What makes the films of Hayao Miyazaki feel magical?
Like any great magic trick,
the secret to Miyazaki's magic
hides in plain sight.
In the case of "Spirited Away,"
in a simple moment such as this.
Or this.
On the surface, moments like this
where nothing happens
might seem like filler,
but the six-minute sequence of "Spirited Away"
in which nothing really happens
might best exemplify the secret
to why the world of Miyazaki
feels so spectacularly magical.
The scene in question occurs 44 minutes into the film,
the morning after our heroine, Chihiro,
takes a job at a magical bathhouse for gods and spirits,
which happens to be owned by the same witch
who turned Chihiro's parents into pigs.
Here's how the scene starts.
Haku: Meet me at the bridge.
I'll take you to your parents.
[Chihiro gasps]
Narrator: Here's a question:
What shot would you guess comes after this?
In most cases, it would look like this:
cutting straight to the bridge
where they had promised to meet.
But instead, Miyazaki does this:
painstakingly showing Chihiro's journey from the bedroom
all the way to the bridge,
all locations that we've seen her pass the other way around.
This is why Miyazaki's world feels so real.
Because as magical as it is,
there is a sense of space portrayed
through time, distance, and scale.
That's why a quick moment that introduces a location
like this is so simple, yet genius.
Because despite being a location we've never seen before,
by the time Chihiro gets there,
we know exactly where it is
compared to the rest of the world.
Going back to the story,
this specific six-minute sequence
is what's referred to as a pinch in a screenplay -
a moment that occurs approximately
three-eighths of the way into a script
that gives the audience a moment to breathe
and reminds them what's going on,
like all the side characters that will later
play a vital role in the story
and, most importantly, what's at stake.
The short interaction between Haku and Chihiro at the farm
is full of these reminders of what's at stake.
Like the fate of Chihiro's parents.
Chihiro: Mom!
Dad!
What's wrong with them?
Haku: They don't remember being human.
So look hard. It's up to you
to remember which ones they are.
Narrator: Or Chihiro's own identity.
Chihiro: Chihiro. That's my name, isn't it?
Haku: That's how Yubaba controls you,
by stealing your name.
Narrator: These reminders are Miyazaki's way
of easily guiding the audience through the journey,
letting them know exactly what has happened
and also where it's heading.
Which leads us to the moment
that truly makes the scene magical.
Miyazaki's films are famous for their culinary scenes,
showing characters either cooking or eating in silence.
It's never just a dining scene,
but rather a moment when characters bond with one another
and also a moment that Miyazaki refers to as "ma,"
meaning emptiness in Japanese.
In one of his interviews,
Miyazaki describes it as the time between a clap,
[claps]
explaining:
You can actually find these instances of ma
in all of Miyazaki's films.
A moment when time just seems to stop.
Nothing really happens,
yet you feel yourself absorbed by its world.
Sometimes it's just watching someone
eat a rice ball in tears.
In a sense, this entire six-minute sequence
is a perfect example of Miyazaki's ma.
Nothing really happens.
It's just six minutes of a world we'd already seen,
reminding us of the story we already know,
watching things that happen that have no real consequences.
Yet it's these moments that make
the films of Miyazaki so magical.
As exciting as its final reveal is,
what makes a magic trick so special
is the anticipation that precedes it.