Documentary film “Hayao Miyazaki and the Heron” closely follows Miyazaki’s rather long process behind his recent Oscar-winning animation film “The Boy and the Heron” (2023). While I came to admire more of all those painstaking efforts behind that acclaimed comeback work of his, I also felt rather dissatisfied as duly observing how often the documentary only ends up scratching the surface.
Around the time when his previous film “The Wind Rises” (2013) came, Miyazaki announced that it would be his last work, but many of us were not that serious about this announcement of his. After all, it was not his first announcement of retirement, and then it seemed that he was willing to make another comeback just like he did not long after making his first Oscar-winning film “Spirited Away” (2002).
The documentary shows how he gradually considered being back in business. As he admits at one point, he could not help but become drawn to the possibility of another project, and, above all, he was often reminded of his impending mortality as many of his close colleagues including Isao Takahata, who was another prominent animation filmmaker in Ghibli Studios besides Miyazaki, passed away during next several years. In the end, he decided to get back from his brief retirement period, and his longtime producer Toshio Suzuki, who is another key figure of Ghibli Studio besides Miyazaki and Takahata, was certainly delighted about that.
What follows next is a very long production period during which Miyazaki and a bunch of animators worked really hard on every frame of their film. Their work actually began in 2017, and the documentary gives us some glimpses into Miyazaki and his animators’ arduous work process. After he finally finished what can be regarded as the backbone of their film, he and his animators subsequently worked much more for enhancing or enriching Miyazaki’s original vision, and we are reminded again of why cell animation can be much more personal and expressive than digital animation. After all, every frame was drawn by them from the very start, though they did use computers when they checked whether their result could work as well as envisioned by Miyazaki on the whole.
Due to his old age, Miyazaki sometimes had to be helped by his assistant director, and it is rather amusing to see how they push and pull each other at times. While certainly admiring Miyazaki a lot, the assistant director sticks to his opinion on a certain frame filled with a lot of pelicans, and Miyazaki humbly agrees to that after watching how a little but important detail added by his assistant director makes that frame look more realistic.
Meanwhile, we get to know a bit about how personal the film is for Miyazaki in many aspects. While its young hero is clearly the fictional reflection of his younger self during the late 1940s, several supporting characters in the story are partially inspired by some of his close colleagues. For example, that weird heron character is based a bit on Suzuki (and his pot belly), and the appearance of that old man appearing later in the story is derived from Takahata, whom Miyazaki has surely missed a lot since Takahata’s death in 2018.
After Takahata and then his longtime personal assistant passed away, Miyazaki became more aware of how short the remaining time could be for him. Although he found himself quite frustrated and exhausted at times, he was not deterred at all as managing to keep going with his animators. Their production had a setback due to the COVID-19 Pandemic during the early 2020s, but it was continued as usual, and there eventually came the point where he could move onto the following post-production process.
Sadly, the documentary does not delve that deep into the post-production process of the film. We simply get a brief sequence beginning with Miyazaki and Suzuki listening to the theme song for the film, and you may be disappointed that the documentary does not show much of Miyazaki’s collaboration with composer Joe Hisaishi, who has steadily worked with Miyazaki since “Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind” (1984).
And I was distracted more than once by those clumsy jump cuts throughout the documentary. Instead of simply listening to Miyazaki or others in the documentary, the documentary frequently inserts the archival footage clips or the excerpts from Miyazaki’s or Takahata’s previous works, and the result is quite jumpy and heavy-handed to say the least. In addition, it blatantly uses the excerpts from Hisaishi’s scores for Miyazaki’s previous works, and I could not help but notice the jarring disparity between the music and what is shown on the screen.
In conclusion, “Hayao Miyazaki and the Heron”, directed by Kaku Arakawa, is less engaging compared to two other recent documentaries involved with Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli. If you want something more personal and intimate, there is “The Kingdom of Dreams and Madness” (2023). If you want to get the overall view on Miyazaki’s career in Studio Ghibli, there is “Miyazaki: Spirit of Nature” (2024). Although I cannot recommend “Hayao Miyazaki and the Heron”, you may already be willing to watch anyway if you admire and enjoy “The Boy and the Heron” more than me, and I will not stop you at all.













































