Tonari no Totoro

My Neighbor Totoro carries the soft weight of something both simple and profound, setting the tone for a story that doesn’t rush to impress but chooses instead to breathe. The film’s plot is minimal, almost deliberately slow, unfolding like a lazy summer afternoon yet that simplicity is its strength. It doesn’t rely on grand conflicts or twists; instead, it finds meaning in the ordinary, making the mundane feel magical. The main characters, two sisters, are written with an honesty that captures the rawness of childhood, their wonder, their fears, and their resilience, while the side characters act less as narrative drivers and more as quiet ... witnesses to their growth. The worldbuilding is gentle but precise, blending rural landscapes with fantastical creatures in a way that feels entirely natural, as if magic has always been a part of the world, just unnoticed by adults. Internally, the logic remains consistent within its soft surrealism. Totoro and the forest spirits never break their own quiet rules. Thematically, it reflects on childhood innocence, the quiet strength found in small moments, and the unspoken comfort of believing in something beyond what the eye can see. Its moral core reminding us that not every story needs a villain to carry weight. Visually, the animation is tender and rich in atmosphere, with each rustling leaf and passing breeze animated with care. The music elevates the dreamlike tone, playful yet deeply emotive, and the voice acting captures an authentic childlike vulnerability without ever feeling exaggerated. Its simplicity may make it feel slow or uneventful to some, but that very stillness is what gives it its quiet power like a warm memory that refuses to fade, even when nothing spectacular seems to happen.

When you're a kid, almost every tree, every corner, every playground, cats and dogs, and every rain soaked afternoon filled with bright sunshine is - magical. As you grow old, the magic is lost.

What this beautiful movie captures is the magic of childhood, made possible by the brilliance of the Ghibli arists, because this film is no less than art exemplified. Our two protagonists, the two little girls, are suffused with life - every action, every trees, every shade thrown by the sunlight filtered through the leaves reminding you of scenes you may have witnessed in childhood. It pulls you along, as we step into ... the territory of spirits that capture our imagination in just the exact way it captures our little friends'.

If we were in search of lost time, and lost magic, this is the film. Filled with Proustian moments, it's a smorgasbord of involuntary memory reaching back out from the depths of our minds. I have cried watching this many more times than in most sentimental films - because for a very brief moment as I lose myself in this world, it stirs those foggy ruins of time left bereft as the clock ticks ever forward.

This film I feel gets better as I age - and every time I watch it, it drifts me up on the gusts of winds blowing across the moonlit fields, up on the branches of fantastical trees.

The palette sprays cool blues of summer moonshine, the bright yellows of fading sun, the dark oppressive grays of night and storms. The grass is of a colour that stems from myriad of scenes witnessed in reality - somehow it's just right. The visuals are stunning - the colours never pop out really, but accentuate, create the atmosphere that drives our feelings.

I'm not going to go into any details of the story - and even if I did, I'm pretty sure that it wouldn't take anything away from your experience of this magical movie. All you need to know is that the two girls move with their dad to be near their mother who is in hospital to recover from a long illness. And they move into an old house with a unique character, which sets off our tale. You'll learn many things - about the little stories that we believe. About yokai, and spirits, and nature existing in harmony with human life.

The tale is set in a *satoyama*, a little hill that is curated by humans to support nature - molded by the temples built at the top, by the little rivulets diverted along its contours. Nature is THE MOST IMPORTANT theme of the film. Hayao Miyazaki has made a number of movies based on his love of nature and natural phenomenon, and I feel this is one of his best films.

So, I'll keep this short: have a go - watch this.

It's amazing. It's magical. Let the film happen to you, and I'm sure you'll understand.
Have a good one, if you read this review all the way through, and I wish you peace and prosperity.

My Neighbor Totoro has successfully accomplished everything it set out to do. The reason as to why could be due to the fact that this film did not need to necessarily strive for some grand narrative in order to receive critical acclaim. Every aspect, from its visually appealing presentation to its basic themeing of living within your surroundings has been attuned for its intended younger audience. However, this isn’t where the film’s reception ends, because it seems to resonate with adult viewers as well, with this site being a good example of such, currently sitting at an 8.25. Whether it’s by nostalgia or the feel ... the need to re-emanate highly idealized juvenile qualities of oneself, its reception nonetheless relies on what it hoped to elicit out of the viewer. As such, the potential rewatch value of the film becomes apparent, which builds off of its eminence. Within the film’s simple presentation (which includes kinesthetic immersion) lies a tale that portrays the mentality that any imaginative child could possess.

Let’s get the obvious out of the way: My Neighbor Totoro is nonetheless stunning.
My Neighbor Totoro is essentially one giant painting. Wonderfully painted, the scenery of the film is engrossing, as the use of color and lighting were wonderfully crafted to capture its gentle and whimsical feel. The fact that much of the scenery looks as if it were created using oil pastels only reaffirms the film’s attention to detail. Perhaps the most obvious example of the film’s painting-esque depiction can be found within much of the film’s greenery, resembling sunlight reflecting off of cumulonimbus clouds on a bright and sunny day. Even the film seems to emphasize it; in particular, the two sisters take notice of a giant tree nearby their home, as does the camera, which then pans to the top of said tree. Likewise, the brooks and patty fields that stretch across and cover the landscape respectively feature water so clear that one’s hand will feel cold by merely catching a glimpse of it. Staying true to its surroundings, the Kusakabe house that fits snugly within the scenery embodies much of the visual allure within its surroundings; touched by nature, but still transformable into a home. Within this countryside house hides skittish, eyed, soot able to create makeshift black gloves for those brave enough to get their hands on them. The main appeal of this film appears to be found with the big fuzzy creature named Totoro; forsooth, his marketability can easily be seen whenever he’s seen with his big grin. Jokes aside, a film in which the living beings that populate it radiate a warm aura that gives the film its Chernobyl-like levels of sentimentality. My Neighbor Totoro is a film that undoubtedly comes out on top when it comes to its scenery, which is why its critical reception shouldn’t come as a surprise.

And so forth…
The factors that allow My Neighbor Totoro to be more than a mere painting in an art gallery can be found within the film’s use of sound. Much like the visuals, there are plenty aspects of the film which are attuned to great detail, emphasizing the liveliness and immersion even more. The opening theme’s melody, as imaginative as a kindergarten marching band (if they’re strong enough for the bass drum, that is) should be enough to greet the viewer’s ears. Matched by what the music might depict, a white gumdrop trots across the screen whilst carrying a sprout similarly to a balloon, among other band members. Soon after, we are greeted with nothing more than the picturesque landscape accompanied by the sound of a running engine. It didn’t take long for much of the film’s music to be of note either, since a soft, frolicky melody goes hand in hand with the visuals. The heavy emphasis on realism leads many of the often cherished and simple aspects of life to be of note as well. From more personal sounds such as those of bare feet hitting the wooden floor, to the more natural sound of rain falling on the leaves, it remains a film whose sound department did an ample job at stimulating the viewer’s ears. Once again, My Neighbor Totoro’s aesthetics are those that both withstand the test of time, in addition to having a defined purpose was fulfilled.

Okay… enough with the flattery! There’s something else that must be stated...
When it comes to stories that heavily rely on their visuals, it can often get caught up in itself. Prioritizing its strongest suit may lead it to neglect other aspects of said story that provide it with actual substance, such as a plot and/or characterization. Moreover, the use of pretty visuals can often cloud the viewer’s judgment so that criticism towards other aspects are passed off in pursuit of praising its main appeal. Point being, good visuals are often thought of as a hallmark of a good film, despite the fact that said visuals can often be used as a distraction from other aspects of the film which are neglected. Indeed, good visuals can make for a more pleasant viewing experience and moreover elevate a film to masterpiece tier, but here’s the catch: its visuals need something to fall back on. When relating to the film itself, My Neighbor Totoro is often thought of as a bit of an enigma because it doesn’t use much to back up much of visual allure. Despite this, the film benefits simply because it didn’t necessarily need to. Unlike other films that piteously attempt to elevate itself above mere eye candy (*ahem* Kimi no Na wa *ahem*), My Neighbor Totoro was able to leave an interpretable theme with a scenic depiction, on which the foundation the film rests on exists as a showcase for its own scenery. In other words, it’s a film that plays it safe given its young and impressionable target audience. Simplicity would be preferred as to not squander the portrayal of what the film hoped to portray, in which there would be no way to modify the film without straying from its defined purpose.

Looking beyond the main appeal...
My Neighbor Totoro’s visual charm lies a story meant to showcase how children can turn towards their imagination. For a story grounded in realism, it would make sense for the story to not be an exitious continuum of joy. After all, a life in the countryside was defined by simple living, in which household helpers were often used, given the lack of modern amenities. In a way, the setting alone has already provided a ruse for the girls to use their imagination, because a life defined by simple living as opposed to a stimulated modern lifestyle allows them to both experience boredom, only to overcome it thereafter. Moreover, the liberty their father bestowed upon them in which being cooped up in the house wouldn’t provide much entertainment, even considering the abundant supply of eyed-soot. However, the very reason for which the two girls were released into the countryside could be found with one of deep concern. Recovering from an illness, the girls’ mother not only needs reassurance from the hospital workers, but the additional morale, which can uplift spirits for a family not used to the sudden separation. Children, who are vulnerable without their mother, encounter the big Totoro, who, is rightfully scary at first, but the “stranger danger” wears off upon realizing that he is merely a grinning ball of fluff. Much like boredom, the imagination can be thought of as a way to deal with one’s negative environment around them, mostly as a form of escapism. Despite this, My Neighbor Totoro shouldn’t be thought of as a sad story, because it’s not. After all, it’s a story that encourages children to interact with the world around them.

When pertaining to the film’s reception...
My Neighbor Totoro is typically thought of as a film made for children; however, there are a few reasons as to why it could be considered a film for anyone. A film whose themeing relies heavily on sentimentality and nostalgia could come across as sappy. Moreover, it leads to other aspects of the film which could make for a more enjoyable viewing experience noticeably absent. As stated previously, the film does not fall back on much except for its themeing on interacting with the world around yourself. The plot itself is bare, and more-so exists as a vehicle to transport the viewer from one scenic depiction to the next. Additionally, it lacks the typical plot structure found in many other films, which could lead the viewer to only anticipate the potential events that ensue. The very critics that assess that a film characterized by its slow and simple living, consequentially go against the message that it’s trying to depict. That being, childhood is sacred and using one’s own imagination was often used as a way to entertain oneself while the overstimulated modern environment (defined by easy living as opposed to simple living) was out of the picture. My Neighbor Totoro is a film that hopefully attempted to resonated with those that often sought out to relive the nostalgia factor from their own childhood, but not so much with re-living the same experiences in the real world.

When pertaining to the “so what’s?”...
To reiterate once again, My Neighbor Totoro is a film that fulfilled its defined purpose. However, it is phrased in a manner that alludes to its themeing being acted upon by the viewer, when it’s typically far from the case. Typically, mediums targeted towards children often have a "call to action," wherein a level of encouragement is needed to engage viewers with the themes and/or messages of the story. In this case, the visual stimulant response often seeks to characterize nature as a wondrous place so that children are encouraged to go outside. Yet, who is targeting this film towards children? Both parents and critics have already distanced themselves from feralistic thought by entrusting experts who spend their days not engaging with said themeing. Due to this, the film eventually reaches the point of monotony, in which all of the concepts are grasped, leading the viewer to question: “So what?” To put it more bluntly, what is the audience supposed to take away from this film? My Neighbor Totoro could be considered subjective in its taste, in which it wouldn’t particularly resonate with viewers who are not onboard with the overt sentimental factor put in use. The concepts the film has introduced are easy to grasp, and it's easy to see why they would resonate with people. By fulfilling its defined purpose, we mean that, from a narrative perspective, the reception of this film is rarely the fault of the film itself, and more-so found within its audience. A film whose themes center on environmentalism, depicted in a medium meant for bright screening, green-lit by a large studio as its “magnum opus” has a tint of irony to it. In spite of this, the film could be thought of as one to “raise awareness” for a said cause, as environmentalism typically does. Yet again, many of the film’s faults are found within its reception rather than the film itself, because its dedicated fanbase are typically not thought of as being hippie nature lovers. This can be seen by its padded scenery, which merely exists as a means for the viewer to briefly relive their childhood upon imagining themselves climbing that same tree, or crying when things get too tough, or turning towards a large, fuzzy gray creature upon realizing that their mother is gone. Jokes aside, the film itself only seems to resonate with viewers on an audiovisual basis, and while good visuals elevate it to a kinetic basis as well, it is merely falsely sensed. When pertaining to the film’s reception, it would be safe to assume that dedicated fans do not embody the simple living that the film hoped to portray. Most evidently, the amount of Totoro paraphernalia would be a stark contrast to the film’s embracement of simple living. Aside from the fact that it was a temporary reliving that allowed the viewer to falsely relive a childhood that never existed, its reception rarely transcends such. No other aspect of the film seems to be particularly memorable aside from a few padded shots that show off the film’s blend between fantasy and realism. Assuming that said critics of the film don’t have an imagination, in which the inability to relive their childhood in a manner similar to what has been depicted, could possibly lead to a disappointing viewing experience.

In summation...
In its own regards, My Neighbor Totoro is the epitome of sticking two fingers in front of a computerized image of a beach and claiming that you're getting a sun-tan. The film is largely simulative due to its ability to put the viewers’ audiovisual, and moreover kinesthetic inputs to good use. Moreover, it could allow those who have lived an idealized childhood to relive the same experiences upon viewing the film’s scenic shots. The aspects of this film that allow it to be immersive rely on softness, both in terms of its painting-like depiction and the gentle melodies that go with it. At best, it works for a child audience because of a simple presentation of a theme can be acted upon quite simply, even though it's often squandered; it can also resonate with adults who consider themselves sentimental. However, the film lacks substance elsewhere which could make for a boring watch. Moreover, despite the fact that the viewer could consider be fully onboard for what this film hoped to accomplish, it may only be temporary in the sense that what was relived was only provided by what has been presented. In other words, the film is not memorable aside from the fact that it’s pleasing to look at, despite the fact that it tried to be more (as other films do worsefully). Eventually, the film reaches the point of monotony, where self satisfaction becomes futile and all efforts to leave the viewer with more would unnecessarily complicate itself. Overall, My Neighbor Totoro was "doomed to fail" so to speak given its embracement of nature theme, which contrasts with the film being rather commendable for temporarily depicting an idealized, and yet realistic and livable version of childhood. Upon vieweing this film, one may similarly be afflicted by the civilizational phenomenon known as boredom.

TL;DR: go outside.