For all its goodhearted cheer, Pom Poko is a glum indictment of modern Japan's disjunction from the natural and spiritual world. But it strikes a positive final note by implying that those worlds still exist, just out of sight, waiting and flourishing.
The best film by Isao Takahata, who started the studio with Mr. Miyazaki, this is a comic allegory about battling packs of tanuki (Japanese raccoon dogs) joining forces to fight human real estate developers. It’s earthy and rollicking in a way that his co-founder’s films aren’t.
Furry rematch. When the nature forces turns. The story balances accurately action, comedy and Japanese folklore as a deep but amusing reflection about the ecological balance. The morphing racoons are cracking, obviously. If you think this ecological metaphor is a hyperbole, you haven't seen yet Princess Mononoke.
While Tokyo swells and expands, clearing forest to accommodate its housing needs, a nearby tribe of free-spirited tanuki (Japanese raccoon-dog) hatches plans to defend its turf. That's the intention anyway, if everyone would just sit still and pay attention long enough to chart a course of action. Fortunately, they do have one ace up their sleeve: the long-fabled (and nearly forgotten) ability to shape-shift. Once unlocked and understood, this plays heavily into the tanuki's efforts to subvert construction crews - destructive pranks, mostly - but also their day-to-day appearance.
Effective animation is essential here, and Studio Ghibli is up to the task. Depending upon the critters' moods, they'll slide from super-realistic to ultra-expressive, often several times over the course of a single scene. Ghibli makes it all feel smooth and natural, enhancing the important bits with their usual assortment of small details and charming body language.
There isn't much to the story - all the fun is in the light spirit, zany transformations and oafish nature of the animals - and that's a problem as the duration grows and the climax remains elusive. It holds on for way too long, repeating the same beats three or four times too often. The first hour is a wonderful blast of unbridled creativity and innocent attitude, peaking in a wild parade scene that rivals the one in Paprika, but I was ready for it to end at least half an hour before it did.
Takahata’s wondrous film is itself at constant interplay between the unsentimental realities of human progress (and expansion) and the unbound thoughts and creative perspectives that fantasy can entertain without necessarily being reduced to mere entertainment.
Its broad, slapstick send-up of human foibles prefigures Takahata’s more pointed My Neighbors, the Yamadas (1999). At 119 minutes, the film feels a bit long and the story rambles, albeit genially.
Thankfully, the proceedings are carefully anchored in what are palpably human concerns, namely the cohabitation of humans and wildlife and the environmental cost of widespread urbanisation, and while this is not quite up there with best of the studio’s output, it’s still a striking and universally pleasurable experience.
At its best, there's an undoubted thrill and wonder to Pom Poko, like the massive parade of phantoms the tanuki conjure up as one of their harebrained schemes. Takahata's misfire at least provides some wonderful sparkles.