My Neighbor Totoro and Spirited Away

I definitely don't understand the mass acclaim for this and Spirited Away (another recent viewing). They don't make sense to me -- I don't mean as narratives, which are deliberately surreal, but as movies: I don't understand why someone would make this and why someone would watch this. I don't understand the appeal. I mean I certainly didn't mind them, and maybe as a child in Japan I would have relished the humor and drama. But the ostensibly universal appeal and acclaim are lost on me -- at best it was a pleasant visual escape and a children's movie. I consider myself about as patient as moviegoers go, and I felt impatient for anything interesting or inspiring. I must conclude I'm just not the audience -- which is confusing as these films are thoroughly renowned in my culture, and I must be in about the 98th percentile for suitability to watch them. How did American critics and general Americans experience them different from I? What am I missing? They also may be slightly dated. I'd just expect myself to be relatively attentive to their value, in a society that loves them, but I really didn't get much.

The Godfather and Part II

I'm curious why people think Part II is equal to or greater than the first. Their greatness doesn't seem comparable -- the first seems so much more iconic and influential and inspiring. I say the first properly contains Michael's arc; the second is like viewing -x^2 from 1 to 5: it's depressing. You'll grasp its character if you view it -1 to 1, and you won't feel the need to check further out -- certainly not for longer than you were viewing it from -1 to 1. Maybe a quick peek as to a squashed spider in your hand. Part II seemed great but grim. All familiar characters are declining in spirit, and no new characters rescue the sinking. Hyman Roth and Frank Pentangeli, for being (as I recall) the primary new characters, seem so forgettable relative to all we met in the first. Younger Vito lacks personality. I heard Pentangeli was supposed to be Clemenza before Clemenza's actor bowed out -- that would have helped a little, especially amidst cuts to younger Clemenza. Still, younger Vito's story lacks spark and everyone in Michael's story is sinking slowly and surely. It's just grim, without all the electricity of the first. It's like when Boogie Nights hits the 80s and everyone gets arrogant and coked out and depressed. Here it's 1958 and Michael is shriveling. How could I call this nearly as thrilling as Brando's accent, Sonny getting swiss-cheesed, Michael making his bones, Luca being put to sleep...? Maybe it's superior in some ways I didn't identify, but how could I possibly prefer it?

The prequel bits seem too distant. It feels like a separate story, a different character. Prequels are most effective when you feel the connection and directionality relative to the familiar -- otherwise in themselves they're usually just a less interesting story. They need that connection. I didn't feel any connection between De Niro's Vito and Brando's. It felt like a separate and less interesting story. I also didn't feel the magnetism and respect toward younger Vito that defines his "Godfather" nature, according to the novel and as upheld by the latter Vito. Here I admit potential bias in being far better acquainted with the material of the first movie, through the movie and its PS2 incarnation. I don't feel much affection for De Niro as Vito.

I have a history of feeling depressed when faced with portraits of an older person soon after seeing portraits of him/her younger. This happened mildly in Boogie Nights as mentioned, and severely when I was getting obsessed with Bob Dylan and would feel sick listening to his newer records. After a while I refused to listen to or view photos of or acknowledge the existence of Bob Dylan as anything older than 30 years. I've gotten over that, for him, but feel a bit of it reflecting on Part I Michael vs. Part II Michael. If Coppola and Puzo had written Part II as anything but a continuous descent, I may feel differently. Why did it have to be that way? I haven't read or seen The Road, but I imagine at least feeling human connection with the characters to justify all the grim. But I, like Kay, can't really feel love for Michael in Part II.