I would say a pretty defining sentiment of the 2010s when it comes to work is this idea of hustle culture. You should always have something going on, always be working, always have a little side thing bringing in some money. This definitely manifested into encouraging people to start their own businesses, which worked great with the advent of sites like Etsy and the like which expressly let you do so, but it can even be applied to just things like making videos on YouTube, or doing art commissions.
Many “entrepreneurs” encouraged others to turn their hobbies into work, because you already have the skills, why not make some money out of it? But that kind of sucks, right? Sometimes turning the thing you love to do most in the world into work can work out, but it isn’t always the way to go about things. And somehow, 35 years ago, the Studio Ghibli classic Kiki’s Delivery Service captured this exact feeling, all through the lens of a young witch trying to start her own magical business.
To give a quick summary of the film to those that have never seen it (a point you should rectify immediately, seriously, stop reading this, go watch it, come back, and then you can skip this paragraph), Kiki’s Delivery Service follows the titular character, a teenage girl who must set out from her home as all witches must do around her age. She flies off on her broom, and eventually settles down in a beautiful seaside town, quite the idyllic locale. Soon enough, she finds this quaint little bakery, where she starts to live, and sets up her goods delivery service.
It’s easily one of the quieter Hayao Miyazaki films, there’s no exciting, spirit-filled bath houses, no hunky magical man whisking you away to his roving castle while a war is going on, but that’s what makes it special. Kiki’s Delivery Service finds beauty in the mundane, in finding yourself at a very vulnerable age, making lifelong connections – you know, the usual kind of thing you do at 13. Still, as lovely a time as Kiki has to start, the thing that really elevates the film from something simply pleasant to an understated all-timer, is when she starts to experience burnout.
I’m sure burnout is a feeling most of you have experienced, that kind of exhaustion that comes when there’s too much of any one thing going on in your life, frequently caused by having too much work to do, or just doing too much work. Particularly in more vocational jobs, it can lead to questions of “what am I doing with my life” and “why did I think it would be a good idea to start a business where I draw people’s dogs wearing silly hats for not nearly enough money” (I admit that one might be a bit too specific, but you get it).
That’s exactly what Kiki goes through, though it’s presented as the age old classic artist’s block, something that can easily come from burnout. This artist block leads her to lose her magic powers, preventing her from being able to fly or understanding her talking black cat Jiji, unsurprisingly sending her into a depressive funk. We’ve all had those days where we’re just laying in bed because what else is there to do, right?
Kiki’s situation is quite literally one about falling out of love with your passions after they’ve turned into work, it’s not even really a metaphor, it’s just a textual thing. She’s unable to work because work is hard, but also because she loses that spark that drove her to her passions in the first place. It’s a relatable experience – I started writing about video games because I love them, but they’re also work now, and work is a bit rubbish sometimes, so I’ve had to rethink my relationship to games a touch so they don’t always feel like work.
That relatability is what makes Kiki’s Delivery Service so special, and helps it stand on its own feet, separate from the rest of Miyazaki’s works. It also just kind of shows that your feelings, your burnout, your artist’s block, is not a singular, unique feeling, it’s something that’s been happening for decades, and easily centuries before even Kiki was released. Kiki’s Delivery Service isn’t comforting because of how cute or aesthetic it is, it’s comforting because it understands what it’s like to be young and uncertain of your future. I just didn’t realise that it would manage to keep hitting three decades on.