PONYO (GAKE NO UE NO PONYO)

Rating: 3

Hayao Miyasaki’s PONYO is a sweet-natured flight of fantasy that lacks any real sense of conflict or danger. It makes up for it, at least for the younger set, with a delightfully absurd internal logic that is perfectly keyed into the way small children see the world. All things are possible, including a little girl who used to be a fish running along on the top of steep ocean waves whipped up by a storm.
The eponymous Ponyo is a magical sea creature, the offspring of a disgruntled ex-human and a sea goddess. Unlike her myriad sisters, Ponyo has a sense of adventure and a penchant for napping that gets her into trouble. When she drifts off while riding a giant jellyfish, she ends up on dry land with five-year-old Saskuo. He finds nothing at all odd about a talking goldfish with a human face and a flippered body that looks like a beanbag. Rather, he is enchanted by her puckish sense of humor. For her part, Ponyo is much taken with Saskuo, particularly after he introduces her to ham. Theirs is a bond that transcends the limits of physiology, or even phylum. Ponyo’s determination to become human in order to remain with Saskuo forever upsets the balance of nature, drawing the moon dangerously close to the earth, and populates the sea with creatures from another time. While her father, a man with striped jacket, pink cravat, and narrow views about such things, can only chase after Ponyo with the grim determination of the true misanthrope, her mother sets a test for Saskuo to prove his love for Ponyo, restore nature’s balance, and allow her to live on land forever.
Shades of THE LITTLE MERMAID, Ponyo’s hair is even the same flame-color as another undersea maiden longing for life in the fresh air. There are no singing crabs, though, but there are crustaceans aplenty and with an appetite for magic elixirs. Further comparisons are futile. This story is the product of a gentle soul with an unconventional imagination and a vibrant whimsy. Miyasaki, via Ponyo, finds equal wonder in aquatic creatures from the Devonian era and in a steaming bowl of ramen noodles (topped with ham, of course). The visuals are sublime, gracefully reflecting Miyzaki‘s inner eye. Waves that transmute themselves into ocean-tinted carp, an octopus slyly making its way unseen into a living room, and clouds of jellyfish drifting through submerged trees. As for the image of Ponyo’s hundreds of tiny sisters kissing the bubble in which her father has imprisoned her, it is just possible there is a coincidence involved in its startling resemblance to an ovum under attack by an army of spermatozoa.
As for Saskuo’s test, it’s a foregone outcome, as is the outcome of the terrible storm that sweeps Saksuo’s mother away and threatens the ship that his father captains. The real story is love and the responsibility that comes with it to accept the object of that affection for who, or in some cases what, they are. The lesson is not subtle, but delivered with a brisk sense of humor that overcomes the sometimes stilted dialogue dubbed in English using talent, such as Liam Neeson and Tina Fey, who all have a wry way with intonation. Ponyo is far from Miyasaki’s best film, but even a lesser work from such a master is irresistible.