WHISPER OF THE HEART (1995)

Yoshifumi Kondō’s Whisper of the Heart / 耳をすませば, one of the lesser-known films by acclaimed Japanese animation studio Studio Ghibli, is very famous online, but only through a technicality. With the film revolving around the love life and search for purpose of Shizuku Tsukishima (Yōko Honna), a 14-year-old girl with a love of literature, there are a number of scenes showing her diligently studying or accepting her newfound passion in writing. A GIF of one such scene was used for the Lofi Girl, the visual component of a channel dedicated to creating long-form videos comprised of gentle, lo-fi music intended for studying or relaxing. Concerns over copyright infringement have meant that the Lofi Girl has since had a makeover, but for a time it was Shizuku who was the cover girl for these immensely popular videos.

Although this isn’t one of Studio Ghibli’s finest works, Whisper of the Heart does deserve a wider legacy outside of this important footnote in internet culture. In many respects its greatest asset is also what stops it from being truly compelling, with this movie never shying from modesty as it explores its protagonist’s blossoming romantic interest in a boy she doesn’t even know. All Shizuku has to go on is a name she doesn’t recognise, which crops up in almost every book she picks out from her school library. Seiji Amasawa (Issey Takahashi), the name that can always be found listed under the previous borrowers of these novels, becomes a source of deep fascination for this avid reader and writer, whose interest in consuming and creating fiction only enhances her intrigue in a boy who, at this point, exists somewhere in the ethereal realm between imagination and reality.

Now, it’s no great surprise who this is, with the very first scene introducing this character in person betraying his identity immediately to keen viewers. For those who miss this connection at first, it becomes more obvious with each inclusion, by which point it becomes a bit of a slog waiting for Shizuku to learn of his identity. The film takes its time developing, well, much of anything. It’s enjoyable to linger in this hopeful and naive youngster’s daily routine for a time, making this feel like more of a hangout movie than one attempting to make each moment feel precious.

But that’s not a sensibility that pairs well with the intensity of attraction, especially when this is a form of romantic intrigue that is clouded in mystery. One would expect that an animated film about a young girl with a vivid imagination developing a connection with someone she doesn’t know would contain dream sequences that demonstrate how her interests in creative writing and storytelling enhance her piqued curiosity. Instead, that’s almost completely absent, only arriving for a brief inclusion long after this story and its characters focused on this area.

Instead, we’re treated to many scenes with Shizuku and her best friend Yūko Harada (Maiko Kayama), her interactions with her parents and sister, and her interest in a stray cat that leads to her following the creature to one of its homes. Only the latter aspect of Shizuku’s daily life enhances the plot; Hayao Miyazaki’s script is rarely dull, but it’s surprisingly incurious about the rich world of a young person’s dreams, especially someone so creative and smitten. More out-there sequences wouldn’t just liven up a visual palette that offers no surprises, it would effectively foreshadow the fervent bout of creativity that overtakes this protagonist later.

One would think that the simplicity of this story exists purely as a form of setup, where Shizuku and Seiji’s eventual union will either end in a painful gut-punch or a heartwarming denouement. Whatever the case, there’s an expectation of a creeping or sudden sense of urgency in this tale, if only to counteract such a slow-moving and modest opening section. But just as the pair begin to learn about one another, their opportunity at forging a connection is threatened, perhaps indefinitely, as Seiji has his heart set on foregoing high school to study how to fine-tune the craft of constructing violins in Cremona, Italy. More time spent with these characters, whether in Shizuku’s imagination of this teenage boy or the duo’s interactions together, might have infused some degree of sorrow at this news. There’s the start of what could be a blossoming connection, whose tenuous link between Shizuku and Seiji is threatened with being destroyed far too early to truly resonate. At this juncture in the story, him leaving for good would be more a case of a missed opportunity than a tragic severing of a couple.

The story then shifts towards Shizuku’s desperation to develop the kind of purpose in life that Seiji has, a drive that might be more compelling if it wasn’t such an abrupt left turn, or if it wasn’t prompted by the decision-making of a boy she hardly knows. As if in a trance, this protagonist is possessed by an urge stronger than all her competing emotions to write a fantasy story, only to then realise that she has all the time in the world to decide her fate, and that rushing through a single story isn’t going to change anything about her future or her overall abilities as a writer. Just like Seiji’s identity, this is another area where viewers are waiting for this main character to catch up to these obvious sentiments, with this story proving too modest to forget how trivial these quests are (though it does contain a good lesson for kids to follow).

Whisper of the Heart was the most popular domestic film in Japan in its year of release, but decades later it’s practically an afterthought when paired up against the popular Studio Ghibli features. Now it suffers a different kind of fate, with its themes and plot being easily eclipsed by the 2024 feature Look Back, a tragic and beautiful animated film from Japan that effortlessly conveys the glorious and thankless aspects of making art, the mania that this produces to the detriment of the rest of one’s life, a connection between two people that transcends all words that could be used to describe it, and a dynamic that begins with said characters only knowing of the other person’s name, yet caring deeply about the other person nonetheless. While Whisper of the Heart cheerily meanders for long stretches, Look Back is one of the best exercises in brevity in modern cinema, with a wide-spanning plot in terms of the story’s chronology, scope, and emotional landscape, all portrayed in just 58 minutes.

Compared to this beautiful work of art, Whisper of the Heart comes across as lightweight and flimsy. These are unfair descriptors to address Kondō’s film on its own merits, however; it might not be gripping, but there are some worthwhile tender moments along the way. But though it’s impressive how adeptly Miyazaki and Kondō avoid saccharine sentimentality in this genuinely sweet tale, it’s Whisper of the Heart’s lack of urgency that ultimately proves to be its defining trait.

JAPAN | 1995 | 111 MINUTES | 1.85:1 | COLOUR | JAPANESE

Cast & Crew

director: Yoshifumi Kondō.
writer: Hayao Miyazaki (based on ‘Mimi o Sumaseba’ by Aoi Hirriagi).
voices: Yōko Honna, Issei Takahashi, Takashi Tachibana, Shigeru Muroi, Shigeru Tsuyuguchi & Keiju Kobayashi.