KONSHUU | Volume 55, Issue 8
"AESTHETIC" TONY T.
Managing Editor
2nd Year, Economics and Data Science
While I don’t exactly remember, I’d wager that the first anime I ever saw was probably Castle in the Sky. Ghibli works in general are somewhat difficult for me to discuss, partially due how the animation studio seems to receive zealous praise almost ubiquitously. Much of the admiration for Studio Ghibli, at least in the west, typically comes from established media sources that have extremely rigid understandings of cinema, resulting in praise that is as repetitive as it is abundant. My fear of being associated with the trend of generic pleasantries has thus made me apprehensive about discussing Ghibli prior to this article. Beyond that, the conflation of “Studio Ghibli” with the name “Miyazaki Hayao” is also rather irksome. As a whole, traditional Hollywood praise of Ghibli works generally spout vague positive qualities of these films as somehow surpassing limitations of their medium without much understanding as to why Japanese animation is so captivating. One has to wonder how many, if any, other anime films western critics have seen before giving their thoughts on Ghibli films.
However, I can’t exactly refute the critical acclaim. Castle in the Sky, in particular, is a film which I have revisited on numerous occasions and still find to be one of my favorites in its simplistic charm and somewhat innocent optimism. There aren’t many pieces of Castle in the Sky that I find groundbreaking, but its whole is far greater than the sum of its parts. Certain sequences in the film are simply
so ingrained in my understanding of animation (and frankly, narrative media) that fully dissecting my outlook would be akin to performing a complete psychological evaluation of myself. Unfortunately, I neither have a background in psychology, nor have an ego so inflated that I would think that completely examining my personality is that entertaining. One portion that particularly stands out in a way I can verbalize, though, is the scene upon reaching the titular Castle in the Sky. Following a sequence of dizzying confusion for the audience and characters alike, the simple panning shots of a clearly high-tech fortress covered by nature evokes simultaneous feelings of joy and melancholy. The liminality of the space, a place once likely sprawling with individuals and technology, yet now featuring only nature and a singular remaining robotic guardian, creates an almost intoxicating atmosphere. The protagonists’ actions mirror this emotional duality. They first break out in laughter while running around, joyfully celebrating their success in finding Laputa, yet this is slowly supplanted by more thoughtful contemplation of why such a futuristic civilization fell into ruin to begin with. Castle in the Sky is a film that I enjoy for numerous reasons, but I think the film’s aesthetic components – its art, animation, and music (particularly the music) – are the primary key to its lasting presence in my subconscious. The film’s mise en scène in its depiction of Laputa perfectly concludes its characters’ quest to find it. Their journey is made all the more meaningful because Laputa is so vibrantly luscious with nature yet desolate with mere remnants of human influence. If one considers certain stories to be the ‘core embodiment’ of a concept, such as the Biblical clash of David and Goliath forever typifying underdogs, then Castle in the Sky encapsulates adventure for me.
