A talking grey Heron promises him that he can take him to his mother, and he is shocked but delighted. After a small fight, the heron is given a command by a wizard to guide Mahito, and he is transformed into a different world to search for pregnant Natsuko. There, he has to face several inhuman creatures, and every time, he is saved by someone. A pyrokinetic woman, Himi, is a major help to Mahito, who guides him to the right path. What Mahito learns in this dream world and what he takes back home are all you get to see in the film.
Sometimes it becomes difficult to watch your film with subtitles, particularly an animation flick. It becomes more difficult when there are too many dialogues and too much action at the same time. Thankfully, Miyazaki's TBATH has balanced things beautifully. The visual effects are grand and eye-pleasing, and mostly all those grand scenes have no dialogue, helping you to avoid checking out the bottom of the screen for subtitles.
The voice cast sounded okay. But how do you judge them when you are watching a foreign language movie and trying to understand it with English subtitles? When do you really get time to notice the voice cast? Nevertheless, the expressions were cute, and they looked genuine. These Japanese animated flicks are usually driven by that cute and innocent humour, which also helps in bringing comedy. The laughs come out even without verbal dialogue. That's the power of expressions and situational momentum.
Technically, it's a powerful film with brilliant sound design and fantastic production design. The animation world is creatively amazing, and one needs to hail Miyazaki and his animation team for paying attention to small small nuances even while making such a big screen grandeur. The frame goes down in the mud when the boy walks through it, the old lady's red nose while she's asleep, those multiple changes Heron's physical appearance, Himi's facial expressions, Warawar's cute expressions, and sudden explosions and reductions in the size of parakeets—all these things are unique and highly creative. You just need to keep your eyes open and catch them all.
Hayao Miyazaki returns to the movies after a decade (including 2 years of pandemic), and we are grateful to him. He has made several pathbreaking films that have changed people's perceptions of Japanese animation, especially for American and British audiences. With The Boy and the Heron, he sparks the screen once again and challenges new stereotypes of coming-of-age movies. Having the film set in wartime actually boosts the nature of the conflict. It is based on two pillars: one is the loss of losing someone close, and the second is how you look at the rest of the world after that regret. It's a basic conflict for many coming-of-age boys/girls, and we have seen Pixar dealing with similar contexts in different patterns. After all, the motive is the same—giving love to those who love you and are present with you. Miyazaki has himself experienced these things in his teenage years, so he decided to give it a fantasy touch and make that regret look colourful, not dark. Had it been a little bit faster in the first half, it would have ended up being one of his best works for me. As a whole, this Miyazaki's return is unexpectedly slow but still very effective and magical. I hope he continues to serve us with good movies and doesn't think of retirement for a decade or two.