Spirited Away and How its Thematic Density Leads it to Masterpiece Quality
Studio Ghibli’s 2001 film, Spirited Away, is often regarded as a masterpiece of animation and the legendary studio’s greatest film. But what leads to such praise? What causes the film to be as popular and accoladed as it is? // Image: Studio Ghibli, GKIDS
Hayao Miyazaki is often in the conversation when talking about the most visionary film directors of all time - and rightfully so! He, alongside other artists, animators, and directors at Studio Ghibli, is the recipient of unparalleled praise in the animation space. This isn’t just because many of Ghibli’s films are imaginative and invite audiences into worlds that are either dazzlingly fantastic or heartfully mundane. This isn’t just because Ghibli’s output looks visually distinctive from any other western or eastern piece of animation. This isn’t just because they tell a wide variety of stories with different kinds of themes. Rather, the genius and true beauty of Studio Ghibli and specifically Hayao Miyazaki’s work is how unified and cohesive they are from a theming perspective.
I’ve talked about other Studio Ghibli films before on this blog, and my intention is to eventually talk about most if not all of them. I was compelled to write about Whisper of the Heart and Kiki’s Delivery Service because of their thematic richness with regard to coming-of-age storytelling. Those films beautifully represent the complexities of maturing and how connections play a role in shaping who we are. If you read other reviews and analyses of Spirited Away, you’ll often see a similar narrative. Critics and audiences alike form an attachment to the movie because of Chihiro’s journey in building friendships and connections, accordingly growing and maturing as a person. The adventure that Chihiro goes on throughout Spirited Away shapes her into becoming a stronger, more resilient, and more confident version of herself.
But is that really what Spirited Away is about? Or is that just an aspect of the film that people attach themselves to?
In truth, there’s a lot about Spirited Away that I think gives it the status and renown that it has earned in the decades since its release. While it’s true that the film carries aspects of a coming-of-age narrative, it’s an ultimately subdued aspect of the film’s plot. At the beginning of the film, Chihiro holds her mother’s leg tightly as she and her family walk through the tunnel that leads to the abandoned park turned city of spirits. When she departs the setting of the film through the very same tunnel with her parents at the very end of the narrative, Chihiro is once again tightly holding onto her mother’s leg. The events of the film don’t dramatically change her in a way that most filmmakers would depict. Most storytellers would opt to have Chihiro behave completely differently in order to reflect the movement in Chihiro’s character. While we do see Chihiro provide dialogue about no longer being afraid of the challenges that moving into a new town bring, this movement is an inherently subdued one - because it’s just one of many themes that are depicted in Spirited Away.
I’ve always found Spirited Away to be among the weaker films of Studio Ghibli’s lineup despite its reputation and once-held title of being the highest grossing Japanese film of all time. Hayao Miyazaki famously crafts his movies through storyboarding - not through writing a screenplay. I’ve found that style, while working in many of his films, to be at its most jarring and noticeable in Spirited Away. Even on a recent rewatch of the film per GKIDS’ annual Ghibli Fest, I still find the film’s pacing and narrative structure to be clunky and jarring.
So why, then, do I still agree with many other critics and fans that Spirited Away is a masterpiece? Issues like narrative and pacing are typically major issues that bog down a film’s quality in my mind and yet Spirited Away evades me thinking less of it. Why is that?
Put simply, Spirited Away is a film I deeply respect and admire because of its nuanced thematic density. Spirited Away is a film that smartly discusses consumerism, environmentalism, racism and xenophobia, industrialization, and more all within the confines of a film that crafts a visually and sonically spectacular experience that wows adults and children alike. What makes Spirited Away stand the test of time as much as it has is how much its various themes make the film appealing for anyone to watch. There are so many different lenses through which to analyze the film, and so many different perspectives to focus on in the film’s narrative - all while being wrapped up in an undeniably gorgeous work of animation. I’ve found that to be the reason why the film holds up so well across generations and over time.
Spirited Away’s thematic density and depth are precisely what elevate it to greatness. Even I, as someone that takes issue with some major elements of the film, can comfortably call Spirited Away a masterpiece because it’s a film that begets looking at the world in so many different ways. And that, above all else, is why art exists in the first place. Spirited Away is as great as it is because it is a powerful representation of what all art should strive to be: provocative, challenging, otherworldly, and unrelentingly human. Let’s talk about the different themes that transform Spirited Away into an intellectual and creative triumph that all artists should strive towards.
The genius of Spirited Away is the decision to frame so many thematic conversations from the perspective of a young girl. This gives an approachability to the film’s narrative that entices younger viewers and opportunities for nuance to captivate older audiences. Chihiro’s adventure is one of overcoming various challenges that the world faces. // Image: Studio Ghibli, GKIDS
“One Summer Day”: the name of the song from Joe Hisaishi’s masterful score that plays during the opening scene of Spirited Away. The name of the song perfectly describes the quaintness of the beginning of this story. Chihiro, the lone daughter of two nameless, working-class parents, laments her predicament of having to move to a new town. The drive to this new home through rural Japan has a nostalgic tint to it that drenches the film in an immediately bittersweet context. So much of Chihiro’s life is about to change on one summer day driving through a small town as she’s forced to begin going to a new school, make new friends, and start a new life. There’s a nostalgic relatability to this predicament just as much as there is a validity to the scariness that it imposes.
This mundane change to one’s life is an immediate way for audiences to connect with Chihiro. Her expression throughout the car ride is a mix of apprehension, boredom, and sorrow. Any child or former child watching the film can immediately sympathize with Chihiro’s headspace given the situation. It’s a simple means of beginning the film, but like Hisaishi’s musical style, there’s a beauty in the minimalistic approach that Spirited Away takes throughout its entirety. The approachable simplicity at the film’s onset provides the perfect backdrop for there to be more complexity under the film’s initial surface.
After arriving in the mysterious abandoned park, Chihiro’s parents are drawn towards a collection of food. Without anyone nearby to order the food from, they both begin scarfing down as much food as possible. Chihiro separates from her parents where she discovers a bathhouse - the setting of her meeting with a boy named Haku. Chihiro is warned to get away from the bathhouse and to go back to where she came from. When she returns to her parents, though, she is greeted by spirits flooding the once abandoned park. Moreover, her parents have transformed into pigs - a very obvious symbol of thoughtless consumerism overtaking one’s whole identity.
Of course, Chihiro isn’t immune from losing her human form as well. When discovering that a risen tide blocks her way back to where she came from, Chihiro notices that she’s started becoming translucent. This is until Haku reunites with Chihiro and gives her food from the spirit realm, which allows her to retain human form.
This is where the film transitions into being a film about Chihiro, a lone human girl, navigating a world of spirits congregating at the bathhouse and its neighboring park. Unlike her parents, Chihiro holds onto her identity because she hasn’t given in to selfish interests - rather, by eating the food from the spirit world, she has accepted and chosen to respect the rules of the spirit world she has wandered into. This act of respect, though, isn’t enough to afford Chihiro grace among the many spirits at the bathhouse. Chihiro is quickly found out to be a human that spirits at the bathhouse are on alert for. Many spirits call out the distinctly repugnant smell of humans.
Meanwhile, Chihiro is told by Haku to seek work at the bathhouse if she wants any chance of reuniting with her parents. These conflicts both outline two key themes of Spirited Away: division and the effects of overindustrialized capitalism.
Chihiro is put into a position where she is inevitably divided from other spirits and denizens of the bathhouse because of her human identity and lack of work experience. To the spirits, her humanity is the only thing they need to know about her identity. They care not for her concern about saving her parents and returning home - she’s merely viewed as an outsider and nothing more.
Eventually, Chihiro meets with Yubaba, the proprietor of the bathhouse, who puts Chihiro into a contract to work at the bathhouse. This is after Chihiro practically begs for a job per Haku’s previous recommendation, but in doing so, Chihiro’s name’s kanji is cut in half. This changes her name from Chihiro - meaning “a thousand searches” in Japanese, representing curiosity and possibilities, to Sen - simply meaning “thousand” in Japanese. This illustrates that Chihiro is nothing more than a number to Yubaba. Chihiro, now Sen, is no longer a child representing an emerging identity full of potential. She is now just one of many souls in the bathhouse without an identity that only exists to work and generate capital for her.
This sequence also underlines yet another danger of overindustrialized capitalism through the reality of child labor. Chihiro, a powerless ten-year-old girl, begs to be given a job by the powerful Yubaba who chooses to exploit Chihiro for her labor. Chihiro does this because she has been led to believe that this is her only option if she wants to rescue her parents. In order to live her ordinary life and return to normalcy, Chihiro must dedicate her life to working a job at a place that is ambivalent towards her at best and openly hostile towards her at worst.
This connects to how much work is often framed and almost idolized in society - especially from a child’s perspective. In the context of the bathhouse, labor is the only chance at freedom and normalcy. Without figuratively and literally becoming a number for a capitalist system that doesn’t care about her, Chihiro will never be able to experience the relationship with her parents and live a normal life. These are things that shouldn’t be paywalled from any person, much less a child, and yet that’s what fuels Chihiro’s primary conflict throughout Spirited Away.
Chihiro and Haku represent opposing ways of framing attitudes toward identity. Chihiro defies the capitalist framework she’s been forced into while Haku is being controlled by Yubaba and has forgotten his original purpose. Holding onto her identity in spite of the dangerous forces playing against her is ultimately what lets Chihiro overcome the conflicts she faces. // Image: Studio Ghibli, GKIDS
When Chihiro is put to work in the bathhouse, she’s forced to clean the boards alongside other young girls who are implied to be similar predicaments to that of Chihiro’s. This is yet another layer of how this capitalist framework traps so many people. So many turn to low-paying jobs for the sake of the possibility of escaping a miserable life of servitude and unhappiness. Working offers the chance of freedom, but seldom delivers on it. And yet, what can these effectively powerless workers do except carry on with their fate? Maybe through continuing to work, they’ll reunite with their parents and their home, but can all of them do that? Can Chihiro do that? If they’re to just stay in line, keep their heads down, and do the work assigned to them, it seems unlikely.
Thankfully, Chihiro sucks at her job. Spirited Away repeatedly demonstrates Chihiro’s clumsiness up to this point in the film. She regularly falls on the ground, runs face-first into a wall after breaking one of the steps on a staircase, and can barely throw coal into a fire. She’s uncoordinated and brand new to the bathhouse - both of which make her the perfect candidate to be given some of the worst work at the bathhouse. Alongside Lin, Chihiro cleans the largest bathtub reserved for the largest and filthiest spirits that enter the bathhouse.
It’s at this point in the film that we see the extent of the bathhouse’s diversity. In Japanese culture, a bathhouse is symbolic of cleansing and purifying - but more than that, it’s a place that represents community and togetherness. In Spirited Away, we see humans (or humanoid spirits), otherworldly spirits, spirits that take the form of animals, and others all coming together and being part of a single communal space. This makes the plight of the bathhouse’s workers all the more tragic. They can’t participate in the community of the bathhouse - they’re fated to only observe it from the perspective of a worker.
This is where we see the introduction of the Stink Spirit, a sentient pile of filth that walks into the bathhouse. Chihiro is ordered to prepare the large bathtub for the Stink Spirit, which makes for one of the film’s most exciting and chaotic scenes. As this scene escalates in action, Chihiro discovers a "thorn” in the spirit’s side. This ultimately gets the attention of other bathhouse workers and Yubaba herself. Through pulling at the thorn, we see a string of trash emerge from this thorn. A seemingly never-ending chain of trash comes out of the spirit in a scene that emulates Hayao Miyazaki’s personal experience of pulling a bike out of a polluted river. A mountain of garbage piles in the bathhouse in front of the tub before the now-purified River Spirit departs the bathhouse. This shows how human consumerism and waste has led to the corruption of the natural world.
The River Spirit, now dirtied thanks to relentless human waste, can only be purified by turning to the spirits’ bathhouse. Yet, the irony of this scene is that the very one responsible for fully cleansing the River Spirit is a human. Although Chihiro has been vilified and otherized by the many spirits at the bathhouse, she still chooses to empathetically address the River Spirit’s pain - what she diagnoses as a “thorn in his side”. By addressing his unique pain and plight, he’s able to be purified and become free again. The use of the term “thorn in his side” in the English dub is also a cheeky means of framing the reality of the inevitable waste that comes from humanity’s culture of consumerism as a source of annoyance for the spirits of nature.
Environmentalism isn’t an uncommon theme for Hayao Miyazaki to explore - it’s a central idea that can be plainly seen in many of his films. So what makes Spirited Away’s depiction of environmentalism different from his other films? Unlike Princess Mononoke, there’s no juxtaposition between industrialism and naturalism and no effective war between the two forces. There’s no active conflict between the environment and modern technology in Spirited Away. Rather, Spirited Away shows a world where the damage of industrialization has already been done. Advancements in technology have made the natural world a dirtier, more unsustainable place. It’s a realistic stance for the movie to take: the modern world has done irreversible damage to the natural world, and there’s no way to go back to the way things were. Spirits can be cleansed, and the damage can be acknowledged and cured to an extent by humans, but the damage done to the environment can never fully go away. That trash left behind by consumerism will always be somewhere.
The River Spirit isn’t the only instance of this theme. Later in the film, Haku is revealed to be the spirit of the Kohaku River that had once saved Chihiro’s life before the events of the film. Nature itself had kept Chihiro alive, and through having an empathetic understanding of the River Spirit’s pain, she has also helped keep a part of nature alive. While healing the River Spirit was possible, many spirits of nature can’t be fully recovered, as is revealed with Haku, whose true name is revealed to be the Kohaku River.
Chihiro responds to his recollection, “They filled in that river. It’s all apartments now.” Haku responds, “That must be why I can’t find my way home.” Haku’s natural home has been overtaken by technology - a consequence of modern industrialization and urbanization. These phenomena have overtaken nature and have created a point of no return - giving the spirits in the film no home to return to. Due to his river being built on top of, Haku lost his identity, making him susceptible to being exploited and controlled by Yubaba, the film’s most extreme representation of capitalistic greed.
Through Chihiro’s recollection of her near-death experience and her empathy towards spirits, Haku’s able to remember his identity and understand who he is. This is a minor victory given that he can never go back to the river he once called home. The environment he once called home may have eroded into nothingness, but his identity and sense of self are still all his own. Damage may have been done to the external world, but there’s at least some solace to be had in remembering and holding true to who you are.
Spirited Away isn’t a film centered on self-discovery, despite what coming-of-age film conventions may lead you to assume. Rather, Spirited Away is more about how our experiences can give us a resolve that alters the way we look at our lives and the world around us. // Image: Studio Ghibli, GKIDS
Identity is the last major theme explored in Spirited Away that begets discussion. More than anything else, Spirited Away’s emotional core is its examination of Chihiro’s individuality. Despite all the trials that she undergoes and all the challenges posed to her identity, she still holds true to what she values most: making friends and caring for others. Holding onto the integrity of her identity is what makes Chihiro such a believable and relatable hero for the film. Chihiro’s commitment to her identity is juxtaposed by No Face, a spirit whose identity is meaningless to the denizens of the bathhouse.
No Face is an interesting character in that their character is a decisively hollow one. They are recognizably lonely until Chihiro acknowledges them, leaving a door open for them to enter the bathhouse. Once they enter, No Face is quickly seen as a nuisance by the other spirits and is often treated with hostile behavior. This is until No Face begins recreating the gold left behind by the River Spirit. The spirits populating the bathhouse quickly change their attitude when they begin associating No Face with gold. And indeed, No Face indulges in this. There are various scenes where spirits are begging for No Face’s attention, not because of who they are, but because of the money and wealth that they can give the spirits.
No Face’s identity is meaningless to these spirits - they only see No Face as a means to an end. They only value No Face for the wealth that they can provide, which only makes No Face even lonelier. To show their appreciation to Chihiro, No Face offers a massive amount of gold to win her affection and friendship. And yet, Chihiro refuses to accept this gold. This challenges No Face’s assumption that they can easily exchange wealth for companionship and belonging.
No Face goes on to consume the other spirits and inherits many of their worst traits, spiraling into a chaotic and troublesome character throughout the remainder of the film’s runtime. It isn’t until near the end of the film when No Face begins to acquire an identity of their own. They begin working under Zeniba, who praises No Face for their skill at spinning thread. It’s a seemingly small interaction between Zeniba and No Face, and yet it signals a recognition of No Face’s identity that isn’t shown by any other spirit in the film.
While Chihiro showcases how one’s identity and values should stay the same, No Face showcases how identity is also something that can evolve as new people and new environments enter our lives. Identity is fluid - it’s an aspect of our lives that constantly changes. Sometimes, it’s in subtle ways as is the case with Chihiro becoming a braver version of herself. Other times, it’s substantial and can lead to our life taking a new direction altogether. The nuance of exploring this topic through using multiple characters’ different relationships with identity is the exact kind of thematic dedication that makes Spirited Away so special to so many people.
“Always with Me”: the name of the song from Joe Hisaishi’s masterful score that plays during the end credits of Spirited Away. It’s a vocal rendition of the main theme that plays in multiple songs throughout Spirited Away’s soundtrack, most notably in its intro. The name “Always With Me” is indicative of what Spirited Away is truly about as a film. Unlike many other coming-of-age stories, the events of Spirited Away don’t completely transform who Chihiro is as a character. She ultimately leaves the movie as the clumsy, timid child that holds onto her mother’s leg when she’s scared.
That said, she doesn’t go unchanged throughout the movie - the genius of Spirited Away’s depiction of Chihiro is that it shows that change isn’t always outwardly visible. Sometimes, change is obvious, such as when we see the Trash Spirit become cleansed as the River Spirit - a dragon that flies out of the bathhouse and into the night sky. Other times, change is invisible such as when Chihiro forgets aspects of her original identity after being renamed as Sen despite looking the exact same. Change isn’t always visibly reflected, but it’s always there.
The connections we forge and the experiences we go through shape who we are. Oftentimes, those connections, those experiences, those events in your life won’t transform the way you present yourself to the world. They won’t inherently alter the way you dress, the way you interact with people, or how you treat the world around you. However, everything that you go through will impact the way you think, the way you feel, and the way you express your ideas, values, and curiosities. These experiences you have will always be with you, they’ll play a role in shaping the person you become, even if they don’t necessarily overwrite the person you previously were.
The events of Spirited Away don’t fundamentally alter the way Chihiro presents herself to the world - if anything, they affirm to Chihiro the kind of person that she aspires to be. She embraces the world around her through seeking friendship and exhibiting kindness and empathy to others - even to people that appear indifferent or hostile towards her. Through doing so, she has healed spirits and brought solace to spirits like Haku and No Face. When Chihiro hops into the car at the end of the film, her outlook in life isn’t completely transformed, but it has given her an invisible change to her life: a resolve.
“A new home, a new life,” Chihiro’s father says, “it is a bit scary.”
“I think I can handle it,” Chihiro responds.
This is yet another minimalist approach to writing Chihiro’s character, and it’s a beautiful representation of the ways we grow and face the changes that life throws at us. Chihiro may still be forlorn and scared about her new reality. Just as she was at the beginning of the film, Chihiro may still be frustrated that she has to effectively restart her life in a new setting. But through the hardships she’s overcome, the friendships that she’s made, and the experience that she’s had, there has been an invisible difference made to her.
Chihiro has acquired the invisible but deeply valuable strength to face whatever uncertainties await her. The experiences and adventure that she had throughout Spirited Away may be over, but the lessons that she learned over the course of the film’s journey and the people and ideas she encountered during this time will always be with her - and they will continue to empower her and inform the way she navigates life in the future.
Spirited Away may struggle with its sporadic narrative structure and uneven pacing. It may suffer from Miyazaki’s unorthodox approach to filmmaking and storytelling. It may have many instances where it seems that plot points just happen without much buildup or payoff. But what Spirited Away lacks in narrative tightness, it makes up for with intellectual thematic density. I don’t find Spirited Away to have nearly as good a narrative or cast of characters as other Ghibli films, and yet I still find so much to talk about. There are so many narrative concepts being tackled in this film that a 4000-word-long blog post really only scratches the surface of how much there is to analyze in Spirited Away.
This, I feel, is what makes Spirited Away a masterpiece in my eyes and those of millions of people. This is a film that has so much to say about so many different topics big and small. While it certainly doesn’t string everything together with a tight screenplay, the ambition, nuance, and imagination on display is unparalleled. Thematic density and nuance are what carry Spirited Away towards its legendary status. Few films open doors to so many different conversations.
That is Spirited Away’s unique strength. It’s why we’re still talking about this film nearly a quarter century after its release. And it’s also precisely why Spirited Away will continue to be talked about for many more decades to come.
Thank you very much for reading! What are your thoughts on Spirited Away? What makes something a masterpiece? Would you describe Spirited Away as a masterpiece? As always, join the conversation and let me know what you think in the comments or on Bluesky @DerekExMachina.com.
