Le vent se lève

... maybe that's Miyazaki's secret, finally unveiled in his latest movie: "The Wind Rises".

You know, it's been three months since I discovered his work… and I never had to experience any kind of disappointment. And although I got used to his unequaled capability to catch my eyes and my heart, some of his movies really hit a sensitive chord, like "Kiki" or "Ponyo" and perhaps the action-less moments of "Nausicaa".

But I can't really describe the effect "The Wind Rises" had on me. For one thing, I'm glad I'm discovering it late because it's the film that best captures Miyazaki's love for airplanes. His passion never went unnoticed; how could it be? Almost half of his movies involve airplanes, flying devices or stunts in the air, but there has always been an element of fantasy that distracted from the personal approach he had to flying, even in "Porco Rosso" which was the most explicit homage to the Italian contribution to aviation.

But "The Wind Rises" made me realize how fantasy is perhaps the sincerest medium to convey passionate matters, because -to put it simply- it's all about dreams and vision that wait for the right wind to carry them a little and give them that extra push they need for flying. "The wind has risen, one must try to live" is the excerpt from Paul Valéry's poem that novelist Hori Tatsuo used as an inspiration for a tragic romance, and who else than Miyazaki could explore such a story, he who had dedicated all his life to things in the air, from feelings to… plain things (pun intended). One thing he had in common with Jiro Horikochi, the main protagonist.

The film deals with planes in a way that has never been touched by Miyazaki, it's not about flying but about the dreams of flying, their very blossoming in the fertile soil of a man's mind. In fact, the film is less devoted to planes than to the devotion of a boy, then a man, who designed the Imperial Army's most notorious aircraft. They were used in the war but the film has a point to make about war. Miyazaki believes in Jiro's humanism and expresses it through very riveting dreamy moments. Jiro is a dreamer, literally, and whenever he dreams, he meets his all-time idol, Italian Giovanni Caproni. Together they share their views about planes, their universal appeal and sadly their belligerent uses (or misuses).

But don't get it wrong, just because it's in the poetic vicinity of Miyazaki's usual works, the film is as realistic as any serious biography picture, although fictionalized with a romance adapted from the "Wind Has Risen" novel and many events that struck Japan from the Great Depression to Kanto's earthquake, and last but not least, the war. Jiro is portrayed as a witness of his time who must adapt to the evolution of society, a two-pace society with a feudal heritage yet trying to match the Meiji dream. The most emblematic image is the prototype being pulled by ox. This is Miyazaki's most personal film, it has Japan, it has humanism and well, it has planes.

And to give you an idea, this film is far more revealing about Jiro than "A Beautiful Mind" with John Nash. There was something so catching in Jiro's passion, in the way he kept focused on his job. I could even feel I was venturing into his mind as if Miyazaki met him in his dreams before making this film. I have no clues about planes but I do love a movie about passion, this is a film about a man who loves planes by a man who loves them. To judge a good biopic, I guess it all comes to the area of passion driving the maker. Having thick glasses, Giro could never fly but Caproni almost rhymes with epiphany, the Italian icon tells him that he can't even fly a plane, but there's just something far more exhilarating than creating. And Miyazaki wouldn't disagree.

The heart of the film is centered on the romance between Jiro and a gentle tuberculosis stricken girl, like Hori's wife who inspired the novel. And whenever they meet, the wind rises and make their encounter possible. Air is our universal heritage, in the film, it reunites people and give a proper meaning to their life. This air so fragile in "Nausicaa", this air that symbolizes peace in a world that prepares to war and about which the post-apocalyptic Nausicaa warned us. Miyazaki signs his best film. I enjoyed it so much it could have been twice longer, to the post-war period time.

But the film culminates with the tragic ending and doesn't show much of the war. It is anticlimactic to use a technical term, but I guess it's a fine ending because there wasn't much to add about Jiro once he designed the prototype, once the plane that started as a concept hidden behind a fish bone became a technological marvel. The film is dedicated to the engineer and to the poet. And the verse "The Wind Rises, one must try to live" is so beautiful it could work as an epitaph for Hayao Miyazaki, summing up his best contribution to animation: inviting us to dream, to pursue our dreams and to take them seriously like a poet, a bit like an engineer, always like a dreamer.

This is one of the greatest animated movies of recent times, and given how critical I was about "Frozen", I was shocked that it won the Oscar. From what I read, there was some controversy surrounding the peaceful nature of Jiro, a sugarcoating of the war and an overuse of smoking. I'd say "The Wind Rises" deserved better than being beaten by a film that tried to play the "socially relevant" card to death. But the masterpiece flies over "Frozen" like a zeppelin over a fish bone.

The announcement of this film was a pleasant surprise after Ponyo and From Up on Poppy Hill, which both had simple, childish plots. Few films in Japan have tackled the lives of imperial period heroes; the ghosts of the 1960s urge people to denounce what really happened in that time and memorialize an imaginary anti-war movement, for example in this year's film "Shounen H". For Miyazaki to choose a subject like this showed that he was really going for a huge challenge. Miyazaki is of course anti-war and environmentalist. But Ghibli films are never negative. What sort of positive image of the Zero bomber inventor would Miyazaki produce?

The result is astounding. As everyone has noted, this is not a children's movie. It's complex, so it doesn't have the epic sense of Miyazaki at his best, but history and adulthood are just as complex, and Miyazaki does justice to both. The film indeed stays positive throughout, by showing from start to finish how everyone wishes they themselves would behave, rewarding the viewer with virtue and beauty, but without being condescending about the hardships of real life. In a sense, the film is about the "importance of dreams", but it's also about what it means to be a dreamer in real life, and how our highest fantasies can be turned into beauty if we put our minds to it. The cartoon medium is put to full, extravagant use in dream sequences that merge right into the narrative. Certain elements at the end of the film leave the obvious unsaid in a peculiarly Japanese and fulfilling way. The most classic films of Japan, like the great works of Akira Kurosawa and Yasujiro Ozu, say something profound about the meaning of life, and Kaze Tachinu deserves a place among those ranks.

Aviation has always been a key element of the Studio Ghibli films; from the flying broomstick in Kiki's Delivery Service to the airborne armies in Howl's Moving Castle. So for Hayao Miyazaki's reported swan-song to focus on the development of aeroplane design is no surprise. A fictionalised biopic of designer Jiro Horikoshi, The Wind Rises is a stunning achievement, an animated film that uses the medium to tell a compelling, highly emotional story that has appeal for children and adults alike. Horikoshi's designs were used during World War 2, and that detail may make The Wind Rises unpalatable to some. But Miyazaki's films have never focused on battle-lines, but on the personal stories involved, and The Wind Rises gains power from the balancing of the beauty of the designs against the knowledge that the purpose for which the designs will be used leads to death and unhappiness. It's a bitter-sweet paradox, and one that many directors would sweep under the carpet. Instead, Miyazaki puts Horikoshi's dilemma centre-stage, and depicts the designer's angst as he finds himself immersed in industrial and international intrigue while he attempts to keep his own thinking pure. A subplot, invented for the film, relates how Horikoshi's work life is informed by his chaste romance with Naoko, a woman with tuberculosis who won't marry until she recovers. Horikoshi's dreams take flight while his day-to-day reality struggles to leave the ground behind. The Wind Rises stirs up sensational aerial dream sequences, but also captures the bleakness of life on the ground, as Tokyo recovers from a devastating earthquake. Horikoshi and Naoko journey to the Magic Mountain resort in an effort to address her physical malaise, and their interaction with a mysterious German spy, beautifully voiced by Werner Herzog, sketches out the sinister world of warmongering that forms the backdrop to their romance. Studio Ghibli films have always been beautiful to watch, and The Wind Rises excels in every frame. But the overriding message, about the role of a gifted individual to overcome the constraints of society, is just as beautifully wrought; The Wind Rises is required viewing for anyone who wants to have their spirits lifted and soar like the wind for two blissful hours.

"The Wind Rises" is a highly fictionalized version of the early years of aeronautical engineers Jiro Hirokoshi and Tatsuo Hori...with a very strong emphasis on Jiro. The fact Hiyao Miyazaki would make such a film isn't all that surprising, since he seemed to have a real sentimental attitude towards early airplanes in several of his films (such as "Porco Rosso"). However, I was a bit surprised when I learned about the film since the planes these two men made for Mitsubishi were important components of the extremely nationalistic Japanese military of the 1930s and 40s...an era many would probably choose to forget.

Not surprisingly, this is a Miyazaki film that is not at all intended for children. In fact, I wouldn't bother showing it to your younger audiences...they'd be bored. Plus some parents would object to all the smoking and cursing...and there's not a single Totoro or flying witch to be seen! As for me, I understand that many Japanese animated films are NOT intended for kids and that isn't a bad thing at all. In this case, Studio Ghibli managed to make one of the loveliest of all their films in "The Wind Rises". It is extremely touching in parts, especially when dealing with Jiro's fated romance. In fact, the film practically screams quality throughout and it's not at all surprising that it was nominated for the Best Animated Feature Oscar. Well worth seeing.

Incidentally, Jiro's infamous Japanese Zero was interesting because by the end of the war almost every single one of these aircraft had been destroyed...and I wonder how he felt about this. Ironically, one of the few Zeros to survive did so because it was captured and taken to the States for testing and evaluation.

This is a breathtaking masterpiece of art that allows your mind and heart to soar like the wind .The story is loosely based on the real life story of Jiro Horikoshi (Joseph Gordon- Levitt). He dreams of flying but, because he's nearsighted, decides to be a Japanese airplane designer. We observe his life from child to adulthood as he makes his dream plane and, in the process, falls in love with Naoko (Emily Blunt). Will Jiro create the beautiful plane or realize that the beauty he's seeking is right in front of him all along?

The film is a work of art. Hayao Miyazaki (Director and Writer) creates unique color palettes and designs. Since the movie takes place in the sky, the animators go above and beyond to hand draw backgrounds and movements for the planes. We witness them majestically soaring through the skies and you feel as if you're with them. The voice acting is well done. I think they portrayed the characters and their relationships exceptionally well. Much of the film focuses on the romance between Naoko and Jiro. Their connection is both loving and tragic. The film was first released in Japan, so American voice-overs are dubbed over the animation and yes, it can be distracting. They confront actual events that happened in Japan, such as the Kanto earth-quake of 1923 and Japan entering the war. I love the truth in this film. It doesn't shy away from talking about the real issues that happened during this time.

My favorite character is Mr.Caproni (Stanley Tucci) a historical Italian aircraft designer who is Jiro's mentor in his dreams. I enjoy Stanley's voice acting skills. He's one of those character actors who is fantastic at everything he does. The character himself is fascinating. He looks at aircraft not as a bringer of war, but a creator of dreams.

My favorite scene is the last dream sequence, after Jiro goes through a life changing experience. This is one of those bitter sweet endings, where you don't know what to think at first. You just need to take it all in.

The message in this film is, "Sometimes the outcome to your dream is not always what you expect." Jiro spends his whole life wanting to make his aircraft, determined to do anything to fulfill his goal. After a few sacrifices, he realizes his potential but it's not what he expects. Mr. Caproni then asks him, "Did you have a good ten years?"

I give this 5 out of 5 stars and recommend it to 11 to 18-year-olds. This film shows people smoking and deals with serious issues of the time. This is a must see film!

Reviewed by Keefer B, KIDS FIRST Film Critic. For more youth reviews go to kidsfirst.org.