In 2013, following the release of The Wind Rises, Hayao Miyazaki announced his retirement from feature films. It didn’t last long, but it did give us one of only a few Studio Ghibli films with neither directing nor screenwriting credit from Miyazaki or Isao Takahata: When Marnie Was There. The other two films with that distinction are Tales from Earthsea and The Cat Returns — an overambitious disaster and a delightful if superficial romp, respectively.
Thankfully, Marnie is neither a disaster nor superficial: it’s a beautiful, true-to-life, emotionally powerful coming-of-age story. Released in 2014 and directed by Hiromasa Yonebayashi, the story centers on young Anna, a withdrawn and melancholic girl who is sent to spend time with her aunt and uncle in the countryside in hopes of ameliorating her asthma. There, she meets the enigmatic and titular Marnie, who seems to already know Anna and who lives in a mansion that seems to keep flipping from regal and fully-staffed to dilapidated and abandoned. Marnie’s identity and the exact source of Anna’s woes are equally engaging mysteries that Marnie wisely takes its time unspooling. |
While the visuals may not have the wow-factor of Arrietty, Yonebayashi’s stunning directorial debut, Marnie is still a feast for the eyes. What sticks out the most is the depiction of the Kushiro wetlands where Anna spends most of the movie. It inspired such a longing for that kind of natural landscape, in fact, that I literally got up and took my dog for a walk through some nearby woods about ⅔ of the way through this movie. You will want to move to rural Japan; accept this, and keep watching.
The other immediately striking element of Marnie is Anna herself. The movie opens with an internal monologue in which Anna describes how she’s never felt like she belongs; that sentiment has been shared by countless young-adult protagonists, but usually it feels like an afterthought tacked on in service of a bland “Be Yourself!” message. Marnie actually makes the effort to depict the causes and consequences of that feeling. Fellow introverts will cringe in solidarity as adults make social commitments on Anna’s behalf — right in front of her! — and nod vigorously as Anna flees incoming extroverted strangers to avoid the mortifying ordeal of being known. But flee all she likes, Anna can’t escape being adopted by a series of friendly, patient extroverts. There’s certainly some conflict in the story, and the movie isn’t shy about letting us see Anna mess up, but by and large Marnie pulls off the magic trick of having emotional resonance without ever really getting unpleasant. Most of the people Anna meets are wonderful, and it’s a pleasure watching her slowly come out of her shell. Studio Ghibli always knocks the side characters out of the park, and Yonebayashi continues the tradition here. |
Now, some people might take issue with the statement that Marnie never gets “unpleasant.” What I mean is that there are no Umbridges or Joffreys running around to make you want to throw things, and the characters aren’t punching bags like in Grave of the Fireflies.
Marnie does get sad, but it’s a sweet, kind sadness that just makes you want to go upstairs and pick up your sleeping baby and hold her for a bit. I’m going to stop there because I’m writing this at work and really don’t want people to think I’m tearing up over the mushed peas and zoodles recipe I’m supposed to be editing. There will be more on this in the Spoiler Zone, but you should know that Marnie really benefits from being watched twice. It’s that rare phenomenon where the first watch is enriched by the desire to understand, and the second watch is enriched by already knowing. Even if you aren’t in the habit of re-watching films, you won’t be disappointed by a second viewing here. I adore this movie. The only real flaw — made in all innocence, I believe — is also spoiler-y to talk about, but suffice to say that it is also less of a problem on the second watch. When Marnie Was There is funny, affecting, and beautiful. The future of How Do You Live seems uncertain; if Marnie does turn out to be the last Ghibli film, it would make a fine end for the storied studio. Up Next: Funny thing — there’s nothing next! At least, as of February 5, 2020, When Marnie Was There is the last movie published by Studio Ghibli. A few years ago, Miyazaki announced that he was un-retiring to direct a new film, How Do You Live; however, the projected release has been continually pushed back, and in a recent interview, Miyazaki stated that the movie was only about 15% finished after years of work. Barring new Ghibli movies, I’ll likely review some other highly acclaimed anime features — I’ve heard good things about Millennium Actress and Wolf Children. I considered reviewing Ocean Waves, a technically-Studio-Ghibli movie made for TV in the 90s, but I watched it and … it wasn’t great. I didn’t want to end my Ghibli reviews on a down note, so I decided against it. (The short version is that it’s an enemies-to-lovers story that spends 99% of the movie on the “enemies” part.) For now, I’ll just say thank you for reading. This has been a fun, educational, and fulfilling project for me, and the fact that any of these posts have been liked or shared has been a pleasant surprise. Watch out for one last Spoiler Zone after the image! |
SPOILER ZONE
Ok, so, my biggest issue with When Marnie Was There is that, before you know that Marnie is Anna’s grandma’s ghost, the way their interactions are written and animated gives off biiiiiiiiiiiiiig lesbian vibes. The way they talk, when Marnie shows Anna how to row the boat, the dancing, the repeated pleas to keep their relationship a secret, the femme/butch pairing, the blushing …. let’s just say I have several notes from my first watch along the lines of “wow Anna has big Oblivious Lesbian energy” and “surprised to see something this progressive from Studio Ghibli way back in 2014.” Naturally, I retroactively felt super gross about all that once it clicked that it was a different relationship entirely. Like I said above, this is ameliorated when watching the second time. It’s easier to see how one could interpret it all differently — Anna’s not interested in Marnie romantically, she just literally has never had a friend before and is very overwhelmed by the whole thing. Likewise, Marnie is simply sad to see how withdrawn her granddaughter is and determined to bring her out of her shell. But yeah, someone really needed to look at the storyboards for this movie and tell Studio Ghibli to tone down the blushing, because in 2020 (and I can’t imagine it came across too differently back in 2014) it reads as a very clearly telegraphed gay romance, and the ick factor when Marnie’s identity is revealed detracts from what is otherwise an extremely sweet, sad, and beautiful story. Stray Notes:
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