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Mononoke-hime (Princess Mononoke) is tied as my favourite Ghibli film (along with Mimi wo Sumaseba) and also happens to be one of my favourite works of fiction altogether.  It is such an expansive story with a rich mythological backdrop and epic scale – but without sacrificing the more intimate, human elements.  No single scene feels out of place, no piece of dialogue feels unecessary.  The viewer is utterly captivated and brought into this world that feels so real despite the brain telling you that it must be fiction.  I think that other Miyazaki films, such as Porco Rosso or Laputa, show us that he is on a brilliant level of filmmaking.  But to me, Mononoke-hime goes beyond even the high standard of those films – it is a film that must have been the work of a genius with a superb natural ability for visual storytelling.

I’m writing this post now because I just rewatched the film (my first time was a few years ago) and it’s excellence is a firm memory at this moment.  My memories of anime, films, or books tend to fade a bit as the years go by, and I ask myself if they really were as great as my mind remembers them.  Well, Mononoke-Hime certainly passed that test.  Those of you unfamiliar with this film, or other Ghibli films, should be warned.  Mononoke-hime goes beyond the level of most animation (both Western as well as other non-Ghibli anime).  It has a dense plot and no clear distinctions of morality.  I don’t want to go too far into the story because I think it’s best experienced on your own.  The core idea is a battle between nature and mankind, but it isn’t obviously sentimental, nor does it paint the humans as villains.

Miyazaki’s portrayal of nature is beautiful, and the mythological aspects of the strong really lend power to this side of the story.  The animals in the film speak, but the speech is not lip-synced, which was a very good choice.  These aren’t talking animals – they are gods of the forest, and their manner of speaking, without moving their mouths, extends their image as otherwordly beings.  But what was by far one of the most powerful parts of the film is the shishigami, the forest spirit, revered by all the creatures of the forest and despised by Lady Eboshi, who leads the nearby town.  The very first scene in which the shishigami appears is one of the greatest moments in the film.  The camera slowly pans forward, you become Ashitaka as he squints forward, and the outline of the spirit comes into view before the sunlight.  When an element of the story is given such weight and importance, it’s a difficult task to present a visual image that lives up to it, but Miyazaki and Ghibli succeeded, and I suggest you don’t look up images prior to watching, and experience the beautiful scenes with the shishigami yourself.

I don’t know how else to explain the film that would give justice to it’s brilliance.  It is a work of art, as simple as that.  Now, the second part of this post is a list of three of my absolute favourite scenes from the film (though, of course, in a way, every scene is my favourite.  Was that too corny?  Clearly, this section is going to be heavy on the spoilers.

No.1 Ashitaka carries the weakened workers from Irontown through the forest

This is one of the first scenes where we truly get an extended look at the lush portrayal of the forest, and the appearance of the kodama, small forest spirits which indicate its health, add a sense of enchantment to the scene.  It is also the first appearance of the shishigami – Ashitaka’s wonder becomes our own as we get but a brief look at the spirit.

No.2 Ashitaka with the Wolf clan after the first battle at the Ironworks

After the very tense battle where we first see San battling Lady Eboshi (a fight which is broken up by Ashitaka), the volume is lowered to near silence as Ashitaka carries San to a secluded area along with the wolves.  The sky is dark.  Ashitaka, somewhat naively, tries to talk San out of her hatred for the people of Irontown but his strength is gone, and he faints.  And although San instinctively doesn’t trust and hates all humans, she dissuades the wolves from eating him – perhaps sensing something different in him.  Immediately prior to this we were in the midst of the townspeople at the Ironworks, and heard their hatred for the animal spirits and the devastation they had caused, and a few moments later, here we are, watching an intimate scene between those same spirits.  The film consistently juggles between the two perspectives and never takes the easy way out of declaring one of them as evil or good.

No.3 Ashitaka and Moro speak under the moonlight

Again, this scene reminds us of the good judgement in not lip-syncing the voices of the animal gods as they speak, which would have trivialized scenes such as this one.  This is certainly the most haunting and emotional scene in the film (from my point of view).  The fact that the beautiful title song plays in the background, sung with the pure voice of Mera Yoshikazu is a significant factor.  But the writing and emotional in the context of the film is a greater factor.  Note that this is really the first time when Ashitaka speaks directly to Moro, San’s “mother”.  It is also the first time that Moro speaks to a human other than San, one of the people she despises, and would kill without thought if it weren’t for the knowledge that he meant something to San.

There are many other powerful and emotional scenes in the film of course, but a fill list would take forever to write.  These are three of the most important to me.

And now for the final part of this post:

Mononoke-hime (Backstage)

Something I just discovered was a documentary of Mononoke-hime which detailed the years of production it took to make this film – from the very first drawings, through the repetitive editing done by Miyazaki every day, through the voice acting and music production and up until the release.  It’s a wonderful exposition into what goes exactly into making a brilliant piece of art like this.  It also gives us a portrait of Miyazaki himself, the man responsible for these wonderful films.  People who know him through Totoro or Laputa and similar films may have an image of a charming, delightful old man, carrying infants in his arms.  That couldn’t be farther from his true self.  At first glance, you get the impression of a somewhat gruff, chain-smoking and impolite man, and wonder if he could truly be the creator of such innocent, idealistic works (in the case of his other films).  But if you look deeper, you can see that he truly is a man of depth, one who truly does love children, and as pessimestic as he may be, has a strong conscience and a sense of responsibility to the world around him through the messages of his films.

In this excerpt, Miyazaki teaches the younger animators about how to draw the motion of a sword, or rather, swinging a sword.  Throughout the documentary you can see the amount of respect that the staff have for him as an animator.  This video contains scenes from an exam which took place (for promotions).  Miyazaki didn’t feel that anyone passed the test, so no one was promoted.  We also get to see Miyazaki’s softer side as he cooks meals for the crew.

Of course, even though all the staff respect Miyazaki, that doesn’t mean they always agree with him.  Here’s an interesting part of the documentary where several employees disagree with Miyazaki’s revision of a scene near the end.  He disagrees with them very vividly at first, but eventually softens to the idea.

But the second half of the video is by far one of the most captivating parts of this documentary.  It’s the recording of the song sung by Mera Yoshikazu, composed by Joe Hisaishi.  When Mera first begins to sing, he does it in a very dramatic way, as a trained singer naturally tends to do.  But Hisaishi tells him that the song is intended to be sung simpler, as a murmur, or whisper.  The message is difficult to understand, because Mera doesn’t quite know how to interpret this and sings in a mechanical, detached manner.  He is not happy singing this way, and Hisaishi isn’t happy with this new emotionless recording.  So Miyazaki enters the studio to consult with the singer and explain the meaning of the song.  He tells Mera that it is supposed to be an echo of Ashitaka’s heart, his feelings for San.  The next recording is a completely new sound, inspired by Miyazaki’s words and with true understanding of what the song is trying to convey.

The full documentary goes well over 30 or so youtube parts (ten minutes each) and I highly reccomend it to any fan of Ghibli, not just Mononoke-hime fans.  Enjoy!