Ghibli AI fever has taken over our phone screens but this week we watched a movie Max Min And Meowzaki by director Padmakumar Narasimhamurthy that wants to reclaim Hayao Miyazaki’s real legacy, reigniting debates around artistic originality and a long-standing criticism of AI-generated art. The filmmaker believes the social media discourse on the subject has missed what truly makes the Japanese master timeless.

His Hindi film starring Adil Hussain, Nasser, Medha Shankr, Siddharth Menon, Mandira Bedi, Nafisa Ali and Vidhatri Bandi among others, even names its feline after Miyazaki. But the reference for Narasimhamurthy, it’s about bringing back the values that define Miyazaki’s cinema. “I think the biggest thing is friendship,” he says.

“If it’s genuine, it endures. You see that throughout the film. Every relationship begins with friendship before it becomes anything else. That’s something Miyazaki has always understood. Whether it’s between men and women, humans and non-humans, his films always celebrate the depth of friendship.”

Just as important, he says, is compassion. “In Miyazaki’s films, people genuinely care about each other. We are closed to other points of view. For instance, a track I used in this film is about a friend of mine who cut all ties because his girlfriend wanted to have an abortion and I supported her because well, her body, her decision! People think it’s biographical, but it’s really not. Some of what my relationship with my father was, is mirrored in the movie. I built in a grandfather I wish I could have had. The bittersweet breakup is well, life,” he says, with a glint of joy in his eyes. 

The politics in Max Min And Meowzaki are equally important. It goes on to discuss everyday politics, religious discrimination, body autonomy for women, youth protest in a regular everyday fashion, while focussing on intergenerational trauma, grief and moving on. Narasimhamurthy rejects the idea that Miyazaki’s films are escapist.

“Every Miyazaki film is political. Princess Mononoke is about nature and coexistence. Kiki’s Delivery Service has a feminist undertone. Spirited Away is about consumerism. They’re wrapped inside beautiful fairy tales, but they’re all saying something about the world,” he says, adding that he simply follows suit.

He admits he has never believed in separating his politics from his filmmaking. “I wear everything on my sleeve. My first film, A Billion Colour Story, came out during the lynching years because I had something I needed to say. My greatest fear is the division and suspicion that exists today. What is the need for all this hatred? Art is supposed to speak the conscience of humanity.”

That conviction, however, came at a price. Even this gentle, feel-good drama wasn’t spared. “I ran into censor problems with this film. There were lines I had to change. References to Muslims were removed. I even got a lesson in casteism during the process. It’s ironic. Here’s a film that’s fundamentally about kindness and healing, and we’re still afraid of conversations.”

The resurgence of AI-generated Ghibli-style artwork has only strengthened his belief that the industry is heading in the wrong direction. “I’m very against what AI is doing right now because it’s destroying lives, not just livelihoods. AI isn’t creating original work. It’s making mathematical combinations of everything that already exists. What happens to the musician who’s spent a lifetime mastering an instrument? What happens to writers? It’s not just eroding art, it’s eroding readership.”

He believes preserving the work of masters like Miyazaki is an ethical responsibility. “We should be using technology to remove human drudgery, not replace human creativity.” His own film reflects that philosophy. Therapy, forgiveness, broken relationships and complicated family dynamics all emerge naturally instead of being reduced to dramatic plot devices.

“We’ve all been somebody’s toxic boyfriend or toxic partner. We’ve all had toxic partners. Then you grow up and realize it didn’t have to be that bitter. Therapy teaches you to forgive yourself and everyone else. You just keep trying to do life a little better, parenting a little better, loving a little better. That’s what this film is about.”

The filmmaker says one of his biggest challenges today is simply finding backing for stories that choose empathy over spectacle. “I make films that feel good but still ask difficult questions. Financing them has become harder and harder. Then I see films full of misogyny getting massive budgets. That’s disillusioning. But I’m a writer. I’m a dreamer. I’ll keep making these stories. If you call out a little dissidence in society, what’s wrong with that? Art is meant to speak the conscience of humanity.”

But does it have a nod from the master himself? After making the film, Narasimhamurthy even tried to reach Miyazaki himself. “We screened the film in Osaka and reached out to Studio Ghibli because I wanted Mr Miyazaki to watch it. That’s all. We aren’t borrowing his work; we’re celebrating everything he stands for. We couldn’t reach him, but I hope someday he watches it.”

For Narasimhamurthy, Max Min And Meowzaki is far from an attempt to recreate Studio Ghibli in Hindi. It’s an attempt to revive something far more elusive. “I feel like I’m hugging people with this film. That’s all I wanted to do,” he signs off.

Yuka Okuda, a Rabindrasangeet performer, delivers a talk on Ray’s ‘Charulata’.

All seats look taken in a mediumsized Tokyo theatre on an Aug evening in the Japanese summer. The audience listens rapt to a woman sitting on stage, framed by the movie screen behind her. Clearly, it’s not just another screening, but then, neither can the topic be called usual for this part of the world. For the woman on stage is discussing Rabindrasangeet, and the context is ‘Charulata’, maestro and auteur Satyajit Ray’s 1964 masterpiece, one of the seven films that were shown last year in Japan as part of a retrospective of his works.

The lineup — featuring ‘Jalsaghar’ (1958), ‘Mahanagar’ (1963), ‘Charulata’ (1964), ‘Kapurush’, ‘Mahapurush’ (both 1965), ‘Nayak’ (1966), and ‘Jai Baba Felunath (1979) — earning their first theatrical release in Japan, spans a two-decade arc of some of Ray’s most memorable films. The films were also made available on VOD and home video with Japanese subtitles. The demand has grown to the point that these films are set for a Blu-ray release in March.

To Sandip Ray, filmmaker and Ray’s son, however, none of this is surprising. After all, it was the Japanese film great Akira Kurosawa who’d said, “Not to have seen the cinema of Satyajit Ray means existing in the world without seeing the sun or the moon.”

Sitting in his Lake Temple Road residence in Kolkata, he recalled the role of a Japanese distributor, Toho-Towa Co. Ltd, founded in 1928 by film pioneer Nagamasa Kawakita, and said Kawakita’s wife, Kashiko Kawakita, was a Ray admirer.

“She was very close to our family and a die-hard Satyajit follower right from the start,” he said. When Ray first visited Japan, it was Kashiko who arranged a meeting between Ray and Kurosawa in 1966. “I think till the 80s, they distributed all of Baba’s films in Japan. The films must have done good business. Otherwise, why would she ask about new films every year?” said Sandip Ray.

The seven restored titles began their theatrical run on July 25 at Le Cinema Bunkamura in Tokyo. The retrospective was to run for three weeks, but a further week was added due to the demand. “The films were not only screened in Tokyo, but in cities like Hiroshima, Osaka, Kyoto, etc, covering 15-20 cinemas nationwide,” said Varsha Bansal, who helmed the restorations of the Ray classics produced by her grandfather, R D Bansal.

The screenings were paired with discussions and talks. If film researcher and producer Eri Morinaga spoke after ‘Mahanagar’, Asian cinema researcher Tamaki Matsuoka delivered a talk following a screening of ‘Jalsaghar’. Yuka Okuda, a Rabindrasangeet performer and Bengali language instructor, led a session after a ‘Charulata’ screening. “I offered some reflections on the impact of the Rabindrasangeet in the film... Some in the audience said they wanted to watch the film again. It made us realize all the more that Ray’s cinema is a deeply layered and magnificent creation,” Okuda told TOI.

A Tokyo theatre that took part in the retrospective

I have quite a few favourite places when it comes to holidays, but Japan tops the list, followed by England. My first solo trip was to Japan. I went to Hiroshima, Kyoto, Osaka and Tokyo. I didn’t know the language, but the trip turned out to be incredible. It’s a very safe country for solo female travellers, and I never felt unsafe or uncomfortable.

I met wonderful people, stayed in guest houses and hotels, and ate interesting food. People were helpful when I felt lost. It’s a country that’s super punctual, so if a train is late, they would apologize for the delay and give a valid reason. I met an Indian guy in Kyoto and we became good friends. He got me a thermos full of chai and a dabba of parathas.

I find the energy of London to be reminiscent of Mumbai. You can roam around alone, and I would go jogging to Hyde Park. In India, I love Kashmir and it is the wonderland of India. I remember waking up to a snow-clad vista in Gulmarg. I have never seen a more beautiful place.

I always have an itinerary in place when I’m travelling. I love eating, skiing, walking… it’s best to see a city on foot – just wear comfy shoes and clothes, and walk. That’s how I explored Paris.