Makoto Naganuma’s 2009 film “A Tale of Ululu’s Wonderful Forest” stands as a gentle yet profoundly moving meditation on childhood, nature, and the bonds we form with the creatures around us. The narrative follows two siblings who, displaced from urban life by their mother’s illness, find themselves navigating a new existence in the countryside with their veterinarian father. Their journey takes an unexpected turn when they discover that the adorable puppy they’ve adopted is actually a wolf cub. Rather than surrendering the animal to captivity, the children make the compassionate choice to return it to its mother in the forest, embarking on an adventure that transforms their understanding of the natural world and their place within it.
Upon its release, the film resonated particularly strongly with audiences across Europe who appreciated its earnest approach to environmental storytelling and its refusal to sentimentalize nature. The movie found critical acclaim for its visual beauty and emotional authenticity, earning recognition at several international film festivals. European reviewers especially praised how the narrative avoided heavy-handed messaging, instead allowing themes of responsibility, loss, and connection to emerge naturally through the children’s experiences. The film’s quiet, contemplative pacing appealed to viewers seeking alternatives to more commercially driven animated fare.
What elevates “A Tale of Ululu’s Wonderful Forest” from a charming children’s story to something genuinely transcendent is Joe Hisaishi’s magnificent orchestral score. The legendary composer, renowned for his collaborations with Hayao Miyazaki and his distinctive approach to film music, crafted a soundscape that serves as a character in itself. Hisaishi’s compositional strategy for this film emphasizes the dialogue between civilization and wilderness, employing thematic development to mirror the children’s emotional journey from urban alienation to forest awakening.
The score’s primary motif—introduced early and returning throughout the film—captures the wolf cub’s liminal existence between domesticity and wildness. Hisaishi uses delicate piano passages interwoven with strings to express the children’s growing attachment to the animal, while subtle woodwind elements hint at the forest’s call. As the narrative progresses, these themes become increasingly complex and intertwined, reflecting the moral and emotional complications that arise as the children grapple with their impossible choice.
Hisaishi’s orchestration throughout demonstrates his masterful understanding of restraint. Rather than overwhelming pivotal scenes with grandiose arrangements, he allows space for the film’s visuals and sound design to breathe. The music often recedes to highlight natural sounds—birdsong, wind through trees, the patter of rain—creating an immersive soundworld that reinforces the film’s celebration of nature’s inherent beauty. During moments of discovery and wonder, particularly as the siblings venture deeper into the forest, Hisaishi employs soaring string arrangements that capture the simultaneously thrilling and frightening experience of encountering the wild.
The composer’s use of traditional Japanese instrumentation alongside Western orchestral elements provides cultural grounding while maintaining universal emotional appeal. This fusion perfectly complements the film’s exploration of bridging different worlds—the urban and rural, the civilized and wild, the human and animal. The final sequences, depicting the children’s farewell to the wolf cub, showcase some of Hisaishi’s most poignant writing, with music that acknowledges both the sadness of separation and the rightness of the decision made.
For European admirers of Hisaishi’s work, this score represents the composer at the height of his powers, demonstrating why his music remains essential to understanding contemporary film composition.
