The
eleventh film in my continuing analysis of The Films of Hayao Miyazaki is the
World War II animated Biopic The Wind Rises. Critically understood as
Miyazaki’s Magnum Opus, Miyazaki’s latest film to date, was laborious in its
production, stirred up controversy, and is the most metatextual of any of
Miyazaki’s previous work. Central to this introspection is the thematic question
of struggle between creativity and practicality, and where the value of process
and product lie; in its expression, or its ability to be used? More somber and bleak than any of his other
work, The Wind Rises in its production, context and themes is the most
emotionally resonating film Miyazaki, and Ghibli in general, have ever
produced.
PLOT
After
a shared dream with legendary Italian plane designer Giovanni Caproni when he
was a boy, Jiro Horikoshi, vows to become an aeronautic engineer, striving to “make
something beautiful.” Reaching adulthood during World War II, Jiro becomes one
of Japan’s greatest engineers; eventually developing the famous Zero model
aircraft. Through his “ten years in the Sun”, Jiro struggles with the practical
applications of his creative outlet in a time of war: only finding solace in
the environmentally kismet relationship that develops between himself and Nahoko,
a Young painter with Tuberculosis. After
a number of tragic losses, Jiro, reflecting on his life, questions whether any
of it: successes, happiness, failures, and a complicated legacy, was ever worth
it.
HISTORICAL CONTEXT
The
historical context needed to understand The Wind Rises is twofold. Because
this is a biographical picture (loose though it is) there needs to be an
understanding of the context of production (in 2013) juxtaposed with the context
of that which it is depicting (1927-1944). Understanding the film on these
levels, clarifies the unjust criticism of those that think this film is Pro-war;
and elucidates on the complicated history Miyazaki has with World War II in
general.
Production
The beginning of
production on The Wind Rises marks the 6th “unretirement” of
Hayao Miyazaki. Originally deciding to
come back to create a sequel to Ponyo,
Miyazaki
was encouraged by Producer Suzuki to adapt his Manga about Jiro Horikoshi, as a
way to challenge children with ideas and concepts they have yet to understand,
or be familiar with.
Miyazaki’s Manga was a “self-confessed” hobby
as an aerophile. He was uncertain as to the films feature length potential as
most of the Manga was focused on the historical development of Japanese
aerospace in the early 20th century. However, once Miyazaki decided
to use the book The Wind has Risen by Tatsuo Hori to help fill in the
interpersonal relationships of his depiction of Jiro, (this is where the
character Nahoko and her suffering from Tuberculosis are added), Miyazaki felt
that he had a story worthy of a feature.
The production began in
2010, and much of it is captured in the fantastic documentary The
Kingdom of Dreams and Madness by Mami Sunada. The film is an inside look at the daily
activities/practices of Miyazaki, and his staff while working on the production
of The Wind Rises and Takahata’s The Tale of the Princess Kaguya. The emotional crux of the film, that influences
the animation Miyazaki uses in depicting Japan during World War II, comes in
the form of a letter a stranger writes to Miyazaki, recounting meeting Miyazaki’s
father during the evacuation of civilians after the US Nuclear bombing of Japan.
The stranger had been evacuated to Miyazaki’s house when Miyazaki’s family were
evacuated elsewhere. There, the stranger met Miyazaki’s father and was given
candy by the patriarch; along with some kind words. This letter resonates with Hayao Miyazaki so
much that he can barely respond, as it recontextualizes his own relationship
with his father and his ongoing relationship with his son. It is this amount of significance that
Miyazaki channels when he both talks about the importance of planes,[1] and the value of Jiro and
Nahoko’s relationship.
The Kingdom of Dreams and
Madness and its companion documentary completed in 2016, Hayao Miyazaki: The Never
Ending Man, chronicles Miyazaki’s journey in completing The
Wind Rises and beyond. Most of what captures the audience is the process of
such a genius like Miyazaki. Because he is such a perfectionist, making a film
can be at times exhilarating or agonizing. There is an image, an idea that
Miyazaki has in his own head, and by his own admission, has never seen these
images fully realized. After the Production of ‘Wind’ he even turned to
CGI to see if it had the ability to bring his ideas to full realization…they
did not. While it did not lead to an embrace of CGI, it did revitalize Miyazaki
enough to decide to come out of retirement, again, to give us the film that is
now in production: How
do you Live?
Documentaries’ Aside
For the good of humanity there needs
to be a documentary film crew, commissioned by the Japanese Government, to
follow Miyazaki around to record the pearls of wisdom that he randomly gives
out, and as an example about how one should comport their life.[2] Miyazaki lives in a modest
home, with the ability to walk to work every day. He has a ritualized routine
and begins his workday at 11am and works till 9pm. He has scheduled breaks for
walks and meals and only takes one day off a week; Sundays, when he cleans up
the local river. Through these documentaries we learn that Miyazaki lives the
themes that he spouts in all of his work. He keeps up on current events; scrap
booking the changes to his city during the Financial crisis of 2008 and the
Fukoshima Nuclear plant disaster. Yet, he remains introspective, pondering if
what he does as a filmmaker is worthwhile and can make a difference in the face
of such social issues. Still, he persists in his determination to transform
whatever is in his head, into a clear and unobstructed reality.
It is
amazing that Miyazaki has not had to sacrifice his control and creativity for
his level of success. His rejection of the typical corporate structure and
cultural mindset should be the model by which others should be judged. Early on,
when Ghibli as a studio was just getting started, he sat down with his
animators and basically stated that we are a studio that strives to break even;
to not necessarily make a profit. Miyazaki made it clear that the typical
Japanese “Salary Man” corporate ladder structure, would not be in place at
Ghibli. He ended the conversation by saying that “If you are seeking lifetime
salaried employment this is not the place for you. Corporations are nothing but
conduits for money.” Instead, the ‘Miyazakian’ Approach can be clearly summed
up in a sign that Miyazaki has around the Studio. It reads:
Quit if:
1. You
have No ideas
2. You
always Rely on Others
3. Shirk
Responsibility
4. Lack
Enthusiasm
This is what it means to be Miyazaki
Release and Controversies’
Upon the film’s release in
the United States on February 21st 2004, there were several
reviews that saw the film as “pro-war”.
These reviews display an unnuanced and limited understanding of the film. To
the authors of these reviews, the simple focus of the film on the life of Jiro Horikoshi,
the designer and creator of a plane that was used in the war, is in their
minds, tantamount to being supportive of the Japanese Government’s decisions to
use those planes for war. In a very oblique way, they may have a point. If the
plane didn’t exist, it could obviously not be used. But that does not mean that
it would have prevented the war, or the atrocities that were committed during
it. Secondly, this idea is directly addressed in the film in the dream
conversations that Jiro has with Caproni. The choice Jiro, and by extension, Miyazaki,
make is to not stifle creativity, art, and technological progress out of fear
of problematic practical applications (more on this in Social Analysis). Finally, this criticism of the film negates
the letter that Miyazaki and a number of animators wrote and signed to then PM
Shinzo Abe; who at the time was attempting to repatriate Japan through a change
to article 9 of the Japanese Constitution that vies for international peace. A
change to this article of the constitution, would allow them to grant more
powers to Japan’s Defense Forces[3] to protect themselves and
provide aid to allies.[4] Yet, regardless of this
letter (which branded Miyazaki a traitor by the Liberal Democratic Party of
Japan) Miyazaki admits to having a complicated relationship with Japan during
World War II; cherishing the advancements and creative technologies that came out
of that period, while as a pacifist, abhorring what those things were used for.[5]
The Wind Rises was
nominated for several awards including: Writing
at the Animation awards, and a nomination for "Best Animated
Feature" at the Academy Awards.[6] Joe Hisashi, the
film’s composer, was also honored with the Japan Academy Prize in
the category of Best Music Score. The criminally low amount of awards this
film received is due to the combination of US awards being a group masturbatory
process, within a culture of only recognizing international talent (outside the
US) once, as a legacy gift.
SOCIAL ANAYLSIS
The
Wind Rises is unique in its social analysis in that the majority of
Miyazaki films, being predominantly populated with magic and fantasy creatures,
is mostly metaphorical. With the fantastical elements regulated to dream
sequences, this is the Miyazaki film that is grounded in reality. Therefore,
the symbolism of what the characters mean in this Miyazaki film, intersects
with a real-life social analysis of Japan during World War II. Thus, we could easily talk about issues of
imperialism, economic collapse, Government control and oppression and the way
Bureaucracies can perpetuate all of it. These corruptible interlocking systems,
lead to atrocities for both wartime coalitions (Axis and Allies) beyond the
“usual violence of war”; such as the sexual slavery in Japan during world war
II (labeled ‘comfort
women ‘) as well as the US Japanese
internment.
However, since I am not a
Military analyst or a war historian, and in part that these ideas have already
been mulled over and written about incessantly, I have decided instead, to
focus on the central question that Miyazaki poses in this film: What is the
relationship between the creation of something, and how that thing is used. These are ideas that many scholars of popular
culture wrestle with. Usually, it is asking the question: “Should
we be able to separate the actions and behaviors of the Artist, from the art
that they produce.”. From Michael Jackson, the productions of
Harvey Weinstein, Woody Allen, Charlie Rose, Don Imus, Louis C.K. and Joss
Whedon,[7]
many of the creators of pop culture that we cherish have turned out to be trash
human beings. So, what is our next course of action? Do we boycott? This may be
easier if you do not have an emotional attachment to the product (especially
through Nostalgia). Yet, we rarely ask the question in reverse, as Miyazaki
does; what happens when the product is used and embraced in socio political
ways that its creator did not intend[8].
Miyazaki directly
addresses the above question in Jiro’s dream conversations with Caproni. As they wax poetic about the existence of the
pyramids, lack of transference in their work and letting
their creation speak for itself. In the end however, even
though Miyazaki has Caproni clearly state that planes should not be used for
war or to make money, he settles on planes being beautiful, cursed dreams;
that even though they were a major industrial feat of engineering, they
inevitably, given the systems that we live within, will be pragmatically folded
into society. At the time, this meant that anything that was worth putting
money into, would be those things that would help the war effort. Thus, Jiro’s
plane became a machine of death. Jiro illudes to this as a failure at the end
of the film, saying: “It all fell apart in the end, none of them came home.”
Caproni ominously responds: “They had nothing to come home to.” Given Japan’s
utter defeat and occupation after the war. One of the final shots of the film
is of Jiro walking among the wreckage of his creation, obliterated by their use
in war.
The imagery described
above, clearly places Miyazaki’s pacifist belief in the context of the futility
of war; that it warps and mutates something beautiful and brilliant into a
diseased shadow self of the original.
While, as I stated earlier, even this obvious declaration was lost on a
few reviewers at the time, Miyazaki addressed and was clear about his messaging
and intentions. Whereas
other creators of pop culture with heavy
socio-political subject matter, deflect having a definitive answer.
The problem with creators
fueling the ambiguity of their work, especially when it is being used for a
socio-political purpose (intentionally or not), is that it comes off as a
shield against criticism. By maintaining
the ambiguity of the messaging, it allows the content to have broader appeal,
and therefore be more profitable. Thereby, any clarity provided by the creators
may hurt the content’s appeal, interest and ultimately its bottom line. Additionally,
the more precise a creator is in their messaging, the more they are going to
have to defend their position and be questioned about the political nature of
their work[9].
It should be mentioned
that the reaction to Pop Culture is often politicized. Because Pop Culture is
soft power, the consumption of pop culture can inform our understanding of the
world. However, “The door swings both ways.”[10] and we also interpret
popular culture based upon our political social beliefs. This is confirmation
bias within content. We see messaging that reaffirms our own ideas, desires,
and beliefs. Because of this, if someone is being too vague or loose with their
messaging (see the above link) they may be criticized as being too glib or
flippant with the subject matter; because those who understand the soft power
of pop culture, and more acutely, understand the complexities of the subject a
piece of pop culture may be touching upon (however heavy) is careless, without
context. Again, this is an attempted deflection through an appeal to pop
culture as being mindless entertainment, or “turn your brain off fun.”; ignoring
that these pedagogies of pop culture consumption are shallow, and not universal
across populations.
Rather than run from the
political and potentially polarizing embrace of meaning and messaging for the
purpose of profit or protection; more creators need to stand behind their work
and their message like Miyazaki. Once we have a general acceptance of this
practice there is a clarity that comes with it. Creators will feel more
inclined to speak out against the unexpected, or undesired use, or inaccurate
interpretation of their work; while clearly presenting the material to the
public for what it is. That way, people can make an informed decision about
which pieces of pop culture they want to consume. This isn’t the most capitalist friendly
solution; and perhaps it shouldn’t be, given that capitalism is a part of the
problem.
CONCLUSION
During the time of
release of The Wind Rises, Disney still held the distribution rights for
all of the Ghibli catalog. Therefore, they were the ones to first release the blu-ray
in 2014. On this single disc there were poultry special features, scanned 2 k
resolution and mono audio tracks. It seemed that the “bells and whistles” that
Disney brought out in their Distribution and push for Spirited
Away, were nowhere to be seen for this release.[11] Whereas, the 2020 release
of The Wind Rises by Gkids (a Japanese animation studio, comprised of Ghibli
Alum) has a greater number of special features (including an episode of the
documentary Hayao Miyazaki: Ten Years with the Master), more
storyboards, Behind the scenes content, crisper image transfer and cleaner
audio track than the Disney release.
Miyazaki
is an animation genius, and The Wind Rises is his greatest and most
personal work. In the majority of
Miyazaki’s films, he has reinforced social thematic elements that are important
to him: environmentalism, humanism, equality and pacifism. Yet, it is only in
his latest work to date,[12] has Miyazaki tackled the
question that plagues all creators: Does their work have value, and was it
worth it to create? Given that I have spent time and energy over the course of two
and ½ years to explain the greatness and sociological relevance of Miyazaki and
his work; I as a scholar and fan, believe his work to be worth it. So should you.
It is a better alternative to anything
Disney has ever produced.
[2]
This was not my own idea. This was first brought to my attention during the
filmography retrospective of Miyazaki’s work on the Blank Check podcast episode
on these documentaries by host David Sims, critic for the Atlantic
[3] A
similar article (Article 96) was passed in 2014 to Amend the constitution
[4] As
of this writing, ballistic missiles and nuclear weapons are prohibited
[5]
Oppenheimer quote
[6] IT
LOST TO FUCKING ‘FROZEN’!
[7]
This one hurt me.
[8]
Red Pill Movement, Journey’s song used at Trump rallies, The origin of “Proud
Boys”, Roadhouse as a police teaching tool, Princess Leia’s image, Various
court cases where pop culture is used during argumentation
[9] To
be fair, this is a damned if you do, damned if you don’t, situation. If you are
vague in its messaging, creator’s will be tried to be pinned down. Once they
are pinned down, they will be criticized for their position
[10]
Ghostbusters (1984)
[11]
Disney may also have been annoyed that Miyazaki snubbed the Oscars for Spirited
away as an act of protest the Iraq war; when they have produced a lot of
content that was in support of the war.
[12]
How do you Live? is scheduled for release in 2023
