Only Yesterday: An Ode to Childhood
“Perhaps my fifth grade self is trying to tell me a new way to fly.”
Only Yesterday is not most people’s introductory title to Studio Ghibli. That place belongs to Spirited Away (2002) or Howl’s Moving Castle (2004), both amazing fantasy stories with out-of-this-world imagination signature of the studio. Even in some complete tier-lists of Ghibli films, this slice-of-life film seems to be forgotten amidst more whimsical films. I am guilty of that too, only discovering Only Yesterday long after I started watching more of the studio. Ocean Waves (1993) was the first Ghibli’s slice-of-life that I watched and it didn’t leave me with much impression, so I wasn’t expecting anything from this one.
Needless to say, I ended up loving it.
The story follows a 27-year-old career woman Taeko Okajima (Miki Imai) in a vacation trip visiting her sister’s family in rural Yamagata to taste the country life during the annual safflower harvest. For some reason, memories of her childhood days — specifically when she was in fifth grade — are tagged along throughout the trip, blending back-and-forth seamlessly with her current experience of the vacation. As the trip goes through and more flashbacks occur, Taeko starts to wonder what those seemingly insignificant vignettes of memory might mean to her.
Being Human with Isao Takahata
For context, perhaps we should take a look on the man behind the masterpiece. Isao Takahata was the screenwriter and director of Only Yesterday, alongside of his other more known works such as Grave of the Fireflies (1988) and The Tale of Princess Kaguya (2013). His films are known for being more experimental with both art style and story genre. Just look at this two screenshots.
Yeah.
Not to mention the most beautiful animated film ever existed in my book —
It’s impossible to fully represent The Tale of Princess Kaguya with that one scene, but I think everyone can definitely feel the rough desperate emotion through the wildly painted brushstroke — it left me speechless.
These films are radically different, yet they have at least one thing in common which sets them apart.
They are raw portrayals of human emotion.
While most Ghibli films are also known for portraying realistic human emotions despite the animation medium, Takahata’s work are not afraid to explore the deepest trench of human emotion. Grave of the Fireflies doesn’t shy away from the harsh truth of war by highlighting heroism and hopefulness, it’s only a simple story of two siblings — who are just happened to be trapped in a horrifying situation. And while The Tale of Princess Kaguya is an adaptation of a folktale, it still manages to capture honest emotions, especially Kaguya’s powerlessness as she is also trapped in the expectation of herself.
Only Yesterday seems much lighter in terms of the tone and the theme presented, yet somehow I was able to feel more of those honest emotions. Probably because it is more relatable, a story about reminiscing a better time in our lives is definitely in line with what most of us feel during the seemingly endless pandemic. A great time to be in touch with ourselves a little bit more.
Flow of Memories
It is interesting to know that the Japanese title of Only Yesterday — おもひでぽろぽろ (Omoide Poro-Poro) roughly translates to “Memories, Flip-Flop”. I kind of wish they stick with it, even though I know that Only Yesterday probably fits better with the western audience. Because that’s essentially what the film is — Taeko’s flip-flopping between her memories and reality. It is not fantastical in any way, but there is a magical realism qualities when scenes of Taeko’s memory bleed to the current time. Sometimes a class friend from the fifth grade pops out of thin air or the camera just simply pans to one of the room of Taeko’s childhood home.
One of my favorite film is Perfect Blue (1997) by Satoshi Kon. While it’s completely different than this film — a great psychological thriller — the blurring between reality and memories or dreams by the flowing sequences portrays the main character’s inner turmoil really well. To sum up, I like trippy movies. Only Yesterday is not as trippy, but the seamless transitions between scenes really capture how a memory come and go in your head. An example is when the Taeko and her sister speak over the phone about her upcoming trip. Taeko’s sister blurts out “Maybe you’ll meet a handsome boy,” and it’s her sister’s younger version saying it for a split second before the conversation continues as normal.
The characteristics of a memory are further shown in the stylistic choice of the art, such as the hazy white vignette on the memory scenes’ background edges. As if the scene is trapped within that limited time and space, just like a real memory. Occasionally, there are exaggerated elements added in significant memories which represent how we tend to inflate memories as we recall them. My favorite is when fifth grade Taeko finally talks to her crush and she starts to fly and swim in the clouds with sparkling eyes — an accurate depiction of how I feel when I fall in love for the first time.
It’s just really weird to think that we are not really in control of our own memories. What part actually happened and what part is our own subconscious narrative in an effort to make it better? Why can we remember random things in random times yet can’t remember some others when we really want to? Memories are indeed confusing, yet Only Yesterday integrates it to the story really well.
The Child Within
It’s clear that it is Taeko herself who clings to her fifth grade self for a reason. It’s probably comparable to the ‘inner child’ concept popularized by psychiatrist Carl Jung, which is generally a childlike aspect within our unconscious mind, a subpersonality that can take over when we are faced with a challenge. Only Yesterday doesn’t show this theme very blatantly — Taeko’s childhood is not a traumatizing in any way — but it delivers it quite subtly.
“Even now, dividing fractions is difficult.”
There is a scene where Taeko tells Toshio — his brother-in-law’s cousin who she befriends over the vacation — that she thinks that people who could do math well in grade school is doing well in their adulthood, and she was bad at math. It seems that Taeko can’t help but associate her childhood struggles as a root for her struggle as an adult. Her memories show that her parents never really praised her for what she actually did good, such as when she wrote a good essay or acted great in a school drama. Yet, they always pressed Taeko for the things she failed at — mostly her bad grades.
Therefore, even as an adult, Taeko clearly struggles to do what she wants. The fear of displeasing others carries through, as in one scene adult Takeo states that she is just pretending to be a good girl. It just hits home to hard, even though in my case, I have been praised too much for being a ‘gifted child’ in my childhood days. I guess Taeko craves the validation that she was denied from in her childhood, while I have been trying to hard for the fear of not getting it.
Just give your child a healthy dose of praise, folks.
Moving Forward
“If today’s no good, you’ll have tomorrow.
If tomorrow’s no good, you’ll have the next day.”
Taeko’s final decision to follow her heart, cliché may it seems, is actually very well executed. The build ups are paid by the beautiful end scene, it’s just the kind that makes you lie down and think about your own life after a while.
I have been struggling with deciding how to devote my time— there is so much pressure on doing the expected thing in the right time and place. I feel like I had everything figured out — only to find out that I never will. Starting to write blogs now is not the most pragmatic thing to do, but I think it’s useless to deny what I know I always want to do. So just as Taeko leaps from the train, I start to write.
Welcome to my world.
