Fantasy, Femininity and Heroism: A look into Miyazaki’s female characters

The representation of femininity within animation can sometimes indulge in and reflect problematic modes of gender representation. There is, of course, a long history of demonising forms of femininity, with stereotypical and socially constructed feminine traits including empathy, kindness, warmth and nurturance (see Kite 2001, 563). Not only are these traits often enforced onto women (Wing Sue 2010, 172), but are also conventionally considered signs of weakness (Windsor 2015, 893-897). In a patriarchal society, these qualities are also seen as inferior compared to traits society has deemed as masculine, which are usually rewarded and upheld, especially when thinking about notions of heroism. Stereotypical masculine traits such as leadership, assertiveness and physical strength, are often used as a baseline of what we measure as strength and weakness. This rigid binary can result in a toxic masculinity that devalues anything feminine. Sarah Banet-Weiser and Kate M. Miltner define toxic masculinity as “a (heterosexual) masculinity that is threatened by anything associated with femininity” (2015, 171). The ramification of this serves to foster a mentality that emphasises the assertion of domination and power over others through (but not limited to) verbal and physical violence. It promotes regressive ideas such as “real men don’t cry” and a refusal to acknowledge emotions. In animation, these problematic and unquestioned binaries can ultimately be reiterated (see Batkin 2017). Growing up and watching certain depictions of gender within a range of animated media gave me complicated feelings about girlhood and femininity. I developed a ‘not like other girls’ mentality, and tried to gain a sense of empowerment by distancing myself from other girls and notions of ‘femininity’ in general. However, I felt differently when watching the animated fantasy films made by Hayao Miyazaki. I felt ‘seen’ in his female characters, and the autonomy that they presented felt attainable for my younger self. In this blog post I want to dissect how Miyazaki blurs accepted gender binaries, and depicts femininity as strength in ways that spoke to my own real-world experiences, through a close examination of the two Studio Ghibli features Spirited Away (2001) and Princess Mononoke (1997).

Before I delve into the work of Miyazaki, I wanted to touch on the way that femininity has been presented in and problematised by the Disney studio, particularly as they have often been the subject of ideological criticisms related to the construction of gender and gendered norms. From Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (David Hand, 1937) to Mulan (Tony Bancroft & Barry Cook, 1998), the studio has made a deliberate effort to push for a more progressive mode of gender representation. We have seen the shift from ‘passive damsels’ to ‘active heroes,’ (Hugel 2013) as Disney has outwardly sought to align themselves with mainstream (centrist) feminists ideas of gender liberation, and made concerted efforts to distance themselves from (or at least update) their Princess brand. Yet I feel that in doing so, Disney has unintentionally created a juxtaposition between their previous princesses of the Golden Age that dawned stereotypical feminine qualities and their newer ‘postfeminist’ princesses (see Stover 2013). The passive nature of the previous princesses become equated with qualities such as kindness and empathy, making it seem like these traits are inherently tied to their lack of agency. Combined with Disney’s marketing techniques of selling these princesses based on their physical beauty, it makes for a mixed and counterproductive message. Cassandra Stover highlights precisely this paradox as she writes “the passive beauty of Snow White mingles with the strength and determination of Belle, resulting in products that equate independence and agency with attractive appearance in the eyes of the consumer. When little girls process these images, the ability to identify with a strong female character becomes the desire to dress like her, to emulate in appearance not action” (2013, 8). This contributes to harmful ideas by prioritising beauty and appearance and equating it with ‘goodness.’ In turn, femininity has been boxed into both areas of objectification and inferiority. It becomes very clear how this empowerment is being commodified. We aren’t being represented, we are being marketed to, making this form of representation pandering and awkward to absorb.

Often viewed as a counterpoint to Disney, Miyazaki is well known for his more positive representations of female protagonists, who are typically young women and girls. (Condry 2015, 1). This presentation corresponds with Japanese shōjo culture; a culture that aims its products at young adolescent females. Typically, the characters of shōjo anime and manga can be described as an antithesis to adulthood because, as Kumiko Saito states, in adulthood “women are expected to undertake domestic duties” (2014, 143). As a result, the Shōjo is one that is alleviated from these restrictive stereotypical gender roles of adult women. One of the key characteristics recognised in shōjo anime is that of transformation, with animation as a medium able to create exaggerated visual changes beyond that achievable in live-action imagery. As Susan Napier states, “the male transformation usually is in terms of body armor (such as Sho in the Guyver) while female characters usually change clothes and makeup” (2001, 118). These shōjo transformations function as allegories for the physical changes that adolescents undergo during puberty. However, this figure of the Shōjo/Shōnen can be understood as regressive in its message, as feminist theorist Saito Minako states that such characters actually reinforce gender roles by teaching girls to focus on appearance and boys on strength (2014, 145). Often shōjo characters are highly sexualised for the appeal of male audiences, thus constructing a problematic idea of femininity that is constructed through the male-gaze.

Fig. 1 - Spirited Away’s Chihiro.

Fig. 1 - Spirited Away’s Chihiro.

Contrastingly, however, Miyazaki often inverts this trope, defying the conventions set by mainstream Japanese media in his depiction of the shōjo. Oftentimes, he focuses on the psychological (as well as physical) changes that occur in his female characters, who are frequently portrayed as independent and strong, undergoing journeys that enable them to mature and gain confidence. Such characters include Kiki (Kiki's Delivery Service, 1989), Sophie (Howl's Moving Castle, 2004) and Chihiro (Spirited Away, 2001). In Spirited Away, Chihiro is initially presented as spoiled, dissatisfied with the change of moving to a new home. After taking a wrong turn to their new house, Chihiro’s family stumble upon what seems to be an abandoned theme park. Chihiro's parents eat food prepared for spirits and are cursed into pigs, leaving Chihiro alone. As night falls, Chihiro begins to slowly disappear, turning her skin transparent (see Fig. 1). The image is symbolic of how Chihiro feels as though she has no control or power. Her physical transparency in the fantasy world connotes her lack of agency in her real world, as her resistance to change (moving away, her fear of the tunnel, etc.) bears no physical effect on her circumstances. This use of psychological realism emphasises Chihiro’s lack of autonomy in the physical world, and through her journey into the spirit realm she gains the ability to accept change and subsequently attain confidence and self-awareness. Having to navigate things on her own without her family as a support system, Chihiro learns to save herself through her gained independence. This change occurs through supporting those around her; she saves Haku through her childlike love for him, and No-Face by offering friendship. Chihiro does not ‘defeat’ No-Face with violence, but instead treats him with kindness and offers him friendship. We also see Chihiro crying after she sees her parents as pigs in the stables (Fig. 2). Miyazaki diverts from notions of strength and weakness by still portraying Chihiro as strong, while retaining some feminine traits (even posing these feminine traits as solutions to the problems). Miyazaki represents this heroism in harmony with Chihiro’s feminine characteristics, showcasing the strength in femininity. By the end of the film, Chihiro has gained enough self-confidence to save her parents and return to the real world; her internal transformation sustained by animation’s visually-transformative potential.

Fig. 2 - Chihiro cries after seeing her parents presented as pigs.

Fig. 2 - Chihiro cries after seeing her parents presented as pigs.

The complexity in Miyazaki’s female characters is equally achieved due to how he structures his narratives and blurs normative character tropes. The formulaic character archetypes of heroes, villains or damsels already hold gendered connotations. Softening these distinctions gives way for more nuanced and flexible modes of gender representation. A prime example of this is the characterisation of Lady Eboshi in Princess Mononoke. While she is viewed as a villain in most parts of the film, she is not always framed in this way. Instead, we are shown how her villainous actions of destroying the forest coexist with her heroic actions of helping those in her village. We see her capacity for rage and destruction as she shoots at forest Gods and completely exterminates the boar clan. At the same time, she is still presented as a good matriarchal figure. She willingly nurtures those with leprosy who were outcast from society, and takes in women from brothels. In turn, we see those in her village speak nothing but good things about her. It becomes clear that she deeply cares about those in her village. San or Princess Mononoke also subverts ideas of passive femininity. We are introduced to San in the scene where she tends to her injured wolf mother Moro. Without hesitation San sucks blood out of Moro's neck and spits it out. She turns to glare at the camera (at us) with blood covered all over her face (Fig. 3). In this introduction to her character, we understand that she is attentive and protective of her wolf family, while also being assertive and capable of violence.

Fig. 3 - The eponymous Princess Mononoke.

Fig. 3 - The eponymous Princess Mononoke.

In many of his films, Miyazaki presents a range of female characters leading diverse depictions of femininity. As Alice Vernon points out, “Not only do they disrupt the distinction between socially constructed gender roles, they also present a spectrum of heroic female behaviours. Both Eboshi and San are ambitious caregivers and warriors who nurse the injured, some human, some not” (2017, 116). The nuanced framing of these characters allows or reading these stereotypical traits in a positive light. For Chihiro, Lady Eboshi and San, their feminine attributes do not hinder their other abilities and it is not shown as a weakness to their character. We can begin to see similar ideas occur in relation to gender in recent films by the Disney Studios, but none to the degree that has been established by Miyazaki. Princesses such as Moana and Raya perhaps offer a fresh depiction of the Disney Princess model, but they are still held back by the Disney brand. Nonetheless, it’s exciting to see the changes and anticipate the improvements being made.

**Article published: July 16, 2021**

References

Banet-Weiser, Sarah, and Kate M. Miltner, 2016. “#MasculinitySoFragile: culture, structure, and networked misogyny.” Feminist Media Studies 16, no. 1: 171–174.

Batkin, Jane. 2017. Identity in Animation: A Journey Into Self, Difference, Culture and the Body. London and New York: Routledge.

Condry, Ian. 2015. “Feminism and Studio Ghibli,” MIT Gender and Japanese Popular Culture (Fall), available here.

Hugel, Melissa. 2013. “How Disney Princesses Went from Passive Damsels to Active Heroes.” Mic (November): available here.

Kite, Mary E. 2001. “Gender Stereotypes.” In Encyclopedia of Women and Gender: Volume 1, edited by Judith Worell, 561-570. San Francsco: Academic Press.

Napier, Susan J. 2001. Anime from Akira to Princess Mononoke: Experiencing Contemporary Japanese Animation. London: Palgrave Macmillan.

Saito, Kumiko. 2014. “"Shōjo", and Metamorphosis: Magical Girl Anime and the Challenges of Changing Gender Identities in Japanese Society,” The Journal of Asian Studies 73, no. 1 (February): 143-164.

Stover, Cassandra. 2013. “Damsels and Heroines: The Conundrum of the Post-Feminist Disney Princess.” LUX: A Journal of Transdisciplinary Writing and Research from Claremont Graduate University 2, no. 1, available here: https://scholarship.claremont.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1028&context=lux.

Vernon, Alice. 2016 “Beyond Girlhood in Ghibli: Mapping Heroine Development against the Adult Woman Anti-hero in Princess Mononoke.” In Princess Mononoke: Understanding Studio Ghibli’s Monster Princess, edited by Rayna Denison, 115-130. London: Bloomsbury.

Windsor, Elroi J. 2015. “Femininities.” In International Encyclopedia of the Social & Behavioral Sciences: Volume 2, edited by James D. Wright, 893–897, New York: Elsevier, available here.

Wing Sue, Derald. 2010. Microaggressions in Everyday Life: Race, Gender, and Sexual Orientation. New Jersey: John Wiley & Sons.

Biography

Sabrina Bessalem graduated from King’s College London where they gained a BA in Film Studies. They dedicated their dissertation to the topic of animation and found the subject incredibly enticing. Sabrina is currently a secondary school educator, looking to branch out into the film industry.