It’s that time of year again; autumn is on its way, there’s frost in the mornings but summer can still be felt at noon, and it’s practically sweater weather in the evenings…and I am feeling just a little bit burnt out. Which is terrible timing; as everyone goes back to school and library programming ramps up, I need to be energized! I need to be on top of so many things!
But there’s no fighting reality, so when I feel burnt out, I do what I always do: I hole up with my comfort films, which never fail to soothe and rejuvenate me after a long few days.
And something that I’ve noticed is that a lot of my favourite films are trilogies (or should have been trilogies, and I dismiss any sequels past the third with extreme prejudice).
If you know me well there are probably a few facts that come to mind. One: I love a good cat nap. Two: my archnemesis is Canadian Winter, and three: Spirited Away is my favorite movie of all time. Since childhood, I have seen this film an embarrassing number of times (which I’ll admit now is probably somewhere upwards of twenty) and if I’m being honest, it probably won’t stop there. It’s my guilty guiltless pleasure.
Part of what keeps me coming back to this masterpiece of animation is, of course, the hand-drawn marvels, from the soot sprites to an adorable mouse companion barely the size of a hand. Part of it is also the weird, strange, and somewhat nonsensical Alice in Wonderland-esque storyline in which our main character finds herself whisked away to the Spirit World with a mysterious bathhouse. But oddly enough, the thing that always sticks with me the most after watching it and the thing that makes me return is the soundtrack. It’s the perfect backdrop to, if you’re arguing with me, arguably the perfect film. It’s full of lilting whimsy, forlorn mystery, and nostalgia. So, last year when my friend told me that not only was the composer of my favorite film coming to town, but he was coming to town to perform his work on Spirited Away (among others) I couldn’t say “take my money!” fast enough.
There are a few more things you should know about me. Four: I am exactly the type of person to fangirl over a 73-year-old Japanese composer. Five: at the height of pandemic boredom my friends and I had a PowerPoint party (which is a lot more fun than it sounds when your presentation is allowed to be as unhinged as possible), where I decided said 73-year-old Japanese composer was going to be the thing I forced my friends to listen to twenty minutes of hyperactive rambling about (and I still have that presentation laying around somewhere in my Google Drive). So, fair warning, I’m about to fangirl for an indeterminate number of words. Get ready.
Here’s something I never thought I’d say/type: I miss our cat. I’ve always been a dog person, though I never had one of my own, and I thought that when I finally had room for a pet in my life, it would be a dog. Enter my now-wife and her cat Loki, and I can see the appeal of the temperamental little murder machines. It probably helps that Loki’s personality is more dog-like, and he would sooner run from a mouse than kill it, but he’s grown on me, and having to leave him with a friend while we move/renovate has made me realize how true this is. While it can be irritating being trapped on the couch because Loki won’t get off my lap, maybe he’s just looking out for me and telling me to slow down a bit. So, while thinking of my own pet, I decided to highlight some items in our collections that focus on pets and their bonds with us1.
Thinking of Loki being far from home triggered a memory from my childhood, a memory of a golden retriever, bull terrier, and Himalayan cat trekking through the wilderness to find their owners. I’m aging myself here, as the movie came out in 1993, but I thought I’d search our catalogue for it anyway, and lo and behold, Homeward Bound: The Incredible Journey is in our collection. I remember watching this one as a kid, then, as kids do, immediately re-watching it. After rewinding the VHS, of course. I have no nostalgia for that. Give me a DVD and the ability to instantly skip to any part of the film over having to wait for physical media to wind through spools any day. So, for those unfamiliar with the movie, it follows the three animals on their journey through the Sierra Nevada mountain range to find the family that they think abandoned them during a move… I’m glad Loki doesn’t have this kind of homing instinct. At least, I don’t think he does. He somehow knew the parking garage of the condo despite only ever being in it in his astronaut bag, though his does not look like a Pokeball. I’ll have to ensure he doesn’t try to bolt for “home” when we have him in the new house. Okay, no more side-tracks.