In his excellent series, Movies with Mikey, Mikey Neumann asks a question about Jurassic Park II: Can one stupid scene ruin a great movie? When that little girl defeats a previously terrifying velociraptor with “gymnastics,” it undermines their power to scare the audience and spotlights a character the audience has no reason to like. But does that erase any and all good qualities the rest of the movie has?
This question is terribly relevant to From Up on Poppy Hill, a 2011 film directed by Gorō Miyazaki. The son of Hayao Miyazaki, Gorō also directed the disappointing Tales from Earthsea. In Poppy Hill, he appears to have learned some lessons from his previous experience; the movie is enjoyable, moving, and packed with some of Studio Ghibli’s best dialogue yet. This brings us back to Mikey’s question: Can the inclusion of a subplot that is in poor taste, hackneyed, and unnecessary ruin an otherwise fantastic film? Let’s just say this review’s going to have a hefty Spoiler Zone. |
There’s plenty to talk about before we get there, though. Set in 1963, Poppy Hill tells the story of two teenagers, Umi and Shun. Umi is uber-responsible, essentially running a boarding house for her Grandmother while also studiously attending school and keeping an eye on her younger sister. She doesn’t have much choice in the matter; her father died while serving in WWII, and her mother is studying in America.
Shun has a more normal home life, but is deeply involved in “the Latin Quarter,” a massive, old, and dilapidated building that houses innumerable school clubs (all of which are apparently boys-only). The major plot thread of the movie concerns attempts by, you know, Big Business or whoever to demolish the Latin Quarter and build a shiny new facility in its place. The facility would still be for the students, so it’s not a matter of losing their place; it’s a matter of losing the historical building itself. While Umi’s extreme competence and selflessness endear her to the viewer, the Latin Quarter steals the show whenever the characters visit. I always think it’s bogus and pretentious when people speak of a city or location as “another character, really,” but they’d probably say it about the quirky clubhouse. I’d still disagree, though. The Latin Quarter is such a fun locale because of the many well-written actual characters inside it. The lavish details of the building itself don’t hurt, of course, but it’s really the clubs themselves that bring it to life. |
A big part of that comes from some of the best, let’s call it, “background dialogue” of any movie I’ve seen. Neither Umi nor Shun are particularly funny, but the large cast of unnamed Latin Quarter club members are consistently hilarious throughout the movie. At the risk of doing the original screenwriters a discredit, I’m tempted to lay some of this success at the feet of Kathleen Kennedy and Frank Marshall, who oversaw the production of the U.S. dub. Both also worked on the dubs for Ponyo and Arrietty, which were also excellently localized. Whoever deserves the credit, the movie is much richer for it.
Now, I’ve said that Umi and Shun aren’t especially funny, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t compelling. Just like the club members who populate the Latin Quarter, the protagonists are endearing because they both feel like they have lives outside of this movie. In different ways, Umi and Shun are both competent and passionate people, avoiding the “waiting for the plot to start” feeling that comes from less fully realized characters. Umi in particular has a moving emotional arc, made all the more powerful by how much of her growth, while inspired by those around her, seemed to come from decisions she made on her own. Clearly, there’s a lot to love about From Up on Poppy Hill. The fly in the ointment shows up as Umi and Shun grow closer. It’s only natural that the movie would introduce some form of conflict into the story of their relationship, but the chosen form of that conflict leaves a bad taste in your mouth. It’s something of a twist and happens a good bit into the movie, so I’ll only discuss it directly in the Spoiler Zone, but the long and short of it is that it was a poor choice, it doesn’t give our protagonists anything interesting to do, and it took me about 10 seconds to think of an alternative that would involve minimal differences to the rest of the story. |
You may recall that Gorō’s previous directorial effort, Tales From Earthsea, showed some promise but was ultimately weighed down by its failures. You may wonder if Poppy Hill is in a similar situation; fortunately, although the Bad Subplot does detract from the movie, the ratio of good to bad here is wildly better than in Earthsea. This time around, the strengths outweigh the blunders, and I recommend it to any Ghibli fans — I just wish the recommendation didn’t have to come with an asterisk.
Up Next: It’s The Wind Rises! It’s currently Hayao Miyazaki’s most recent film (no release date for How Do You Live? yet) and I’m very excited for it. Stray Notes:
Spoiler Zone So, Umi and Shun are growing closer and like 5 seconds from making out when they discover that Umi’s late father is also Shun’s birth father, who gave him to Shun’s adoptive parents when he was still just a baby. They’re actually brother and sister! Who doesn’t love a good incest subplot? Besides being soapy and gross, it just doesn’t make for a good story. It’s an automatic shutdown; you can’t even root for them to “overcome” this obstacle and still end up together, because … incest. While you could say there’s something to watching them learn to interact with each other non-romantically, it just kind of torpedoes their part of the movie for a bit. I say for a bit, because of course this subplot is resolved the only way it possibly could be: Oops, they actually aren’t brother and sister! Herein lies the other part of the problem — the resolution has nothing to do with the efforts of Umi and Shun. Like I said, it doesn’t really work to have them trying to “solve” this problem, so they’re simply informed at the end of Act 3 that Umi’s dad took baby Shun from another dude, who died, and gave him to Shun’s birth parents. Action is artificially injected into this story by having the not-so-star-crossed pair race across town so they can meet a sailor who knew their parents before his ship leaves. While I understand that they’d want to meet this man, they both seemingly know all the important bits — i.e., that they aren’t related — before they talk to him, which makes the sense of urgency feel very forced. I say “seemingly” because for reasons unknown, we only see Umi learn this crucial information. We never see Shun learn it, and we never see the two of them talk about it. Presumably, what should’ve been a climactic moment happens off-screen. All the narrative problems aside, it’s also just gross whenever the scripts ties itself into knots to make incest a concern. It was bad in Speaker for the Dead, it was bad in the trailer for that stupid theme park show, it was bad in Game of Thrones, it’s bad in every other comedy anime, and it’s bad here. I can only assume that this was their way of having the relationship reflect the theme of the past affecting the present? But they could’ve just as easily introduced conflict through a revelation that Umi’s dad was somehow responsible for the death of Shun’s dad: it makes the past a barrier between them, puts them in a place to work at not letting the past actions of others affect their future, AND at no point does anyone have to say, “wait, don’t worry, it’s actually not incest!” Wins all around! |