“Princess Mononoke” & Hayao Miyazaki's Vision

As per the usual, please try to watch “Princess Mononoke” as it is a great film, even without reading what is said here, and if you like Miyazaki’s other films, then you’ll love this too!

It could be said that contemporary environmentalism is in somewhat of a state of disarray, with many differing ideas all vying to overpower each other on the path to making the environment priority number one in the age of modern, tech-driven human affairs. As with most issues in contemporary politics, this is yet another philosophy that has become, ever more increasingly, a part of a fundamental dichotomy between ideologies, with humankind on one end and the environment, and nature in general, on the other. However, there is one anime film that presents a very intriguing and interesting perspective on not only environmentalism, but humankind’s relationship with nature in general.

In a particularly notable piece of his stunning filmography in anime, Hayao Miyazaki all but destroys the much perpetuated maxim of “man versus nature” and instead presents us with his vision of liberating coexistence between man and its spiritual connections in nature. There is perhaps no better film that so perfectly sums up Miyazaki’s spiritual beliefs than his own “Princess Mononoke,” wherein the entire premise that the human and natural worlds are different, and ultimately incompatible with one another, is challenged.

In order for one to understand the themes of “Princess Mononoke” and Miyazaki’s vision, it is important to take a look at the legendary animator’s spiritual beliefs, specifically at his unique take on the ancient idea of animism.

Animism, put simply, is the belief in a kind of spiritual connection that pervades all of nature (“Animism”). It is easy to think of this pervasive spiritual connection as the real-life version of “the Force.” This is the metaphysical view prescribed to by many Indigenous peoples around the world for thousands of years, and this view is seen in the main Japanese religion of Shintō, of which a recorded eighty percent of Japanese follow (“Animism”)(“Shintō”). In Shintō, the objects of worship, kami, are various connected spirits, essences, and parts of nature (“Shintō”). So, it should be of no surprise that Miyazaki holds this same spiritual and metaphysical belief, but he has an interesting twist on the age old idea. Almost inherently, many versions of animism assume that a dichotomy exists between humanity and nature, where nature is meant to be feared or regarded with a reverence due to its power or purity. Essentially, it is taken as a given that humanity and nature cannot, nor ever will, coexist.

Instead of this seemingly inherent dichotomy, Miyazaki believes that humans are intimately included in the spiritual connection that pervades all of nature or, in another way, that people are part of nature and not inherently separate from it. In his, let’s be honest, pretty amazing outlook, everything reflects and displays the same traits, personalities, and emotions that humans posses because those things were simply part of nature to begin with and not solely, or totally, a product of human creation (“Hayao Miyazaki - The Essence of Humanity”).

That is Miyazaki’s animism: a spiritual connection that pervades all of nature, all the while including humanity in that metaphysical connection, wherein everything and everyone shares the same basic things and no distinctions exist between the perceived “human” and “natural” worlds.

With Miyazaki’s spiritual beliefs sorted out, in the form of a unique view on animism, one can now gaze upon the themes of “Princess Mononoke” with “eyes unclouded” (“Princess Mononoke (1997 film)”).

As noted by many of the film’s audience, “Princess Mononoke” presents a very morally “gray” set of characters, whether they are forest gods or simple ironworkers. There is Lady Eboshi with her goal of killing the Forest Spirit being firmly, but elegantly, contrasted with her subjects in Irontown, many of whom she personally saved from the societal shame and ridicule of being lepers or prostitutes. There are the boars that seek to wipe the “stain” of humanity from their forest in vengeance and hate. And then there is Ashitaka and San, personifications of the two perceived worlds of nature and humanity, each with their own selfish or idealistic goals. In each case, these characters are not actually part of a dichotomy of “good versus bad” because they exhibit portions of each. Each one of these characters can be seen as both “bad” and “good,” in places, at the same time without contradicting themselves or there ideas. It’s the classic “war” movie trope of making the “bad” guys good and the “good” guys bad, and it presents one with a situation where everything and everyone if fundamentally tied in their moral “grayness.” This “graying” of ideas, methods, and sides is what many people love about this film, but I think Miyazaki wished to set himself apart from their beloved trope by incorporating a fundamental piece of his version of animism into his film (“The Studio Ghibli Retrospective: ‘Princess Mononoke’”).

In regarding each and every character as being “gray” and fundamentally similar, Miyazaki is able to make us both empathize with the characters and realize that this film is an unflinching view of reality. He does this by first, messing with the audience’s expectations and preconceived notions, and by second, slowly revealing that everything is the opposite of what they expect. The audience expects the people and monarch of Irontown to be bloodthirsty, militant, and full of hatred because they are human, but they are instead treated to both a group of happy, content, and hardworking people with dreams and goals and to numerous forest animals and gods that exhibit, if not embody, those same expected traits of hate and savagery. For Miyazaki, this is the essence of animism: a world where perceived “human” emotions and traits, such as hate and savagery, exist within everything and everyone. The “problems” of humanity are not seen as something to be repressed, ignored, or lamented precisely because those very same “problems” exist everywhere and within everything. Essentially, why would one lament a flaw that literally everything else possesses? This is Miyazaki’s unflinching view of reality, a world in which there are no perceived “cookie-cutter” dichotomies or binaries. The reality is that humanity is, indeed, an inherent part of nature itself, and that there exists no distinction between the “natural” and “human” worlds (“Hayao Miyazaki - The Essence of Humanity”). There is simply no way to fully separate reality into the two perceived worlds. In the most basic sense, it can be said that “we are all in this together.”

In knowing that Miyazaki’s spiritual beliefs and view on reality pervade the film, “Princess Mononoke’s” story, characters, and themes can now begin to be viewed as a look into Miyazaki both as a human being and as a look into his vision for the future.

With that being said, it is prudent to take a quick look at another one of his films, one with very similar themes but a wholly different message: “My Neighbor Totoro.” To quote Miyazaki, both “Princess Mononoke” and “My Neighbor Totoro” were created using “the exact same approach … which is that there is an invisible world that is surely as real as the world we can see with our eyes, and that we cannot live ignoring the invisible world." That seemingly “invisible” world is the deep spiritual connection that pervades all of humanity and nature seen in his animism. While they both share this theme of “showing” the animistic connection between all of nature and humanity, “Princess Mononoke” goes one step further by exploring what may happen when that connection remains invisible. In stark contrast to “My Neighbor Totoro’s” innocent and tear-jerking messages, “Princess Mononoke” seems to serve as a warning (“Princess Mononoke”).

In “Princess Mononoke’s” climax, the decapitated, lingering essence of the Forest Spirit is seen to consume all life and land in its path, wherein everything and everyone it touches dies or is destroyed. The Forest Spirit’s consuming rampage can be seen as a result of both sides, both human and nature, simply feeding into the idea that they fundamentally cannot coexist. The two sides are seen to battle on numerous occasions and display unparalleled levels of hatred and savagery in their fighting. They want to destroy one another because they think they can’t coexist, which is in direct contrast to what Miyazaki’s animism believes.

In direct contrast, one can see the literal personification of Miyazaki’s animistic connection in San and Ashitaka’s relationship. From their first meeting, it can be said that they “fall in love” with each other, wherein they simply find companionship in one another. Ashitaka sees San as the personification of the forest, with all its beauty and mystery, while San sees humanity’s loving and compassionate side in Ashitaka. Throughout the film, the characters around them are constantly pressuring them, albeit individually, to give up their companionship and love for each other because of the simple fact that what their personifying in each other’s eyes cannot exist, together, in the same world, with their personification being nature and humanity respectively for San and Ashitaka. This is that animistic connection being relegated to an ignored, “invisible” world in dialogue form. While they do split up for what is the decisive battle between humanity and the forest, they end up coming back together in the end to “right” what had been “wronged;” that is to return the head of the Forest Spirit.

In returning the Forest Spirit’s head together, it can be said that the once “invisible” world of spiritual connection between humanity and nature becomes fully, almost heartbreakingly, visible and real. With that, the Forest Spirit’s rampage can be seen as the destructive tendencies of both “worlds,” nature and human, when their intrinsic spiritual connection is ignored and forgotten. Only by working together, reforming that shattered, ignored, and lamented spiritual connection, can the reality of “Princess Mononoke” stop itself from being destroyed, quite literally, by itself. By working together, the forest, the characters, and reality itself can rebuild both themselves and their innate connection to one another, as seen in the forest’s renewal and Lady Eboshi’s proclamation to rebuild Irontown in a different way.

Ultimately, this somber warning on the consequences of ignoring the spiritual connection that unites nature and humanity turns into a message on the benefits and innate need for coexistence. In the end, humanity needs to be able to develop and progress as a species, but not at the cost of its spiritual connection to nature, and reality itself (“The Studio Ghibli Retrospective: ‘Princess Mononoke’”). One can see this in the amazingly poignant scene where San and Ashitaka interact for the last time on screen. This scene is best summed up by the late Roger Ebert himself:

If they had simply stayed together and become “one,” then Miyazaki’s entire message of coexistence would have fallen flat (“The Studio Ghibli Retrospective: ‘Princess Mononoke’”). Instead of one becoming the other, with either San being human or Ashitaka being a forest dweller, they resolve to simply go their separate ways but still maintain their deep connection to each other. That is Miyazaki’s vision for the future of reality, a world where humanity and nature acknowledge and accept each others’ spiritual connection with one another, and, in doing this, a world of coexistence where both of their individual identities remain but without contradicting one another. Essentially, he wishes for a world where humanity and nature can “do their own” things without the need, want, or desire to forget, ignore, or lament aspects or the whole part of the other. In spite of both some of the film’s characters and modern society in general, the humanist that is Miyazaki intimately and truly believes that humanity and nature can coexist in a spiritually connected reality once they acknowledge and accept one another. If not, as Miyazaki’s curmudgeonly, eternally pessimistic exterior believes, then reality is doomed to consume itself in a metaphorical sense, thereby creating a reality where only the destroyed hulks of once grand and loving spirits, forests, gods, and humans existed.

In the end, Miyazaki’s vision was to power past simple and petty contemporary environmentalism, and all the themes his films are labeled with in general, and create an anime film that gives people a deeply human look into his beliefs, values, and visions and their affect on reality. In doing this, he is able to look past carbon taxes and tariffs and to a humanity that is on the verge of destroying itself and its few remaining connections with nature, one that is doomed to live an empty, shallow, and painfully long existence.

As a deeply spiritual and humanistic man, Miyazaki really wants this eventuality to never come. He wants humanity to be liberated of its tendencies towards the ignorance of nature, and he wants humanity to be happy, healthy, and well again both spiritually and physically (“Hayao Miyazaki”). Ultimately, Miyazaki simply wants humanity to realize that we can coexist with nature while still being humanity, and that the very act of that realization is both liberating and essential in order for reality to exist. That is Miyazaki’s vision, and all of it conveyed in the two hour fourteen minute anime and film masterpiece that is “Princess Mononoke.”

Now for a real talk, after doing a couple of these Miyazaki thematic analyses, I can honestly say that I have never seen another filmmaker, in anime or otherwise, that has been able to put such themes on film and in such an entertaining and whimsical way. There truly is no one else like Miyazaki; he is an amazing anomaly in film history that I hope we, as film lovers, never, ever forget. I also figured out that I didn’t actually understand humanism until I watched and analyzed his films. He may dismiss the “humanist” label, but I personally think he is even above Albert Einstein, Carl Sagan, and Bertrand Russell on the hierarchy of humanism. I seriously think he is the greatest humanist in the history of humanity also one of the last of his “kind.” And I’m not going to lie, I cried a little bit writing while this paragraph because one day humanists like Miyazaki may cease to exist, and that is a heartbreaking and soul-crushing thought.

With that, I will leave you, my dear, intrepid reader, with a quote from a filmmaker and film analyst that I respect and admire: