The Boy and The Heron

Simply put: I loved this movie.

I knew going in that this movie would be right up my alley. The title said it all. It gave me short story vibes, something wholesome and eery with a simple narrative.

Arguably, nothing about Studio Ghibli movies is simple (Howl’s Moving Castle was a lot—it was brilliant—but thematically, a LOT was happening). It worked, though, because the genre suited the format of the narrative.

Where it didn’t work, and what I’ve noticed a huge influx of, are movies that want to be “Everything, Everywhere, All At Once” (which, yes, is a phenomenal movie—go watch it if you haven’t already—but for the purpose of this sentence, I use it as a pun)—that is to say, movies that want so badly to be more than they need to be. Riverdale and The Whale are perfect examples of this phenomenon. These movies/TV shows are overburdened with too many themes and literally spell out the message they are trying to convey through heavy expositional dialogue, and out-of-nowhere plot twists (a.k.a, Betty has a dark alter ego that the show will never delve into; the Mormon character is actually a thief, and the daughter is randomly a psychopath willing to drug and blackmail him).

The Boy and The Heron broke this cycle. I mean, okay, it isn’t simple (we got a bunch of different storylines, from the great-grandfather to the Pigeon King, to time-travelling, and war), but it doesn’t deviate from the main message. At its core, The Boy and the Heron is about grief and love. And, just like Everything, Everywhere, All At Once (which perfectly encapsulates the complex relationship between mother and daughter and cultural identity—seriously, watch it), this movie, too, uses the relationship between mother and son—and stepmother and stepson—to examine the complex nature of love and grief. The movie is about passing stories and about learning how to let go.

I will say, I was surprised by the horror-story element of the movie. Setting its lore around the abandoned tower by his late mother's childhood home (one where he and his father moved to during the war in Tokyo), the movie establishes a creepy haunted house vibe. Add the creepier stalking Heron who attempts to lure poor, grieving Mahito into the tower with the promise his mother is alive, the disturbing flock of grandmothers, the ominous lore surrounding the tower, and the evocative stillness surrounding the serene, in the middle of nowhere home with his mother’s pregnant look-a-alike, the movie encapsulates the intimate, isolating experience of grief and trauma. The pacing is beautiful; the build-up is awesome, if not a tad bit long.

Then, Mahito enters the tower.

Studio Ghibli, like usual, kills it with the animations, creating its trademark surrealistic, strangely soothing, strangely uncanny world, easy to get lost in. Each character is personable and unique, and the resolution is heartfelt and warm.

I will say, if there was anything worth developing within the movie, it would be Miniko’s role in Mahito and his mothers’ storyline—I wish there was something more tangible connecting them to create a full circle. As of now, other than the pack of cigarettes, Miniko feels a little forced. I would also love to understand a bit more about the Pigeon King and why he is such a threat. It might’ve been stronger if the Pigeon King was a manifestation of Mahito’s relationships with his mother and stepmother. Other than that, this is a two-hour-long movie that I think is worth the watch!