Hayao Miyazaki’s 10th feature-length anime, Ponyo, is a thing of seemingly unending delight. Pitched at a younger viewing age than preceding films such as Spirited Away (2001) and Howl’s Moving Castle (2004), and featuring a much more colourful, simple aesthetic, it stands out vividly from the rest of his films. There is profound creativity behind this fantastical coastal adventure. It comes overflowing with joy.

Brunhilde, a goldfish-like creature and daughter of the wizard Fujimoto, escapes the confines of her ocean home and heads for the surface world. There she meets a young boy named Sosuke, who names her Ponyo. Recaptured by her father and forced to make a second escape, Ponyo’s actions the second time send a magical cataclysm across the sea and threatens to unbalance all of creation.

There is a large-scale epic fantasy underneath Ponyo, involving underwater sorcerers, rapidly evolving magical sea life, and even gods. Like several of Miyazaki’s other films there is a strong folkloric quality, and a rich intertextual sense of the fantastic. Andersen’s The Little Mermaid is an obvious touchstone. To the film’s credit, much of this fantasy content is backgrounded by the characters, and exists to support and add detail to a very charming, simple fairy tale. It is a perfect combination: easy for younger viewers to follow, but richly detailed to keep more mature members of the audience engaged.

Ponyo herself is one of Miyazaki’s finest creations. She is boundlessly enthusiastic, yet bluntly stubborn. Her lack of familiarity with the human world is cause for constant surprise and excitement. Her vocal excitement over the existence of ham is perennially quotable.

All of the hallmarks of Miyazaki’s films are present. It is not simply the food, which turns up with astonishing regularity. There is a powerful but understated ecological concern running throughout the film, with the Japanese coastal waterways awash with all kinds of garbage, pollutants, and signs of human activity. Like My Neighbor Totoro (1988) before it, the film lacks a traditional villain. Fujimoto certainly adopts the role of antagonist from time to time, but his actions step from fatherly concern rather than anything cruel or malevolent.

The film is wonderfully performed, with a cast including Tomoko Yamaguchi, former baseball player Kazushige Nagashima, George Tokoro, and Kazuko Yoshiyuki (Kikujiro). Many anime enthusiasts would not dream of watching the film with anything other than its Japanese soundtrack, but for those watching in English there is an excellent dub including such talent as Liam Neeson, Cate Blanchett, Noah Cyrus, Matt Damon, Tina Fey, Betty White, and Lily Tomlin.

There are some elements to a Miyazaki film that almost do not need to be commented upon, and one of those is Joe Hisaishi’s musical score. It is, as always, close to faultless. The melodies are emotive, engaging, and remarkably catchy. It is ultimately futile to name any individual artist to be the world’s best in their chosen field, but were one to pick the greatest living film composer it is likely Hisaishi would be an immediate nominee.

There is a problem in writing about Hayao Miyazaki’s best works, and that is that his films are so deftly and so beautifully composed that one winds up stringing together superlatives like they are out of fashion. He deserves the praise: talent like his is so utterly rare, and utterly precious.