My Neighbor Totoro (Noriko Hidaka, Chika Sakamoto)
When children must cope with life's complexities and challenges, they sometimes invent escapism of their own. Sometimes it is in the form of an imaginary friend, sometimes it is through the images they draw or colour. I could be mistaken, but I believe the children in My Neighbor Totoro handle their own crises by inventing imaginary creatures known as totoros. That I am not even sure of this point perhaps says a lot about the movie as a whole.
I have nothing against My Neighbor Totoro, I really don't. I have an immense appreciation for its look and charm, but it wasn't a magical experience for me, and certainly did not take me anywhere other than my own living room, as I tried to figure out what the heck it was all about. Perhaps my mild reaction was more of a result of its format -- that of animé -- than a direct reflection on its quality. I often have a hard time immersing myself in the shrill voices and exaggerated facial expressions that characterize the genre. Even the greatest of entries in the animé field have always seemed awkward to me, and, while I enjoy not knowing what's going to happen next in a movie, I am still unable to make that crucial leap from creativity to chaos. Yes, that's my problem, but it did impact my enjoyment of this movie.
It opens with a pair of sisters moving into a new house with their father. The eldest, Setsuki, looks out for her little sister Mei. After a wild story by their grandmother, the girls explore the new house and eventually stumble across dustbunnies with eyes. Mei wanders off and finds a totoro, which is a bunny-meets-Barbapapa combobulation. This leads her to meet a bigger totoro, essentially a big cat that flies around on a red top. There is also a cat bus that elongates its skin to allow passengers onboard. These magical passages culminate in an intriguing third act where the community looks for the lost Mei, but resolves itself in a relatively disappointing conclusion.
The girls' mother is sick, although the illness is never depicted or described. It's a critical error that cheats the audience; either writer/director Hiyao Miyazaki should have alluded to her character but not showed her, or if he decides (as he does in this case) to show the mother, her affliction must be visible. Miyazaki wants to present a world where it is easier to invent mythical creatures and evade the harshness of reality, but in failing to depict or explain her condition, he misses the mark and potentially inspires genuine confusion among the children who will be watching with their parents. I applaud My Neighbor Totoro for attempting to use imagination to provide alternate viewpoints to life's problems, but you can't feel swept away in a magical fantasy world when the real world is equally false in appearance. Herein lies the artificiality -- and the downfall -- of Miyazaki's efforts.
