After I read a number of reviews put about
by critics on the internet, there seems to be a consensus that this film is a
solid improvement on the director’s first piece, Tales From Earthsea but is still a long way from the dizzying
heights that his father, Miyazaki Hayao has set the bar of animation in Japan. Perhaps
the comparison is unavoidable; but I feel like there’s a lot to From Up On Poppy Hill, both within it’s
intrinsic themes as well as the very nature of the film’s production.
The
film is set in the rarely visited world of Japan
prior to the Olympic games, in the year 1963. The narrative centers around two
high school students, Umi and Shun, who inevitable fall in love. Both are
strong, independent characters that are presented as ideal role models for both
the friends and family that surround them as well as the audience itself. They
meet and fall for one another through the shared attempt in restoring an old
clubhouse attached to the local academy, a building that would have invariably
been torn down due to the ‘clean up Japan initiative’. The challenges that they
face they do so together, which is fortunate, as right from the start it would
appear that each has a phenomenal amount of pressure resting on them, both
personally and socially.
A
running theme through this film is that the character’s attitudes are remarkably
anti-adult; it is the mistakes of those that came before that the children must
make amends for. From Up On Poppy Hill
is not alone is making this statement; there is a whole wealth of Japanese film
that centers directly on this subject. Other notable anime would include Neon Genesis Evangelion and Serial Experiment Lain, with live
actions films including Battle Royal.
Each of these pieces placing the youth up on a pedestal to fight back against
the previous generations that have done them wrong or simply cast them aside.
In From Up On Poppy Hill’s case it is the
lack of support and general apathy of the majority of adults that surround Umi
and Shun that motivates them. Umi’s mother is away and has seemingly left
the lion’s share of the responsibilities with her daughter. Her father was
killed during the Korean War and so Umi is left with a full house of relatives
to look after. Her strong desire to have a male presence in her life drives her
actions. Each morning she raises a flag outside her house to signal safe
passage home for the parent she lost at sea. It is this yearning that leads her
to Shun. Shun is the apparent son of a tug-boat captain and has taken it upon
himself to lead the uprising against the demolition of the club house. It is
Shun’s physical appearance as well as his leadership qualities that first
attract Umi. The similarities that connect Shun to Umi’s father are not overly
played upon but they are notable. The matter is further complicated when Shun
discovers that they may in fact share the same father and be related by blood.
An incest theme is never one I thought I’d encounter in a Ghibli film. Other directors within the company have tackled some serious and/or realistic issues before, but never this shocking. Ocean Waves told the fairly ordinary story of two teenagers that fall in love in Shikoku and Grave of the Fireflies dealt with the lives of two children as they struggle to survive in Japan during World War 2 but this is something else. When they first discover their possible parentage connection Shun attempts to withdraw all emotion from their relationship; an act that appears to be too difficult for Umi who declares that she does not care about their blood relation and will love him forever. They decide that they can not be together and the blame is directed at the adults once more. Of course the fairy tale ending is upheld and it is made clear that they are not siblings. While I personally believe it would have made the whole film a lot more daring than the average if they were in fact brother and sister, it was certainly brave of the director to even broach the subject in such a piece in the first place.
The clubhouse
itself is another catalyst to the whole affair and it’s incredibly easy to
become completely enamored with it and its consistency throughout the entirety
of the film right from the start. The attention to detail from the smallest of
trash that festoons the highest reaches of the ceiling to the filth ridden
corners where anything could live, gives the viewer a real chance to ‘smell the
earth’ of the location. The passion shown by the students that study there
compliment the visual aspects of the building perfectly. During the film there
is a heated debate held by a student committee where two sides argue for and
against the destruction of the clubhouse. Those that wish for it to remain
state that the past should not be so easily forgotten and the heritage of Japan
should be preserved within its walls. Those that are against keeping it
standing argue that it is an old and tired building and should be removed to
make way for the new. It is clear that this is an obvious metaphor for the
whole nation of Japan at that time especially during the clean up initiative. The
students that lead the charge to renovate the clubhouse, namely the two main
characters, are powerfully driven and their characters contain qualities reminiscent
of period dramas. Giri (duty) and ninjo (humanity) are behind their personalities and the message it gives is clear; Japan is
a country with a rich and wonderful culture and the good cannot be wiped clean
so easily.
One may believe
that many of the characters in From Up
On Poppy Hill were not fully realized and a lot of potential content was
wasted as a result, although perhaps this was Miyazaki Goro’s intent. All of
the supporting characters are very much black and white. They all fit
stereotypical roles without much imagination. There’s a book smart friend of
Shun’s that helps guide his actions, a distant father who offers minimal advice
and Umi’s household is filled with a wise grandmother, self involved children
and even a withdrawn artist. While it is true that these characters could have
been fleshed out and given another dimension this was not their purpose. They
simply act as tools to aid the development of Umi and Shun and provide the
cushioning they require to let the emotion of their lives become apparent,
something I think Goro does extremely well. Despite not being loved by all, Tales of Earthsea has at least one fan
in me, and I believe the raw emotions that he was able to transcend within that
story are much the same within this one.
Miyazaki Goro is
a director with a lot of potential. I personally have enjoyed both of his films
and will continue to do so. The only flaw that I would like to mention is that
his attempts to emulate his father’s films are too obvious and sometimes a
little clumsy. There were many stylistic techniques within From Up On Poppy Hill that almost seemed like vague references to
his father’s work, as if he were trying to create a pastiche rather than something
purely independent. He’s an exciting director and although I’d like to judge
his films without bringing into question his relationship with his own father,
I fear that it cannot be helped.


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