Is realism really real? Isao Takahata’s pursuit for true reality

If Hayao Miyazaki was the Paul McCartney of the Studio Ghibli, Isao Takahata was the John Lennon, even though he was the lesser-known leader of Ghibli. It was Takahata, who was 6 years older than Miyazaki, who discovered Miyazaki’s talent and promoted him to co-produce TV anime series when they worked together at Toei Animation. Ever since the two founded Studio Ghibli in 1985, Miyazaki has been the face of the company as his movies almost always saw commercial success. But it didn’t mean that Miyazaki was better than Takahata. They were both genius. Toshio Suzuki, who’s been managing Ghibli business as producer, president & CEO always said: “Miyazaki is a top-notch creator of entertainment movies, and Takahata is an artist.”  

Takahata didn’t care how much money it would cost to produce a movie. He didn’t care how much money it would make either. He only cared about the authenticity of his production. And he was unbelievably stubborn about it. Until he died in 2018 at the age of 82, he only directed six films with Ghibli, if you exclude the ones he co-produced with Miyazaki. What was his philosophy?

Isao Takahata’s early life

Isao Takahata was born in 1935 in the Mie Prefecture, Japan. After studying French Literature at Tokyo University – the most prestigious college in Japan – he joined Toei Animation and started his career as a director/producer of animation films. Hayao Miyazaki joined Toei several years later as an animator, and was hand-picked by Takahata to work on the TV shows he produced. Ever since, the pair created many landmark animations for children, including “Lupin the Third”, “Heidi, Girl of the Alps” and “3000 Leagues in Search of Mother,” which set high aesthetic standards for the Japanese animation that followed.

During his early years, he produced many shows about the children who had to go through hardships, often adapting classic literature from Europe. They were the stories of life, and the stories of what growing up really meant. The episodes didn’t always conclude with “happy ever after”, or “your dreams will come true if you try hard” clichés. Takahata did not try to exaggerate or sugar coat events or emotions just to increase dramatic effects. Poverty haunted ordinary people. Some adults were mean or senseless even to kids. Nature and the world were often irrational and did not make sense, which was exactly the reason why they were unbelievably beautiful at other times. He would make young viewers cry (pretty hard). In Takahata’s world, emotions were real. Even sadness was real, even for kids.

But that doesn’t mean that his creations were somber and disheartening. It was quite the opposite. I am sure that the Japanese children who grew up in the 70’s dreamed of traveling on a piece of cottony cloud, eating smoothly melting cheese, and sleeping on a bed made of hay bales as they earnestly watched “Heidi, Girl of the Alps” who lived on the other side of the planet. Every detail of Takahata’s production had the real touch, texture, smells and feelings, even when it was something the kids had never seen in their life. Just as the hardships described were real; he also described happiness – the small happiness of everyday life – so real. Because that’s how life is.

Heidi, Girl of the Alps

The vastly popular opening of the “Heidi, Girl of the Alps.” 1974. Director: Isao Takahata. Scene design, Layout: Hayao Miyazaki.
Every child who grew up before the 90’s probably vividly remember all the details of this intro, and can sing the song.

3000 Leagues in Search of Mother

The opening of the “3000 Leagues in Search of Mother.” 1976. Director: Isao Takahata. Scene design, Layout: Hayao Miyazaki.
The story of a 9 year-old boy who travels from Italy to Argentina to look for his mother. He encounters many troubles and hardships before he finally finds her.

“Reality” in animation films is tricky. Today people often expect to experience objects that look/feel more real than in real life, now that film makers can use advanced digital computer graphic technologies that deliver “realistic” images at the microscopic scope.

But this was not the “reality” that Takahata was looking for. At the end of the day, animation is not alchemy. Even if you make something spectacularly real that would overwhelm actual reality in “real-ness,” that does not mean that you have created a reality. Takahata was not interested in alchemy-type realism. If a typical animation focused on delivering the reality that you couldn’t feel in your everyday life (you could call it “fantasy” if you’d like), Takahata pursued a reality that was actually “felt” by humans. He wanted to capture everyday life which was an accumulation of little things, casual actions, conversations and interactions, subtle feelings, changing seasons, spontaneous encounters and unexpected good-byes. He used his magic to let beauty and happiness emerge from low-key everyday events that were experienced by real people.

Yoshiaki Nishimura, who produced “The Tale of Princess Kaguya” – the last movie Takahata directed – remembers that Takahata sometimes described his approach to realism as “f***ing real.” 

In his early years, Takahata pursued realism by creating stories full of real details based on thorough research – he called it the “anthropological approach.” After that, he started to aspire to a more metaphysical, even philosophical reality. Nishimura observes: “It’s obvious if you see what he did with ‘My Neighbors the Yamadas.’”

My Neighbors the Yamadas

The trailer of the “My Neighbor the Yamadas.”  1999. Director: Isao Takahata.
Screenwriter Michael Arndt saw this film at the MOMAT in 1999 when he was almost ready to give up his career as a screenwriter. Deeply impressed by Takahata’s approach to describe people’s daily lives to create an extraordinary film, he wrote “Little Miss Sunshine,” which became a critically acclaimed movie. He is now know as a screenwriter for “Toy Story 3” and “Star Wars: The Force Awakens.”

Adapting a manga comic by Hisaichi Ishii, the film was made using almost sketch-like, rough lines to shape objects/people and watercolor style finishing touches – ambiguous, subdued and subtle. It was the complete opposite of how animation films were typically created. Not only that, but many elements that would have existed if the movie happened in real life were intentionally eliminated. There were so many voids/space – “yohaku” or “ma,” if you were to use terms from Japanese aesthetics. And this was what Takahata meant by “f***ing real.”

Nishimura remembers Takahata kept saying, “try to capture the reality that is behind the drawn lines.” He did not want to use drawn lines to “limit” the potential of expression by letting them compete with the physical reality of real objects. Instead, he tried to capture the elusive truth hiding in our everyday lives by limiting drawing to the ultimate essentials.

In order to achieve such a challenging mission, Takahata relied on the abilities of certain artists who could capture subtle moments and record moods, ambience and/or the feel by eliminating every detail that was superfluous. One person he needed for his production was Osamu Tanabe, the chief animator of “My Neighbors the Yamadas” who defined this artistic quality. (Simple and minimal sketch-like approach does not mean less work at all. Indeed, it took three times more drawings, requiring total 170,000 pictures to make this film.)

Takahata declined taking on a new project for a long time after “My Neighbors the Yamadas” (which was a commercial failure by the way) was released in 1999. The only possibility, Takataha insisted, would be to create something that would fully leverage Tanabe’s ability to capture the essence of the real feel of real people without relying on detail-oriented realism.

When he finally decided to direct a new film, “The Tale of the Princess Kaguya,” with Tanabe as the chief animator, it was already 2005 and it took him another eight years to finish. This would be his last work and was released in 2013. The production process was anything but efficient. Although the director and the chief animator both knew that they were both involved in making a commercial film, they were stubbornly loyal to their creative instincts and wanted to stay “real” about what they would produce. But “The Tale of the Princess Kagya” was based on an old story written more than 1,000 years earlier. How could they feel “real” about life a thousand years ago? Both Takahata and Tanabe grappled to answer that question. The Tale of the Princess Kaguya” was a film made by a director who struggled to write a plot/screenplay and an animator who struggled to draw a single story board, because they had no intention of creating something that didn’t feel real. The director would spend months writing just one page of synopsis while “scolding” his chief animator for not drawing enough or interpreting his intentions wrongly.

Of course it wasn’t that they were lazy or procrastinated (although Hayao Miyazaki describe Takahata as a “sloth” for his stubbornly slow pace). Literally, the word “compromise” wasn’t in their vocabulary. Takahata had the boldness to scrap any project if it didn’t meet his expectations, even when it was 80% complete and after tens of millions of dollars were spent. And Tanabe won’t draw a line unless he was 100% sure he knew what he was drawing. (Nishimura remembers that Tanabe would come to work everyday and sit still for 8 hours even without even picking up a pen, saying ‘I don’t feel how people lived 1,000 years ago. I cannot draw.’”

This shows their sincere and desperate struggle to try to capture the reality that lay beyond the drawn line. They had to keep digging further and further, questioning themselves and to let such a reality emerge without any compromise.

And they persevered.

The Tale of Princess Kaguya

The trailer of “The Tale of Princess Kaguya.”  2013. Director: Isao Takahata.

This is the reality Takahata pursued.

It silently but powerfully tells us that the real “reality” is not something that is made somewhere else and all you have to do is to wait for it to be delivered. It is something you find inside you, or you have to participate in the process (even as audience). And only “real” artworks can be a catalyst to find such reality and beauty.