Children need their village - My Neighbor Totoro (Spoilers)

Hello whoever might be out there, 

I want to preface this by saying that I may use Neighbor and Neighbour interchangeably throughout this. I know officially it uses the American spelling but I am a firm advocate for British English remaining strong, which is a whole rant for another time (idea now added to my ever growing list.)

I finally watched My Neighbor Totoro. I am slowly working my way through the Studio Ghibli films, with each one seeming like a reward. I have now seen Kiki's Delivery Service, Ponyo, and My Neighbor Totoro; so the most well known ones. I always knew I would like Ghibli. Everything I had seen advertised about them interested me. Animation, storytelling, music - three things I simply adore, and adore even more when put all together.

I was having a bit of a treat day today, so I thought there would be no better way to end it than to watch My Neighbour Totoro, one I was told was cosy and heart-warming. I have been trying to watch more films so no better place to start.

The film was 86 minutes long. The plot was practically non-existent. And it is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. It didn't need a plot, and those are films I love. I was the kid whose favourite part of the film was always the very beginning and the very end, the parts where nothing really happened. Where everyone was happy and everything was simple. Those parts just make sense to me, and they made me love the characters I was seeing. I am a firm believer in the fact no plot can make up for bad characters. I'd rather have an awful plot with good characters and the "non-canon" tags on AO3 prove my point. Characters give people something to work with in a way a plot can not. And this is why Ghibli films are so perfect.

I'm recognising a pattern in Ghibli films; absent parent, bad weather, moving house, children coping with magical realism. And I am going to eat it up every time. On a surface level, My Neighbour Totoro is about a family of three moving to the countryside while their mother is in the hospital. But digging deeper you see a theme of anticipatory grief throughout. Symbolism of the inner-workings of an anxious child. A both physical and metaphorical desire to run away. 

There is no overly happy ending. The mother isn't miraculously cured. But the girls find a sense of fleeting peace. Their phantasmal friends serve as a coping mechanism for their troubles. Totoro only appears when it wishes, when it is needed. It recognises the strength in its presence. Like a controlled drug. It helps them to get through the lows so they can celebrate the highs, or even the mediums.

The soot sprites perfectly describe the anxiety around a new situation or place. They're lingering until they decide they want to go, on their own terms. They aren't harmful, but they lurk in the dark where you can't see them. You didn't know they were there to start, but now you'll keep looking for them until they're gone. You'll keep worrying. Until it goes away on its own and you settle.

The film also wonderfully illustrates the necessity of community. Help and care with no strings attached. An umbrella here, a phone call there, until the whole community is searching for a lost child. It really is loving your neighbour, which is why I think the title of the film is so relevant. Mei and Satsuki value the help Totoro and co provides to the point where they view it as one of their neighbours. The new community they have entered, and the help from Totoro is part of it.

We see this film through the children's perspective. Although not literally, every creative decision made is made with the children as the focus. Totoro actually features very little in a film titled about it, but the impact of Totoro is so significant to the children that it warrants it. In fact, almost everything the children do seems futile to a non-child audience, but by focusing in on their perspective, you can appreciate the film so much more. I am convinced anyone who rated this film lowly did so because they lack the childlike whimsy this film capitalises on.

Like all Ghibli films, it isn't just a content masterpiece, but an artful one too. The animation style is comforting and gorgeous, and the creative decisions made are nothing short of wonderful. It is a slow piece, and that is what makes it so amazing. Held frames on mundane actions highlights the simplicity but also childlike whimsy of this film, truly viewing the story from the children's perspective. And the music that accompanies this? Tearful but perfect. People make Ghibli piano compilations on YouTube for a reason, and rightly so. I have enjoyed several of them while writing this.

I think we all need this level of whimsy in our lives, just hopefully not in an anticipatory grief circumstance.

Yours faithfully, 

MD