If I Could Choose the Kind of Storyteller I Could Be, I Would Be Him

And maybe he could make you a better writer, too.

I went out of the cinema that day mesmerized by the imagination, beauty, and craft I witnessed. It made me happy and inspired.

“Spirited Away” left me breathless and starving for more so I watched all of Miyazaki’s movies within the few months that followed. I was 30.

His animations are a treat for children of any age, you and I included.

I couldn’t wait for my children to grow enough to be able to follow a movie (about the age of 4 or 5), so I could experience them discovering these enchanting stories, one after the other over a span of years.

We started with “My Neighbour Totoro”, of course, in a loop, for many months, maybe a couple of years. Then there was a Nausica period, then Mononoke, a Calcifer era, and so on, to end with Chihiro. My boys would discuss and impersonate the protagonists not at all bothered by the fact that the heroes were girls.

It would melt my heart to see how deeply they were touched by them and how inspired in their play and interactions.

If only I could tell the stories like he does.

1. Stories rooted in real life but populated with magical creatures.

Whether it is moving to another town and changing schools, or relocating to the countryside to be closer to the mum who is sick in a hospital, the stories have a very ordinary starting point.

Then extraordinary things start happening, magical creatures appear in the most natural ways, as if they were always there, but only some, only children, could see and interact with them. Some are spirits from Japanese Shinto tradition, and others pure products of Miyazaki’s imagination.

The seamless existence of the two worlds gives his stories a very particular atmosphere where everything is possible, flying, talking to animals, changing worlds by simply opening the door, shape-shifting.

“We are born with infinite possibilities, only to give up on one after another,” Miyazaki said.

2. No “good versus evil” divisions.

Neither human protagonists nor the spirits and other creatures are good or evil. They are all humanly imperfect.

Those that seem bad at first glance turn out to be troubled and rejected or misunderstood. They all have their place and deserve respect.

Even the witches are not entirely bad. They are human in their love for their weird children. Miyazaki makes them look more like caricatures, depicting their characters by exaggerating their features or the way they move.

The artist is much more preoccupied with the conflict between our destructive civilization and the powerful and mysterious Mother Nature.

3. Storylines that defy logic.

“Logical storylines sacrifice creativity,” said the animation master.

Children get it naturally because they have the openness and the sense of wonder. There is no fear of what is different or looks strange or weird. They trust their hearts.

4. True observation rather than assumptions, and unparalleled attention to detail.

Miyazaki does not imagine how a 5-year-old girl picks herself up after falling. He observes the tiniest moves in real life and is ready and willing to draw, by hand, dozens and hundreds of images to translate them into animation. The essence of his protagonists is in the way they move.

That is why every single scene in his movies is filled with truth, life, and energy.

No face in a scene of a crowd is left undrawn, no matter how tiny it is. And even the smallest hair on an insect’s head moves with the wind.

Miyazaki is passionately in love with his craft.

5. Strong emotional resonance.

All the love of humanity and nature and the craftsmanship poured into making them alive, leave a strong emotional imprint.

But it is not the scenes packed with action and magic that impact us the most. It is the scenes of silence and stillness that touch our soul.

Two sisters waiting at a bus stop in the rain by the strange forest creature. Chihiro riding on a sea train with a spirit sitting by her side. Mononoke observing a spirit god in the shape of a deer by the water in the forest. Two children holding hands looking at each other, and not saying a word in perfect understanding. There are always several of these “breathing” scenes disseminated in each of his films.

These “empty” spaces grant us, the spectators, the power to release any emotion we need to feel into that silence, and in doing so we become more than just spectators.

6. Subversiveness.

The leading roles in the majority of his films belong to independent-minded, resourceful young girls who fight for what they believe and trust their hearts. Miyazaki created them much before feminism became mainstream, and in a country whose tradition is rooted in patriarchy.

He was ahead of his time with other, still very relevant topics, too:

• the disastrous consequences of the way we live on our planet, and nature’s rage as a response
• the compassion for every creature that walks the earth
• the power of friendship and collaboration despite the differences and strangeness.

An artist friend once told me:

“The artist’s responsibility in this world is to be subversive, to question and challenge relentlessly.”

This is what Miyazaki does, and in the most poetic way that touches the hearts of any generation.

He is however much humbler when he talks about his legacy:

“If I can entertain people, maybe I deserve to exist.”

7. Universal message that glorifies life.

“Live as fully as possible, that’s all we can do.”

A new, and allegedly the last film of the animation master is about to be released: “The Boy and the Heron”.

It is going to be a special day for the three of us.

A passion that we share, my teenage boys and I.

Thank you, dear Mr Miyazaki.