“Trees and people used to be good friends.”
My Neighbor Totoro, 1988, is a Japanese animated family-fantasy film written and directed by the legendary Hayao Miyazaki and animated by the equally synonymous animation studio, Studio Ghibli. The story takes place in post World War 2 rural Japan and follows two young girls Satsuki, voiced by Noriko Hidaka, and her younger sister Mei, voiced by Chika Sakamoto. We follow the two sisters alongside their father Tatsuo, voiced by Shigesato Itoi, as the family move to the countryside close to where their mother Yasuko, voiced by Sumi Shimamoto, is being treated for a never-stated illness. Once relocated, the two sisters befriend a strange, magical beast they name Totoro, Hitoshi Takagi, who helps the pair in various ways.
My Neighbor Totoro is remarkably one of the most gentle and heartwarming films I’ve ever watched. Little happens in terms of conflict. There is a fly-on-the-wall feel to it as we watch Satsuki and Mei navigate their newfound home, interact with the neighbouring villagers, and come to grips with their mother’s illness. Though Yasuko’s hospitalisation drives the plot, fear of calamity is almost entirely absent from the film's 126-minute runtime. Instead, viewers are treated to a soft, slice of life piece experienced by the two sister characters.
In a lot of Japanese anime and animated films, audiences will often see children characters in very adult situations. This isn’t the case in My Neighbor Totoro. Satsuki and Mei both carry the whimsy, wonder, and freedom typical of children their age (approximately 10 and 4 years old respectively). The sisters' wide-eyed wonder is on full display from the jump as the pair probe every inch of their new house - playfully shaking down decaying timber wood, screaming their presence into dark and dusty attics, and marvelling at a tall camphor tree.
“To-to-ro? You're Totoro!... I bet you're Totoro…”
Mei is the more boisterous of the two sisters, a trait of which that crowns her as the star of the film in my eyes. She does not have a quiet voice, and tends to explode with enthusiasm in most interactions. Chika does a standout job in this regard. She impressively maintains Mei’s youthful, energetic spirit, even towards the end of the film when Mei is glum and fearful for her mother’s wellbeing. Mei is first to encounter the forest spirits inhabiting the family’s new found home. She is at first a little spooked by these small, black, fuzzy entities. However, her curiosity leads her down the hollow of the aforementioned camphor tree where she meets Totoro. Her energy matches the magic of the titular character, but also carries a nostalgic presence that resonated with me. Later on in the film, she plucks a piece of corn from her nanny’s farm and holds it tight, fighting off hungry goats and sweeping winds as she travels fast aboard the Catbus, all in an effort to gift the vegetable to her sick mother. Mei’s juvenile affection truly sets her apart from the rest of the characters.
In contrast, Satsuki is slightly more refined. She is joyful and inquisitive but to a lesser degree. She is also the voice of concern after receiving a disconcerting letter from the hospital about their mother. The adults in this film play a very passive role, so Satsuki’s maturity and worry is appreciated as a means to add some drama to the film. Satsuki’s character shines the brightest through her interactions with Kanta, a local village boy voiced by Toshiyuki Amagasa, who develops a crush on her. The two’s interactions bring a subtle coming-of-age nuance to the film - in the pouring rain and without a word, Kanta hands Satsuki an umbrella for shelter. He affectionately watches over her during class, and is the one to help the two sisters call their mother from his house telephone. Overall, I preferred Kanta as a character, though he is less present in the film, but enjoyed his and Satsuki’s very cute relationship together all the same.
“You probably met the king of the forest.”
I found Totoro an endearing but peculiar character. It takes a while for him to appear in the film and doesn’t do much when he eventually does. He, very loosely, belts out his name, naps, and is gone as quick as he came. Out of the four scenes he’s involved in, I enjoyed only two. The first is when he waits at the bus stop with the two little sisters and the other is when does a sort of ritual dance which causes a tree to grow, bursting with life. Totoro is a nurturing figure for both the land and the children, bringing Miyazaki's signature magic to their story. I think it's likely this nurturing presence and nature that’s made him the iconic character that he is today.
When it comes to animation and design, My Neighbor Totoro does not miss the mark. The film boasts stunning hand-drawn, watercolour-esque backgrounds that really are awe-inspiring. The colour palette, rich yet rendered in gentle pastels, perfectly complements the film's good-willed nature. The rural setting of the movie feels like one of peace and growth - the access to bustling vegetables that can be picked with ease, plants and trees sprouting through magic, and the abundant presence of water whether it be streams, ponds, or rain. The character design for Mei, village elders, Kanta, Totoro, and other forest spirits are great. Mei, sports playful pigtails, and has a much wider, gentler face, than her otherwise narrow-faced sister. The village elders maintain Miyazaki’s and Ghibli’s classic hunchbacks with large facial features, and are dressed in loose fitting robes. Kanta has an archetypal buzzcut of a simple Japanese adolescent boy. Totoro is a large snuggly creature, reminiscent of Baloo, The Jungle Book, or Disney’s Winnie The Pooh. The design of the small forest spirits as well as the goofy Catbus, with its Cheshire Cat smile, all help add to the timeless feel of the film.
The pacing in My Neighbor Totoro is intentionally, and surprisingly, slow. There is little in terms of plot or character arcs which viewers may find boring. For a Hayao Miyazaki film, it is a lot more human driven and less fantastical than his other entries. Totoro does not have a lot of screen time, which is a shame given his popularity. It is best to view the film as it is and not expect any surprises or sharp twists and turns in the narrative. I found the ending emotional, but slightly lacklustre. Yasuko’s illness, though after digging online is apparently hinted to be tuberculosis (this was not obvious to me), is never explicitly mentioned. The not being in the know makes the ending segment of the film, where her condition has potentially worsened, a little less eventful. I found myself not truly believing she was in any real harm. It felt like the whole scenario was an attempt to have Totoro and the other forest spirits help save the day, which they indeed do. I also felt Satsuki’s character design was a bit flawed, especially when compared to her younger sister. She has a boyish look to her that does not feel intentional, and overall unremarkable features. There are a lot of quiet moments in the film devoid of dialogue or music. This is something I tend to enjoy in Japanese animated films and anime as it can add gravitas to particular scenes. However, when music was present, I found it slightly airy-fairy. The dialogue itself is very natural which I think helped to balance out the otherwise mediocre soundtrack.
"I Thought I Saw Satsuki And Mei Smiling At Us From Up In That Tree."
Overall, My Neighbor Totoro is a great good-feel watch, especially for those quiet, cosy Sunday nights. I think audiences have, and will, gravitate to the film’s warmth and rawness. My Neighbor Totoro resonates with me on an emotional level, more so than through memorable scenes or dialogue, not to say there aren’t some nice bits. I’m surprised Totoro as a character has become as iconic as he has, given his scarce screen time. Though it is not surprising his representation of harmony is so loveable. I’ll give it a generous 8 for being so uplifting.
Overall: 8/10
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