Holding Out for a Heroine
Kiki’s Delivery Service - Inkwell Illustrations
“Many of my movies have strong female leads- brave, self-sufficient girls that don’t think twice about fighting for what they believe with all their heart. They’ll need a friend, or a supporter, but never a savior. Any woman is just as capable of being a hero as any man.” - Hayao Miyazaki
There’s something very powerful about Studio Ghibli films. They are invasive, and leave you mesmerized and infected with wonder and intrigue. I remember the first time I watched a Studio Ghibli film, my mom brought home a VHS of Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989) from the library when I was eight years old. I remember it making me uncomfortable. I felt sad when she lost the ability to fly on her broom and when Jiji stopped being understood. In the end she saves the day, but I still felt like she didn’t get the happy ending I wanted her to have. I distinctly remember the day we brought it back to the library, somewhat happy to be getting rid of it, only for later to keep begging my mom to check it out again. I saw so much of myself in Kiki. I was so strongly attracted to her desire for adventure, but I also resonated with her insecurities and uncertainties. I had never seen a character like Kiki, and I didn’t realize how important it was that I had her.
"ONCE YOU'VE MET SOMEONE, YOU NEVER REALLY FORGET THEM." - ZENIBA
It wouldn’t be fair to say there aren't many examples of strong and interesting role models for women and girls in contemporary films, especially those aimed at children and young adults. Credit where credit is due, in the past decade or so, Disney has impressively stepped up their game in adding female characters of substance to their roster of beautiful princesses. Elsa didn’t even need to get married for Frozen (2013) to be the blockbuster and cultural success that it turned out to be.
But while Disney may be playing catch up, across the ocean, Studio Ghibli’s Hayao Miyazaki wasn’t just pushing the boundaries of what it meant to have female characters in films, he was demolishing gender stereotyping with innovative dynamite since the studio’s inception in 1985. The significance of Miyazaki writing complex and diverse female characters in his films, protagonists and antagonists alike, is that they are inclusive depictions of women and girls in media that are palpable and digestible among many cultures and age groups. Miyazaki’s characters explore aspects of childhood, failure, success, love and friendship that can relate and appeal to any girl and woman, being less about superficiality and more about profound, internalized motivations and reasoning. Compared to other western and contemporary mediums that depict women and girls in idealistic ways, or more polarized portrayals of “good” and “evil”, Miyazaki’s films allow women and girls to showcase all the emotions and every struggle. This vulnerability makes for characters that force girls and women to be self-reflective and lead the way for them to be the best versions of themselves.
The first time we come across San, the feral protagonist in Princess Mononoke (1997), one of Studio Ghibli’s most iconic films, we see her attempt to attack men, who ultimately injure one of the wolves she is riding with. She has a scowl and red warpaint on her face, and will stop at nothing to destroy humans, and though it may not seem intuitive, she is exactly the display of femininity needed.
“YOU FORGET SHE IS A GOD, IT’LL TAKE MORE THAN THAT” - LADY EBOSHI
When we think about feminist filmmaking and the art of depicting women on screen, the most popular examples that come to mind are superheroes and warriors. Characters like Wonder Woman or Xena, who save the world and can beat down any man that gets in their way. It’s enticing and validating seeing these women, offering such a striking contrast to typical female character tropes like the bland love interests that prevail in Hollywood. The main critique with these characters is that their idolization is based on stereotypes we as a society attribute to men. They are strong women because they act like men should act. Miyazaki doesn’t just write female characters who take down the patriarchy, his girls take on monsters, spirits and warlords, all while acting like...well, girls.
In Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984), the title princess, Nausicaä, is a bright, precocious teenager who is determined to save her kingdom and her people. She is adventurous and eager to learn and broaden her mind, and bring peace, which lies in stark juxtaposition to the post-apocalyptic wasteland she lives within. She exemplifies all the necessary attributes to be a true heroine. The stereotype of women being compassionate and pacifistic is explicitly used by Miyazaki to strengthen Nausicaä’s powers and abilities. It’s not her oppression that creates her telepathy, such as talking to animals, but her empathy. Sheeta, in Laputa: Castle in the Sky (1986), similarly exhibits traditionally expected female personality traits, such as being shy and reserved. Like Nausicaä, Sheeta’s kindness and humility throughout the film only adds to the messianic figure she is by the end. Miyazaki’s play on traditional gender roles, and his choice to give authority to characteristics seen as weak or belittling, are arguably some of the most feminist examples of storytelling in modern filmmaking.
“A HEART’S A HEAVY BURDEN” - SOPHIE HATTER
What’s especially refreshing among Studio Ghibli’s portrayal of female characters is its commitment to all its characters' personal developments. This commitment to imperfection, realism and subtlety, in a way that doesn’t take itself so seriously, offers all characters diverse emotional representation. There is a remarkable scene in Spirited Away (2001) where Chihiro (now called Sen), is sitting on her bedroom’s balcony, takes a bite of a dumpling Lin gives her after a rough day, and begins to cry the largest, most perfectly animated tears. The scene forces the audience to watch the intensity of Chihiro losing her parents, her name, and her freedom over the previous days and witness it all drain from her body. This is truly how it feels to be a woman, and I can, with every cell in my body, relate to this little girl crying into food. It is cathartic and it is devastating, but it shows Chihiro’s fragility not as a weakness, but as a form of self-control. And that is what Miyazaki is doing, redefining words like strength and power, to include the ability to change and adapt to the environment that these women and girls are placed in, often against their will. None of Ghibli’s characters are perfect, in fact, they are consistently flawed. Despite their vices, female characters still deserve success as they are willing to evolve and embrace the difficult journeys that add dimensions to their personalities and capabilities.
Even villains are included in Miyazaki's obsession with character reform. “Evilness” is forcibly subjective and often warranted some explanation in the form of a backstory or past traumas being brought to light. Lady Eboshi, from Princess Mononoke, is not really much of a villain, though she is arguably the main antagonist. She does not take kindly to authority but will sacrifice herself for what she believes is right. Yubaba, in Spirited Away, ends up showing care towards Chihiro, and setting her free at the end of the movie, even though she had established herself as impartial to cheating others.
One of the best written antagonists has to be Nausicaä’s Princess Kushana. Kushana, like Nausicäa, is a princess, responsible for the care and protection of her people. The main difference is that Kushana comes from a society far more oppressive towards women. She is highly critical of men, but more importantly, is desperate for them to respect her. At one point in the film, Kushana is left for dead and the Tolmekian troops she leads appear indifferent and uncaring. It is also implied that her mother was driven to insanity because she was poisoned for being a woman. Kushana’s backstory and her society’s attitude that she has forever known and been impacted by, has forced her to suppress her femininity. The unique take on female expression and identity, and the idea that concealing it is negative and impairing, is inspiring, and supports the notion that Miyazaki fearlessly redefines and reclaims gender roles to empower his female characters.
“WITHOUT EVEN THINKING ABOUT IT, I USED TO BE ABLE TO FLY. NOW I'M TRYING TO LOOK INSIDE MYSELF TO FIND OUT HOW I DID IT.” - KIKI
It’s difficult to convince an audience that failure is a positive experience among female characters, and potentially even more complicated when those experiences are taken on while very young. One of Studio Ghibli’s earliest films, Kiki’s Delivery Service, deals with the transition from childhood to adulthood in its main character Kiki. At the beginning of the film, she is able to talk with her cat Jiji, fly on her broomstick without trouble, all with friendliness and confidence. Towards the end of the film, she has lost the ability to speak with Jiji and has lost her ability to fly. She no longer exhibits youthful ignorance but must focus and take control of herself. Ultimately, she relearns how to fly, but is no longer capable of talking with Jiji. Miyazaki eloquently showcases the growing pains of becoming an adult. He does not brush off the loss of innocence in his characters with lazy positivity and good vibes but enhances it with isolation and vulnerability while also offering the lesson that adulthood without imagination is just as isolating. This authentic representation of girls growing up proves Miyazaki’s trust and respect for his audience's ability to rationalize and justify complex and uncomfortable patterns in his female leads.
This respect extends to the female characters themselves and is highlighted in Miyazaki’s willingness to maintain this authenticity in his female characters. These characters are both recognized and honored for what they do possess but are also forgiven and empowered by what they do not. That is what Kiki showed me, that we are all flawed individuals, who act emotionally and irrationally when under pressure or distress. Girls like San, Chihiro and Kushana demonstrate we can’t always rely on saviors (especially men) to rescue us from our strife. Studio Ghibli’s female characters are sometimes involved in devastating and outlandish circumstances, and sometimes, they are just trying to get by, but the agency Miyazaki bestows upon them ensures that their successes and achievements are based primarily on their own merit. And that agency is transposed onto the audience. I don’t begin every film liking all the female leads, but I do always end up seeing myself in every story.
It’s been a few years since we’ve had a full length feature from the studio, but with their much deserved break, I can only hope that other film studios are taking it upon themselves to build on the immaculate feminist groundwork Studio Ghibli has paved for nearly forty years.
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