How Did Animators Paint Backgrounds For The Ponyo Film?

I still get that kid-at-the-beach feeling watching 'Ponyo', and so much of that comes from the backgrounds being literally painted by hand. The artists used water-based media — think watercolor for translucent skies and thin washes, and gouache or opaque paint for stronger shapes and foam. They built scenes in layers: big washes first, then texture and small highlights, often using dry brush, splattering, or pencil marks to get grain and movement. After painting, the pieces were scanned and composited digitally so the painted paper textures stayed visible while allowing multiplane camera moves and subtle effects for water.

What stands out to me is how the team kept things loose and imperfect on purpose; that slightly sketchy, crayon-like energy matches the film’s playful tone. If you want a quick experiment at home, do big watercolor washes, let them dry, add white gouache for foam, then lightly rub a colored pencil over dry areas for texture, and scan the result — you'll get a little bit of that 'Ponyo' magic without needing a full studio setup.

There's something so warm about the backgrounds in 'Ponyo' that I still linger on them whenever I watch the film — and that's because most of that warmth comes from real, hand-made paints and textures. The Studio Ghibli team leaned heavily on traditional media: watercolor washes for soft skies and distant sea, gouache or opaque paints for the richer, more solid areas, and colored pencils or pastel marks for the little textures and sketchy edges you see close-up. They started from the storyboard and layout stage with color keys and rough sketches, then background painters blocked in broad washes and gradually layered details — wet-on-wet washes for smooth gradients, dry-brush strokes for grain, and tiny splatters, scrapes, or pencil strokes for grit. That tactile approach is why the ocean feels alive and the foam looks like you could run your finger over it.

Miyazaki wanted a playful, hand-drawn energy for 'Ponyo', so you get backgrounds that sometimes look delightfully rough or childlike on purpose. Some of the backgrounds were done by animators themselves instead of a separate background department to keep that immediacy; you can spot lively, irregular lines and hasty color decisions that read as expressive rather than polished. After the paintings were finished, they were scanned at high resolution and composited digitally. The scans preserved brush edges and paper grain, then compositors used multiplane setups to create depth — foreground, midground, and background layers moving at different speeds. Digital color correction and subtle effects (glows, translucency for water) were applied sparingly: the goal was to enhance, not erase, the handmade feel.

I love that mix of old and new. Seeing the background paintings in an artbook or a behind-the-scenes clip is basically like watching someone cook a family recipe — there are flour-dusted hands, little accidents that become flavor, and a lot of love. If you try to recreate it, focus on layers: start with light watercolor washes, add opaques for highlights and foam (white gouache is a lifesaver), then finish with pencil or pastel marks. Scan everything and use blending modes gently to get that luminous, living ocean without turning it into slick CGI. It feels like catching a memory — soft, a bit messy, and utterly human.