The Big Whatsit

A Pig’s got to Fly

At Christmas, I was lucky enough to receive several Studio Ghibli DVDs from mine ever-perceptive wife. These were added to the volumes I already own, a collection that is shy a few volumes, but is beginning to build up nicely. Some of these movies I’ve seen before - the obvious ones, really. The others are first time viewings. Each week, I aim to take a peek at one film (in completely random order) and report on my findings here. This time, it’s the turn of Hayao Miyazaki’s 1992 potboiler, Kurenai no buta, or as we know it, Porco Rosso.

You can tell you’re in Miyazaki territory - as opposed to one of his ‘acolytes’ - via a number of neat little animation touches, ‘pushing the envelope’ (I hate that cliche) moments that other directors just don’t seem to get. It’s in the sudden depth and texture of a Mediterranean shot, or the way a plane’s tailfin riddled with bullet holes disintegrates, bits of wood and frame flying off into the sky. Even fifteen years ago, he could produce an effect we rarely got to see in Disney movies of the era. It’s worth noting that around the same time as this was released, we were being made to worship at the altar of Beauty and the Beast, a clear sign that the late Walt’s animation department was firing on all cylinders once more. That’s as may be, but for all the jaw-dropping technique that went into producing the layered ballroom scene, Disney were in reality experimenting to ever more competent degrees with computer animation, whilst the likes of Porco is hand drawn. Check both movies out now, and I would imagine it’s Miyazaki’s effort that comes out on top.

Then again, that may be because it’s adult-themed, nor does it contain a raft of bloody, bloody, bloody songs because it’s presumed audiences want nothing more than a good, old-fashioned singalong to plug the gaps between a wafer-thin plot. Another Miyazaki giveaway is the quirky plot, the setting that few other movie makers would care to bother with. We’re in Italy between the wars. The Fascists are in power, but that doesn’t stop the skies from being at the mercy of pirate pilots. Only one man can foil them, and he isn’t a man at all. Marco ‘Porco’ Rosso is a top pilot, a World War One flying ace, and at some point wound up with the features of a pig. He’s still good at what he does. Even his appearance at a pirate raid can turn proceedings into a panicked rout, so fearsome is his reputation. But he isn’t happy. The authorities are after him, wanting ultimately to recruit him back into the state air force - it’s made pretty explicit that in Mussolini’s Italy, you didn’t say no. There’s a complex relationship going on with the aristocratic Gina that looks in no danger of being resolved. The pirates, led by Manma Aiutto, are getting sick of being shot down and generally made fools of, and look for payback. Donald Curtis is an opportunistic American pilot, modelling himself on Errol Flynn, who feels he can gain fame and fortune by claiming the plane, if not the life, of Porco. And finally, he’s a pig! Though he’s come to terms with his existence, and happily mingles in public places, there’s no doubt that being a man-pig hybrid wears heavily on his soul.

By the time we join the action, it’s clear our hero cuts a weary, cynical figure. He doesnt shoot down pirates out of any sense of moral duty. It’s his job, a bounty hunter’s lot, and Porco is bad-tempered and irascible about his porcine prospects. He’s a more complicated character than you’d expect, and the entanglements keep on coming when he needs to take a trip to Milan. Curtis has shot him down after his plane suffered an engine failure, and Porco risks his snout in visiting Grandpa Piccolo’s workshop, the only one who can get him back in the sky in the style to which he has become accustomed. Whilst there, he meets teenage engineer Fio, a gifted plane designer, who persuades him to let her get the job done. She does, and after a frantic chase out of the city with the authorities closing in, Porco jets off, Fio in the gunseat, to take on the pirates, Curtis, Gina, and whatever else fate throws in his direction.

On one level, Porco Rosso is a straightforward action adventure, and as such it works. There are daring aerial dogfights, car chases, fisticuffs, and its 94 minutes fly by. But there’s an awful lot more to it than that. It’s hinted at, yet never explained with Disney directness, why Marco has become Porco. He’s very obviously disgusted with humanity, and himself to a degree - a pre-transformation photo of him has been mutilated, we learn by none other than Porco himself. The one ’spiritual’ scene in the movie, where he witnesses what happens to WWI pilots who have died in the skies, offers more clues, yet no answers, and we’re left with another visually ravishing but elusive moment to consider. Even at the end, there are no easy conclusions. What happens to Porco and his mates is left dangling, despite Fio’s narrative epilogue. Does he find redemption, love, etc? Who really knows? It’s a daring finish, the unwillingness to wrap things up neatly that you just wouldn’t get from a Disney animation, or indeed most western films, where a proper climax is considered mandatory.

Though the idea of a central character being transformed into something/someone else is nothing new in Miyazaki’s world, there’s a lot about Porco Rosso that veers away from the usual fare. Magic is notable by its absence. Apart from the idea behind Marco Rosso’s change, which is obviously allegorical, spirits, wizards and witches never appear, the narrative running along altogether earthier lines. Unlike Kiki’s Delivery Service, My Neighbour Totoro and Spirited Away, this isn’t really a movie for or about kids. Adult themes are covered, and Porco lives very much in a grown up world. The complexities of his character, the fact he’s a grouch yet charms the ladies into submission, is something children might not understand, yet is all too familiar to adults. This isn’t to say younger viewers won’t enjoy it. There’s plenty for everyone - dazzling visuals (which aren’t diminished by age and advancing techniques), a rollicking storyline, and credible characters.

Normally, any Ghibli movie - or at least, those I’ve seen so far - would never score below 7/10, so I’m having to be tough on myself when rating them against each other. All the same, Porco Rosso gets a solid 8/10. I was entertained, moved and left wanting more, which is about as high a recommendation as I can make.