5 animated movies to glimpse into the Japanese universe

From mythology to WWII and back.

I was reading the other day that newsletters can be places of belonging. Or, better said, spaces where we can gather, share thoughts, rejoice in our common curiosities, values, questions, etc.

And because some of you asked about my passion (obsession, sic!) for anime and Japanese culture — it’s time to dive into 5 movies produced by Japanese directors, which happen to be animated ;)

Before we begin, know that the list is not a hierarchy.

I love them all just as much + my selection criteria include narrative, visual storytelling, editing & montage, soundtrack & a serious treatment of human nature (Japanese or not):

1. Mononoke Hime / Princess Mononoke (dir. Hayao Miyazaki)

I wouldn’t say it’s my favourite Hayao Miyazaki movie, but I consider it his best. The subject matter — the fight between humans and gods (kami) — is perfectly encompassed in a narrative with many strong characters, each fighting for their own survival.

Joe Hisaishi’s soundtrack (Miyazaki’s main collaborator for music composition) manages to incorporate the muddy feelings one gets when faced with evolution and destruction at the same time.

Princess Mononoke is a philosophical tale, an ecological statement, a retelling of old myths, a war flick, and more. You get something different out of it every time you watch it. And the Japanese ethical values can be read between the lines.

2. Hotaru no Haka / Grave of the fireflies (dir. Isao Takahata)

This one broke my heart the first time I watched it.

Created by Takahata, the melancholic counterpart of Studio Ghibli, it’s one of the best war films out there. Told from the perspective of children, two brothers trying to stay alive amidst the chaos, the movie is an emotional rollercoaster.

The concept of family, the pure joy of childhood, famine and poverty, community, death etc. — they all come together to present the inherent contradictions of a society in conflict.

When I watched it a second time, I realized it’s also very much about the Japanese spirit of duty and sacrifice, which might annoy some of you in its treatment throughout the movie. But you have to keep in mind that it’s a core Japanese value, which kept them going century after century of war and struggle (they have a stormy history).

3. Koto no ha no niwa / Garden of words (dir. Makoto Shinkai)

I’ve been watching and rewatching Makoto Shinkai’s work for a long time now but, for me, this one is still the best. You get all the director’s major themes in action (rainy, melancholic days, solitude, searching for your place in the world, searching for another to share your identity with, love etc.) in a mature, vividly coloured composition.

You can look at it as a coming of age story, or a love story, or a rediscovering yourself story, or you can just enjoy every frame with its sparkly blues, purples, and greens (and so many more!).

4. Akira (dir. Katsuhiro Otomo)

The traumatic atomic bomb had a lasting impact on Japanese sci-fi works and dystopian storytelling. It had been reenvisioned in many forms, whether as gigantic monsters destroying the world, alien invasions or other unexplained cataclysmic occurrences.

Otomo’s Akira is a cult classic and a masterpiece in that sense — an uncontained psychic power overtaking a post-apocalyptic Japanese society.

From children and adolescents running amock to stories of revenge, to the greater scale of a dying society, immoral experiments, and violence in all its shapes and forms, the movie is an ongoing contemplation.

Can humanity save itself from its worst impulses?

Also, check that soundtrack!

5. Paprika (dir. Satoshi Kon)

I have a general soft spot for Satoshi Kon, probably because I’ve been researching his works for a while now. Yet, Paprika continues to amaze me with its layers upon layers of meaning. It’s no wonder that Nolan’s Inception referenced it.

A sci-fi about using technology to treat mental illnesses in dreams, the movie is a deep dive into what consciousness is and how a gadget makes it hackable. Blurring many boundaries (waking/dreaming, self/other, individual/societal), it becomes a story about the inability to understand reality outside of your subjective view — a major theme in Kon’s body of work anyhow.

And I cannot end without urging you to watch Every frame a painting’s analysis on the editing of this movie, because it’s just on a level of its own:

What about you? What’s on your list?