ชายมหัศจรรย์ผู้ทำให้โลกรู้จักจิบลิ

by Steve Alpert, เพียงขวัญ ลักษณ์แสงวิไล (Translator)

ประสบการณ์คลุกวงในที่หาได้ยากจากหนึ่งในสตูดิโอแอนิเมชันที่โด่งดังที่สุดแห่งหนึ่งของโลก สตีฟ อัลเพิร์ต ผู้บริหารชาวอเมริกันที่ดำรงตำแหน่งหัวหน้าฝ่ายธุรกิจต่างประเทศของสตูดิโอจิบลิเป็นเวลาสิบห้าปีและมีบทบาทสำคัญในช่วงที่ภาพยนตร์ของสตูดิโอเริ่มขยายตลาดออกไปสู่สายตาชาวโลก

จะบอกเล่าเรื่องราวเบื้องลึกเบื้องหลังการทำงานของสตูดิโอ
ตั้งแต่กระบวนการผลิตภาพยนตร์แอนิเมชันที่ใส่ใจในทุกรายละเอียด
การพากย์ภาพยนตร์ภาษาญี่ปุ่นเป็นภาษาต่างประเทศ
การเจรจากับคู่ค้าและตัวแทนที่สำคัญยิ่งอย่างดิสนีย์
รวมถึงประสบการณ์การทำงานกับมืออาชีพผู้เป็นอัจฉริยะในวงการอย่าง ฮายาโอะ มิยาซากิ ผู้อำนวยการสร้างคู่บุญของเขา
โทชิโอะ ซูซูกิ และประธานบริษัทโทคุมะ กรุ๊ป บริษัทแม่ในเวลานั้นของสตูดิโอจิบลิ
ยาสุโยชิ โทคุมะ ผู้เรียกได้ว่าเป็นชายที่ทรงอิทธิพลมากที่สุดคนหนึ่งในประเทศญี่ปุ่นยุคนั้นรวมถึงคนอื่น ๆ ที่สะท้อนหลักการทำงานของจิบลิที่ทำให้สตูดิโอมีชื่อเสียงในระดับโลกมาจนถึงทุกวันนี้

ด้วยน้ำเสียงที่เป็นกันเอง ไม่อ้อมค้อม และมีอารมณ์ขัน
อัตชีวประวัติแนวธุรกิจเล่มนี้เป็นอีกหนึ่งเล่มที่พลาดไม่ได้ด้วยประการทั้งปวงสำหรับทั้งแฟนของสตูดิโอจิบลิ
ผู้ที่สนใจในวัฒนธรรมและการทำงานของประเทศญี่ปุ่น และใครก็ตามที่เคย (หรือไม่เคย) พบว่าตัวเองเป็น ไกจิน หรือชาวต่างชาติเพียงคนเดียวในที่ทำงาน

Genres: Nonfiction, Japan, Biography, Memoir, Art, Japanese Literature, Film

528 pages, Paperback

Published March 1, 2023

Reviews

[Eule Luftschloss · Rating 1 out of 5]

trigger warning
mention of rape and assault, racism, mention of war things and natural desasters

Steve Alpert was hired by the concern Studio Ghibli was part of for a long time to help with international marketing. They needed a person that speaks English and Japanese and knows how foreigners tick.

Two things intrigued me about this:
1. I am always interested in accounts of how someone went to another country and tried to live in a culture extremely different to their own, especially if a western person goes to Asia. I've greatly enjoyed Amélie Nothombs books for example.
2. I love all the Studio Ghibli movies I know. I don't know all of them, but am planning to change that. Getting some background information on the production of stories I know is always fun.

Before I start with my review, I want to say that the publisher told me the version I read is uncorrected, so I am just going to assume that still some editing will take place.
Because as it is, this one felt very unedited. In the beginning, the author jumps from one anecdote to another without any kind of structure. This only ends as he starts to describe the usual process of making a movie, followed by recollections of how he travelled, sometimes with Hayao Miyasaki, most often not, to make deals with international companies about film-rights and to recieve awards, first for Princess Mononoke and then for Spirited Away.
To my confusion, this section was followed by and account on how Princess Mononoke was synchronised for the English version, which chronologically makes no sense at all.

I can't say how much of this will be an issue in the final version of the book.

Then let me get to the main part why I feel iffy about this book.
"This was well before Harvey's "Me Too" troubles, and at the time there was no hint at all that the things he's been accused of were taking place."
Harvey Weinstein has been mentioned a couple of times and I was wondering why there was no comment at all about how a disgusting person that guy is. Finally, I saw this comment - this was all. No, I didn't expect a longwinded explanation or statement in a book that was about something else than the me too movement or Hollywood in general, but making this the only reference to what happened is... whoa. No.
Only a guy could say he saw nothing. And since Harvey Weinstein has been convicted, the phrasing is offensive to all persons who have been assaulted. I am lucky enough to have only slightly be molested in my past, and even to me this feels outrageous.
It's a delicate topic. I hope that this is something an editor will work on with Mr. Alpert before publishing. Because after reading this, had the circumstances been different and had I not been very concentrated on reading my arcs, I'd have quit at that point and no, this will get no recommendation from me.

I've learned some things about how Studio Ghibli operates and some nice anecdotes about the making of Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away.
Would I read this again? No.
Would I read anything else by this author? No.

I recieved a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

[Joel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Essential info for Ghibli buffs. Interesting info for anyone intrigued by hearing the perspective of an American white collar exec working in a Japanese company.

Also occasionally very specific details about what beautiful women were wearing (or weren’t) at various film festivals and at various beaches and on various secluded balconies, but I’m not sure who that’s for.

[Andi · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm fortunate to know friends who enjoy Miyazaki's work, have visited Japan, and in return have gotten me to appreciate his stories. Some of my favorites are Porco Rosso, Howl's Moving Castle, and the famous Spirited Away.

I was absolutely delighted to see this up for grabs on NetGalley, and was intrigued to see 15 years through the eyes of an American who worked for Miyazaki's company.

Oh boy. This book is a treat, a real treat. The most featured films are Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away, since they were the ones that fell within the time period of when the author was working for the company. Here and there he handles mishaps and or issues with Castle in the Sky and Kiki's Delivery Service.

I was also intrigued to see how Weinstien was involved in this. Not surprised that he was screaming, demanding things, and overall creating an absolute mess of Princess Mononoke behind the scenes. As well as Disney! Disney didn't come out of this smelling like a rosebud, either. If anything this book made me apprehensive on how they treat things established with a commercial enterprise behind it.

I knock it down because I felt that the narrative of the book could be a bit tighter and that the book just ends rather abruptly. I kind of wanted to know why he left the company and how things were going to transpire after the mess with Spirited Away.

Nevertheless, it is a great, fantastic read about Ghibli, animation, movie business, and Japanese life and customs.

[Gabriela Silva · Rating 3 out of 5]

A bit of a disappointment, but one of my own making: I thought this would be about the translation of Ghibli movies, or the memoir of an in-house translator, but it's actually a memoir of a businessman. Honestly, I'm not sure I'd recommend it to anyone but harcore Ghibli fans, who are interested not only in the movies but also the people behind the studio.

That, and people who love Princess Mononoke, as this is the film that this book most dwells on.

Other than that, it's an easy, mostly enjoyable read, though the writing isn't exactly lively or full of character. The subtitles are often not very imaginative – the narrator is remembering a beautiful sunrise? The subtitle becomes "Tequila Sunrise"!

The most uncomfortable thing, however, is the constant current of light sexism that runs through the book. I lost track of the number of times Mr. Alpert talks of "nubile young women" and of "vast expanses of exposed flesh", etc. I know that he's talking of women in the entertainment business, but surely there are ways of describing these women without sounding like he's fighting a hard-on?

In the same way, there's a strange… respect expressed towards Harvey Weinstein, all throughout this book. Unlike others, I don't expect Mr. Albert knew about what Weinstein was getting up to in private (how could he, all the way in a small office in Japan?), but for him to not even express any kind of condemnation is a bit unpardonable. And again, he comes off as really respecting Weinstein's business acumen or something. Reading these sections was unsettling.

Also unsettling, perhaps more? The suggestion that Neil Gaiman "became" big thanks to Weinstein's intervention. Just a suggestion, but weirdly chilling nevertheless.

2.5 stars if I could. Interesting but problematic.

[Effy · Rating 1 out of 5]

This book takes an admiring and reverent look at what it was like for Alpert to work for Studio Ghibli. There are moments of this book that were beautiful and it was interesting at times to peak behind the curtain... unfortunately, I also found this book quite problematic.

I noted at least 9 instances within this book where Alpert shared racist commentary, perpetuated damaging stereotypes, and was blatantly racist. He also made objectifying comments about women and promoted toxic masculinity. It is for these reasons that this book can not be rated higher than a 1 star and I do not encourage readers to pick up this book.

[Anya · Rating 2 out of 5]

I did enjoy the parts about what it is like to work in Japan as a gaijin and the insights into the industry we're fascinating. I'm a huge studio Ghibli fan and the author captured the processes well for people who don't work in the industry.
However I didn't enjoy (as I can also see in some other reviews) the part about Harvey Weinstein. I understand that this is written from the author's perspective, but it might be better for the book itself to leave it out entirely.

Thanks Netgalley for providing me with an eARC.

[Alex Sarll]

A fascinating, funny memoir from the only gaijin at Ghibli, centred on the period in which Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away made the studio's anime a mainstream success in the West. It's sometimes hard to judge when you see a book stripped of context, but this somehow doesn't feel like it's a big release, which is a shame because it really ought to be. Adult Ghibli fan, interested in the behind the scenes gossip? You'll love this; it's shockingly indiscreet, without ever feeling merely mean, and it comes as a genuine surprise on the few occasions when names are omitted to protect the guilty, because of how much is elsewhere said outright. Equally, there are bits that are very nearly as adorable as Ghibli's films, like the ongoing love-in between the Pixar and Ghibli animators, or the French family lucky enough to get a Christmas Eve visit (complete with drawings of their favourite Ghibli characters) from Miyazaki. Just generally interested in the mechanics of cinema, particularly animation? I learned all sorts of stuff about how dialogue for cartoons is recorded, how translations and licensing between territories work – and also, which is of course far more entertaining reading, how not to do it. Or do you just fancy a sitcom starring the affably cantankerous Miyazaki; his ludicrous, self-important, shadily connected yet somehow very effective big boss Tokuma; and the intermediary Suzuki, who somehow gets the pair of them working in tandem to create magic – all while the narrator tags along behind, baffled? Sample, and it gets far sillier than this: "Every time Miyazaki conceived a possible ending for his film, he would seek out Suzuki to get his reaction. If Suzuki approved right away, Miyazaki would discard the idea and begin again." Granted, at times it's just horrifying (among the few things more fucked-up than Western corporate culture is Japanese corporate culture), and often it's nerve-wracking, but a lot of it's hilarious, especially given the author just about manages never to get fired or cause an international incident, and the films are all successes. True, at times it feels like it could have done with an edit – was it really anthropologists rather than archaeologists excavating Edo-era teacups on a building site? And like many media memoirs in which the narrator plays the wide-eyed ingénue, there's occasionally that niggling sense – hang on, you'd been at Disney a while before this Ghibli gig, your wife is Japanese, surely you can't have been quite this entertainingly unfamiliar with quite this many things? But these are minor quibbles when a book is stuffed with quite so many gems.

(Netgalley ARC)

[Justin · Rating 4 out of 5]

***I was granted an ARC of this via Netgalley from the publisher.***

Studio Ghibli is a world-renowned animation studio that produces quality content. They are known for hit movies like Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away, the latter of which won an Academy Award. In the book, Sharing a House with the Never-Ending Man: 15 Years at Studio Ghilbi, Steve Alpert describes his experience working for the company. As the only foreigner at the company hired to get Ghilbi's movies distributed abroad, the reader gets an inside look at what working at the company was like. From getting used to the way the Japanese conduct business vs the West, wrangling with distributors over proposed changes to the movie and hilarious situations from the clash of cultures, Alpert tells an engrossing story of how the studio toom Princess Mononoke from storyboard to homes all over the world and the other highlights and struggles of the studio along the way If you are a fan of Studio Ghibli or looking for an interesting memoir to read this is one for you.

Rating: 4.5/5 stars. Would recommend to a friend.

[Vanessa Glau · Rating 3 out of 5]

Pros:
- a dream for Studio Ghibli fans!
- good for anyone interested in Japanese business culture
- lots of stories about the film industry in the 90s-early 2000s
- people like Miyazaki & Suzuki are portrayed in a fun & inspiring way
- light read

Cons:
- several sexist asides about scantily clad women
- big focus on fundamentally Japanese customs & mindset, implying they can never be understood by foreigners
- stays on the surface about many things without digging deeper

[Jake McAtee · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fascinating. Steve was kind enough to chat with me about the book here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast...

[Caroline · Rating 3 out of 5]

Thanks to NetGalley for providing me with a copy in return for an honest review.

This is a truly fascinating book and one I would recommend for anyone interested in either Japan or the film industry. Alpert has a knack for anecdotes and the book was better written, linguistically, than I thought it would be being a business memoir. There was a great mix of behind the scenes drama and general information about the animation industry that was told in an interesting and easy to understand way for people outside the field. It's also probably one of the best looks at what Japanese work culture is actually like (for both Japanese and foreigners) and a must read for anyone thinking about working in Japan in any capacity.

However, there were some downsides that prevented me from giving this four stars. First, most of Alpert's stories are very good, but sometimes they veer off onto tangents or just end without a clear reason or punchline to the story. Also, while not often, he would sometimes drop down sentences that were so unnecessary that I had to stop reading to figure out why the information was even there. This was for things like randomly giving the recipe for a mojito or long descriptions of women (only women) who weren't even part of the story but who he really needed the reader to know how beautiful they were.

Then there was one line regarding the Harvey Weinstein business. I fee like someone must have told Alpert that since he talks about working with Weinstein (it would have been unavoidable to mention him since he ran Miramax at the time Princess Mononoke was released) that he must address the crimes he committed. I think Alpert would have been better off saying nothing about it since he retired years before everything about Weinstein came to light, instead of just casually dropping in "this was before the me too allegations" and then moving immediately on.

The word "allegations" in a book being published after Weinstein has already been found guilty really threw me and it unfortunately colored all of the stories that involved Miramax later on - many of which mentioned incredibly unhappy Miramax employees. So why mention this at all if not to condemn what Weinstein did? Why casually give the impression that you don't believe his accusers but then also later give the impression that Weinstein was a nightmare to work with? Alpert himself didn't seem to care much for Weinstein, so why not just condemn him in accordance with what a jury of his peers already found and move on?

This was one of my two major problems with the book, which is deeply unfortunate because it was literally a single throw-away sentence that should have been caught in editing.

The other problem I had, and which I am still really confused by is where was Isao Takahata during the 15 years this book spans? He is very rarely (and only in passing) mentioned throughout the book. He is the 4th founding member of Studio Ghibli, was responsible for some of their biggest films (Grave of the Fireflies, Pom Poko), and was notoriously difficult to work with. There is no way, being the head of international sales and press for so many years, that Alpert would never have worked with him. However, to read the book you would come away with the impression that Miyazaki wrote and directed every film Ghibli has ever made. Takahata was such a major part of the studio until his death that this would be like writing a book about The Beatles and pretending the entire time that there were only three members.

I suppose that I'll never get an answer about this, but it was definitely the most glaring issue the book has. If there had been a few stories were Takahata was involved or an explanation of why he wasn't written about, I would have given this memoir four stars.

Overall though, I really enjoyed this book and will be buying a physical copy for my collection. It is a must read for any Studio Ghibli fan.

[fonz · Rating 2 out of 5]

Sharing a House..., es el relato de Steve Alpert el único no-japonés en el estudio Ghibli, contratado para vender los derechos de las películas en el extranjero, cuya estancia en el estudio coincidió con la producción de los grandes éxitos de la animación japonesa, La princesa Mononoke y El viaje de Chihiro.

Como otros relatos de memorias en primera persona sobre cultura popular que he leido últimamente, se trata de un anecdotario personal de nula estructura y necesitado de una buena labor de edición. Además es un relato que se ocupa principalmente de los intereses del autor, en este caso el negocio de vender los derechos de Ghibli en el extranjero y la traducción de las películas. El texto está salpicado de abundantes anécdotas y observaciones sobre el peculiar carácter japonés a la hora de trabajar, negociar y viajar, las negociaciones con Disney y Miramax, empresas que salen muy mal paradas o las dificultosas traducciones de las películas bregando con el estulto personal de Miramax. También hay anécdotas sobre sus viajes con la plana mayor de Ghibli, la recogida de premios en Berlín o Los Ángeles y hasta el funeral del presidente del conglomerado mediático que albergaba a Ghibli, que la verdad es que, aunque tiene sus puntillos graciosos, es puro relleno.

Bueeeno, ¿y Miyazaki qué? Pues poca cosa porque este libro va de Alpert, no de Miyazaki, si quieres saber de éste último con más profundidad tendrás que mirar en otra parte. Se le retrata como un señor genial en lo artístico, por supuesto, pero aparte de sus reacciones impredecibles aunque graciosas en algún caso, se evidencia que Alpert, o le ha conocido poco, o lo poco que le ha conocido no le ha entendido por eso de la cerrazón japonesa ante el gaijin, o que el propio Miyazaki dejaba ver de sí mismo lo que le daba la gana ante quien le daba la gana. La cantidad de palabras dedicadas a la visión artística, a las inquietudes, a lo que quiere comunicar, a lo que busca haciendo películas, es muy escasa. Apenas se habla de "El viaje de Chihiro", las vicisitudes de producción, el enfoque artístico, nada... De "La princesa Mononoke" sabremos algo más gracias a que Alpert se involucró en el proceso de localización para el mercado norteamericano, y, no tan curiosamente, el mejor análisis de la película lo ofrece un técnico de sonido durante el proceso de doblaje, análisis que deja flipao al propio Alpert, no les digo más, el nivelón. Incluso el sistema general de trabajo de Miyazaki en Ghibli se despacha en un par de páginas, ya digo que es mucho más interesante la cruel visión que Alpert ofrece de Disney y Miramax que la de Ghibli, que acaban convertidos en unos duendecillos geniales que viven en Japón. Al principio la cosa es tolerable gracias a varias observaciones interesantes, aunque en algún caso erróneas (sí, sí, los japoneses esperan a que se ponga en rojo para cruzar aunque no venga nadie, díselo a los simpáticos conductores que se saltan los pasos de cebra sin dudar ni un segundo) sobre el carácter japonés, pero va degenerando en el último tercio con largas descripciones de menús de restaurantes franceses, señores y señoras en bolas en las terrazas de hoteles de Cannes, y venga descripciones de hoteles y garitos diversos y paja y más paja inútil que he acabado por leer en diagonal ya totalmente desinteresado.

[Dominic · Rating 4 out of 5]

During the past few years, I’ve become a fan of Studio Ghibli’s animated movies. I recently decided to learn more about the company and the people behind the films. I’ve read Susan Napier’s Miyazakiworld, which is more of an intellectual biography of Ghibli founder Hayao Miyazaki. Steve Alpert’s Sharing a House with the Never-Ending Man is a peek into the corporate side of the studio, something which doesn’t get as much attention from scholars and fans.

During the 1990s and early 2000s, Alpert worked for Studio Ghibli’s parent company, Tokuma Shoten, and handled foreign distribution for Ghibli’s films. This meant negotiating with Disney and other Hollywood executives for rights to distribute the films to American audiences. It also sometimes meant working with Hayao Miyazaki on English-language translations of the scripts, planning Miyazaki’s overseas trips, and even attending award ceremonies on behalf of Ghibli. Alpert shares some amusing anecdotes about Miyazaki that both confirm is curmudgeonly personality and his eclectic brilliance.

During his time with Tokuma, Alpert was an American living in Japan (a “gaijin“), so he’s well positioned to translate his experiences in Japan Inc for Western audiences. The book focuses on Alpert’s time at Ghibli, but it’s just as much about Japan’s corporate culture and the movie business. Alpert includes interesting insights, such as how Japanese business negotiations differ from American ones. While he’s clearly respectful of Japanese culture and lived in the country for decades, he’s also enough of an outsider to point out the humor in certain intercultural miscommunications.

Readers looking for a complete history of Studio Ghibli would probably be better off with Napier’s book; Alpert’s memoir only focuses on Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away. Fortunately, Alpert is a gifted storyteller, making the book a quick and enjoyable read. His anecdotes are often hilarious, sometimes insightful, and always entertaining.

[I received a copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review]

[Niklas Pivic · Rating 3 out of 5]

Note: this is an abridged version of the review that I've published here.

This is not an autobiography. Steve Alpert has produced a collection of anecdotes both of his time at Studio Ghibli—ostensibly one of the most successful animation-film studios—and of his gaijin life in Japan.

The first third of the book is being transported into Japan with all of its quirks and weirdness, at least, for myself.

Many years ago when I was still a student in Japan, I was out drinking with a Japanese friend in a backstreet section of Osaka’s Dotonbori entertainment district. It was late, maybe 2 am, and we were stumbling around looking for a taxi, having had a lot to drink in the bars and clubs called “snacks” that my friend often frequented. We came to a very narrow street, so narrow you could have stretched out a leg and reached the other side in a single step. The street had a pedestrian traffic light. The light was red. The streets were completely and totally deserted except for the two of us. Having lived for years in New York I instinctively moved to cross. My friend reached out his arm and prevented me.

“Red light,” he said.

“Oh come on,” I said. “It’s completely deserted. No cars are coming. No one else is around. Why would we let a dumb, inanimate machine tell us if it’s safe to cross?

“Arupaato-san, of course I know it is safe to cross. But I have the inner strength to stand here and wait for the green signal. That is the problem with you gaijin. You are weak. You lack the discipline to stand here and wait for the green light.

It was an argument that was hard to refute, from the Japanese perspective anyway. We gaijin don’t work on Saturdays. We might do overtime once in a while, but not as a regular thing, and we expect to get paid extra for it. We don’t share desks at work and expect to have a whole desk all to ourselves. We complain if the offices we work in are more crowded than the legal limits imposed by the municipal fire department. We don’t think smoking should be allowed in the office. We don’t think women with the same job description as men should automatically be required to make tea (coffee), wear uniforms when men doing the same job don’t, or neaten up everyone’s desk at the end of the day. We sometimes allow the people who work for us to tell us that we’re wrong and we even get angry when they fail to advise us that the truck they see roaring down the road, which we haven’t noticed, is about to flatten us.

Not only don’t gaijin do the many basic things that every Japanese company worker understands, is expected to do, and expects others to do, but we’re not even aware of most of them.

Another feature of Japanese meetings that has always puzzled me is that once a person begins to talk, no matter what he/ she has to say, the floor is his/hers for as long as he/she thinks he/she needs to say it. Even when the person is saying something completely and wildly off topic, overlong, or embarrassingly inaccurate, no one ever intercedes, politely or otherwise, to end or limit the speech. The person just keeps going on until he/she is done.

Alpert helps out with bringing Ghibli to the masses, which is no small feat, especially where the English-speaking markets are involved. As such, Disney enters, and Ghibli tries to work with them.

The film [Princess Mononoke] did prove too edgy for the Walt Disney Company to release it under its own name. Which is why Princess Mononoke was eventually released by Disney’s new subsidiary, Miramax.

Alpert creates an interesting image when discussing the voice-overs for the English-language version of Princess Mononoke, the film that brought Ghibli into the western-mainstream eye.

After putting up some numbers, which always sounded more impressive expressed in dollars or euros because most people couldn’t do the math in their heads, I would launch into the report on the casting of the US version of Princess Mononoke.

The cast list changed weekly and Harvey Weinstein rarely distinguished between wished for and confirmed. Leonardo DiCaprio agreed to play Ashitaka. Robin Williams is going to perform Jigo Bo. Juliet Binoche will be Lady Eboshi. Cameron Diaz will be San. Meryl Streep is going to do Moro.

The audience was impressed and didn’t even seem to notice or mind that actors who had committed one month before would then be out in the next. I was on the verge of discovering one of Tokumashacho’s own secrets: for some audiences, if you’re entertaining enough, it doesn’t really matter that what you are saying isn’t factually accurate or strictly true. A whiff of truthiness will suffice.

I’ll wager that Alpert didn’t foresee how much work he was in for, perhaps especially in trying to keep tabs on how translations and sounds were handled by Disney.

Many of the words you choose are wrong, like in the film Sophie’s Choice when Meryl Streep’s character misidentifies a seersucker suit as a cocksucker suit or like President Clinton’s Polish translator getting the wrong word for “delighted.”

When I was asked to start translating Ghibli’s films into English, I wanted to do better than that, and I was immodest enough to think that I could. As Groucho Marx once said, you should never criticize a person’s work until you’ve walked a mile in his shoes. If he gets mad, you’ll be far away and you’ll have his shoes.

The image I now have of Hayao Miyazaki, the top head of Ghibli, is that he is an artist whose will decides how everybody else works; that is, if he isn’t persuaded to do something differently.

There will be things that just can’t be translated. The Japanese film is called Mononoke Hime. The English title is Princess Mononoke. The translator (me) has left the two-word title 50% untranslated. When I first heard the title of the film the word mononoke was completely new to me. This is exactly the kind of word that Hayao Miyazaki likes to use in his titles. It is a word that most Japanese rarely hear or see in print or can even reliably recall the meaning of unless they stop and think really hard about it. It is a word that no two people will define or explain in the same way.

The dictionary is no help. It provides things like specter, wraith, or supernatural being, but everyone I ask says this isn’t it exactly. Any attempt to further explain it takes paragraphs. Japanese is full of words like this. So I decided to just leave it. I assumed that by the time the film came out in English, someone cleverer than me would have come up with a good word (or words) for it.

In the nearly twenty-plus years since the film came out, no one has come up with anything.

Rule 4—Don’t take anything for granted. In the film Spirited Away is a scene where it’s reported that the character Haku has stolen the character Zeniba’s seal. The Disney writers working on the English-language screenplay of the film contacted us urgently because they were puzzled by this.

In Japan, a seal (an emblem used as a means of authentication) is a very important thing. Americans routinely affix their signatures to checks, credit card slips, and legal documents, but in Japan everyone uses a seal for this purpose. For legal documents and such, a Japanese person takes out his/her seal, presses it into a pad of red ink, and then stamps it onto the relevant document.

The Disney writers wanted to know why, if Haku had stolen Zeniba’s seal (semi-aquatic marine mammal), the seal never appeared in any subsequent scene in the film.

When it comes to foreign cultures, you just never know what other people know and what they don’t.

Rule 5—Review everything. When we got back the first screenplay for Castle in the Sky from Disney to review, we checked the dialogue over and over again, but we didn’t think to check the characters’ names. It was only later when we began to get samples of recorded dialogue that we noticed that some of the characters had odd names.

Wishing to impart to his film a slightly international flavor, Hayao Miyazaki had given two of the characters French names, Charles and Henri. These names pronounced and written in Japanese come out as Sharuru and Anri.

Disney’s translator, who was a third-generation Japanese-American and had never lived in Japan, and who also didn’t believe in asking questions, had decided that the names were probably Chinese. So despite Disney’s frequent complaint that the names in Ghibli’s films were too exotic and hard to pronounce for an American audience, Disney ended up with characters in its version of Castle in the Sky named An-Li and Shalulu when they could have had Henry and Charles.

Hayao Miyazaki’s way of making a film was particularly stressful, and that was exactly how he thought it should be. He would often say that a person only does his best work when faced with the real possibility of failure and its real consequences.

Several times after the completion of one of his films, Miyazaki would suggest that the studio be shut down and all the staff be fired. He thought this would give the animators a sense of the consequences of failure and make them better artists if and when they were rehired for the next film. No one was ever sure if he was just kidding.

It’s quite funny to see how Miyazaki didn’t care that much about how he was perceived in the public eye; I mean, he seems to be a person who lets his work speak for himself. That’s why pieces of this book are funny:

Most of the reporters in these interviews would ask exactly the same questions and expect to get individualized responses. In this respect Hayao Miyazaki is a reporter’s dream, since he almost never gave the same answer when asked exactly the same question.

For example:

Reporter: The main character of this film is a young woman. Do all your films have women or girls as the heroines?

Miyazaki 10:00: Yes.

Miyazaki 10:30: No.

Miyazaki 11:00: Half of my films have heroes and half of them have heroines. The split between males and females in the human race is about 50/50 so I think this percentage is about right.

Miyazaki 11:30: When I conceive a film I don’t really pay so much attention to whether the main character is male or female.

Miyazaki 12:00: I wanted to make a film for ten-year-old girls, so of course the main character had to be female.

Miyazaki 12:30: Women generally make better main characters so I always try to have the main character be female.

This paragraph made me retch, regarding Harvey Weinstein:

This was well before Harvey’s “Me Too” troubles, and at the time there was no hint at all that the things he’s been accused of were taking place. But there was a certain unique feel to paying a visit to Harvey Weinstein at the Peninsula Hotel in LA.

‘Troubles’. Yikes. The use of that word makes me wonder if Alpert would use it for similar types of people, like ‘The serial killer was jailed because of his troubles.’ I have a hard time with people who don’t directly point out problems as committed by the perpetrators rather than just existing in their sphere, like some kind of sprayed mist that’s appeared from somewhere.

There are a lot of details on minutiae that surrounded the process of not only translating Princess Mononoke but even stuff like ‘Flying abroad with the same 250 pounds of metal canisters was also challenging. Japan Airlines, a one-time coproducer of a Ghibli film, helped out by letting us hand-carry the prints.’

After a third of the book, I felt it becoming a bit tiresome and repetitive; thankfully, this stopped circa halfway into the book, where more details about the process of making Princess Mononoke into English were concerned; there are oodles of details on this, so if you’re not into the film business, Disney, Pixar, language, differences between Japanese and English, etc. you’ll likely quickly become bored.

There are a lot of instances where Alpert had to deal with Disney/Miramax where they try to get away with things:

As we watched the film in short sequences, first a minute or so of Laputa original Japanese and then the same minute or so of Castle in the Sky English, the changes that had been made were obvious to even the most casual observer, even from the very first seconds of the film.

The English version began with dialogue that was not on the original soundtrack. There were numerous added sound effects and more added dialogue. There was added music and added musical flourishes like drum rolls and gongs. MOJ and the lawyers watched the screen visibly aghast.

After sampling only several more sequences they put a stop to the demonstration. “I don’t know what to say,” MOJ said. “We have clearly made changes to the film. We’re going to have to make this right. We will make this right.” Then he turned to X and gave her the kind of verbal lashing that makes grown men cry.

After all, this book has style and some grace: Alpert enlightened me to matters of how the Japanese business world was and is (according to him) run. It’s a wild ride at times, and I laughed out loud a few times while reading this book. The book also provides insight into how Hayao Miyazaki makes film and works together with those around him.

If you’re into Ghibli, I’m quite sure that you’ll enjoy this. If you’re into more introspective views of how the film business works—as with David Lynch’s autobiography—that’s a different type of book.

[angelofmine1974]

No stars. DNF.

My review of this book can be found on my YouTube Vlog at:

https://youtu.be/NpW9sETsGRk

Enjoy!

[Vince Snow · Rating 2 out of 5]

Huh. Honestly the book wasn't that bad, two stars feels a bit harsh. I do wish it would have focused a bit more on the workings of Ghibli and the Ghibli movies than business deals and business travel.

The bad is that the author is really abrasive. In some parts he just adds drama where there doesn't need to be. An example is at Yasuyoshi Tokuma's funeral: there is a woman who breaks past the Japanese Prime Minister's bodyguards and starts saying something into the PM's ear and he looks at his bodyguards somewhat helplessly but then the scene ends. Honestly, I believe the scene didn't happen as was described or didn't happen at all. It was a weird interjection that had no follow-up, no relation to the rest of the story and was just grating. This was the smallest of Alpert's crimes. He made grating comments about various populations, engaged in some Harvey Weinstein apologetics, and made about a million pervy comments about various women he encountered. These all were entirely unnecessary to the story and had they been removed with nothing else changed about the book, I probably would have rated it 4 or 5 stars.

The good was any time he was talking about the Ghibli movies it was great. He spent the most time talking about Princess Mononoke and it was interesting to get behind the scenes information about the production of the film. I enjoyed hearing about Miyazaki's writing process and wished actually for a bit more Miyazaki features. For a book referring to sharing a house with the never ending man, Miyazaki wasn't nearly as heavily featured as you might believe.

Overall, I wouldn't recommend this book. I would say that the book has aged poorly, but it just came out in 2020. I would love it if he came out with a revised version that exchanged all of the bad with more about the actual movies and their production.

[Fila Trece (Liantener) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Si estás esperando mucha información y anécdotas sobre Hayao Miyazaki, como parece sugerir el título, este libro te decepcionará. Alpert era el encargado de la división de Estudio Ghibli que se creó para vender las películas en el extranjero, principalmente debido al éxito de "La Princesa Mononoke" en Japón.
Alpert cuenta principalmente sus experiencias como gaijin (extranjero) trabajando en una empresa japonesa, todas las diferencias de pensamiento y de hacer negocios que existe entre ellos y la gente de occidente, y todas las anécdotas curiosas que le sucedieron tratando de congeniar ambas culturas. Y algunas de esas anécdotas SI fueron con Miyazaki, pero no todas ni la mayoría.
A mi, que me llama mucho la atención la cultura japonesa, me pareció un libro muy interesante y divertido. Alpert toma con mucho humor sus experiencias, es muy buen narrador, y su estilo es directo y fácil de seguir.
Además de no girar en Miyazaki, el otro inconveniente es que hace mucho énfasis en sus experiencias con "La Princesa Mononoke" y "El Viaje de Chihiro", pero deja muy de lado el resto de las películas que Ghibli produjo o comercializó después. También, para mi gusto, dedica demasiado tiempo a hablar del dueño del corporativo al que Ghibli pertenece.
Lo disfruté bastante, y aprendí muchas cosas respecto del negocio de distribución de películas.

[Greg · Rating 4 out of 5]

Steve Alpert was the only non-Japanese executive at Studio Ghibli, working there for 15 years in charge of marketing Ghibli films outside Japan. This is his very enjoyable memoir of his time there, including his struggles to come to grips with doing business in a foreign culture, crossing the language barrier, and trying to protect the tiny studio's interests from the depredations of Hollywood giants and Asian pirates.

Alpert's respect and affection for his Ghibli colleagues shines throughout, especially his esteem for the legendary Ghibli director Hiyao Miyazaki. His descriptions of his struggles bringing films like Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away to global markets adds to one's understanding and appreciation of these film classics. This is a must-read for any fan of the Ghibli studio's work.

[Librarian Jessie (BibliophileRoses) · Rating 2 out of 5]

Honestly, the beginning of this novel was very strong. The idealism of working in Japan as a foreigner for one of the largest well-known anime film companies. However, I slowly found the writing to become dreary and difficult to continue (with parts included that probably weren’t necessarily required). Nonetheless, an interesting biography and perspective.

[Dustin Kochensparger · Rating 5 out of 5]

An excellent business book with some of the most practical information I've ever seen about what it's like to work with creatives, large mega-corps, and across the cultural divide. Easy to read and full of fascinating anecdotes, this is a must read for anyone in the creative industries who wants to get into the business side of things. Scenarios that take minutes to read represent years of experience I've had to learn the hard way. Overall a very entertaining read about a fascinating company and what it looks like to work in practice.

[Tim R · Rating 4 out of 5]

So entertaining — I laughed out loud dozens of times. Really enjoyed this.

[Richard Propes · Rating 3 out of 5]

Released just this past month by Stone Bridge Press, "Sharing a House with the Never-Ending Man: 15 Years at Studio Ghibli" recounts the interesting adventures of former Studio Ghibli senior executive Steve Alpert, the only Gaijin (foreigner) within the company's ranks and the man largely tasked with presenting Studio Ghibli forward into a world ready to receive its brilliance.

Less an autobiography than a detailed, precise collection of anecdotes chronicling Alpert's 15 years with Studio Ghibli and its former parent company Tokuma Shoten, "Sharing a House" is simultaneously an immersive and frustrating beast of a book as Alpert's recollection is strong and he literally fills each page to the brim with the most minute details of experiences ranging from everyday business dealings to Japanese culture to Harvey Weinstein to the remarkable awards frenzy experienced by the groundbreaking "Spirited Away" that largely turned Studio Ghibli into an international household name.

Frequently, however, that same strong recall works to Alpert's disadvantage as "Sharing a House" can become bogged down in mundane factoids that likely seemed interesting but will mean little except to those who are equally immersed in Japanese culture or even those who were actually there at the time. Furthermore, observations that there's a hint of unhealthy, if not downright toxic, masculinity are evident throughout "Sharing a House" appear to be credible as Alpert is prone to describe women in ways that at least hint of a subtle sexism. There are other stereotypes evident to a lesser degree, as well, and a tendency to generalize experiences that one might expect to be written in more depth given Alpert's 15 years with the company and extensive background working in Tokyo, Kyoto, and Taipei.

"Sharing a House" has a very structured sensibility within its writing. There's a literary reverence to the key figures, most notably Hayao Miyazaki himself who is never referred in any other way than "Hayao Miyazaki" even when within the same sentence more than once. It's unusual and, to be honest, more than a little exhausting to read. Alpert did the same with Harvey Weinstein, who seems to be re-introduced on more than one occasion and is treated with what feels like a reverence that feels more than a little undeserved given the extensive allegations and facts already presented. Alpert himself acknowledges that his relationship with Weinstein was pre-"Me Too," a reference that casts a shadow on much of the Weinstein material.

As one might expect, a good deal of "Sharing a House" deals with Miyazaki himself, though the book never really moves beyond a few character quirks and delves into the creative aura of an animation genius respected worldwide. I'm not sure we actually get to know Miyazaki that much better in "Sharing a House," though there's definite charm to be found in experiencing how Alpert himself experienced Miyazaki.

Alpert was a former Disney employee hired by Tokuma Shoten to handle Studio Ghibli's international marketing and, much more specifically, their relationship with Disney. This is, perhaps, where the book is most successful as it captures Disney's rather notorious hands-on approach to its properties and Studio Ghibli's fierce resistance to anything resembling editing or cutting or Americanizing of their films. Alpert's often humorous memories are a delight here and anyone who appreciates cinema history will find much to celebrate throughout these vividly brought to life tales.

Informative and engaging, "Sharing a House" is also surprisingly impersonal in tone and devoid of the kind of personal flavor that would allow one to easily feel connected to its material. Alpert barely hints at his past or anything outside of work while generally coming off as a quirky, befuddled chap who is also fluent in Japanese and Chinese and has used it to build a rather impressive career. While Miyazaki's quirks and those of Tokuma Shoten's upper leadership are interesting, those craving a deeper immersion inside Studio Ghibli and the actual creative process will likely find "Sharing a House" at least modestly disappointing as Alpert largely sticks to the business side of things and proves to be a rather observational narrator.

While "Sharing a House with the Never-Ending Man" may not be quite the awe-inspiring glimpse inside one of the world's most awe-inspiring animation houses that one might hope, it's still an impressively detailed and enjoyable insider's look at how business and creativity often collide and how those collisions are even more complicated by cultural conflicts and artistic integrity. For fans of Studio Ghibli and Hayao Miyazaki, "Sharing a House with the Never-Ending Man" offers enough depth and detail to make it a worthwhile read.

[Trigger Warning Database]

Trigger & Content Warnings

Rape mentioned
War themes

[Villanelle · Rating 5 out of 5]

As with any memoir, I see no point in critiquing the experiences or perspectives of this author. He doesn’t see the world the way I do, and that is my biggest motivator to read a memoir. I am not here to tell you that Mr Alpert’s opinions are good or bad.

As for the subject matter, I found it mostly intriguing and very insightful, if not a touch scattered. The first-hand account of the Studio Ghibli processes and the challenges of marketing to an international audience was enough to keep me engaged. The thoughtful descriptions of nuanced differences between cultures and languages were bonus offerings. Both my interest in filmmaking and my desire to spend more time in Japan were renewed by reading this account.

[max · Rating 1 out of 5]

1⭐

*edit: lowered my rating because I keep thinking about how much I hate this book months later

*tw: sexism, racism, sexual assault, sexualization of children

The overarching problem of this book is that it feels like it was not touched by an editor. If it were touched by an editor, perhaps the chronology of the chapters would be better and many problematic things in this book would not be printed. Or, at the very least, there would be a trigger warning at the beginning.

Alpert tries to come off as this cultured man, having lived in Japan, Taiwan, and China and having traveled extensively. But mostly he comes off as annoying, sexist, racist, and creepy. He mentions things like the sexualization of children in Japan, but not in a "this is a bad thing" way. Instead, he talks about being distracted by teenage girls with "women's bodies." In general, the way he describes women in this book is basically by how much skin they have showing, mentioning their low-cut dresses and the like, and it's not fun to read. He also flippantly mentions Harvey Weinstein and makes it sound like the Me Too Movement is sort of this baseless thing against Weinstein without saying it explicitly. And in the course of describing that he thinks Japanese people are sort of racist, he flags himself as racist with his language (which I don't feel comfortable reproducing).

I probably could have written a lot of this in a better, more organized way, but honestly I was really mad throughout reading this book and was waiting the whole time to write a bad review. While it was interesting to learn more about Ghibli's business and how business in Japan differs from business in America, those things are overshadowed by disgusting comments that had no business being in a book, especially in 2020. Anyway, don't buy this book and give money to this man. If you really want to read it, find a bootleg copy online for free.

[Maria Hernandis · Rating 5 out of 5]

¡Qué gozada de libro! Una lectura super amena y entretenida, muy difícil de dejar una vez empiezas. Imprescindible para cualquier fan del Studio Ghibli, pero también para aquellos que estén interesados en la industria de la animación en general, o de la cultura empresarial en Japón desde el punto de vista de un occidental (son unas memorias empresariales, al fin y al cabo, en las que se habla mucho de la relación entre el Studio Ghibli y Disney). El autor (el primer extranjero en trabajar en el estudio) relata cantidad de anécdotas sobre Miyazaki, Toshio Suzuki (productor de la mayoría de sus películas) y Yasuyoshi Tokuma (jefe de la antigua compañía matriz de Ghibli y todo un personaje), además de otros nombres conocidos como John Lasseter y Harvey Weinstein con los que se cruzaron durante los 15 años en los que Alpert estuvo en Ghibli. Describe también (con gran capacidad para la narración) detalles y de la producción de La Princesa Mononoke, además de la andadura de El viaje de Chihiro hasta obtener el Oso de Oro y el Oscar a mejor película de animación. Por suerte para nosotros el libro ha sido ya traducido y publicado en España por Taketombo Books con imágenes a todo color de escenas de algunas películas del Studio Ghibli, además de incluir varias fotos del sobre los años de Steve Alpert en Ghibli.

[Leslie Hester · Rating 5 out of 5]

Let me take you back circa 2005:
Mom and dad both had medial conferences to attend so in order to keep us entertained, we had to find a movie to watch. Now think back in the day when you had to find showtimes in the newspaper, and you saw the theatrical poster for Howl’s moving castle. I was enthralled. I have always had a love for anime, but the beauty of Howl’s moving castle blew me away. That was my first studio Ghibli film and I was hooked. This book is a must if you are aghibli fan. The cover is gorgeous and the feel of the book,itself, is lovely. It led to stories I had heard rumored from the internet and provided me with insider knowledge of the events. I loved every minute of the book and Steve is a great storyteller. You can tell how much he loves working at studio ghibli and how much he cares about the rest of the world being able to experience the worlds that Hayao Miyazaki created.

[Matt Heiser · Rating 1 out of 5]

If you ever desperately wanted to know what Hayao Miyazaki had for his second course of his meal on October 27th, 1999, then this book is for you.

[Hots Hartley · Rating 4 out of 5]

Not a bad book. I enjoyed the author's personal account of his time at Ghibli. He certainly hits at all the main events and doesn't hold much back, experientially, but he does hold back on names.

1.) Naming - The inheritor of Ghibli's parent company, named Mr. O. A Disney lawyer named B. Producer Y. Mr. X. Z. A Chinese magnate he will call Bill. Too many people go by anonymous naming, which robs them of character and face. Some of them didn't even have physical descriptors, making them wholly forgettable after turning the page. I had to stretch my imagination to picture a difficult Miramax producer, major bank CEOs, and infamous Chinese engineers that he never properly names. At least give them a person's believable fictitious name and a physical descriptor like a beard or height, rather than just naming them after random letters of the alphabet!

2.) Lacking Insight into Creative Processes - Other than the general timeline of a Ghibli film, the author rarely delves into the creative methodology and inspirations of Hayao Miyazaki. Spending so much time near the man, he should at least know and share some of the creative highlights and mental processes the famous film director and storyteller used among his staff and alone, but most of the lessons recounted are from the business side of Ghibli's parent company, Tokuma-shoten, and businesspeople, including those at Disney and Miramax. Rarely does he provide glimpses into the animators and storytellers' creative juices.

3.) Unnecessarily Dry Humor and Details - One thing about storytelling that seems lost on the author is the need to cut the cruft, i.e. details and scenes that don't matter. At every major meal, Steve Alpert lists all of the dishes, and often even the gender of the cooked duck, deer, or animal dish. Likewise, he comments liberally on female exposed body parts at each award ceremony or interview: how much a woman's bosom was exposed, or how disappointed he was. This is unnecessary and banal. He surrounds juicy scenes with a lot of mundane detail, making the book seem pointless at times. Focusing in on the dramatic moments in the story, from the conversations with Miyazaki and the moments of insight, would have streamlined the tale considerably. The one area where the detail was good was the amount of money paid for some business expenses, like the right to photograph during awards ceremonies.

Overall, a good read, but it felt like he put too much attention and verbiage into mundane details, and too little of it into the personalities and processes of the story's key figure, Miyazaki ("The Never-Ending Man").

[Jason · Rating 2 out of 5]

Maybe like a 2.5, but more 2 than 3. Which is weird because I did finish it. I love Ghibli's films and Miyazaki in particular, which I think made me stick with it for the little insights I did get.

I also found myself interested somewhat unexpectedly in some of the business aspects of Ghibi and its parent company that the author worked within. This was really the main focus of the book. The title is pretty misleading, Miyazaki is at most the 4th most relevant character here and I didn't feel like there was much of a relationship related here between him and Miyazaki, but just some closer observations of Miyazaki's eccentricities etc. that Alpert's position within the company afforded him. I did appreciate the insight into Toshio Suzuki and his role w/ Ghibli and Tokuma, and some insights into his relationship with Miyazaki which I appreciated. That seemed to me to be the most fully fleshed out exploration of any personal relationship. Reading about the Tokuma himself was also entertaining for the most part, as a sort of big-ego loose cannon at the head of a huge company.

The writing seemed to have no narrative throughline though; just strung-together episodes mostly (but not completely) chronologically told. And there was a weird recurring thing where the same people would be re-introduced in a later section, that just felt a bit jarring to me.

At times I enjoyed the "Westerner" perspective on Japanese culture. To a lesser extent, this was kind applied in other sections, to places like Cannes and Berlin. These observations were sometimes insightful or funny, but at other times felt simplistic and stereotypical. Whatever depth or nuance the author may actually have about these other places and cultures, didn't seem to come through very well to me. I felt like he was too often going for the easy laugh or criticism.

There is a very noticeable thread of sexism, I browsed a few other reviews here and several go into more details that I won't bother to re-write myself.

Overall, glad I read it but wish it had been much much better. The narrative was missing everything that makes the best of Miyazaki's films so wonderful - heart, nuance, depth. For me at least if feels like a missed opportunity.