
2004 · Hayao Miyazaki
For when you want to be transported — a rainy-afternoon or cozy-evening film that works as pure comfort but leaves you with more to think about than comfort usually does.
Sophie, a shy young hatmaker, is cursed by a jealous witch and transformed into a ninety-year-old woman. Unable to explain her condition to anyone, she walks into the hills and talks her way into housekeeping for Howl — a vain, gorgeous young wizard whose ramshackle castle strides across the landscape on spindly bird legs — just as a senseless war is pulling him toward the front. Inside the castle: a fire demon with a contract, a boy apprentice, and a door that opens onto four different places.
Enchanting and gently strange — it has the cozy, lived-in warmth of a fairy tale but keeps drifting somewhere sadder and more mysterious, with war smoldering at the edges. It rewards giving yourself over to its dream logic rather than demanding every rule be explained.
This is Studio Ghibli at its most opulent: the castle is a wheezing assemblage of turrets, pistons, and fish-scale plating drawn so densely it seems to breathe, and Joe Hisaishi's waltzing 'Merry-Go-Round of Life' theme has become one of the most instantly recognizable pieces of film music. The subtlest trick is that Sophie's age is never fixed — her body drifts older and younger from scene to scene depending on how she feels, animation doing what live action can't.
Made as the Iraq invasion unfolded, it became the most openly pacifist statement of Miyazaki's late career, and its castle and theme music have entered the permanent iconography of animation.
Reception & legacy: how Howl's Moving Castle was received, argued over, and remembered →
A milliner cursed into old age by a jealous witch walks into the hills and into the service of a vain young wizard, whose ramshackle castle strides the landscape on spindly bird legs. Hayao Miyazaki bent Diana Wynne Jones's novel toward his own lifelong obsessions — flight, transformation, the moral catastrophe of war — reshaping it, as the Iraq invasion unfolded, into the most openly pacifist statement of his late period. It is Studio Ghibli at its most opulent: the castle a wheezing assemblage of turrets, pistons and fish-scale plating, drawn so densely it seems to breathe, while Joe Hisaishi's waltzing 'Merry-Go-Round of Life' theme has entered the small canon of instantly recognizable film music. The craft's finest trick, though, is quieter. Sophie's age is never fixed: her body drifts older or younger from scene to scene as her confidence falters and returns — a character arc conducted almost entirely through the act of drawing itself.
Lines of influence