Grave of the Fireflies (1988)

-Written by John Cajio. 

“September 21st, 1945. That was the night I died.” It’s a gripping opening line, and Grave of the Fireflies does not let you forget it for the remainder of its 89-minute runtime. The rest of the film is a haunting, moving, and powerful view into the lives of two children, Seita (Tsutomu Tatsumi/Adam Gibbs) and Setsuko (Ayana Shiraishi/Emily Neves) who are forced to survive on their own in the wake of the ongoing air raids in Japan during World War II. 

It is remarkable that in a world that has become so desperate, so callous, and so cruel in the wake of those firebombings that these two children maintain a sense of hope throughout the film, even if it is just the slimmest of slivers of it. Hope that their father (offscreen as an officer in the Japanese navy) will return to them. Hope that people will continue to show at least some kindness to them when the overall situation around them turns more desperate and cruel. Hope that things will return to normal and they can begin to rebuild their lives. None of these things happen when the credits roll. 

Writer-Director Isao Takahata creates a devastatingly powerful masterpiece of animation. He does not pull any punches in Grave of the Fireflies. Every scene is a gorgeously drawn display of the carnage wrought by humanity on itself. Sometimes it’s a sweeping wide shot showing the destruction of a city. Other times, it’s a scene of the physical, emotional, and mental cost that Seita and Setsuko are forced to continually pay for their literal existence in this harsh world. 

No scene is safe from Takahata’s relentless onslaught. Even the scene when Seika and Setsuko go to the beach to frolic, romp, and generally forget their worries isn’t safe. Takahata goes to great lengths even in this moment to remind us that pain and loss and callousness are constantly around us, that kindness is an act requiring tremendous strength of character, and that it’s easy to make unwise choices borne out of naive ignorance. The film rises to a gently violent crescendo at its inevitably tragic climax. And instead of giving us a proper denouement afterwards, the credits roll. That’s when we remember we actually got the ending at the very beginning, making it possible for Takahata to wring every ounce of emotion out of us at the film’s height.

I’ve used strong terms like “onslaught,” “carnage,” and “violent” so far to describe Takahata’s treatment of Akiyuki Nosaka’s 1967 semi-autobiographical short story, as if this film is akin to something like the ultra-violent Ninja Scroll, where those terms would be extremely appropriate. While the effect of Takahata’s film is tremendously strong and immensely powerful, there is a soft and gentle touch to it all. The colors are muted. Object and character outlines are usually drawn in brown instead of the traditional black. And there is this wonderfully pervasive sense of hope from the teenaged Seita and the all-too-young Setsuko. It is this soft and gentle presentation of such dark and heavy material that makes this film so elegantly powerful. One cannot help but feel sympathetic for Seita, Setsuko, and the other folks just trying to survive the aftereffects of war. 

The music by composer Michio Mamiya is a wonderful support pillar to Takahata’s masterpiece. In contrast to the film’s dark tone, the music frequently contains melodies of hope and peace. As a result, the conspicuous absence of music in many of the film’s darkest scenes amplifies their power. The music is at its best when Mamiya channels some of the great French Impressionist composers like Debussy and Ravel. The elegiac version of an otherwise hopeful melody is truly shattering. 

“September 21st, 1945. That was the night I died.” From that moment, Writer-Director Takahata takes your heart in his hands and slowly, continuously, gently, and inexorably squeezes it until the credits roll. Only then does he release his grip, leaving one feeling withered and lost for quite some time afterward. 

Written and Directed by Isao Takahata.

Starring: Tsutomu Tatsumi/Adam Gibbs, Ayana Shiraishi/Emily Neves, etc.

10/10 = DROP EVERYTHING AND WATCH IT NOW (DEFINITELY DOES NOT SUCK)