Miyazaki's films and those of Studio Ghibli have never been an end in themselves. In fact, watching any of the studio's films only once could be limiting for the audience, as they might not capture all the meanings inserted more or less explicitly within the film's story.

The film: on one hand, we have a semi-biographical story about the aeronautical engineer Jirō Horikoshi, the inventor of the "Zero," a plane used by the Japanese during World War II, in a situation where Japan was swinging from a bad condition. And on the other, we see a Miyazaki where he pours in everything he loved throughout his life.

So much work, so much experimentation, and so much passion make this work a kind of documentary. In fact, it's impossible not to see Miyazaki in Jirō (both in appearance and ideas), the love of flying, the passion the director uses to narrate it and narrate himself, all accompanied by very simple and iconic drawings so that one can easily impersonate the characters and easily remember them.

A style that here Studio Ghibli reaches its absolute peak: the drawings, the animations, the backgrounds, and the stunning colors are all perfectly balanced, and the result is very fluid, all accompanied by the splendid melodies composed by Joe Hisaishi.

The Wind Rises is the greatest manifesto dedicated to the joy of working with what you love. It's beautiful to see in Jirō the continuous passion for airplanes that throughout the film never dies out. He studies them, he draws them day and night, and describes the pieces in their complexity; the world around him becomes an endless source of inspiration to achieve the much-loved perfection.

Even a simple fishbone can become a source of inspiration and a reason for obsessive study, a perfect curvature clean and without defects that can be used as a model for one's project.

Jirō is a man who firmly believes in what he does and would do anything to show others how proud the Japanese people can be and their skills. One of the most beautiful things I noticed in the film was the meticulousness with which Miyazaki realized the airplanes and the projects within the film. There are many, and the beauty is that none deviate from reality, and this necessarily makes everything much more believable, showing us the director's passion for making the film and his passion for airplanes.

One of the strongest and best-constructed moments of the film is undoubtedly the 1923 Kantō earthquake scene, where the technical quality is impeccable and, just like an unexpected earthquake, Jirō and other secondary characters are struck and forever change their destinies, with appearances that all have "their own life" with ever different movements, and thanks to these "small" effects, the film becomes even more alive.

Another thing that struck me greatly was the sound effects. It may sound silly, but try listening to the film. In fact, most of the sounds were produced with the mouth. Indeed, when you hear an airplane taking off, a propeller in motion, or an engine of an airplane, you will realize that humans produce these sounds. Do airplanes have their own life? Or simply something to tell?

And in a Studio Ghibli film, there is indeed no lack of a very touching love story. The relationship between Jirō and Naoko will be sincere, yet full of problems that continually separate and unite them, and only the strength of their spirits will allow them to keep going and strengthen their bond.

The story is enriched by various interludes of Italian aeronautical engineer Gianni Caproni, who will accompany Jirō throughout his life. Let's say he is almost a mentor for Jirō, urging him to always give his best and never be discouraged by problems. It's also interesting to note that the world he lives in is not real but belongs to Jirō's dreams.

Throughout the film, one can also perceive a painful note (another biographical example). Miyazaki loves warplanes, but at the same time hates war in any form, something we also find in this film in Jirō's existential doubt and a particular warning from Caproni himself: "Soaring through the sky is humanity's dream, but it is also an accursed dream; airplanes bear the weight of the destiny of becoming instruments of massacre and destruction." Should one continue to create despite this activity having negative outcomes? And Miyazaki also wanted to include this in the film, as already stated, it is the film that best represents him.

This film also received quite a few criticisms, the most common being its heaviness and slowness. I must admit, even I had some doubts the first time I saw it, also because of the long reflective pauses, not only in the subjects dealt with but also the historical references and the story itself that evolves very slowly which can bore quite a few people. But by the second viewing, it goes down like a pleasure.

Conclusion: before watching it, do not expect magic tricks or enchanted monsters we're used to from previous works. As already noted, it is a kind of documentary, and thus there are no walking castles or dragons flying in the sky, but expect a real film, and yet that doesn't make it ugly.

Please, do not judge the film on first viewing; it is an adult film. For Miyazaki, this is his last work that best represents him in an optimal manner.

"With this last flight, I retire. The arc of a creative life's duration is a decade, this is the same for artists and for designers. Live your decade to the fullest."

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