-Written by John Cajio.
A gentle sweep of the piano. It sounds like a harmonious major chord with… something… added to it—maybe the second in the key?—to add just a touch of dissonant color. An immediate sense of wonder and mystery. Another chord, similar yet different, is swept by the capable hands of the pianist. And another. A steady, soft electronic pad emerges out of the fading depths of the previous piano chord, and the feeling of wonder and mystery intensifies. Then, a single lonely tone on the piano, like the pianist is hesitant to play all the while knowing that he must. The tone repeats quickly but also unhurriedly, each one more insistent than the last before it abruptly drops then rises in pitch to create a simple, plaintive melody, one that makes us simultaneously yearn and ache for something we’ve always had and yet have never had.
The pianist reaches the end of the first phrase and, like magic, orchestral strings enter gently yet insistently. The piano melody repeats, but it’s more confident now that it has the support of the strings section. Inspired by its newfound confidence, the piano melody moves in a different direction—a gentle pop style full of chords that’s soft and bold without any arrogance. It’s full of nostalgia for something we didn’t know we once had. Then a single line emerges from the piano once again as we smile ruefully for the thing we didn’t know we had that once brought great pleasure.
Then there’s a sforzando—an abrupt explosion of sound followed by an immediate drop off—as the rest of the orchestra takes over. The bassoons and oboes hesitantly enter with a fragment of the main melody. A steady underlying pulse from the low strings and tuba gives confidence to the other instruments as they start to repeat the melodic fragment. First, one instrument or that group. Then, another group of instruments. Then, another altogether different group. Descending triplets in the strings and woodwinds accelerate the affair until a roll in the timpani and a crash of the piatti brings it simultaneously to a crashing halt and to full steam ahead. The melody, once full of nostalgia, is now bold and adventurous as it takes rough turns being bounced quickly from the playful flutes and xylophone to the heroic horns, then to the heralding trumpets, and then the trombones start blasting away. After their turn, things turn even more chaotic until eventually a sustained chord and a big timpani roll create suspense. Then the roll releases and the chord gives way once more to a sense of sustained wonder, mystery, and nostalgia before pushing to a final release entirely. The music ends.
This is the way the composer Joe Hisaishi chose to open Spirited Away musically. Not only does it accompany the images we see in these three or so minutes of music in an unexpectedly fitting manner, it lends itself perfectly to the film’s young heroine, Chihiro (Rumi Hiiragi/Daveigh Chase), and neatly captures the scope of her character arc.
Chihiro must unexpectedly navigate the dangerous world of spirits and we constantly find ourselves rooting for her as she shyly, but without hesitation, sets out on an unexpected adventure in a capitalistic bathhouse for spirits in order to rescue her parents. She receives aid from both expected and unexpected corners of the bathhouse and beyond because she is determined, hardworking, and earnest. It’s totally believable when Lin (Yoomi Tamai/Susan Egan) stops calling Chihiro a dope and begins to respect the young girl. We feel with Chihiro when Haku (Miyu Irino/Jason Marsden), the first to offer her aid in this unexpected and alluring world, is gravely injured. Perhaps above all, it’s somehow totally believable when Chihiro manages to win over everyone working at the bathhouse, who repeatedly demonstrate that they are selfish, conniving, manipulative, and greedy. You just constantly root for her and desperately want her to succeed, and you celebrate every victory as she finds unique, creative, and often unexpected ways to overcome the obstacles in her path. It’s a testament to truly great writing and storytelling.
The art direction is unparalleled in Spirited Away. The spirits are gorgeously drawn and animated. Their designs are wholly unique, often strange, and always just a little creepy—a reminder that the spirit world is not meant for humans. The spirit bathhouse and its environs feels at once both incredibly modern and incredibly ancient.
The rules by which the spirit world operates are slowly revealed to the viewer over the course of the film’s 125-minute runtime. And as each one is revealed, they actually tend to leave the viewer with more questions than answers. Not because the questions were inadequately answered, but because it just reveals the ancient depths of the spirit world in this film.
Spirited Away is a film that definitely does not suck. We are seeing masters of their craft at the very height of their prowess in this film. It is worthy of your time, and more than once. Repeated views answer some of the lingering questions you might have had from your previous viewing, and present new ones. It’s a legendarily great film. Go see it.
Written & Directed by Hayao Miyazaki.
Starring Rumi Hiiragi/Daveigh Chase, Yoomi Tamai/Susan Egan, Miyu Irino/Jason Marsden, Mari Natsuki/Suzanne Pleshette, Bunta Sugawara/David Ogden Stiers, etc.
10/10 = DROP EVERYTHING AND WATCH IT NOW (IT DEFINITELY DOES NOT SUCK)
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