Hayao Miyazaki’s The Boy and the Heron (Studio Ghibli Official) is a staggering cinematic puzzle, but perhaps its most intensely debated mystery lies in a simple pile of building blocks: the “malice-filled stones.”

As Studio Ghibli producer Toshio Suzuki has openly confirmed, this 2023 animated feature is a deeply autobiographical confession from the legendary director. When analyzing the film’s narrative, it becomes blindingly obvious that the 13 malice-filled stones represent the exact cinematic works Miyazaki has painstakingly created over his career.

While that baseline explanation makes thematic sense, the specific numbers—”8″ and “13”—have been gnawing at me. If Mahito is offered 13 stones to build his world, “what does the number ‘8’ refer to?” Pay close attention to the film’s climax: when the Granduncle presents the 13 untainted stones to Mahito, we can clearly see the “collapsing pile of stones” that the Granduncle has already built. Count them. There are exactly eight stones in that fragile tower.

Miyazaki does not choose numbers by accident. Trying to perfectly divide the massive filmographies of Studio Ghibli, Hayao Miyazaki, and Isao Takahata to equal “8” and “13” is a complex mathematical puzzle. However, after extensive research, I discovered that from one highly specific perspective, these numbers align flawlessly.

Today, we are going to crack this cinematic cipher. The ultimate hint lies in the complicated, lifelong relationship between Hayao Miyazaki and his late mentor, Isao Takahata—the undeniable model for the Granduncle. Let’s break it down.

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

Audio Summary by AI

Short on time? Let our AI guide you through the core highlights of this analysis in a quick, conversational overview.

  • The Granduncle and the Stones: A Symbol of the Crucible
    The Granduncle is a complex psychological projection of both Isao Takahata and Hayao Miyazaki. The bizarre tower and the world below directly symbolize Studio Ghibli and Miyazaki’s inner mind. The “malice-filled stones” are the masterworks themselves, born through an agonizing, often toxic creative process.
  • Decoding “8” and “13”: The Boundary of Collaboration
    The math finally makes sense: the 8 stacked stones represent the 8 specific films Miyazaki co-created with Isao Takahata. The 13 unstacked stones represent the 13 major works Miyazaki spearheaded without Takahata’s direct involvement. The act of balancing these stones visualizes the crushing burden of their artistic achievements.
  • Mahito’s Refusal: A New Beginning from Self-Critique
    Mahito’s outright rejection of the 13 stones serves as Hayao Miyazaki’s brutal self-criticism of his own dictatorial methods. Yet, the fact that Mahito pockets a single stone to take back to the real world signifies a renewed creative determination. It is proof of “the man who is not finished,” Hayao Miyazaki.

Cracking the Code: The True Meaning of the 8 and 13 Malice-Filled Stones

A headline featuring Mahito and the Granduncle from the movie 'The Boy and the Heron' with the catchphrase 'Feelings for Isao Takahata and Self-Criticism' overlaid.

The Granduncle: A Metaphor for the Masters

Who Really Built the Tower?

To accurately decode the numbers of the malice-filled stones, we must first establish exactly who the Granduncle and the “world below” symbolize. I have explored this extensively in a previous article, What Do the Numerous Parakeets and Pelicans Mean? #The Granduncle’s Tower and the World Below -Preparing to Understand the Film-, utilizing quotes from various documentaries. Here is the essential summary:

The Boy and the Heron operates as a deeply profound autobiography of Director Hayao Miyazaki. Within this framework:

  • Toshio Suzuki has explicitly equated the “tower” to “Studio Ghibli.” The entire film functions as a surreal map of Miyazaki’s mind and his grueling creative ecosystem.
  • The protagonist, Mahito, is widely accepted as an alter ego of Miyazaki himself (specifically, “the other self he desperately wanted to be”).

While official sources confirm that the Granduncle was heavily modeled after Director Isao Takahata, the character is far more complex than a simple tribute:

  • He is not exclusively Takahata; Hayao Miyazaki’s own ego and anxieties are heavily projected onto the character as well.
  • As the ultimate “creator” within the film’s universe, the Granduncle serves as a vessel for Miyazaki’s personal views on life, art, and the heavy toll of leadership.

To fully grasp this dynamic, we must understand the historical relationship between Miyazaki and Takahata:

  • Isao Takahata was the “master” who first discovered Miyazaki’s raw talent. They fought side-by-side in the animation trenches from their youth.
  • While their mutual respect was legendary, their creative philosophies frequently clashed, leading to periods of intense, public criticism of one another’s work.

Synthesizing all this, it becomes undeniable: the Granduncle depicted in The Boy and the Heron is not merely a ghost of Isao Takahata, but a composite entity that fiercely symbolizes Hayao Miyazaki himself and his agonizing life of creation.

Furthermore, as detailed in my analysis of Hayao Miyazaki’s Statement in the Documentary, Miyazaki’s animation studio was notoriously ruthless—an environment so harsh that Miyazaki lamented it caused him to “lose friends.”

Isao Takahata’s production environment was equally, if not more, unforgiving. Toshio Suzuki shares a chilling anecdote in Ghibli Textbook 19: The Tale of the Princess Kaguya(ジブリの教科書 19 かぐや姫の物語, in Japanese), recalling the words of the late Yoshifumi Kondo (director of Whisper of the Heart):

On the night we visited Sendai for the Whisper of the Heart promotional campaign—which would tragically be his first and last directorial work—he started talking about Mr. Takahata and simply couldn’t stop. “Mr. Takahata tried to kill me. Just thinking about him still makes my body tremble.” He said this and cried uncontrollably for over two hours.

(Original Text in Japanese)
最初で最後の監督作となった『耳をすませば』のキャンペーンで仙台を訪れた日の夜、高畑さんのことを話しだしたら、止まらなくなりました。「高畑さんは僕のことを殺そうとした。高畑さんのことを考えると、いまだに体が震える。」そういって二時間以上、涙を流していました。

While quoting this singular passage may lack full context—I highly encourage you to research Director Takahata’s legendary perfectionism yourself—it perfectly illustrates the sheer emotional and physical devastation required to survive his animation sets.

It captures the raw terror felt by the artists who bled to bring Takahata’s visions to life.

With this harrowing background, it becomes crystal clear why the geometric blocks the Granduncle obsessively stacks are dubbed “malice-filled stones.” The final animated films may be breathtakingly beautiful, but the path taken to create them was paved with cruelty, exhaustion, and malice.

Hayao Miyazaki willingly fought alongside this man for decades. To crack the code of the stones, we must map out their shared history.

The Chronology of Creation: Miyazaki and Takahata

Let’s look at the hard data. To understand the numbers “8” and “13,” we must review the exact production chronology of Hayao Miyazaki and Isao Takahata.

Release Year Title Production Hayao Miyazaki’s Role Isao Takahata’s Role
1968 Horus: Prince of the Sun Toei Animation Key Animation, Art Setting, Scene Design Director
1972 Panda! Go, Panda! A Production Concept, Screenplay, Scene Setting, Key Animation Director
1973 Panda! Go, Panda!: The Rainy-Day Circus A Production Concept, Screenplay, Scene Setting, Key Animation Director
1974 Heidi, Girl of the Alps Zuiyo Eizo Scene Setting, Screen Composition Direction, Director
1976 3000 Leagues in Search of Mother Nippon Animation Scene Setting, Layout Direction, Director
1978 Future Boy Conan Nippon Animation Original Story, Screenplay, Storyboard, Director
1979 Lupin the 3rd: The Castle of Cagliostro Tokyo Movie Shinsha Director, Screenplay
1979 Anne of Green Gables Nippon Animation Scene Setting, Screen Composition Director
1984 Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind Topcraft → Ghibli Preparation Office Original Story, Screenplay, Director Producer
1986 Castle in the Sky Studio Ghibli Original Story, Screenplay, Director Producer
1988 My Neighbor Totoro Studio Ghibli Original Story, Screenplay, Director
1988 Grave of the Fireflies Studio Ghibli Director, Screenplay
1989 Kiki’s Delivery Service Studio Ghibli Screenplay, Director Music Direction
1991 Only Yesterday Studio Ghibli Executive Producer Director
1992 Porco Rosso Studio Ghibli Original Story, Screenplay, Director
1994 Pom Poko Studio Ghibli Planning Director, Screenplay
1995 Whisper of the Heart Studio Ghibli Planning, Screenplay, Storyboard, Executive Producer
1997 Princess Mononoke Studio Ghibli Original Story, Screenplay, Director
1999 My Neighbors the Yamadas Studio Ghibli Director, Screenplay
2001 Spirited Away Studio Ghibli Original Story, Screenplay, Director
2004 Howl’s Moving Castle Studio Ghibli Director, Screenplay
2008 Ponyo Studio Ghibli Original Story, Screenplay, Director
2011 From Up on Poppy Hill Studio Ghibli Planning, Screenplay
2013 The Wind Rises Studio Ghibli Original Story, Screenplay, Director
2013 The Tale of the Princess Kaguya Studio Ghibli Director, Screenplay
2023 The Boy and the Heron Studio Ghibli Original Story, Screenplay, Director

As the timeline proves, their direct creative involvement with one another thinned out drastically after Only Yesterday (1991). From a filmmaking perspective, they essentially ceased operating as “main staff” on each other’s subsequent projects.

With this roadmap in place, the true meaning of the numbers “8” and “13” finally clicks into place.

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The Cinematic Cipher: Decoding “8” and “13”

Based on the intertwined histories of these two titans, let’s unlock the cipher of the malice-filled stones. First, I will give you the definitive conclusion.

The Verdict: A Division of Labor

To cut straight to the truth, the 8 stones stacked by the Granduncle represent the following 8 works:

Title Release Year Hayao Miyazaki’s Role Isao Takahata’s Role
Horus: Prince of the Sun 1968 Key Animation, Art Setting, Scene Design Director
Panda! Go, Panda! 1972, 1973 Concept, Screenplay, Scene Setting, Key Animation Director
Heidi, Girl of the Alps 1974 Scene Setting, Screen Composition Direction, Director
3000 Leagues in Search of Mother 1976 Scene Setting, Layout Direction, Director
Anne of Green Gables 1979 Scene Setting, Screen Composition Direction, Director
Only Yesterday 1991 Executive Producer Director
Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind 1984 Original Story, Screenplay, Director Producer
Castle in the Sky 1986 Original Story, Screenplay, Director Producer

(Note: Panda! Go, Panda! is logically treated as a single unified work, combining the 1972 original and the 1973 Rainy-Day Circus sequel.)

Conversely, the 13 stones offered to Mahito represent the following 13 works:

Title Release Year Hayao Miyazaki’s Role
Future Boy Conan 1978 Original Story, Screenplay, Storyboard, Director
Lupin the 3rd: The Castle of Cagliostro 1979 Director, Screenplay
My Neighbor Totoro 1988 Original Story, Screenplay, Director
Kiki’s Delivery Service 1989 Screenplay, Director
Porco Rosso 1992 Original Story, Screenplay, Director
Whisper of the Heart 1995 Planning, Screenplay, Executive Producer
On Your Mark 1995 Original Story, Screenplay, Director
Princess Mononoke 1997 Original Story, Screenplay, Director
Spirited Away 2001 Original Story, Screenplay, Director
Howl’s Moving Castle 2004 Screenplay, Director
Ponyo 2008 Original Story, Screenplay, Director
From Up on Poppy Hill 2011 Planning, Screenplay
The Wind Rises 2013 Original Story, Screenplay, Director

You may be wondering why Pom Poko and The Tale of the Princess Kaguya are entirely absent from both lists. I will explain the precise logic behind these exclusions.

The Final Act: Mahito’s Rejection and the Parakeet King

To accept the division of “8” and “13,” we must remember the crucial dual-nature of the Granduncle: he is a projection of both Isao Takahata and Hayao Miyazaki.

If you stubbornly view the Granduncle as *only* Takahata, or *only* Miyazaki, the math behind the malice-filled stones collapses entirely.

Ultimately, the 8 stones represent the works Hayao Miyazaki built shoulder-to-shoulder with Isao Takahata, while the 13 stones represent the works Miyazaki created entirely without Takahata’s direct involvement. (For clarity: while rumor has it Takahata “helped” behind the scenes on Future Boy Conan, and he officially served as Music Director for Kiki’s Delivery Service, he did not hold a core directorial/production role on those films, so they belong in the 13).

Additionally, while they technically collaborated on the live-action documentary The Story of Yanagawa’s Canals (1987), it is excluded from this count simply because it is live-action, not animation.

You might point out that the “13 stones” list includes films Miyazaki did not officially direct (like Whisper of the Heart and From Up on Poppy Hill). However, because Miyazaki wrote the screenplays and practically dictated the storyboards, ignoring them would be a far bigger critical error. Furthermore, Pom Poko and The Tale of the Princess Kaguya are excluded from both lists because they were solely Takahata’s directorial visions; Miyazaki’s hands-on involvement was practically nonexistent.

A keen observer might note: while the Granduncle’s collapsing tower clearly features 8 stones at the end, if you count the loose stones on the table earlier in the film, there are 10. You could argue those two extra stones represent Pom Poko and Kaguya. In fact, right as the “world below” begins its apocalyptic collapse, there are actually 11 stones scattered about. Miyazaki leaves the exact, on-screen count slightly ambiguous, keeping the metaphor fluid.

Now that we have established that the “malice-filled stones” are literal filmographies forged in a punishing environment, we must analyze the division. Why “8” versus “13”?

The answer is hidden in the climactic sequence: the Granduncle offers the 13 stones to Mahito, Mahito rejects them, and finally, the volatile Parakeet King impulsively stacks them, causing the universe to shatter.

As Toshio Suzuki revealed in SWITCH Vol.41 No.9:

Miya-san says, “The Parakeet King is me.” And he also said, “The other self I wanted to be is Mahito.”

(Original Text in Japanese)
宮さんは「インコ大王は自分だ」と言う。そして「なりたかったもう一人の自分が眞人だ」と言っていました。

Because the Parakeet King (Miyazaki’s raging ego) grabs and stacks the 13 stones, we know the “13 stones” definitively represent the films Hayao Miyazaki directed independently. Consequently, Mahito’s steadfast refusal to touch those stones serves as a brutal self-criticism. Miyazaki is actively rejecting the toxic, obsessive methods he utilized to forge those 13 masterpieces.

Conversely, because the “8 stones” were already balanced by the Granduncle (the hybrid projection of Takahata and Miyazaki), it perfectly confirms they are the works the two masters forged together in their youth.

In the film’s final moments, Mahito consciously rejects the Granduncle’s cursed legacy, yet he deliberately pockets a single “malice-filled stone” to carry back to the real world. What does this mean?

It is a bold declaration of survival. It represents his “determination to continue creating art, but in an entirely new way.”

The Boy and the Heron is a staggering autobiography laced with heavy self-criticism. Yet, by walking out of the ruins with that single stone, the film refuses to be a simple retirement letter. It stands as a roaring testament to the man who is not finished: Hayao Miyazaki.


This breaks down my personal theory regarding the encrypted numbers “8” and “13” behind the malice-filled stones. I started with the raw numbers and reverse-engineered the filmography to see if the pieces fit. While art is entirely subjective and other valid interpretations certainly exist, I firmly believe this theory hits the thematic bullseye.

What do you think the “8” and “13” stones truly represent?

The images used in this article are provided by the Studio Ghibli Works Still Images collection.