Last weekend I had the privilege to watch Makoto Shinkai’s latest movie, Weathering With You (天気の子), at the movie theatre. Ever since then I’ve been wondering a lot about one of the movie’s central themes: where do we, as humans and temporary guests to Planet Earth, fit into the greater picture of climate change?
One of the things I love most about Shinkai’s movies, aside from the beautiful animation, the innocent depiction of soulmate connections, and how music plays into the plot, is the way he weaves the supernatural and mystic aspects of the more mundane aspects of daily life.
I don’t want to spend much time addressing the similarities to Your Name (君の名は) and the question of whether Your Name is a better movie than Weathering, which many others have already done.
That being said, the first time I saw Weathering I must admit that, not knowing what to expect, I kept comparing the movie to Your Name. Mostly because I kept searching for that certain je ne sais quoi that Your Name so eloquently captured through its emotional poignancy.
What Weathering isn’t, is Your Name. Despite having an admittedly similar plot structure to Your Name — Tokyo playing a central role as its own entity, the supernatural playing an important role in driving the plot forward, and “boy rescues girl from the grasp of a doomed fate,” Weathering is still its own movie.
I realized this as I watched Weathering a second time, this time dubbed in English. Only then, was I able to sit back, relax, and enjoy Weathering for what it is and for what it isn’t.
What Weathering is, is a story with beautiful and captivating animation that explores our relationship as humans and guests to the Earth as its own entity playing out the same myths we humans play in our daily lives — as though Earth herself was dreaming herself into existence.
As the story unfolded to reveal a Tokyo summer experiencing unusual amounts of rain, I had a moment of déjà vu.
In 2017, Hurricane Harvey, did something rather unusual. Harvey sat on top of Houston and dumped a year’s worth of rain over a week’s period into the city and surrounding suburbs.
Depending on your location, you were either wet, your material possessions lost to the endless rain and the flooding that ensued, or fortunate enough like I was to be on high ground and dry — despite having a Bayou nearing capacity about 20 feet from my front door.
Just two years prior, in 2015, Houston experienced what was then labeled “a 100 year flood”. Unfortunately, Houston didn’t get the memo and we had another major flood the next year in 2016, and then again in 2017 with Hurricane Harvey. It was becoming clear that this so-called-100-year-flood-phenomenon was actually becoming the new normal.
Looking back, I wonder how many others in the audience experienced déjà vu. I wonder how many others in the audience relived memories of leaving their homes and physical possessions behind, unable to return to their homes six or even 18 months after Harvey.
Weathering forces us to ask ourselves what role we play in the grand scheme of things. Like the characters in the movie, we are faced with the reality of our changing climate exacerbated by the artificial world we have created.
The spiritual and supernatural motifs in Weathering also forced me to think of climate from the perspective of a dreaming Earth.
What is the soul of the Earth dreaming about?
What could possibly have compelled Earth to burn millions of hectares in Australia, the Amazon, California? To flood Puerto Rico, Florida, Houston in 2017 in one of the costliest Hurricane seasons ever recorded?
What is the greater story being told and where do we, as temporary but pesky guests, fall into this story Pacha Mama is telling?
Since ancient times, humans have sought to understand and control the unpredictability of the weather and the larger patterns that make up the Earth’s climate. While in ancient Rome, Jupiter was attributed to ruling the sky, thunderstorms, and the weather, in 2020 science has become the godless god that explains why the weather is changing so dramatically.
I wonder what would happen if we, like Hina, took our place once again as the bridge between the Earth and the Sky.
Would our prayers right the changing climate?
Would we be able to dream Earth’s dream and perhaps understand the world inside the clouds that Shinkai so beautifully depicts in Weathering?
I look forward to answering these and many other questions as I continue moving through my own path, exploring my inner world and it’s relationship to Earth’s very own dream.
