My Neighbor Totoro: This Film Changed My Life
My New Hampshire farmland was as magical as Mei’s and Satsuki’s.
By SOPHIA WALKER
The beautiful thing about Hayao Miyazaki’s My Neighbor Totoro (1988) is that it doesn’t need words.
As a child, my favorite movie was one I couldn’t even understand. My mother sat me down in front of an unsubtitled Japanese-language video cassette of Tonari no Totoro (My Neighbor Totoro), and I was absorbed — from its perky opening montage with all the bugs and spiders to its closing animation.
The plot is simple: two children and their father move into an old farmhouse in rural, 1950s-era Japan. While there, they meet the spirit of the grand old tree next door — a giant, fluffy, mysterious creature named Totoro.
I could analyze this film through any number of intellectual lenses, but I’ll stick to what I saw as a little girl, when I understood only a few key words and relied entirely upon the narration of Miyazaki’s watercolor animation.
I identified (and still identify) with the characters Mei and Satsuki. Satsuki is the protective older sister, and Mei is the adventurous four-year-old who sees magic everywhere. They explore their crumbling farm with a joy and sense of adventure only small children can summon.
Their discovery of a small rabbit-like tree spirit under their porch is not so much shocking as it is exciting. No chore or task is too much for the lively spirits to imbue with the pure exhilaration of living.
I grew up in a large, old farmhouse in New Hampshire (below) and vividly remember venturing barefoot into the barn and navigating the ancient ceiling rafters. I remember how convinced I was that fairies lived in the hayfield and near the ice pond.
My own attic and fields and woodlands went on forever, hiding secrets meant exclusively for me. My world in New Hampshire was equally as magical as Mei’s and Satsuki’s. Totoro never showed himself to me, but I knew he was there.
And yet, as children do, I eventually lost what I once could see. I became distracted, a serious student athlete with her eye on college. I worked hard and succeeded, but I lost the magic I once had. The world became scientific and predictable.
My Neighbor Totoro has allowed me to regain the magic of my childhood. To watch the film as an adult is to have a piece of my youth reflected back at me, a joy I musn’t forget. I realize that six-year-old me is still there, just buried a bit under my later selves.
My Neighbor Totoro didn’t necessarily change my life, but in many ways, it is my life, and me. I just need to make sure the spirit of the grand old tree knows he is always welcome.
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