Top Ten Animated Films with Guest Writer Tucker Meijer: #6 Critics' Take
Here are Tucker’s take on my choice, Inside Out, and my take on his choice, Spirited Away. Below are our original posts.
Tucker’s Take on Jeremy’s #6: Inside Out
Jeremy’s terrific review of Inside Out conjures up a lot of different thoughts, some of which I will attempt to distill here. But, as you may recall in my earlier review of Inside Out, this movie brings up a lot of feelings that are difficult to put down on the page. So, while I’ll do my best to communicate them, forgive me if they come out as half-baked.
First, I’d like to talk a little bit about the concepts of timelessness and timeliness that Jeremy discusses in his film. For a moment, I’m going to broaden the scope from beyond just Inside Out to film in general. I have often found myself drawn to the connections that can be drawn between film and literature (hence my double major in film and English). For me, one of the more compelling similarities is the act of preservation that can occur in both mediums. In the written word, I think about how authors can immortalize themselves (and others) on the page. Something similar can happen in film, although, I would argue, to much greater effect.
Through the filmic medium, entire time periods can be visually immortalized. By watching a film from the 1950s for example, we can see how people dressed and acted in accordance with the times. In this way, a certain zeitgeist is forever encapsulated within the frame. This, of course, can be debated and I’m not sure that it holds water all the time (what about times before film was invented? Can period pieces made in the 2000s claim the same authority? Not sure I know the answers to these questions, but something I’m thinking about).
The best films are the ones which can capture the spirit of the time in which it was made but also apply it to other, future times as well. This is why I agree with Jeremy that a film like Inside Out is timeless. It captures the life of a pre-teen in 2015 so well. But I would bet that in 15 or 20 years, it will feel like it captured the life of a pre-teen in 2030. For this reason, I would definitely agree that the film feels absolutely timeless.
As Jeremy mentions, it is also timely. When I first read that, I immediately thought about the conversations around masculinity in today’s society. It is clear that there are rigid gender roles, expectations, and stereotypes that are placed on; men are told to bring Anger to the forefront, hide Sadness away, take Disgust and turn it into indifference (capitalization purposeful). To me, Inside Out feels like an important film in this respect. It’s main message – that sadness is an incredibly important part of moving through this world – feels like something that I wished all boys could know.
There’s no denying that sadness is a part of all of our lives. But, as we see in Inside Out, it becomes a problem when it is hidden and pushed away. If only everyone could embrace the same realization that Joy comes to at the end of the film: not only do we need sadness, we also need to express it sometimes.
I’m not sure if this was all as coherent as I hoped it would be, but the bottom line is that I agree with Jeremy that Inside Out is both timely and timeless and that makes it an incredibly important film.
Jeremy’s Take on Tucker’s #6: Spirited Away
In his take on Spirited Away, Tucker wisely points out all of the similarities between his choice for his 9th best, Nausicaa: The Valley of the Wind, and his 6th choice, Spirited Away. Although these two films occur at almost opposite ends of Miyazaki’s long, storied career, they share so many elements such as a mystical world, a lack of villainy, and a love of the environment. Miyazaki has a style that is all his own. Given just a few frames of almost any of his movies, perhaps except my 9th selection, The Wind Rises, and you immediately know you’re in a Miyazaki film.
One of the elements of his style that Tucker connects is the protagonists of Nausicaa and Spirited Away. At first glance, Nausicaa and Chihiro have little in common. Nausicaa is almost an adult, hanging on to the rebellious nature of her teenage years. She is a trained pilot and scientist, who is a Princess of a floating kingdom and therefore commands a level of respect despite her unorthodox ideas. Chihiro on the other hand is a nervous girl, traveling to a new home when her parents stumble upon an old structure and decide to stop and explore. She tries to convince them not to and when her parents indulge in the spirit food, they are transformed into pigs. She is left alone to wander through the spirit realm, eventually making her way to Yubaba’s spirit bathhouse where she gains employment, but loses her name.
As a result, they seem like complete opposites; however, they actually possess many of the same attributes that allow them to become the hero of their story: curiosity, kindness, a commitment to non-violence, and a sense of loyalty. Nausicaa demonstrates each of these attributes as she tries to find a way for humanity to live in peace with the insect-like Ohms who rule the toxic forest. Chihiro, who after losing her name is called Sen, slowly begins to show these qualities. After initially being afraid and unsure of herself, she gains courage after getting Yubaba to give her a job in the bath house. Her curiosity leads her to explore the bathhouse and to welcome strangers. When No-Face first appears, Sen sees him standing in the rain and invites him inside. Unsure of himself and her invitation, he hesitates at first, but Sen’s kindness and curiosity brings him inside. Similarly, when what is believed to be a junk spirit arrives, Sen is summoned to give him a cleaning. She is the only one willing to do so. Rather than treat this grotesque spirit as an enemy, she finds empathy and eventually removes a piece of junk that was injuring the spirit, allowing it to cleanse itself and reveal that it is the spirit of a river. In Shintoism, an ancient Japanese belief, water has the supernatural power to cleanse and must be respected above all. Sen’s respect for the spirit demonstrates her own spirit. It is no wonder that she eventually comes to learn the truth about Haku, the young boy spirit who can transform into a dragon.
The reason I wanted to focus on these qualities and characteristics that link Nausicaa and Chihiro is that they point to one of Miyazaki’s most important contributions to Japanese culture. Japan, like many Asian cultures, has a patriarchal tradition. There is still the custom among the older generations that women walk behind men to symbolize their social status. Miyazaki seeks to undo that tradition or at the very least draw questions onto it. In almost all of his films, The Wind Rises is again an exception, Miyazaki purposefully employs a young female protagonist. Rather than portray his female protagonists as helpless damsels in need of being saved, he portrays them as courageous. He doesn’t just seek to make these heroines gender neutral or, even worse, vessels for masculinity. On the contrary, Miyazaki imbues each of his female protagonists with the gender stereotypical female attributes of empathy and non-violence. These young girls / women are indeed young girls / women whose natural skills provide a solution in his stories in direct rejection of the more masculine quality of resorting to violence to solve problems. His heroines embrace who they are instead of seeking to become something they are not. This is one reason that in Spirited Away Sen’s mission to free herself from the job in the bath house is to remember her name. She must know who she is. She begins unsure of herself, but she ends the story knowing a sense of herself and her own power.
Tucker’s #6: Spirited Away
The next Hayao Miyazaki film to appear on my list, Spirited Away includes many of the same components that I loved so much about Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind; it has the impeccably built world, the beautiful animation, and the strong female lead that made Nausicaa so wonderful. But what Spirited Away does so well is that it packs so many different themes into a narratively rich film.
For one, the film functions as a coming of age story for the young protagonist Chihiro. From the very beginning, we see her straddling the line between childhood and something else. I’m deliberately not saying “adulthood” because I think that writing about Chihiro’s growth out of childhood into adulthood is too binary. Rather, at the end of the film, she finds herself in a similar liminal space to the one that she has been in for the majority of the film. She is no longer a child, but she is not quite an adult; she has learned throughout the film, but it is clear that she has more growth ahead of her, as we see her getting into the car at the end of the movie.
This liminal space is perfectly realized through the spirit world. There is a literal boundary that Chihiro must cross (the river), which marks her departure from the world that she knew. Even within the spirit world, Chihiro exists in a state of flux. As she navigates her new world, she is always thinking about the world she left behind, suggesting the lack of consistency. It’s beautiful to watch Chihiro grow from the small girl crying for her mom and dad who have just been turned into pigs (which, to be fair, would be traumatic) into one who cleans a “stink spirit” all by herself.
This theme feels so complete and well explored, without being too overt. It’s a Miyazaki staple: creating a film with so many different aspects and things to talk about. It’s also so fascinating to watch the “world within a world” that exists in the film. There’s the beautiful and strange (and strangely beautiful) spirit realm that is full of twists and turns. But there’s also the space of the bathhouse itself, which feels like an entirely different world of itself. Within this space Chihiro (or Sen, as she is renamed by Yubaba, the witch who runs the bathhouse) navigates the new challenges that face her. The bathhouse is a space that is overrun by capitalism and greed: Yubaba takes away Chihiro’s name as part of a work contract, No-Face eats everything in sight, Chihiro’s parents turn into pigs. This is a world that is run by people who live in high places (Yubaba lives at the top of the bathhouse) and are incredibly greedy.
This isn’t the subtlest but it also gets you wondering, “How different is the spirit world from the real world?” I know that this real-world connection is one that I brought up in my review of Nausicaa, but I think it’s something that Miyazaki is able to conjure so well. Few filmmakers can create a place that is so magical and fantastical but also one that is so rooted in reality. It’s impressive and one of the things that I love about Miyazaki’s films.
Spirited Away is a movie that I find myself constantly drawn back to. It’s difficult to explain why I love it so much; maybe it’s the fantasy and magic of the world, maybe it’s the humor and emotion that is peppered in throughout. Regardless, I truly love Spirited Away and continue to be delighted every time I watch it.
Jeremy’s #6: Inside Out
Yes, I am the first out of us to do it. Here is the first repeat of a movie on our top ten lists. It was bound to happen.
All of the movies on both Tucker and my list are timeless. In order to be considered for a list such as this, the films we’ve selected have withstood the test of time, drawing on at least two generations of filmgoers (Tucker being the generation below me), demonstrating their broad appeal. These films succeed by not merely being topical, even in their humor like Shrek (if you haven’t seen Shrek recently, trust me to say it has not aged well). Spider-man: Into the Spider-verse and Anomalisa are probably too recent to be considered timeless as there hasn’t been enough time since their release to objectively analyze them. If I had to guess, I would say they both will past that test. But those two films are the exception.
Of all the movies on my list so far, Inside Out is not only timeless because it captures the essence of the importance of an imaginary friend or because it captures how the human brain works so well that a PhD in psychology said it should be required for all psych classes, Inside Out is also importantly a work of our time. It would not be as poignant if made ten years before. It deals with a phenomenon that is rocking the youth of America. After teaching adolescents for twelve years, it is something that I have come to believe is a core problem of our time: the belief that sadness is an emotion to avoid at all costs.
The theory of parenting changed in 1990s. In prior generations, there was a belief that only the exceptional should be praised. It was believed that competition would breed stronger individuals. Sure, there is some truth to that, but it also can be unhealthy and destructive. It can breed a belief that winning is more important than sportsmanship. But, rather than moderate, the pendulum swung the other direction to create participation trophies so that everyone could get an award. It was a beginning, the start of the belief that failure and the sadness that comes with it was inherently bad.
Fast-forward to today, where social media now dominates the social landscape. Adolescents now create a social media persona. One where they put forward a face, a false narrative of their lives. We try to create a version of our life that make us seem happy; that makes our lives seem good, or at least less mundane. We put up pictures of friends and activities that we love. We share funny videos and post about great food we are eating. And yet, it is hollow. The feeling of loneliness, of depression, of sadness becomes pervasive, but rather than experiencing it, it is shoved aside. People try to ignore it, which only makes it worse. When you look at everyone else’s profile for how great their lives are going, you feel horrible. Even though somewhere you must know that they are posting and creating a persona just like you, it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like you are the only person who is sad.
Our society has become a fixer society. We focus on trying to solve all problems. When someone is sad, there is something wrong. We must make them happy. In reality, sadness is often a state where you simply need company. You simply need someone to sit with you. Not to try to fix it, but to be there with you while you experience it.
The genius of Inside Out is to make Sadness the main character along with her fellow protagonist Joy. Each emotion is so well characterized in this film. Anger, perfectly voiced by Lewis Black, is short, pushing others around at times, but willing to blow his top. Disgust is standoffish, but still needed. Fear needs other to not be afraid. Joy is the leader who always wants to put her emotion over everyone else’s. WE SHOULD ALL BE HAPPY NO MATTER WHAT! Therefore, she is the most flashy. The prettiest. The one that glows. Then, there is Sadness. Sadness sits by herself. She wears glasses. She wears a sweater even though no one else needs anything to stay warm. She always seems cold. Worse of all to Joy, she is dangerous. If Sadness ever created a core memory, Joy believes that it would ruin Riley’s life.
Riley is the young girl whose mind these emotions live in. In one of the great sequences of the film, we see the minds of her parents at the dinner table as the three of them try to navigate the reality of the situation. They are not doing as well as they seem to be. At least the mother knows something is wrong for Riley. Hearing all of these voices, no wonder people have a hard time navigating our lives. We are always pulled in different directions by our emotions and we are unable to read the minds of the people around us, who are struggling with their own emotions. Riley is in distress. She has been uprooted from her home and forced to move across the country. She attends a new school and has a horrible first day. She is alone. She is away from friends. Yes, she has loving caring parents and a home, but her life as she knew it is gone. She is grieving, but she feels guilty for showing those emotions to her parents who she knows are trying… but she is suffering alone.
In this state, Joy is overly concerned about what will happen to her. When Sadness touches a core memory and it changes color, Joy tries to stop it and eventually accidentally gets locked outside the command center with Sadness. Joy’s journey mirrors Riley’s. As she tries to pretend that everything is okay, she begins to lose it. Both Joy and Riley must come to understand the importance of Sadness. Sadness seems to hate herself as well. To believe that she is bad merely because of who she is. Yet, she is the only hope Riley has. Riley needs to express her grief, or it will consume her. The ending of this film is one of the most hopeful I could ever imagine. I have cried only in a handful of movies. This is one of them.
Peter Docter’s Inside Out may be timeless, but it also may be the most important movie I’ve seen in a decade for teenagers in our time.
