When the announcement of The Boy and the Heron being the opener for the 2023 Toronto International Film Festival dropped, everyone and their mother were losing their minds – and rightfully so. A decade after his supposed “final film”, acclaimed Japanese filmmaker Hayao Miyazaki returns with one of the most buzzed titles of the season and delivers one of his most emotionally delicate works to date. While not the absolute best from Miyazaki, The Boy and the Heron is a rousing cumulation of his 40-year career.

Loosely based on Genzaburo Yoshino’s novel How Do You Live? The Boy and the Heron follows Mahito Maki, a child coping with the loss of his mother to a fire in Tokyo circa World War II. In an attempt to start fresh, Mahito’s father, Shoichi, relocates them to his hometown and remarries his late wife’s sister, Netsuke. Reeling from everything around him physically and emotionally, Mahito encounters a unique heron and is taken on a journey unlike any other.

Rather than battling the internal struggle, Mahito turns that into a fight against external struggle. He is propelled into a mysterious world of fantasy and horror, in which Mahito is challenged to rescue his mother from her ultimate demise. The titular boy is ready to go on this fantastical life-or-death adventure rather than confronting the reality that awaits at home with his father and new stepmother.

An element of Miyazaki’s filmography that cannot be ignored is the filmmaking on display. As an advocate of keeping hand-drawn animation alive, the frames presented in The Boy and the Heron are some of the most breathtaking you’ll ever witness in animation. The detail shown in the grass the characters run through, the fur on all the creatures, and, of course, the insanely delicious-looking food is mind-boggling to take in. 

On top of the animation, the score from frequent collaborator Joe Hisaishi will cut deep into your soul-blending whim and haunting, unlike any composer to date. Hisaishi has composed every Miyazaki film, and it may come off as cliche to say that his score is masterful, but that statement feels earned. 

Shockingly, Miyazaki’s funniest content appears in The Boy and the Heron. He is no stranger to incorporating comedy in his films, yet this may take the cake for his most entertaining to date. The humor rests off the shoulders of a man inhabiting the heron’s body. What can come off as a nauseating gag acts as a breather from the emotionally draining storyline without feeling forced. Watching Mahito and the heron go back-and-forth, like bickering siblings, was delightful to witness. Never anticipated walking out of a Miyazaki film gushing about how hilarious it was, as it’s a rarity to acknowledge the humor.

While there is a lot to celebrate about The Boy and the Heron, the story itself keeps it from being a ‘masterpiece’ entry in Miyazaki’s catalog. The emotional crux hooks the audience member from the second the film starts, yet it can be overwhelming at times. A lot is unfolding throughout the 125-minute runtime, with the characters jumping around through time, frequent encounters with the titular heron, and storylines that add little purpose to the main crux of The Boy and the Heron. The density factor is also at a high compared to Miyazaki’s other films. It feels appreciated knowing that this doesn’t follow the same formula as his other work, yet the screenplay could’ve used polishing to help propel the story along in a more coherent fashion. 

Undoubtedly, The Boy and the Heron has a lot to adore, as it continues to showcase that Miyazaki still has it in him to pump out something strong at 82 years old. Even if it isn’t the next Spirited Away or Princess Mononoke, that is not to say that I didn’t admire the craft presented. Longtime fans of Miyazaki will be moved and roused by this fantastical coming-of-age journey and welcomed to know that we have a brand new outing in 2023 from one of the world’s most celebrated filmmakers. 

Review courtesy of Bryan Sudfield

Feature Image credit to Studio Ghibli via Digital Spy