Little Mei and Satsuki have moved to a new town. Their mother Yasuko is in hospital undergoing treatment. They live with their father Tatsuo, a university professor, in a charming old “wreck” of a house by a great camphor tree at the edge of the forest. Mei has made the joyous acquaintance of Totoro, a mysterious kami, a guardian spirit of the forest. The Kusakabe family is slowly settling in.
One rainy evening, Satsuki and Mei are waiting at the deserted Tokyo Electric railway bus stop with an extra umbrella for their father. It’s getting dark and the rain isn’t letting up. Under the solitary street lamp, Satsuki is playing ayatori, cat’s cradle, a game of changing shapes. Rain falls in glinting lines parallel to the tall dark trees. Mei is falling asleep clutching her sister’s skirt, and is soon hoisted piggyback. Ripples spread in overlapping circles in puddles.
Footsteps. A large furry foot with five claws sloshes into view. Totoro! Enormous Totoro wearing a tiny leaf hat, raindrops falling on his nose plink plink. Satsuki lends him the spare umbrella. The first patter of raindrops on the umbrella trrtt makes his fur stand on end. He listens with growing thrill. Until he can’t bear it anymore and makes a thunderous bounce that lets loose a deluge upon their heads. He roars in delight. Catbus arrives beaming, wearing a matching grin. As he leaves, Totoro hands Mei a tiny parcel “wrapped in bamboo leaves and tied with dragon whiskers, full of magic nuts and seeds”.
The sisters plant the seeds in the garden. Mei squats all day with a watering can waiting for them to sprout.
Now the moon is full. Someone holding an umbrella is walking round and round the plot with two little companions. Oh, they’re jumping over the plot and back! Satsuki and Mei rush out from under their mosquito nets. They take their places. It’s time.
Hands together squeezing down, up and back stretching wide, squeezing down, stretching wide, squeezing down, stretching wide. Totoro grunts in effort, sweat beading on his fursome forehead. A sprout pops up from the earth pop. Satsuki powers through, brow furrowed, elbows out. Mei digs her toes in and tilts her head back extra. All pull together, and more sprouts go pop pop pop pop.
An invisible threshold has been crossed, and now they’re flowing in unison, and the plants are growing. Down to the earth, up to the sky. The plants are growing into trees. Down to the earth, up to the sky. Their trunks are growing taller and taller and thicker and thicker. Down to the earth, up to the sky. Their foliage is dwarfing the house where their father is working by lamplight, crowding the clouds out of the night sky. Down to the earth, up to the sky.
A forest has come to be. And it’s now time to fly.
Clip: Here’s the scene. Watching the whole film in the original Japanese audio is way better, though. Always sub, never dub.
Image: Totoro, Satsuki, Mei, and their little companions grow a magical forest overnight. The way they stand—their relative postures—makes the rhythm Ta-ta-ta-Ta-ta. My Neighbor Totoro, 1988. Hayao Miyazaki, Studio Ghibli. Now running on Netflix. Screenshot from CBR.
#sound #shape #posture #gesture #movement #story #filmreco