No one understands the soul of childhood like Hayao Miyazaki...

Rating: 9/10 (22 December 2017)

Miyazaki's movies demand more viewings, not because they're too complex, but because their narratives and visuals are so rich you can easily miss a detail.
Still, "Totoro" looked startlingly simple and straight-forward, there wasn't much intrigue, or even character-development, it's not even a coming-of-age story, despite being a childhood adventure and while there's no villain, there's no conflict whatsoever to enhance the dramatic outlook.
But it's precisely for these reasons that I watched it again, and this time, I had the proper key to open my heart and let the magic operate: my daughter who's the same age as Mei, four years (actually she just celebrated it today). We saw the cartoon together and I didn't miss any detail, I couldn't since each scene she asked me question, about the soot sprites, the haunted house, why are they laughing in the bath, why are their little dark things leaving the house? And I had to pay attention to all these tiny details because she wouldn't miss one, just like Mei... and then I realized that Miyazaki understood children.
I said this is a children movie; less because it deals with children but because it's oriented toward children. And maybe it's because Mei is the smallest one that she could spot these rabbit-like ears in the grass and then discover a white little creature with the same role than the white rabbit in "Alice in Wonderland". But Miyazaki doesn't use that scene for a narrative purpose, if he cared for narrative, the titular Totoro would have appeared fifteen minutes earlier. Miyazaki sets the mood, he lets us contemplate the place, the house and the beautiful nature with that watercolor quality so typical of the anime style.
As usual there are many long moments where nothing happens, or nothing special, which is the antithesis of screen writing but the essence of life, sometimes, things take time to happen. And we have almost thirty seconds where Mei is trying to catch the little rabbit and we see nothing else, except for a butterfly entering from the other side of a cabin and getting out from the hole Mei is staring at. I hadn't noticed that butterfly before and it didn't change much to my comprehension of the film but its adorable randomness made me smile. Never underestimate the appeal of 'insignificant' details.
Finally, Mei spots the rabbit and he's following a bigger one, the two run away leaving nuts and seeds on the ground and after a chase across the forest, she finally lands near the hollow of a camphor tree where Totoro is sleeping. What a delightfully anticlimactic entrance! Myazaki's most iconic creation just lying there and being slightly disturbed by a small girl. We're not even sure his name is Totoro, it seems to be the way she interpreted his repeated roars... or yawns. Mei baptizes him Totoro and seems to be the only privileged kid to see her, for a while.
But here again, Miyazaki avoids all the clichÃ©s of the genre, Mei's father believes her and explains that the creature is probably the master of the forest or some protective spirit. And her sister Satsuki while the voice of wisdom at the age of 10 and the substitute mother... envies her kid sister. Miyazaki understands children so much that he grasps the different layers of childhood representing them like the small and average rabbit, he knows a kid of four will be playful and incapable of reasoning or being reasoned while an older one will still be innocent but aware of the tough implications of the world.
But once Totoro is there, Satsuki and Mei are both incarnations of the spirit of childhood, they literally jump at his tummy and fly together, this is a magnificent scene but we've seen flying already in Miyazaki, how about perhaps the most iconic moment where the two sisters and Totoro wait for a bus, and Satsuki gives him an umbrella. We talked about moments where nothing happens, whatever this scene is supposed to mean is secondary beyond the fact it inspires a wild smile and a certain warmth... and that it introduces the second iconic creation of Myazaki, the Chesire-like cat-bus.
Only a mind that understands children can be that creative... and Miyazaki knows childhood with the same intelligence as he respects ours, he knows the kids won't jump in the cat-bus, they're waiting for their father. For all the magic and fantasy the film carries, it's only because it's rooted in the reality of the world, incarnated by the beautiful landscapes or the sickness of the mother or relationships between parents and children or inter-generational, that we're transported by Totoro. He only pops up when reality is sometimes too tough to handle, even for children.
And I can't imagine any children not being responsive to the film, Walt Disney said that every film should have morale, for every laugh there should be a tear, that one scare or two can be stimulating but while "My Neighbor Totoro" has some dramatic tension, this is a film consistently gentle and sweet about its own material as if a world where Totoro didn't need villains or antagonists to make its point. As ifTotoro was the master of the film, spiritually.
Miyazaki took that gentle approach we'll also find in movies like "Kiki" or "Ponyo", with a basic story and not too fancy animation but a huge emotional outlook just like "Dumbo" was the most popular Disney film while not as sophisticated as "Fantasia" or ambitious as "Bambi".
But "Totoro" is more than a Japanese Dumbo, it's an icon so popular even the opening song (a catchy march tune) became a children rhyme. No wonder it became the Studio mascot. And since the name refers to an airplane engine. You have the essence of Miyazaki's creation in that blue cardboard opening in each of his films.