Despite capturing a gorgeous visual aesthetic, the first time I watched the newest Oscar-winning feature from acclaimed director Hayao Miyazaki, I had a hard time following its largely symbolic exploration of grief through a magical realism lens. Upon subsequent viewings, The Boy and the Heron has evolved before my eyes into a breathtaking tapestry of beauty, especially as someone who lost a parent. Now on home video, the film becomes accessible to an even wider audience than before. Overflowing with fascinating character work and a worthy English dubbed language track, The Boy and the Heron presents a thrilling comeback after the so-called “retirement” of an animation titan.
12-year-old Mahito (Luca Padovan) laments the loss of his mother just three years into World War II just as the film begins. After moving to a distant village with his father and the man’s young new bride for a fresh start, Mahito has no inkling of the fantastical strangeness that awaits him on the other side. Despite tangentially connecting with the little old ladies at his new home, Mahito stews in his own thoughts, feeling as forgotten as his dearly departed mother. In these introductory segments, Miyazaki’s gripping script gives us ample time in Mahito’s headspace—before the oddities of the heron and the tower master, the emotional devastation of loss casts a dark shadow.
Speaking of the titular heron, Robert Pattinson voices the freaky bird, a veritable manic figure that hides its humanoid form in the skin of a squawking figurehead. Pattinson’s skittish performance is practically unrecognizable, a transformative vocal turn that speaks to his impressive range. In Japan, the heron symbolizes death and otherworldly connection; it makes perfect logical sense that the one here serves as Mahito’s gateway to the other side. The world inside the forest’s abandoned tower leads Mahito down a classic path of self-discovery, blending coming-of-age elements with both inner and external demons.
While I would be hesitant in attempts to explain the specifics of almost anything that happens within the middle section and final act, The Boy and the Heron must be praised for its attention to detail, and of course the gorgeously rendered visuals and atmosphere. The complexity of its metaphors could warrant an entire essay dissecting their deeper meanings. Featuring a dreamlike beauty and deeply emotional conclusions about the meaning of life, animation fanatics will want to revisit the zany worldview of Miyazaki’s latest over and over again.
Special features on the disc include feature-length storyboards; interviews with composer Joe Hisaishi, producer Toshio Suzuki, and supervising animator Takeshi Honda; the “Spinning Globe” music video; and the coolest one of the bunch, a drawing session with Honda. Both versions—one with the original Japanese, the other featuring a polished English dub—are worth their weight in cinematic gold.
The Boy and the Heron unleashes the first Studio Ghibli film ever on 4K Ultra HD, now available wherever physical media is sold.
