Grave of the Fireflies: A Story betwixt Water and Fire

            I’d like to start this out by explaining my focus and why I’m planning to stick to a relatively confined reading of the subject matter in this film. As you might notice, when looking at this blog entry in comparison to my entry on Cowboy Bebop and Ghost in the Shell, the entries have been getting successively shorter. I’ll address this by saying that this likely represents my tastes in regard to film and literature – I like to write and think about more philosophical works. Ghost in the Shell is blatantly philosophical in its themes of post-humanism. Cowboy Bebop is pretty tantalizing in its treatment of identity, personal struggle, and lifestyle. Grave of the Fireflies is significantly a different kind of film and anime from those two prior examples. Its main characters are two children and it is set in the midst and immediate post-WWII Kobe, Japan.

            So how does that pertain to me and this blog? It’s a personal taste issue of mine that I just don’t like dealing with stories of tragedy. This film has some themes of bravery and responsibility that are nice but they aren’t experimental – which is what I like, of course, when talking about the major issues of a film. So, instead of looking at this film for the historical significance (of which I feel is important) or themes and discourses involved in the film, I feel more inclined to talk about the visual-artistic properties of it.

What?! Why!!!

            When I was watching the scenes in this film, almost needless to say, my heart was retching the entire way through. Even the happy scenes where Seito takes Setsuko to play and he makes her laugh – such as the scene at the beach or when they leave their aunt – are marked by some kind of omen. There are dead bodies on the beach and at the shelter there is impending starvation. The film starts out telling you ‘I am the main character and I am talking to you and I am dead. Get ready for a tear jerker.’

What hit me the most powerfully about this film is the use of colors pertaining to water and nature, fire and death. The repeated use of these colors in conjunction with the enchanting and wondrous symbol/metaphor of the firefly amplifies the emotional impact of scenes throughout significantly. I came to interpret these visual markers as carrying powerful symbolic meaning. So, let’s start with the first one we see.

Insert music that makes your heart tie itself into a million knots.

            The red lighting and dark shading during the scenes of Seito and Setsuko’s ghosts seems to represent the spectral realm of the deceased. These are fitting colors to choose for the reason that, throughout the entirety of the film, death is marked by an entering into a fire or being consumed by a fire.

When Seito’s mother dies of her burn wounds she is consequently cremated with the many other corpses of the casualties in the Kobe bombing. When Setsuko dies, she is also cremated by Seito, personally.

The cremation of the dead is a traditional ceremony in Japan and gives this film deep, strong roots in Japanese culture.  The red coloring of the environments that Seito and Setsuko’s ghosts visit suggest that they are in limbo; always seen for the duration of the film as illuminated by this gentle and ever-burning, otherworldly flame.

During scenes of liveliness, in the extended flashbacks of the narrative, we often see the colors green and blue. These colors have relatively straightforward significance when compared to those of the spectral. These colors accompany nature and life. Green being the color of plant-life and growth while blue is the color of water, nourishment, and healing.

The plant-life around Seito’s shelter is a vibrant green and the lake in front of the shelter is blue. Water was exemplified as having healing properties early in the film when Seito takes Setsuko to the beach after having moved in with their aunt. She has a rash on her skin that Seito washes with salt water that would supposedly eliminate her rash and end her itching. I’m honestly not too sure what I can say about the color green. Even though Seito’s shelter is surrounded by tall grass and green that would seem to mark resilience and new life death still finds its way to Setsuko.

I guess it goes to show that you can’t explain an entire film through the operation of one aesthetic feature. But, at any rate, let’s continue on to the conclusion of this and then talk about fireflies.

I felt that the final shot of Kobe’s modern city behind Seito and Setsuko’s ghosts was a masterful conclusion to the film. The color theme is present in full and obvious swing in this shot and there is a sort of haunting dissonance that accompanies it. The kids get to see that the city has rebuilt itself and it appears to be prosperous but, at the same time, they aren’t exactly a part of it. They’re highlighted by the dark red colors while standing on the outskirts of the city, looking in. Their coloration is in contrast with those of life and resilience in the city. And, of course, they’re dead.

I think that the symbol of the firefly is pretty obvious – but I want to add a little something to it. There is the trait that fireflies die young which is verbally recognized by Setsuko in the film when she is burying the ones that died overnight in their shelter. Fireflies actually have a somewhat typical lifespan for a beetle but their stage of adulthood is short – lasting two to three weeks. The fact that Seito and Setsuko die young is undeniable which suggests that the firefly is, itself, a metaphor for them and the lives they lead in the movie. In Japanese culture, the soul is often construed as being a floating orb or fireball. The constant involvement and omnipresence of fire in the film says that death is everywhere.

Since Seito and Setsuko can’t survive outside of society, it is an inevitability that fire and death is bound to find them eventually. The ghosts of the two are always accompanied by fireflies and the eerie red light. If we were to interpret the fireflies as being other spirits in the afterlife then it would seem that, in death, Seito and Setsuko have been united with the society that they may have always been intended for. If Seito and Setsuko are symbolic fireflies then it implies a sort of undeniable ‘destiny’ of sorts.

In their own playful, childish, and innocent ways it seems like Seito and Setsuko were, in a way, too good for society to begin with. As ghosts, they achieve permanence in their beauty as characters. Often times throughout the film I was frustrated by Seito’s reluctance to find work and take further precautions to take care of Setsuko. But, in the prevalent way that tragedy celebrates the romance in what was never meant to be, the ultimate death of the characters seems like a better alternative than seeing them lose what makes them who they are. Last, but not least... okay, nevermind, whatever... at least they have each other.

And that's how I obtained major depression.