But I think the most powerful part of TGWLTT is the feelings it evokes in the viewer -- specifically, one of powerful yearning, taking the viewer back to their young adult lives where they can explore their past regrets, young flames and missed connections. It's extraordinarily melancholy, and overwhelming, and it takes a believable story with believable characters to make it happen.
Makoto as a character is one that I'd like to see much more of in japanese animation. Her character profile is modest -- she's lanky, short haired, modestly proportioned. There are no gratuitous panty or cleavage shots, and her eyes look like ones that would belong on an actual human being. Her school uniform borrows more from the boy's side. But the animators are as subtle as they are masterful -- in her movements one can find a girlish grace, and her slender legs and miniskirt help uncover the fact that, despite her tomboyish persona, Makoto is, in my eyes, one of the great anime beauties.
Such a statement certainly requires further defense. She's admittedly a textbook genki girl -- she has boundless energy, and unwavering swagger -- at times. The key here is that we get to follow Makoto's life long enough to realize that her mood and energy ebb and flow, and it is in this flow that we discover her vulnerabilities and idiosyncrasies (credit to Riisa Naka -- her voice acting range is beyond incredible).
Therein lies the great mastery of TGWLTT -- Mamoru Hosoda's unparalleled ability to transition from the comic to the tragic. The funny parts of TGWLTT are hilarious, and the melancholy parts downright disheartening. And Makoto's cry -- her big, wet, blubbering cry, is so genuine and out of the blue, that we can't help but cry ourselves.
It's hard not to fall in love with her at the end. It's hard to not want to hold her in your arms, and playfully muss up her already disheveled hair, and tell her that everything's all right.
TGWLTT is a masterpiece, in every sense of the word.
