Hayao Miyazaki’s 1997 masterpiece, Princess Mononoke(Studio Ghibli Official), arrived at a pivotal moment in animation history. At the time, Studio Ghibli was fresh off the success of Pom Poko (1994) and Whisper of the Heart (1995). However, for Miyazaki himself, it had been five long years since Porco Rosso (1992), making Mononoke an incredibly anticipated return for fans worldwide.

The cultural landscape of 1997 was also defined by Hideaki Anno’s Neon Genesis Evangelion. While Evangelion‘s TV run ended in 1996, its theatrical conclusion, The End of Evangelion, was released the same year as Mononoke. The contrast between the two was staggering: while Miyazaki’s tagline was a defiant “Live.”, one of Evangelion’s most famous marketing slogans was “So, everyone should just die…”

Today, by comparing these two era-defining works, I want to explore the psychological reason why the end credits of Princess Mononoke are set against a completely black background. What does that void actually represent?

*This is a translated version. The original (Japanese) is available here.

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  • A Radical Departure from Ghibli Tradition
    Unlike Miyazaki’s previous films, which used the credits to show the “aftermath” of the story, Princess Mononoke ends in total darkness. This visual void is a deliberate choice tailored to the film’s uniquely heavy themes.
  • Ashitaka and Irontown: The Outcasts’ Shared Fate
    Ashitaka is fundamentally a man who has been “told he is not needed.” Similarly, the people of Irontown represent those who have “drawn the short straw” in society. The film explores their struggle to exist in a world that has no place for them.
  • The Documentary of an Unsolvable Problem
    Princess Mononoke functions more like a documentary than a fantasy. Because it tackles an unsolvable conflict, it cannot provide a traditional “happy ending.” The black credits force the audience to sit with the weight of that reality.
  • Miyazaki’s “Small Lie” of Hope
    Despite the darkness, Miyazaki offers a glimmer of hope through what he calls a “pathetic revival.” By allowing the characters to take responsibility for their actions, he creates a narrow path forward, balancing grim realism with a creator’s spirit of survival.
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Princess Mononoke (1997) Trivia: The Mystery of the Black Credits

If you examine Hayao Miyazaki’s filmography, the end credits of Princess Mononoke stand out as a glaring anomaly. The background is completely black, devoid of the charming illustrations or epilogue animations that define his other works. Let’s look at the history:

  • The Castle of Cagliostro: Fades to a simple “The End.”
  • Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind: Shows the rebirth of the world through detailed tapestries.
  • Castle in the Sky: Follows Laputa as it floats into the upper atmosphere.
  • My Neighbor Totoro: Features heartwarming still images of Mei and Satsuki’s life after the movie.
  • Kiki’s Delivery Service: An animated sequence showing Kiki fully integrated into her new town.
  • Porco Rosso: A nostalgic photo-montage of the characters’ subsequent lives.

Compared to these, Princess Mononoke feels like a door being slammed shut. This transition to total darkness is one of the film’s most significant aesthetic statements.

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Character Analysis: The “Unwanted People” of Princess Mononoke

To understand the “black credits,” we have to look at the people Miyazaki chose to depict. In the documentary How Princess Mononoke Was Born (「もののけ姫」はこうして生まれた, in Japanese), Miyazaki made a startlingly bleak comment about his protagonist:

“…In short, he is clearly a person who is told he is not needed. That he’s disposable… that even if he does something great, he won’t be praised for it. That what you do has no place here. The protagonist is told such things not because he did something wrong, but as a result of doing the ‘right’ thing. That’s the kind of character he is.”

“Living in this world, how will the young people who have drawn the short straw—in an unfair, absurd way, both physically and spiritually—how will they feel about it? It is their common destiny… this sense of entrapment has been felt over and over again throughout history.”

This description of “drawing the short straw” applies to almost everyone in the film. Ashitaka is an outcast, driven from his home with a death sentence for protecting his village. The people of Irontown are former lepers, brothel workers, and social pariahs. They have all been “told they are not needed” by the outside world.

When I saw this movie as a child, I completely missed this subtext. I saw Ashitaka as a cool, heroic warrior. I viewed his departure from the village as a “noble quest.” I didn’t realize he was being exiled with the unspoken words: “You saved us, but now that you’re cursed, you’re a liability. Get out.”

Even Ashitaka’s iconic smile to Kaya as he leaves is not one of happiness—it is a manifestation of his stoic principle to give the best smile in the darkest of times. By recognizing that Mononoke is a story about the “unwanted,” the ending takes on a much heavier weight.

A Story with No Solution: The “Documentary” Aspect

What kind of ending can you give to a story about people who have “drawn the short straw” in an unsolvable war between nature and industry?

A “traditional” children’s movie would offer a miracle: the forest is fully restored, Ashitaka’s curse is magically wiped away, and everyone lives in harmony. But that would be a lie.

In reality, the people who are told they aren’t needed continue to be outcasts. The “short straw” remains in their hands. Because Princess Mononoke refuses to lie about this, it ceases to be a simple fantasy and becomes a “documentary” of human struggle. It reflects the harsh truth that even if you survive an apocalypse, you still have to wake up the next day and find a way to live in a broken world.

This is why the credits are black. Miyazaki cannot show us a “happily ever after” illustration because the characters’ problems haven’t been “solved”—they have simply been “endured.” The black void forces the viewer to sit in silence and process the gravity of what they just witnessed. It is an ending that demands thought rather than providing emotional closure.

Summary

Princess Mononoke is a documentary of our modern era, disguised as a period fantasy. It depicts people living through unsolvable conflicts. Because it lacks a straightforward “entertainment” resolution, it cannot show a background depicting a peaceful aftermath. The black credits are the visual manifestation of this lack of an easy answer.

Miyazaki’s Spirit: The “Small Lie” of the Pathetic Revival

While the film leans into documentary-like realism, Miyazaki is still a creator who wants to offer something to his audience. He does this through what he calls the “pathetic revival.”

When Ashitaka and San return the head to the Forest Spirit, the forest doesn’t return to its primeval glory. Instead, there is a small, scrubby, “pathetic” regrowth. It is far from ideal, but it is something. Ashitaka’s insistence that they return the head “with human hands” shows a conscious step toward taking responsibility for their actions.

This is Miyazaki’s “small lie”—a tiny sliver of hope to ensure the film remains a work of spirit rather than pure nihilism. It suggests that while the world is broken, being conscious of our role in that destruction is the first step toward a “pathetic,” yet meaningful, forward motion.

This brings us back to Neon Genesis Evangelion.

Read more: Evangelion vs. Gundam: The Message of the Final Episode

Both Mononoke and Evangelion deal with characters burdened by deep trauma and “unsolvable” social alienation. To end Evangelion with a simple reconciliation between Shinji and Gendo would have been a massive lie. Instead, Anno ended the TV series with Shinji’s internal realization: “I am allowed to be here.”

In the same era, both Miyazaki and Anno were wrestling with the same crushing sense of modern entrapment. They both chose to end their works not with a triumphant victory, but with a desperate, spiritual affirmation of the self. Whether it’s Ashitaka’s “pathetic revival” or Shinji’s “Congratulations,” it is the sound of a creator screaming at a lost generation to just keep breathing.

A Note on Production Chaos: While this analysis explores the thematic depth of the black credits, it’s worth noting that the production of Mononoke was famously behind schedule. Some argue they simply ran out of time to animate a background for the ending. Perhaps the void is where art and reality meet.

The images used in this article are from Studio Ghibli Works Still Images.

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Sifr
A Japanese man in his 30s, originally from northern Japan and now based in Yokohama. He works in the education field by day, and in his spare time, writes articles about his favorite movies and animation.