Hayao Miyazaki: Castle in the Sky

by Brian Zitzelman

Following the success of Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, Hayao Miyazaki made the fantasy adventure film Castle in the Sky. Released in 1986, Castle holds a bizarre place in Miyazaki’s filmography. In many ways, the picture is a significant step forward on an animation level, showing Miyazaki’s ability to craft a vast and varied world full of detail. As a director, the skills to craft action set pieces which were hinted at in Nausicaa are robust in this offering. On the storytelling front, however, Miyazaki is consistent but does not advance to the level where he would be declared a master filmmaker. Castle in the Sky is a clear labor of love just not one of Miyazaki’s masterpieces.

The story sets off quickly and contagiously high in the clouds, where a series of pirate ships zip around. With the look, sound and movement of a fly, wings buzzing and shaking, the set of ships are distinct, chasing a gigantic craft in the sky. Inside is Sheeta, a young girl with a magical necklace, kept imprisoned by a mysterious man named Muska. The pirates leap aboard, allowing Sheeta a moment to escape, if by escape one means falling from thousands of feet in the air towards the ground. The beginning is gripping, followed by one of the most beautiful title sequences in recent cinema history. As the credits roll along, Miyazaki reveals a world full of immense vessels carried by numerous propellers, each distinctive and seemingly larger than the last, building to a crescendo where entire islands are lifted into the atmosphere. Miyazaki’s skill at lending a real weight to his animation is one of his most underrated abilities. Worlds float by and feature a bulkiness interpreted through little touches in their design.

Elsewhere, Pazu is introduced - a short man beaming with energy, proud of his work as a miner, even if not an entirely vital one. Returning from a trip to the sandwich shop for his boss, Pazu sees a twinkle in the sky. Slowly descending to the ground is Sheeta. He runs to catch her, realizing it is a person, possibly even an angel. As Pazu grabs Sheeta, he witnesses her necklace glowing brightly; believing it to be what has kept the girl in his arms from the fall so inexplicably. Pazu soon learns that Sheeta is being chased by pirates and her old captor and the two are on the run.

The core of Castle in the Sky is the relationship between these two characters. They are linked souls, each in love with their homes and the tranquility of simple but full lives. Pazu and Sheeta represent a common occurrence in Miyazaki’s work, a not quite romantic relationship between a man and woman which clearly feels more than two close friends. Nausicaa has the titular character and Asbel, Princess Mononoke features San and Ashitaka. All three pairs show deep affection for one another that refrains from spilling into a genuine romance. Pazu and Sheeta carry a tenderness and warmth in their interactions, laughing in the grass together or holed up in a glider, shivering under a blanket to stay warm from chilling winds. It is a curious trait of Miyazaki’s and one uncommon, if not altogether nonexistent in western cinema.

Equally uncommon is the way Miyazaki weaves action alongside terror. Nausicaa’s Giant Warriors are echoed in Castle by a series of massive robots, full of viciously destructive power. Sheeta’s captor Muska's desire to wield them for power is shown to have horrifying results. The robots have the ability to be peaceful and nurturing yet are unleashed on a military base and tear it apart with lethal ferocity. Flames blush, painting dark blue night skies with a red paint of fire and screams for help. Late in the film, Muska uses an even more commanding weapon, the sound of which is disturbingly reminiscent of a nuclear bomb. Miyazaki’s action in Castle almost becomes something one dreads owed to its vibrant consequences. Which doesn’t mean that the guy doesn’t know how to have a good time.

Despite the stakes the director builds, Castle in the Sky is at times Miyazaki’s funniest work. The pirates are the prime example. Chasing after Pazu and Sheeta, a gang of them storms through a town to find answers, meeting up with Pazu’s boss who refuses to help in anyway whatsoever. One of the pirates then proves his masculinity by showing off his muscles, flexing to the point that his arms burst through his clothes, only to find out Pazu’s boss can do the same. The fist fight that follows is absurd, fitting possibly more in a silent era American comedy. Later, as Sheeta boards the pirates airship, the boys onboard do their best to impress her, escalating to the whole lot of them doing arbitrary tasks to help her cook, smiling with childish glee at the opportunity to possibly woo her.

If any fault is to be found with Castle it is with its villain, Muska. He is the least interesting and complex of all of Miyazaki’s villians, who traditionally are multifaceted characters whose bad deeds are rooted in a desire to rectify another’s troubles. Muska is largely a power-hungry man, not simply evil, not altogether intricate or interesting either. Perhaps the plain wickedness of Muska is why Miyazaki’s next feature would contain no traces of bad guys or nemeses, 1988’s My Neighbor Totoro, declared by many to be the filmmaker’s finest work.

Continue to My Neighbor Totoro