A review of 'The Boy and the Heron'


At a glance

  • The movie topped Japanese movie charts immediately after its release with hardly any marketing, save for a single poster. You’ll find just one trailer and teaser even for its global release.


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Hayao Miyazaki is arguably the single most influential animation director alive today, so it is no wonder that his latest film, The Boy and the Heron, has his followers all over the world excited.

The movie topped Japanese movie charts immediately after its release with hardly any marketing, save for a single poster. You’ll find just one trailer and teaser even for its global release. That’s it. And even then, the anticipation was palpable.

Such is the reach of the maestro of anime.

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The boy in the title is Mahito, the young son of a factory owner in wartime Japan. Mojito’s life is turned upside down with the loss of his mother in a fire at the hospital she was in. Compounding that with having to flee for his life with his father to the countryside and stay with his mother’s sister, one can easily see the trajectory of his character arc. Unable and unwilling to confront his grief and deal with his new normal, Mahito goes into a downward spiral of repressed anger and depression.

Here, the mysterious heron appears, teasing and taunting him, pulling him into the magical unknown. It is a common enough plot point in Miyazaki’s films that the protagonist goes to a new and unfamiliar place, eventually leading them to another world. The sisters Mei and Satsuki only meet Totoro when they leave home and move to the countryside. The same applies to Chihiro in Spirited Away, where she and her parents enter the spirit world while going to their new home.

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But this is where things are different. This is where things turn rather dark. Miyazaki’s films could be a touch scary before, but the world we are thrust into here can be disturbing.

Make no mistake, the fantasy realm in The Boy and the Heron is as rich and engrossing as any he’s ever created, but do not expect the simplicity of Kiki’s Delivery Service or the whimsy of Arietty.

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It is strange, like a sinister Wonderland where the Cheshire Cat is ready to maul every innocent who tumbles down that rabbit hole. It feels overly stuffed at times and only sometimes makes sense. And yet, when you realize that it doesn’t really have to make sense, is when it does, strangely. And when you stop trying to understand it and let yourself go along with it, you will appreciate it even more.

As expected, Miyazaki’s longtime collaborator, composer Joe Hisaishi, provides the musical score for the film. Much like the Speilberg-Williams pairing, which has given us several iconic movie themes, their partnership has gifted us with many moving and memorable pieces of music, of which his work here is the latest. His music on The Boy and the Heron is piano-centric, simple, straightforward, yet by no means plain or ho-hum. Its simplicity contrasts with the often overpowering chaos on screen to great effect.

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The pacing is a bit slow initially, establishing Mahito’s troubles. Aside from the secretive Heron, you don’t get that touch of magic until well into the film, but when it does start, it is non-stop.

The movie is about a boy becoming a man and learning how to deal with life. Like everyone else, he learns how to navigate the hardships thrown at him and, though scarred, comes out at the other end of the ordeal, all the better for it.

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Miyazaki supposedly retired 10 years ago when he released The Wind Rises. Then he suddenly hunkered down, and now we have The Boy and the Heron. Will he retire after this, finally? There are whispers that this will be his last hurrah. And there are hints in the movie that it is. Like Mahito, his father worked on supplying airplane parts during the war. Like Mahito, Miyazaki had to flee his home for some time as a child. Miyazaki doesn’t get very personal with his films, but much of his life here seems to ooze into the movie.

One character even openly says that he is waiting for a successor. It's an innocent enough line in a movie, but it's oddly applicable, given the timing. Perhaps he is ready to put down his pencil and brush and walk into the sunset. At over 80 years old, he certainly deserves it. And yet, who would pick them up after him?

And if he does retire, he would have left us with an unparalleled legacy and an amazing movie to cap it off with. And if he doesn’t, the world will always be waiting for his next swan song.