Earwig and the Witch (impressions)

Reviews

Polygon

31 January 2021

Studio Ghibli’s CGI test run Earwig and the Witch is better than it looks

But anyone expecting a 3D Spirited Away will be disappointed

By Tasha Robinson

Before watching Studio Ghibli’s new movie Earwig and the Witch, it pays to set expectations. Longtime Ghibli fans who go in hoping for a theatrical masterpiece on the order of Spirited Away are setting themselves up for disappointment, and even expecting one of Isao Takahata’s risky Ghibli style experiments is setting the bar too high.

Earwig and the Witch is the first CG feature made under the Ghibli banner, and it’s clearly aimed at small children rather than an all-ages audience. Director Goro Miyazaki]] consciously chose the small scale and simple story to make the project manageable for the largely freelance team who produced it, while Ghibli’s traditional animators were working on the next project from studio co-founder [[Hayao Miyazaki. Knowing Earwig was a cautious trial run for new technology won’t make this 82-minute film feel like a Ghibli classic, but it should temper some of the fears fans have expressed that this minor work represents the height of the studio’s future ambitions, and prep them for the project’s limitations.

The problems with Earwig and the Witch go beyond the animation, which lacks the visual depth and sophistication of recent Japanese CG features like Lupin III: The First. Like Ghibli’s traditionally animated 2004 feature Howl’s Moving Castle, Earwig is based on a novel by British novelist Diana Wynne Jones. But where Howl is one of her best and liveliest novels (which is saying a lot, given her deep bookshelf of terrific fantasy work), Earwig may be her simplest and most unrewarding. Published just after her death in 2011, it’s barely more than a short story, and Ghibli’s adaptation adds little to the stripped-down narrative.

Plucky protagonist Earwig is a witch’s daughter, abandoned at an orphanage in infancy by a harried mother being chased by 12 other witches for reasons never explained in either version. As a young girl, Earwig has learned to manipulate adults and kids alike, and she maintains her dominion over her orphanage through obsequiousness and favors. Then a witch named Bella Yaga and her eerie companion The Mandrake show up at the orphanage and adopt Earwig for use as a witch’s assistant, grinding rat-bones and slicing snake-skins for Bella Yaga’s spells. Bella Yaga thinks of her as a slave who will need to be threatened into submission. Earwig thinks of Bella Yaga as a chance to learn magic and gain even more power.

From the start, one of the movie’s biggest problems is that Earwig isn’t a particularly appealing protagonist. It’s one thing to have an omniscient narrator in the book proclaim, a little judgmentally, that she likes the orphanage because so many people do exactly what she wants. It’s quite another to have her openly boast in the film to her best friend, Custard, that she “controls” everyone at the orphanage, or to watch her later proclaim that controlling Bella Yaga and The Mandrake is a natural next goal. Ghibli films are full of genki girls who roll up their sleeves and put in the hard labor that produces good outcomes from bad situations, but they aren’t ordinarily this conniving and smug about it.

Earwig’s methods of control — wide-eyed insincerity, lavish compliments for her targets, and sneering behind their backs — doesn’t make her any more appealing. Ghibli protagonists are usually notable specifically for their sincerity: even the rare villains are straightforward about their desires, and fully immersed in their beliefs. Earwig’s open two-faced behavior would make her a minor villain in most kids’ stories, rather than the hero.

Fortunately, she’s up against outsized evils that balance out her selfishness. Where Jones’ books usually have a distinctive voice that isn’t quite like any other author’s, Earwig and the Witch reads a lot like a Roald Dahl story in the vein of Matilda or James and the Giant Peach, with comically awful adults whose misbehavior justifies equally outsized kid vengeance. Bella Yaga’s frequent threat to infest Earwig with purple-and-green worms if she doesn’t behave is fairly intimidating, and so are the frequent stormy rages from The Mandrake, a creature who changes size and shape when he’s annoyed, and gets annoyed very easily.

Earwig and the Witch doesn’t look much like a Ghibli movie, and not just because of the comparatively stiff, simple, plastic-textured CG animation. But the few familiar elements include Bella Yaga’s wild, overripe design, which recalls the similarly extreme visual caricatures of Howl’s Witch of the Waste and Spirited Away’s intimidating witch Yubaba. Bella Yaga’s familiar, a talking black cat named Thomas, is similarly reminiscent of Jiji in Kiki’s Delivery Service. But the biggest connection is the way strong emotion can alter everything about people, including their forms. The Mandrake, with his long, grouchy face and variable shape, is the most creative and colorful part of the film, and the most enjoyably scary for the intended child audience. An early moment where he glowers at Earwig at the orphanage, then gradually darkens and swells upward until his head brushes the ceiling, is a deliciously terrifying moment out of a fairy-tale nightmare.

Earwig could use more authentically creepy moments like that, and more departures from Jones’ very simple outline, which pits Earwig against Bella Yaga in a battle of wills that’s over almost as it begins. Purists could well complain at how far Howl’s Moving Castle departs from Jones’ terrific story in order to wedge in Hayao Miyazaki’s longstanding personal obsessions, like flight, the destructive and horrific nature of war, and the way courage conquers evil and love saves lives. But at least the film has a point of view, and the benefit of its creator’s highly specific and recognizable voice.

Earwig, by contrast, often feels generic. The departures from Jones’ book, which offer more of a look at Earwig’s mother and Bella Yaga’s past, are by far the most exciting parts of the story, and the most evocative. They just don’t go far enough. Instead, they open up enough questions to make this film feel like a pilot for a series that would take a much more specific voyage of discovery. What’s up with those 12 other witches chasing Earwig’s mom? Given how much this film feels like a test case, maybe Goro and Ghibli should take advantage of the time and effort invested in design and execution here, and keep expanding the Earwigverse. It’s wise to keep expectations for this project fairly low, but that shouldn’t keep anyone from hoping for bigger and better things in Ghibli’s future.

The Film Stage

1 February 2021

http://thefilmstage.com/earwig-and-the-witch-review-studio-ghibli-goro-miyazaki/

Earwig and the Witch Review: Studio Ghibli’s First 3D Animation is Fun But Unpolished

By Jared Mobarak

Those familiar with Diana Wynne Jones’ children’s book Earwig and the Witch will be surprised to find Gorô Miyazaki’s cinematic adaptation beginning with a chase scene pitting a red-headed woman on a motorcycle against a yellow Citroën on her tail. They weave in and out of traffic with impossible speed and maneuvering before we see the first bit of magic used to create some extra distance. That’s when a cut occurs for us to watch the unknown redhead walk through a cemetery towards a large orphanage. With a rushed goodbye she leaves a baby at the door. All that’s with her to give any sign of identity is a cassette tape and a note asking for shelter until her mother’s promised return … even if it takes years.

Screenwriters Keiko Niwa and Emi Gunji have thus given shape to Jones’ brief backstory, extrapolating on the note’s MacGuffin (“I must escape the other twelve witches after me before retrieving my daughter”) in a way that has us anticipating said return despite the book rendering one unnecessary. It’s an odd choice that ultimately sets the audience’s expectations much higher than this otherwise entertaining if slight yarn can hold. They try to erect some scaffolding by way of a completely new rock band subplot that seeks to connect the characters with a bow, but it only adds to the imbalance since doing so demands a payoff beyond what Jones intended. More than Earwig (Taylor Henderson), they’ve made things about a coven the story’s abrupt end fails to sufficiently explain.

What’s great about the book is the way in which it brushes Earwig’s mother under the rug. The idea that she’s the daughter of a witch adds intrigue and perhaps implicit magic to the way she has grown to expertly manipulate those around her, but that’s all it needs to do. That Earwig is eventually adopted by Bella Yaga (Vanessa Marshall) and Mandrake (Richard E. Grant) — a powerful witch and warlock in their own right — becomes a welcome incident born out of coincidence rather than destiny. Miyazaki (who took over the project from his father Hayao in order to make it Studio Ghibli’s first 3D-animated feature) and company’s desire to transform it into the latter only complicates things by painting them into a corner they can’t quite exit successfully.

Don’t therefore expect a satisfying payoff to that new content. It’s fun, though: the idea that Bella Yaga and Mandrake have a history wherein they used to be rock stars is exciting both thematically and for Earwig’s youthful exuberance. That they now wallow in the self-pity of their failures by pretending music no longer exists (Bella) or playing it in secret only to stew with rage when a new career as a novelist doesn’t pan out (Mandrake) makes it an in-road into their passion that Earwig can exploit to get her way. She now has more leverage with which to take control like she did at the orphanage (with the headmistress wrapped around her finger and best friend Custard always in tow). Music becomes her trump card.

The book’s acclaim without its inclusion proves she doesn’t really need it, but it nevertheless bolsters her upper hand once things get chaotic. We’re talking about formidable conjurers after all. Just because Bella Yaga is selling pedestrian potions to lazy humans looking to win contests or fall in love doesn’t mean she can’t instill fear in all who cross her path when the occasion calls for it — including her familiar (Dan Stevens’ talking black cat, Thomas). And just because the Mandrake is ostensibly going all emo when playing keyboard in his room with a figurative “do not disturb” sign on the door doesn’t mean he and his demon minions won’t turn a wall into lava so the full, dragon-scaled breadth of their malice can be unleashed.

That potential for nightmarish carnage is what makes the story so great — that and the fact that Earwig often revels in the pandemonium because she knows her calm demeanor in its face will keep those wielding it as a weapon off-balance. Her character is an absolute delight in this way. She sprinkles on the sugar when needed to survey her environment and collect data for her next move and pours the spice when the time to pounce arrives. She’ll do whatever work Bella Yaga demands as long as she gets to learn some magic in return. The moment the woman ignores this quid pro quo, however, is the moment when Earwig finds a way to teach herself how to dole out revenge. She’s the perfect mix of precocious and devious.

And it’s enough to really enjoy what Miyazaki has put on-screen in what’s an exactingly faithful adaptation when stripped of the rock-n-roll. That this music gives the whole some extra character and electricity also almost makes up for the reality that the ends of its addition don’t quite justify the means. Where the benefit of the doubt is tougher to supply, however, is in the choice to go with 3D-animation in lieu of the studio’s bread-and-butter 2D. Bella Yaga’s laboratory and the Mandrake’s firework-sparking devolution into pure wrath aside, most of the environments and characters appear unpolished and plastic—especially since we’re used to the elaborately sumptuous frames Ghibli-branded films usually deliver (although the bacon and French toast did look delicious). Even Earwig feels a bit flat.

Bella Yaga and Mandrake have the same disproportionate figures the elder Miyazaki’s villains are known for and yet that comparison only had me wondering how great hand-drawn versions would have looked instead (crayon-like drawings during the credits supply a prospective glimpse). Does the animation hinder the story or content, though? No. You eventually get used to it like anything else. Would I rather have been blown away? Of course. I’ll instead think of Earwig and the Witch as an interesting experiment. A first run at a new medium with a breezy, light-on-plot escapade reminiscent of Kiki’s Delivery Service rather than the densely intricate narrative of Jones’ own Howl’s Moving Castle. It will entertain kids and adults alike with humor and magic before it fades away later that day.

The Hollywood Reporter

1 February 2021

http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/earwig-and-the-witch-film-review

Earwig and the Witch: Film Review

By Michael Rechtshaffen

The Bottom Line - Missing that old Miyazaki magic.

Richard E. Grant and Kacey Musgraves lend their voices to the English-language version of the latest Studio Ghibli offering.

The Studio Ghibli faithful will unlikely be swept away by Earwig and the Witch (definitely not to be confused with Hedwig and the Angry Inch), a pronounced departure from tradition that proves dispiritingly generic in both appearance and tone.

Directed by Goro Miyazaki — his acclaimed father Hayao, receives a “planning” credit here — the studio’s first feature in four years is also the first to forego its trademark hand-drawn, two-dimensional animation with full-blown 3D CG that feels as jarringly intrusive as it does coldly anonymous.

As with Howl’s Moving Castle before it, the source material comes from a children’s book of the same name by British author Diana Wynne Jones (in this case posthumously published after her 2011 death), but the disjointed storytelling here also falls short of the usual expectations.

An official selection of the 2020 Cannes Film Festival, airing on Japan’s NHK in December, the English-language version of the production, featuring the voices of Richard E. Grant and country singer Kacey Musgraves, will play in select theaters starting Feb. 3 via GKIDS and Fathom Events and subsequently stream on HBO Max as of Feb. 5.

Set in 1990s rural England, the story follows the (mis)adventures of a plucky young girl (Taylor Paige Henderson) who had been dropped off as a baby on the steps of an orphanage by her flame-haired rocker chick mom (Musgraves). The latter leaves a cryptic note reading, “Got the other 12 witches all chasing me. I’ll be back when I’ve shook them off.”

Earwig, renamed Erica by the motherly matron (Pandora Colin), contentedly has the run of the place by the time she’s relocated to the foster home of deeply unpleasant witch Bella Yaga (Vanessa Marshall), accompanied by her better half, a towering, brooding, demonic presence known as The Mandrake (Grant). Put to work tidying up the filthy laboratory where Bella Yaga has a business mixing potions and casting spells for neighboring clients, Erica/Earwig manages to split her time between a mountain of chores and uncovering the mystery behind a cassette tape bearing her name.

You can’t fault Miyazaki, who previously directed the well-received Studio Ghibli feature, From Up on Poppy Hill, for attempting to move the 35-year-old animation house in some fresh creative directions; he likely had a model in mind that was more along the edgier lines of a Laika.

Unfortunately, despite the occasional lively visual touches, and a playfully out-of-character '70s prog rock score by Satoshi Takebe, the ghoulish display too often conjures up a standard-issue Hotel Transylvania rather than an inspired Coraline.

Likewise an adaptation, credited to Keiko Niwa and Emi Gunji, that adds its own frustrating tangle of loose ends to a Harry Potter-esque story that already felt like a bit of a muddle. At the time of the book’s release, one reviewer noted that while it starts out promisingly with all the trademarks of the late Jones’ writing, “it feels unfinished and not quite fully developed.” Unfortunately, those sentiments also apply to this less than enchanting Studio Ghibli offering.

Vox

3 February 2021

http://www.vox.com/culture/22259466/earwig-and-the-witch-review-studio-ghibli-3d-animation

Earwig and the Witch is Studio Ghibli’s first 3D animated film. It’s disappointingly subpar.

Fun but baffling, Ghibli’s first foray into 3D animation feels like Miyazaki Gorō’s unfinished homework assignment.

By Aja Romano

Studio Ghibli, home to the films of Miyazaki Hayao and many other animated masterpieces, has long been a stalwart holdout against the industry’s overall shift into 3D CG animation.

That changes with Ghibli’s newest feature release, Earwig and the Witch, coming to theaters on February 3 and joining HBO Max’s Ghibli collection on February 5. Directed by Miyazaki Hayao’s son, Miyazaki Gorō, the new film feels a little like a collage of familiar Ghibli traits, perhaps assembled to take the edge off the movie’s lackluster new visual mode.

At the same time, while Earwig mostly still looks like a Ghibli film, and while it’s still a cute and intriguing entry into the Ghibli catalog, it’s missing the essence of a Ghibli film.

Rating: 3 out of 5

Earwig is based on a Diana Wynne Jones fantasy novel, just like one of the studio’s most successful films, 2004’s Howl’s Moving Castle. Like Howl’s Moving Castle and many other Ghibli films, Earwig centers on a young girl who’s unexpectedly transported into a magical world — one she quickly has to learn to navigate with the help of a few magical friends. And like most Ghibli films, it’s dripping with a heady combination of gorgeous baroque detail and surreal thematic elements.

Ghibli films are often closer to moving portraits than films; that is, their character explorations and aesthetic sensibility are frequently more important than the plot. Ghibli fans love the studio’s catalog in large part because Ghibli films are so good at drawing you into their atmosphere, their setting, their landscape, and their sensory details. Earwig honors this tradition in many respects: It will certainly appeal to people who like to probe the in-betweens and backstories and unexplored details. If you wanted to see more herbology classes at Hogwarts, if you love exploratory side quests in video games, or if you’re drawn to the practical magic of stories like Kalila Stormfire, you’ll find Earwig hard to resist.

But it’s also an improbable, odd, frequently puzzling love song to youthful rebellion, rock music, and broken found families. These elements don’t entirely cohere with each other — nor does the film even attempt to have them make sense as a plot. And while those incongruities serve to make Earwig quizzically endearing, they also reveal the gaps in storytelling ability between Miyazaki senior and Miyazaki junior.

Earwig and the Witch opens with a mysterious redheaded woman abandoning her infant daughter, Earwig, at an orphanage, declaring she’ll return for the girl after she’s dealt with “the other 12 witches.” Twelve years later, having long since given up on any family members claiming her, Earwig finally gets adopted.

Her saviors are a sinister couple — a cranky nameless witch and a powerful demon called the Mandrake. The Mandrake seems cold but quickly develops a soft spot for Earwig. The witch, meanwhile, treats Earwig like an indentured servant: She keeps the teen imprisoned in the house and demands that she serve as an assistant, helping the witch prepare ingredients for the small spells her customers request. While at first Earwig is eager to learn the tricks of her trade, she soon tires of the witch’s abusive treatment. So with the help of the witch’s black cat, an adorable familiar (a pet with magical qualities) named Thomas, she starts attempting some magic of her own to make her life more bearable.

That’s the blurb version of the plot. What this description can’t capture is twofold: how charming Earwig and her new kitty are as they progress through the storyline — and how patchy and full of narrative gaps that storyline is. The cottage the odd couple inhabits (the setting isn’t explicit, but it seems like suburban Britain) is a magical dimension, full of unexplored caverns and rooms that mysteriously move around. The witch’s workroom is a messy, overstuffed lair full of ingredients, spilled potions, and filth — every kid’s dream space. Earwig isn’t thrilled about her indentured servitude, but she has a blast exploring the house, and you can’t blame her.

The more she explores, however, the more huge questions she — and in turn, we, the audience — have. For example: Are the Mandrake and the witch actually a couple, or are they just odd friends and roommates? Is Earwig actually biologically related to one or both of them, and did they know that when they came to adopt her? How do the glimpses we get of their shared past (when they were much different people) explain how they became who they are now — specifically, why is the witch so mean and abusive and why is the Mandrake so antisocial? Why did the redheaded woman abandon Earwig to begin with? Does Earwig have any innate magical powers or is she, as her name suggests, just really good at getting her way? And what do witches and magic have to do with the lively rock band Earwig discovers shortly after leaving the orphanage?

These aren’t carefully seeded questions the film sets up and then systematically answers, nor are they trivial side questions that don’t matter to the overall story. The storyline — Earwig getting adopted and then attempting to fix her problems with magic — raises all of these glaring concerns but then doesn’t attempt to resolve them. They leave the whole film feeling like a setup for a sequel, or prequel, or something. It’s as if Miyazaki Gorō got impatient in the home stretch and simply didn’t complete his assignment, leaving the whole film unfinished.

The result is so uneven that it’s possible to read Earwig and the Witch as the escapist fantasy of an abuse victim — one in which she uses music and magic to unlock the secret to capturing the hearts of her abusers and gaining freedom from her isolated, overworked imprisonment. Obviously, I wouldn’t recommend letting kids in on that interpretation; but it speaks volumes that Earwig’s themes are so disjointed that it’s not quite clear what the takeaway is. Miyazaki Gorō’s direction lacks balance, and Earwig’s 3D animation is too flat to compensate for it

Ordinarily, ambiguity in a Studio Ghibli movie would be a strength, not a weakness. Ghibli films are famous for the way they use silence and transitions, liminal spaces and in-between sequences, to capture the profundity of moods and moments. A Ghibli film captures the essence of mono no aware, the Japanese concept of meaning and beauty arising from awareness of the transience and ephemeral nature of things. The most memorable Ghibli films and scenes often seem to generate energy from total stillness.

Unfortunately, none of those attributes are really present in Earwig. There are some moments early on when there are still shots of nature, or slow Ghibli-esque pans across landscapes. But these isolated shots don’t connect to a larger overall mood, characterization, or thematic idea. They feel like pale imitations from a director who knows what Ghibli films do, but not why.

This disconnect becomes even clearer once Earwig finds herself caught in the witch’s house — because from that point on, the film is never still again. Instead, we’re plunged into a noisy, busy sonic and visual landscape from which we never really get to escape.

In other words, Earwig looks like a Ghibli film, but it doesn’t ever truly feel like one. And even the highly striking animation aesthetic for which Ghibli is renowned feels largely absent, due to the muted, flat palette of the film’s CGI. Partly this a function of the technology itself, but partly it’s because we spend so much time in the shadowy, dim house of the witch. Save for a few brightly lit scenes of nostalgia, Earwig and the Witch never seems to fully transmit the bright, vibrant visual style usually seen in a Ghibli product.

So we’re left with an incomplete, paint-by-numbers version of a Ghibli film that fails to explain its strange parts. Ultimately, Earwig and the Witch is a far cry from Studio Ghibli at its finest.

Screen Rant

3 February 2021

http://screenrant.com/earwig-and-the-witch-2021-movie-reviews/

While Earwig and the Witch's CG animation is lovely and memorably unique, it can’t begin to save an underdeveloped plot and characters.

By Mae Abdulbaki

It’s hard to believe that Earwig and the Witch is the famed Studio Ghibli’s first 3D CG animated feature. The renowned studio has gifted audiences with such exuberant films like Spirited Away and The Wind Rises. With Earwig and the Witch, however, the film falls short of delivering a fully realized story and it leaves a lot to be desired. While Earwig and the Witch's CG animation is lovely and memorably unique, it can’t begin to save an underdeveloped plot and characters.

Based on the novel by Diana Wynne Jones, Earwig and the Witch follows the story of Earwig (Kokoro Hirasawa), a spirited and mischievous ten-year-old who grew up unaware that her mother was a witch. Earwig’s mom (Sherina Munaf) dropped off her daughter at an orphanage when she was a baby after being chased by unknown figures, believing the only way to protect Earwig was to leave her behind. Years later, Earwig is adopted by the witch Bella Yaga (Shinobu Terajima), who needs a helping hand with her spells, and the Mandrake (Etsushi Toyokawa), a fearsome man who doesn’t like to be disturbed by noise. Together, they make for an odd pair and Earwig is in for a rude awakening and the biggest challenge of her life.

Earwig and the Witch — which was directed by Gorō Miyazaki, with a screenplay by Keiko Niwa and Emi Gunji — maintains some of the charm by focusing on the eccentric relationship between its three characters. Earwig takes pleasure in doing anything and everything to grate on Bella Yaga’s nerves while trying her hardest to escape the confines of her situation. The Mandrake remains a mystery for most of the film, though, and it’s a shame because there is a lot of potential lost by not building upon his connection with Bella Yaga and Earwig.

However, as intriguing and unique as the characters are, the film’s story doesn’t live up to its initial potential. When the film opens with Earwig’s mom being on the run, it’s expected that the animation would tackle or, at the very least, address what happened to her. Why was she really on the run and why did she stay away for so long? Unfortunately, Earwig and the Witch is not interested in this plot or her backstory. Neither, apparently, is Earwig, whose curiosity should have gotten the better of her. Considering how precocious and smart she is, the fact that she doesn’t bother investigating her mother’s identity does a disservice to the story.

The issue isn’t even in its CGI animation, which is wonderful. It’s teeming with color and a sharp, magical vibrancy, infused with a personality the narrative altogether lacks. The pacing isn’t necessarily slow, but there is a general tediousness about the film that stalls its momentum and bogs down the narrative. It’s as if the filmmakers were holding back, which leaves the storytelling wanting. What’s more, Earwig and the Witch leaves its most interesting moments and revelations to the very end, tacked on as though a cliffhanger ending to a TV episode and not a film. By then, it’s far too late for the audience to be invested in what may or may not come next.

Studio Ghibli’s first foray into the world of 3D CG animation is promising, but where Earwig and the Witch could have used a push is in how to develop a compelling story. There is no spark nor a deeper connection between the characters, whose development would have greatly helped along the second act of the film. After all, there’s only so long a movie can rely on being somewhat charismatic before realizing that there is actually no cohesive plot. Earwig and the Witch has all the parts needed to be a fun and memorable film, but seems to lack the manual for how to bring it all together.

SlashFilm

4 February 2021

...[1]

By Hoai-Tran Bui

‘Earwig and the Witch’ Review: Studio Ghibli’s First Foray Into 3D Animation is a Flat Shadow of Itself

There’s been a lot of trepidation heading into Studio Ghibli’s Earwig and the Witch. It is the studio’s first foray into CG animation, a technology it had used sparingly for high-octane action sequences in Spirited Away and Princess Miyazaki or for the clattering steampunk castle of Howl’s Moving Castle, but never to this extent and never for a feature film. And that trepidation only grew with subsequent trailers for Earwig and the Witch showing the film’s oddly stiff character animation and flat, untextured surfaces. It looked like an unfinished 3D-animated imitation of Ghibli’s classic warm, genial art style — a style that has mostly been instructed by the animation style of Hayao Miyazaki — but missing the soulfulness that typically characterizes the studio’s films.

It’s a criticism that Earwig and the Witch director Goro Miyazaki probably isn’t unfamiliar with. His debut feature Tales From Earthsea boasted visually stunning backgrounds — a product of the director’s background in architecture — but blank, empty characters and a dull narrative that felt like a pale imitation of the best of Ghibli. His second film From Up on Poppy Hill was a promising improvement (perhaps aided by his father Hayao Miyazaki’s unasked-for intervention, as chronicled in the NHK docuseries 10 Years With Hayao Miyazaki), so Earwig and the Witch had the potential to be even better — a chance for Goro to step out of his famous father’s shadow and establish his own visual style and creative identity. Sadly, left to his own devices, Goro falls short.

Earwig and the Witch looks and feels like a made-for-TV CG-animated movie — and in fairness, it kind of is. A co-production between Studio Ghibli and the Japanese broadcasting company NHK, Earwig and the Witch premiered in Japan on NHK General TV in December 2020, likely to a smaller audience and lower expectations than will be met with its U.S. premiere, which marks the first Ghibli film in five years. Maybe you can blame those lower TV-quality standards, or maybe point the finger at its production process — in which a whole new team was brought in to craft the 3D animation — or perhaps just chalk it up to a director who still hasn’t found his own creative identity yet. But regardless, Earwig and the Witch is a disappointing hour and a half of plot set-up that feels like it ends before it begins.

Based on the children’s book by Diana Wynne Jones (whose work Ghibli had adapted before with Howl’s Moving Castle), Earwig and the Witch follows the spunky orphan girl Earwig, who was dropped on the steps of an orphanage by a mysterious woman as a baby. Now 10 years old, Earwig (Taylor Paige Henderson) has learned how to rule the orphanage, bullying her fellow orphans into submission while playing coy and innocent for the matrons. But Earwig’s comfortable existence is cut short with the appearance of Bella Yaga (Vanessa Marshall), a stern witch who adopts Earwig and brings her to her home to serve as the assistant for her and the intimidating Mandrake (Richard E. Grant). Earwig is at first perturbed by her new living arrangement until she realizes that she can get something out of it: she’ll strike a deal with Bella Yaga to teach her to become a witch. But Bella Yaga rules with an iron thumb, forcing Earwig to do mundane tasks like grinding up rat bones and cleaning the filthy potion-soaked floors. But even Bella Yaga tiptoes around Mandrake, who is liable to be go off on a demonic rage if he isn’t served his favorite dishes. Unhappy with this tedious existence, Earwig forms an alliance with Thomas (Dan Stevens), the beleaguered cat familiar of Bella Yaga, to teach Bella Yaga a lesson.

Earwig and the Witch is an incredibly low-stakes fantasy comedy, though that’s fairly par for the course for a Ghibli movie. In fact, some of the best films of the animation studio are the ones where nothing much happens until the plot kicks in at the last 10 minutes, letting us live with, and enjoy the company of, a group of characters and their rich, awe-inspiring worlds. Except with Earwig and the Witch, there’s not much to enjoy. The characters feel half-baked at best, the most interesting being Bella Yaga and Mandrake, whose individual character traits beyond “tough and scary” don’t start to surface until well into the third act. We’re stuck inside the house with Earwig for the majority of the film, left to break up the monotony with some magical hijinks that earn a few chuckles at best. The question of Earwig’s parentage, lightly teased at the beginning of the film, isn’t even brought up until the very (and I mean very) end. And Earwig may be the film’s most glaring flaw: a snot-nosed brat stays as much a brat through the film. Ghibli movies aren’t without their unlikable protagonists — in fact, those are often their most interesting — but it’s the existence of an arc that lends them weight, and complexity, and soul. Earwig goes through no such arc, instead attempting to use the same tactics that made her the ruler of her orphanage on her new guardians, and meeting not much resistance.

The issue with Earwig and the Witch is that it feels like an 82-minute build-up to the story. It suffers from the “origin story” approach that far too many shows and movies have taken to, and it’s not a very interesting origin story at that, though it does show moments of promise — one particularly trippy scene when the Mandrake’s powers are unleashed comes to mind. Earwig and the Witch feels like a film going through the motions, but not understanding the emotion behind the big narrative beats it’s trying to pull off. It’s a film matched by its flat animation style: incomplete and uninspired.