Welcome to Auteur, a newsletter that dives deep into the world of film and asks: What can we, as brand builders, learn from this? Published every other week, each edition takes a film of our guest’s choosing, and extracts the creative lessons.
Film is one the richest mediums we have for understanding how narrative, aesthetics, and language can be woven together to move an audience, and this is an ambition that lies at the heart of what we do as designers, marketers, and strategists.
Thank you for joining us. Auteur is written and curated by Thursday—a strategic design studio based in the architectural city of Winchester. We work globally with the ethos that being different isn’t enough—what truly matters is being interesting.
This week’s guest is (our very own) Pete O’Connor.
“As a founding member of Thursday, I bring over 20 years of experience leading the design team as Creative Director. My aesthetic is distinctly minimalist, influenced heavily by the purity of Japanese and Scandinavian design.”
Introducing Spirited Away (2001).
The film opens with a shot of Chihiro, our timid ten-year-old protagonist, stretched out in the back seat of a car, clutching a bouquet of “farewell flowers”. She’s sulking while her parents chatter brightly about her new school—blissfully unaware that the otherworldly journey she’s about to begin will soon sweep her fear of change aside.
The scene feels alive—the outside world whizzes past the windows, the colors are bright and warm, and Chihiro’s surly attitude is palpable—and it’s made even richer by a whimsical, almost melancholic soundtrack, perfectly attuned to what’s unfolding on screen.
This is the quiet magic of many Studio Ghibli films—they feel full and cohesive from the very first frame, the world itself leading the script, which finds its power in simplicity.
Pete shares my sentiment, and it’s one of the reasons he chose the film:
“I’ve been a life-long fan of Studio Ghibli and the masterful ideas behind their work.
Spirited Away feels like a gentle reminder of how magical the world can seem through a child’s eyes—mysterious, strange, and full of quiet beauty. At its heart, it’s about growth, resilience, and finding one’s identity in an unfamiliar world—all told through breath-taking visuals and a hauntingly beautiful soundtrack.
It’s a film that stays with you long after it ends.”
I’m glad to bring a bit of levity after last edition’s pick, but don’t let the animation and feel-good feeling fool you into thinking there’s no profundity here. The film has an undeniable mythic quality; there are lessons in every scene, and distilling them was no easy task. I finished it with a renewed urge to reconnect with my own imagination—so if you need a reason to watch, start there.”
As always, I share selected scenes—no watch-ruining spoilers. I watched the Japanese original with English subtitles, but fair warning: some beauty inevitably slips through the cracks in translation. Let’s get into it.
The Big Idea: Remember where you came from.
Every great film—like every great brand—is anchored by a defining concept or conversation it can own. Here, I explore a central idea from the film, and play with how it could translate into a brand context.
“If you completely forget your name, you’ll never find your way home.”
The magical reality of a child’s coming-of-age is dreamily rendered in Spirited Away.
Through richly painted landscapes and episodic scenes, Miyazaki invites us to traverse an enchanting yet unsettling spirit world complete with a dragon, a talking frog, and a giant baby, through the eyes of our reluctant hero, Chihiro.
She and her parents stumble into this world through her father’s clumsy greed, who despite Chihiro’s whiny demeanour, is undoubtedly more immature than she. Their gluttony transforms her parents into pigs, leaving her with one job: saving them.
Notably, in this spirit realm, names are stolen. Everyone is given a new name, and the forgetting of their original identity is what traps souls under the rule of the gold-drenched, wrinkly witch Yubaba. Without the memory of who they once were, they lose their path home and ability to liberate themselves.
Remembering where you came from becomes an instruction, not just for brands but for each of us: your origin story matters. What would happen if, instead of always looking forward, we turned to look back?
Why it Works: We live in a culture charmed by the future, by possibility, reinvention, potential. Remember where you came from reminds us of the liberating power of looking inward, of reconnecting with who we are and where we began. For brands, this is more than nostalgia—it is a timeless clarity about what you stand for. Archetypally, Spirited Away is The Sage: a quiet educator, rooted in wisdom and values, unconcerned with trends.
What Spirited Away (2001) teaches us about brand.
Lesson 1: Find an insider, and follow them.
“Now, when things quiet down, go out through the back gate. Go all the way down the stairs until you reach the boiler room, where they stoke the fires. There you’ll find Kamaji, the boiler man.”
Haku—a steely, ninja-like spirit—takes Chihiro under his wing, and gives her instructions on how to survive. Importantly, he never tells her what to do—she has to overcome her anxiety and step into her power alone—but he guides her on how. Telling her where to go, and who to speak to, and most powerfully, showing her where her parents are being kept.
Haku is not Chihiro’s only insider. There’s also Lin, the bathhouse worker who covers for her, warns her about the rules, and risks her own job to help Chihiro stay hidden.
Each insider offers a piece of the puzzle, but none give her a shortcut. Chihiro survives not because she studies a manual, but because she listens to people who have gone before her.
Insight: When facing a brand challenge, it’s tempting to turn to frameworks, books, or industry playbooks. Sometimes, what you need instead is an insider—someone who’s been there. Don’t ask them what to do; ask where to look, whom to talk to, and what questions to ask. A guide is better than a guru.
Lesson 2: Greed can change your brand entirely.
“Those pigs must be ready to eat now. Turn them into bacon.”
Miyazaki’s spirit world is set during Japan’s Meiji era (1868–1912), a time when the country opened to Western trade and tastes, and he seems to therefore take a critical eye by showing the consequences of unchecked hunger, and how it can devour anything it touches.
Returning to Chihiro’s parents, it was their sheer greed that turned them into pigs—previously they stood apart from the spirits in their humanity. Now they were mindless, indistinguishable from thousands of other pigs. Their forms, voices, surroundings, irrevocably transformed by gluttony.
While Chihiro’s parents seem satisfied in their pig state, they’ve lost the ability to act and react independently. Though they have grown, they’ve sacrificed their souls and now are constantly at-risk of death: “Those pigs must be ready to eat now. Turn them into bacon.”
Insight: As brand and marketing guardians, we’re rarely in control of ambitious targets set from above. Sometimes, grabbing the low-hanging fruit is necessary for profit and survival—but being greedy with growth can render you dependent on market forces. Establish Brand Guardrails—a clear set of practices and principles to protect your identity when the pressure to “do what your competitors are doing” mounts.
Lesson 3: Maturing isn’t elegant—until it is.
“Gee, Sen, haven't you ever worked a day in your life?"
Chihiro’s journey is far from smooth. Her voice is whiny and uncertain and her hands tremble with nervous energy. She runs through the bathhouse corridors, crashing into things, bumping into workers, and fumbling her tasks. The animation captures every jitter and stumble, making her vulnerability palpable—she’s raw, overwhelmed, and decidedly not in control. Until she is.
Growth is rarely elegant or linear. It’s messy, iterative, and often awkward. But it’s necessary. Standing still — letting fear or uncertainty freeze you — isn’t an option for us as brand builders, and it certainly was not an option for Chihiro. She had no choice but to keep moving forward through a deeply unfamiliar and threatening environment. This movement, no matter how clumsy, was what kept her alive and growing.
Insight: Don’t be precious. Embrace stumbling. Inertia can reduce brand resonance, especially in a algorithmic environment that demands newness. To keep you moving, and your brand alive, run monthly, iterative experiments that have no success metrics attached.
Closing Thoughts
Spirited Away invites us to face new business challenges and uncharted waters while staying rooted in who we are at our brand’s core. Find your guides, guard against greed’s pull, and remember that maturing isn’t always elegant, but it’s essential. Thank you for reading, and I’d love to hear if and how this made you consider your brand-building efforts a little differently.
Until next time,
Shopé