A
giant has left us. Several days ago, on
April 5th, 2018, Isao Takahata, co-founder of Studio Ghibli,
died. He was 82.
This
is a heavy blow to anyone who considers themselves an anime fan. Takahata was, in many ways, often
overshadowed in the public eye by his longtime collaborator and Ghibli
co-founder Hayao Miyazaki, who is certainly better-known to most casual
filmgoers, but everyone who has followed Studio Ghibli knows just how deeply
the two depended on and supported each other throughout their careers. Each would likely never have had the
sustained success they’ve had without the other.
Often
referred to as the “animator who can’t draw,” Takahata long carried the
nickname “Paku-San” around the Ghibli office; he would often come in each
morning loudly chomping on bread, the Japanese onamonapia for which is “paku-paku.” He was often teased by his co-workers for
being comparatively lazy and laid-back, especially when compared to Miyazaki’s
legendary work obsession. In his
afterward to a book cataloguing the studio’s early years, he credited their
professional partnership as being one of the driving forces behind his
achievements, writing, “It is through Hayao Miyazaki’s very existence that I have
always felt scolded for my slothlike tendencies, been made to feel guilty, been
cornered into doing work, and had something greater than whatever limited
talents I might possess squeezed out of me.”
However
they were brought out of him, willingly or no, Takahata’s works will indelibly
stand alongside Miyazaki’s as not just great animated films, but as some of the
greatest films of all time. He was never
as prolific, per say, as others, being credited as the director for just five
of Ghibli’s feature films to Miyazaki’s nine, but each film project he did
choose has had a striking impact, and revealed a mind capable of working
through a cast array of artistic styles and story types.
His
most well-known and arguably most influential film, 1988’s Grave of the Fireflies, is a realistic-looking, devastating
portrayal of Japan during WWII, one that Roger Ebert argued had to be on any
serious list of the greatest war movies ever made. He followed this with a meditative work on
childhood, country life, memory with Only
Yesterday (1991), a film whose tone could not have been more different, and
after that, he made the even more bizarre and fantastical Pom Poko (1994). My Neighbors the Yamadas, released five
years later, was yet another wild departure, a series of slice-of-life
vignettes from a typical, middle-class Japanese family, drawn in an almost
comically child-like style.
For
whatever reason, he didn’t head another major project with the company until
nearly a decade-and-a-half later. But
when he finally did return to the directing chair, the result was an artistic
thunderbolt. 2013’s The Tale of Princess Kaguya not only ranks as one of the best
works in the Ghibli canon, I have fervently argued on more than one occasion that it deserves to be considered one of the greatest films of all time. It now turns out that it will stand as his
final feature film, but my God, what a note to go out on.
Takahata
may be gone, but his works resonate with such power and force that his memory
will long outlive us all. Every film of
his is worth seeing, and if you haven’t seen any of them yet, now is as good a
time to start as any.
Arigatou
gozaimasu, Paku-San. You are already
sorely missed, but you will never be forgotten.
-Noah Franc
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