On March 26, X (formerly known as Twitter) and other social media sites were suddenly and distressingly flooded with noxious, uncanny images. Old memes (Distracted Boyfriend, Disaster Girl) were suddenly recreated with round-faced, wide-eyed, warmly-lit, pastel animated characters, in a manner that’s initially pleasing but — the longer you look — feels increasingly and disorientingly soulless. Even those who aren’t well-versed in spotting AI-generated works probably wouldn’t be surprised to learn that this wasn’t an artistic trend: All of these images were instead created via OpenAI’s new 4o image generator, done entirely by an algorithm that scanned the beloved works of Studio Ghibli, the powerhouse Japanese animation studio, to replicate the instantly recognizable house style that has made the company such an international cultural juggernaut.
Many fans of Studio Ghibli decried the trend almost immediately, pointing toward generative AI’s infamously negative environmental impact, and — most pertinently — the company’s founder and most beloved director Hayao Miyazaki‘s strong opposition toward AI-generated animation. In a frequently viral 2016 clip where he was shown an AI-tech demo in a meeting, Miyazaki said he would “never wish to incorporate this technology into my work at all” and went as far as to call it “an insult to life itself.”
There are many reasons to feel disgust toward the co-opting of Ghibli’s artistry and the vision of animators like Miyazaki or fellow director Isao Takahata by grifting tech influencers. It reflects a depressing reduction of animation into cheap aesthetic signifiers rather than a true art form, and a culture that has become more concerned with regurgitation and imitation rather than creating something new.
But maybe the greatest sin of all of this is how, as social media has been flooded by pure slop masquerading as Ghibli work, one of the company’s greatest and most eternally relevant films has returned to theaters now, more beautiful and brilliant than ever. With a new 4K restoration courtesy of GKIDS, released to celebrate the 40th anniversary of Ghibli, Miyazaki’s seventh feature “Princess Mononoke” looks amazing onscreen. And the environmental epic, with its moving consideration of the relationship between humanity and the planet we inhabit, is a film that shows how Ghibli’s work can never be replicated by a computer.
Released in 1997 to critical acclaim, “Princess Mononoke” is one of many projects Miyazaki made with the intention that it would be a swan song to his career, well before “The Boy and the Heron” or “The Wind Rises” were advertised as the director’s final film. You can feel how the director wanted to leave a statement in the final product, which feels positively enormous by the standards of most animated films. The initial ideas that would bloom into “Princess Mononoke” originated in 1980, right after Miyazaki directed his first film “The Castle of Cagliostro.” Conceived as a cross between “Beauty and the Beast” and Japanese folklore, the initial concept shifted substantially over the years, until Miyazaki finally used the success of his 1992 feature “Porco Rosso” to begin real development on the project.
No expense was spared in production. The most expensive animated film produced in Japan at the time to the tune of 2.35 billion Yen, “Princess Mononoke” cost over double that of any previous Ghibli film. Made right on the precipice of digital animation, the film was still largely done via traditional hand-drawn animated techniques, and a staggering 144,000 cells were created to build the film’s world, a fantastical vision of Muromachi-era feudal Japan.
The result is a film that is never anything less than stunning — and one that, with its high-fantasy trappings, menacing creatures of the forest, and sometimes bloody action, is far more distinctive and mesmerizing than the flattened, stereotypically cute anime drawings that AI-generated algorithms spit out and pass off as Ghibli. The lush landscapes of forests and fields that warrior prince Ashitaka traverses in his quest to cure the curse inflicted on him by the boar god Nago are teeming with details, with attention to the breeze on a mountain or the light peeking through the branches of a tree that makes this world feel tactile and real. The character designs, inspired by Japanese history and folklore, are instantly iconic, from the terrifying demon boar that opens the movie to the iconic outfit of the eponymous San, a human girl who has become an ally and protector of the wolf gods and whose path crosses with Ashitaka.
Not every single part of this fantasy adventure was completely hand-drawn. Most notably, “Princess Mononoke” was the first Ghibli film to feature CGI effects, using digital compositing to place 3D effects within the gorgeous 2D landscape. Most prominently, the curse that befouls Ashitaka manifests as a whirling mass of black and red tentacles on his right hand, a frightening display that is seamlessly integrated into the frame but still feels disquieting and disturbing, something outside of the world. It’s a canny use of the new technology that might have been done for practical reasons, but also reflects upon the themes of the story, a queasy and complicated tale of the relationship between humanity and nature in which technology and modernization are both a poison and an inevitability.
As Ashitaka’s quest takes him to San’s home, where she fights with a clan of wolves and where a god of life and death known as the Forest Spirit dwells, he also encounters the town of Tataraba (or Iron Town), a settlement ruled by the ambitious Lady Eboshi. Consisting mostly of those disenfranchised by warfare that has ravaged the country, Tataraba is a small settlement that Eboshi is determined to see thrive, using new technology like guns to defend her home. She’s also determined to raze the forest to mine iron and kill the gods that rule over the land, all for the good of her people, putting her directly in conflict with San, who deeply distrusts even the most benevolent of humans.
Environmental storytelling is often dismissed by some as overly preachy and pat. What makes “Princess Mononoke” not just a good film but a great one is the empathy it has for everyone involved within this conflict. Rather than the simple good vs. evil story that its setup might be leading to, “Princess Mononoke” strives to showcase the complexities of both the spirits and the humans, who have inter-faction conflict and disagreements over their goals and the methods they’re willing to take to achieve them. There’s no true villain in the movie, just a sickness unleashed upon the land that the heroes need to dispel, brought forth by people with good intentions but whose actions prove disastrous and uncaring toward the equilibrium between humanity and spirits.
When the film released in the ’90s, a decade riddled with animation preaching to save the environment such as “FernGully: the Last Rainforest,” “Princess Mononoke” might not have seemed radical on the surface. Today, as carelessness and wastefulness towards the planet and its resources continue even as the climate crisis grows more dire, there’s something all the more impactful about Miyazaki’s warnings that we must find balance in our relationship with nature before tragedy strikes.
“Princess Mononoke” isn’t a tragedy, of course, but its ending isn’t an unqualified triumph either. San and Ashitaka defeat the curse and restore the forest to its original beauty, but the destruction and the bloodshed still leave scars upon the land and the people. Rather than fully building a life together, the two main characters resolve to visit each other even as their worlds remain separate. “I love you,” San tells Ashitaka as they part, “but I’ll never forgive the human race.” “Princess Mononoke” is a film that, with its sheer beauty and its sincere appreciation for the magic of the world around us, inspires viewers to prove that the human race can be worthy of that forgiveness. AI-generated, planet-destroying “Ghibli art?” That’s more liable to make you feel like humanity has gone beyond salvation.
The IMAX restoration of “Princess Mononoke” is playing in theaters now.
