If, like me, you live in Maine, this movie was difficult to actually find in a theater. I drove over 100 miles to squeeze into the very tiny Nickelodeon in Portland, apparently the only screen still showing Ponyo. I have no idea why no one is running this film; it seems a bit provincial to still treat Miyazaki movies like arthouse films, but thats Maine for you.
My reaction to the film was mixed, as I'll discuss, but I should start by saying that my 5-year-old absolutely loved it, as did (it seemed) all the other kids in the theater (there was enthusiastic applause at the end). Ponyo is definitely a "kid's movie", as opposed to an all-ages movie. That's not to say it can't be enjoyed by us crusty old grown-ups, but Miyazaki is definitely writing to children here, more-so even than in Kiki's or My Neighbor Totoro. I would not have guessed this from the Disney trailers, but I would say that Ponyo represents the youngest target audience Miyazaki has ever made a movie for.
The story of Ponyo is a loose adaptation of the Little Mermaid (the original fairy tale, not the Disney movie). While the Disney antecedent has its qualities, Ponyo seems almost lightyears beyond it in terms or originality and creative interpretation. Instead of a hyper-sexualized teenager, the "mermaid" here is a fish turned human (by her own magical power), who frequently reverts to a fish-faced hybrid when taxed. She is much younger, as is her human companion Sōsuke; both of them seem around 5 years old. This is the crucial difference in terms of story, while Ponyo is indeed trying to become human and join our world, and her love for Sōsuke (and well as his for her) is central to that, its obviously not the romantic love typical in such stories. Instead, Sōsuke demonstrates a protective and nurturing affection for Ponyo, one that he sees modeled by his mother, who cares for the elderly. Its not strictly accurate to say that theirs is a sibling relationship, rather, the film deals with love entirely from a child's point of view. The movie ends with a freeze of Sōsuke and Ponyo kissing, but its very much a kiss between young children, and the primary expression of their relationship is in their care and concern for each other, and the obvious delight they take in each other's company. I found this unbelievably refreshing; and it was accomplished so naturally that it makes you wonder why its so rare in children's media. Its easy to lament how all of the sugary romances of Disney and the like set us up for unrealistic expectations in adult relationships, but Miyazaki avoid the whole issue brilliantly, simply by relating directly to a child's experience of love. If nothing else, Ponyo puts Miyazaki clearly on the level of masters like Beatrix Potter and A.A. Milne in his uncanny ability to adopt a child's world-view and speak through it. As a parent, I can't imagine a film I would rather show to my child.
In typical Miyazaki fashion, there is redemption for all the characters, even those we are initially tempted to label villains. This is something his fans have come to appreciate, and its certainly present in Ponyo, though he has seemingly less interest in setting up the initial classification. In Spirited Away, for example, Yubaba is strongly cast in the villain role to begin with, even though this is eventually softened and undermined. In such previous films, it seemed as though Miyazaki was intent on challenging the traditional dualistic bent of typical children's tales. In Ponyo, he seems almost to have lost interest in (or transcended) the need for "bad guys" in his story (though the very young age of the target audience may have contributed to this). Ponyo's father is the only character to even begin to resemble a typical villain, but even he is more of a misguided sourpuss than a true menace. Both he and the grumpy denizen of the nursing home are shown in a positive light by the close of the story.
I found the look of the film and the animation technique to be surprising. Miyazaki has spoken before about his conservative position on computer animation, and its used sparingly (though to great effect) in most of his films. In Ponyo, he seems to be utterly rejecting both technological effects and modern surface treatments. Its not a stretch to say that, visually, Ponyo could have been made 30 years ago. While it in no sense lacked in magical visuals, such as the unforgettable scene of Ponyo running across the storm waves, in general the film felt remarkably minimalist. Background paintings had a very storybook illustration feel, the characters and cel shading were very very simple, and even the landscape (where Miyazaki has been known to go nuts) was reserved. Again, some of this can be explained by the simplicity of the story Miyazaki intended to tell, but it also felt (to me) like an aesthetic statement. Its almost as though Miyazaki intended to prove that he could tell a compelling tale without ANY of the bells and whistles that have so occupied animators for the last two decades (at least). The storybook illustration connection is inescapable; one is reminded of the simplicity of the original Curious George drawings, fading into the blank white of the page, or the visible pen lines and simple color washes of Winnie the Pooh. The closest Ponyo comes to a dazzling effect is the glowing cascade of fish when Ponyo first taps into her powers, but even this looks more like Don Bluth-esque backlighting than anything truly contemporary.
My initial reaction to the look of Ponyo, to be honest, was disappointment. A big part of my love for Spirited Away is the pure visual delight that nearly every frame seems to elicit. I went to the theater expecting a similar experience (helped in part by the Disney trailers, which focus exclusively on those few moments of dramatic visuals), but Ponyo is not that kind of film. While I appreciated the story (and the masterful-as-usual storytelling), it didn't speak to me personally the way previous movies have. That said, the film certainly stayed with me, and as a visual storyteller myself, it has begun to pose some interesting questions about style versus substance. Miyazaki's message is as strong as ever, those themes dear to his heart presented in a simple but compelling way. While his position as the undisputed master of the animated movie gives him a great degree of freedom, I'm nevertheless impressed by his daring rejection of much of what has made animation successful in recent years. I'm reserving judgement for the time being (I'm not sure that "thumbs up/thumbs down" ratings serve any purpose anyway), but this movie should be watched, for certain. Anyone can find something to enjoy here, and with the possible exception of Wall-E, its the best movie to take young kids to that I've seen in a very long time.
Adam
