Studio Ghibli films are loved the world over by kids and adults alike—and for very good reason. The animation, of course, is almost unparalleled with the rich and complex universes it creates, compelling viewers to hit pause in certain scenes to let their eyes travel over every inch of the screen and drink in the details.

Beyond the visuals, though, are the stories that speak to audiences of any age. Studio Ghibli productions are proof that animation is an effective storytelling medium that’s not just for kids. Under the direction and often written by the animation company’s co-founder Hayao Miyazaki, a Studio Ghibli story is never a simple, straightforward one; each has twists and turns that grip the imagination and speak to the heart, often mixing great adventures with quotidian scenes and quiet moments of reflection. While a younger audience may get pulled in by the animation, it’s the timeless and universal themes that keep the older ones watching.

To be honest, I’m envious of anyone who hasn’t had the chance to dive into Studio Ghibli’s magical world because of the thrill of discovery that awaits them. And while there’s no right or wrong way of getting started on this wondrous journey, but the following are my top five classics (in no particular order) that made me—and countless others—fall in love with Studio Ghibli.

Spirited Away

Early on in this Oscar-winning animation, Chihiro experiences every kid’s worst nightmare: being left alone in a strange world filled with supernatural creatures of every form, separated from her parents who had become strangers—pigs, to be exact—in front of her eyes.

But after the slight thread of menace that permeated the first third of the film, with viewers experiencing the bizarre rules and behaviors of the spirit world through a scared 10-year-old’s eyes, Spirited Away becomes a heartwarming story of self-reclamation—of Chihiro reclaiming her name and even a long-buried memory—and becoming braver in the process. With the help of a few strangers, she faces her fears and gets through each task every day. Her sense of self-preservation also never keeps her from doing the right thing, particularly empathizing with and showing kindness to those who, like her, stand on the fringe.

This story is seamlessly woven in with overarching themes of Japanese folklore, traditional culture, environmentalism, and the dangers of an increasingly consumerist culture. That Miyazaki was able to integrate all of these, in both subtle and overt ways, into the film’s hand-drawn animation makes Spirited Away all the more extraordinary, worthy of its status as an enduring worldwide favorite.

Princess Mononoke

Princess Mononoke’s sprawling story about the clash between man and nature and between tradition and modernity is a magnificent one, but as is custom with Studio Ghibli productions, no one side is depicted as a true villain. Each faction is motivated by what they think is best for them and those that they care for, and even so-called protagonists display moments of erring judgment.

Lady Eboshi leads and protects the tree-clearing firearm-manufacturing Tataraba village where social outcasts and lepers have found gainful employment. She has a worthy adversary in San, a girl raised by wolves who is fiercely protective of the forest and resentful of humans. Ashitaka, the last Emishi prince who has come from the east burdened by a curse that could eventually kill him, falls in love with San and wishes to protect her, yet he also understands Eboshi’s motivation. With each side’s goals at cross-purposes, the animal-god Great Forest Spirit gets harmed, resulting in the destruction of the land.

Calling this animated film “epic” is one of the few instances where the word is accurately used. Packed with breathtaking action—a couple of them surprisingly violent—and lush and fantastical depictions of nature, animals, and the supernatural beings living among them, Princess Mononoke is a masterpiece of its medium.

Kiki’s Delivery Service

Unlike in typical coming-of-age films, our eponymous character isn’t afflicted with teenage rebellion. The young witch Kiki grew up close to her parents who are supportive of her excitement over the prospect of finally becoming independent. To them, it’s just a part of life that must be welcomed and encouraged. And so at 13, Kiki finally decides it’s time to set off on her own. Together with her black cat and best friend Jiji, she gets aboard her flying broomstick on a moonlit night, sent off with love by the tight-knit community she leaves behind and in search of a new town to call home.

The world, of course, isn’t perfect. As much as there are kind folks willing to take a plucky young girl under their wing, there are also plenty of instances that would make an idealistic yet vulnerable teenager question herself and lose some of her passion, even her magic. Watching Kiki make her own way, first as a budding entrepreneur then through the cloud of immense self-doubt that besets her, feels like a sweet love letter to everyone’s inner teen. Kiki’s Delivery Service has been described as a metaphor for the millennial experience of toiling endlessly only to end up still facing an uncertain future. Finding out how Kiki gets her groove back—and becomes wiser and more self-assured in the process—could just be the cheering up burned-out adults need.

Howl’s Moving Castle

Howl’s Moving Castle has one of the more complicated plots in the Studio Ghibli oeuvre, involving warring kingdoms, sorcerers, shapeshifters, and long histories of schemes and paybacks. Perhaps because it’s based on a British novel of the same title (it isn’t faithful to its literary source, however) but the movie feels a little overwrought story-wise compared to the rest of the studio’s oeuvre.

Still, it’s worthy of a watch, if only for the titular castle alone: a lumbering, living piece of work, with moving parts fused together into a kinetic collage. Inside the castle live Howl, a shape-shifting sorcerer serving both sides of two warring kingdoms in an effort to minimize the bloodshed; the flame-like Calcifer to whom Howl’s life is bound; the sorcerer’s apprentice Markl; and Sophie, a young woman suffering from a curse inflicted by an old lady friend of Howl’s. Appearing as an aged woman, she offers to be the castle’s cleaning lady in order to get closer to the sorcerer and maybe find a way to be freed from the curse. With her, she brings Turniphead, a loyal scarecrow who has become enamored with her kindness.

Classic Miyazaki themes of pacifism and tradition vs. modernity are also depicted in the movie. But what immediately strikes the audience is how it champions older women, presenting them as complex beings whose actions can affect those around them. Particularly in Sophie’s case, old age is presented as marked by bravery, wisdom, kindness, and a compassion that’s powerful enough to bring about peace.

Porco Rosso

Who knew a film about a seaplane-flying bounty-hunting pig could perfectly illustrate how the protective masks we wear to hide a deeper pain can keep us from finding self-love and happiness?

Before Porco Rosso became the suave Porco Rosso, he was Marco, an Italian ex-fighter ace who had fought in World War I. A surprise attack on his squadron as they flew over the Adriatic Sea caused the young pilot to face a near-death experience, and upon waking up, he found himself the sole survivor of the ambush. Plagued by sadness and survivor’s guilt, he transformed into a pig, believing it’s his fate to spend life alone.

Despite this and his affiliation with pirates, Porco operates under a code of honor that believes in fairness and protecting the vulnerable. In fact, he’s loved and admired by those who can see the real Marco underneath the porcine appearance, even as he tries to keep everyone at arm’s length. One of them is Gina, the widow of his friend and squadron member who had died during the ambush. Gina has long dreamed of Marco falling in love with her but she understands that he’s not ready to receive love until he first learns to forgive and love himself—a lesson that’s as old as time.

My Neighbor Totoro

Studio Ghibli’s mascot naturally has to have its own film and the charming My Neighbor Totoro is its perfect vehicle. Featuring the energetic sisters Satsuki and Mei, it calls back to the innocence and ebullience of childhood, when a game of pretend was enough to banish fear and loneliness—especially when parents lovingly join in on it instead of minimizing or dismissing their children’s imagination.

With animism also at the heart of the film, the sisters’ game of make-believe further blurs fantasy and reality for the viewers. The watercolor palette used in the animation makes it believable that every tree and creature could come to life at any moment and present themselves as benign and benevolent beings on the lookout for both girls’ safety and well-being. Though not fraught with emotional drama, the absence of Satsuki and Mei’s mother isn’t diminished. It’s expressed in the girls’ and their father’s quiet anxiety over her health as she recuperates in a nearby hospital and in Mei running away in frustration when a planned visit to the hospital doesn’t push through, leading the whole neighborhood to search for her. With My Neighbor Totoro, Miyazaki shows the quiet complexities of childhood and the simple pleasures that make life worth living.

This was a 2021 client-commissioned blog post. All images are from Studio Ghibli.