Written by: Sofia Tas-Castro
The first time I watched this film was last year when I was studying abroad in Tokyo, Japan. At the time, I hadn’t seen any of the Studio Ghibli Films (shocker, I know) before I arrived, but through the classes I was taking finally got exposed to them. However, this film in particular left a lasting impression on me. To this day I can still remember every aspect of it. Maybe it’s because it resonated with me as a fellow artist, or maybe it was because I loved the relatability of Kiki’s character and the realness of her situation. Regardless, the film asks its audience the question: why do we create art, and when do we draw the line between creating art for ourselves and for our jobs?
The film follows a young witch-in-training named Kiki, who travels to the city to begin her formal witch education. Part of this education is the ability for witches to fly on broomsticks, which Kiki is still mastering. When she arrives, she realizes that in order to survive, she needs to earn money, so she commercializes her ability to fly and makes her skill into a delivery service for a local bakery. Towards the end of the film, she panics when she suddenly loses this ability.
The film twists the traditional Bildungsroman or coming-of-age genre and forces Kiki to reflect on her maturity, in this case analyzing why she flies and her flying journey. At first, she flew for the love of her witch identity and the feeling of freedom. But now that she’s flying for her job, she doesn’t see the act as art or fun, but something to profit from. During her crisis, her friend Ursula, a painter, advises her to stop trying so hard to fly. She reminds Kiki that every artist has their own inspiration for why they do what they do, and to force creation doesn’t let the artist remember or channel that inspiration.
In the end, Kiki does regain her ability to fly but only when she saves her friend Tombo from certain death. Saving Tombo reminded her that her flying is an essence of her soul, not just a job she has to do.
Just like in today’s world, industries are making art solely a job, and not to express creative identity or unique ideas. With the creation and advancement of AI, artists of all mediums and genres are being forced to produce at a faster and faster rate to keep their jobs and frankly, to keep the industry alive. Because of this, an increasing number of artists are losing passion for what they do and are no longer pursuing careers in the creative world. The ones who are still in the industry are continuously falling victim to burnout. As Kiki has shown us, art is inborn in the artist and is an essential part to their soul. Without their art, an artist loses a part of their identity and struggles to express who they are. There isn’t anything wrong with an artist commercializing their art, so long as they remind themselves of why they began creating and take frequent breaks to avoid burnout. But with AI, artists can’t do this. Taking breaks is seen as weak, and why bother with hiring someone passionate when you can use a machine to replicate the same work?
AI can try its best to replicate human art, but it does not have an essence or inspiration as to why it creates. Its art isn’t art; it’s solely a task that needs to be completed. Kiki’s Delivery Service serves as foreshadowing what happens when we entirely commercialize art. If we solely rely on AI and burn out our passionate artists, we won’t have true art anymore. Industries may not realize this now, but it’s our duty as artists to remind others, whether they be large companies, students, or everyday consumers that continuing on this path of relying on AI and abusing artists, won’t benefit anyone and won’t produce quality art. Art is the property of the artists and as such it is the artists’ responsibility to see how it is commercialized and ensure that it is made by fellow human beings, not AI or a computer.
Featured Image Caption: Kiki from Kiki’s Delivery Service and her cat Jiji