There are a small handful of filmmaker's whose work I find consistently engaging to the point that I am temporarily transported to another plane, be it intellectual, spiritual, magical, etc. and fewer still animated films I consider great enough to be put in that same class as those films.  For me, Spirited Away is the ultimate animated film, perhaps not for embodying all of the possibilities of the form, but through its ability to transport me to a new world of unexpected surprises and deep emotional connections no matter how many times I see it.  Miyazaki is one of those filmmakers whose mediocre works still bring me much pleasure and whose greatest works cause me to mourn the diminishing frequency of hand-drawn animation.  Of course Spirited Away itself marks Miyazaki's embracing of computer animation, but its seamless integration into his typically beautiful, meticulously crafted world accents its beauty without eclipsing it.

The set-up of a lonely girl finding her place in a strange environment may sound familiar for anyone who's seen a Miyazaki film, but the environment is rendered with such richness and complexity that Chihiro's journey takes the form of metaphysical transformation rather than simply a coming of age.  The bathhouse itself functions as a microcosm for the adult world; a well-oiled, interconnecting machine that threatens to consume the individual unless they find their own unique, yet useful position amongst it.  And here lies the challenge for Chihiro, who, only recently left everything familiar to her behind, must find her place in an unfamiliar world and constantly readjust to her increasingly bizarre circumstances.  Her struggle to maintain her individuality while adjusting to the newfound responsibilities that come with being a productive adult is reflected in every aspect of the film.  For Miyazaki, the nearly overwhelming amount of strange, sometimes inexplicable, creatures and beings is not merely a show of visual splendor, but an attempt to throw the viewer in the deep end with Chihiro and force us to reset our own bearings from one scene to the next.  This sense of newness and discovery makes Spirited Away a thrilling experience, but Miyazaki’s ability to balance the adventure with the tender melancholy of the passing of childhood makes it a film of immense emotional power as well.  The train ride near the end is a testament to his ability to blend the fantastical and the emotional, to step outside of the plot and embody the entirety of its themes and emotions not in words or actions, but movement and silence.  After a film packed to the brim with gorgeous imagery, this comtemplative sequence gives us space to take in the magnitude of everything that came before it.  It's haunting, bittersweet and encapsulates everything I love about Miyazaki.