Representation Matters: Studio Ghibli

I like to focus on the positives rather than the negatives in media. Partly because there are plenty of people already calling out mass media for what they're not doing well, and those people are doing pretty well at raising awareness and getting their voices heard. But partly because I feel like if we fail to recognise the stuff that is done well, many things become seen as unsuccessful, and makes similar projects much harder to finance and make a reality. The best way to support messages that you want to see is by throwing your financial and social support behind it - the money lets executives know that this kind of idea is profitable, so they'll continue doing it, and the social support makes the message more widespread and hopefully encourages other people to support it, too.

With that in mind, I want to look at Studio Ghibli and their presentation of female characters over the years. Due to the nature of the post, there will be some spoilers, but I will endeavour to keep them to a minimum. Still, this is your early warning: there are spoilers within!

Studio Ghibli is a Japanese animation studio famed internationally for their gorgeous imagery and complex storytelling. They range from cute, family-friendly stories like Kiki's Delivery Service to darker works like Princess Mononoke. They won the Best Animated Feature Oscar in 2002 for Spirited Away, the only non-English-speaking animated film to win the award to date (the majority of winners comes from Disney/Pixar, with the occasional Dreamworks film).

Even a cursory look at the Studio's history reveals a wealth of female lead characters rarely found anywhere else: of the 22 main feature films released by Studio Ghibli, 11 have the lead 'view point' character be female and a further 5 have stories that have either an even amount of importance between the male and female lead or the female driving the plot, despite a male viewpoint. Even in the stories where women don't drive the plot, they still appear: as maternal characters, sisters, friends, family - in short, as people, with ambitions and skills and their own point of view.

But for examples of something a little more specific, I'm going to be looking at a couple of my favourite films that they've made, and point out instances of what I mean.

Princess Mononoke is one of the films where the viewpoint character is male (Prince Ashitaka) however women are a vastly integral part of the world and the plot of the film. San, the titular Princess Mononoke, is a woman raised by the god-wolf Moro, and shares Moro's distaste of humans, whom she sees as polluting the land and destroying the forest. San takes an active stance in this fight, directing her wolf-brothers into fights and attempting to assassinate Lady Eboshi.

Lady Eboshi herself is a strong woman who rules Irontown (Tatara in the original Japanese) fairly, rescuing and creating a safe haven for ex-prostitutes and lepers, and using the local resource of iron to maintain a strategic advantage over her neighbours. What I love about the film is that nothing is absolute in terms of morality. While it would be easy to completely vilify Lady Eboshi, we are shown that she is sincerely only acting in the best interests of her people, and she's highly compassionate towards the least valued members of society, not only offering them safety, but work and shelter. The women of Irontown work the bellows that smelt the iron they use for trade and weapons, and the film shows it to be hard work, but work they chose over their old lives. When men try to put them down for their work being safer than theirs, the women have the power to retort back. Without them, the economy and trade of Irontown would be diminished, if not downright broken.

Moro, the god-wolf and mother figure to San is a wonderful example of the ferociousness of a mother who is threatened. She's smart - smart enough to see what humans have done to other animal-gods, and smart enough to recognise the humans luring the boars into a trap, and to know that the boars will still charge in blindly even if they knew. She's protective of her adoptive daughter in the same way as her wolf-sons. She fights to protect her land and those dependant on her in a very similar way to Lady Eboshi.

If anything, it is Ashitaka who takes a passive role for much of the film, observing the differing points of view and only interfering when absolutely necessary. In fact, he openly acknowledges that he is watching and trying to stay neutral in the conflict. It doesn't stop him from doing the right thing, and acting to make the situation better, but it does stop him rushing 'to the rescue' of these women without understanding how and why they're in conflict, like so many films would.

The film portrays the early stages of a romance between Ashitaka and San, yet this doesn't reduce San to just a romantic interest. The characters complement each other and help each other grow - Ashitaka opens San to the idea that not all humans are bad and helps her come to terms with her own humanity, yet her goals and ideals remain the same - protect the forest. One of his major contributions to San is convincing her that she shouldn't throw her life away in mindless defence of the forest and that her life matters as an individual, not just a cause.

On all levels, the film is very respectful of women and the choices that female characters make, from background flavour characters to the women who drive the conflict and the plot forward. There are no blameless heroes, nor truly vilified characters, and all of the women have a complex nature that makes them stand out as fully formed characters, not two-dimensional stereotypes.

Spirited Away, arguably their most famous work, stars Chihiro, a young 10-year old girl moving to her new home. She begins the story reluctant to uproot her life, a little sullen and nervous and self-centred - things that are perfectly normal for a young girl, especially when facing such a big change in her life. Even this is quite a leap forward from many children's movies - she's allowed to be flawed in a way that isn't so extreme to be unrecognisable. Everyone's encountered a shy child, or a self-centred one or a nervous or sullen one. There's a good chance that was you, when growing up.

When the plot truly begins, and the 'abandoned' themepark is revealed to be a bath-house resort for the gods, Chihiro is scared and runs to her parents for support, but finds them transformed into pigs. This kickstarts her character growth, forcing her to become more emotionally independent and confident in her own abilities. The whole film explores this growth, and allows you to see a slow and steady improvement from clingy, nervous, self-centred child to a confident, generous young girl. She has to muster up courage, resourcefulness and put in a fair bit of hard work, and she's still the same person, but it is very clear that she learns a lot through the course of the film.

Chihiro is a wonderful character for children to learn from - she is faced with things children find scary, and she is scared herself, but she finds a way to be brave and get through it. She loves her parents dearly. She learns to be respectful of all kinds of people, no matter how weird or alien they might seem at first. She grows while learning to remain true to herself. She's not afraid to shoulder her fair share of the hard work, despite not being practised at it.

The supporting cast are good, too, from Lin, who acts more brusque and mercenary than she truly is, to Yubaba, the money-motivated owner of the bathhouse who would do anything to keep her baby safe. They all have their own motivations and goals and actively achieve things on their own.

These are just two brief examples from a very long list of wonderful female characters in Studio Ghibli. I could have mentioned the pirate matriarch in Laputa: Castle in the Sky, the sisters in My Neighbour Totoro, Kiki and the baker whom she rents her room from in Kiki's Delivery Service, Sophie in Howl's Moving Castle...I honestly could have thrown a dart, and as long as it didn't land on Tales from Earthsea, I would have had something positive to say.

This is (quite obviously, I hope) something that's pretty dear to my heart. I don't want all films to be only about and for women. But I do want to see women as being represented as more than an accessory for a male character. More than a 'sexy lamp'. As we can see, it's not impossible - it's not even difficult. Just treat your characters - all your characters - as human, with their own strengths and flaws and backgrounds and motivations.

In the words of Miyasaki himself: “Many of my movies have strong female leads - brave, self-sufficient girls that don’t think twice about fighting for what they believe in with all their heart. They’ll need a friend, or a supporter, but never a saviour. Any woman is just as capable of being a hero as any man.”