The Women of Miyazaki's "Princess Mononoke"
This afternoon, I saw “Princess Mononoke” at the Philadelphia Film Center.
“Princess Mononoke” was the first Miyazaki movie I ever saw. I watched it on VHS, on a tiny TV with a built-in VCR in my childhood bedroom. I’ve seen it dozens of times in the two decades since, dubbed more often than subbed. (I prefer the dub, for nostalgic and Neil Gaiman reasons—if you know, you know.) This time, in theaters, it was the sub. The immersive, almost magical nature of experiencing this Japanese story in its original language, the sweeping nature scenes, and the swelling music of Joe Hisaishi’s incredible score all contributed to my main takeaway from this viewing:
What an absolute epic.
“Princess Mononoke” is a myth about the dawn of modernity, of one way magic left this world. It was such a special experience to see this film on the big screen. During this viewing, I took special note of how, in a story about industrialization’s deleterious effects on the environment and the Gods and the Ways of Old, Miyazaki tap-dances along the ideological tightrope of condemning the senseless destruction of nature for the sake of progress while simultaneously acknowledging the positive change this progress can bring for women. I’ve always loved the women of this film. As the foundations of the economy and the rule of law shift beneath this feudal world, Miyazaki’s Mononoke women gain footing amongst the quaking. The Lady Eboshi breaks new ground, literally; Toki and the other women of Irontown are freed from lives of slavery and sex trafficking to find home and community, to learn to defend themselves against the forces of greed in this violent man’s world.
Throughout this film, Miyazaki grapples with similar dualities: Ashitaka works both sides because it’s honorable for him to do so; San (a human girl raised by wolves) thinks humans are inherently bad for animals, but she comes to recognize the love between Ashitaka and his faithful steed Yakul; the Lady Eboshi fearlessly, impudently curses Nago and cuts off the Deer God’s head, but she also saves lepers because she is too modern-minded to believe in the long-standing stigmatic superstitions about their illness. Good and bad. Eyes unclouded.
And if we’re talking Mononoke/Miyazaki women, we can’t forget San. Her sucking blood from the wound on her wolf-mother’s neck, spitting it out, and then wiping the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand while she stares Ashitaka down, earrings glinting like arrows in the sun??? Coolest character introduction of all time. Coolest movie of all time. Best Miyazaki, bar none.
Note: This review originally appeared on my Letterboxd, here.