Films like Penny Marshall's Big (1988) and Mark Water's Freaky Friday (2003)--that similarly sit themselves atop a character's sudden and inexplicable leap in years--tend to recommend youth as the more ideal state, one the aged could learn from if they'd only recall the imaginative powers and relative behavioral flexibility that characterized their own adolescence. In Miyazaki's film, the audience is instead reminded that the beautiful and vigorous youth so often idolized in pop culture lacks the weight of wisdom-honed wit and the well-marinated pluck earned through persistence in the face of great physical difficulty.

When the curse thrown at the heroine of Howl's Moving Castle transforms Sofî from a teenager into a ninety-year-old adult, it fails to rid her of that determination which made her such a productive hat decorator. Sofî is, admittedly, shocked by her radical makeover, but she complains very little about the creaking back which slows her movements, and the wrinkles now adorning her once supple, if plain, face. She steadily climbs tall hills, busily cleans an extremely messy, multistory residence, and manages to fall in love. Sofî's physical condition also cultivates both humor and altruism in one who has hitherto been a morose loner--particularly when compared with her chatty, materialistic friends and mother. She quickly learns to make jokes about her new body, and, having attached herself to a small handful of magical creatures, devotes her long, slow hours to caring for them.

Deprived of any chance at achieving personal loveliness in the traditional sense, our heroine's eyes turn outwards, heightening her awareness of the beauty surrounding her. There is much for Sofî (and us) to gape at in this film, courtesy of Miyazaki's team of skilled painters and animators--incredibly variegated cloudscapes, mountain-filled vistas, and long fields filled with fantastically colored flowers. And, as is the case in so many anime films, Howl's Moving Castle also contains an exquisite male lead on whom the heroine's gaze can rest, a tall, lithe, blonde young man with magnificent eyes and fair complexion whose presence melts women young and old. Even this aesthetic staple is challenged, however, when the hair color of the beautiful wizard is magically altered--a superficial transformation that, upon shattering Hauru's fragile self-confidence, dangerously compromises his magical powers. Hauru's response to his sudden change in appearance underscores the wisdom of Sofî's more judicious reaction to a much more drastic transformation, and deftly underscores the grave futility of youthful vanity.

The film concludes with Haura learning to accept his altered appearance, and Sofî regaining her youthful vigor and form while retaining her grey hair and more serious demeanor, an ending that suggests a melding of extremes is best. We should all be (determined to be) so lucky.