Animé sans Pikachu, gorgeous but derivative

COURTESY MIRAMAX Prince Ashitaka: falling in love with the wolf-girl

Like many animé films, Princess Mononoke tells the story of a mythic conflict between larger-than-life characters, set against a Japanese historical background (in this case, sometime between the 14th and 16th centuries). Ashitaka, the last prince of a dwindling tribe, must travel through foreign lands and forests filled with magical beings to meet his fate. During his journey, he becomes involved in a struggle between a human town that must destroy the surrounding forest to survive, and the intelligent beasts trying to protect their sylvan home. Lady Eboshi, a strong and stubborn woman whose great compassion does not extend to animals, rules the town, while Princess Mononoke, a human girl raised by a wolf god, helps her mother protect the forest. As Ashitaka tries to convince the humans and beasts to live together peacefully, the plot grows ever thicker, with a host of other parties pursuing their own conflicting agendas.

Despite its complexity, the plot never becomes too confusing, largely thanks to vivid and skillful characterization. Since the movements and facial expressions of the characters are limited in their subtlety by the stylized animation, the script and its delivery serve as the main means of conveying emotion and character development. The script, written by Hayao Miyazaki (who also directed the movie), fills the film with the requisite "legendary times" narration and the amusingly inane chitter-chatter that seems to be native to animé. Miyazaki's script is clear and well written, even though some dialogue, as is animé's wont, still made me cringe.

The quality of the voice acting, on the other hand, varies from scene to scene, as well as among the characters. Billy Bob Thornton is excellent as Jigo, an opportunistic monk. He sounds exactly as he should, considering Jigo's short, stocky figure and weatherworn face. Billy Crudup is also good as Ashitaka, making a very young character sound believably fierce. And, lest I forget, the rumbling, hoarse voices of the giant beasts are satisfying, almost to the point of being indecent.

Some of the other voices, however, are disappointing. Claire Danes', CC '02, Princess Mononoke sounds young, but rarely wild—many lines have a canned, artificial feeling. As Lady Eboshi, Minnie Driver's British accent, which arises now and again, sounds rather bizarre in this particular context.

But, though the plot, the script, and the voice acting are all generally good, the best thing about Princess Mononoke is its visuals. The quality of the artwork and the animation are superb. The amount of detail in the backgrounds varies, but the subtle coloring and accurate shading remain constant. In an extreme long shot of Ashitaka riding westward, away from his village, endless fields of grass sway together under a strong wind. The shot both conveys the grandeur of the plains, and mirrors Ashitaka's desolate sadness. Later, when Ashitaka comes upon a hidden pool deep in the forest, the play of light on the shallow water shows that the place is magical without resorting to any obvious devices.

The stylized movement of the characters is even more impressive, although not particularly original. The superhuman speed and dexterity with which the heroes and villains dodge arrows and scale cliffs work well within the mythical story. So the 100-foot leaps of the wolves aren't terribly realistic—and if you take issue with such blatant disregard for physical laws, you will probably hate this movie. But, after all, Princess Mononoke is an adventure, and all the impossible feats are essential to keeping up with the pace of the story. Plus, like the voices of the beasts, they are almost vulgarly satisfying.

Finally, the more fantastical beasts are either extraordinarily beautiful or disgustingly ugly, but fascinating to look at in either case. When the Night-walker first appears, its towering half-human body almost completely translucent in the moonlight, its movements slow and graceful, time slows down to admire the sight. And, of course, there is the movie's unofficial mascot—the little forest spirit with a head that spins and makes a fun clicking noise (actually, there are thousands of these little spirits, and they all make the fun clicking noise). Clever.

For all its merits, Princess Mononoke feels derivative of Miyazaki's earlier work, particularly his long manga Nausica of the Valley of Wind. Many of the concepts, the settings, some of the creatures, and even, to a smaller extent, the plot of Princess Mononoke come from Nausica. Therefore, I conclude with the inimitable words of innumerable hacks: if you liked Princess Mononoke, you'll love Nausica.

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