Hayao Miyazaki’s The Boy and the Heron is an extraordinary achievement. The film is a masterclass in animation and ambition, and its painterly backdrops, mythic undertones, and emotional moments solidify it as a worthy entry in Studio Ghibli’s legendary catalog. The personal nature of the story, partially inspired by Miyazaki’s own childhood, gives it a powerful emotional core. From the very beginning, The Boy and the Heron makes clear that it's reaching for something grander and more metaphysical than most animated features ever attempt.

Yet despite its dazzling artistry and thematic depth, The Boy and the Heron struggles under the weight of its own ambition. At its core, the movie trades traditional storytelling for metaphor and symbolism. That, in itself, is not inherently a flaw as many great films take abstract routes. But in this case, the abstraction becomes so overpowering that it undermines the film’s coherence. The result is a deeply beautiful, personal, and ambitious movie that is often difficult to follow, and this lack of clarity keeps it from becoming the definitive Studio Ghibli masterpiece it clearly wants to be.

The Boy and the Heron was a Beautiful Dream, But a Confusing One

Where Did the Story Go? How Abstraction Undermines the Plot of The Boy and the Heron

The biggest barrier preventing The Boy and the Heron from reaching the heights of Spirited Away or Princess Mononoke is its fragmented narrative. While Miyazaki has always been a storyteller unafraid of ambiguity, this time, the lack of narrative scaffolding is more detrimental than illuminating. From the moment Mahito is drawn into the fantastical world, the story stops following a traditional arc and instead begins flowing like a dream that is fascinating, but hard to track. It becomes less about what happens and more about what it means, and for many viewers, that’s a tricky trade-off.

This is not to say the dream logic does not serve a purpose. The descent into symbolism reflects Mahito’s emotional disorientation as he processes the grief of losing his mother. The strange characters, surreal landscapes, and nonlinear progression all mirror a child's confused psychological state. But while that thematic decision is artistically interesting, it also makes the movie feel directionless. The balance between narrative clarity and emotional metaphor that made Spirited Away so accessible is simply missing here.

At times, the film veers so far into the abstract that viewers may feel untethered, struggling to parse out the logic of Mahito’s journey or the purpose of the events unfolding around him. This is not just a matter of complexity, it is a matter of cohesion. The story’s foundation weakens under the weight of its symbolism, and while that abstraction may mirror Mahito's internal chaos, it also makes the film less satisfying as a standalone narrative experience.

The Boy and the Heron is a Deeply Personal Grief Story That Demands Interpretation

Mahito’s Emotional Spiral, Told Through Surrealism

Even though the narrative lacks coherence, The Boy and the Heron remains emotionally resonant because of its portrayal of grief. Mahito is a boy out of step with the world and his anger, confusion, and alienation manifest in destructive ways early on, most memorably when he harms himself at school. His emotional turmoil is not subtle, and it’s this volatility that makes the surreal world he enters feel like a manifestation of his inner life. The descent into fantasy isn’t escapism; it’s an emotional crucible.

It is easy to interpret the film as Mahito’s grief journey transposed into myth. The bird-woman hybrids, the talking heron, and the multi-layered worlds represent different facets of loss and longing. The chaos of these realms reflects the chaos inside Mahito, a boy who has not been allowed to grieve naturally. The symbolism, then, is not arbitrary, it is consistent with his character arc. But the question remains of whether that makes the film more powerful, or does it make it more alienating for the average viewer.

The emotional weight of The Boy and the Heron is undeniable, but it is often buried beneath layers of allegory that demand decoding.

What is possibly most interesting is how the film refrains from explaining itself. There is no narrator to guide viewers and no character who exists purely to clarify what is going on. While this restraint shows respect for the audience’s intelligence, it also assumes a level of interpretive patience that not everyone brings to the theater. Viewers expecting even a loosely structured hero’s journey may come away frustrated, and that is a valid response. The emotional weight of The Boy and the Heron is undeniable, but it is often buried beneath layers of allegory that demand decoding.

Miyazaki’s Bold Gamble Does Not Pay Off for Everyone

What Happens When Story Takes a Backseat to Symbolism

At its heart, the debate over The Boy and the Heron comes down to artistic philosophy. Is it better for a film to convey emotional truth through abstract imagery, or should it also prioritize a coherent story to anchor the viewer’s experience? Miyazaki leans firmly toward the former with this film, prioritizing Mahito’s inner world over traditional plot logic. While this choice results in some of the film’s most transcendent moments, it also limits its broader impact.

The Boy and the Heron, by contrast, seems to abandon that thread entirely at times, asking audiences to intuit emotional significance without always offering a clear context.

This is a departure from Ghibli's best-known classics, which often managed to walk the line between emotion and structure. Spirited Away, for example, was rich in metaphor and visual creativity but always offered viewers a clear path to follow. Chihiro had a goal, relationships developed across a linear timeline, and even when things got strange, the story never lost its thread. The Boy and the Heron, by contrast, seems to abandon that thread entirely at times, asking audiences to intuit emotional significance without always offering a clear context.

Of course, this is also a matter of personal taste. For some viewers, the ambiguity and lack of narrative clarity will be exactly what makes The Boy and the Heron unforgettable. It refuses to explain itself, leaving room for multiple interpretations, which some will find refreshing. But others, especially those accustomed to Ghibli’s usual storytelling approach, may walk away feeling distanced from the experience. It is a bold gamble that will resonate deeply with some and leave others in the dark.

The Boy and the Heron is a Stunning Work of Art That Falls Just Short of Greatness

The Boy and the Heron is Too Complex to Be Ghibli’s Best, But Still Worth the Journey

There is no question that The Boy and the Heron is a beautiful, moving, and deeply personal film. Hayao Miyazaki has once again demonstrated that animation can be high art, pushing the medium into the realm of philosophy, psychology, and dream. The movie is filled with unforgettable visuals and moments of profound emotional insight. It is the kind of film that lingers in viewers mind long after the credits roll, asking questions, posing riddles, and offering no easy answers.

But for all its artistic ambition, the film falters because of its fragmented narrative. The heavy reliance on symbolism and dream logic creates a barrier for many viewers, making the story harder to connect with in the moment. Its emotional truths are buried beneath opaque layers of metaphor that make it more difficult to access than it needs to be. As a result, it falls just short of achieving the perfect balance that made Ghibli’s past films not just visually and emotionally rich, but narratively satisfying as well.

Ultimately, The Boy and the Heron is a breathtaking meditation on grief, legacy, and the process of growing up. But the lack of a clear throughline in its story keeps it from becoming Studio Ghibli’s greatest film. It is still a work of genius in many respects, but one that demands a bit too much from its audience to fully earn the title of masterpiece.