As a rite of passage young Chun (voiced by Stephanie Sheh) leaves the spirit realm to explore the human world in the form of a red dolphin. Unless she returns home in seven days the doorway will close leaving her trapped. But on the seventh day Chun ends up caught in a fishing net in the midst of a raging storm. Handsome young fisherman Kun (Todd Haberkorn) dives heroically underwater and sets her free but drowns in the process. Upon returning home a guilt-ridden Chun strikes a deal with the Soul Keeper, trading a portion of her immortal lifespan to grant Kun a new lease of life in the spirit realm as a mystical fish creature. Aided by the resourceful white-haired Qiu (Johnny Yong Bosch), who pines hopelessly for Chun even while she remains oblivious, the young girl struggles to hide the newly-reincarnated Kun from her increasingly suspicious spirit family. Only to discover their star-crossed love has a cataclysmic effect upon the spirit realm.
Inspired by the ancient Chinese Taoist folk tome Zhuangzi, though also incorporating several other traditional tales into its narrative, Big Fish & Begonia was a big deal for a Chinese animation industry looking to forge a distinct identity away from the domineering shadow cast across Asia by Japanese anime. Lavishly animated with spectacular and, at least to western eyes, surreal images of floating whales, ghosts, goblins and all manner of supernatural beings cavorting across a kaleidoscopic otherworldly realm the film, together with recent hits Monkey King: Hero is Back (2015) and Ne Zha (2019), was heralded in some quarters as heralding a bold new wave of Chinese animation. However, just as many, including some Chinese critics, lambasted the film for what they saw as ransacking choice motifs from the works of Japanese maestro Hayao Miyazaki.
While it is true certain plot and visual components in Big Fish & Begonia seem to have been styled after key components from Princess Mononoke (1997) and especially Spirited Away (2001) the film still manages to achieve its own identity. Upholding a tradition in Chinese fantasy yarns dating back to Huangmei Opera tales like Madame White Snake and encompassing cherished live-action outings like A Chinese Ghost Story (1987), what starts out as a simple supernatural love story slowly evolves into existential musings on the nature of existence. Touching on life, death, fate, god and the precise definition of love and goodness. At the heart of the film rests a deeply Buddhist view of interconnected lives and how a seeming act of love could unintentionally visit calamity and suffering upon others. What in the hands of the Disney studio would end up a feelgood fairy tale comparable to The Little Mermaid (1989) unfolds instead as a melancholy fable of unrequited love, loss and tragic self-sacrifice as poor idealistic Chun learns the high cost of following her heart. Qiu's plot thread is especially haunting as he repeatedly risks all to help Chun even as his own dreams prove increasingly hopeless. It ends with a post-credits denouement that were it not for the pervading lyrical tone would prove as downbeat as any horror film.
If all this sounds like a bitter pill to swallow, particularly for a young audience traditionally drawn to animated films, frankly it is. But with an aching romantic sincerity likely to charm seasoned Asian fantasy fans. The plot meanders along with an odd lack of urgency, dragging on even beyond the story's obvious climax, but is laden with heady ideas and charming, genuinely inventive incidental details. While the character designs lack personality and come across a trifle bland, Big Fish & Begonia weaves an arresting and richly detailed fantasy world with some stunning set-piece visuals.
