Grave Of The Fireflies Roger Ebert · Free Access

Takahata does not animate his characters like the cutesy mascots we expect from the studio that gave us My Neighbor Totoro (released as a double feature with this film in Japan—imagine that emotional whiplash). He draws them with an aching realism. When Setsuko cries, her face crumples like wet paper. When Seita tries to be brave, his jaw is tight with the terror of a child who knows he is the only shield between his sister and the void.

Grave of the Fireflies is not anti-Japanese or anti-American. It is anti-war in the deepest sense: not as a political slogan, but as a visceral, tactile horror. It argues that war is not fought by soldiers. War is fought by children sucking on marbles. War is fought by mothers burning to death in their own homes. War is a firefly that flickers beautifully for a moment, then is crushed underfoot. grave of the fireflies roger ebert

I have seen this film three times. I will never watch it again. But I am grateful it exists. It is one of the greatest war films ever made—indeed, one of the greatest films, period. See it once. Bring no children. Bring no snacks. Bring only the knowledge that animation is not a genre, but an art form capable of expressing the deepest registers of human pain. Takahata does not animate his characters like the

It is there, in a cave by a placid lake, that the film performs its cruel magic. We watch the siblings play in the firefly light. We watch Setsuko build a tiny grave for the dead insects. “Why do fireflies have to die so soon?” she asks. Seita doesn’t answer. He is too busy watching his sister starve. When Seita tries to be brave, his jaw

BY ROGER EBERT / April 8, 1988

There are films that entertain you, films that challenge you, and then there is Grave of the Fireflies . This is not a film that you “like” or “enjoy.” It is a film that you survive . And having survived it, you are never quite the same.