Because I have greatly enjoyed the work of Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli (see Spirited Away (2001, and Academy Award winner in 2002), Howl’s Moving Castle (2004), and others), last night I watched his earlier work, My Neighbor Totoro (1988). It takes place in rural Japan in 1958. A father moves to an old house in the country with his two daughters (roughly 10 and 4 years old). Totoro is a spirit-creature living in the nearby forest. The portrayal of the two girls is witty, charming, and credible, at least to the eyes of a bachelor who has been able to befriend and observe the children of his friends. Look at the Wikipedia article or the plot line at imdb.com for more information about the movie, plot, critical reception, history, etc.
The movie successfully evokes a simplicity of time, place, and culture that contrasts sharply with late 20th to early 21st century America. But it can help us understand the assumptions and values of my parents’ and grandparents’ generations. Most people in the film don’t have cars, so they get around by foot or bicycle. Some of the roads are paved, but many are not. Not every house has a telephone. Kids ran around unsupervised. The music and graphics produce an atmosphere of peace and stability. The amenities of the house are minimal and rustic. The conveniences include a hand-pumped well just outside the house that needs priming from the stream down the hill. The walls have moving segments and shutters, the better to capture a breeze. The family spends a lot of time cleaning floors and pots and pans and clothes. A neighbor helps with the laundry. They all work hard at daily chores and think nothing of it.
Yes, the film idealizes this lifestyle by leaving out much of the dreariness, lack of opportunity, lack of medicine, and closed-mindedness that often accompanied it. But we technology-laden, globally-minded folk can profit from savoring this portrait of simplicity and asking what it can teach us. Do our techno-toys, our pace of life, and our grasping for more material wealth help us to be more human or do they erode peace and true community? Have our toys become our masters? Are we amusing ourselves to death, to borrow Neil Postman’s title? And, positively, we should evaluate our lives to find God’s kingdom, his glory, and his consequent Shalom.
