#isao-takahata — Public Fediverse posts on home.social

Anime & Manga Media Monitor @[email protected] · 2026-06-04 · 06:00 UTC

SRF | Wie die Schweiz dank „Heidi“ in Japan bekannt wurde
https://www.srf.ch/kultur/film-serien/ausstellung-zu-isao-takahata-der-mann-der-heidi-nach-japan-brachte

#AudioMMM #Lausanne #Heidi #IsaoTakahata #HayaoMiyazaki #StudioGhibli #Ghibli #アルプスの少女ハイジ #高畑勲 #宮崎駿 #Anime

#audiommm #lausanne #heidi #isaotakahata #hayaomiyazaki #studioghibli

:awesome:🐦‍🔥nemo™🐦‍⬛ 🇺🇦🍉 @[email protected] · 2026-06-03 · 21:03 UTC

Isao Takahata machte mit der TV‑Serie «Heidi» in den 1970er‑Jahren die Schweiz in japanischen Wohnstuben bekannt 🇯🇵🇨🇭. Die Ausstellung im mudac Lausanne feiert sein Werk: Bilder, Skizzen und die Verbindung zum Westen 🎨🎞️. Mehr: https://www.srf.ch/kultur/film-serien/ausstellung-zu-isao-takahata-der-mann-der-heidi-nach-japan-brachte #Heidi #IsaoTakahata #mudac #Animation

#animation #mudac #isaotakahata #heidi

:awesome:🐦‍🔥nemo™🐦‍⬛ 🇺🇦🍉 @[email protected] · 2026-06-03 · 21:03 UTC

Isao Takahata machte mit der TV‑Serie «Heidi» in den 1970er‑Jahren die Schweiz in japanischen Wohnstuben bekannt 🇯🇵🇨🇭. Die Ausstellung im mudac Lausanne feiert sein Werk: Bilder, Skizzen und die Verbindung zum Westen 🎨🎞️. Mehr: https://www.srf.ch/kultur/film-serien/ausstellung-zu-isao-takahata-der-mann-der-heidi-nach-japan-brachte #Heidi #IsaoTakahata #mudac #Animation

#animation #mudac #isaotakahata #heidi

:awesome:🐦‍🔥nemo™🐦‍⬛ 🇺🇦🍉 @[email protected] · 2026-06-03 · 21:03 UTC

Isao Takahata machte mit der TV‑Serie «Heidi» in den 1970er‑Jahren die Schweiz in japanischen Wohnstuben bekannt 🇯🇵🇨🇭. Die Ausstellung im mudac Lausanne feiert sein Werk: Bilder, Skizzen und die Verbindung zum Westen 🎨🎞️. Mehr: https://www.srf.ch/kultur/film-serien/ausstellung-zu-isao-takahata-der-mann-der-heidi-nach-japan-brachte #Heidi #IsaoTakahata #mudac #Animation

#animation #mudac #isaotakahata #heidi

:awesome:🐦‍🔥nemo™🐦‍⬛ 🇺🇦🍉 @nemo · 2026-06-03 · 21:03 UTC

Isao Takahata machte mit der TV‑Serie «Heidi» in den 1970er‑Jahren die Schweiz in japanischen Wohnstuben bekannt 🇯🇵🇨🇭. Die Ausstellung im mudac Lausanne feiert sein Werk: Bilder, Skizzen und die Verbindung zum Westen 🎨🎞️. Mehr: https://www.srf.ch/kultur/film-serien/ausstellung-zu-isao-takahata-der-mann-der-heidi-nach-japan-brachte #Heidi #IsaoTakahata #mudac #Animation

#animation #mudac #isaotakahata #heidi

:awesome:🐦‍🔥nemo™🐦‍⬛ 🇺🇦🍉 @[email protected] · 2026-06-03 · 21:03 UTC

Isao Takahata machte mit der TV‑Serie «Heidi» in den 1970er‑Jahren die Schweiz in japanischen Wohnstuben bekannt 🇯🇵🇨🇭. Die Ausstellung im mudac Lausanne feiert sein Werk: Bilder, Skizzen und die Verbindung zum Westen 🎨🎞️. Mehr: https://www.srf.ch/kultur/film-serien/ausstellung-zu-isao-takahata-der-mann-der-heidi-nach-japan-brachte #Heidi #IsaoTakahata #mudac #Animation

#animation #mudac #isaotakahata #heidi

We Have Issues @[email protected] · 2026-05-25 · 09:14 UTC

Only Yesterday (1991) – Review

Just because your motion picture is made up of thousands upon thousands of individually hand-drawn pictures, it doesn’t mean you can’t be subtle with the medium you’re working in. While various purveyors of animation – from Walt Disney to Ralph Bakshi to Don Bluth to Katsuhiro Otomo – all utilised the artform to realise everything from lush, impossible fantasy kingdoms to dystopian futures, leave it to Studio Ghibli’s Isao Takahata to do something entirely different.
There’s not many people who would think to use animation to tell a straight drama without a single flying dragon or talking animal in sight, but anyone who saw Takahata’s emotion searing Grave Of The Fireflies (aka. one of the saddest films in the world) already knew that the director didn’t approach the medium in a way quite unlike anybody else. Harnessing numerous animators and countless drawings, Only Yesterday is a relatively simple story about a twenty seven year-old woman thinking back to her childhood as she embarks on a farming holiday, but the emotions it manages to evoke proves just how magical animation can be – even when it isn’t overtly featuring magic.

The year is 1982 and we meet umarried office worker Taeko Okajima as she’s about to go on a two week vacation to the rural countryside in order to help her sister’s in-laws with their safflower harvest. As she leaves Tokyo to Yamagata on a sleeper train she starts experiencing vivid memories from when she was a ten year-old girl back in 1966 that bring back powerful emotions from that time. The youngest of three, Taeko was brought up by somewhat flinty mother and a near-monosylabic father who often struggled with some of their daughter’s various shortcomings. However, as Taeko’s memories come thick and fast, we’re treated to a bunch of experiences that not only stuck with her with absolutely clarity, but seemingly helped make her the woman she would grow up to be. But who is that, exactly?
As she recalls such moments as the first time her family tried pineapple, her baseball playing first crush and the dreaded onset of her first period, Taeko discovers a sort of peace while working on a farm that she rarely seems to find in the city. She’s also starts to form something of a bond with her brother-in-law’s second cousin, Toshio, who passionately believes in people being more in tune with nature as it mutually benefits both. However as the memories keep on coming, we also see the more painful memories come to the fore such as the first time she was slapped by her father as punishment, her inability to grasp maths and a budding love of acting getting quashed by life constantly intervening.
But what does all this mean? Is there a reason her mind keeps her awash with wave after wave of nostalgia both good and bad? Could it be that her holiday has unlocked some yearning within her that city life just can’t sate?

If anyone could (or should) be brought forward as a shining example why animation should be regarded as an art form thar deserves respect, it’s Isao Takahata. By this point in the history of Studio Ghibli, both he and Hayao Miyazaki had fallen into something of a perfect rhythm with Miyazaki delivering achingly poignant flights of fancy that often felt like balm for the soul. However, while his colleague was effortlessly delivering groundbreaking fantasy, Takahata’s wheelhouse seemed to be delving into much more personal affairs, choosing not to hide behind fantastical creatures and mythical world but rather rubbing our face in extraordinarily human stories. After witnessing his previous movie – the unrelentingly moving story of two children slowly dying of malnutrition after the war – I was a little hesitant to approach Only Yesterday, if only because I was understandably gunshy about ugly crying my way through another film. However, after making it through, I found myself once again stunned at how these Ghibli guys know how to write girls so well.
When stripped down to the bare bones, Takahata is expertly detailing the growing divide that occurs as we gradually creep into adulthood that often results in some sort of spiritual upheaval as the added pressures of life make us long for the people we use to be. As Taeko experiences the simple but rewarding pleasures of tending the land, she lists all the growing pains and little traumas that occur that present a billion questions of what might have been. Be it the numerous blush-inducing issues that plague her that stretch from her inability to speak to a crush that rumour suggests actually likes her, to the horror stricken panic of having any of the boys think she’s skipping P.E. because she may be her period (thirty years before Pixar’s Turning Red, by the way), you feel them as if you’ve experienced them yourself – which is quite the feat considering I’m a white male.

Also creating little, but devestating wounds are the various cuts inflicted by a heavy hand or a careless word of a relative. The only time she’s slapped by her father is because of the shame she inadvertently causes by walking outside without shoes (a sign of poverty in post-war Japan) and her inability to grasp fractions leads her to hearing her mother describe her as “not normal” to her sisters.
But as ripe for drama as this all is, you may be wondering why Isao Takahata bothered to render any of this with countless painstakingly drawn drawings at all and simply just make a normal damn film – well if the director has a deft touch with the story, wait until you see the subtle, yet completely beguiling, tricks he does with the animation. While the sections of the film that take place in the 80s have a more brightly coloured and realistic look about them (it’s initially odd to see Anime characters with nasolabial folds), all the memories of the 60s look less realistic, with the edges of the frame kitted out withba white haze as if we really are viewing these events through the gauze of memory. Some may still wonder while you’d employ a small army of animators to simply draw endless frames of people talking, but the subtly of the “acting” is as superb as the voice work. And then, just as I let my guard down, Studio Ghibli nails me square in the feels once again with a sequence that see Taeko galvanised into making a momentous decision thanks to the memories of herself and her childhood friends urging her to make the leap of faith.

While Takahata’s insistence of only deviating from reality when the story truly calls for it may leave seekers of more fantastical Ghibli fare yearning for a big fuzzy animal or a flying sequence, Only Yesterday remains an impressively controlled piece of work that still manages to yank on our heart strings while mercifully leaving its youthful cast alive this time – seriously guys, Grave Of The Fireflies really did a number on me. Still, watching someone try to find their place in a modern world that proves to be an ill fit for them is still plenty emotional enough – for I too find pineapples a letdown and am randomly haunted by memories of my childhood…
🌟🌟🌟🌟

#1990s #1991 #Animation #Anime #Drama #FilmReview #IsaoTakahata #Japan #MikiImai #OnlyYesterday #StudioGhibli #ToshiroYanagiba #YokoHonna

#1990s #animation #anime #drama #filmreview #isaotakahata

We Have Issues @[email protected] · 2026-05-25 · 09:14 UTC

Only Yesterday (1991) – Review

Just because your motion picture is made up of thousands upon thousands of individually hand-drawn pictures, it doesn’t mean you can’t be subtle with the medium you’re working in. While various purveyors of animation – from Walt Disney to Ralph Bakshi to Don Bluth to Katsuhiro Otomo – all utilised the artform to realise everything from lush, impossible fantasy kingdoms to dystopian futures, leave it to Studio Ghibli’s Isao Takahata to do something entirely different.
There’s not many people who would think to use animation to tell a straight drama without a single flying dragon or talking animal in sight, but anyone who saw Takahata’s emotion searing Grave Of The Fireflies (aka. one of the saddest films in the world) already knew that the director didn’t approach the medium in a way quite unlike anybody else. Harnessing numerous animators and countless drawings, Only Yesterday is a relatively simple story about a twenty seven year-old woman thinking back to her childhood as she embarks on a farming holiday, but the emotions it manages to evoke proves just how magical animation can be – even when it isn’t overtly featuring magic.

The year is 1982 and we meet umarried office worker Taeko Okajima as she’s about to go on a two week vacation to the rural countryside in order to help her sister’s in-laws with their safflower harvest. As she leaves Tokyo to Yamagata on a sleeper train she starts experiencing vivid memories from when she was a ten year-old girl back in 1966 that bring back powerful emotions from that time. The youngest of three, Taeko was brought up by somewhat flinty mother and a near-monosylabic father who often struggled with some of their daughter’s various shortcomings. However, as Taeko’s memories come thick and fast, we’re treated to a bunch of experiences that not only stuck with her with absolutely clarity, but seemingly helped make her the woman she would grow up to be. But who is that, exactly?
As she recalls such moments as the first time her family tried pineapple, her baseball playing first crush and the dreaded onset of her first period, Taeko discovers a sort of peace while working on a farm that she rarely seems to find in the city. She’s also starts to form something of a bond with her brother-in-law’s second cousin, Toshio, who passionately believes in people being more in tune with nature as it mutually benefits both. However as the memories keep on coming, we also see the more painful memories come to the fore such as the first time she was slapped by her father as punishment, her inability to grasp maths and a budding love of acting getting quashed by life constantly intervening.
But what does all this mean? Is there a reason her mind keeps her awash with wave after wave of nostalgia both good and bad? Could it be that her holiday has unlocked some yearning within her that city life just can’t sate?

If anyone could (or should) be brought forward as a shining example why animation should be regarded as an art form thar deserves respect, it’s Isao Takahata. By this point in the history of Studio Ghibli, both he and Hayao Miyazaki had fallen into something of a perfect rhythm with Miyazaki delivering achingly poignant flights of fancy that often felt like balm for the soul. However, while his colleague was effortlessly delivering groundbreaking fantasy, Takahata’s wheelhouse seemed to be delving into much more personal affairs, choosing not to hide behind fantastical creatures and mythical world but rather rubbing our face in extraordinarily human stories. After witnessing his previous movie – the unrelentingly moving story of two children slowly dying of malnutrition after the war – I was a little hesitant to approach Only Yesterday, if only because I was understandably gunshy about ugly crying my way through another film. However, after making it through, I found myself once again stunned at how these Ghibli guys know how to write girls so well.
When stripped down to the bare bones, Takahata is expertly detailing the growing divide that occurs as we gradually creep into adulthood that often results in some sort of spiritual upheaval as the added pressures of life make us long for the people we use to be. As Taeko experiences the simple but rewarding pleasures of tending the land, she lists all the growing pains and little traumas that occur that present a billion questions of what might have been. Be it the numerous blush-inducing issues that plague her that stretch from her inability to speak to a crush that rumour suggests actually likes her, to the horror stricken panic of having any of the boys think she’s skipping P.E. because she may be her period (thirty years before Pixar’s Turning Red, by the way), you feel them as if you’ve experienced them yourself – which is quite the feat considering I’m a white male.

Also creating little, but devestating wounds are the various cuts inflicted by a heavy hand or a careless word of a relative. The only time she’s slapped by her father is because of the shame she inadvertently causes by walking outside without shoes (a sign of poverty in post-war Japan) and her inability to grasp fractions leads her to hearing her mother describe her as “not normal” to her sisters.
But as ripe for drama as this all is, you may be wondering why Isao Takahata bothered to render any of this with countless painstakingly drawn drawings at all and simply just make a normal damn film – well if the director has a deft touch with the story, wait until you see the subtle, yet completely beguiling, tricks he does with the animation. While the sections of the film that take place in the 80s have a more brightly coloured and realistic look about them (it’s initially odd to see Anime characters with nasolabial folds), all the memories of the 60s look less realistic, with the edges of the frame kitted out withba white haze as if we really are viewing these events through the gauze of memory. Some may still wonder while you’d employ a small army of animators to simply draw endless frames of people talking, but the subtly of the “acting” is as superb as the voice work. And then, just as I let my guard down, Studio Ghibli nails me square in the feels once again with a sequence that see Taeko galvanised into making a momentous decision thanks to the memories of herself and her childhood friends urging her to make the leap of faith.

While Takahata’s insistence of only deviating from reality when the story truly calls for it may leave seekers of more fantastical Ghibli fare yearning for a big fuzzy animal or a flying sequence, Only Yesterday remains an impressively controlled piece of work that still manages to yank on our heart strings while mercifully leaving its youthful cast alive this time – seriously guys, Grave Of The Fireflies really did a number on me. Still, watching someone try to find their place in a modern world that proves to be an ill fit for them is still plenty emotional enough – for I too find pineapples a letdown and am randomly haunted by memories of my childhood…
🌟🌟🌟🌟

#1990s #1991 #Animation #Anime #Drama #FilmReview #IsaoTakahata #Japan #MikiImai #OnlyYesterday #StudioGhibli #ToshiroYanagiba #YokoHonna

#1990s #animation #anime #drama #filmreview #isaotakahata

We Have Issues @[email protected] · 2026-05-25 · 09:14 UTC

Only Yesterday (1991) – Review

Just because your motion picture is made up of thousands upon thousands of individually hand-drawn pictures, it doesn’t mean you can’t be subtle with the medium you’re working in. While various purveyors of animation – from Walt Disney to Ralph Bakshi to Don Bluth to Katsuhiro Otomo – all utilised the artform to realise everything from lush, impossible fantasy kingdoms to dystopian futures, leave it to Studio Ghibli’s Isao Takahata to do something entirely different.
There’s not many people who would think to use animation to tell a straight drama without a single flying dragon or talking animal in sight, but anyone who saw Takahata’s emotion searing Grave Of The Fireflies (aka. one of the saddest films in the world) already knew that the director didn’t approach the medium in a way quite unlike anybody else. Harnessing numerous animators and countless drawings, Only Yesterday is a relatively simple story about a twenty seven year-old woman thinking back to her childhood as she embarks on a farming holiday, but the emotions it manages to evoke proves just how magical animation can be – even when it isn’t overtly featuring magic.

The year is 1982 and we meet umarried office worker Taeko Okajima as she’s about to go on a two week vacation to the rural countryside in order to help her sister’s in-laws with their safflower harvest. As she leaves Tokyo to Yamagata on a sleeper train she starts experiencing vivid memories from when she was a ten year-old girl back in 1966 that bring back powerful emotions from that time. The youngest of three, Taeko was brought up by somewhat flinty mother and a near-monosylabic father who often struggled with some of their daughter’s various shortcomings. However, as Taeko’s memories come thick and fast, we’re treated to a bunch of experiences that not only stuck with her with absolutely clarity, but seemingly helped make her the woman she would grow up to be. But who is that, exactly?
As she recalls such moments as the first time her family tried pineapple, her baseball playing first crush and the dreaded onset of her first period, Taeko discovers a sort of peace while working on a farm that she rarely seems to find in the city. She’s also starts to form something of a bond with her brother-in-law’s second cousin, Toshio, who passionately believes in people being more in tune with nature as it mutually benefits both. However as the memories keep on coming, we also see the more painful memories come to the fore such as the first time she was slapped by her father as punishment, her inability to grasp maths and a budding love of acting getting quashed by life constantly intervening.
But what does all this mean? Is there a reason her mind keeps her awash with wave after wave of nostalgia both good and bad? Could it be that her holiday has unlocked some yearning within her that city life just can’t sate?

If anyone could (or should) be brought forward as a shining example why animation should be regarded as an art form thar deserves respect, it’s Isao Takahata. By this point in the history of Studio Ghibli, both he and Hayao Miyazaki had fallen into something of a perfect rhythm with Miyazaki delivering achingly poignant flights of fancy that often felt like balm for the soul. However, while his colleague was effortlessly delivering groundbreaking fantasy, Takahata’s wheelhouse seemed to be delving into much more personal affairs, choosing not to hide behind fantastical creatures and mythical world but rather rubbing our face in extraordinarily human stories. After witnessing his previous movie – the unrelentingly moving story of two children slowly dying of malnutrition after the war – I was a little hesitant to approach Only Yesterday, if only because I was understandably gunshy about ugly crying my way through another film. However, after making it through, I found myself once again stunned at how these Ghibli guys know how to write girls so well.
When stripped down to the bare bones, Takahata is expertly detailing the growing divide that occurs as we gradually creep into adulthood that often results in some sort of spiritual upheaval as the added pressures of life make us long for the people we use to be. As Taeko experiences the simple but rewarding pleasures of tending the land, she lists all the growing pains and little traumas that occur that present a billion questions of what might have been. Be it the numerous blush-inducing issues that plague her that stretch from her inability to speak to a crush that rumour suggests actually likes her, to the horror stricken panic of having any of the boys think she’s skipping P.E. because she may be her period (thirty years before Pixar’s Turning Red, by the way), you feel them as if you’ve experienced them yourself – which is quite the feat considering I’m a white male.

Also creating little, but devestating wounds are the various cuts inflicted by a heavy hand or a careless word of a relative. The only time she’s slapped by her father is because of the shame she inadvertently causes by walking outside without shoes (a sign of poverty in post-war Japan) and her inability to grasp fractions leads her to hearing her mother describe her as “not normal” to her sisters.
But as ripe for drama as this all is, you may be wondering why Isao Takahata bothered to render any of this with countless painstakingly drawn drawings at all and simply just make a normal damn film – well if the director has a deft touch with the story, wait until you see the subtle, yet completely beguiling, tricks he does with the animation. While the sections of the film that take place in the 80s have a more brightly coloured and realistic look about them (it’s initially odd to see Anime characters with nasolabial folds), all the memories of the 60s look less realistic, with the edges of the frame kitted out withba white haze as if we really are viewing these events through the gauze of memory. Some may still wonder while you’d employ a small army of animators to simply draw endless frames of people talking, but the subtly of the “acting” is as superb as the voice work. And then, just as I let my guard down, Studio Ghibli nails me square in the feels once again with a sequence that see Taeko galvanised into making a momentous decision thanks to the memories of herself and her childhood friends urging her to make the leap of faith.

While Takahata’s insistence of only deviating from reality when the story truly calls for it may leave seekers of more fantastical Ghibli fare yearning for a big fuzzy animal or a flying sequence, Only Yesterday remains an impressively controlled piece of work that still manages to yank on our heart strings while mercifully leaving its youthful cast alive this time – seriously guys, Grave Of The Fireflies really did a number on me. Still, watching someone try to find their place in a modern world that proves to be an ill fit for them is still plenty emotional enough – for I too find pineapples a letdown and am randomly haunted by memories of my childhood…
🌟🌟🌟🌟

#1990s #1991 #Animation #Anime #Drama #FilmReview #IsaoTakahata #Japan #MikiImai #OnlyYesterday #StudioGhibli #ToshiroYanagiba #YokoHonna

#1990s #animation #anime #drama #filmreview #isaotakahata

We Have Issues @[email protected] · 2026-05-25 · 09:14 UTC

Only Yesterday (1991) – Review

Just because your motion picture is made up of thousands upon thousands of individually hand-drawn pictures, it doesn’t mean you can’t be subtle with the medium you’re working in. While various purveyors of animation – from Walt Disney to Ralph Bakshi to Don Bluth to Katsuhiro Otomo – all utilised the artform to realise everything from lush, impossible fantasy kingdoms to dystopian futures, leave it to Studio Ghibli’s Isao Takahata to do something entirely different.
There’s not many people who would think to use animation to tell a straight drama without a single flying dragon or talking animal in sight, but anyone who saw Takahata’s emotion searing Grave Of The Fireflies (aka. one of the saddest films in the world) already knew that the director didn’t approach the medium in a way quite unlike anybody else. Harnessing numerous animators and countless drawings, Only Yesterday is a relatively simple story about a twenty seven year-old woman thinking back to her childhood as she embarks on a farming holiday, but the emotions it manages to evoke proves just how magical animation can be – even when it isn’t overtly featuring magic.

The year is 1982 and we meet umarried office worker Taeko Okajima as she’s about to go on a two week vacation to the rural countryside in order to help her sister’s in-laws with their safflower harvest. As she leaves Tokyo to Yamagata on a sleeper train she starts experiencing vivid memories from when she was a ten year-old girl back in 1966 that bring back powerful emotions from that time. The youngest of three, Taeko was brought up by somewhat flinty mother and a near-monosylabic father who often struggled with some of their daughter’s various shortcomings. However, as Taeko’s memories come thick and fast, we’re treated to a bunch of experiences that not only stuck with her with absolutely clarity, but seemingly helped make her the woman she would grow up to be. But who is that, exactly?
As she recalls such moments as the first time her family tried pineapple, her baseball playing first crush and the dreaded onset of her first period, Taeko discovers a sort of peace while working on a farm that she rarely seems to find in the city. She’s also starts to form something of a bond with her brother-in-law’s second cousin, Toshio, who passionately believes in people being more in tune with nature as it mutually benefits both. However as the memories keep on coming, we also see the more painful memories come to the fore such as the first time she was slapped by her father as punishment, her inability to grasp maths and a budding love of acting getting quashed by life constantly intervening.
But what does all this mean? Is there a reason her mind keeps her awash with wave after wave of nostalgia both good and bad? Could it be that her holiday has unlocked some yearning within her that city life just can’t sate?

If anyone could (or should) be brought forward as a shining example why animation should be regarded as an art form thar deserves respect, it’s Isao Takahata. By this point in the history of Studio Ghibli, both he and Hayao Miyazaki had fallen into something of a perfect rhythm with Miyazaki delivering achingly poignant flights of fancy that often felt like balm for the soul. However, while his colleague was effortlessly delivering groundbreaking fantasy, Takahata’s wheelhouse seemed to be delving into much more personal affairs, choosing not to hide behind fantastical creatures and mythical world but rather rubbing our face in extraordinarily human stories. After witnessing his previous movie – the unrelentingly moving story of two children slowly dying of malnutrition after the war – I was a little hesitant to approach Only Yesterday, if only because I was understandably gunshy about ugly crying my way through another film. However, after making it through, I found myself once again stunned at how these Ghibli guys know how to write girls so well.
When stripped down to the bare bones, Takahata is expertly detailing the growing divide that occurs as we gradually creep into adulthood that often results in some sort of spiritual upheaval as the added pressures of life make us long for the people we use to be. As Taeko experiences the simple but rewarding pleasures of tending the land, she lists all the growing pains and little traumas that occur that present a billion questions of what might have been. Be it the numerous blush-inducing issues that plague her that stretch from her inability to speak to a crush that rumour suggests actually likes her, to the horror stricken panic of having any of the boys think she’s skipping P.E. because she may be her period (thirty years before Pixar’s Turning Red, by the way), you feel them as if you’ve experienced them yourself – which is quite the feat considering I’m a white male.

Also creating little, but devestating wounds are the various cuts inflicted by a heavy hand or a careless word of a relative. The only time she’s slapped by her father is because of the shame she inadvertently causes by walking outside without shoes (a sign of poverty in post-war Japan) and her inability to grasp fractions leads her to hearing her mother describe her as “not normal” to her sisters.
But as ripe for drama as this all is, you may be wondering why Isao Takahata bothered to render any of this with countless painstakingly drawn drawings at all and simply just make a normal damn film – well if the director has a deft touch with the story, wait until you see the subtle, yet completely beguiling, tricks he does with the animation. While the sections of the film that take place in the 80s have a more brightly coloured and realistic look about them (it’s initially odd to see Anime characters with nasolabial folds), all the memories of the 60s look less realistic, with the edges of the frame kitted out withba white haze as if we really are viewing these events through the gauze of memory. Some may still wonder while you’d employ a small army of animators to simply draw endless frames of people talking, but the subtly of the “acting” is as superb as the voice work. And then, just as I let my guard down, Studio Ghibli nails me square in the feels once again with a sequence that see Taeko galvanised into making a momentous decision thanks to the memories of herself and her childhood friends urging her to make the leap of faith.

While Takahata’s insistence of only deviating from reality when the story truly calls for it may leave seekers of more fantastical Ghibli fare yearning for a big fuzzy animal or a flying sequence, Only Yesterday remains an impressively controlled piece of work that still manages to yank on our heart strings while mercifully leaving its youthful cast alive this time – seriously guys, Grave Of The Fireflies really did a number on me. Still, watching someone try to find their place in a modern world that proves to be an ill fit for them is still plenty emotional enough – for I too find pineapples a letdown and am randomly haunted by memories of my childhood…
🌟🌟🌟🌟

#1990s #1991 #Animation #Anime #Drama #FilmReview #IsaoTakahata #Japan #MikiImai #OnlyYesterday #StudioGhibli #ToshiroYanagiba #YokoHonna

#yokohonna #toshiroyanagiba #studioghibli #onlyyesterday #mikiimai #japan

We Have Issues @[email protected] · 2026-05-25 · 09:14 UTC

Only Yesterday (1991) – Review

Just because your motion picture is made up of thousands upon thousands of individually hand-drawn pictures, it doesn’t mean you can’t be subtle with the medium you’re working in. While various purveyors of animation – from Walt Disney to Ralph Bakshi to Don Bluth to Katsuhiro Otomo – all utilised the artform to realise everything from lush, impossible fantasy kingdoms to dystopian futures, leave it to Studio Ghibli’s Isao Takahata to do something entirely different.
There’s not many people who would think to use animation to tell a straight drama without a single flying dragon or talking animal in sight, but anyone who saw Takahata’s emotion searing Grave Of The Fireflies (aka. one of the saddest films in the world) already knew that the director didn’t approach the medium in a way quite unlike anybody else. Harnessing numerous animators and countless drawings, Only Yesterday is a relatively simple story about a twenty seven year-old woman thinking back to her childhood as she embarks on a farming holiday, but the emotions it manages to evoke proves just how magical animation can be – even when it isn’t overtly featuring magic.

The year is 1982 and we meet umarried office worker Taeko Okajima as she’s about to go on a two week vacation to the rural countryside in order to help her sister’s in-laws with their safflower harvest. As she leaves Tokyo to Yamagata on a sleeper train she starts experiencing vivid memories from when she was a ten year-old girl back in 1966 that bring back powerful emotions from that time. The youngest of three, Taeko was brought up by somewhat flinty mother and a near-monosylabic father who often struggled with some of their daughter’s various shortcomings. However, as Taeko’s memories come thick and fast, we’re treated to a bunch of experiences that not only stuck with her with absolutely clarity, but seemingly helped make her the woman she would grow up to be. But who is that, exactly?
As she recalls such moments as the first time her family tried pineapple, her baseball playing first crush and the dreaded onset of her first period, Taeko discovers a sort of peace while working on a farm that she rarely seems to find in the city. She’s also starts to form something of a bond with her brother-in-law’s second cousin, Toshio, who passionately believes in people being more in tune with nature as it mutually benefits both. However as the memories keep on coming, we also see the more painful memories come to the fore such as the first time she was slapped by her father as punishment, her inability to grasp maths and a budding love of acting getting quashed by life constantly intervening.
But what does all this mean? Is there a reason her mind keeps her awash with wave after wave of nostalgia both good and bad? Could it be that her holiday has unlocked some yearning within her that city life just can’t sate?

If anyone could (or should) be brought forward as a shining example why animation should be regarded as an art form thar deserves respect, it’s Isao Takahata. By this point in the history of Studio Ghibli, both he and Hayao Miyazaki had fallen into something of a perfect rhythm with Miyazaki delivering achingly poignant flights of fancy that often felt like balm for the soul. However, while his colleague was effortlessly delivering groundbreaking fantasy, Takahata’s wheelhouse seemed to be delving into much more personal affairs, choosing not to hide behind fantastical creatures and mythical world but rather rubbing our face in extraordinarily human stories. After witnessing his previous movie – the unrelentingly moving story of two children slowly dying of malnutrition after the war – I was a little hesitant to approach Only Yesterday, if only because I was understandably gunshy about ugly crying my way through another film. However, after making it through, I found myself once again stunned at how these Ghibli guys know how to write girls so well.
When stripped down to the bare bones, Takahata is expertly detailing the growing divide that occurs as we gradually creep into adulthood that often results in some sort of spiritual upheaval as the added pressures of life make us long for the people we use to be. As Taeko experiences the simple but rewarding pleasures of tending the land, she lists all the growing pains and little traumas that occur that present a billion questions of what might have been. Be it the numerous blush-inducing issues that plague her that stretch from her inability to speak to a crush that rumour suggests actually likes her, to the horror stricken panic of having any of the boys think she’s skipping P.E. because she may be her period (thirty years before Pixar’s Turning Red, by the way), you feel them as if you’ve experienced them yourself – which is quite the feat considering I’m a white male.

Also creating little, but devestating wounds are the various cuts inflicted by a heavy hand or a careless word of a relative. The only time she’s slapped by her father is because of the shame she inadvertently causes by walking outside without shoes (a sign of poverty in post-war Japan) and her inability to grasp fractions leads her to hearing her mother describe her as “not normal” to her sisters.
But as ripe for drama as this all is, you may be wondering why Isao Takahata bothered to render any of this with countless painstakingly drawn drawings at all and simply just make a normal damn film – well if the director has a deft touch with the story, wait until you see the subtle, yet completely beguiling, tricks he does with the animation. While the sections of the film that take place in the 80s have a more brightly coloured and realistic look about them (it’s initially odd to see Anime characters with nasolabial folds), all the memories of the 60s look less realistic, with the edges of the frame kitted out withba white haze as if we really are viewing these events through the gauze of memory. Some may still wonder while you’d employ a small army of animators to simply draw endless frames of people talking, but the subtly of the “acting” is as superb as the voice work. And then, just as I let my guard down, Studio Ghibli nails me square in the feels once again with a sequence that see Taeko galvanised into making a momentous decision thanks to the memories of herself and her childhood friends urging her to make the leap of faith.

While Takahata’s insistence of only deviating from reality when the story truly calls for it may leave seekers of more fantastical Ghibli fare yearning for a big fuzzy animal or a flying sequence, Only Yesterday remains an impressively controlled piece of work that still manages to yank on our heart strings while mercifully leaving its youthful cast alive this time – seriously guys, Grave Of The Fireflies really did a number on me. Still, watching someone try to find their place in a modern world that proves to be an ill fit for them is still plenty emotional enough – for I too find pineapples a letdown and am randomly haunted by memories of my childhood…
🌟🌟🌟🌟

#1990s #1991 #Animation #Anime #Drama #FilmReview #IsaoTakahata #Japan #MikiImai #OnlyYesterday #StudioGhibli #ToshiroYanagiba #YokoHonna

#1990s #animation #anime #drama #filmreview #isaotakahata

España @[email protected] · 2026-05-08 · 05:12 UTC

https://www.europesays.com/es/539471/ El Studio Ghibli confirma que ha recibido la noticia del Premio Princesa de Asturias #EFE #Entertainment #Entretenimiento #ES #España #HayaoMiyazaki #IsaoTakahata #NorteDeEspaña #PrincesaDeAsturias #Spain #Studio Ghibli #ToshioSuzuki

#toshiosuzuki #studio #spain #princesadeasturias #nortedeespana #isaotakahata

Inicio - teleSUR [Unofficial] @[email protected] · 2026-05-07 · 01:00 UTC

Studio Ghibli recibe Premio Princesa de Asturias de Comunicación y Humanidades

https://fed.brid.gy/r/https://www.telesurtv.net/studio-ghibli-premio-princesa-de-asturias/

#cultura #animacion #espana #hayaomiyazaki #isaotakahata #japon

We Have Issues @[email protected] · 2026-05-04 · 06:28 UTC

Grave Of The Fireflies (1988) – Review

In the realms of animated history, it’s become common knowledge that Pixar has an unerring ability to leech salty tears from from even the most jaded moviegoer as some devestating turn of events has us ugly-crying at the misfortune of a bereaved fish or a discarded toy. But while many of you may think the the pinnacle of weep inducing animation peaked with the opening ten minutes of Up, Studio Ghibli had already been responsible for one of the most devestating emotional gut-punches years earlier with the unfeasibly sad Grave Of The Fireflies.
While the lion’s share of Ghibli’s output at that time had been helmed by Hayao Miyazaki, for this sob-inducing opus, the Studio’s other leading light, Isao Takahata, stepped into the breach and something quite unlike anything released by this, or any other animation house at that time. Ground breaking is the least of the thing this movie will break as the house that gave us the unmitigated joy of My Neighbour Totoro proves that it can snap us just as easily.

It’s March of 1945 and droning American bombers pound the city of Kobe into fiery submission during the final days of the Pacific War. As rampant fire takes out the buildings not out and out obliterated, we meet fourteen year-old Seita and his young sister Setsuko, two children of an Imperial Japanese Navy Captain soon find themselves homeless when their home is claimed by the destruction. Worse yet, despite only seeing their mother only shortly before as she headed off to a shelter, it seems that she was badly burned in the attack and dies from her wounds before a hospital can be found to admit her.
Choosing to save the innocent Setsuko the pain of the news, Seita takes the burden onto himself and keeps the news from both his sister and his aunt, who is forced to take them in. While Seita managed to provide somewhat by scavenging some of his mother’s belongs when can be traded for rice, life with his aunt soon becomes awkward when she treats her two charges significantly worse than her own, immediate family, which leads to Seita making a fateful choice. Leaving home, the young duo pledge to try and survive on their own, despite the fact that you need to be part of a community for anyone to properly survive in such tight conditions.
Making their home in an abandoned bomb shelter, at first the children believe that they’ve found some sort of idyllic existence as they wash in the nearby river and live off the land. However, as their reserves start to dwindle and the realities of a fourteen year-old and his little sister living rough in post war Japan start to make themselves known, a playful life soon becomes a tragic struggle as Seita desperately looks for more ways to feed his rapidly weakening sibling.

While a lot of Studio Ghibli’s earlier works had used a fantasy setting to gently press an anti-war sentiment, here the studio chose not to hide behind alien bugs and complex flying contraptions in order to put a point across and instead delivered a movie set directly at a point in actual history giving them (and us) nowhere to hide. Based on a semi-autobiographical short story by Akiyuki Nosaka, Takahata had similar experiences during the war himself and thus the whole experience feels almost overwhelmingly personal. But while the anti-war message seems pretty cut and dry, the director has repeatedly denied this, instead stating that the repeated tragedies that befall the two children are truly caused by their subsequent isolation from society and social norms as no one seems willing to step in and help these two kids who are obviously going to die if they try to continue the way they’re going. Yes, the war has caused the destruction, but the inability of the survivors to accept anything other than the norm presented to them causes then to shun two children simply trying to survive their own way.
In many ways, there’s some parallels between this film and Takashi Yamazaki’s Godzilla Minus One as both not only feature a sense of life trying to persevere in the aftermath of war, but both feature an innocent, orphaned, impossibly pure young child utterly oblivious to the events around her (seriously, Setsuko and Akiko are practically identical). But while both movies show the painful hardship of trying to eek out an existence in such trying conditions, Grave Of The Fireflies doesn’t include a massive Kaiju to distract us from the yawning loss. In fact, in many circles, the film has been dubbed as one of, if not the saddest film ever made which pretty much clues you in to what eventually happens to our two young leads. In fact, I’d go as far to say that Grave Of The Fireflies is the perfect film foe those who believes that Raymond Briggs’ When The Wind Blows is far too upbeat.

The result is cinematic alchemy. Takahata constantly heaps on the sadness as war, death, society, malnutrition and a shitty aunt take their inexorable toll on two kids who only want to live. You could point a finger at Seita’s decision to leave their aunt’s care as a contributing factor, but on the other hand, he’s a fourteen year-old boy who thinks he’s doing what is right in unimaginable circumstances. Impressively, despite all the sorrow and trauma, Takahata focuses on the happy moments, letting the dread build up naturally in the background. The kids are enraptured by using fireflies to light up their shelter at night and Setsuko’s life is constantly enlivened whenever she gets to have one of their stash of fruit drops – but reality looms at virtually every moment and while the movie mostly takes a stance of childlike wonder, when real-life intrudes it’s nothing less than devestating.
The sight of Seita seeing his seared mother wrapped in bandages is legitimately horrifying, as is the matter-of-fact nature of her death and cremation while the young boy simply has to accept what’s going on. Similarly, watching the child be viciously beaten by a farmer after trying to steal sugar cane will no doubt have you loudly questioning why no one is helping an obviously starving child. Even news of Japanse surrendering comes to Seita too late as the sinking of the Japanese fleet means that he father probably died weeks ago without his children having a single clue. However, possibly Grave Of The Fireflies’ greatest trick is starting the film with Seita starving to death and both his and Setsuko’s bewildered looking ghosts are the ones who shepherd us through their agonisingly moving backstory.

An utter masterpiece that busies itself about emotionally crippling it’s audience right from the word go, Grave Of The Fireflies may not be a film I’ll return to anytime soon, but that because it’s so damn good at doubling you over with some of the saddest storytelling you’re even likely to experience. Miyazaki may be adept at creating worlds of fantastical wonder, but Takahata knows how to use realism to really hit us where it hurts. Stunning animation, flawless performances and a merciless dedication to bringing you your knee means that in the storied history of Studio Ghibli, it’s the fireflies that (for once) last the longest.
🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

#1980s #1988 #Animation #Anime #AyanoShiraishi #FilmReview #GraveOfTheFireflies #IsaoTakahata #Japan #StudioGhibli #TsutomuTatsumi #War #YoshikoShinohara

#yoshikoshinohara #war #tsutomutatsumi #studioghibli #japan #isaotakahata

Belgique @[email protected] · 2026-04-25 · 18:26 UTC

https://www.europesays.com/be-fr/86513/ Isao Takahata, cofondateur du studio d’animation Ghibli, à l’honneur du mudac #ArtsEtDivertissement #ArtsVisuels #BE #BEFr #Belgique #Belgium #Culture #Dessin #Divertissement #Entertainment #exposition #FilmD'animation #Films #HayaoMiyazaki #IndustrieCinématographique #IndustrieVidéoludique #IsaoTakahata #Movies #réalisateur #StudioGhibli

#studioghibli #realisateur #movies #isaotakahata #industrievideoludique #industriecinematographique

Suisse @[email protected] · 2026-04-25 · 15:26 UTC

https://www.europesays.com/ch-fr/104116/ Isao Takahata, cofondateur du studio d’animation Ghibli, à l’honneur du mudac #ArtsEtDivertissement #ArtsVisuels #Culture #dessin #Divertissement #Entertainment #Exposition #FilmD'animation #HayaoMiyazaki #IndustrieCinématographique #IndustrieVidéoludique #IsaoTakahata #réalisateur #StudioGhibli #Suisse

#suisse #studioghibli #realisateur #isaotakahata #industrievideoludique #industriecinematographique

Ygor @[email protected] · 2025-11-07 · 07:11 UTC

There is an exhibition in Paris about Isao Takahata, cofounder of Studio Ghibli. It has some notes, diagrams and drawings he made over 40 years ago, as well as some of the original cels and backgrounds from the movies, and much more.

The exhibition is on until January 24th. If you want to go on a Saturday, you have to book weeks in advance. On weekdays it's easier.

https://www.mcjp.fr/fr/la-mcjp/actualites/isao-takahata-pionnier-du-dessin-anime-de-l-apres-guerre-au-studio-ghibli

#Paris #France #animation #animation2d #Ghibli #StudioGhibli #IsaoTakahata #museum

#paris #france #animation #animation2d #ghibli #studioghibli

Ygor @[email protected] · 2025-11-07 · 07:11 UTC

There is an exhibition in Paris about Isao Takahata, cofounder of Studio Ghibli. It has some notes, diagrams and drawings he made over 40 years ago, as well as some of the original cels and backgrounds from the movies, and much more.

The exhibition is on until January 24th. If you want to go on a Saturday, you have to book weeks in advance. On weekdays it's easier.

https://www.mcjp.fr/fr/la-mcjp/actualites/isao-takahata-pionnier-du-dessin-anime-de-l-apres-guerre-au-studio-ghibli

#Paris #France #animation #animation2d #Ghibli #StudioGhibli #IsaoTakahata #museum

#paris #france #animation #animation2d #ghibli #studioghibli

Ygor @[email protected] · 2025-11-07 · 07:11 UTC

There is an exhibition in Paris about Isao Takahata, cofounder of Studio Ghibli. It has some notes, diagrams and drawings he made over 40 years ago, as well as some of the original cels and backgrounds from the movies, and much more.

The exhibition is on until January 24th. If you want to go on a Saturday, you have to book weeks in advance. On weekdays it's easier.

https://www.mcjp.fr/fr/la-mcjp/actualites/isao-takahata-pionnier-du-dessin-anime-de-l-apres-guerre-au-studio-ghibli

#Paris #France #animation #animation2d #Ghibli #StudioGhibli #IsaoTakahata #museum

#paris #france #animation #animation2d #ghibli #studioghibli

Ygor @[email protected] · 2025-11-07 · 07:11 UTC

There is an exhibition in Paris about Isao Takahata, cofounder of Studio Ghibli. It has some notes, diagrams and drawings he made over 40 years ago, as well as some of the original cels and backgrounds from the movies, and much more.

The exhibition is on until January 24th. If you want to go on a Saturday, you have to book weeks in advance. On weekdays it's easier.

https://www.mcjp.fr/fr/la-mcjp/actualites/isao-takahata-pionnier-du-dessin-anime-de-l-apres-guerre-au-studio-ghibli

#Paris #France #animation #animation2d #Ghibli #StudioGhibli #IsaoTakahata #museum

#museum #isaotakahata #studioghibli #ghibli #animation2d #animation