If you don’t live in a big city (or in Japan) then you haven’t seen this film yet—excepting those with mad torrent skillz—but if there is anyone who has seen Howl’s Moving Castle I’d be very interested in hearing your thoughts on it. Hayao Miyazaki’s films are for people who find their most elaborate dreams fascinating. I am one of those people, so I am a big fan.
The prevailing review of the film amongst the movie critic community seems to be that it has lovely visuals and lovely music, but suffers from tissue-thin story, disruptive pacing, and a number of loose ends and storyline errata that don’t seem to belong anywhere. I don’t disagree with these criticisms, but I don’t think they bear the sort of relevance that the critics presume. This movie is so abstract, above and beyond its storyline, that the storyline itself almost doesn’t matter. Watching it is like watching two hours of artwork on parade. It fits more like a dream than anything else; whatever seems out of place is actually right where it belongs. The details are simply incredible, and richer grounds for imagination than any other director’s work I can bring to mind.
This is borderline heresy for me, since I am a disciple of the school of plot, but I would dare go so far as to say that a more coherent, dominant plotline would actually diminish the impact of this movie. Similarly, the characterizations are almost irrelevant…they are as superficial to the purpose of this story as the plot. The lush imagery is an exposé of our own identity—watching this film is like looking into yourself and seeing what you are all about. What parts of the story resonate with you? The tea in bowls? Sophie’s discipline and the rewards that follow? The architecture of the kingdom? Everything, absolutely everything is like some gorgeous final exam of how much a person you have become thus far in your life. Everything you recognize from the real world—every time you smile or nod in recognition—is a gold star for you.
The music, which supports the visuals rather than leading on its own, demonstrates almost the limits of Joe Hisaishi’s maestro’s expertise. The music has a limited identity outside of the film—listen to the soundtrack if you get the opportunity—but inside it lends great depth to the art as only music can. Never overbearing, never self-sufficient, the music completes the scene in an entirely submissive role.
As for my own complaints? I would like to have seen better pacing, a little more exploration of ideas throughout the film, and maybe even a bit of follow-up to various minutiae here and there, such as the color dial beside the door…but I am prepared to accept that nothing is perfect, not even the work of Mr. Miyazaki. These complaints are summarily dismissed.
This film, simply put, is as deep as your own imagination. It is either a technical masterpiece or a stroke of genius…take your pick.
