Over the whole film hangs the shadow of the illness of the mother, who is hospitalized (her daughters don’t exactly know why). Though the world of My Neighbor Totoro is ultimately benign, it is not Pollyanna, not without anxieties or crises, or focused only on the bright side. It is simply that for the most part rules are neither here nor there. It is not that the rules are harder to understand, like in Wonderland or Chihiro’s spirit world. The film keeps at least one foot in this world, but finds that world infused with mysterious magic and breathtaking benevolence. My Neighbor Totoro, despite a brief rabbit-hole tumble into the dreamy stillness of the Totoro realm, doesn’t leave the ordinary world behind and take Mei and Satsuki somewhere else entirely. In that very different but equally masterful film, poor Chihiro turned the wrong corner and crossed over into a world of shifting, often ominous realities, seemingly operating according to unknown and incomprehensible rules. One might say there is there is something dreamlike about the adventures (if such nearly plotless proceedings can be described as “adventures”) of young Satsuki and her kid sister Mei, who arrive with their father in a new house somewhere in the rural Japanese countryside, a stunningly idyllic landscape of rice paddies, tree-shaded footpaths, and pristine forests.īut it’s not dreamlike in the manner of Miyazaki’s much later film Spirited Away, a few overlapping elements (like the fuzzy soot sprites) notwithstanding.