Your Name.

★★★ 1/2 out of ★★★★

Your Name. (2016) [Japanese title: 君の名は。]

Runtime: 106 minutes

MPAA: Rated PG for thematic elements, suggestive content, brief language, and smoking.

The amount of detail writer/director Makoto Shinkai has put into his film is stunning yet terrifying.

He does not need to go that far to animate the GPS pin's speed as Taki scrolls out of the map, or remove the tree beside the bridge in Itomori, in a later picture. The amount of care and attention to his work speaks volumes, and this is one of the best-looking animated films in quite a while. How he controls the shading, how he animates the mist for faraway mountains, and the tiny little billboards in urban cities are scarily on point.

As for the film itself, movies like "Your Name." are a puzzle to review. How well "Your Name." works really depends on whether or not you believe there is a special connection between the two main characters. I understand people who disliked it, because on a surface level, it seems like the romance that blossoms between Taki Tachibana (Ryunosuke Kamiki) and Mitsuha Miyamizu (Mone Kamishiraishi) is too quick and unconvincing. After a recent rewatch (since Suzume recently dropped in theatres), "Your Name."'s strength lies in its ambiguity, while its powerful, emotional moments hit in such a profound manner you may need a tissue or two during its final stretch.

After a dazzling sequence wherein a comet fragment falls from the sky, and a narration about time and dreams, we cut to a room. Mitsuha wakes up abruptly from her sleep, but it's not actually her. As we learn, a 17-year-old high school boy from Tokyo, Taki, is now inhibiting the body of a girl of the same age in a remote town, Itomori. Yotsuha (Kanon Tani) comes into her room, noticing that she's acting strange again. Mitsuha (Taki) then disrobes in front of the mirror and looks in shock and disbelief.

When she goes down for breakfast, Mitsuha is apparently back to her original self, and many people around her like her sister, grandmother, and friends comment that she was acting very strangely the day before. While walking to school, she meets friends Sayaka Natori (Aoi Yûki) and Katsuhiko Teshigawara (Ryo Narita), and walks across a campaign speech by a local mayor, who's Mitsuha's estranged father (Masaki Terasoma).

Everything, besides a baffling notebook message, seems to return to normal. Mitsuha is constantly mocked by several by-passers, whether it's that she's the daughter of the local mayor, or she has to perform a Miko ritual for the family shrine. She and her friends are bored of the town and complain that it's small, uncomfortable, and does not have facilities like an urban town like Tokyo. After performing the ritual that creates "Kuchikamizake", Mitsuha runs down the stairs and exclaims, "I hate this town! I hate this life! Please make me a handsome Tokyo boy in my next life!"

Perhaps the comet granted her wish, because she wakes up exactly as that. This is where the genius lies in the first act of the film. Instead of making something clichéd, Shinkai takes the idea of body-swapping, explores how difficult it is to live other people's lives, and develops it into something much more. Taki (Mitsuha) fumbles on the way to school, does not know his classroom, forgets to bring lunch, and has no idea where he works too. As a waiter in an Italian restaurant, Taki (Mitsuha) also realises that being a Tokyo boy may not be as easy as it seems, frequently making mistakes on the job.

A hysterical sequence of Taki and Mitsuha frequently swapping bodies also plays out. This is where the romance between them blossoms. It may look brief, but it happens because they experience each other's lives, help each other out, find each other's happiness, and occasionally have a little fun crossing each others' boundaries, whether it's overindulging in savoury food or attracting male classmates. Once Taki attempts to contact Mitsuha, we're also hit with an unexpected plot twist that changes the story but maintains the same momentum.

Another amusing thing throughout is the unique, distinctive personalities each character possesses whenever they're inhibiting the other's body. Little things like incorrect accent, pronouns, tendencies, behaviour, or insults fired at each other make them easier to understand and relate to. Frequent collaborator RADWIMPS, who spent over a year to compose the music like "Zenzenzense" (前前前世) or "Nandemonaiya" (なんでもないや) also provide catchy tunes and relatable lyrics about them searching for each other, no matter the circumstances.

Later scenes become more visually dazzling and build to something so satisfying that it doesn't matter whether the aspect of Mitsuha struggling with her town life feels brief and underdeveloped, or that a sudden, punctuating sound repeats a tad too many times. The tension and emotion gradually builds into a perfect ending that sums up what we care about, fight for, or even when the mind forgets, the heart remembers.

So, does it work? Well, it entirely depends on the viewer. On one hand, I understand people who found this a rambling mess that feels distancing. Just believe that they're fated lovers connected by the red braided cord early on, and several final scenes will leave a lump in your throat. Like the best directors around, Shinkai is urging us to see this again, but from a different point-of-view that allows us to resonate with the story. "I feel like I'm always searching for something, someone." The characters sense an incomplete part of their lives, as if their heart is reminding them of someone, someplace, or something they connect to. Perhaps they'll find solace with each other. Maybe it is what it is because so.