Never-Ending Man: Hayao Miyazaki (2017)

Never-Ending Man: Hayao Miyazaki is special because it doesn’t treat its subject like a monument—it watches him like a working artist, restless even in “retirement,” still chasing the next image that feels alive. The camera lingers on the small, human rhythms of his days and the stubborn, tender intensity of his craft, making inspiration feel less like a slogan and more like a habit he can’t quit. It’s an intimate, quietly revealing film with the gentle patience of a studio visit, punctuated by moments where Miyazaki’s convictions about art and life flare into sharp focus. If you’re hoping for a brisk, comprehensive career retrospective, this isn’t that; but if you want a privileged seat beside a master as he wrestles with creativity, aging, and the urge to keep making, it’s deeply worth your time.

Never-Ending Man: Hayao Miyazaki is clearly trying to be an intimate, unvarnished look at a legend after “retirement,” showing the grind, the stubborn perfectionism, and the slow crawl back into creating. The catch is that it’s often as painstaking as the animation process it documents: lots of small moments, long stretches of routine, and a rough, limited perspective that can feel more like access than insight. If you’re not already fascinated by Miyazaki’s personality and process, you may find it tedious and a bit thin on bigger context or deeper analysis. Still, for fans, there are genuinely compelling glimpses—especially watching him wrestle with new technology and his own standards—plus the simple pleasure of being in the room with someone who refuses to stop working.