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The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences will expand its three-month celebration of anime with a screening.

It’s akin to straying into a cartoon. From the sun-drenched yellow walls, to the maze of spiral staircases and miniature archways beneath painted-dome ceilings – not to mention the oversized furry cat bus and a towering robot loitering in the roof garden – the scene would not look out of place in a raft of animations. However, it is in fact one of Japan’s very real anime gems: the Ghibli museum.

Japan, the birthplace of anime, has been a master of the cartoon art form since producing what is believed to be Asia’s first animation in 1917. With a style initially inspired by Japanese painting and calligraphy, the nation’s prolific cartoon productions began booming in popularity among overseas audiences from the 1980s.

Today, it’s a huge part of Japanese culture. Anime lovers think nothing of queuing around the block (often dressed as their favourite characters) to watch the latest film release.

The Ghibli museum is for anyone who has ever appreciated the beauty and imagination of Japanese animation. Its founder is Hayao Miyazaki, a Japanese artist and director who won legions of awards for the films produced by his company, Studio Ghibli.

Among a long list of critically acclaimed works are Spirited Away, the tale of a girl whisked away to a spirit world in a bath-house, Porco Rosso, with its debonair anti-fascist pig pilot protagonist, and Princess Mononoke.

Studio Ghibli’s latest film, released this weekend in the UK, is Arrietty. It tells the tale of a family of “Borrowers”, and is based on the characters in the books by Mary Norton.

Audiences should brace themselves for the lush water-colour visuals that have become the signature style of Studio Ghibli productions, where computer graphics are shunned in favour of hand-painted cartoons.

It is such a world that Miyazaki has attempted to recreate at the Ghibli museum. Despite its name, it bears little resemblance to conventional museums. There’s not a minimalist white wall, “don’t touch!” sign or black-suited security person in sight.

This is deliberate. Outlining his vision for what he did not want this museum to be, Miyazaki said: “A pretentious museum. An arrogant museum. A museum that treats its contents as if they were more important than people.”

Instead, he said he wanted it to be “a museum that is interesting and which relaxes the soul… a building where the breeze and sunlight can freely flow through”.

The sweeping staircase at the entrance leads into the main lobby of the house. The exhibition space on the ground floor is devoted to the mechanics of animation. A string of models of Ghibli characters speed up and slow down in various displays: there is the robot from the film Laputa surrounded by blue flying birds, and a colourful 3D zoetrope depicting a spinning cast from My Neighbour Totoro.

As I wander up to the first floor, another cartoon-like scene shifts into focus: it’s a cosy office crammed with an array of fantastical objects, from plane models and flying dolls to antique globes and teetering piles of references books.

“Ah, there’s Arrietty!” exclaims one Japanese girl to her friends. She is pointing at an image of a pretty, pint-sized young girl with a swinging pony tail, red dress and defiant expression among hundreds of hand-drawn sketches adorning the walls.

Instead of loitering behind conventional museum barriers, visitors can sit at the desks, leaf through photo albums or read a book.

Some small children are drawn to an area where scenes from Studio Ghibli’s films have been recreated. In one room sits the giant furry cat bus from My Neighbour Totoro in which visitors can sit and look at the passing scenery.

Another highlight is wandering around the maze of gardens and terraces and finding a spiral staircase which leads to the roof – where a startlingly large robot from Laputa stands among the flower bushes.

Perhaps the best part comes at the end: a 10-minute screening of an original Miyazaki anime in the in-house Saturn Cinema, complete with children-sized red seating and a ceiling painted with a smiley moon and sun.

Later, sitting in the Straw Hat Café, I tuck into a cooling Japanese pear ice cream while watching other visitors. There are countless children – but perhaps the happiest smiles of all can be found on the faces of the anime-loving grown ups. –Daily Mail

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