Let’s talk about Hayao Miyazaki. The man isn’t just an animator; he’s a fucking wizard of storytelling. His movies aren’t just visually stunning—they’re packed with wisdom about how we live, how we treat each other, and how we interact with the planet. Whether it’s the way Princess Mononoke tackles environmental destruction, or how Spirited Away exposes greed and capitalism, Miyazaki doesn’t just make movies. He serves up moral lessons wrapped in jaw-dropping visuals and lovable (or terrifying) characters.

So let’s dive into the political and humanist sh*t this cinematic genius can teach us, one flying cat bus at a time.

Miyazaki doesn’t just love nature—he practically worships it. In almost every one of his films, nature isn’t just a backdrop; it’s a living, breathing force that often doesn’t play nice with humanity. And why the hell should it? Humans, in Miyazaki’s eyes, are usually the ones fucking everything up.

Let’s start with Princess Mononoke, Miyazaki’s environmental manifesto. The film is a goddamn masterpiece of nuance. Lady Eboshi, the industrialist villain, isn’t a one-dimensional bad guy. She’s trying to build a better life for her people, including lepers and women cast out of society. But her ambition comes at the cost of destroying the forest and pissing off the goddamn boar spirits. The lesson? Industrial progress and nature are always at odds, and unless we figure out how to balance the two, we’re all screwed.

This movie screams at us to stop treating the environment like our personal fking landfill. If the Forest Spirit can’t survive our bullst, what makes us think we can?

If there’s one thing Miyazaki fking hates, it’s war. He grew up in post-World War II Japan, so it’s no surprise that anti-war themes pop up in damn near every one of his films. But what sets him apart is how he portrays war: not as a battle between good and evil, but as a complex, messy clusterfk where everyone loses.

In Howl’s Moving Castle, the war raging in the background is vague as hell, and that’s the point. Miyazaki doesn’t care who’s fighting who—he cares about how war destroys lives, cities, and dreams. Howl himself refuses to pick a side, seeing the whole thing as pointless carnage. Even Sophie, the protagonist, doesn’t get swept up in patriotic bullshit. The war is just a backdrop for the real story: humanity struggling to survive amid chaos.

Miyazaki teaches us that war isn’t heroic or romantic; it’s fking tragic. If world leaders spent less time waving their dks around and more time watching Studio Ghibli films, maybe we wouldn’t be stuck in endless cycles of conflict.

Miyazaki doesn’t exactly come out and scream, “Fuck capitalism!” but his films are a giant middle finger to greed and exploitation. He’s not subtle about it, either—his stories are full of greedy characters and systems that wreck everything they touch.

In Spirited Away, the bathhouse is a metaphor for a capitalist society that commodifies everything, even fucking souls. Chihiro’s parents gorge themselves on food they can’t pay for, turning into literal pigs (subtle, huh?). Meanwhile, the bathhouse’s boss, Yubaba, represents the heartless corporate overlord: a money-grubbing tyrant who works her employees to the bone.

Miyazaki shows us that capitalism, unchecked, turns people into pigs—both literally and metaphorically. If we let greed run the world, we lose sight of what really matters: kindness, compassion, and community.

Miyazaki doesn’t hate humanity. In fact, he’s pretty fucking hopeful about us. His movies often feature characters who, despite their flaws, are capable of growth, empathy, and redemption.

Nausicaä, the titular badass princess, is a beacon of hope in a post-apocalyptic world. She’s not just fighting to survive; she’s trying to bridge the gap between humanity and nature. Even the antagonists, like Princess Kushana, aren’t pure evil—they’re just products of a world gone to sh*t. Nausicaä’s ability to see the good in people, even when they’re being assholes, is the heart of the story.

Miyazaki reminds us that while humanity can be a destructive force, we’re also capable of incredible good. The key is empathy—something our leaders and institutions could use a hell of a lot more of.

Miyazaki’s films are full of kids who are braver, smarter, and more capable than the adults around them. Whether it’s Chihiro navigating the spirit world or Kiki starting her own business as a witch, Miyazaki has a knack for showing that kids can handle a hell of a lot more than we think.

In My Neighbor Totoro, Satsuki and Mei deal with their mother’s illness while discovering the magical creatures living in the forest. It’s a quiet, beautiful story about resilience, imagination, and the ways kids process grief. While the adults are busy worrying about practicalities, the kids find joy and wonder in the world around them.

Maybe it’s time we stopped treating kids like fragile little idiots and started listening to them. They see the world with a clarity and curiosity that adults have long since lost.

Miyazaki doesn’t fk around when it comes to female characters. His movies are full of women who are strong, flawed, and complex as hell. They don’t fit into neat boxes of “hero” or “villain,” and that’s what makes them so fking great.

Kiki is just a teenage witch trying to figure out her place in the world. She’s not saving kingdoms or fighting monsters—she’s dealing with burnout and self-doubt. It’s a coming-of-age story that hits home for anyone who’s ever felt lost or unsure of themselves.

Women don’t need to be perfect to be heroes. They can be messy, vulnerable, and unsure of themselves—and still kick ass.

One of Miyazaki’s trademarks is his attention to detail. Every frame of his movies feels alive, whether it’s the bustling streets of a city or the serene beauty of a forest. His films make you stop and appreciate the world around you—and make you realize how much we take it for granted.

Sure, Ponyo is a whimsical story about a fish-girl, but it’s also a love letter to the ocean. The underwater scenes are so breathtaking, you can almost smell the saltwater. But lurking beneath the beauty is a warning: pollution and human carelessness are threatening these natural wonders.

Miyazaki’s films remind us to slow the fuck down and appreciate the world around us. If we don’t, we’ll lose it.

Hayao Miyazaki isn’t just an animator—he’s a philosopher, a humanist, and a badass storyteller who isn’t afraid to call us out on our sh*t. His films are more than just entertainment; they’re a mirror that reflects the best and worst of humanity.

From environmentalism to anti-war messages to feminist heroes, Miyazaki’s work is packed with lessons we desperately need right now. So the next time you watch one of his movies, don’t just sit there gawking at the gorgeous animation. Pay attention to the message—and then go out and do something about it.

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