Craving a Slice of Life? This is the Secret Ingredient

Listen, I like my over-the-top, massive budget superhero sci-fi action movies as much as the next person, but don’t you ever just need… a break? A break from all the flashy CGI, suspenseful plot twists, and scores that make sure that your heart is still capable of beating faster than your average resting heart rate. In situations like these, one often turns to your slice of life movies– your Breakfast Club’s, your Flipped’s, your Paddington’s, even. However, I’d like to turn your attention to the esteemed, meticulous Studio Ghibli– a Japanese animation studio that I believe has mastered the art of slice of life.  And no, we won't be talking about your Howl’s Moving Castle’s, or your Ponyo’s. 

Screenrant nails it: these slice of life movies “make the mundane feel magical.” It almost feels as if I’m going through the character’s physical and emotional journey along with them, watching from a third person’s view. These movies use the same components– score, CGI, plot twists, yet to the viewer they seem more lifelike; they can influence the viewer to feel the same bubbly happiness and gut-wrenching sadness as the characters. So riddle me this: how can these movies achieve double the emotional effect than their explosive counterparts with roughly a quarter of the budget?

Studio Ghibli has been releasing movies since the late 1900s, and to this day (mind my bias) remains one of the only movie studios that consistently puts out quality work– visually, musically, and emotionally. While important, we’re not here today to talk about music, or even art. We’re here for the goods– the plot. And the secret ingredient? Read and find out!

Western story structure often consists of 5 main components: exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution. The idea of a “hero's journey” is often emphasized in these movies, centered around defeating an overarching antagonist to find inner peace. The antagonist itself is often tied strongly with the conflict, like the vice principal in Breakfast Club. Remove him from the story, and the plot essentially unravels– detention over. On the other hand, Ghibli movies do a good job of separating the “antagonist”(if there even is one) from the plot. If you take Lady Eboshi out of Princess Mononoke, the plot is still, for the most part, intact. Ashitaka still has to find a way to lift the curse on his arm and save the forest from human war. This separation gives the main character a lot more flexibility concerning the plot line, as their motives and actions are not necessarily governed by the antagonist like some otherworldly deity. A residual effect to this is that the motive then feels much more believable and real, like the character actually wants to do it. Because of this, Ghibli movies don’t tend to follow the normal 5 component story–the story can exposition dump, climax, or build tension whenever it likes.

 Of course, Lady Eboshi is still a driving force to the plot– that is to say, elements can be used, but they do not necessarily need to be to make a good story. Ironically, the antagonist in these movies often acts to support the protagonist’s motives rather than directly oppose them. Lady Eboshi acts with very obvious negative intent throughout the movie, but it is never directed at Ashitaka, the main protagonist. In fact, for most of the movie, they don’t even cross paths, with much of the middle of the movie focusing on Lady Eboshi’s preparations for war. The antagonist’s defeat doesn’t even result in the conclusion of the protagonist's character arc–humans are still at war and the forest is still dying. The story continues, with or without the antagonist. 

Conflict is arguably the most central part to a good story–I mean it’s the reason anything starts in the first place. The West is dominated with the notion that the resolution of a conflict needs to result in a massive shift in mindset, either for the protagonist, antagonist, or both. But how about a secret fourth option: neither? Ghibli movies often end with little to no change in mindset in both parties. At the conclusion of Princess Mononoke, it seems San is the only character that goes through any significant character growth, having discovered trust towards humans. Ashitaka and Lady Eboshi, the main opposing parties, remain relatively unchanged in their desire, yet this doesn’t take away from the plot. Why? Because the conflict feels real. Tell me, would Breakfast Club have ended the same way it ended if no one changed their mindset? The answer is almost a little silly. The west often emphasizes this concept of character development, and its effect—- if the conflict isn’t strong enough. In Breakfast Club, the only thing keeping the fated 5 together is… detention and boredom. Clearly not the strongest, yet this film is still widely regarded as a cinematic masterpiece( and frankly, it is)! But what if it was reversed? A Whisper of the Heart tells the story of 2 protagonists with very simple motivations— write a novel and become a violin maker. At first glance, this may seem boring and drawn out. However, the movie runs from start to finish without me or the protagonists ever questioning their desire. While simple, I think that is the strength of Ghibli conflicts— they’re believable. Much more relatable than the world ending, long term conflicts at least. The protagonists don’t want to be world class or popular in school—they just want to be proud of their work… just once. That’s the beauty of these films: you can root for these characters and cheer them on, and when they finally accomplish them, you’re almost as happy as they are. That’s what sets them apart from their flashy, western counterparts: there isn’t always some pressing moral conflict to solve. In Ghibli movies, nothing is so black and white– they acknowledge that each person has their own motives, desires, and mindsets. Ghibli movies don’t just live in these moral gray areas, they thrive in them.  

A consequence to this type of story structure is that the movie often seems to end abruptly. A Whisper of the Heart ends abruptly once the main characters are reunited, and Kiki’s Delivery Service ends after Kiki sends a letter home to her parents. We never see their goals come to fruition, yet who almost knows for certain that they will. Why? Well, these films recognize that goals take time, and they often end after a major turning point in the story for the character. Shizuku realizes that she’s capable of writing her novel and Kiki realizes that she’s happy with her delivery service. This makes the movie feel like a glimpse into the character’s lives, and because of that, it doesn’t feel like just a retelling.Instead, it’s a reliving. It makes them seem like a distant friend that you want to catch up with. Their futures aren’t in anyone’s hands but their own, and that’s the beauty of it. 

So next time you’re feeling down and about, or if you’re just hungry for a life lesson, just grab a slice of life and dig in.