Ponyo was one of the Studio Ghibli movies that came out past the “nostalgic” Ghibli phase. It was a modern Miyazaki, having been released in 2008, with the colors ripe and bright, the animation smooth, and the English voice actors well known (Liam Neeson, Cate Blanchett, Matt Damon, Betty White). For me, I grew up with Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989), Castle in the Sky (1986), Spirited Away (2001), and My Neighbor Totoro (1988): the soundtracks of the movies essentially becoming the soundtracks of my childhood. Ponyo, however, came later, and I remember watching it the first time with a mixture of “This is kind of okay” to “Oh god what is happening.”

I’ve rewatched it every few years, not nearly as much as the others, but just enough to keep the awful theme song in my memory (that’s a lie: I usually block it out, a trauma response, immediately after watching it). Each time, my response to the story gets lighter and lighter. I’ve realized Ponyo isn’t nostalgic for a number of reasons, not only because I was older when I first watched it, but also that it doesn’t treat the world as a beautiful, perfect pocket of life like many of the ones I grew up watching.

Ponyo is honest with its depiction of the ocean; it’s immensely beautiful and even frightening, but also infested with waste, plastic, and polluted beyond belief thanks to human society. The environments of Kiki, Castle, and Totoro, meanwhile, always seemed pristine, clean, and magical; untouched by the hands of humanity. You wanted to live inside their beauty, whereas Ponyo you’re forced to pause and consider. I’m ignoring some of the other Miyazaki movies that do address deeper/harder issues for now (Princess Mononoke, Nausicaa, Grave of the Fireflies) and primarily focusing on the movies I grew up watching, the more child-focused ones.

Ponyo is also honest with its family life: Sosuke’s dad works out at sea while his mother takes care of the house on the hill as well as works at the local elderly home. She is openly angry with the father, who chooses to take another several weeks (or months even) at sea instead of coming home to family. Her loneliness is apparent, even as she tries to make things happy and content for Sosuke. The families of Totoro and Kiki, meanwhile, were always quiet, idyllic, untouched by trauma, even soft when they were lonely (the mother is sick in Totoro, and Kiki has to leave home to be independent, but the families were always still smiling and happy usually). Ponyo’s family is just that slightly more honest and real with its home life, which is jarring for someone who grew up on strange and gorgeous Ghibli worlds you wanted to sink into rather than be faced with reality.

The story has grown on me, incredibly. It’s silly and magical, of course, but also has that touch of reality that the new generation is forced to deal with. My friend and I still screeched with laughter whenever Ponyo’s Kermit the Frog face appeared in her half human form, and giggled immaturely at the ocean’s “big titty” lady form, but I think that’s part of the new media as well. Days after the corona-virus appeared, people were online making jokes about it (still are). When world war III was being threatened only a few months ago, tweets and Facebook posts constructing memes about the draft were already everywhere. Generation Z is a land rife with family trauma, global warming scares, and terrible presidents, but damn if we don’t laugh in the face of it all. 

Ponyo (2008)

golden fishes gleam

beneath an avalanche of sludge 

the ocean weeps as we watch

glimmering screens 

portraying an embodied entity

unnamed other than

the Sea Mother;

only her hair is bright pink

instead of trailing seaweed

medusa’s lover writing 

letters which end up soggy

by the time they reach her

someone would drown

in the tears of our Earth

before we learn how to sing

one verse of Ponyo’s

ungodly theme song

–

save the kisses 

for the starfish choked by plastic