MY NEIGHBOUR TOTORO

If you would like to experience childhood again, look no further than My Neighbour Totoro.

100/100

Original Release: 1988

Directed By: Hayao Miyazaki

Cast: Noriko Hidaka, Chika Sakamoto, Shigesato Itoi

Favourite Quote:

“If we all keep smiling, the sprites may gradually go away and leave this place alone. Yes, I'm sure that somewhere up in that ceiling, they're busily discussing plans for leaving the house.”

Favourite Shot:

I do not have kids - and I have only fairly recently become an adult myself - but I imagine watching My Neighbour Totoro is exactly like watching your kid go through childhood. It is a film that brings back forgotten memories and feelings from deep inside you.

The film manages to somehow tickle that part of your brain connected with childhood so that although what’s depicted on the screen may not be exactly what you have experienced, you connect with it in such a strong way that it feels as thought it may have.

The film is delightfully simple to describe. Two young girls, Mei (Chika Sakamoto) and Satsuki (Noriko Hidaka) , and their dopey father (Shigesato Itoi) move into a house in the Japanese countryside during the summer.

When they first enter the house we watch as the older sister runs through all the rooms of the house shadowed by her younger sister. The eldest will do one thing and the youngest will follow in exactly the same way.

It is such a basic premise, but it is incredibly impactful. We are suddenly hit with the same excitement and magic that entered our bodies whenever we would go to a new place as a child. Whilst also remembering the way we liked to mirror exactly what people older than us were doing.

Miyazaki places these little touches of magic which amplify the wonder of the sequence. There are these little dust sprites which have filled the house since it has been empty, and as the girls look into each room they all scatter away.

And he never really gives context or explains these occurrences - he just places them throughout the film like sprinkling some mysterious salt on a fine meal. And this sets up the magical tone and visual language from the beginning perfectly.

There are so many simple things like this that are spread throughout the film causing you to feel so much. They are simple, but they are executed so patiently and beautifully. There are all sorts of moments Miyazaki could pluck from childhood - but it seems like his selection is always on the mark.

Whilst staying at the house the youngest daughter explores the vast forest around her and discovers a mysterious creature called Totoro. She falls through a hole and bounces on top of Totoro’s comfortable and ample stomach. She chats with him for a while and then falls asleep.

The scene feels like a nice, heart warming dream. And somehow the animation makes you really feel safe with this mysterious creature. It’s the way he acts, his facial expressions and his eyes. But it’s also the way we can almost feel his fur, and how comfortable and soft it is.

Mei tries to explain to her father and sister what happened, but she can’t seem to get through to them. She wants so badly to be able to show them - but Totoro has disappeared. This also seems to strike a chord with childhood. The fear of not being believed, or not being understood, or not being able to share with others the magical thing that has happened to you.

There are so many simple things like this that are spread throughout the film causing you to feel so much. They are simple, but they are executed so patiently and beautifully. There are all sorts of moments Miyazaki could pluck from childhood - but it seems like his selection is always on the mark.

The first time Satsuki finally sees Totoro is the iconic scene where they are waiting for their father at the bus stop. The bus pulls up, people get out but none of them are their father. And immediately, even though Miyazaki doesn’t have to do anything, you panic because something isn’t right.

Their father should be on the bus, and he isn’t. It is a simple problem, but suddenly the world has been turned on its head. And then it begins to rain. Satsuki has the sleeping Mei on her shoulders and she holds her umbrella.

Then without a word Totoro appears next to her. Just to keep her company. It doesn’t seem as if he plans to do anything or say anything. But his presence immediately comforts the scene. Satsuki offers him an umbrella which Totoro has never used before (or needs), but he is thankful.

And he calls them the imaginative and awesome cat-bus which flies away just as their father arrives. And everything is sweet and right with the world once more. Although we might not have specifically had a cat-bus in our childhood - the image and the idea feel somehow integral to something we experienced back then.

And there are other strange images like this which arouse the same feeling. My favourite is the dream sequence where the two girls wake in the middle of the night and do a dance with the three Totoro over the seeds they had planted in the garden.

The music in this scene also seems to tap into this part of the brain as well. It is dreamy and wondrous, but also serious. This isn’t just an exaggerated dream event, this is a core moment for the children involved.

The sequence ends with the trees growing extremely high as a result of their dance. And then they wake in their beds and run out to the garden to find that the plant has, in real life, begun to slightly rise out of the ground.

And honestly who doesn’t remember having this exact thing happen to them as a child as well. That may be taken as a joke, but it’s true. The sequence truly makes you feel as if maybe you had experienced it before somehow.

There is never really any conflict in the film (which is a personal favourite genre of mine), just small disturbances that are fixed quite quickly. But the biggest obstacle arises when their mother, who has been in the hospital recovering from tuberculosis, tells them she isn’t quite ready to come home yet.

The two girls have a bit of a fight and as a result Mei runs off. The whole village looks for her everywhere and at one point they find a small shoe in the river. But immediately Satsuki confirms that it isn’t hers. And the crisis is averted. That’s really the most stressful My Neighbour Totoro gets.

My Neighbour Totoro is a magical, exquisitely drawn, warm bath of a movie. It is one of those films that completely envelopes you in its world until you have forgotten reality completely. Then it leaves you wondering where and when you are as it ends. It is a truly beautiful film.