As you might have guessed by the title, yes. Twenty years ago it came in the form of Hayao Miyazaki’s mystical epic, Princess Mononoke. This is a film that’s already visually marvellous, expertly told, and brimming with relatable memorable characters. The story is about a warrior in ancient Japan who while seeking a cure for a terminal injury becomes involved in the war between an industrial town, the spirits of the forest and their human princess. From the sounds of it, it’s the basic humans vs. nature plot with the humans wanting to use the forest for resources and the noble princess defending it against their evils. Which in some respect it is, but not nearly as cut and dry, and far more interesting.
Unlike so many western movies of this sort, Princess Mononoke doesn’t vilify anyone. Though adversaries, both village leader Eboshi and San (“Princess Mononoke” being Irontown’s nickname for her) are relatable complex characters. Eboshi is clear-cutting the forest for iron, but she’s also a leader who genuinely cares for her people providing a home and livelihood for all kinds of outcasts. In fact under her, the town is pretty much run by former prostitutes. Likewise San is defending the forest and spirits justly, but she’s not as capable or knowledgeable as she thinks. Her determination and passion are admirable but she’s incapable of sympathizing with the people of Irontown or any humans for that matter. What we have then are very human characters, neither evil nor good, just trying to protect their own and survive. The audience is made to understand where both are coming from. Eboshi like many real people may be doing the wrong thing, but she’s coming from a place of good intentions. And admit it, we’ve all met someone like San -someone who’s so resolute in their ideology that compromise or understanding with the “other” is tantamount to surrender. You see this particularly with regards to politics. And like politics, each side is in the wrong as much as the right. This is rather obvious with Eboshi and the people of Irontown who see the forest spirits as inhibiting their progress and who Eboshi takes a little too much pleasure in harassing. But the spirits aren’t necessarily in the right either and have their own shortcomings. They keep to their kin and none of the forest tribes see eye to eye. The apes wish to eat Ashitaka and thus consume his power to take on the humans, Okkoto leads the boars in an offensive against the humans, and Moro the wolf spirit is more cautious and pessimistic in light of the humans’ new weapons. They’re united in their hatred of the humans but not in their means of dealing with them. These animals though, have no more mercy for humans than the humans for them, epitomized in Moro’s vow to brutally kill Eboshi. San shares this desire and when she fights Eboshi in the centre of the town, their mutual loathing is apparent. But neither of these characters is our protagonist, even though San gives the film its’ title. The audience isn’t meant to identify with San, but rather with Ashitaka. And that may be key to why this film is the best environmentally themed movie; because its hero embodies a middle ground.
Both the people of Irontown and San accuse Ashitaka of being “one of them” throughout this movie, because he’s someone who understands and sympathizes with both sides. He’s neutral and strives to achieve the best outcome for everyone. Perhaps my favourite scene is when Ashitaka, who at this point is among the spirits and in San’s good graces, is with Moro looking out over the forest, and Moro bemoans the coming war while also making no effort to hide her hatred of him. During this conversation Ashitaka asks “why can’t the humans and the forest live together? Why can’t we stop this fighting now?” He doesn’t get an answer. “The humans are gathering for the final battle -the flames of their guns will burn us all” Moro deflects the question, stubborn and cold as ever. She’s supposed to be a representative of nature yet she’s filled with hate even in part for her own adopted daughter San, whom she acknowledges as being a creature, ‘neither human nor wolf’. Ashitaka is consistently the most reasonable person in any given scene, and maybe it’s his fate that evokes his compassion for the mostly good people of Irontown as well as his understanding of the value in the Great Forest. He really is the person we should be, sympathetic to nature while still connected to humanity. He carries with him a scar inflicted by a boar spirit, the corruption on his arm that he’ll eventually succumb to, yet he doesn’t hold it against Okkoto or the other boars when he meets them. And though he disagrees with what Eboshi’s doing to the forest, he understands that she’s made a better life for her people and respects her for that. Ashitaka’s particularly unique portrayal for this kind of movie makes him one of Miyazaki’s best characters and speaks to Miyazaki’s interpretation of the relationship humans have with the world.
Miyazaki’s wise enough to understand that nature isn’t something external which humans need to protect, but that humans are intricately a part of. And it informs his viewpoint in this film. He populates the forest in this movie with the spirits that are integral aspects of Japanese folklore; spirits that though ethereal, other-worldly, and in the case of the Great Spirit of the Forest, godly, are very human in attitude. This all the more connects the world of the spirits to that of the humans and the ideal balance he’s advocating here. And of course a human is the only one who can return the head of the Great Spirit at the end. But while the conflict is largely resolved for now, things aren’t fixed at this point and Miyazaki doesn’t provide us with a means to achieve this balance. Princess Mononoke at its core is a movie that refuses to give its audience easy answers. It instead compels them to look for new answers to combat ecological destruction that maintain humanity’s place within nature.
None of this is all that new to Miyazaki; he has had environmental themes in his films before, in Castle in the Sky, My Neighbour Totoro, and most notably Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind which depicts a post-apocalyptic world brought on by excessive pollution. But this film is the most head-on he’s addressed them, by literally pitting humans against the spirits of the natural world. What puts him head over shoulders above other directors of this subject matter is that there’s no impression in Princess Mononoke that nature is good and mankind is evil. Both are far more complex than that.
Princess Mononoke is already a pretty phenomenal film on a technical level. It’s beautifully creative, ably performed, and has some of the greatest animation you’ll ever see. But it’s this handling of the environmental themes that really elevates it. This movie portrays humanity and nature as equally flawed but necessary for the other to endure. And because there’s no cookie-cutter villain, diabolical scheme, and actual subtlety, the message of this film actually works. Where something like Avatar leaves you insulted, and is condescending to the point you come out of it indifferent if not outright bitter to nature, Princess Mononoke leaves you genuinely inspired and willing to do your part to make a healthier world. It avoids the tropes and hackneyed morals of most environmental films, as well as other clichés; Ashitaka and San don’t get together in the end. Nor should they, because again it would be chaining Ashitaka to one end of the spectrum. He, like us, must occupy and exemplify the best of both worlds. That is to have the spirits’ reverence for nature but maintain human values and reason. It’s just as Ashitaka and San’s last conversation, with optimistic words we should heed:
“Even if all the trees return it won’t be his forest anymore. The Great Forest Spirit is dead now.”
“Never. He’s life itself, he’s not dead San. He’s here right now trying to tell us something: that it’s time for both of us to live.”
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