So! Sorry about the super super late post.
Last week we talked about kind of the idyllic, nostalgic feel of Totoro. How he seems to capture the elements of childhood, fantasy, kindness, and imagination so well, and how he uses the overlay between fantasy and reality to delight and disarm us.
So I want to ask, what is your personal connection to the movie Totoro? It can be
1) insight
2) experience from your past
3) things that make it seem mostalgic
4) Miyazaki's message
5) particular parts that hit you
6) etc...
whatever.
Post away!
26 comments:
My Neighbor Totoro is a celebration of childhood simplicity, something that I long forgotten. Instead of complicate plots and intricate characters that forces the audience to follow a predetermine path, My Neighbor Totoro remains simple, giving the audience time to think and appreciate every moment of the film. Its slow pace allows the audience’s mind to wonder away from the movie and into their own memories of their own childhood. The experience of My Neighbor Totoro is a dry experience, yet it is the audience contribution through their own memories that makes My Neighbor Totoro an enriching experience.
The beauty of My Neighbor Totoro is that is allows the audience to relate to their own childhood, and for the hour-and-a-half, the adults in the audience can experience a “second childhood.” If My Neighbor Totoro is shown to a young kid, the kid would relate to his or her experience at the current moment. Yet, if this film is shown to an adult, the adult recollects his or her own childhood. But factor of the film allows the adult to remember their own childhood? My Neighbor Totoro really has three main characters that the audience is force to relate, the two sisters and the annoying boy. The other characters, the father and the old woman, are supposed to be viewed through the perspectives of the younger characters. The audience, whether old or young, has to relate to the younger characters. However, for an adult to relate to a younger character, the adult has to remember his own childhood.
The deliberate slow pace and the force perspectives through the eyes of younger characters allow Miyazaki to capture the forgotten childhood beautifully in My Neighbor Totoro.
-Michael Iseri
I have trouble defining Totoro as a movie that exemplifies the power of the imagination. It is ambiguous as to whether the fantastical things the children see are real or imagined. Thus, to me, the movie is a celebration of the wonder of life, of being awestruck by it all---awestruck by it's possibilities, it's scenery, the breadth of experience and emotion it brings, everything! And for most of us, nothing better illustrates this wonder than childhood. This being the case, the movie causes a nostalgia of childhood to linger over you and at the same time makes you question whether the way you view life at present is the way you ought to view life. This is what makes Totoro great.
Totoro is the kind of movie that you grow up with, like The Lion King or Beauty and the Beast. Sadly, I watched it for the first time in my senior year of high school, so it doesn't carry the nostalgia for me that it does for many viewers, except perhaps that high school reminds me of a simpler and more carefree time. Nevertheless, my first viewing of Totoro didn't strike me as any less innocent and appealing as it probably did for most people on their first viewing, and watching the first half of it last week, I found that a lot of it was instantly familiar and more seamless in its transitions than I had remembered.
I think everyone can relate to Mei in that we all have someone that we look up to and want to emulate when we're growing up, even if that's not an older sibling. When that person whom we focus so much of our attention on isn't around, we are left to our own devices and must occupy ourselves with something else that captures our imagination and compels us to explore this discovery. In doing so, we often discover more about ourselves than the person or thing that aroused our curiosity in the first place. For Mei, discovering Totoro taught her that she was more than just a shadow of her sister, because in finding this "keeper of the forest," she had done something completely on her own. What's more, Totoro chooses not to reveal itself to Satsuki or her father until an opportune moment in which Mei is asleep and only Satsuki can see Totoro.
Of course, Mei has not become completely independent of her sister just by finding Totoro, as she has Nanny take her to Satsuki while her sister is at school. But I think one of Miyazaki's messages here is to find a balance between growing up and making the most of one's childhood. When you grow up, that innocence and purity disappears, so it is desirable to retain one's childhood as long as possible, but at the same time, we must always be growing and learning from our experiences so that we don't remain oblivious to the world forever. With Totoro, Miyazaki emphasizes the importance of finding a balance between these two stages of life for children.
Honestly, I didn't grow up watching Totoro. Rather, I saw it when I was just starting to be a teenager. At first, it pretty much creeped me out because I was always afraid that Totoro was going to eat Mai (when I was twelve, my littlest sister was just born, so maybe I was identifying that way).
Really, it was the tree growing scene that won me over--I feel like it's one of the most magical and inspiring scenes in the movie. Also, the cat-bus (while it was still intimidating), seemed to soften the creepiness (albeit it has sooo many legs that it reminded me of a centipede).
Moreover, the heartwarming parts--like their parents laughing and talking in the hospital--brought the reality of the situation into focus in a way that it balanced out the fantastical elements to create a believable story. By the end,--and really after watching it a couple more times--I became much more fond of the huge and wild Totoro (his grin threw me off for a while).
Now, when I watch it, I have a totally different experience of Totoro, and I find the ideas of Totoro as 'imaginary' to be realistic. Nevertheless, it's more fun and enjoyable to me to think of him as real, and as invisible to adults.
I have no recollection of this, but according to my parents, I would demand that they rent My Neighbor Totoro from the library every week when I was in preschool, so I could watch it over and over. I would also write letters to the Totoros that lived in a tree in our backyard.
This movie was a huge part of my childhood, and even though I didn't discover Miyazaki's other films until I was much older, I came to love them all as well, although perhaps none to quite the extent of Totoro (although Spirited Away is also one of my favorite movies).
Watching My Neighbor Totoro usually leaves me feeling very happy, but this particular viewing was different, leaving me feeling nostalgic, but in a painful way--knowing that my own magical childhood is irrevocably behind me, alive in memory but impossible to ever recapture.
Part of the reason for this sadness may have been due to the short film (La Maison des Petits Cubes)that we watched before beginning the second half of Totoro. Maison was an incredibly moving metaphor about growing up, growing old, and dying. In conjunction with the carefree childhood innocence of Totoro, the movie produced a huge emotional effect for me.
My Neighbor Totoro is a movie that leaves me feeling really happy after I've watched it. However, not because it reminds me of childhood experiences. Totoro is much too ideal. To me, it represents a fantasy world so that whenever I watch it, it's almost as if I am getting sucked into another world. Sometimes, college can be hectic since I am constantly being bombarded with homework, exams, and other responsibilities. Yet, watching Totoro gives me a calming feeling, a break from reality.
I think that often, kids are pushed to grow up faster or to be more responsible. So I think that Miyazaki's message is something along the lines of "let kids be kids". This is probably the reason why the adults in the movie don't discourage the kids in believing in Totoro. Furthermore, even though the adults can't see him, he has a physical presence which is wind. Hence, he is timeless and ageless because everybody, whether it is an adult or child, has seen or felt his presence. Ultimately, Totoro is that innocence and happiness within everyone.
A large part of my relatability to Mei and Satsuki comes from the simple fact that they are young and out discovering the world. When you're a child their age (especially true for someone as young as Mei, I think), most experiences are new and potentially exciting. So, even if my childhood was very different from the girls', I can still watch them and feel nostalgic about a time when even a trip to the supermarket felt like an adventure.
In this sense, I could also relate to Totoro, fantastical creature-spirit that he is, because he is also experiencing new things in the world--like raindrops falling on an umbrella.
The saturation of wondrous new experiences and discoveries in the movie could very easily have felt shallow and idealized if Miyazaki only showed how much fun Mei and Satsuki were having. However, the events following Kanta's delivery of the telegram and the changes that we see in the girls show that not all experiences are positive. For the first time, we see them angry, worried, fearful, frantic. It happens that the intense worry for a parent's health is something that I had also experienced when I was fairly young, too, so this is something that I could relate to directly. But even if I couldn't, I think my heart would still go out to them when they discover that the world might not be what they want it to be.
As like others in the class, I didn't watch Totoro until I was a teenager. However, unlike many others, I find this movie always makes me sad. Yes the characters are cute, but everything is still left unresolved. Miyazaki stayed away from the expected "happy ending" for the movie- which would have ended with the mother coming home cured and the girls living happily ever after. Having lost my mother, I was the one the family left to take on the major household and emotional responsibilities. I connect so deeply with Satsuki and what she was going through in the movie. I know that awful sense that something just isn't right and the
panic that arises form the words of a doctor. Throughout the whole movie, I find myself getting more and more angry with Mei as she continues to put more stress on Satsuki as they are both trying to deal with a uncertain future. I also know that no matter what I went through, I would do anything for my family; as Satsuki does as she desperately searches for the lost Mei.
Also, being in a family of 5 girls (I'm the 4th oldest), I have experienced being the younger and older sister. I did and still admire everyone of my sisters enough to mimic and follow in their footsteps. This movie can be nostalgic for anyone, because everyone was a kid at some point. No matter the place, time, or circumstances Miyazaki could have picked, everyone could feel a connection to being a kid. Memories of times when imaginations were truly used for entertaining ourselves are some of the things I miss the most.
Even though it may not be the happiest of memories and feelings, My Neighbor Totoro does evoke things from my past (nostalgia?)
I didn't grow up watching Totoro either. In fact, the first time I say it was last summer! I instantly fell in love with the movie. There were some things that I, at first, thought were a bit creepy (like how the cat bus smiles), but soon came to like (that bus looks sooooo soft!). I really enjoyed just seeing the kids running around and being full of energy. Watching them energizes me. I also like the scenes with the two sisters interacting. It reminds me of my relationship with my little sister. I love how everything is an adventure! It brought back so many memories of not only childhood, but also of teenage years (yes, I was a dork). Exploring the world and being in wonder of it all, that is a feeling that I absolutely can relate to. I think that Watching Totoro reminds me of my inner child and how simple life seemed back then. There's a longing for that innocence and free spirit of children, not weighed down by life. One of my favorite parts is when Mei goes off running with the corn in her arms, wanting to bring it to her mom. It's a scene that shows her genuine love and care for her mother, and she doesn't care what anybody else thinks even if it's not practical. Although it causes problems, her feelings are genuine.
Fortunately for me, I watched "Totoro" when I was a child, so watching this film was somewhat nostalgic. Having little sisters myself, I could relate to Satsuki through having to take care of younger sisters who wanted to follow you around everywhere. I personally enjoy watching the scenery throughout the whole movie. The painted landscape of the rice fields, trees, and old houses all seem to bring out "calmness" and "peace" to the movie. One of the more striking instances of the movie was when the sunsets were shown. The film's usage of the colors to enhance the sunset in a countryside setting exuded a sense of warmth. If anything, I particularly enjoyed the music of the movie, as it fits well to the movie's natural environments. I still remember when I first watched this movie, I became rather excited about the creatures and fantastical elements of it. I honestly thought the cat bus existed. However, watching it again in college, I don't feel as excited about it anymore. Besides acknowledging the film as rather cute and interesting, I don't feel anything else. That's just me though.
I saw totoro as a child, i'm not even sure at what age anymore, but i grew up assuming most people had seen it as a childhood cartoon. I guess i was wrong, haha. It's not like i had any particular attachment to their situation, I was born in a city, raised in a city and i have never moved in my life outside of the same house. Yet somehow I and many others formed a connection with the movie, the wonder and amazement the children felt for a giant furry cat-owl just oozed out of the screen i suppose. The moment Mei feels totoro's fur, you can feel it as well. Maybe it was the fur of your dog, your cat, or just a blanket, it doesn't really matter. (Someone is going to shoot me) It reminds me of Calvin and Hobbes in that way. I never had a life like his, i never had an imaginary friend, i never talked to my stuffed animals. Ever. I'm sure many are in the same boat, but we all understand the feeling.
Particular parts that hit me are definitely when they laugh in the bathtub to scare the soot spirits away, as well as when the tree grows in their backyard. The music really brings me back. And when Mei gets lost, of course that's obviously emotional though.
Lastly, i just wanted to note, i think the older i get the, creepier totoro gets XD. I mean he's still awesome cute, but i guess as a child i didn't see the weirdness of him. Now I understand why they were originally skeptical of the release, because totoro IS strange, huge eyes with tiny iris and a ooooversized grin and a propensity and growling with molar like teeth! Haha
I watched My Neighbor Totoro when I was a middle school student, actually, I'm not even sure about it though, because I cannot remember the storyline and plot well before the last class. I watched it so long time ago, so I just had the 'cute' memories and images about Totoro. Lots of dolls and cute supplies of Totoro also affected my 'good, cute, happy' memory about Totoro. So until before I saw again the movie at class, I just expected the abstract, cute moview.
But I was little surprised after seeing the movie again. Of course, Mei and her older sister(Satsuki?)'s innocent features made me laugh and feel Miyazaki's cute atmosphere such as in Sprited Away. But in the movie, in the scene when Mei and Totoro first met each other, I was little surprised that Totoro was little, kind of scary.... and also surprised that Mei was not frightened at all even though she met totally-strange monster which has super-giant scary mouth.. And the cat-bus was also scary when the cat's eyes looked at them.. I don't know why, but to me, Totoro and cat-bus are not that cute anymore as I thought before.....
Even though My previous memory about cute Totoro has changed a little bit, but I still think this movie has cute, happy atmosphere because of other factors like childlike Mei, peaceful rural atmosphere, natures, etc.
I think Totoro has two things that make this film seem nostalgic.
The scenary Miyazaki draws is one of them. The Japanese rural landscape he draws has full of green colors in Summer and that reminds me of the memory I visited my grandparents' place when I was little. Moreover, the sound of nature makes us feel nostalgic. I haven't been able to hear the sound insects chirp and frogs croak since I came to the U.S. even though those kind of sounds are very usual thing in Summer in Japan. Hearing those sounds reminds me of the memory of Summer I have experienced with nostalgia. I guess many Japanese people who are from rural area or has family in that kind of area might feel same way as I feel because these two things are the things many Japanese people experienced or long for commonly.
This was my first time seeing Totoro. Unlike many here though, I don't feel much nostalgia from my childhood when I see this movie. It's not a fault of the craftsmanship of this film. The film is without a doubt a superbly executed piece of work. The issue lies mainly with a disconnect between myself and what Miyazaki presents.
I guess the issue is I'm not all that nostalgic about my childhood to begin with. Probably because in many ways, I still follow many of the same patterns I did as a kid. I still spend more time in my daydreams then in reality. I still think the world is an amazing place etc. These things are now just colored differently now that I'm older.
I guess I just have a hard time understanding the whole concept of idealizing the "wonders of childhood".
This was my 3rd time seeing Totoro, and I enjoy watching it since it gives me a sense of an idyllic childhood that I was never able to experience. Set in the countryside of Japan, in an environment of simpler values, it seems a lot less complicated than my Southern California, suburban based childhood. The element of fantasy, with Totoro and the other spirits, add to the unreality of this world within the film.
I always thought of Totoro as Miyazaki's own form of Shintoism, in which the world is inhabited by spirits that can aid or jeopardize people's lives. Seeing as how he lives in the giant sacred tree near the family home, I always thought of him as the spirit of the tree, not portrayed as most Japanese mythologies have, in terms of specific animals or figures. Instead, Totoro, as embodying the old tree, is a young spirit, a giant furry animal that bears no comparison to any living animal out there now. In the end, I think Miyazaki wanted to reinstill that sense of nature as inhabited by souls and spirits and by personifying them as Totoros or soot balls, we can better appreciate its beauty and wonder
I think the most amazing and meaningful part in Totoro is that Totoro portrayed as a ‘fairy’ of the nature. Especially the part when Totoro and his friends worked for the trees really emphasized Miyazaki’s message. His most of the earlier films contained a message to keep, appreciate and protect our nature. Maybe it was extremely obvious so that we didn’t mention a lot in our class, but I still think that the most amazing part about Miyazaki’s films is he makes us to think about few things that we had forgotten.
And at the same time, the film brought urbanized people to be nostalgic about their youth. Honestly, I couldn’t relate myself to Mei or Sasutki like almost everybody did because I never had any kind of similar experience as Mei and Sasutki did. Moreover, I am not that old to be ‘nostalgic’ about my childhood. Few years later, when I have my own child, I might be able to feel what others felt.
Totoro is definitely very heartwarming and touching film. My friend used to call me “Mei”, they said we look alike which I disagree, so I have a special feeling towards Mei. Since I had my own imaginary friend when I was young, I wish Totoro was real for Mei.
I think the character of Mei connects me to My Neighbor Totoro. I do agree with most of the comments already written, that Totoro is a great way to relive the experience of being a child. I love being able to step out of my life and think the way that Mei and Satsuki do: the beauty of exploring the backyard, the days of middle school and making new friends, and being able to embrace a new environment with excitement and imagination. Being a younger sister, Mei is the perfect example of a younger sibling. I would constantly follow my sister around, trying to do what she did, copying her as much as I could without her noticing too much (yeah right!). Wanting to be grown up and like your older sibling was just very natural to me, and Mei is the same way. I had a big backyard growing up, with a sandbox and trees to climb in, and I used to get lost exploring for hours! Needless to say, I never found a Totoro in my backyard, but watching Mei and how curious she is about the littlest things reminds me of myself. That Miyazaki can capture that with his animation and story writing amazes me and always fills me with fond memories, which is why I would call this movie nostalgic :)
Totoro is a feel good film. There are no bad guys, no war, no impending doom, just two girls trying to deal with an absent and ill mother. This film demonstrates how a child’s fears can be equally troubling to themselves as an adult’s problems are to their own selves. While adults my use drugs, family, or therapy in order to help them get thought hard times, the girls use their imagination to deal with the troubles they have.
Is Totoro real or not? That is a question that is hard to answer. As an adult, it’s easy to say “well of course he’s fake because giant furry magical creature do not exist.” However, the film presents these fantastical creatures in such a way as to make them seem real: the girls touch them, or the neko-bus’s interaction with the “real” world. Adults also present these creatures are real critters by saying they will only appear to children. Lastly, the way the children meet them seems natural in the context of the movie. Real or not it doesn’t matter—Totoro is a charming film.
In my childhood, I could play with 'anything.' Literally, whatever I see, even if that is a piece of rock, I could turn that into a magic stone in my imagination. Thinking about my childhood, when my creative imagination was hitting the peak, I could relate myself into Mei.
Not like adults, (including myself right now) Mei can play and be interested in any object. To her, looking around a new house can be a wonderful event and exploring the new town can be an adventure. Her energy overwhelms the audience and brings a nostalgia back. Because she always gets interested in anything new, an existence of the huge monster simply becomes one of her "interesting events." If someone watches Totoro appearing, he would be very surprised; however, if Mei, who considers everything surprising and fresh, existence of Totoro is one of common surprises. By illustrating her characteristics, Miyazaki eliminates any potential question such as "how could she be so calmed when she saw a huge monster?" Not only that, Mei's mother plays a role who understands Mei. Even Mei talks about Totoro- whom usual adults would consider as a joke- her mother takes her story seriously at her perspective. By showing her mother's reaction, Miyazaki leads stereotypical adults to get used to be 'accepting surprises'.
(Hannah)
I think my own connection to Totoro lies in the nostalgia I experience not because I had seen the movie as a child, but because it remind me of my childhood. I didn't see Totoro until I was at least a teen, and when I did, it just reminded me of the mystery and happiness of my own childhood. The freedom and imagination the girls experienced through Totoro and through themselves reminded me of my own world as a child, and how imaginative I was as well. There was little trouble in my life, and had little worries over anything. Plus, I was understandably ignorant to everything that didn't concern me and my little sphere. Because of that, I was much like Mei, and found wonders in everything. Now I'm a cynical, analytical young adult. Growing up sucks.
We know the setting for Totoro is Japan in the late 1950's. It's weird that I've never lived in that time, but I can still feel the sense of nostalgia very much. The characters' haircut, Kanta's school hat, unpaved roads - these are carefully drawn to show the countryside in the Showa period.
Growing up in a rural town, I would go to my grandma's yard and pick vegetables, so the scene where Satuski and Mei ate the cucumbers are especially nostalgic to me. It's sad but natural streams are too contaminated these days to wash vegetables. In the movie we see Satsuki and Mei cooling their vegetables in the little creek. It gives us one of those feelings where we'd go "oh yeah, we used to do that." Miyazaki drew many things that we know existed but no longer see in our modern living, effectively giving the sense of nostalgia throughout the movie.
I have to admit, when I first watched, I thought it was kind of boring. However, watching it a few times more, it really captured me what a sweet and simple yet classic movie Totoro really was. It captured the carelessness, innocence, and playfulness of childhood that I often reminisce about. Yet, it carries an adult message about responsibility and may even carry more complicated undertones about post-war Japan
I think what makes the movie great is that it can be enjoyed the entire family as well as people of all backgrounds and all types of histories. Whether viewers sympathize with a sick family member, a spoiled younger sibling, moving away, or anything of that matter, the movie tries to make the experience as personal as possible while still creating an entertaining work of art.
Whenever the two characters reported to adults on what they saw, I recalled times when things in my childhood past seemed so real but are not through the eyes of an adult.
Just the idea that there were creatures lurking behind every dark corner, dolls that would wake when no one is looking, or a ghost's face that would appear the moment I look into the bathroom mirror...they seem so silly to me now, but the fears were real back then.
Of course Totoro is not anything to be scared of or should be undermined as just "imagined." The two girls in the film seemed so fearless, compared to myself back in the day, and they did not draw any lines between adults and children, whereas back then, I would often question how foolish or real my thoughts were.
These girls are very special, and may as well represent the innocence and simplicity of the mind of a child that I highly admire. There is something special about their trusting attitude toward what they encounter, and I hope that adults could take the same advice and not depend too much on own definitions of reality; rather, put aside their own definitions of what's right or wrong, real or imagined, and steer away from a post-modernist thinking. There is more beauty is seeing things as they are.
Lillian Guo
I love My Neighbor Totoro. As a child, I was never one interested in complicated relationships between self, nature, and others (I was a pretty simple kid). My sister bought it on VHS and forced me to sit down in front of the television. I absolutely adored Totoro, his big fuzziness and gargantuan mouth. His 'gentle giant' nature amidst a setting of green forests and rural landscapes was a magical thing. Satsuki's and Mei's fascination of the most simple things, especially with acorns, made me instantly run outside to find nuts once the film was finished.
Nowadays, this film always gives me a nostalgic feeling of simple awe and joy of exploring the world. Miyazaki's ability to evoke childhood experiences that reminds me of the good times as a kid without being overly saccharine or dry, always leaves me happy.
Totoro was my family’s film. Early in my childhood, my parents apparently thought they had happened upon something wonderful by discovering My Neighbor Totoro. We watched it all the time, alongside the standard Disney sing-along-song videos and the Magic Schoolbus; it always held a very special place in my heart. When I was very young, it seemed I had a significantly stronger direct connection with Mei and Satsuki. For some time between my early childhood and adolescence, however, I forgot about Totoro. When I saw it again as an adolescent, it seemed that my perception had changed. I was at the point where I pined to return to the carefree innocence of Mei and Satsuki. I must also admit that, given my natural tendency of attraction to pastoral settings, the grand trees, fresh streams, agricultural way of life, sense of neighborhood, and even the fireflies in this film are images that strike a chord with the part of my mind that desires to return to a simpler way of life, though somehow a state I have never experienced regardless.
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