Boy and the Heron, The: Steelbook (4K UHD Review)
- Review Date: May 30, 2025
- Format: 4K Ultra HD
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Director
Hayao MiyazakiRelease Date(s)
2023 (July 9, 2025)Studio(s)
Studio Ghibli/Toho (GKIDS/Shout! Studios)- Film/Program Grade: B+
- Video Grade: A-
- Audio Grade: A-
- Extras Grade: B-
Review
The Boy and the Heron (aka Kimitachi wa dô ikiru ka) is the latest stop on legendary animator Hayao Miyazaki’s farewell tour, a melancholic journey that’s been going on for more than a quarter century now. He first announced his retirement back in 1997 after the release of Princess Mononoke, and then again in 2001 after Spirited Away, and one more time in 2013 after The Wind Rises. Yet all true artists have to follow their respective muses regardless of the circumstances, and every time that Miyazaki thinks that he has delivered his final word on the subjects that interest him, he always finds out that he’s still got more to say. Yet there really is a sense of finality to The Boy and the Heron, which builds on the themes that he’s explored throughout his entire career, but manages to dig just a little deeper into them.
The fact that it took seven years for Miyazaki to bring this particular vision to life seems to be a sign that he was well aware of the fact that this really might be his final chance to express his deepest feelings onscreen. While he’s explored a variety of different stories and settings including the relatively adult worlds of The Castle of Cagliostro and Porco Rosso, he’s always been fascinated by childhood and the challenges in coming of age. As he’s continued to get older and more aware of his own approaching mortality, he’s become increasingly focused on his own childhood memories. While he’s incorporated autobiographical elements into many of his films, The Boy and the Heron may be his most autobiographical effort to date (or ever, if he really holds true to his retirement plans this time). Yet it’s still very much a work of the imagination, with reality and fantasy performing Miyazaki’s usual sinuous dance.
The story of The Boy and the Heron centers Mahito Maki (Soma Santoki), a young boy living in war-torn Tokyo, and a clear stand-in for Miyazaki himself. His father Shoichi (Takuya Kimura) owns a munitions factory that has become a target for Allied bombing raids. After Mahito’s hospital-ridden mother is burned alive during the firebombing of Tokyo, Shoichi ends up remarrying her sister Natusko (Yoshino Kimura) and relocating the family to a rural estate, where they’re surrounded by a group of fawning elderly servants led by Kiriko (Ko Shibasaki). Mahito struggles to accept his new circumstances, especially his new stepmother, but when she disappears into a sealed tower that was built decades ago by her architect granduncle (Shōhei Hino), he decides to go after her—dragging Kiriko reluctantly behind him.
Yet his motives for doing so are unclear, since he’s really following a strangely anthropomorphic gray heron (Masaki Suda) who claims that his mother is still alive and can be found within the tower. So, Mahito enters this forbidden realm, and ends up descending into a mysterious underworld where the dead meet the living and new souls wait to be born. In his quest to rescue his stepmother and relocate his birth mother, he encounters a younger version of Kiriko, the Lady Himi (Aimyon), and the malevolent Parakeet King (Jun Kunimura). Ultimately, he meets the real Architect of this strange new world, and finds himself forced to make a choice that will decide everyone’s fate.
As that description should make clear, The Boy and the Heron is effectively Miyazaki’s version of Orpheus, but with a twist. Mahito does indeed descend into the underworld in the hopes of rescuing a loved one, but there’s no love in his heart for his stepmother Natsuko. His nominal quest to find her is a perfunctory one done out of a sense of duty to his father. The reality is that he still hasn’t processed the death of his real mother, and his unwillingness to accept that fact has led him on a vain journey to bring her back as well. His trip through the Looking Glass finally makes him reflect on what he’s let himself become: a selfish, resentful little brat. His quest can only succeed once he finally puts away childish things and learns to accept his new stepmother—which means letting go of his real mother once and for all.
The Japanese title of The Boy and the Heron is Kimitachi wa dô ikiru ka, which loosely translates as “how do you live?”, although that English phrase really doesn’t convey the nuances of the original. The “you” is plural, and there’s an active component to it as well, so it’s more akin to something like “how do we choose to live?” Miyazaki borrowed the title from Yoshino Genzaburō ‘s otherwise unrelated 1937 children’s novel, which Mahito is seen reading a key moment during The Boy and the Heron. The stories may be different, but clearly that question was one that drove Miyazaki when he conceived of the story for his film. Yet that process was purely instinctual, not intellectual, and as a result, The Boy and the Heron is a tantalizingly ambiguous text that is open to multiple interpretations—especially once Miyazaki’s youthful doppelgänger Mahito meets up with his elderly doppelgänger in the form of the Architect. Is that Miyazaki’s acknowledgment that it’s finally time to pass the torch to the younger generation? If so, Mahito’s rejection of his Granduncle’s offer may be Miyazaki’s sly acknowledgment that he’s still not ready to let go of his own muse after all. Time will tell.
The Boy and the Heron was animated digitally using a combination of hand-drawn 2D elements with some 3D backgrounds (although the majority of the backgrounds are 2D as well), with everything done under the supervision of cinematographer and head of digital imaging Atsushi Okui. It was completed as a 2K Digital Intermediate, framed at 1.85:1 for its theatrical release. This version has been upscaled to 4K and graded for High Dynamic Range in both Dolby Vision and HDR10. While there’s not necessarily 4K worth of fine detail, the intricate linework is crisp and refined in the format, with no visible aliasing or other upscaling artifacts. The HDR grade offers slightly more saturated colors and deeper contrast, both of which help to provide more depth to the image. Flames, which are a recurring motif throughout the entire film, are particularly vivid. While it’s not a huge upgrade over 1080p, it is an incremental one, and Miyazaki/Ghibli fans won’t be disappointed.
Primary audio is offered in Japanese and English Dolby Atmos, with English subtitles for the former and English SDH “dubtitles” for the latter. (It’s your choice, but as usual I’m only recommending the original Japanese-language version.) It’s a generally understated but still fully immersive mix, with subtle environmental sounds surrounding the viewer during quieter scenes and plenty of directional activity during the louder ones—for example, when the door slams shut to the underworld, there’s a decisive bass rumble when it closes, followed by debris falling from the ceiling speakers. The fiery first appearance of Lady Himi also delivers some sonic fireworks (literally). Still, the primary focus of the mix is naturally composer Joe Hisashi’s gorgeous score, which provides aural textures of its own that go beyond mere musical accompaniment. His piano themes in particular provide a gentle anchor for the entire film no matter how fantastical that the story may seem.
Additional audio options include English Descriptive Audio and Spanish 5.1 Dolby Digital, plus Spanish and French subtitles for the Japanese-language version.
The Shout! Studios/GKIDS 4K Ultra HD Steelbook release of The Boy and the Heron includes a Blu-ray with a 1080p copy of the film. It also includes a mini foldout poster and a 12-page booklet featuring Miyazaki’s 2016 story proposal for the film (where he openly admits that “there’s nothing more pathetic than telling the world you’ll retire because of your age, then making yet another comeback”). There’s also a standard UHD edition available, which contains the same content, but in traditional blue Amaray packaging with a slipcover. There are no extras on the UHD, but the following extras are on the UHD only:
- Feature-Length Storyboards (123:53)
- Interview with Joe Hisashi (10:21)
- Interview with Toshio Suzuki (4:42)
- Interview with Takeshi Honda (19:40)
- Drawing with Takeshi Honda (27:16)
- Spinning Globe Music Video (5:13)
- Teasers & Trailers (8:37, 9 in all)
The Feature-Length Storyboards feature the original hand-drawn storyboards for The Boy and the Heron cut together to match the running time and flow of the final film. They’re accompanied by of the same audio and subtitle options as the main feature (although they’re all 5.1 Dolby Digital in this iteration). Note that it defaults to English with no subtitles and there’s no menu option, so you’ll have to use your remote to switch between them.
There are also three different interviews with key crew members. Joe Hisashi reflects on his long association with Miyazaki and his approach to composing—he says that he never knows where to begin and always starts from zero every time. Producer Toshio Suzuki explains how the persistent reappearance of a real heron inspired Miyazaki, which was just the beginning of the autobiographical elements that the director included in the film. (He says that the heron in the film was clearly modeled after him and his own verbal interactions with Miyazaki.) Supervising animator Takeshi Honda explores his own work with Miyazaki starting with a few scenes on Ponyo before graduating to his current role with The Boy and the Heron. While there were many challenges on this project, he admits that the flocks of birds stopped him in his tracks for a while, much to Miyazaki’s irritation.
Finally, in addition to a collection of Trailers and a music video for the closing credits song Spinning Globe (aka Chikyûgi), Honda makes another appearance in Drawing with Takeshi Honda, where he sits down before the fire to draw some of the characters from The Boy and the Heron, surrounded by keepsakes from the film.
So: is The Boy and the Heron really Hayao Miyazaki’s final film? In one sense, it doesn’t really matter. He’s certainly earned his retirement by this point, so if he decides to stick to his guns this time, The Boy and the Heron is a worthy capper to his career. Of course, we’ve all been saying the exact same thing ever since he first announced his retirement in 1997. Princess Mononoke would have been a worthy capper. Spirited Away would have been a worthy capper. The Wind Rises would have been a worthy capper. Lather, rinse, repeat. None of them ended up being the final jewel in Miyazaki’s crown. And, needless to say, The Boy and the Heron also may end up moving farther back down the line. That’s because all artists must follow their muses, wherever it may lead them.
-Stephen Bjork
(You can follow Stephen on social media at these links: Twitter, Facebook, BlueSky, and Letterboxd).