The Wind Rises

Review of: The Wind Rises
Directed by:
Hayao Miyazaki

Reviewed by:
Rating:
5
On August 6, 2013
Last modified:January 2, 2016

Summary:

"Anyone who is familiar with Miyazaki’s work knows the expertise with which he communicates visually; not only does The Wind Rises boast spectacular, sweeping scenery, it also provides the stage for imperceptible details to shine in full artistic prominence."

Written by: Lena Yang

The stroke of a pencil; the splash of a paintbrush. A master animator, ingenious storyteller—born to entertain, live to inspire.

From the belly of a moving castle on mechanical legs, to the commencement of a delightful young witch’s budding delivery service, one individual’s illustrious career spanning over 50 years has contributed greatly to the animation industry through a bundle of intricate tales and striking artistry.

Since his directorial debut in 1979, famed Japanese animator, Hayao Miyazaki, has captivated audiences with his talent and passion. At age 73, he is ready to bow out of the spotlight. With his retirement comes his farewell masterpiece: The Wind Rises.

Diverging from the childish atmosphere of his most recent cinematic endeavour in PonyoThe Wind Risesis, perhaps, Miyazaki’s most mature work to date. The film is a fictionalized account of Jiro Horikoshi’s career, an aeronautical engineer whose design of the Japanese fighter plane used in the attack on Pearl Harbor, the Mitsubishi A6M Zero fighter, propelled him to fame. Many have questioned and continue to question Miyazaki’s decision to recognize an individual whose career ultimately culminated in a creation that was used to kill thousands. However, it is not unknown that Miyazaki is anti-war, which, incontrovertibly, presents the obstacle of creating a progressive biopic that does not glorify violence and corruption. A monumental task indeed, but with diplomatic grace and a steady hand, Miyazaki brings to life a gorgeous tale of fantastical dreams, subtle tragedy, and the dreadful exploitation of beauty.

Anyone who is familiar with Miyazaki’s work knows the expertise with which he communicates visually; not only does The Wind Rises boast spectacular, sweeping scenery, it also provides the stage for imperceptible details to shine in full artistic prominence. From sunlight glinting off the wing of an airplane, to the shadows swaying lightly in a shaded alleyway, every facet of Miyazaki’s animated world is accentuated with an elegance that showcases his ability to recreate natural authenticity in a two-dimensional animated feature. Many scenes—and these, I believe, are the pinnacle of artistic accomplishment in the film—are situated in surreal, painterly landscapes that instigate a fantastical impression of oil paintings brought to life. The understated aesthetic elements of The Wind Rises help to infuse a romantic, dreamlike undertone which contrasts quite nicely with the more jarring imagery in the film.

Praise is also highly deserved for the clever incorporation of wind throughout the movie. It is the sole element that binds and propels the story: it allows for Jiro’s creations to soar, and it initiates repeat meetings between Jiro and his wife, Nahoko Satomi. Wind is present in the bustling leaves, and the traveling clouds. It is also responsible for the flight of Jiro’s delicate paper airplanes. The story has been carefully laid out, and it is up to the wind to peel back the layers.

Unlike Miyazaki’s previous works, The Wind Rises isn’t delivered with a lavish, fantasy storyline, and it doesn’t need to be. Apart from several dream sequences, the film is very much rooted in reality. Miyazaki credits his inspiration for the film to Jiro’s quote, “All I wanted to do was to make something beautiful”.  The Wind Rises is a wonderful reflection of his simple yearning to satisfy his airborne visions. His seemingly insatiable chase for innovation faces inevitable repercussions, though, which culminates in a rather poignant conclusion that drives home the tragedy of the violence-prone associates attached to Jiro’s cherished creations. In the final scene of the movie, he says with appropriate melancholy, “Not a single one of them returned”. The line impresses in the audience the true irony of beautiful things fated for malevolent exploitation.

With the conclusion of the movie comes a bittersweet farewell to one of the greatest directors to grace the entertainment world. It is both a blessing and a curse, I suppose, to enjoy a lifetime of Miyazaki’s handcrafted treasures, but also to bid adieu to one of my biggest inspirations. Regardless of the true finality of his retirement (this is, apparently, his sixth attempt at retiring), his career is surely one deserving of admiration. The winds of his final film will certainly continue to propel his career to greater heights.