The Boy and the Heron (2023)
There is a particular kind of anticipation that surrounds any new Hayao Miyazaki film, and by 2023 that anticipation had curdled into something closer to disbelief. The director had, after all, announced his retirement in 2013 following the release of The Wind Rises, only to quietly reverse course a few years later and begin work on what would become The Boy and the Heron. Released in Japan under the title Kimitachi wa Dō Ikiru ka (loosely, "How Do You Live?"), a reference to a beloved 1937 coming-of-age novel by Genzaburo Yoshino, the film is only loosely connected to that source material. Miyazaki has said openly that it draws on his own childhood, the wartime death of a parent, displacement, guilt and the particular strangeness of growing up during a period of national catastrophe. It is set during the Second World War, in rural Japan, and it carries that weight with a kind of quiet honesty that feels earned rather than performed. Studio Ghibli released it with virtually no advance marketing, no trailer, no promotional stills beyond a single hand-drawn image of a grey heron. That decision was either an act of supreme confidence or a gentle provocation, quite possibly both.
Miyazaki has, over five decades, built a body of work that functions almost as its own genre. From Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind in 1984 through to the ecological fury of Princess Mononoke and the luminous domestic magic of My Neighbor Totoro, he has consistently returned to the same preoccupations: childhood on the threshold of adult understanding, the natural world as something alive and not entirely friendly, and the strange comfort that the fantastical can offer in the face of grief. The Boy and the Heron sits squarely within that tradition while feeling, by most accounts, more personal than anything he has made before. The production was handled entirely in-house at Studio Ghibli, with the studio's legendary commitment to hand-drawn animation intact, and composer Joe Hisaishi returning once again to provide the score, a partnership now so long-running it has become one of cinema's more reliable pleasures.
The Japanese voice cast brings considerable weight to proceedings. Soma Santoki, a relative newcomer, voices the teenage Mahito, and his performance carries the simmering, reluctant quality the role demands. Masaki Suda lends the grey heron a slippery, unsettling energy, neither fully threatening nor reassuring, which is rather the point. Ko Shibasaki, Aimyon and Yoshino Kimura round out a cast that mixes established names with musicians making acting turns, and the result is polished but unselfconscious, the kind of ensemble where nobody is visibly trying to impress. For those who have followed Miyazaki's work through earlier films like Spirited Away or Howl's Moving Castle, the DNA here will feel immediately familiar, even as the emotional register shifts toward something quieter and more inward-looking.
Hayao Miyazaki’s 2023 masterpiece The Boy and the Heron is under the immense weight of this being the passion project the legendary director has wanted to make for a very long time.
The premise is a beautifully melancholic hook: while the Second World War rages, a teenage boy named Mahito, haunted by his mother’s tragic death, is relocated from Tokyo to the serene rural home of his new stepmother Natsuko. As he tries to adjust to this strange new world, it grows even stranger following the appearance of a persistent, talking grey heron who perplexes and bedevils him, dubbing Mahito the "long-awaited one". It’s a deeply personal, semi-autobiographical setup that immediately grounds the fantastical elements in genuine emotional reality.
When it comes to the visual execution, the art style is absolutely cracking, as we’ve come to expect from Studio Ghibli. In fact, I’d go as far as to say it might just be the best-looking Ghibli film ever made. As someone who deeply appreciates hand-drawn animation and feels it captures a vital, breathing soul that modern computer-generated imagery so often misses, I was completely mesmerised by every single frame. The vibrant, lush backgrounds and the fluid, expressive character designs are a visual triumph. Coupled with that, the voice acting is amazing across the board, bringing a wonderful warmth and authenticity to the eclectic cast of characters that populate Mahito's surreal journey.
If there is a slight hitch, it’s that the narrative isn't quite as strong or relentlessly engaging as the true, undisputed greats of Miyazaki’s filmography like Spirited Away, Howl's Moving Castle, or Totoro. The pacing can be a touch meandering, and the world-building, while spectacular, doesn't always lock together as tightly as those earlier masterpieces.
However, in many ways, it is deeply reminiscent of My Neighbour Totoro, sharing that same quiet, profound exploration of childhood grief, rural isolation, and the comforting embrace of magical creatures. It’s a touching and heartfelt story that trades the high-stakes, adrenaline-fuelled adventure of his other films for a more reflective, deeply emotional resonance.
The Boy and the Heron is a stunning, triumph that proves Hayao Miyazaki is still a master of his craft, even if this particular tale doesn't quite reach the dizzying narrative heights of his absolute best. It’s a beautiful, hand-drawn love letter to life, loss, and the enduring power of imagination that will absolutely resonate with anyone who appreciates the art of traditional animation.
While it might not be as instantly gripping as the classics that defined the studio, it remains a magnificent, deeply moving piece of cinema. The Boy and the Heron is a breathtaking, visually flawless experience that cements Miyazaki’s legacy as one of the greatest storytellers in the history of the medium.
The Boy and the Heron arrives carrying the particular burden of being, possibly, a final word, though Miyazaki has made enough of those to treat the label with a degree of scepticism. What it offers is something rarer than a crowdpleasing return: a film that seems genuinely unconcerned with whether you find its rhythms convenient. Audiences and critics have largely responded with warmth, and its Academy Award win for Best Animated Feature in early 2024 confirmed that the wider world was paying attention. Whether it ranks among the director's finest will depend, as it always does with Miyazaki, on which of his films got to you first. Some stories do not need to be the best version of themselves to matter. They just need to be true enough.
Rating: ★★★★ | Year: 2023 | Watched: 2026-07-10
Trailer
▶ Watch the official trailer for The Boy and the Heron (2023) on YouTube
Where to watch
Watch in the UK
Stream: Netflix · Netflix Standard with Ads
Physical: Amazon UK · Zavvi
Watch in the US
Stream: HBO Max Amazon Channel · YouTube TV · HBO Max
Rent: Amazon Video · Apple TV Store · Google Play Movies · YouTube
Buy: Amazon Video · Apple TV Store · Google Play Movies · YouTube
Physical: Amazon US
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