What makes the films of
Hayao Miyazaki feel magical? Like any great magic trick, the secret to Miyazaki's magic hides in plain sight. In the case of "Spirited Away," in a simple moment such as this. Or this. On the surface, moments like this where nothing happens might seem like filler, but the six-minute
sequence of "Spirited Away" in which nothing really happens might best exemplify the secret to why the world of Miyazaki feels so spectacularly magical. The scene in question occurs
44 minutes into the film, the morning after our heroine, Chihiro, takes a job at a magical
bathhouse for gods and spirits, which happens to be
owned by the same witch who turned Chihiro's parents into pigs. Here's how the scene starts. Haku: Meet me at the bridge. I'll take you to your parents. [Chihiro gasps] Narrator: Here's a question: What shot would you
guess comes after this? In most cases, it would look like this: cutting straight to the bridge where they had promised to meet. But instead, Miyazaki does this: painstakingly showing Chihiro's
journey from the bedroom all the way to the bridge, all locations that we've seen
her pass the other way around. This is why Miyazaki's
world feels so real. Because as magical as it is, there is a sense of space portrayed through time, distance, and scale. That's why a quick moment
that introduces a location like this is so simple, yet genius. Because despite being a location
we've never seen before, by the time Chihiro gets there, we know exactly where it is compared to the rest of the world. Going back to the story, this specific six-minute sequence is what's referred to as
a pinch in a screenplay - a moment that occurs approximately three-eighths of the way into a script that gives the audience
a moment to breathe and reminds them what's going on, like all the side
characters that will later play a vital role in the story and, most importantly, what's at stake. The short interaction between
Haku and Chihiro at the farm is full of these reminders
of what's at stake. Like the fate of Chihiro's parents. Chihiro: Mom! Dad! What's wrong with them? Haku: They don't remember being human. So look hard. It's up to you to remember which ones they are. Narrator: Or Chihiro's own identity. Chihiro: Chihiro. That's
my name, isn't it? Haku: That's how Yubaba controls you, by stealing your name. Narrator: These reminders
are Miyazaki's way of easily guiding the
audience through the journey, letting them know
exactly what has happened and also where it's heading. Which leads us to the moment that truly makes the scene magical. Miyazaki's films are famous
for their culinary scenes, showing characters either
cooking or eating in silence. It's never just a dining scene, but rather a moment when
characters bond with one another and also a moment that
Miyazaki refers to as "ma," meaning emptiness in Japanese. In one of his interviews, Miyazaki describes it as
the time between a clap, [claps] explaining: You can actually find
these instances of ma in all of Miyazaki's films. A moment when time just seems to stop. Nothing really happens, yet you feel yourself
absorbed by its world. Sometimes it's just watching someone eat a rice ball in tears. In a sense, this entire
six-minute sequence is a perfect example of Miyazaki's ma. Nothing really happens. It's just six minutes of
a world we'd already seen, reminding us of the story we already know, watching things that happen
that have no real consequences. Yet it's these moments that make the films of Miyazaki so magical. As exciting as its final reveal is, what makes a magic trick so special is the anticipation that precedes it.
