Sitting in the theater yesterday, I found myself peering up into the endless shadowy heights of a vast cavern, listening to the booming, deafening echo of a faraway...ticking clock.
The dark cavern was the bedroom of our supporting lead, Sho, a boy with a brave but rapidly failing heart; but at the moment, I was standing in the lovingly handmade boots of our heroine and main character, Arrietty the Borrower. It was her first time exploring a human habitation, no small task when you stand barely as tall as a child's finger, and it was impossible not to feel some of her sense of awe and wonder at the gigantic world unfolding around her.
This newest Ghibli film is filled with such tiny people, but nevertheless stands a cut above the studio's recent releases ("Howl's Moving Castle", "Tales from Earthsea", even "Ponyo"), delivering a warm and evocative experience that stays with the viewer long after leaving the theater.
Pacing and plot have been stumbling blocks for Ghibli in recent years, with their otherwise delightful films spinning wildly out of control in visually fascinating but bewildering finales. "Arrietty" thankfully breaks this pattern. The film is beautifully paced and stays true to the spirit of its source material, establishing an engaging world and then carrying the viewer through a well-crafted tale that twists here and there without flying off the tracks before coasting to an ending that borrows nicely from the original while adding a few touches that feel just right. No incomprehensible final act here, just satisfying storytelling.
However, what really makes the film a winner, in my opinion, is its masterful use of atmosphere. The sense of the balmy, lazy, sun- and rain-drenched Japanese summertime is beautifully conveyed and pervades every scene, helped along by Corbel's warm and wistful Celtic-styled soundtrack and gentle vocals, but just as memorable and far more unique is the sense of sheer scale.
Since the beginning of filmmaking, plenty of movies have tackled the special effects challenge of portraying tiny people in a human-sized world, but although they've integrated their miniature stars more and more skillfully into their surroundings, few have given such a sense of the sheer size of those surroundings from the heroes' vantage. There's no such disconnect here, and Ghibli uses the versatility of animation to their full advantage. The view as Arrietty peers over the edge of a kitchen cabinet is dizzying. Scenes of climbing inside the hollow wall joists feel as hazardous as a documentary on spelunking. Coming in from the rain, Arrietty impatiently brushes clinging water droplets as big as her hands from her hair and clothes. The rustling of Sho's clothing as he stands or sits is like the unfurling of a schooner's sail in the wind, and speaking human voices (although not pitched down to the uncomfortable point that full realism might require) are sometimes underscored with an unsettling rumble. I left the film with a heightened awareness of my own vast(?) size, scanning around me for spots where a Borrower might hide in the theater lobby or creep out to fetch stray popcorn kernels.
Inhabiting this gorgeous world are plenty of charming characters: brave and spirited Arrietty, who shinnies up curtains like a monkey and draws her borrowed pin to stare down danger with a sound like Errol Flynn unsheathing a blade; her hard-working and stoically affectionate father, Pod, and fretful but loving mother, Homily; the young human Sho who longs for a friend as he ponders the possibility of his own extinction as well as the Borrowers'; his gentle-spirited aunt and their grubby-fingered housekeeper, who both have their own reasons to wish to see a "tiny person"; and an unexpected visitor who brings startling news to Arrietty's family.
Fans of the book series will be delighted with the film's respectful and vivid adaptation of Norton's work--I know I was. (Without spoiling too much that hasn't been shown in the trailers, I have three words for those in the know: Spiller. Stream. Teapot.) And those unfamiliar with the material will find plenty to love in this version. It's hard to believe that this confident, solid work is the first film of a freshman director.
For the first time in several years, I feel real confidence in the ability of Studio Ghibli to live strongly beyond its celebrated founders' legacies. Here's hoping this little film is a huge success, as it so richly deserves to be.
The dark cavern was the bedroom of our supporting lead, Sho, a boy with a brave but rapidly failing heart; but at the moment, I was standing in the lovingly handmade boots of our heroine and main character, Arrietty the Borrower. It was her first time exploring a human habitation, no small task when you stand barely as tall as a child's finger, and it was impossible not to feel some of her sense of awe and wonder at the gigantic world unfolding around her.
This newest Ghibli film is filled with such tiny people, but nevertheless stands a cut above the studio's recent releases ("Howl's Moving Castle", "Tales from Earthsea", even "Ponyo"), delivering a warm and evocative experience that stays with the viewer long after leaving the theater.
Pacing and plot have been stumbling blocks for Ghibli in recent years, with their otherwise delightful films spinning wildly out of control in visually fascinating but bewildering finales. "Arrietty" thankfully breaks this pattern. The film is beautifully paced and stays true to the spirit of its source material, establishing an engaging world and then carrying the viewer through a well-crafted tale that twists here and there without flying off the tracks before coasting to an ending that borrows nicely from the original while adding a few touches that feel just right. No incomprehensible final act here, just satisfying storytelling.
However, what really makes the film a winner, in my opinion, is its masterful use of atmosphere. The sense of the balmy, lazy, sun- and rain-drenched Japanese summertime is beautifully conveyed and pervades every scene, helped along by Corbel's warm and wistful Celtic-styled soundtrack and gentle vocals, but just as memorable and far more unique is the sense of sheer scale.
Since the beginning of filmmaking, plenty of movies have tackled the special effects challenge of portraying tiny people in a human-sized world, but although they've integrated their miniature stars more and more skillfully into their surroundings, few have given such a sense of the sheer size of those surroundings from the heroes' vantage. There's no such disconnect here, and Ghibli uses the versatility of animation to their full advantage. The view as Arrietty peers over the edge of a kitchen cabinet is dizzying. Scenes of climbing inside the hollow wall joists feel as hazardous as a documentary on spelunking. Coming in from the rain, Arrietty impatiently brushes clinging water droplets as big as her hands from her hair and clothes. The rustling of Sho's clothing as he stands or sits is like the unfurling of a schooner's sail in the wind, and speaking human voices (although not pitched down to the uncomfortable point that full realism might require) are sometimes underscored with an unsettling rumble. I left the film with a heightened awareness of my own vast(?) size, scanning around me for spots where a Borrower might hide in the theater lobby or creep out to fetch stray popcorn kernels.
Inhabiting this gorgeous world are plenty of charming characters: brave and spirited Arrietty, who shinnies up curtains like a monkey and draws her borrowed pin to stare down danger with a sound like Errol Flynn unsheathing a blade; her hard-working and stoically affectionate father, Pod, and fretful but loving mother, Homily; the young human Sho who longs for a friend as he ponders the possibility of his own extinction as well as the Borrowers'; his gentle-spirited aunt and their grubby-fingered housekeeper, who both have their own reasons to wish to see a "tiny person"; and an unexpected visitor who brings startling news to Arrietty's family.
Fans of the book series will be delighted with the film's respectful and vivid adaptation of Norton's work--I know I was. (Without spoiling too much that hasn't been shown in the trailers, I have three words for those in the know: Spiller. Stream. Teapot.) And those unfamiliar with the material will find plenty to love in this version. It's hard to believe that this confident, solid work is the first film of a freshman director.
For the first time in several years, I feel real confidence in the ability of Studio Ghibli to live strongly beyond its celebrated founders' legacies. Here's hoping this little film is a huge success, as it so richly deserves to be.