I Ranked Every Studio Ghibli Movie and My Heart Is Still Recovering

This is the one I place at the bottom.

I couldn’t connect with the characters or the emotional logic of the story. Watching the mistreatment of children felt unpleasant instead of meaningful, and the ending left me unsatisfied.

If I didn’t know it was Ghibli, I’d assume it was a lower-budget project. The plot feels thin, the dull characters never grow into anything I care about, and the CGI look doesn’t give me that signature Ghibli warmth I expect.

The Tale of Princess Kaguya is based on the old Japanese story sometimes called “The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter.” I already knew the basic narrative going in, which made it harder to surprise me.

But the art style still floored me. It’s delicate, raw, and intentional. I ranked it lower mainly because it’s emotionally heavy in a way I don’t reach for often, not because it lacks quality.

People associate Ghibli with Miyazaki’s work, but this one is Takahata, and you can feel that difference in the emotional texture.

This isn’t the film I use to “sell” Ghibli to someone new. But I do enjoy it.

I like the sketchy, minimalist look. It feels like warm newspaper comics that grew into a movie. It’s funny, gentle, and quietly smart, especially when it comes to family dynamics.

And yes, The characters work for me, especially the grandma. She’s the kind of character who steals scenes without trying.

This is one of those films that feels wildly specific, and that’s why I respect it.

Takahata’s voice is all over it, and I like the way it blends humor with melancholy without begging for approval. The story’s cultural flavor is strong, and the film doesn’t dilute itself to be “universal.”

I also appreciate the context around Takahata as a creator, including his earlier work like the ‘Heidi’ series from the 1970s.

This is my “I want Ghibli, but I don’t want to cry” pick.

The plot is simple, the pacing is light, and the cat kingdom chaos is genuinely fun. Also, as someone who loves cats, I’m an easy target for this movie.

It’s not the deepest film in the catalog, but it’s charming on purpose. Sometimes that’s enough.

After the big fantasy titles, this one surprised me with how restrained it is.

If you like grounded anime that actually feels like teenage emotions, this hits. It’s a quiet love triangle with the kind of awkward realism I rarely see handled this cleanly.

For people who search for high school romance, I get why this has a loyal fanbase.

I went into this one with high expectations because I care about Earthsea as a world.

Visually, it’s beautiful. Emotionally, it’s uneven. I can see the respect for the source material, but I also feel the story straining to combine elements that don’t fully fuse.

I don’t hate it. I just don’t reach for it first.

This one feels like the blueprint for so much that came later.

It’s not technically under the Ghibli banner, but it’s absolutely part of the DNA. Miyazaki’s environmental themes and heroic compassion are already fully alive here.

I also like the historical footnote that it involved the studio behind The Last Unicorn, which later connects to the formation of Ghibli as a creative powerhouse.

I think this film is underrated, and I’ll keep saying that.

It’s romantic, funny, and bittersweet without trying too hard. The aviation sequences are gorgeous, and the mood is mature in a way that feels effortless.

For me, this movie is a stunning piece of art that deserves more casual love, not just “film nerd respect.”

This is classic adventure Ghibli. Big feelings, bigger sky, and a story that moves like a folk tale with momentum.

I love how it balances wonder with danger. It’s also one of the films I recommend to people who want a “fun plot” first, then the deeper themes later.

And yes, I’m keeping this detail because it’s part of the film’s history: it was distributed by the Toei Company.

This is one of the most quietly influential Ghibli films for me.

It’s grounded. It’s about adolescence and ambition, not fantastical creatures or world-saving quests.

When I watch it, I remember exactly what it felt like to be a teenager who wanted to be good at something, but didn’t know how yet.

I like this movie because it doesn’t shout.

It’s a love story without the usual loud romance tropes. No big villain. No forced drama. Just everyday life, history, and longing.

When I’m in the mood for a gentle, human film, this one is a reliable pick.

I get why people obsess over this one. The visuals are iconic, and the castle itself feels like a character.

But what makes it stick for me is Sophie. A young girl, Sophie, forced into a new body and a new life, still finds her backbone. That’s the heart of it.

I also love the anti-war undercurrent. It’s not subtle, and I’m glad it isn’t.

This movie is pure color and affection.

It’s also one of the films I recommend when someone wants something safe for a younger viewer without feeling “babyish.”

And yes, I know a lot of people already know Ponyo’s narrative. For me, it’s the emotional tone that matters. It’s sincere. It’s gentle. It’s joyful.

This one is craft-forward in the best way.

I watch it and feel the precision. The planes. The skies. The careful observation of a person chasing a dream that comes with moral weight.

It’s beautiful, but it’s not “comfort.” It’s a film I watch when I want art that asks something of me.

This film hits a specific emotional nerve for me: loneliness that doesn’t look dramatic from the outside.

I like how it handles identity, memory, and connection without turning everything into a speech. It’s quiet, but it’s emotionally sharp.

If you’ve ever felt like you were “too much” or “not enough” at the same time, I think this one understands you.

This is the film I reach for when I want to feel safe.

It’s soft, but it isn’t shallow. It understands childhood fear and hope without overstating either one.

And I’ll happily credit the man directly because it’s true: it was crafted by the iconic animator Hayao Miyazaki.

I don’t rewatch this often. I respect it too much to treat it casually.

It’s devastating. It’s human. It’s one of the few animated films that I think belongs in the “great war films” conversation without apology.

When people say animation is only for kids, this is the title I think about first.

This is Ghibli for adults who want something reflective, not fantastical.

I like the way it treats memory, work, and personal growth as worthy subjects. It’s slow in a deliberate way, not a boring way.

When it clicks, it feels like looking at your own life from a more forgiving angle.

I’m a sucker for small-world storytelling, and this one nails that feeling.

Hand-drawn animation gives it a warmth I don’t get from most CGI films. The scale, the details, the quiet tension of being hidden, it all works for me.

It also feels like a gentle reminder that “tiny lives” still contain huge stakes.

This is my confidence-reset movie.

Kiki’s story reminds me that burnout and self-doubt are part of growth, not proof that I’m failing. I’ve returned to it during stressful seasons more than once.

And I love that the film doesn’t need a big villain to be compelling. Life is the challenge. That’s enough.

This is Ghibli at its most ferocious.

When I first watched it, I was stunned by how mature it felt, not just in violence, but in moral complexity. Nobody is purely right. Nobody is purely evil. Even Lady Eboshi is understandable, and that’s what makes it powerful.

I don’t watch it for comfort. I watch it because it feels like myth with teeth.

This is my number one. Every time.

I’ve watched “Spirited Away” in different stages of my life, and it keeps changing shape. When I was younger, it was magical chaos. As I got older, it became a story about identity, work, courage, and keeping your name in a world that tries to erase you.

The visuals are unforgettable. The music is haunting. And the way Chihiro grows from frightened to brave still feels earned every single time I watch.