Lovers of anime, prepare to clear a spot on your list of favourites for writer-director Makoto Shinkai’s new YA sci-fi romance, Kimi no Na wa (Your Name), preferably somewhere along the top shelf. Although the film relies on the rather over-used “body-swapping” concept, Shinkai manages to twist it just enough to wring out maximum freshness, with memorable characters and a story that—though at times a touch on the convoluted side—is emotionally charged and compelling. 

But it’s the animation itself, featuring some of the most arresting handiwork we’ve seen on screen in a while now—jaw-dropping, impossibly beautiful images at every turn—that comprises Kimi no Na wa’s strongest suit, making you want to go back and watch it again and again so you might take in all the details you were likely too dazzled to notice on the first go.

Young Mitsuha (voiced by Mone Kamishiraishi) is a high-schooler in Itomori, a sleepy mountain settlement by a lake in rural Japan. Charming though visitors might find her little town, with its glittering waterfront views, streets that gently slope and curve, pretty red-roofed houses and greenery aplenty—not to mention the rich cultural traditions the townspeople have retained—Mitsuha, for one, can’t wait until she’s old enough to pick up and leave, longing instead to be part of the buzz and energy of a big city like Tokyo. “I hate this town!” she yells after one particularly tedious day, much to her little sister’s surprise. “Please make me a handsome Tokyo boy in my next life!”

It so happens that just such a boy does exist in Tokyo in the form of Taki (Ryunosuke Kamiki), also a high-schooler, although he would argue that his circumstances aren’t quite as covetable as Mitsuha might think. In any case, she’s about to find out for herself. Because one day, followinga major celestial event—a rare comet passing over the country—the two inexplicably wake up in each other’s bodies, with all the shock and confusion expected of something like this. And turns out, it’s not just a one-time thing; the switches are soon occurring frequently and at random. Mitsuha and Taki find that have no choice but to try to make the best of it: even though, after each reversal, they can’t remember each other’s names, they manage to communicate to establish some ground rules through messages left on phones and scribbled on hands and paper, a strategy necessary to ensure they don’t give their secret away (and avoid social suicide on both ends). Eventually, though, the two find that changing places, however disorienting,does have its perks—the sensitivity that Mitsuha brings to Taki’s persona, for instance, proves vital in wrangling him a shot with the cute waitress he’s long wanted to ask out, while Taki helps Mitsuha deal more assertively with bullies at home and at school.

Of course, the longer they spend in each other’s worlds, the closer Mitsuha and Taki get, and the more they yearn to meet each other in person. But the universe, as we can see, isn’t about to let them off the hook quite so easily, and it is at this point that Kimi no Na wa suddenly changes track, flipping our assumptions inside out and transforming into a wholly different creature. 

While the Freaky-Friday premise of the film encompasses fairly well-trodden ground, and might not sound too promising on paper, the trick is in Shinkai’s treatment, his choice of emphasis: Rather than, say, going for the obvious, such as jokes to do with how the main characters deal with their anatomical differences during the body exchanges (save one running gag related to Taki’s fascination with breasts), Kimi no Na wa simply skims over the matter, refuses to give it too much power. That kind of flexible, almost nonchalant approach to gender dynamics is refreshing—this idea that a boy and a girl could slip this easily in and out of each other’s skin; indeed, as we go along, it’s clear that the switches appear to have more to do with personality than rigidly defined gender roles as such. There seems to be a laudable intended messagehere, that we become better, more rounded people when both “masculine” and “feminine” traits combine, and it’s lovely to watch the lines criss-cross and blur.

The plot itself can get extremely baffling on occasion, and a few latter twists feel particularly devoid of logic—but even if you don’t always fully understand what’s going on, you’re still pulled along by the strength of these characters, and the desire to see them safely through this crazy cosmic puzzle. Sure, the hows and the whys are never all too clear, but the connection between Taki and Mitsuha is well established and keenly felt, and it’s enough to stick around for. 

Considerable credit for communicating that connection and further heightening its emotional resonance is also owed to the visuals, which are swoonworthy, to say the least. This is hardly surprising being that the film employs the talents of animator and character designer Masashi Ando, who has previously worked with the animation powerhouse that is Studio Ghibli, and its co-founder Hayao Miyazaki, on a number of features, including Princess Mononoke and the seminal Spirited Away. Each frame is drenched in detail, backgrounds so gorgeously rendered and so realistic that one could very well mistake them for photographs. It’s a nice mix of the old and the new, hand-drawn and digital animation coming together to give us images that are frequently stunning, occasionally sublime, nowhere more evident than in a sequence featuring a long tumble through space and time that crops up around the film’s halfway mark. 

Now and then, Kimi no Na Wa does veer somewhat into saccharine romance, which isn’t particularly enjoyable, especially when accompanied by the effects of an overzealous and often too on-the-nose soundtrack by the Japanese band Radwimps. These few and forgivable blips aside, Shinkai and his team have given us something truly special overall, a real classic in the making, and a highly recommended watch, especially if you’re an anime fan.