Just like the traditional braided chords spun and wound together at the Itomori shrine, Makoto Shinkai masterfully weaves together an emotionally impactful narrative that leaves the viewer’s heart feeling full to the brim, while longing for so much more at the same time. That is the ambivalent brilliance of his 2016 animated film, Kimi No Na Wa (Your Name). Shinkai shines as an animator through this film because of his attention to the cinematic elements that the film is composed of, and how he raises the standard for visual storytelling even with his seemingly traditional style of animation in a saturated digital world.

Kimi No Na Wa centers around Taki and Mitsuha—two high school students who each lived average and routinary lives: one, as a country girl, dreaming to uproot herself and venture out into the bigger world outside her little pocket of a rural town; the other, a jaded city boy, living the conventional hustle afforded to one living in the urban jungle that is Tokyo. Until fate itself decided to intervene and have them swap bodies, and by extension, their lives too. What follows is a tale of adjusting perspectives, unexpected self-discovery, a journey to finding the truth, and finally, the unlikely possibility of finding yourself through somebody else.

Upon watching the Kimi No Na Wa, the best word that could describe the stylistic direction of the film is impressionistic — especially in how it takes familiar spaces, and effectively evokes emotion from them. A major factor to this is just how big of a movie it is. Off-the-bat we are shown the view of an expansive sky evening sky with a comet hurtling down into a fairly large view of a lake town (which we will learn later to be Itomori itself). This will be a common visual scheme in the film, as we are guided through the streets and traditional architecture of Itomori on one hand, and then looking up into the glimmering skyline of Tokyo on the other. This helps establish the thematic element of grandeur, helping viewers see that we are all connected in the bigger scale of things. Shinkai also makes use of “lighting” techniques in the film. By incorporating blends of lighting and effective usage of shadows in the animation, such techniques help impress a natural vision of the spaces we see. The experience, then, of watching the film becomes especially immersive. Just like Mitsuha, we begin to excitedly experience arguably mundane things with a glimmering appreciation and awe.

Another important element that contributes to the overall experience of the film is the music used. Going through the whole movie one can’t help but feel that the flow of the film is guided by the music itself. From the beginning of the anime-style opening track, the whole score of the film is beautifully interwoven in the scenes so much so that it almsot feels essential to the viewing experience. True enough, Shinkai revealed in an interview that work on the actual animation of the movie was done hand-in-hand with the creation of its music (of which he worked closely with the RADWIMPS on). I would even argue that the whole mood of the film would change drastically if there were to be change (hence why the announced Hollywood live-action remake makes me feel apprehensive, but that is besides the point).

Overall, I believe that Kimi No Na Wa is the epitome of storytelling done right, and it beloved across a diverse array of audiences universally because of the fact. On the most basic level, Shinkai proves through his craft that when you pay close attention to how things are interconnected (whether thematically or cinematically speaking), you are bound to create — or even discover — something truly special.

Despite the glitz and glam Hollywood top-grossers have filtered before our eyes when it comes to the idea of cinema, an unsaid burden placed on the shoulders of filmmakers today is to project on the silver screen the hard-to-swallow realities of the world we know. As creatives, filmmakers are challenged to repaint certain subject matter in such a way that translates well on the movie screen and the eyes of the common viewer. In 1990s, ingenue director Danny Boyle took up this challenge — and then Trainspotting was born.

Trainspotting is a 1996 black-comedy and is the second film ever made by Danny Boyle. A film adaptation from the book of the same name by Irvine Welsh, the film follows the life of Mark Renton, a heroin-addict, and his dysfunctional band of friends, as well as the shenanigans that ensue because of the fact. Throughout its duration, the film shows viewers, in a stylistic way, the world in the eyes of someone with the odds pitted against them, and draws the fine line between the hard struggle of drug addiction and the everyday life of a drug addict during even harder times.

What stands out to me when it comes to Trainspotting is how the film makes use of certain screen techniques in order set an impression of the subject matter, instead of obviously setting a specific stance regarding drugs in the writing. I especially liked its outlandish use of colors in indoor scenes (such as whenever we’re in the flat of Mother Superior). The contrasting hues and lighting contribute to the surrealist tone of the film, letting viewers experience to an extent the escapist intentions of these characters, especially in the context of substance use. This is especially poignant when contrasted with the bland, almost normal look of outdoor scenes, furthering the juxtaposition of the “real” world and the “surreal” these characters construct for themselves.

Another element that contributes to the discussion of film themes is the cinematography. specifically in the use of wide shots and shots of cameras-in-impossible-places. The wide shots help emphasize how the film is more than just the story of Renton, and instead helps us see Renton in the space he’s in and how this contributes to his attitude towards the world. Through these shots we see the bland colors of Edinburgh, and the dull look of the people and places surrounding our characters (a world they escape through the color-inducing high of Heroin). The use of fluid movement of the camera and the unique use of close-ups (such as that in the “Worst Toilet in Scotland” scene, or under the blankets in the withdrawal scene) help give an impression of viewers imposing on these characters. It gives us an opportunity to scrutinize these characters and their actions, similar to when we see strangers doing things we aren’t supposed to see. This style of filming gives the film a more self-aware touch, leaving viewers the chance to make their own value judgments regarding the characters and their motives

Overall, I appreciate how Danny Boyle (like many filmmakers in the independent scene) takes on the challenge of elevating the discussion of taboo or looked-down upon topics — in this case, to repaint what we know of this infamous “Trainspotting” generation. Obviously there is so much more to unpack from this beautifully layered film (from its use of music, to understanding the characters themselves, but I think the most important takeaway from Trainspotting is how it takes such a delicate subject matter like substance abuse and spins it to create inspire emotions like sympathy among its viewers, all the while refusing to sacrifice innovation with its cinematic elements.