Grave of the Fireflies

Grave of the Fireflies

Drawing upon a semi-autobiographical novel of the same name, Isao Takahata’s animated masterwork Grave of the Fireflies tells the story of two orphans caught in the middle of the firebombing that decimated the cities of Japan in the final months of World War Two.

Seita is in many ways an ideal big brother, adoring and protecting his younger sister Setsuko, but his best intentions are progressively overwhelmed by a cascade of horrible circumstances. After their mother dies in an air raid (their naval officer father is at sea and incommunicado), they are placed at the mercy of a bitter, resentful aunt, such that Seita imprudently decides that he and Setsuko would be better off trying to live on their own.

We as viewers know from the outset that Seita and Setsuko did not survive the war, as Grave of the Fireflies opens with the reuniting of the siblings’ deceased spirits. By thus choosing to eliminate a large measure of suspense, Takahata instead allows us to marvel at the multitude of details furnished to our senses: the scream of falling bombs, the jingle of prized confections in a candy tin, the jumble of corpses beside an open mass grave, the glow of captured fireflies reflected on Setsuko’s joyous face.

Repeatedly shown as small figures against a background of decimated buildings or nature’s vastness, Seita and Setsuko like the insects of the title are tiny, ephemeral, fragile, and lovely.

Remarkably, Grave of the Fireflies was first released in Japanese cinemas as half of a double feature with Hayao Miyazaki’s serene My Neighbor Totoro. On second glance, however, such a pairing makes sense, as both films contain the child’s eye view and watercolor-like imagery that one has come to expect from these two leading lights of Studio Ghibli.

In addition, each work urges a type of remembrance: in the case of Totoro by conjuring the gentle spirituality of a nature-centered bygone era, and with Fireflies an honoring of innocents lost. As shown in the final scene, Seita and Setsuko’s spirits still reside in the city, even if the rubble has long since been replaced by steel and glass.

—Andrew Spitznas, chief writer/editor of Secular Cinephile

  1. Directed by: Isao Takahata
  2. Produced by: Toru Hara
  3. Written by: Akiyuki Nosaka Isao Takahata
  4. Music by: Toru Hara
  5. Cinematography by: Nobuo Koyama
  6. Editing by: Takeshi Seyama
  7. Release Date: 1988
  8. Running Time: 89
  9. Language: Japanese

Arts & Faith Lists:

2011 Top 100 — #28

2020 Top 100 — #62

Similar Posts

  • The Grand Illusion

    As we discuss what makes a film spiritually significant, the concepts of truth and beauty are often at the center of our conversations. Jean Renoir’s Grand Illusion is not just a film that presents truth and beauty; it is about truth and beauty. The film appears to argue that truth is absolute but so complex that it…

  • The Burmese Harp

    Kon Ichikawa’s deeply humane, spiritually resonant masterpiece is routinely but reductionistically described as “pacifist” or “anti-war.” War, though, is the occasion for the central theme, not the theme itself, which is nothing less than the intractable mystery of suffering and evil, affirmation of spiritual values, and the challenge to live humanely in evil circumstances. Adapted…

  • Close-Up

    In Close-Up, Abbas Kiarostami retells the true story of the trial of Hossein Sabzian who fraudulently convinced a family that he was the famous film director, Mohsen Makhmalbaf. The entire incident comes about in a seemingly innocent way; however, the moral struggle surrounding the deception involves a complex wrestling with themes of identity, belonging, forgiveness and repentance.  Sabzian is arrested, imprisoned,…

  • Stop Making Sense

    Jonathan Demme’s 1984 concert film, Stop Making Sense, begins simple enough. Talking Heads front man David Byrne walks onto a bare stage and places a boombox on the ground. “Hi, I got a tape I wanna play you,” he quips. Byrne turns on the stereo and the musician’s acoustic guitar soon melds to a tight backing…

  • Day of Wrath

    There are few films that fill us with such righteous indignation as Day of Wrath. Featuring empathetic characters caught in a callous system, the film can easily evoke our anger. Religious intolerance and dehumanizing persecution are nothing new, of course, but Day of Wrath reminds us that it has a long history. At the same time, the film…