Studio Ghibli and the Art of Feeling Seen
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Image description: The logo of legendary Japanese animation studio, Studio Ghibli, the subject of today's post. |
If you’ve been reading the blog for a while, you’ve probably
heard me mention my relationship with Studio Ghibli, the famous Japanese
animation studio – at least in passing. Admittedly, I haven’t done many posts
about the studio’s films, in large part because I discovered them much later in
life and because my education on the subject is still continuing. But I have
done a few posts, chiefly talking about the films of famed visionary director
and co-founder of the studio, Hayao Miyazaki, and how much these movies have
impacted me despite not growing up with them.
At the time of writing this post, Studio Ghibli has been in
the news for a number of reasons. Chief among these reasons is the recent
update to the Artificial Intelligence chatbot ChatGPT which now allows it to
mimic Miyazaki’s iconic art style, something which has thoroughly disgusted
Ghibli fans (myself included) thanks to how it not only poaches the genuine
artistic creativity and labor of the Ghibli animators, but due to how much it
flies in the face of Miyazaki’s own preferences and philosophies. But there are
other far more pleasant ways that Ghibli has been very visible right now, such
as the record-breaking IMAX showing of Princess Mononoke in March of
this year, or due to the fact that 2025 marks the studio’s 40th anniversary.
However, although all of these things have made Ghibli
especially top of mind for me right now, there are other reasons why I’ve been
thinking about the works of the studio recently. One of the biggest reasons why
I felt the need to talk about the studio right now is because of ongoing
thoughts and feelings I’ve been having lately, as well as things I’ve seen
online, which have contributed to these feelings. As such, I couldn’t help but
insert this unexpected conversation into the middle of the established slate of
posts for the year and do something I’ve never really done before.
Usually, when I write a blog post, I do my best to feature
my own thoughts and feelings as much as possible, or the thoughts and feelings
of people I personally know. When I do reference the opinions of outside sources,
it’s either through cited research or through heavily redacted examples – like
screenshots of YouTube comments I want to highlight for a specific post or a
sampling of an opinion I feel needs to be unpacked. I usually do this because I
worry about misrepresenting someone in my interpretation of their work, or
alternately because I don’t wish to cite a source that turns out to espouse
views that might go against my own value system.
Today, however, I want to share a few videos that I saw
recently on a whim and which I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. They
come from a YouTube channel called The Take, which is a pop culture analysis
channel that has been appearing on my YouTube feed for a while now and whose
videos about Ghibli deeply intrigued me. I began watching these videos and was
blown away by some of their analysis, inspiring me to want to give my own take
on the subject (no pun intended) as an aspec fangirl and as a blogger who
likewise loves to analyze pop culture.
Disclaimer before we get started: I am in no way affiliated
with The Take and, due to only finding them recently, only have a passing
familiarity with them. I am not speaking for them, merely showcasing and
interpreting their analysis and discussing the way their analysis has resonated
with me. Additionally, I haven’t seen a few of the Ghibli movies they mention
in their analysis, and as such I somewhat rely on their descriptions rather
than my own.
Of course, due to the nature of my blog, I am also zeroing
in specifically on their commentary about love in Ghibli stories, meaning I may
be largely sidestepping other parts of their analysis that are not relevant to
what I want to discuss. I am in no way attempting to diminish the other
important elements of their analysis and of the movies they’re discussing,
merely focusing for my own purposes. Whatever the case, I highly
recommend their videos, especially those about Studio Ghibli and in particular the
two I’m going to be discussing here. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy my
analysis of their amazing take on Studio Ghibli, love, and what we can learn
from how the studio’s films celebrate the diversity of this emotion.
Video #1 – All
About Ponyo
While it might make more sense to look at The Take’s larger video about love in Ghibli films first, I want to start with their more specific take and then expand outward – in this case, their video “Studio Ghibli’s Ponyo – Why We Must Protect the Natural World.” As the title suggests, this video is all about the 2008 film Ponyo, and it explores how the pure love shared between its child characters expands out into its powerful environmental message.
The film takes place in a coastal town where a
goldfish-like little creature encounters a five-year-old boy named Sosuke, who
rescues her when she becomes trapped in a glass jar that washes up on the
beach. Sosuke names her “Ponyo,” and promises to protect her, but Ponyo’s
desire to become human and return to land causes a dramatic imbalance in the
natural world around them, something which constitutes a clear threat to
Sosuke’s town. The only way balance can be restored is if Sosuke proves to be
true in his love for Ponyo, but if he is not, she will be lost forever.
While the plot of the story bears obvious resemblance to the
story of The Little Mermaid as told by Hans Christian Anderson, the
video by The Take points out how most stories about mermaids or similar
creatures are markedly different than this film. Because Ponyo’s two
main characters are young children, it completely abandons the usual trajectory
of most mermaid-centric stories, wherein the mermaid and their usually-human
love interest share a romantic and/or sexual love. Instead, what Sosuke and Ponyo
share is a pure, unconditional love that then serves as a microcosm for the
love people should show the natural world.
For instance, when Sosuke rescues Ponyo at the beginning of
the film, he views this as the start of a responsibility he has towards her,
vowing to love and protect her, even though he knows it’s a big deal. By tying
the love Sosuke feels for Ponyo to the love he – and all people – should feel
for nature, it seems like the story values love much more highly than just a
simple feeling. Rather, it allows love to be a giving, valuable, and important
force for good, and it fosters a partnership between the two children that is
to their benefit and to the benefit of the world around them.
The video also explores the classical ancient Greek
conceptualizations of love, pointing out that many stories emphasize Eros (the
more sexualized, passionate desire). However, this film deliberately having
children as its protagonists means it gets to focus on Philia love – which is a
deep bond of platonic love and friendship. They also mention that the film
focuses on other important type of love such as the love of family (which the
Greeks termed Storge) and Agape (empathetic, unconditional, self-sacrificing
love), not just between Ponyo and Sosuke, but between many of the characters of
the film.
“In showcasing these different forms of connection and
almost entirely ignoring Eros,” the video argues, “Ponyo challenges the
traditional hierarchy of love that values sexualized romantic love above
everything else.” Instead, the movie emphasizes a much more meaningful form of
unconditional love, respect, and responsibility. Even though Sosuke and Ponyo
are children, the equal relationship they share is mutually beneficial to them,
and thus makes their relationship a lot healthier than many mermaid/human romances
– and, I would argue, many romances in general.
However, this type of respect and better treatment is
something that is present in various forms through the Ghibli canon, especially
Miyazaki’s films, something which The Take also beautifully unpacks. From the
friendships of child characters much like the ones found in Ponyo to
more fully fleshed out romances like the one in my first and favorite Ghibli
film, Howl’s Moving Castle, love in Studio Ghibli films is about so much
more than attraction, desire, or mutual spark. Rather, these relationships are so
much more.
Video #2 – How
Ghibli Does Romance
In both of the videos central to this post, The Take shares the following quote from Hayao Miyazaki, taken from his book Starting Point: “I have become skeptical of the unwritten rule that just because a boy and girl appear in the same feature, a romance must ensue. Rather, I want to portray a slightly different relationship, one where the two mutually inspire each other to live. Then, perhaps, I’ll be closer to portraying a true expression of love.”
As an American, for whom the cultural ethos around me almost
always seems to be highly oversexualized and overromanticized, Miyazaki’s
philosophy is almost overwhelming to me. It goes beyond the idea that romance
isn’t essential; rather, it turns that statement into an affirmation that other
portrayals are more complete, or that romance can still exist as long as it has
a true depth at its core. But just in case I wasn’t done being floored by
quotes, in their video “Love, According to Studio Ghibli Films,” The Take
doubles down on this philosophy by noting that “for Miyazaki, true love can
often be aromantic, and the takeaway is spiritual maturity over
everything else.”
They then go on to detail their belief that true love as
portrayed by Studio Ghibli (especially in Miyazaki’s films) has three main
tenets: A spiritual connection that’s really friendship, the commitment to
help each other become better individuals, and equality between the two people
in the relationship. This doesn’t only apply to romantic couples, but to
non-romantic ones as well, as their earlier statement about Ghibli’s
often-aromantic take on love implies. In fact, the video specifically
highlights four couples from various films whose bond is more platonic than
romantic: Sheeta and Pazu from Castle in the Sky, Kiki and Tombo from Kiki’s
Delivery Service, the aforementioned Ponyo and Sosuke from Ponyo,
and Chihiro and Haku from Spirited Away.
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Image description: Kiki and Tombo share a laugh in Kiki's Delivery Service |
The video details the ways in which all of these relationships are more heavily emphasized as friendship dynamics, which in many cases isn’t surprising given the characters are children, but is nevertheless extremely refreshing. We don’t have to look at these dynamics and assume that a romance will eventually form, which is something we don’t even have to automatically assume with older couples as well. For instance, Chihiro and Haku separate when Chihiro leaves the spirit world, but we see something similar in Princess Mononoke with San and Ashitaka, whom I’ve mentioned on the blog before, proving this isn’t something Ghibli only does for its child characters.
The Take mentions these “couples” separating in both Spirited
Away and Princess Mononoke with another quote that I found deeply
affirming. “This sends the message that loving someone doesn’t always mean
giving up your life to be with them,” the video says. “These portraits might
inspire us to reconceive of coupledom, not as something we seek because of a
comforting companionship we get, but more in terms of the positive impact we
can make by joining forces with someone who shares our deepest motivations.” This
is what they mean when they speak of the spiritual connection that Ghibli love
stories center around, something which flows naturally into their second pillar
of the studio’s love stories.
The second point they mention – the commitment to helping each other become better individuals – is central to so many of these stories and the bond between the two characters is what allows them to achieve self-actualization. San and Ashitaka from Princess Mononoke once again prove this point very well. The film centers on the conflict between humans and the forest, which is being actively corrupted by the influence of humans, both intentionally and unintentionally. San, a human girl who views herself as a denizen of the forest because she was raised by wolves, hates all humans and fights against them, whereas Ashitaka wants nothing more than to see the humans and the creatures of the forest live in peace with one another.
Throughout the film, the two manage to build a deep trust in one another that helps carry them through the difficult times they find themselves in, despite the distrust that once existed there. In so doing, they inspire one another to keep pursuing what is right and what they believe in, something which the movie emphasizes far more than an actual explicit love connection. As I once discussed in a post titled “Non-Traditional Relationships I Love,” the movie makes it clear that Ashitaka loves San – and the original Japanese text of the film even has San confirm she feels the same way, something which is not as explicitly stated in the English dub. However, as The Take points out, the bond they share doesn’t mean they feel the need to give up everything about themselves for each other, nor does it mean they have to live out a stereotypical “happy ending.”
This is something they also mention in regards to Ponyo,
where they point out that the movie does not frame Ponyo’s choice to become
human as something she does in order to change herself. Rather, it’s “becoming
what she was always meant to be.” They go on to discuss that “loving and
accepting someone as they are allows them to truly be their authentic self,”
which also happens in Spirited Away between Chihiro and Haku.
The film centers on the young Chihiro finding herself thrust
into the world of spirits and trying to fight to retain her identity and save
her parents. Here, Chihiro’s struggle to not forget her name and identity –
which would trap her in the world of spirits forever – is aided by Haku, a more
obvious example of the theme, as he is literally helping her be her authentic
self. She does likewise for him, as he cannot remember his identity, but she
helps him remember that he is the spirit of a river that was destroyed when
apartments were built where it once stood, which is why he can no longer recall
this part of himself.
While these examples are more obvious forms of the pair
helping each other become their true, authentic selves, they do this in other
ways by believing in each other and using that belief to sustain them, as well
as using the lessons they teach each other to grow stronger as people. It is
through Haku’s assistance that Chihiro is able to become braver and navigate
the spirit world, while Chihiro’s belief in Haku’s goodness and her desire to
protect him save and sustain him throughout the story.
Of course, my favorite Studio Ghibli film and one of my favorite movies period is Howl’s Moving Castle, a film which does include romance as a central part of the plot, but that doesn’t mean it embodies these attributes any less. If anything, it’s a perfect example of how love in Ghibli films works, as their romance is not based primarily on physical attraction, but rather on the ability they have to make each other better people.
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Image description: An iconic image of Howl and Sophie in Howl's Moving Castle |
Howl begins the movie as a somewhat immature and rather self-absorbed wizard who uses his magic primarily for his own comfort and his own ability to escape the world, but at his core he is indeed a kind and even sacrificing person; meanwhile, Sophie lives in a society where she is considered plain and unassuming, and so she has learned to be timid and isolated as a result. But throughout the course of the film, the belief Howl and Sophie show in each other allow them to embrace the best parts of themselves, allowing Howl to become more courageous as he stands up for the people who matter most to him, and allowing Sophie to become more confident and fearless.
This equal exchange in which both members of the pair are
able to help each other become better is also an example of the equality they
share, the third point mentioned in the video. When discussing both equality
and friendship, the video references the thoughts of the classical Greek
philosopher Aristotle, who emphasized that these two things are inherently
linked. Trust, respect, and shared responsibility are the building blocks of a
friendship built on trust, with these things helping to keep a relationship in
balance. This is displayed numerous times in Ghibli love stories of all kinds.
To quote the video, “In Ghibli love stories, both parties
are equally capable of and responsible for protecting each other from physical,
spiritual, or emotional harm.” As such, we see male heroes in Ghibli films in
the role of compassionate caregivers, willing to show their emotions and
vulnerability, and we likewise see female heroes who are able to fight for what
they believe. All of this is deeply reflective of Miyazaki’s own philosophy that
his strong female characters “need a friend or a supporter, but never a savior.”
While I’m not at all surprised that Miyazaki chooses to
frame the partnerships his female characters seek as ones of friendship and
support rather than love or desire, I’m nevertheless immensely buoyed by it. In
my eyes, Studio Ghibli is an animation studio that easily produces some of the
most timeless and beautiful pieces of art in film history; to know that within
their art are the types of stories I have been yearning for and advocating for throughout
my life is a feeling that is almost impossible to describe. To know this art
exists and is consumed by people of all kinds is proof to me that these
feelings resonate deeply, and to see them analyzed by people who understand and
celebrate that is invaluable.
My Take on Why
This Matters
Perhaps me just describing these videos downplays their
significance, but I don’t mean to understate how extraordinary I find these
videos – and how important the analysis found within them truly is. While I of
course have no idea if anyone who works for The Take is aspec, regardless of
whether they are or not, I have rarely seen such aspec-friendly analysis so
beautifully and thoughtfully presented as the analysis delivered in these
videos, and it’s clear I’m not the only aspec person with whom these thoughts
resonated.
Especially in the “Love, According to Studio Ghibli” video,
there are many aspec people who express appreciation not just for the video and
its analysis, but for Studio Ghibli as a whole – and you do not need to scroll
far to find these comments. While of course there are one or two trolls buried
among these comments, these are few and far between, especially when compared
to the support and to the amount of aspec people who express how much they feel
seen in the works of Miyazaki, something which I find incredibly significant.
As someone who grew up with Disney movies, I find it quite common for people to try and compare the two studios – these videos do so, many of the people in their comments do so, and even I have done so. Admittedly, that is a bit of an unfair comparison, as the two studios are rooted in deeply different cultures and have different goals; Disney could never do the things that Studio Ghibli does, mostly because they don’t want to, and exist in a different context.
But at the same time, as much as the two studios each have
their own merits and should be allowed to stand on their own two feet without
comparisons, it’s difficult not to compare and contrast the differences the way
these videos do, or the way people in their comments section inevitably end up
doing. I think that’s not only because the two studios are titans of the
animation industry or because the ideas put forth by Ghibli are so different
from the ones we’ve come to know from Disney. Rather, I think some of these
comparisons come about because Ghibli offers us an alternate worldview from the
traditional Disney fairytale romance. While I love a good Disney love story as
much as anyone and I think a lot of analysis does oversimplify the elements of
these stories for quick talking points, it cannot be denied that Ghibli offers
us something different – and, I would argue, something more.
It’s not a coincidence that The Take calls Ghibli love
aromantic or that dozens of aspec people are discussing how these movies spoke
to them or helped them feel seen in their own identities. I believe all of
these things play out in a way that I feel Disney movies do more rarely, and
which some Disney fans are perhaps less willing to see (more on that in my next
post). And for that reason, I also know it’s not a coincidence that I feel
increasingly drawn to Studio Ghibli films the older I get and the more dissatisfied
I become with our current media landscape.
After much deliberation, I called this post “Studio Ghibli
and the Art of Feeling Seen,” but it’s just as easy to describe this feeling as
being seen in art, one of the most powerful and affirming feelings out there.
As I said at the beginning of this post, my Studio Ghibli journey is only just
starting, but there’s something deeply comforting in knowing this is a journey
that has room for people like me. There’s also something comforting in knowing
that, on this journey, I will encounter even more beautiful stories that focus on
Philia love rather than Eros or on friendship rather than passion, and that
these stories respect their characters, their storytelling, and, in so doing, likewise
respect me. And above all, it’s just as comforting to know that other people
feel this way and put their analysis out there for people like me to gain
inspiration from.
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Image description: Chihiro and Haku from Spirited Away |
In my introduction, I mentioned that Studio Ghibli’s iconic style is being copied by ChatGPT, but one thing that can never be copied is the unique values and messages the studio crafts with such love and dedication. In a world of advanced technology such as this, I believe the works of Ghibli remind us of the realness of connection, and that those connections can come in many forms. Their stories remind us to believe in the value we have as people and to believe in the world around us in ways that are not often present in media.
Ghibli will always be more than just a recognizable art
style to capitalize on. At their core, Ghibli movies are wishes for a better
future, all of them saturated in hope, passion, and yes, love. As such, there
is no better quote to end on than one from the Studio Ghibli love video:
“Whereas so many textbook happily ever afters have long suggested to us that
love is a prize to be won, Studio Ghibli movies are essentially tutorials for
love as a process that needs careful attention and nurturing. […] These movies
teach us that love is more complicated and harder than attraction at first
sight or grand romantic gestures, but also more satisfying and sustaining.”
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