
Upon watching Suzume, I wanted to give Your Name a rewatch (since it’s been seven years) so I could rank Shinkai’s films properly in my head. 3/4 of Goblin House originally watched this film in the cinema together when it came out in 2016. Jock remained the only one in our group of pals who hadn’t seen it yet, and got to watch it for the first time last night.
And, uh, wow.
I’m very glad I didn’t remember the movie too well, because it hit me so much harder this time around, like a brick to the face. I knew the basic plot points, but I was a little fuzzy on some extremely impactful parts, and I essentially got to experience them for the very first time again. (And I cried so, so hard. It was that extremely rare kind of cry that few have ever seen from me.)
In all of Shinkai’s other work I’ve seen, he seems to have a firm grasp on these huge, incommunicable emotions, and he uses fantastical elements in his story to showcase them and make those feelings come across beautifully. What I appreciate about this film in particular is that it’s the only movie I’ve ever seen that feels things as big as I do. Your Name exquisitely captures this deep, endless longing for another over time and distance and space. It captures the emptiness, the incompleteness of missing another. And, through the lens of memory alteration, something much more ineffable.
Your Name is a beautiful and severe emotional experience. (Mild spoilers) The main characters share a level of intimacy between each other not truly achievable without magic by literally living in each other’s bodies. They are forced into each other’s extremely different lives and must learn how to survive in such a strange environment. They get to know each other’s friends, families, and neighborhoods on a very intense level. Because they are forced into such an intimate perspective, they have the ability to love each other in ways that are hardly imaginable through their mystical union.
Through these characters, you get to experience a plethora of intense emotion: a longing for a life you’ll never truly have, the yearning for someone and something that was never truly your own, the relief and overwhelming joy of being loved, and the heart-shattering devastation of being forced apart over a distance so immeasurable and infinite. You experience the fear and heartache of death and devastation, sweeping waves of hope, growth through understanding another, and so many bittersweet missed connections.
I really appreciate the devices of fate and time and how they are used in the story. It’s a truly remarkable piece of work and I keep tearing up over and over again as I write this. When the credits (and tears) rolled, Jock turned to me and said, “thank you for showing me my third favorite movie,” and honestly, I think I’m right there with him. Not only is this a visual work of art, but on an emotional level, it might be the first time I have felt truly understood.
I’m now wishing I had a higher rating than gold, than “I loved it.” But what icon could I use for “this movie changed my life?”
Rating: 📀 I loved this movie.
My best friends and I (known affectionately as Goblin House) have a regular movie night where we all sit down together and watch a movie one of us has chosen. Most of these reviews will come from a Goblin Movie Night, so they will be tagged with the nickname of the Goblin who picked the movie.

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