Monday, July 22, 2013

The Spirited Away Train


As an Asian-American child, I grew up on many elements of Asian culture as well. One of these was Japanese Anime, specifically, the many works of director Hiyao Miyazaki. I saw all of his movies as a kid, and they will always have a special place in my childhood. More importantly, the ideas and themes presented by his movies have had a profound influence on my perspective of life, even to this day. I do not go a day in my life without relating something I see back to those movies. There is one particular scene, however, that I will never forget as long as I live, and that is what people refer to as the Train Scene in the movie Spirited Away. This particular segment of the film has a very literal meaning in the story, but contains so much symbolism and allusions to existence and life itself. The combination of the motion picture and the music (by composer Joe Hisaishi) creates the most powerful scene of any film I have ever seen, despite the absence of prominent dialogue or written word.

In Spirited Away, just before the Train Scene, the main character Chihiro embarks on a personal journey to cure her friend, Haku, of his curse. She acquires train tickets to leave the spiritual bathhouse, at which she works, and meet an old woman named Zeniba. The bathhouse is surrounded by a vast, blue ocean, that stretches off into the horizon, and the train tracks lie underwater a few feet, but close enough to the surface to walk on. Chihiro's elder coworker, Lin, takes her to the train station by means of a small rowboat. They arrive at the station, which is simply a light stone platform nearby the underwater tracks, isolated in the calm ocean waters. As Chihiro and her mute spirit companions wait on the platform, a train is seen approaching the platform on the underwater tracks, treading through the water. They are greeted by a silent train attendant who collects their tickets, and the viewers never see his face. More importantly, though, when they board the train, there are silent figures seen everywhere in the various seats. These figures are completely featureless, colorless, and emotionless—they only sit in silence and wait. Chihiro and her companions take a seat amongst these unidentified spirits, completely unfazed by their odd characteristics. The train rides on into the endless waters, passing beautiful but lonely views of distant clouds, small islands with a houses on it, and other train platforms seemingly floating in the eternal abyss, with more anonymous figures on them. Finally, the train arrives at a forested area where Chihiro gets off with her followers; by this time it is night and they were the only ones left on the train.
 
 

Everything about this scene, every little detail, seemingly has a hidden or symbolic meaning. The anonymous figures, the color scheme changing from a light blue and white, to a red and purple, and finally to dark blue and black, and the lack of dialogue combined with the music all play a role in creating the spiritual and philosophical images I believe Hiyao Miyazaki intended to embed in the scene. And I think there are multiple ways to interpret these various aspects of the scene, but after years of contemplating its meaning, I have come up with a few ideas of my own.

The first detail that should be noticed is the vast ocean which surrounds the bathhouse, and the submerged train tracks that traverse its waters. It paints a beautiful picture, but nonetheless creates a deep feeling of loneliness and isolation. Thinking critically about the setting, one cannot help but ask questions such as “why is the bathhouse surrounded by an endless sea?” or “Why are the train tracks underwater? And why do they lead into the empty abyss?” I had always wondered this as a kid, but only now do I see their deeper meanings. The bathhouse represents one's current setting, which, if you really consider it, is all that matters in the grand scope of one's surroundings. All that makes any difference in one's life is where they are at the current time, and the places they know, while everything around it becomes irrelevant and might as well be an ocean. Following this theme, the train tracks are submerged because often the path in one's life is not clear, even though it is unavoidable. It stretched off into the featureless horizon, being the only thing seen to the passengers, because all that matters to us is our own paths in life. Moreover, that is all we ever see. There is so much going on around us, but no matter what, we are always riding on our own train, and everything else becomes meaningless to our existence. The train passes islands and towns floating in this “sea of life” but never does Chihiro depart the train. It is only our own destiny which we can ride to, though we often catch glimpses of alternate realities. These other stations which the train passes represent the choices we make in our own lives, or more significantly, the choices we pass up. In the end, we still follow the destined path laid out before us.
 
 

The anonymous characters that surround Chihiro on the train symbolize our daily encounters with the other people of the world. Their features and characteristics do not even matter, only the fact that they are there. They each follow their own paths, to their own destinations, but we do not even see them because they are not a true part of our reality. Only our loved ones, friends, and other acquaintances have qualities that we recognize and remember. Everyone else merely becomes a part of the scenery. This idea of isolation and anonymity is a very cold, dark view of life, and as a child we do not really see this woven into the context of the film. I remember when I saw Spirited Away for the first time when I was really little, not a part of the train scene bothered me. In a way, it was almost more appropriate to see the figures on the train as lifeless and unmemorable. Perhaps this is the way the world seems to us as children, but we don't really contemplate its meaning. Imagine yourself in a public place, flooded with crowds of people. In the midst of the crowds you see your parents, or maybe your best friend. Your recognition of their presence is unmistakable, but everyone else might as well be just background noise. The sad part is when you realize that all of them are people as well, and you are their background noise.

I cannot help but make another connection in this scene, and that is the gradual change of color. At first, the images are dominated by the light blue of the ocean against the light blue of the skies, and the contrasting white of the clouds. This, being the earliest part of the scene, represents the beginning, or one's childhood. The almost dreamlike perfection and lightness of the colors is how we view life as a child, never seeing the darkness. As the scene progresses, the hues become deeper and darker, which represents the transition into adulthood. Our surroundings become more real, and more harsh, but there is always beauty to reflect on, which is symbolized by the more opaque images in the water. Finally, the train leaves the vast ocean and enters a dark world decorated with trees. This, being the last stop, is the closing of one's life, foreshadowing the dark but unavoidable end that awaits us all.

What is it that director Hiyao Miyazaki intended for people to extract out of this scene? Combined with the music, the imagery used creates one of the most powerful moments in film, but it is hard to put into words exactly why. It provokes so much emotion, much of it discomforting, but it also displays so much truth. For me, what this scene means to teach us is that there is no point in desperately trying to understand our own fate. The train will guide us, and there is no promise of it being an easy journey, but we will experience colors of all kinds along the way. Not everything will just be background noise, as we are not alone on the train. Most importantly, we will eventually reach our destinations, and the ocean of uncertainty around us will become the trees that protect us, and those by our side.

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