“Who cares if we don’t see the sun
shine ever again? I want you more than any blue sky. The weather can go crazy.”
Weathering
With You (2019)1
Tokyo in the rain! Surely there could be no more appropriate cover photo for a post about Weathering With You. |
It came as no surprise at all that I
absolutely loved Weathering With You.2 After all, Makoto
Shinkai’s previous film, Your Name,3 is my very favourite film
ever, and basically all of the elements that secured it that lofty and coveted
title were also present in Weathering With You. Adorable, wholesome plotline
with heroes I could really root for, tick. Sweet-spot magical realism, pushing
just far enough beyond the possible for the thing to properly feel like an
escape, tick. Neat, engaging scripting that felt beautifully well tied
together, tick. A good blend of funny bits, dramatic bits, slow bits to build
the plot, and heartbreaking-yet-uplifting emotional bits that reach right down
into your soul to stir it properly, tick. Animation so breathtakingly beautiful
that I could wish, contra Paul, that my whole body really were an eye,
in order to be able to drink in each frame more fully, tick. Well, except for
the fact that were that so, I wouldn’t be able to hear Radwimps’ gorgeous,
soaring soundtrack, or the way that the sound marries up with the visuals so
perfectly: there’s a moment, for instance, when a huge, heavy rainfall suddenly
erupts out of what had been a clear sky, and it’s so beautifully done that you
can practically feel the water hit the ground. Tick. It hasn’t usurped Your
Name for the top spot on my list, but only because I think Your Name’s
plot is cleverer – pulls you through more twists and turns that make you marvel
at it, kind of thing. That said, the two plots have a great deal in common
(spoilers for both films ahead, proceed at your own risk). Teenage love story
between a city kid and a country kid; magical realism, with the magical
elements being explained through things related to the Shinto religion; random
episode at the beginning of the film that’s very significant but only explained
later; climax involving the boy doing something a bit crazy in order to save
the girl from some kind of natural-disaster-related threat.
Although what that
natural-disaster-related threat actually means for the girl is pretty different
in each case. In Your Name, the threat is a meteorite that’s going to
destroy our heroine’s entire town, and so the way she has to be saved is by all
the people being evacuated from the impact zone. In Weathering With You,
by contrast, our heroine Hina, as a so-called ‘weather maiden’ with
supernatural influence over the weather, knows that she has to offer herself as
a sacrifice in order to stop the freak rainstorms that have been plaguing Tokyo
of late. When protagonist Hodaka follows her up into the clouds and brings her
back to earth, the rain starts again. And it never stops. It rains so much that
three years later, much of Tokyo is underwater. Hina doesn’t need to be saved from
the natural disaster; by being saved, she causes it. Her life is bought at
the cost of great swathes of the city lost to the sea.
It wasn’t the ending I was
expecting. I suppose I was anticipating that there would turn out to be a way
whereby Hina could survive and the weather could be put back to normal,
because, you know, that’s the kind of thing that tends to happen at the end of
wholesome animated films. But no – the decision was made and it came at its
price. I liked that. It forced us to ask whether it was worth it.
There was a point earlier in the
film where Hodaka’s employer Mr. Suga, not really believing in the
weather-maiden story, made an offhand remark to the effect that one death for
the sake of fixing the crazy weather seemed like a fair enough deal. It was
clear, though, that that remark came not from a place of thoughtful
rationality, but one of bitterness: Mr. Suga is still reeling from the
premature death of his wife and resenting that he is permitted only limited
contact with their young daughter, and what he seems to really be saying
is something like, well, at least that death would do some good; why
should this weather-maiden person live while my beloved does not? One can
sympathise on those grounds, but not agree. Another perspective is offered by a
sweet old lady that Hodaka and Hina helped out earlier in the film. After Tokyo
begins to be lost to the rising waters, she takes an equanimous approach: sure,
her old home is gone, but centuries ago, this entire area used to be
underwater. The freak rainstorms are just the sea claiming back what belongs to
it, the planet shifting through its normal, natural cycles. Hodaka repeats this
idea to himself as he goes to meet Hina after three years apart, testing it,
trying to work out whether he thinks it accounts for what has happened. He sees
Hina and concludes not. The neverending rain isn’t just nature doing what
nature does; he and Hina made a choice. They decided that it wasn’t acceptable
for her to be offered as a sacrifice. They decided that if the rain never
stopped, that was a price worth paying for her life. It was they who, to that
end, sentenced whole districts of Tokyo to be slowly swallowed up by the
ever-increasing flood – and Hodaka is glad, very glad indeed, that they did.
I, of course, already know what it’s like for the rain to never stop, because I live in Britain. (That’s a joke. The rain does stop sometimes.) |
Well, that was how I understood it,
anyway. I think of Weathering With You as a bold, uplifting affirmation
of the uniquely great value of human life. Which is a bit of a contrary idea,
actually, when held against much of fashionable modern thought – particularly if
you take it specifically as affirming the uniquely great value of human life at
the expense of disorder in the natural world.
I don’t know whether you’ve noticed
this, but there’s a strand of thinking within the modern sustainability
movement that sees population control as a necessary part of the
solution. Some people call this view neo-Malthusianism, after a Georgian
clergyman called Thomas Malthus who wrote an essay about population in which he
posited that, whereas population growth is exponential, growth in food
production is linear. Consequently, he argued, if left unchecked, the human
population will end up increasing faster than food production can be ramped up
to sustain it, leading to catastrophes of famine, disease, and war. A better
solution, Malthus reasoned, is just to get people not to produce as many new
humans in the first place.4 His ideas have experienced something of
a revival of late, though with a new climate-emergency sort of flavour.
Remember the Duke and Duchess of Sussex (or whichever titles they’re going by
now they’ve ‘stepped back’) saying that they won’t have more than two children,
in the interests of the environment?5 Or have you come across the
BirthStrike movement, with people trying to bring about large-scale changes to
How Things Are Done by refusing to have children until such changes are made?6
Or what about Population Matters, which claims Sir David Attenborough as its
patron, and advocates very straightforwardly for having fewer children, and also
achieving certain changes to get people in the developing world to have fewer
children?7
I’m with Population Matters on the
benefits of women’s education and proper access to contraception, but I approve
of those things because, you know, because they give women greater freedom and access
to a better quality of life, not simply because they tend to result in there
being fewer humans in the world than there would otherwise have been.
Neo-Malthusianism comes way too close, in my view, to seeing humans as a kind
of harmful infestation in what would otherwise be a nice, orderly, balanced
world. And the focus on the developing world strikes me as particularly yikes:
like, sorry, all you folks living in poverty in Africa and Asia and Latin
America, but there are just too bloody many of you already and we don’t want
any more of you. No, worse than that: there are just too bloody many of you
already and if you cause your children to be too numerous, you render them guilty of destroying the planet merely by existing. Like an infestation.
Shudder.
The trouble with seeing the problem
as being that there are Simply Too Many Humans, is that that’s such a dehumanising
position to take. It views humans not as individuals, not as people, not as
precious lives of uniquely great value, but as a mere statistic. Humanity as nothing
more than a great ever-consuming Blob that needs to be cut down to size. The
right to exist is the most fundamental individual human right there is, and yet
somebody here is necessarily being stripped of that right. But having
said that, who? Because even the most strident neo-Malthusian is also, whoops,
still a human; still another sliver of colour pushing the population bar higher
up the chart. Surely she’ll be compelled either to determinedly focus the blame
on other people – those peasants in the developing world being the obvious
target8 – or to end up deeply insecure about her own right to
exist?
There is, I think, a pretty
interesting – though not so interesting as troubling – intersection where these
kinds of ideas collide with Christian doctrine. We all know that God made the
world and it was very good; and then our first ancestors, daft things that they
were, went and disobeyed him, and thenceforth everything was messed up. So humans
are the problem, right? The world was ‘very good’ before our sinfulness sent it
all to hell in a handcart, and it follows that it would have been better off
without us. Turns out we are a kind of harmful infestation here.
Except that that’s not actually true
at all. For starters, the world wasn’t ‘very good’ until it had human beings in
it: everything else in creation was just ‘good’.9 Categorically,
then, the world would not be better off without us – not in the eyes of
God, the only one whose opinions are actually completely true and indeed the
measure for truth. Also, I know I’ve written about this before, but the
pre-Fall world wasn’t perfect. The potential for sin was there, and that made
it flawed. And so this whole mess that we’re living in now isn’t the result of
everything having gone off the rails; it’s part of the necessary plot to bring
us to the truly perfect happy ending.10
So humans are the one vital
component that elevates God’s creation from ‘good’ to ‘very good’; and humans, moreover,
are the one thing he specifically redeems for participation in the new
creation. Jesus died to save people – people, not ecosystems. And beyond that,
he died to save individuals. He knows each of his sheep by name; he
indwells each personally by his Spirit. Humanity is no statistic in God’s eyes,
no Blob. It’s no infestation of an otherwise nice, orderly, balanced world. On
the contrary, it’s the one bit of the world that God cares enough about to have
sacrificed his dearly beloved Son to the worse fate that exists on its behalf.
He places that kind of uniquely great value on the life of each individual he
has chosen to be blameless before him.
So was Hodaka right? Was saving Hina
worth it – worth the freak weather, the sunken city, the disordering of the
natural world? If we’re going by God’s standards, then yes, yes it was. Indeed,
when, one day, God completes the rescue from sin and death that he has begun in
us, he’ll do a lot worse than flood Tokyo: he’ll set the whole world on fire.
He’ll bring the present cosmos to an end, and establish a new heavens and new
earth in its place – and this so that we whom he has chosen might survive,
might live with him forever and ever. Humanity is no infestation in creation.
Humanity is, in no insignificant sense, the point of creation. We’re
kind of what creation is all about.
This isn’t an argument against
trying to make the best use of the resources we have; I’m all for doing our
best to live sustainably and keep the natural environment healthy. It is,
however, an argument against seeing Too Many Humans as an inherent
problem.11 Humans aren’t just some population that needs to be
controlled for the sake of maintaining balance in the world; they’re
individuals of uniquely great value. They’re no infestation in creation; they’re
the only thing that makes it ‘very good’.
Footnotes
1 The exact form of the quotation may
not be reliable, as I am relying on random people on Reddit for it, but that
was the gist.
2 Here’s a trailer to give you a
flavour: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q6iK6DjV_iE.
I think it might still be in UK cinemas if you fancy it – definitely worth the
big screen experience.
3 For that one, you can have Radwimps’
music video for the theme song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a2GujJZfXpg.
I could seriously cry from how beautiful this animation is.
4 Thanks, Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malthusianism.
5 This should jog your memory if not:
https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-7301321/Prince-Harry-interviewed-Dr-Jane-Goodall-Meghans-edition-British-Vogue.html.
6 I should add that they say they ‘disagree
with focussing on the topic of population before equality based system change
in regards to tackling the environmental crisis’: https://www.birthstrikeforfuture.com/.
7 Have a click around, see what you
think: https://populationmatters.org/.
8 I feel I should clarify that I’m
using the word ‘peasants’ ironically there.
9 See for yourself: https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=gen+1&version=ESVUK.
10 See ‘Better, Not Back’, under
November of last year in my blog archive. Or, you know, don’t, if you have
stuff to be getting on with.
11 There’s also, on a natural,
practical level, the fact that humans are also the only beings in the material
universe who have yet proved any good at coming up with better ways to use
resources so that they can suffice for larger populations. Deprive the world of
more humans and you deprive it of more ingenuity. But that wasn’t my big point
today, and I didn’t want to confuse things by putting it in the main body.
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