Post 1, Group A--Spirited Away - Atmosphere and an Unexplainable Sadness - Brandon Ince

    Spirited Away is a 2001 film by world renown director and producer Hayao Miyazaki. Animated by Studio Ghibli, Spirited Away went on to great critical success, winning a number of awards and the praise of both critical and casual audiences alike. The characters, - enchanting. the world, - dazzling. The story, - unforgettable. Truly a modern classic in every sense, able to melt the heart of even the most cynical of curmudgeons. Alas, its' praises have been sung to high heaven and back a myriad times over. The point of this blog post is not to promote one of my favorite movies it is instead to draw attention to simple components of the movie and how they represent Japanese values and style, mainly atmosphere.

       Let's ironically jump right into things as we address the first idea of Japanese story telling, - Pacing. Spirited Away is a long movie, and it moves slow to boot. This kind of erroneous presentation is one of the main reason's some westerners are turned off to Japanese cinema. This pacing is not due to any incompetence on the screenwriters side or anything like that, it's slow on purpose. In fact, it's not erroneous presentation at all, Japanese story tellers are simply not in a hurry to serve the plot up on a piping hot plate like western story tellers would like. The focus is instead on atmosphere.
      The Japanese, since times of antiquity, have always had an appreciation for atmosphere. Traditional theater such as Noh and Kabuki are pointedly -about- setting an atmosphere often times there is no dialog, just sounds, maybe some singing - though not the sing songy type. This is reflected in Japanese cinema as much screen-time is devoted to setting a world and allowing the viewer to become aware of the atmosphere there within. Of course adding to that run-time all the while. The way in which Spirited Away specifically sets its' atmosphere is through the use of both the excellent score composed by Joe Hisaishi and the extremely detailed art and landscapes by Studio Ghibli, both of which I am only able to describe as breath taking. A lot of the time the movie stops to allow time for the world to sink in, for example the scene near the beginning of the movie when the family stumbles upon the old "abandoned theme park". Between the old train station or the rolling green field on the other side, we are allowed to see and hear and almost feel what it is like to be there. The sound of someone's voice as it bounces off the plaster walls, the sound of grass as it tumbles and blows in the wind, water as it drips from the ceiling to a puddle on the floor. To us, all these elements sound like a dumb and obvious thing to add in, but to a Japanese audience they are as valuable as the infinity stone.

   
        This movie taught me how to appreciate little things like the sound water makes when it hits a puddle, or the fact that there would even be one of those to begin with. These elements, which serve no plot purpose what so ever, are important. Which sounds ludicrous to a westerner, however, a movie as good and as powerful as Spirited Away is the perfect vehicle to elucidate these values to an otherwise unknowing audience. Spirited Away allows us the freedom to explore immediately observable things like the presentation of atmosphere and the effect it can have on us, in this regard it is a little like a teacher. Though there are still many mystifying elements of Japanese culture embedded deep within the DNA of Spirited Away, and some things that it teaches us is hard to acknowledge or even be aware of.
      The detailed landscapes are beautiful and full of life and nature,  Hisaishi's score is also equally beautiful but also somehow melancholic. I believe this pairing is a representation of a Japanese Philosophy known as "Mono no Aware". This phrase is an example of one of the many things that is simply untranslatable to English. The literal meaning is "empathy of things", though the actual meaning is a bit more airy. Basically it is a term for the awareness of impermanence. All things are transient, there is a sadness at their passing but too there is an even deeper but gentle sadness about this being the reality of life.
       It sounds depressing, and that is because it is. That being said, there is a scene near the end of the movie that takes place on a train, no dialog is spoken, the only thing we hear is that ambiatic sounds and the score, this is one of the scenes where the movie just breathes. I never knew why, but this scene always filled me with the strangest melancholic feeling. The train moves from station to station, people get on, people get off, the racks that used to be laid bare are now filled with luggage, but three stations later they are empty again. There is nothing sad about people going on their merry way, so why is it? The cab never looks the same, the cab will never look the same, it only looks like what it does now, right now. The cab changes, the people change, the scenery changes, but "Why is this sad?" I always used to think to myself, I never knew, I couldn't explain it, I didn't have the right vocabulary or cultural unconscious to even frame the idea. The idea of impermanence did not even register as a valid message for that scene, let alone as a catalyst for sadness. I never knew until I felt it for myself.

       Earlier in class we talking about the problems and solutions directors have for relaying the subjective. It's honestly amazing how film makers are able to wield their medium with enough mastery to convey an experience like that. Storming the beach at Normandy, having a psychological break down, etc. But it is something else entirely when you convey the experience of an idea that does not even exist to your audience, at least not in their culture. The event is both shaking and frustrating, as you can not even begin to explain of acknowledge what it is you feel. All the while the film acts so unapologetic about it, you wonder if the movie even meant to say something at all. Japan is a wild and crazy world.