The Boy and the Heron

Tumultuous tragedy bellicose bombardment inhospitable hegemony disconsolate disaster, wartime waspish wincing saturnine dismal devastation laconic lockdown.

A spirited move out of harm's way felicitous fortunes august acculturation, incumbent sadness besought fatigue synchronized siesta voltaic vroom.

Resilient retinue gregarious gatherings sycamore sympathy symphonic stack, unhindered wanderings atavistic adventures non-sequitarzany clandestine quests. 

Distressing disappearance worrisome whittling Sombretown searching hearty solemnity, immersive quandary querulous kibble flexible physics asymmetric stone.

Intangible tinsel impalpable pulp amorphous dimension sibilant sorcery, spiritual succotash insouciant sushi transformative quadrant juxtaposition. 

Whambient wavelengths fantastic frequencies imaginative hyper-reactive illusion, bewildernestled oblique immaterial shapeshifting quagmiracult-de-saquesters.

Archaic sentiment serpentine simplicity quaker o'tantamount reanimation, consistent regroupings chrysalid coordinates oblong addresses arhythmic artistry. 

Aquadrilatticeworkinder'eggstatic palimperception existentorian, quintessenshisha hurrisugarcandolittle exubearingstraitjacket willowridesharangue. 

Sublimerickshawshankbernard encompassing subterranean nexus, dreamlichintegritty gruel mossemboss'kosh granknitty slimpickety bandanana. 

Subconscious sandmanic slumberton reverie quixoticambridge i'deal'emblematic, elephanatic rhinosirriustic wildebeesturnstyle crocodilettantics.

Vacancy velvet caroussel candleliturgy seasaunter Mirvishlistless incredulity, acceleration inquisitive maven curious exquisite tournyquil'bation.

Accented effervest hogtirade levity interlude schism cosmicrobull mist, courageous acoustics tumbledown tweedle discursive reunion familial galaxy. 

Saw a heron the day after I watched this.

In an uncharacteristic spot.

It didn't fly away either, like they usually do when you're up close.

Neat.

I've seen every Ghibli. 

Grave of the Fireflies

Soulful siblings emphatic play youthful deliberations innocent slumbers, confused comprehension sabbatical sedge tragic ubiquity wartime horrors.

Bedevilled bombardment continuous clawbacks inherent disaster allied alacrity, weary world warriors destitute dogma dissident delineation fascist fetters.

Lugubrious license paternal pandora receptive relatives unsought isolation, codes unfamiliar stilted routine acute misunderstanding strict dismissal. 

On their own lacking knowledge and networks improvised desperate sincere initiative, what more could kids be expected to do?, expedient acclimation enigmatic envelopment. 

Initial hopeful exotic ingenuity amicable innovation friendly festivities, bullfrog bullion firefly fortitude exceptional courage elusive symbiosis. 

Severe surroundings draconian doppelgäng stubborn psychosis obdurate angst, pervasive paucities widespread famine stoic starvation communal clashes.

Delirious dolomite contagious collocations unconscious impertinence illicit logic, ventriloquist vestige woebegone withering incredulous sacrilege misanthropic morosity.

A beautiful child anxiously awaits newfound necessities enriching food, her not-that-much-older brother passionately engaged in reasonable acquisitions stealthy sacrifice.

What war creates, the miserable endgame the impoverished hopeless collective terror, inconsolable cadence excessive despondency inexhaustible dolorous interminable distress.

Living off wallpaper dismal demarcations wholesale obfuscations stagnant rejuvenation, static progress apocalyptic nadir limitless abeyance inert productivity.

Undisciplined demagogues illustrious rogues hysterical sedition belligerent aggression, decadent dustbowls ritzy aggregate determinant detritus infertile soil.

Grave of the Fireflies presents life and beauty unfortunately mired in incomprehensible visions.

Painstakingly highlighting the miseries of war.

With nature and storytelling.

And blunt discretion. 

*Kids may be too young for this film's hard-hitting message (don't start wars). It's the saddest children's film I've ever seen.

Kaguya-hime no monogatari (The Tale of the Princess Kaguya)

A childless family holistically subsists within the fertile abundant countryside, utilizing enriching multifaceted bamboo to productively nourish and equip their household.

One bamboo shoot proves more elaborate than the other versatile exemplars within the forest, revealing a miniature person no less in need of love and warmth and shelter and guidance.

Her new parents are unsure of what to do but know she grows quickly and flourishes in nature, as she swiftly befriends the local children who generously teach her about plants and animals.

Other discoveries within the forest lead her father to believe she's destined for royalty, fine silk robes and a huge pile of gold lead him to seek stately honours sequentially.

They move away from the cherished country to the imposing capital where they've built a mansion, and hired a discerning professional nanny to strictly teach her the rules of etiquette. 

She responds with traditional transgressions and febrile fits of fervent fury, but eventually settles into her chosen role out of dutiful love for her mother and father.

Bold noblepeople from across the land soon come a'-calling in pursuit of marriage.

But she responds with impossibility.

To which they counter in roguish fashion.

The dependable roots of a heartwarming Ghibli magically take hold of one's heart within, and enchantingly propagate independent merrymaking with soul-searching skill and tender echoes.

The sought after attention to naturalistic detail and focus on animals of all shapes and sizes, can be wondrously found once again throughout what's come to be known as Kaguya-hime no monogatari (The Tale of the Princess Kaguya).

Crafts are also concentrated on as the Princess moves from station to station, animated accounts of diligent artists distinctively engaged in woodworking wonder. 

The eternal struggle between the carefree ways of a bucolic youth clashing with urban responsibility, permeates the bewildered action as the coveted Princess takes centre stage.

Would it have been better to introduce the Moon People at the beginning of the film instead of much later?, the lack of foreknowledge briefly generating confusion as the shocking revelations augment the end.

But the intricate detail, the copious love for thriving nature to be found within.

And the ways in which it appeals to the fortunate throughout life.

Seductively soothes.

Any critical sensation. 

Hôhokekyo tonari no Yamada-kun (My Neighbors the Yamadas)

Difficult to critique a Ghibli so let's try the following context:

It's possible that Hôhokekyo tonari no Yamada-kun (My Neighbors the Yamadas) was made for television, it does resemble many of the homely afterschool specials I watched in my youth, with an ordinary family doing ordinary things while at times engaging in bold acts of daydreaming.

It seems like it would meet with ecumenical approval amongst various churches across the land, even though it's irreligious culturally speaking, its awkward examination of a traditional family still likely to be lauded by worldwide censors.

Simultaneously, it generally concerns itself with hokey materialistic conundrums (obvious issues that arise between people trying to co-habitate), meaning that it also would have likely met with the applause of the Politburo. 

The film is kind of like sitting through church and singing along with the canonized hymns, which don't motivate like jazz or pop yet still make you feel constructive and communal nevertheless.

If looking for a film hoping to keep couples together, Hôhokekyo tonari no Yamada-kun functions like a televisual minister, and uses age old quotidian examples to exoterically dissuade any thoughts of divorce.

Grandma's kind of funny at times, as she routinely airs her grievances, like the feisty grandmother from The Garfield Christmas Special, proud and determined to defend her utterances.

The animation is different from the other Ghiblis I've seen and is oddly much more like Beavis & Butt-head. It must have been a popular style at that time. I was a bit surprised to see something similar in a Ghibli.

It's strange how the films to be approved of by totalitarian theocracies or communist states, are both so incredibly unappealing if you don't find yourself forced to applaud them. 

You would think that in 100 years the Soviets would have produced more than one Elem Klimov, something to look into I suppose, religious traditions not faring much better (there's also Tarkovsky).

Nonetheless, if you find yourself living under such a regime and you want to produce something that won't get you shot, you could use Hôhokekyo tonari no Yamada-kun as a working example, as you curse your historical epoch.

Can't public well-being and the postmodern consciousness not spiritually blend through environmental metamorphosis?

Isn't that what's happening this Summer!

With so many Northern Lights.

It's a natural trend!

Avatar: The Way of Water

When Avatar: The Way of Water began I was initially confused.

It looked like it was going to focus primarily on revenge and reconstruct the devastating antagonisms that dominated the first film.

Of course these films are cinematic endeavours not nature documentaries, and I have to remind myself to concentrate on the difference at times to avoid sounding even more antiquated.

I was hoping the second film would expand the world presented in the original nevertheless (I didn't know anything about this film going in), and provide more insights into Pandora itself, and I was happy to see that that's what happened, as Jake (Sam Worthington) and Neytiri (Zoe Saldaña) and their family go into hiding.

They hide amongst people of the water or a tribe as knowledgeable of the sea as they are of the forest (the Metkayina), just writing that reminds me of how cool these films are, and how amazing it is that blockbusters are genuinely championing nature (I swear there's a dialogue here between Avatar and Ghibli, Kaze no tani no Naushika (Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind) anyways[wish I could write that essay]).

The water people are super intense and highly critical and dismissive of those who don't know their ways, the gauntlet immediate and challenging and demanding as the new recruits adjust to their newfound codes.

The Way of Water may not be a nature documentary but it does excel as it examines tulkan and human relations, the tulkan closely resembling whales back home, I couldn't make it to Tadoussac again this summer, this film went a long ways to compensate. 

It primarily concerns a rogue tulkan who made the forbidden decision to fight back against his hunters, his kind absolutely devoted to peace and unconditionally opposed to taking a life.

Extreme hardship drove him to fight back however and members of his pod were killed in the battle, he survived but was banished forthwith for having fought back against his oppressors. 

He forms a tight bond with Jake and Neytiri's son Lo'ak (Britain Dalton) who also has trouble following rules, and who brings his case to the Metkayina who are none too fond of the outcast.

Later in the film, it's like the coolest moment ever presented in blockbuster cinema, Payakan (the outcast tulkan) joins the concluding battle between the inhabitants of Pandora and the colonizers, and makes a definitive impact.

It isn't over in 30 seconds either, it keeps going and going and going. Scene after scene of nature fighting back. So much thought, time, and care sincerely went into it.

I tell people that the best possible world would be one where there is no war and violence (what people were fighting for for most of my life before Trump), where our social structures are so cohesive that someone like Putin would never arise.

But Hitler's rise in the 1930s makes me worry about such possibilities, i.e, if someone like that does arise and no country has an army to fight them, they could effectively blitzkrieg most of Europe, and leave civilization in bitter ruins.

Thus, I advocate for the creation of potent defensive armies and their continual existence in case of such a development, Putin having proven their unfortunate need, to be kept out of the hands of bloodthirsty tyrants.

Democracy prevailed for many a decade and kept the despotic autocrats at bay.

The rise of the internet has seen them prosper again nonetheless.

These are difficult times.

I suppose that without a defensive army you could wager assimilation might eventually win back your country, like the Chinese used to do with the Mongols (Sinicization), although it takes a lot of frustration and generations to possibly work, and, imagine having to listen to those people for generations (not the Chinese, the fascist colonizers).

Geez Louise, this became far too heavy, note that I really loved Avatar: The Way of Water.

It's a really cool universe and I'm glad it's popular.

Can't wait for my next whale watching excursion. 

*It would be cool to see an Avatar film that was focused primarily on the different interrelations between the inhabitants of Pandora, like an Olympics or something, with less of a focus on colonization. 😎

Omohide poro poro (Only Yesterday)

Childhood memories of elementary school mischievously haunt Taeko's adult life, even if she's rather well adjusted to the industrious working world.

Notably daunting math tests which caused sincere social and familial distress, many others rather patronizing in their evaluations of her natural difficulties by the numbers.

Young romance confused and startled as an innocent lad accidentally declared his affections, and her classmates erupted with furor and the two really had no idea what to do.

Now she's in her late twenties and the marriage police are moving in, friends and family wondering why she's still single in a city full of millions of people.

Her characteristic independence habitually dismisses their domestic appeals, and she continues to earnestly authenticate by harmoniously proceeding with novel planning.

Which includes working trips to the country where she helps out on versatile farms, taking part in the daily labour while enjoying village life at night.

Soon an amorous lad shyly falls for her big city ways.

Others noting they get along well.

Taeko taking to the ways of the country. 

Omohide poro poro (Only Yesterday) presents alternatives to urban trajectories, as bucolic pride historically enraptures through inquisitive endeavour and cross-cultural daring.

Few films provide such an affectionate road map to countryside life through animate accords, complete with clear explanations regarding age old farming practices and the steady cultivation of the surrounding landscape.

Farming is often overlooked in the hyper-reactive accelerated narrative, but it always will be evidently necessary as long as we require tasty nourishing food.

You wonder why it isn't more respectfully regarded when multivariably compared with other professions, farming actually provides something durable when presented alongside abstract calculations. 

It's a shame how such abstractions at times drive a wedge between practical people, why is it preferable to have no relation to nature and pretend we can exist immaterially zoned?

A healthy environment ensures the multigenerational matriculation of posterity through fecund diversity, the more polluted the environment becomes the less likely crops will attentively flourish.

Perhaps it will never come to that although the dismissive outcome seems highly unlikely.

Working vacations can be fun in countryside regardless, may be worth checking out sometime. 

Gedo senki (Tales from Earthsea)

It's fun to throw around terms like immortality or magic at times, to take part in mythological shenanigans as reputedly envisaged in fermenting fashion.

But if reality needs be materialistically applied, I've never been interested in living forever, it seems like it would be incredibly dull in fact, and if you kept growing older, an encumbering plight. 

Vampires apparently don't age but who would want to live forever without the sun?, that would be an extremely unfortunate predicament certainly not to be genuinely envied.

I do believe in life after death perhaps sustained through the potent dreamworld, your dreams persisting perhaps like purgatory until you reach some form of nirvana. 

The belief in life after death does solve several concrete problems, and leaves you less burdened by temporal considerations throughout the rapid progression of time.

Make sure you're not too much of a prick and worries of damnation fade as well, the congenial afterlife even animal heaven I imagine sustained by decent people across the land.

I don't think repenting on your death bed or absolution late in life prevents the onset of hell for the truly wicked.

They're punished ruthlessly post-mortality.

Somewhat like Jacob Marley.

But I don't think the punishment is indefinite the chance to rise again indeed enlightening, I've always intuitively believed in reincarnation (as I've mentioned before) for which I was reprimanded at a young age.

Perhaps there is nothing else perhaps just the dirt and ashes follow, after a fertile robust life inquisitively lived through cultural sleuthing.

I find it much less depressing and much more constructive to think otherwise however, there really is no way to determine the answer, and a future filled with multiple lives and multiverses leads to more pleasant thoughts throughout mortal life.

I don't mean for such thoughts to influence government spending or tax-based initiatives, practical reality indeed paramount when trying to spend hard-earned vital incomes.

With competing ideologies in the democratic realm unfortunately the phrase practical realities becomes more abstract, but it's still less corrupt than a one-party system and at least you can still critique and disagree.

Imagine immortality during an ice age, who knows, perhaps that's how we survived!

Like many others, I believe death's a natural part of life.

Not that it means I want to stop living.

Cool film. 

Kokuriko-zaka kara (From Up on Poppy Hill)

The intense painful longing for an adored absent loved one, objectively expressed through ritualistic candour, every morning by the vibrant sea the message sent unseen unanswered, a family waiting observant on shore, yet still caught up in the world around them.

Umi's mother is off to study in the unfamiliar metropoli of North America, leaving her alone to manage their business, a task she accomplishes with inherent skill.

Meanwhile, Shun grows increasingly frustrated as it becomes apparent his clubhouse will be shut down, many of the other studious individuals in agreement, yet at a loss as to how to proceed.

As fate would have it, he's noticed Umi's signals and written a poem about them in his newsletter, which she notices one startling morning, before venturing forth to discover its author.

The two strike up a friendship although working relationship may be more apt, male and female soon gathered together to renovate the clubhouse for the first time in years.

But there may be even more to it after they learn they both have copies . . .

. . . of the same mysterious photo!

Taken of their fathers ages ago.

Toil and hard work and prudent planning industriously drives Kokuriko-zaka kara (From Up on Poppy Hill), which diligently enlivens through microcosm to innovatively excel and creatively encapsulate.

Japan having struggled in recent times through disastrous wars for which they can't be forgiven, the youth who grew up in the aftermath nevertheless, provided with the choice to make amends.

They have their traditions and customs which they resolutely honour through resilient sacrifice, taking care of their responsibilities with adamant gusto, while persevering through hearty resolve.

But a brilliant survivor of the ruthless war who recognizes that it's time to change the old ways, presents a newfound contemporary alternative which follows a reconciliatory postmodern path.

Imagine a world where people really were chill and there was no need for consistent higher-up apologies, where sustained evolving international endeavours led to food to eat and employment for billions.

Why are goodwill and camaraderie so counterintuitively maligned?

Exacting standards.

Commensurate will.

So many variables.  

Aces high.

Kaze no tani no Naushika (Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind)

My thoughts regarding the resilience of nature as pertaining to a post-pandemic environment, find rational contradiction within Ghibli's Kaze no tani no Naushika (Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind).

Within a toxic environment has pesitferously emerged after an apocalypse, most forests having become so polluted that they can no longer sustain human life.

Human life as we know it the forests and the giant insects who reside within them, have no tolerance for extant humanity, being fully aware that we destroyed the planet.

Thus, rather than habitual resiliency which sees the abundant return of cherished plants and animals, the forests still grow but have become infected with inherent anatomies hostile to humans.

Such a development corresponds to the theory that microplastics herald our doom, and will perhaps one day make food sources unsustainable as our population expands.

The literary irony within the minuscule components which once ruled the land with colossal magnitude, as fitting as the end of a Victorian novel as applied to the fossil fuel age.

You would think we would simply take steps to gradually transition away from fossil fuels, but that doesn't seem to be happening anywhere, this film was made in 1984.

You would think the consistent stewardship of a robust environment hospitable to our needs, would indeed be of the utmost importance considering the maintenance of posterity. 

It really isn't though, rather the chaotic clash of market based dogma rules the millennia, and should prudent planning screw up a sale fury will vociferously tantrum incarnate.

Such facts aren't lost on Kaze no tani no Naushika which sees the world still fighting suicidal wars, hellbent on annihilating our species 1,000 years later, ignoring science and ecologial rhythms. 

Nausicaä herself reveals the value of study and the just rewards of patient duty, as her innate wonder and curiosity find working solutions to age old problems.

Don't we have working solutions now to fossil fuel issues and environmental bedlam?

Isn't it best to employ them through a gradual transition?

Like sustainable economics.

Just a little less so. 

Omoide no Marnie (When Marnie was There)

Troubled times pejorative loneliness habitual cheeky maladjusted disproportion, leads to isolated age old initiatives far away from any urban centre.

The village disseminates flavour characteristically concocting historical narratives, multilaterally nuanced through subjective barter, contradiction generationally resounding.

The family with whom she stays offer peaceful counsel and generous goodwill, a robust hearty unassuming caricature oft employed to generate cohesion.

But she still has trouble socializing as many do at different times, her critical mistrust and acerbic evaluations leading to unamused accusations of severity.

Fortunately, patience abounds, and people are forgiving, sympathetic, and understanding, not to mention at times aloof which gives her ample time to wander.

While exploring far afield in search of nothing in particular in turn, she accidentally encounters a curious youth hoping to make friends with stories to tell.

The two strike up a mutually accommodating freewheelin' compassionate empathetic union, which leads to what's oft referred to as friendship as tides ebb and munificently flow.

But just who is this mysterious girl who disappears as quickly as she energetically arrives?

Is there a syndicating secret synergizing soulful sentiment?

In time honoured traditional supernatural soroarity?

If you happen to have an independent daughter prone to legend and zealous storytelling, who at times confuses the other children and has difficulties understanding why?, Omoide no Marnie (When Marnie was There) may prove materially providential in regards to constructive sociocultural life, a film like none other concerning bonds forged between like-hearted spirits adventurously aligned one fateful summer.

Difficult to fight off the haunting doubts inconsiderately disrupting calm and tranquil trajectories, while consistently engaged with inhospitable alliances generally unconcerned with practical well-being.

It's odd how frequently you hear collegial messages expressing warmth and kindness, and how sporadically they apply while directly engaged with unfavourable distress.

The love of family hopefully can challenge the cynical uptight grim brinkspersonship.

Along with friends books music and film.

Neverending possibilities at the local library.

📚♮📽😎

Neko no ongaeshi (The Cat Returns)

Simple acts of genuine kindness at times cultivate appreciation and respect, the unsuspecting recipients flush with reciprocity should time's passage munificently flow.

Thus, in Neko no ongaeshi (The Cat Returns), the Kingdom of Cats regards Haru with admiration, for having generously gone out of her way while altruistically assuming death-defying risks.

She's rather mild-mannered yet inquisitive and enjoys sleeping in with no time for breakfast, teachers critical of her habitual tardiness yet still sympathetic to the studious cause.

Having naturally developed an intuitive love for animals she notices one legendary day, that a cat may be run over by a fearsome passing truck, which encourages genuine distress.

She quickly scoots into traffic and boldly saves the unobservant feline, who, as fate would have ceremoniously have it, happens to be the Prince of Cats.

Cat kind responds in turn with abundant gifts freely delivered, and even if Haru doesn't know what to do with the mice, she's still taken aback from all the attention.

But soon she's taken away to the exotic otherworldly mythological chillaxed cat kingdom.

Where she's betrothed to the very same Prince.

As she starts to transform into a cat!

Imagine a less self-obsessed world where sincere kindness and warmth played a role, and people looked out for one another like the Québecois while structuring their cultural and communal relations.

I don't hear it mentioned often anymore but the Pay it Forward movement was a very cool thing, I don't know what it transformed into but hopefully the thought behind it's the same. 

The movement as I recall sought to reward acts of kindness, self-sacrificingly shared between conscious individuals, conscientiously aware of the tender exchange.

If someone was kind enough to do someone a favour or help someone out without having been called upon, then the person who received the aid would then help someone else in the near future, or Pay it Forward.

Marrying the King of Cat's son and transforming into a cat may have taken things too far, but had there been a courtship ritual involved, perhaps the results would have been somewhat different.

An appealing idea nonetheless which effortlessly radiates cohesive collegiality. 

It exists in so many forms.

Constructively mutating across the land.  

Tenkû no shiro Rapyuta (Castle in the Sky)

A largely unknown mythical heritage gracefully envelopes young aloof Sheeta, who would rather just be left alone than frenetically chased by an irate military.

Pazu has found work and community when he suddenly finds her one fortuitous day, and helps her feverishly escape when her former captors defiantly threaten.

Pirates also emerge in search of legendary boundless treasure, to which they believe Sheeta holds the key unlocking mad abundant riches.

They search for an ancient legend solemnly floating in the sky, where once a race of international influencers secretly advanced global sociocultural reckoning.

They also hypothetically accumulated mass resourceful mineral commodities, how to infiltrate and escape with such embroidered booty remaining a compelling infinite challenge.

The military naturally thinks the fortress could be used as an invincible weapon, and seeks to somehow control it with no prior knowledge of the structure whatsoever. 

A descendent of the race who once dwelt there seeks the same thing but possesses access codes, and could theoretically wield its power should he acquire Sheeta's magic talisman.

She's much more modern however and adamantly agrees with her mystical forebears.

Isn't it more exciting to live on the surface?

Away from lofty sequestered disparities.

I imagine it's fun to live everywhere perhaps even under the ocean in a secret sea fortress, which could furtively move undetected alongside pods of whales and ebullient dolphins (wrote this before I saw Ponyo). 

The tale still presents a classic narrative style congenially bent on less stratified collectives, wherein which mutual prosperity guides communal initiatives with fluent understanding.

I'm surprised a live action version of this story has yet to be made, it's the best fantasy film I've seen in years and has so many thrilling adventurous elements. 

The magical ties to ancient ways still potentially producing postmodern peculiarities. 

Is this just something people have always assumed?

Still fun to have (harmless) origin myths at times. 

Gake no ue no Ponyo (Ponyo)

An eccentric caretaker vigilantly monitors and looks after oceanic depths, consistently attempting to facilitate harmony beneath the temperamental seas.

He's rather tightly attuned to rhythmic supernatural submersion, and even cares for aquatic wonders too young to freely roam. 

But his most spirited daughter suddenly escapes one propitious morn, and eventually finds herself on land in the adoring company of a human.

The child is on his way to school when he accidentally cuts himself, his wound soon licked by the curious goldfish and instantly healed through nascent magic.

She's named "Ponyo" by little Sôsuke who becomes deeply enamoured with his friend, but her father remains distraught and soon reacquires her through immortal counsel. 

We learn that he is collecting unique transformative elixirs, which he hopes to use to change the world one epoch transfigurative day. 

But little Ponyo makes an escape during which she chaotically disrupts his plans.

The ocean erupting in imaginative fury.

Ponyo finding Sôsuke once more. 

Imagine the ocean 10,000 years ago, abounding with the practically uninterrupted fecundity of thousands upon thousands of transformative millennia!

Whales everywhere to be seen coral reefs extending far past fathomable limits, manatees and dugongs flourishing unabashed, crab and lobster expertly radiating. 

No wonder legendary tales consistently emerged with divine hyperbole, as a lack of knowledge inspired courageous deeds and habitual curiosity envisaged remonstration.

Ghibli suggests that even with our technology and the ways we've adapted to oceanic resilience, we've lost something by moving beyond legend into a much more practical repartee.

Too much of an emphasis on fact can tether daring adventurous spirits, to wayward predictable trajectories lacking variability and versatile imagination (we clearly still need to clean the oceans up). 

Not that a practical focus isn't particularly requisite in traditional commerce.

It's just at times it doesn't make recreational sense.

And for thousands of years there was nothing to do.

*Figures not precise estimates.

**That's the first time I've ballparked civilization's history.

Heisei tanuki gassen ponpoko (Pom Poko)

Further information regarding the ways of raccoon kind is generously provided in Ghibli's Heisei tanuki gassen ponpoko (Pom Poko), which examines the complex nature of intricate underscored raccoon relations.

Sometimes I achieve success when attempting to photograph laidback turtles, for at times they remain somewhat docile and let you shutterbug away.

But at others testosterone abounds and there's no diplomatic impetus, harmonizing interspecial congeniality, them turtles right freakin' pissed!

Having seen such behaviour in different animals I was led to theorize that animal kind, including robust philosophizing humans, has reps no species quite knows how to deal with.

For instance, in Heisei tanuki gassen ponpoko one bellicose raccoon takes on risks which may lead to a cull, his leadership rivals employing other means to stop the development within their homeland.

Said rivals take a more artful approach and utilize superstition as opposed to violence, with remarkably mythological results eventually dismissed as carefree play.

I didn't know that raccoons were renowned indeed vigorous legendary transformers, and if threatened could materially shapeshift regardless of weight equivalencies. 

In an age when the old ways have been forgotten many repudiate appeals to folklore, which references age old artists who once thoroughly concentrated on raccoon kind.

They discovered their transformative initiatives and swiftly celebrated them in poem and song, but fad and trend inevitably obscured their realistic spiritual reckonings.

The people who adhere to the past and even actively witness it at large at times, are subsequently and summarily lampooned for having overlooked contemporary biases.

The raccoons benefit from such developments but their belovéd home is still threatened by urbanization, grand mutating masters arriving from far off islands in a last ditch effort to preserve the wilderness.

It's plain as day that other peeps observe raccoons wide-eyed with wonder, as they go about their intuitive days rambunctiously securing food and shelter.

To those in the know there's indubitably indeed really nothing else quite like them, they remind me of people who want to focus but at the end of the day remain habitually distracted.

Perhaps they never will become domesticated like trusty dogs and impetuous cats.

But they're still close by monitoring the scene.

Sometimes envious, at others highly critical. 🦝

Mononoke-hime (Princess Mononoke)

A young prince must fight a demon who threatens the prosperity of his humble village (Yôji Matsuda as Ashitaka), his people forced to flee long ago after infuriating the emperor. 

He successfully slays the intruder but touches its infected tentacles too, a curse then emerging within his arm which the village elders cannot cure.

Not willing to sit back while it spreads he boldly departs in search of medicine, making his way to a rowdy village engaged in the act of making iron.

He's welcomed for having rescued some of its menfolk from irate wolves, the village leader (Yûko Tanaka as Eboshi-gozen) eagerly entertaining and letting him get to know her people.

But as it dishearteningly turns out, their ironworks is destroying the local wilderness, where a resident forest god has lived forever, in quiet peace and regal seclusion. 

The animals are loosely united and intent on fighting the destructive town, arguments erupting amongst them, at other times, cohesive calm.

A young maiden lives with the wolves and is just as fierce in her condemnation, known as Princess Mononoke (Yuriko Ishida), she denies fear and exhales resolve.

Prince Ashitaka soon finds he's in love with her as all hell emphatically breaks loose.

Eboshi-gozen wants the god's head to grant immortality. 

But is unsure if the legend's true. 

Princess Mononoke and Prince Ashitaka find comfort in their mutual adoring amicability, the ideal unification of masculine and feminine harmoniously embracing age old enlightened daring.

It's more difficult to figure out the role matronistically played by Eboshi-gozen within, for on the one hand she supplies freedom and community, on the other, environmental devastation.

Not only the naturalistic bedlam to be expected by efficient mining, but she also pursues the forest god itself, intent on despairing ancient resiliency. 

She frees many from vile servitude and supplies honest work for her surrounding cast, while promoting the development of Mordor, it's a difficult contradiction to balance.

Environmentally friendly mining practices at peace with resident animals, certainly would have been less burdensome, and providing a heightened degree of friendly interdependency.

Love still innocently flourishes beyond problems associated with industrialization.

A narrative like none other.

Forest mystics, spellbound exhilaration. 

*Note: Ghibli doesn't show up in spellcheck!

Kurenai no buta (Porco Rosso)

An aging pilot hiding away on a remote exotic island, with some wine, a tent, a plane, and a radio, the hours slowly pass by, until called upon yet again (Shûichirô Moriyama as Porco Rosso).

He's somewhat of a virtuoso and was feared during World War I, his daring exploits exceedingly agile mechanistic maestro intuitive ignition.

He works as a bounty hunter recovering loot obtained by pirates, who grow weary of his nimble meddling, and hire a challenger to face him (Akio Ôtsuka as Donald Curtis).

His plane stalls, he's suddenly shot down, after just having made his last payment, the government changing and promoting fascism, which doesn't jive with his democratic sympathies.

Fortunately, friends have been made, one who'll set about rebuilding his plane (Bunshi Katsura VI as Mr. Piccolo), his granddaughter's brilliance seeking distinguished prominence (Akemi Okamura as Fio Piccolo), if she can stop love from fouling things up.

She designs his new wondrous jet stream just before the secret police arrive, the two escaping to Porco's secret hideout, which the pirates have meanwhile discovered.

The challenger arrives and is jealous of how much a maiden thrice widowed loves freewheeling Porco (Tokiko Katô as Gina), and defies him to fight once again, enough money to cover his costs versus Fio's begrudged hand. 

L'amour's injudicious vicissitudes bewilder nimble Porco's individualism, the intensity swiftly increasing the more he denies them, the more he attempts to reconstitute anew.

Transformed into a pig who some quietly say can only have his curse lifted by heartfelt innocence, he worries intently about age and probability, still with no interest in settling.

Definitely the strangest Ghibli I've encountered (it's rather literal) yet still abounding in feminine strength, as it creatively contends with a bellicose world so often composed by combative men.

Versatile lyrics enlighten the madness yet inspire more danger as they're sought after, equanimous tandemed quaint domesticity reservedly tempting romantic plots.

A film certainly like none other this airborne Kurenai no buta (Porco Rosso) imaginatively glides.

What's love like if uncertainty abounds.

And you consistently take to the skies?

Kari-gurashi no Arietti (The Secret World of Arrietty)

Life proceeds as it always has within a naturalistic microcosm, a loving family nestled tucked away, eagerly searching for vivid adventure.

The adults exercise sincere caution when engaged in thrilling pursuits, age and impertinent patterns having cultivated guarded prudence.

But the world is new for their sprightly offspring who freely seek characteristic difference, and there's so much activity beyond the gates that they can't spend every day inside.

Potentially inhospitable giants reside alone unaware nevertheless, until one of their observant children happens to notice Arrietty (Mirai Shida).

Desires for friendship and nascent networking encourage them to get to know one another, but old school astute and fatalistic reckoning has classified their interactions strictly anathema.

Harrowingly so, for soon Shô's (Ryûnosuke Kamiki) caretaker is aware of the little people, and sets out with pernicious particularity as if their home's been invaded by pests.

Father (Will Arnett as Pod) is aware that they've been detected and has a plan to swiftly escape, but not before dire search and rescue is trepidatiously necessitated.

Unfortunately, the interrelations thus proceed upon austere lines. 

But aren't the affects so much more disconcerting?

When environments cast contemporaneous loci?

Or perhaps there's some harmonies at least resulting from a harmless family that's forced to move, more so than those which would have also resulted from the relocation of deer or wildebeests (thus the harmful impacts of having to relocate any person or animal are maximized)? 

Isn't it an honourable feature of global sociocultural relations, that those possessing enormous wealth use some of it to help care for their fellow citizens?

Perhaps by keeping the factory open while providing a decent wage, so people can squabble about abstract phenomena as opposed to requisite needs.

Heartfelt thanks in turn reciprocated at times for the sustainable way of life, notwithstanding essential arguments which inevitably develop through social interaction.

Perhaps it's just that episode of Heartbeat that I saw so many years ago that keeps such an innocent idea alive, but when it works don't you have more prosperous communities with less crime and more exciting pastimes?

A tragic loss as Arrietty's family is forced to abandon their heartfelt home, and find somewhere else to creatively envision august romance and practical tools.

Ghibli's coveted sense of honest wonder endearingly guides peaceful thoughts throughout.

Communal comfort cozy quarters. 

Interspecial import.

Incumbent fair play.  

Mimi wo sumaseba (Whisper of the Heart)

Inquisitive fascination drives a young student to actively read (Yoko Honna as Shizuku Tsukishima), her love of fiction borderline exhaustive as she eagerly embraces diverse narratives.

While vigorously engaged one day with the investigative art of literary exploration, she happens to notice upon the cards in her texts that someone else is reading the very same books!

Who could this mysterious kindred spirit be and do they have many things in common?, these questions worth at least an intermediary degree of alert practical heuristic sleuthing.

She finds herself on the métro curiously travelling to the library one afternoon, when she notices a grouchy cat onerously lounging with their fellow passengers. 

The cat reaches his or her trusty stop and abruptly departs with agile obfuscation, Shizuku still following him or her upon their route, until they reach an otherworldly destination.

The antique shop incontrovertibly proves to be a thought provoking creative catalyst. 

Whose revelations interfere with Shizuku's school work. 

After she's encouraged to write her first novel.

A peaceful celebration of the reflexive life patiently resides within Ghibli's Mimi wo sumaseba (Whisper of the Heart), routine developments ecstatically yielding to sudden opportune enigmatic spells.

Enchanting elevations of wondrous observations cleverly crafted through innocent insights, blend with sincere and caring tutelage to foster lively enthused animation.

Of course dispiriting misgivings honestly arise throughout the engagement, to provide a prudent indeterminate perplexity which must be challenged with genuine daring.

As artistic expression seeks cheerful endearment romance awkwardly bewilders simultaneously, love's flourishing wild uncertainties evoking earnest productive confusion.

Through which the narrative emanates cherished lucidity as it casually and freely progresses, the tragic clock the emergent blimp violin construction impromptu jammin'.

Not often one encounters cinema generously presented with so much levity.

Concrete complications questioned concordance. 

Mesmerized on the thoughtful horizon. 

Hauru no ugoku shiro (Howl's Moving Castle)

I suppose watching Ghibli films is like moving to a new city, assuming you're intent on exploring.

The imaginative transitions and unexpected revelations disseminate inherent constructive flux, producing gemini ensemble; it's not chaotic or turbulent or nutso, it just takes some time to make sense of it, and because the dynamics are always changing, new hypotheses consistently accrue.

Patterns precociously present themselves which embrace diversification exclaimed, staunch traditions dependably mutated as the unforeseen glibly freely fascinates.

Since cities are vast like Ghibli's repertoire there's plenty of room for cultural investigation, different neighbourhoods/themes influencing one another through variable grassroots multiplicities. 

Changing jobs from time to time can encourage synergistic sleuthing, especially if the jobs demand travel to previously unheard of quarters.

Local cuisine and enticing craftspersonship generate curious reflective lore, folksy fashions and animate complements melodically streaming eclectic impulse.

From scene to scene Ghibli regenerates and humbly presents something unanticipated, like a store that only sells mushrooms or vegan sushi or doorknobs or vinyl. 

Throw in a new language and it's wildly unpredictable as practically everything reverberates fresh meaning. By no means a walk in the park. But illuminating as time slowly passes.

Howl's Moving Castle habitually transfigures from one mobile scene to the next, thematic variation in nimble motion denoting canvas and rhythm and text.

Unfortunately their nation's at war and wizards and witches have been conscripted, before a young adult is suddenly transformed into an aged contemplative constellation.

Howl disrupts the fighting as best he can as it rashly insists, seeing no point in taking a side since they're both hellbent on destruction.

But the most powerful sorceress demands he yield and fight in the rank and file.

Even if his heart's just not in it (not me, this makes more sense if you see the film).

If he's too much of a chill elemental (see The Chronicles of Riddick).

The beautiful intricate scenes overflowing with compelling detail aptly highlight war's thoughtless menace as the bombs abruptly fall.

But many are still intent on living regardless of imperial hubris.

A romantic tale abounding with wonder that won't relent in tumultuous times, it illustrates poetic convection, while harvesting paramount mischief (not looting and destroying things but peaceful protests and critical analysis).

Sen to Chihiro no kamikakushi (Spirited Away)

A traditional family moves to the countryside to embrace less hectic surroundings, the daughter noticeably upset at having left her friends behind.

Upon trying to locate their new home, they steer down a foreboding country lane, only to stop several kilometres on down, at the sign of a diminutive statue.

Uncertain of where they are, exploration seems in order, father believing they've found an (abandoned) amusement park, where they may find something to eat.

Food awaits their lavish appetites and soon mom and dad are feasting, unaware they're gorging upon meals prepared for visiting spirits.

For they have entered an alternative dimension wherein which gods and monsters composedly bathe, their bathhouse managed by a haughty witch (Suzanne Pleshette) who's none too fond of humans.

Chihiro's (Daveigh Chase) parents are transformed into pigs for supping 'pon victuals forbidden, and she's soon looking for work, as advised by the helpful Haku (Jason Marsden). 

But it's tough to settle in since she's never laboured before, and bathing a shy stink spirit proves a vast malodorous chore.

She may be able to escape and set her parents free indeed.

But not before the greedy witch has successfully decreed. 

Sen to Chihiro no kamikakushi (Spirited Away) investigates incorporeal phenomena, substantiated on their own terms, without overlooking endemic economies.

Chihiro soon learns she was wrong to critique her cozy creature comforts, as the prospect of ceaseless work suddenly materializes. Fortunately she makes friends who don't lack sympathy or compassion, and isn't strictly monitored throughout the day, has a bit of time to roam.

Ghibli Studios presents another world overflowing with narrative innovation, unexpected otherworldly creations untethered unleashed at play.

Its characteristic light heart brightly beats as the current doth flow, but it's somewhat less innocent more frightening than some of its equally wondrous contemporaries.

As genuine affection shines through and even monsters slowly relent, the strong bonds forged between workers wholeheartedly freely cement.

In practically every scene throughout the film there's something new to charmingly ponder, even if it's comically startling or slightly stressed or wild or fearful.

As if the peeps at graceful Ghibli were concerned with chill enchantments.

The spellbinding glib green light.

Ethereally expanding.