Ponyo

Anime were my religion for years. Sailor Moon, Dragon Ball, Neon Genesis Evangelion—didn’t matter how bad the dubbing was or how inconsistent the animation looked. Big eyes, transformation sequences, talking plushies. That’s basically where my whole thing with Japan started, before I even understood why.

Miyazaki films hit different though. There’s something about them that feels right—no struggle, no effort to convince you. I sat through Princess Mononoke in Koblenz and it stuck to me. Becca and I had this whole empty cinema for Howl’s Moving Castle. Those Spirited Away songs still surface when I’m walking, like they’re permanent now.

The new one is Ponyo, their version of The Little Mermaid—a mermaid escapes home, washes up on a beach, gets found by a five-year-old. Even just knowing that, you feel it. That thing Ghibli does where strangeness stops being strange. I don’t know if this one hits the way the others do, but you keep betting on them anyway.