The Boy and the Heron: Studio Ghibli’s latest opus soars (anime film: trailer).

In the world of whimsical adventures and animated extravaganzas, The Boy and the Heron swoops in – quite literally – as the latest jewel in the crown of Studio Ghibli. When Hayao Miyazaki says “I’m back,” he doesn’t just tip-toe into the limelight; he bursts through it with the force of a thousand parakeets. Speaking of which, parakeets in this film are not your average Twitter pals. More on that later.

So, picture this: Mahito Maki, our hero with a heart as big as his grief, enters stage left. His mother’s gone, his new town is as welcoming as a porcupine at a balloon party, and a grey heron, probably the only bird with a sass level over 9000, decides to make Mahito’s life even more interesting. This isn’t your typical “boy meets bird” story unless your typical stories involve ruined towers and magical alternate worlds.

Miyazaki, who once waved goodbye to filmmaking only to run back with open arms, has outdone himself. The production was a seven-year marathon with hurdles like the pandemic and, let’s face it, Miyazaki’s penchant for taking his sweet, artistic time. The title, The Boy and the Heron, might have been snatched from a 1937 novel, but the story? All original, folks. And what a tale it is – full of fantasy, conflict, loss, and a talking bird that’s more than it seems.

Our dear Mahito finds solace in a novel that once belonged to his mother, and just as he’s about to have a lovely read, reality hits him like a rock – quite literally, again, because that’s exactly what he uses to hit himself. Off we go into a fantasy world, where Mahito’s archery skills would make Robin Hood hang up his hat. Here, he meets a cast of characters that would have Lewis Carroll taking notes: a seafaring lady, a magical Himi, and a wizard granduncle who’s basically the Dumbledore of the piece.

Let’s not forget the giant man-eating parakeets, which, to be honest, make pigeons look like doves at a wedding. Mahito must navigate this wild world, where his bow and resolve are tested, and the concept of family is as twisted as the plot itself.

Now, the voice cast is like the who’s who of “voices you want to narrate your life.” Soma Santoki brings Mahito to life, while the grey heron gets its attitude from Masaki Suda. Then you have stars like Aimyon, Takuya Kimura, and the English dub reads like a Hollywood walk of fame.

Themes? We’ve got plenty. It’s a smorgasbord of Miyazaki’s own life, a coming-of-age buffet with a side dish of deep messages and emotional gravy. You’ll find pieces of Miyazaki’s soul scattered throughout, from Mahito’s father’s war-time job to the resilience against life’s cruelties. It’s a love letter to overcoming selfishness and learning to live for others – pretty deep for an animated flick, huh?

The film’s release was as mysterious as its plot, with Ghibli playing the silent movie card until the premiere – talk about playing hard to get. But the strategy paid off, and the movie soared financially and critically, leaving audiences worldwide wondering if they, too, might find a talking heron in their backyard.

The Boy and the Heron doesn’t just fly – it soars, proving once again that Miyazaki’s imagination is a force to be reckoned with, and even giant parakeets can’t bring it down. It’s a fantastical journey that insists we take a good look at ourselves and ask, “How do you live?” – a question we could all ponder, preferably not while being chased by oversized birds.