Mamoru Hosoda might not be a household name in the west, but the Japanese filmmaker and animator has consistently delivered incredible work throughout his career. The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, Summer Wars, Wolf Children, The Boy And The Beast all range from great to masterful, and are totally worth your time, even if anime isn’t necessarily your thing.

His latest film is Mirai, which is about a young boy named Kun (Moka Kamishiraishi in Japanese/Jaden Waldman in English) who has a hard time coping with the fact that he’s now a big bother. After the mother (Kumiko Aso in Japanese/Rebecca Hall in English) and father (Gen Hoshino in Japanese/John Cho in English) bring their new daughter, Mirai, home, Kun begins experiencing visions from the past and future, where he learns lessons that help him become a better brother.

Hosoda has dealt in some similar territory before. Many of his films often deal with families and changing family dynamics. Wolf Children, in particular, springs to mind because of its overt themes of parenthood are a huge aspect of this film as well. Like Tully earlier this year, Mirai doesn’t hold back in exploring the struggles that parents deal with when trying to raise their children. Kun isn’t a very likable character at first, but only in the sense that he feels like a genuine child, warts and all. He’s selfish, he screams, he cries, he’s aggressive, and those traits are made even more intense when Mirai enters the picture.

This one, unlike Wolf Children, offers more of the kid’s perspective. When Kun enters the garden in the middle of the home, he is transported to various places in the past and future. It’s very much his journey we’re in for, and the Christmas Carol-esque structure provides for a just-familiar-enough, yet still relatable and satisfying arc for Kun. Hosoda knows how to apply really small details within the characters to make them feel well-rounded, and with this, he’s able to apply this nostalgic touch. The kind that reminds you of the moments in your childhood that are mundane in retrospect, but far more profound at the time, like the devastation of having your toys taken away, the anxiety of losing a parent in a crowded area, the desire to mimic everything your peers do, even if it’s risky, like how Kun forces his dad to take off the training wheels from the bicycle because he sees others kids in the park riding without them.

It’s worth noting that the screener I received was for the dubbed version, so I can only speak to how the performances are in that context. I normally prefer the original language, but the dub here is really solid. Waldman brings an authentic childlike verve to Kun. John Cho has a great way of delivering humor through the father. And the voice artists behind the characters Kun encounters are given colorful and charming beats like teenage Mirai, who is voiced in the English version by Victoria Grace, and a young version of Kun’s great grandfather, voiced by Daniel Dae Kim. The voice work is rock solid all around, and the Japanese to English dialogue translations don’t have any lines that felt off or out-of-place.

I’ve been a fan of Mamoru Hosoda for a while, and even though he might dwell in familiar thematic territory, he still manages to explore them in beautiful, profound, and emotionally resonant ways. Mirai is no exception. As you’d expect, the animation is stunning – from the painstakingly detailed backgrounds and character movements to the surreal imagery and fantastical flourishes. It’s a effectively told story about the pain and joy that comes with family, be it through parenthood or the relationship between siblings, and how the power of kindness and empathy can keep everything together. It culminates into a breathtaking sequence towards the end that brought me to tears where our characters get to see the seemingly small moments from their relatives’ lives, and how those small moments, no matter if they’re happy or sad, are what passes down to make you who you are. I don’t think I’d even necessarily say this is one of Hosoda’s best, but it is a great film that also happens to be one of his funniest, and it might also be his most personal.