Excited by my discovery of Miyazaki, I put “Ponyo” in my
Netflix queue. I debated clicking the dreaded “Move to position #1” button, but
decided I didn’t want to leapfrog over “Magilla Gorilla: Complete Series: Disc
3” or “Spider-Man: Attack of the Lizard,” so I bided my time before exerting my
power on the queue. When the time was right, I made my move and “Ponyo” arrived
today.
As soon as I got home from work the boys and I hunkered down
in front of the television with dinner on our trays and began to watch the
movie. For the next 103 minutes my jaw was literally agape. You could have
thrown a ping pong ball in my mouth from a distance of 20 yards.
Whereas “Totoro” was equal parts strange and charming, “Ponyo”
was equal parts perplexing and sappy. While the basic plot of a girl goldfish (Ponyo)
who wants to become human was easy enough to follow, the subplot, in which
Ponyo’s father is some kind of evil Aquaman and/or medieval sorcerer who wants
to destroy all humans by turning the earth into one giant ocean and who may or
may not be getting help with his nefarious plans from his 150-foot aquatic
goddess wife, was so contrived and convoluted that I began to feel my neurons
ache as they attempted to make sense of what was happening on screen.
But maybe I’m just dense. For those of you who have seen
this movie, can you help me with the following questions (and if you haven’t
seen the movie, I wouldn’t really call these spoilers):
1- Why are Ponyo and her several thousand goldfish siblings
living in bubbles? (And are they supposed to be air bubbles or water bubbles?)
2- What exactly are the elixirs in Ponyo’s dad’s
extra-special-secret lair supposed to do?
3- Why was there only one human who was freaked out by the
fact that Sosuke’s goldfish had a human face and was wearing a red and white onesie?
I can go on all day with my questions about this movie, but
I’ll stop here and move on to a different sticking point—the dialogue. I’m not
sure if it was the delivery or the screenwriting, or a combination of the two,
but for large portions of the movie I felt like I was watching a junior high
school play. All the characters were so sickeningly sweet with each other
(except for the psychotic Aquaman wannabe and the cranky woman in the senior
center) that I wanted to pluck my own eyes out with the nearest spork.
This unique combination of an impenetrable plot and
painfully trite dialogue made for one of my more unusual movie-watching
experiences. And I should mention that the surreal visuals that made “Ponyo”
look like a Ralph Bakshi film on Quaaludes, only added to the strangeness of
the experience.
It is for all these reasons that as the credits rolled I
thought to myself, “Here’s something I’ll never see again.” So you can imagine
my dismay when, as soon as I turned it off, my six-year-old son said, “Let’s
watch that again!”
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