The movie tells the story of a bamboo cutter who finds a miniature girl and takes her home to his wife so they can bring her up as their own daughter. The girl grows rapidly into an exquisite young lady. The mysterious young princess enthralls all who encounter her, but ultimately she must confront her fate, the punishment for her crime.
Flurries of expressiveness swirl into subtle shifts in style; it's these fiercely elemental illustrations of one girl's forbearance, defiance and longing which mark Takahata's The Tale of The Princess Kaguya as Studio Ghibli's fourth masterpiece.
Takahata brings his own feminist spin to Kaguya's coming of age, showing how this child of nature is repeatedly kept from happiness by the forces of patriarchy.
There exists a compelling experiential satisfaction of the closure of a mythical character journey full of ebbs and flows, complexities and emotional introspection, all expressed fully in the compassionate drawings of director Isao Takahata.
What makes "Princess Kaguya" stick in emotional terms? Its depiction of an extraordinary girl, learning for herself that a life without real joy and spontaneity is only a shadow of a life.
In an era where anime films seem to blend into each other aesthetically, Takahata's impressions seems marvelously alive - its modesty in images makes them feel as if they're being created before our very eyes.