#30 Spirited Away - The latest film from Hayao Miyazaki

It's odd that a movie so filled with the fingerprints of Japanese culture could feel so universal. Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi (Spirited Away to American audiences) follows the adventures of Chihiro, a young girl who seems just as bored and spoiled as most American Millenials. When she's thrown into outrageous circumstances—her parents are turned into pigs as punishment for eating a buffet intended for vacationing spirits—Chihiro is forced to grow up and take responsibility for herself and the people she cares for.

I see an early scene as a microcosm of the story's overwhelming arc. Chihiro finds herself trapped in the spirit world, with only one ally, a young boy named Haku. Haku has helped hide Chihiro from angry spirits and points her in the direction she needs to go—down a precarious stairway that overlooks a long, long drop to the ocean. Chihiro has already been confronted with a menagerie of spooks and monsters, but the physical reality of the descent is daunting. She stretches her leg downward, slowly feeling her way to the next step. The frightened, young girl can barely bring herself to look downward. Joe Hisaishi’s score here is playful, practically taunting Chihiro for cowardice. Another tentative step brings the protagonist another agonizing inch toward her goal, hundred of feet below. That's when Miyazaki pulls the rug out from under his heroine. Chihiro loses her footing and scrambles frantically to regain it, only to find herself in a headlong, uncontrolled dash down flight after flight of rickety stairs. Her trip ends as quickly as it began when Chihiro slams face-first into a wall. Her face melts in a comedic take that screams exasperation. The scene is Miyazaki's way of saying, "This silly character is going to wind up in some perilous situations, but don't worry, nothing's gonna happen that she won't be able to walk off."

Like many Hayao Miyazaki films, Spirited Away is filled with wondrous creatures, beautiful animation and a general appreciation of the irony of the human condition. A friend of mine accused Miyazaki-san of using a shorthand for the cast of Spirited Away, one that demands a knowledge of his other films to understand the motivations of his characters. I disagree. The people (and creatures) in his beautiful films live, breath and act unlike any characters we see in modern cinema, not because they're types, but because they are real.