It really is hard to get past the raccoon testicles.

For all that Pom Poko is a moving, poignant, inventive and silly ecological fable, there's no escaping the fact that raccoon testicles are the most striking imagery viewers will come away from this movie with. Granted, in Japanese folklore the testicles of the native raccoon-dog are magical and play a central role in the mythology, so as far as faithful adherence to the source material goes, director Isao Takahata is to be commended. That doesn't change the fact that watching raccoons stretch their scrotal sacks (euphemistically referred to as "pouches" in the Disney dub) into bridges, rugs, war-clubs and giant lumpy things with which to crush humans with goes way beyond surreal. It's as if Plastic Man or Reed Richards only had their distinctive super-powers concentrated in one anatomical area. Even though there's little in the way of sexuality involved with these magical transformations, parents tempted to buy Pom Poko for their kids because of the irresistibly cute cover art should be aware awkward questions are bound to come up. That, and the fact that there is a significant amount of abrupt and graphic violence in the film as well.

"Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play?" As far a ecological fables go — and Studio Ghibli has produced it's share over the years — Pom Poko stands well on it's own, although it pales in comparison to Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind and Princess Mononoke in terms of spectacle and story. In many ways, though, Pom Poko is much more intimate and immediate than either of those, because despite the fantastic elements, the film wrestles with issues of the here and now. Because of the overwhelming need for affordable housing, developers begin buying up wilderness and old farmland to build huge housing tracts. As these Godzilla-sized suburbs devour more and more of the raccoon-dogs' habitat, food becomes scarce and the different tribes of animals begin to fight over the remaining resources. Before long, the warring camps recognize humans as the true enemy, and unite in order to bring development to a halt.

Their efforts meet with limited success. Direct sabotage is dismissed as simple bad luck, delaying construction only briefly. When the raccoon-dogs turn to their more mystical abilities — shape change and illusion — the effects are more dramatic, and many workers abandon the project for fear of offending the spirits of the land. To the raccoon-dogs' dismay, however, they soon learn that for every construction worker they frighten off, there are two more eager for work.

At times, it's hard to believe that the same director who gave the world the gut-wrenching Grave of the Fireflies is the man behind Pom Poko, since the latter has a carefree spirit and embraces absurdity and silliness without shame, whereas the former was relentlessly bleak. There's a darker current running underneath the surface of Pom Poko, however, and it surfaces just enough to remind viewers that while Takahata may be sentimental and nostalgic, he is by no means saccharine or trite. Depending on the situation and their emotional state, the raccoon-dogs shift among three basic appearances — a realistic form, an anthropomorphic form and a simple, silly cartoon form. When a raccoon-dog dies — and many of them do during their conflict with man — it's almost always depicted in the realistic form, which can be quite jarring when juxtaposed against the freewheeling, cartoonish aspects of the film.

While the Disney English dub lacks the broad star-power from previous Ghibli releases, it is excellent overall, stumbling only occasionally when poem or song poses an awkward challenge to translation. The animation is top-notch, on par with the best of Ghibli's work, with the showpiece illusion parade a particular highlight. The story itself tends to be a bit more episodic than is warranted, though, and the omnipresent narrator grows monotonous at times. Even so, Pom Poko is worth recommending if only because Takahata has the confidence to resist offering simple answers to complex problems.

DVDetails

The special features for Pom Poko are an improvement over those found on the companion release, My Neighbors the Yamadas, but only just. On the main disc, Japanese trailers and TV spots can be found in addition to the movie itself, which is always entertaining. The second disc contains the original storyboards, which are set up in a slideshow format with the movie soundtrack. Unlike all the other Ghibli releases put out by Disney, Pom Poko is missing the "behind the microphone" featurette — understandable from Disney's standpoint, I suppose, considering the lack of marketable stars doing voice work. But it is inexcusable that there is no introduction to Takahata or his work here. With the rights to Grave of the Fireflies tied up with a competitor, Pom Poko is one of the remaining Studio Ghibli showpieces of the famed director. Compared to the earlier DVD releases of colleague Hayao Miyazaki's movies, which contained making-of documentaries and various other features that introduced viewers to the director, the lack of effort here is borderline criminal. Takahata is, after all, co-founder of Studio Ghibli and the man who gave Miyazaki some of his first jobs. One would think that somewhere there exists a "Meet Takahata" broadcast from Japanese television that could be, at the very least, subtitled for inclusion here.

Pom Poko isn't the best film Studio Ghibli's ever put out, and it isn't even the best film Takahata's done. But it is well-crafted and entertaining, funny and even poignant at times. It's a relevant movie, and likely to remain so for years to come, as the issues it brings to light are the kind that quietly fade into the background. It's certainly not for the Rugrats set, but those old enough — and mature enough — to appreciate the ecological fable for what it is will find it a rewarding experience. Raccoon testicles and all.

The Movie Itself: 8 out of 10

The DVD Features: 4 out of 10