Gorgeous to look at and undeniably (gulp) charming, this heartfelt fantasy strongly deserves the stateside release Bandai is giving it.  Originally bowing in Japan in 2006, Toki wo Kakeru Shôjo is the latest installment in a live-action/pop music/literary franchise that dates back at least a couple of decades.  But have no fear:  if you’re a newbie like me you’ll have no problem following the story as it represents one of those oxymoronish deals, the stand-alone sequel.

With her mix of goofiness and sass, high school student Makoto is certainly likable, as are her two baseball-playing (read: platonic) buddies.  So from all initial indications, The Girl Who Leapt Through Time appears to be headed into light-hearted, coming-of-age territory.  That is, until a harrowing incident at a railroad crossing throws our protagonist headlong into a grand, metaphysical mystery.  I’m probably not giving much away by saying that Makoto becomes a girl who can, well, leap through time.  In a nice touch, the verb “leap” is not used figuratively, but literally—she jumps, flips, dives, stumbles, and soars, sometimes with grace, sometimes with clumsy abandon.  Once she finds that she can go back in time, a series of familiar-feeling Groundhog Day-style episodes ensues.  For a brief spell I was concerned that the movie would remain stuck in that vein and I’d be pummeled by repetitive whimsy for the rest of its run time, but director Mamoru Hosoda and screenwriter Satoko Okudera have more than a few surprises up their sleeves.

While the movie predictably verges toward both science fiction and romance, there’s a darker strain that runs throughout and creates a somber, decidedly adult tone.  We get a subplot about bullying, recurring themes of alienation and isolation, and yet another white-knuckled railroad crossing scene.  Moreover, in the second half of the film there’s an elegiac strain born of regret and remorse that’s beautifully done—understated and yet infusing all of the drama and lending it much greater weight than your typical anthem to teen angst.  The visuals contribute strongly in this department, with key scenes punctuated by long vistas of dusk on the horizon, a kind of visual metaphor for the passing of youth or perhaps loss in general.  And then there’s the wonderfully versatile score by Kiyoshi Yoshida, which, like the rest of the film, sports a deceptively light touch.

Bandai is releasing The Girl Who Leapt Through Time in a dubbed version in New York and a subtitled version in Los Angeles.  I’ve seen the former, and the English language cast is quite good, particularly Andrew Francis as the male lead Chiaki Mamiya.  My advice is not only to go and see The Girl Who Leapt Through Time if you’re an anime fan (it’s won several major awards), but also to bring a friend along.  That’s because it’s the kind of time-travel movie which, like the mind-bending Primer (2004), really requires some mutual debriefing afterwards.  In the process you might uncover what look like some cheats or gaps in logic, especially towards the end of the movie, but trust me, they probably won’t detract too much from all the pleasures to be had here.