The Boy and the Heron Parent Guide

Following his mother’s death in a Tokyo fire, Mahito Maki (Luca Padovan) and his father Shoichi (Christian Bale) move out to the country. Concerned by the increasing dangers of the Second World War, for which his business manufactures aircraft components, Shoichi also wants to live with his new wife Natsuko (Gemma Chan).

As Mahito struggles to adapt to his new rural life, more changes arrive in the form of a strange Grey Heron (Robert Pattison). The Heron tells Mahito that his mother is still alive, hiding in a mysterious tower built on a secluded area of the property. When Natsuko goes missing in the area, Mahito sets out to find her – and, hopefully, his mother. Once he sets foot in the tower, though, Mahito discovers that a talking heron is far from the strangest thing he’ll encounter.

Western audiences tend to assume that animated films are made for children. While that is broadly true of Western media, the same sentiment is not shared in Japan. Along with several other Studio Ghibli films, The Boy and the Heron doesn’t preclude younger viewers, but they are likely to miss some of the thematic complexities or visual abstractions upon which the film depends. There are scenes of blood, violence, and peril which make this production unsuitable for young or sensitive audiences, but older children should be alright – provided they can keep up with the plot.

Like all of Hayao Miyazaki’s work, this film is gorgeous, teeming with the life, charm, and personality endemic to Studio Ghibli productions. Every frame practically sings with detail and color, each one another strand in the tapestry of the story. The detailed design is backed up with an unreasonably good English voice cast – the version I saw had the English dub track, although I’m sure the film is equally appealing in the original with subtitles.

I would caution viewers that, despite its overall excellence, this movie is not much interested in explaining itself in deep detail. It presents a magical, transportive adventure, and it wants you to think for yourself about what, if anything, Mahito learns on his journey through the rabbit-hole. On the scale of Ghibli movie relatability, this isn’t as difficult as, say, Princess Mononoke, but it also isn’t going to give you the clear-cut narrative simplicity of The Wind Rises, either. Think Spirited Away – an incredible journey with unimaginable risks, and some complex themes woven throughout.