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Rating: Some essential premises. The reason I decided to write this review, which might be the first in a not-so-short series, is the DeBaserian lack of articles regarding Studio Ghibli films. Although there are stellar reviews on some of Miyazaki and Takahata's undisputed masterpieces, other great and small works have yet to receive the attention they deserve.
But don't expect anything from what I will write: my intention is not to finally do justice to these gems of Japanese animation with reviews worthy of such a name, but to encourage more competent people to do better than me, so that this unbearable void is finally filled.
After this blatant declaration of humility, it would be ridiculous to tackle a work as significant as "Spirited Away" or "Omohide Poro Poro". That's why I chose to start with a so-called "minor work" (also because I just watched it and prefer to share my fresh impressions). But I've already spoken enough about myself, it's time to give space to the work.
First of all, some technical data. "Mimi o Sumaseba" ("Whisper of the Heart") is a 1995 film directed by Yoshifumi Kondo, written by Hayao Miyazaki, and produced, of course, by Studio Ghibli. It is chronologically placed between Takahata's Pom Poko and Miyazaki's monumental Princess Mononoke. As is well known, these two gentlemen are the founders of the Studio and authors of almost all Ghibli films. It's then automatic that Kondo's anime is considered a minor work. But is it really? No, not in the slightest. In my view, "Whispers of the Heart" (its international title) deserves to be in the Ghibli Olympus alongside its so-called older siblings. It has nothing to envy from a "Spirited Away" or a "Nausicaa". An important claim, which needs to be justified.
It will then be necessary to say a few words about Yoshifumi Kondo. Not only did he work on many of the Studio's works, and also some pre-Ghibli productions, but he was the designated successor to Miyazaki and Takahata, and would probably be at the peak of his career today if he hadn't been cut short by an aneurysm in 1998 at the age of 47, just three years after the release of his only film as a director, "Whispers" indeed. To understand Kondo's deep bond with Miyazaki and Takahata (especially the latter), I recommend reading the words the two masters wrote on the occasion of his passing. They commemorate him as a man and an artist, but also as a source of inspiration, almost as if he were one of their fantastic characters who magically stepped off the page to spend a brief life in our world, disappearing prematurely like too thin a pencil stroke. Then just the fact that this work exists is a miracle in itself. And finally, it's time to delve into this masterpiece.
The plot is simple: it all revolves around the young protagonist, Shizuku Tsukishima, a fourteen-year-old student leading a normal life in Tokyo. We are immediately shown her almost manic passion for novels, partly due to her father working at the local library. It's precisely from the borrowing of books that the spark ignites the whole plot and guides its development (along with a subsequent, providential encounter with a stray cat). Shizuku, in fact, notices when consulting the loan cards inserted in library books, that a certain Seiji Amasawa precedes her in nearly every reading. This discovery, although it will have immensely important consequences in the film's story and the protagonist's life, is partly a narrative pretext to tell a whole series of changes that will upset Shizuku's little world. Over the course of the film, she will meet new friends, while some existing relationships will become complicated. She will have to question her future and her abilities, testing herself with an attitude of premature responsibility. She will face her first love, and it will be far from easy because love itself, more than anything else, will question everything she knows about life and especially about herself. "Whispers of the Heart" is precisely this: the story of a troubled but hopeful inner growth and a love that doesn't rest on its laurels but is a push towards improvement. Shizuku doesn't face colossal monsters like Nausicaa, nor does she fight against an entire village like Princess Mononoke, but she is undoubtedly a heroine. She's Kiki set in a more realistic context and perhaps endowed with greater introspection. Yet the space given to fantasy is no less, even if it's all the fruit of Shizuku's imagination, much more obviously than in Totoro. An imagination that will gift us glimpses of a fantastic world (rendered thanks to the backgrounds by painter Naohisa Inoue), but only at the right time and always sparingly, as befits the truly precious things. This film also has the indisputable merit of clearly establishing once and for all the importance of the child's figure in the Ghibli universe, praising not some undefined qualities that would be denied to not-so-innocent adults, but the creative potential with an "impetuous, straightforward, and imperfect" result like a "raw gem freshly extracted". A common vision, in my opinion, across all Ghibli works, but here, less than elsewhere, it risks being misunderstood.
Much more could be said about the plot, but I believe this film needs to be discovered firsthand. The same goes for the characters, of whom I have said little or nothing. Suffice it to know that even the adults, particularly the elders, have great significance.
All the qualities I've talked about so far seem to be solely due to Hayao Miyazaki's screenplay, which indeed plays a primary role, but it's not enough to "make" the film. Although I don't have the expertise to objectively judge the technical quality of an animated film, I feel, however, that Kondo's direction achieved what the master's screenplay alone couldn't do. It made me experience firsthand what I, while pretending to talk about the plot, communicated to you, and much more. Not only: it did so well that it made me forget my existence for an hour and fifty minutes, bringing me to live a life that is not mine, and finally returning me to reality significantly changed. For the length of the film, I was Shizuku, despite the differences in age, gender, nationality, and character, and I grew up once again. And to think that there are still those who believe that watching animated films is a refusal to grow up by hiding in childhood. Isn't it during childhood that one grows the most?
Before summing up, there are still some details worth mentioning.
The music, for example, curated by Yuuji Nomi. There would be much to say, both about the soundtrack and the role of music in the film, but what stays with you most is certainly the massive use of John Denver's "Country Roads." It opens and closes the film, albeit in two very different versions, and we find it sung and played by the protagonists on several occasions, even in one of the film's most beautiful scenes (the impromptu orchestra scene). Who knows how many times I might have heard it in passing, for instance, on the radio, yet it had never made its way into my musical memory, not even slightly. Well, a week after watching "Whispers of the Heart," I'm still humming it. But thinking about it, it's not just the continuous reprise of the theme that has etched it in my memory to such an extent. If at first, the country song may seem somewhat random, as you continue watching the film, you realize how important it is both in terms of plot and the themes explored. I would really like to know what John Denver thinks about it.
Additionally, we must at least mention the manga from which the screenplay is derived, "Whisper of the Heart" by Aoi Hiiragi, and another Studio Ghibli film, "The Cat Returns," directed in 2002 by Hiroyuki Morita, which is supposed to be the ideal sequel to "Whispers of the Heart," but which I unfortunately have yet to see.
In conclusion, "Mimi o Sumaseba" is a masterpiece of Japanese animation, one of Studio Ghibli's many gems and, in my opinion, one of the most precious. Although of the sentimental genre, it can be appreciated by any type of audience, regardless of gender and age, as long as they are willing to let themselves be enchanted by a childish but not infantile art and a simple yet not trivial plot. If you trust in the pen of Miyazaki and the pencil of Kondo and let go of any prejudice, you might be as struck as I was, if not more.
Some final thoughts. You might feel deceived. I declared that I wanted to review this film because I didn't dare yet tackle the great masterpieces, and then I described it as if it was one. One thing is certain: this film is a masterpiece.
You might also say that I haven't been objective enough, and you'd be right. But how can one be objective when falling in love with a work of art?
Finally, you might say that I've talked too much about myself. It's true, but this is my first review, and I felt I somehow needed to introduce myself. In the future, I'll let the works speak more.
I hope you enjoyed the review, and I apologize for any errors and quirks in punctuation, the excessive length, and my magical power to write so much while saying so little.
(Note: the phrases quoted in the fourth paragraph are spoken in the film, in the Italian version, by Shiro Nishi, the elderly owner of the antique shop).
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