THE CAT RETURNS. Slightly Below Ghibli’s Usual Standard

At one point in my review of Whisper of the Heart, I spent quite a bit of time on the intriguing character of Baron Humbert von Gikkingen—a cat with a mysterious, penetrating gaze. The heroine of that anime drew inspiration for her writing by observing this remarkable gentleman, creating stories about his romances and adventures, describing thrilling journeys full of surprises in strange, fantastical worlds. What made him truly fascinating, however, was that the Baron was, in reality… just a sculpture, coming to life only in young Shizuku’s imagination. He was one of the film’s most important elements because, despite his seemingly minor role, he captured attention, sparked curiosity, and added genuine charm to the Ghibli work. So I was pleasantly surprised while watching The Cat Returns when a familiar figure suddenly appeared on screen. The cat was back, and this time he took center stage!

For teenage Haru, the next day begins fairly ordinarily. As usual, she drags herself reluctantly out of bed, hurriedly eats breakfast, and ends up running late for class. On her way home with a friend, they notice a cat carrying a neatly wrapped package in its mouth. In the middle of the street, the bundle falls to the ground, and the cat tries to pick it up, ignoring an approaching truck. Without hesitation, Haru rushes to save the cat, rescuing it at the last moment from losing one of its seven lives. To her surprise, she is not met with a frightened glance but with words of gratitude spoken in a human voice—and from that moment, a cascade of extraordinary events is set in motion.

It turns out that Haru has helped none other than the prince of the Cat Kingdom! That evening, she is visited by a royal entourage, promising her a life of luxury and indulgence as a reward for her heroic act. Unfortunately, she soon discovers that the cats’ idea of luxury and pleasure differs considerably from humans’—as she finds out through a series of rather unpleasant incidents the following day. Still, since the cats are determined to ensure Haru’s happiness, they invite her to their extraordinary kingdom. The problem is, they intend to make her… the prince’s fiancée! Haru must quickly find a way out of this predicament, with help from none other than the Baron himself.

As the plot description makes clear, the story isn’t particularly original. Cinema has often explored the motif of an ordinary protagonist who, through a heroic act, becomes entangled in a dangerous adventure. Yet in The Cat Returns, this feels less problematic because the creators have added several fresh and inventive touches. The story manages to surprise the audience in small, enjoyable ways, with elements rarely seen before. One such element is, of course, the return of the Baron. Naturally, he loses some of his cinematic magic when he starts walking, talking, and taking on a central role—but with such major changes, this was inevitable.

Fortunately, the director treats the feline gentleman with subtlety, preserving his unique and extraordinary character. He remains mysterious and surprising, exuding romance and true class. It is a pity, however, that the other characters are mostly standard and less compelling, though they can still inspire the viewer’s sympathy. A standout is the hilariously fat cat Muta, who, despite his grumpiness, manages to bring a smile to the audience. Other secondary characters, such as the eccentric Cat King or one of his minions, have a similar charm. Haru herself, perhaps intentionally, comes across as an ordinary, unremarkable girl, which makes her instantly likable.

What really bothers me, however, is the film’s relative shallowness. Events unfold quickly, without much emotional depth or grandeur—the very qualities Ghibli has accustomed its fans to. Moreover, it is hard to detect any real atmosphere, which isn’t surprising given that the film is just over an hour long, with the action racing ahead relentlessly, never giving the viewer a moment to breathe. In some films, this can work, but here it undermines the magical ambiance that—even in extreme doses—is still visible in weaker Ghibli works like Pom Poko.

The Cat Returns redeems itself through solid craftsmanship: beautiful, colorful, and highly detailed animation, excellent music, and smooth editing. But can we expect anything less from the creators of Princess Mononoke?

Despite its flaws, it is worth spending time with Hiroyuki Morita’s film. Beyond the visually appealing presentation, it features the brilliant character of the Baron, plenty of genuinely fun and clever humor, and several original ideas. The movie is enjoyable to watch, though I was struck by how different it is from its predecessors: fast-paced, (perhaps too) shallow, and lacking the emotional weight that characterized earlier titles. I recommend it, but only if you are prepared for something slightly below Ghibli’s usual standard—though still worth seeing.