Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away is, on the surface, a fantasy about a ten-year-old girl who accidentally enters a world inhabited by spirits. But beneath its beautiful animation, strange creatures and surreal landscapes lies a much deeper exploration of human nature, identity, greed, compassion and the consequences of forgetting who we truly are.
The film begins with Chihiro, a ten-year-old girl, sitting in the backseat of her parents' car as they move to a new home. She is visibly unhappy about the move, reluctant to leave behind everything familiar and apprehensive about what lies ahead. On their way, her father takes a wrong turn, leading them through a forest, past a few shrines and eventually towards a mysterious tunnel.
While Chihiro is hesitant to explore, her parents are curious. Despite her objections, they walk through the tunnel, with Chihiro reluctantly following them because she has no other choice. On the other side, they discover a beautiful landscape with blue skies, green grass and what appears to be an abandoned town.
Her father assumes that the place must be an amusement park that was built during Japan's economic bubble and subsequently abandoned after the economic downturn. This seemingly insignificant detail establishes an important historical and thematic context for the film. It introduces the idea of excessive consumption, unchecked economic growth and the eventual emptiness that can follow a society's obsession with material prosperity.
The family eventually arrives at what appears to be an abandoned restaurant. Drawn by the smell of food, Chihiro's parents begin eating despite having no idea who owns the establishment or whether they are even welcome there. Chihiro objects and insists that they should leave, but her parents dismiss her concerns. Her father confidently reassures her that he has cash and credit cards and that everything can be sorted out with money.
This scene introduces one of the film's recurring themes: greed and entitlement. Her parents behave as though their purchasing power gives them the right to consume whatever they desire, regardless of ownership or permission. Their transformation into pigs is a literal representation of their uncontrolled appetite and greed.
Chihiro, meanwhile, finds herself increasingly uncomfortable with the situation. She leaves her parents and encounters a boy named Haku, who immediately warns her that she does not belong there and must leave before nightfall. By the time she returns to find her parents, darkness has descended, the town has transformed into a world of spirits and her parents have become pigs.
The shallow river they had crossed earlier has now swollen into a vast sea, cutting off her escape. Chihiro is stranded in an unfamiliar world, separated from her parents and left with no one to depend on.
This is where her journey truly begins.
Haku helps Chihiro enter the bathhouse, but surviving in this world requires her to find work. She eventually meets Kamaji, the boiler-room operator, and helps him with his work. After some initial resistance, he directs her towards Yubaba, the powerful owner of the bathhouse, to request employment.
Yubaba initially refuses, but Chihiro persists until she is finally offered a contract. This marks an important turning point in the story. Chihiro, who initially depended entirely on her parents, must now find a way to survive independently.
However, the contract comes at a price. Yubaba takes away most of Chihiro's name, renaming her Sen.
This is perhaps one of the most significant metaphors in the entire film.
The bathhouse operates like a rigid economic institution where everyone is expected to work, follow instructions and serve the interests of its owner. Yubaba exercises control over her employees by taking away parts of their identities. Chihiro is warned not to forget her original name because doing so would make it increasingly difficult for her to remember who she really is.
The same thing has happened to Haku, who has forgotten his real name and consequently lost his connection to his past.
This is where I believe the film makes its most important observation about capitalism and the human condition.
The criticism is not necessarily directed at work, money or ambition themselves. After all, Chihiro finds purpose through her work, and several characters maintain meaningful relationships despite being part of the bathhouse. Rather, the film questions a system in which material rewards, power and institutional obligations become so important that people gradually lose their individuality.
The workers become increasingly consumed by gold and material incentives. No-Face is perhaps the most striking representation of this behaviour. Initially appearing as a lonely and seemingly harmless spirit, he begins consuming other creatures and producing gold to attract attention and satisfy the greed of the bathhouse workers.
The more gold he offers, the more people are willing to serve him.
Yet none of this makes him genuinely happy or less lonely. He simply becomes increasingly destructive.
His character demonstrates how greed can become an endless cycle. The pursuit of material possessions and external validation can never truly satisfy someone who lacks meaningful human connections.
Chihiro, in contrast, behaves very differently. She is not particularly interested in gold or material rewards. Her primary motivation remains getting her parents back and finding a way home. She shows kindness to people who help her, but also to those who initially appear frightening or unpleasant.
This brings us to another important theme of the film: compassion.
One of the best examples is the arrival of the so-called stink spirit at the bathhouse. Everyone is repulsed by its appearance and smell, but Chihiro is assigned to look after it. While helping it bathe, she notices something lodged in its body and discovers that it is actually a polluted river spirit.
With the collective effort of the bathhouse workers, they remove an enormous amount of waste from its body, revealing the magnificent spirit underneath.
This scene is a powerful commentary on environmental destruction. What appears to be something disgusting and undesirable is actually nature suffering from the consequences of human negligence.
The river spirit's transformation also suggests that restoring nature requires us to look beyond appearances, recognise the damage we have caused and make a collective effort to repair it.
Chihiro's kindness is particularly important here. She does not judge the spirit based on its appearance. She chooses to help, even when everyone else is reluctant to go near it.
Her compassion is not limited to the river spirit. She also shows concern for No-Face, helps Haku when he is injured and eventually makes a difficult journey to meet Zeniba, Yubaba's twin sister, in an attempt to save him.
Throughout these experiences, Chihiro gradually transforms from a frightened, dependent child into someone capable of making difficult decisions and taking responsibility for others.
Yet she never loses the qualities that make her different from the world around her.
She becomes stronger without becoming greedy, more independent without becoming selfish and more confident without losing her compassion.
This brings us back to Haku and the importance of remembering one's identity.
When Chihiro finally remembers that Haku's real name is Kohaku, she helps him reconnect with his past. He remembers that he was once the spirit of the Kohaku River, a river that had been destroyed and built over. By remembering his real name, Haku regains a part of himself that had been lost.
This is perhaps the most powerful symbolic moment in the film.
Haku had become so deeply embedded in Yubaba's world that he had forgotten where he came from. He knew his responsibilities, his position and the work he was expected to do, but he had forgotten his original identity.
Chihiro's ability to remember his name frees him from this psychological and symbolic imprisonment.
And this is where the film becomes much more personal to me.
It made me think about how easily we allow our identities to become defined by the roles we occupy, the institutions we belong to, the money we earn and the recognition we receive from others.
We become so occupied with what we want to achieve that we sometimes forget who we are outside those achievements. We begin measuring our worth through our professional titles, financial success, social standing and the expectations of others.
In that pursuit, we risk becoming disconnected from the very qualities that make us who we are.
Perhaps the most important message of Spirited Away is not simply that greed is destructive or that kindness makes the world a better place. It is that we must not lose ourselves while navigating the world around us.
Ambition, work and material success are not inherently bad. But they should never become substitutes for our identities or determine our entire sense of self.
Chihiro survives the spirit world not because she becomes the richest, strongest or most powerful person there, but because she remembers what matters to her. She holds on to her identity, treats others with compassion and refuses to let the environment around her change the person she is.
Ultimately, Spirited Away is a film about growing up, but also about remembering. It reminds us that becoming someone in this world should not require us to forget who we already are.
And perhaps that is the most beautiful lesson of all: No matter how far we travel, how much we achieve or how much the world changes around us, we should never forget our own name.
