Tuesday, August 4, 2015

IMDb #142 Review: Howl's Moving Castle (2004)

Source: Wikipedia
Sophie, a simple girl from a pseudo-Victorian haberdashery, runs afoul of shapeshifting shadowmen. (Who doesn't, from time to time.) Then a spiteful morbidly obese witch transforms the young girl into an old crone. So Sophie seeks help from Howl, a vain magical manchild who lives in a mobile steampunk fortress that walks on impossibly spindly legs.

Never change, Studio Ghibli.

Once again, Miyazaki dials up the WHIMSY meter till the needle breaks the scale and the compression tank explodes and ingenious creations of pure joy rain from the sky. A friendly mute hopping scarecrow. A snarky omnivorous fire demon voiced by Billy Crystal. A wheezy stubby-legged dog-mop-thing. A magic teleporting door. Monstrous wizard birdmen. And Howl.

(See, typically I'll list a catalog of disparate elements to amuse, confuse, or spark the imaginations of readers as they attempt to deduce the connections. For anything Ghibli, good luck. Just settle down deep into the weirdness, drink in the staggeringly beautiful sights and sounds, and let the warm fuzzies wash over you.)

While this likably practical girl adjusts to the prospects of playing elderly housekeeper to a fickle boy wizard, the land is at war. Who, why, and precisely where? Answers would ruin the effect. Nevertheless, the king summons wizards to fight for him. Howl (and his multiple aliases) dodge the draft, insisting (in curious unison) that the war is pointless. Besides, he's beginning to see his housekeeper for the true beauty inside, and on the outside when she's asleep.

Because amid the adventures and escapades and air raids, there's room for a disarmingly sweet romance arc.

Just as the wild inventiveness never becomes alienating, the colorful cast of characters remains unmistakably human in the oddest ways.

Every frame drips beauty. I want to catch it in a jar, set it up to sparkle on a shelf, or guzzle it all down at once to feel it flutter in your gut. Or, best of all, pour it out and set the warm fuzzies free.

119 minutes.

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