Based on a popular series of Japanese children’s novels by Hiroko Reijo (Waka Okami wa Shōgakusei! – transl. The Young Innkeeper Is a Grade Schooler!), Okko’s Inn is an emotional, yet charming feature directed by Kitarō Kōsaka. Yokai, rural Japanese countryside, colourful characters, and mature themes set Okko’s Inn apart from other current family animated features, with the animated flare of an early Miyazaki production.
I’m Oriko, but please just call me Okko. I just moved to Harunoya!
Okko introduces herself to her new class
Right from the outset, our heroine Oriko “Okko” Seki, a young girl of 12, tragically loses her parents in a dramatic car accident, leaving Okko as the sole survivor. She is forced to live with her grandmother at the Hananoyu Inn, where she trains to become the new Junior Innkeeper, with a little help from her new resident spectral friends and, of course, a demon: but as the Hananoyu Inn insists it “rejects no one” don’t expect to see any Ghostbusters make a heroic cameo to chase those pesky ghosts out.
For the most part, Okko’s Inn is bubbly, charming, and highly energetic, with plenty of humour and memorable characters. It may hold a similar attraction as Ponyo in this regard, or perhaps 2018s Mirai, with somewhat of a slice-of-life appeal that creatively uses childhood imagination to introduce fantastical elements to tell a grounded, real world coming of age story in which Okko matures into her responsibilities as an innkeeper. Personally at the age of 12, I for one was still running around with lightsabers, reading comics, and playing video games; certainly not training to become a Junior Innkeeper at a hot spring inn.
However, as with many animated family films, it presents surprisingly potent themes that will likely make you wet around the eyes. It may strike audiences as odd that Okko seems so bubbly and excitable, considering both her parents were killed: bit of a tragic start, all things considered. Most characters tend to mope around and brood a bit before forging friendships to bring them out of their depression. But as the story progresses, it becomes clear that she is struggling to cope with the traumatic side effects of the accident, whether she’s sleep talking to her parents and questioning their mortal status, or having a panic attack in a car on a highway. On the other hand, there’s also the presence of her ghostly companions.
Urino: Pleased to meet you. Put ‘er there
Okko: Ugh! With booger hands? Gross!
Uribo: How could ANYONE be grossed out by ghost boogers?
Uribo introduces himself to Okko
It is explained to us that not only is she, like Cole Sears in The Sixth Sense, the only one who can “see dead people,” thanks to her near-death experience, but they will leave this plane of existence once she has achieved happiness. Typical ghosts. As she is a young child with an active imagination who has gone through a traumatic event, it is hinted that they might be imaginary, created perhaps to help her deal with the concept of death in a similar way as the Totoro spirit in My Neighbour Totoro. Building towards heartfelt, eye-watering moments in which she finally gives in to her grief, Okko’s Inn manages to present very real themes about mortality and grief from the perspective of a young child within a fast-paced coming of age narrative that still manages to be energetic and fun with ample laugh out loud moments, showing that while it is embedded in rich Japanese culture and folklore, it is able to tell a universal story we can all relate to.
In this sense it’s hard not to draw some comparisons to Studio Ghibli, especially given the director’s history as an animation director. Though besides Ghibli, you may appreciate Okko’s Inn if you’ve seen Mirai, which similarly uses the viewpoint of a young child protagonist as a way to create imaginative sequences and storytelling mechanics, adding fantasy elements that distort the grounded realistic world it resides within.
Similar to Miyazaki films, we are treated to strong female characters and soft natural landscapes that contrast against vibrant, energetic characters, though there is admittedly more energy and buzz about Kōsaka’s style in this regard, perhaps due to the nature of the source material. The visitors to the Hananoyu Inn serve an important narrative purpose for Okko, as they present her with opportunities to not only develop her skills as an innkeeper, but more importantly to develop into a character who can live up to the inn’s motto, learning to serve others with gratitude and empathy. In a way, each guest can be seen as a trial she must overcome, the last of which happens to be the hardest for her, and will result in her ghoulish comrades vanishing.
Besides friendly spirits, Okko’s Inn is full of unique characters that make good use of the inn setting, including a father and son who have similarly faced the loss of their mother, a recently dumped fortuneteller, and a family who share a closer connection to Okko’s story than she might be prepared for. While we’re used to ghosts haunting our screens with current on-going franchises like the Conjuring, Kitarō Kōsaka’s ghosts fall significantly on the other side of the ghostly spectrum, more akin to Casper than Samara (The Ring). Where other less-than-friendly spirits have a preference for obnoxious screaming and fiddling with expensive electronics, Suzuki steals food from guests, Uribo watches over Okko’s grandmother, Mineko, and Miyo doodles on people’s faces. As only Okko can see them, Hananoyu’s resident yokai provide much of the humour, provoking a few laughs thanks to their quirky, kawaii mannerisms, regardless of your preference for dub or sub.
They say Hananoyu Spring rejects no one. It welcomes and heals everyone!
Okko recites her grandmothers words, the motto of the Hananoyu Inn
The visuals boast smooth animation and an art style that reflects a family friendly tone, which is somehow not quite as exciting as the aforementioned Ponyo and Mirai. Regardless, the character designs are memorable, with director Kitarō Kōsaka having previously been credited as the character designer in the likes of Wind Rises (2013) and Master Keaton (1998). Glory Suiryo’s introduction as a mystic fortuneteller and fashion savvy shopaholic is one of the most memorable and visually expressive characters, while Frilly Pink’s eccentric design highlights her equally eccentric spoiled personality.
That being said, if Ponyo is remembered for it’s mouth watering ramen, Okko’s Inn will make you hungry for its hot spring pudding, which tantalisingly wobbles with an elegance that makes it look more delicious than any animated Crème caramel has any right to – much like Konata’s custard cornet (Lucky Star) or Spirited Away’s massive feasts. If you caught Okko’s Inn at the Prince Charles cinema, you’ll be thankful to be surrounded by an assortment of food places to satisfy your hunger.
Can you imagine the utter disgrace if one of our inns shut down!?
Frilly Pink
As much as the visuals are able to offer a tasty feast for the eyes in the form of anime food, Okko’s Inn is accompanied by a decent enough soundtrack to boot. It’s nothing too spectacular or memorable, however, although the use of traditional Japanese drums and flutes successfully provide a rural soundscape to compliment the setting, while some string and piano themes can at times relay a heavier tone, especially when Okko is forced to confront her emotional trauma.
But believe it or not, Okko’s Inn isn’t all gloom, even despite it’s tragic beginning. As such, to contrast against some of the more sombre arrangements, not only will you find more upbeat, playful tracks, there are also some J-Pop tunes for good measure, which heighten the sense of energy and charm of each scene. While “Rotenburo Pudding” sounds like it belongs in Pokémon Emerald’s soundtrack, a scene where Okko and Glory go on a shopping spree not only features some of the better animation in the film, but it’s also one of the most upbeat, fun moments, in part thanks to the fast paced J-Pop anthem that accompanies it – “Jinkan Bungee Jump!” You’re sure to find it hard not to bop along as they race around the shopping mall…
There’s something about current animated family films and their ability to tap into the wider emotional spectrum, to the extent that they’re often able to affect adult viewers as much as children. Or in some cases, even more so, thanks to some of the surprisingly mature themes and situations they tackle. If you’ve ever watched one of Miyazaki’s animated masterpieces – Totoro comes to mind – you’ll appreciate the sentiment behind this. They’re often thought provoking, presenting themes and imagery masked behind a family friendly narrative that allows them to be enjoyed by audiences of all ages. Okko’s Inn similarly strikes a surprising balance between being humorous with a family friendly charm, while also tackling some surprisingly real and mature themes.
It’s always refreshing to see an animated family film that doesn’t subject you to generic ‘let’s all be friends’ themes that plague American PG animated features, or feature repetitive songs that seem to get more airplay than they need to. Let alone the sing-along editions… Okko’s Inn presents relatable real life themes, with an upbeat, energetic narrative with equally vibrant characters, while the rural Japanese setting provides an alternative to current blockbusters.
