"Memories Falling Like Tears" - this is a more literal translation of the title of Studio Ghibli's classic anime "Omoide Poro Poro", better known as "Only Yesterday" in English. Having finally got around to watching it, I was left with a couple of burning questions: "why the heck did I take so long to get to this" and "how did they manage to pick such a lacklustre English title?"

While the Japanese title comes off as a tad overdramatic, there are obvious cues that could have been taken from its encapsulation of the narrative structure of the film as well its potential to pain a vivid, poetic image which "Only Yesterday" completely fails to capture.

What it should have been called is "Memories Falling Like Raindrops".

"Omoide Poro Poro" drops in on the life of Taeko Okajima who remains unmarried as she approaches her late 20s. She decides to take a trip to the country side, away from the hustle and bustle of Tokyo where she works, to visit family and help out with the safflower harvest. During the trip, she starts contemplating how her life is going and becomes increasingly nostalgic as memories from her childhood begins to surface.

The narrative weaves between the flashbacks of Taeko's early life and her trip in the present time, making use of contrasting art styles to distinguish between the two timelines: the style of the present timeline looks normal, while the past uses a washed out colour palette, like an old watercolour painting with its colours faded by the passage of time. It's hard to overstate just how ingenius this technique is for illustrating the scenes from the past, as it creates an incredibly fitting visual metaphor for the nature of memories. What's more, the fading isn't applied discriminately: it's only the scenery that's fading out at the edges of the shot - the people from Taeko's memories remain substantial.

At first, the frequent flashbacks to Taeko's childhood may seem a little scattered, with topics covering everything from her relationship with her sisters and her parents, to her yearning for the countryside as a child, to growing up, hitting puberty, and the changing dynamics between the boys and girls of her class. But taken as a whole, the vignettes begin to resemble a real-life autobiography, a minute examination of who Taeko is as a person while also providing the context to give the story of her present life an overarching sense of purpose.

And in her present life, Taeko finds fulfilment working alongside farmers, friends and family, forming strong bonds with people around her, particularly with a young man named Toshio. There’s a palpable sense of disconnect between the path she has trodden so far as an adult and the direction in which her heart tugs at her. The persistent trickle of her memories throughout her trip seems to coalesce into a torrent, carrying her inexorably towards a crossroads in her life where she would have to make an important decision.

The present timeline showcases one of the many unusual things about "Omoide Poro Poro": the music. It is one of the very few anime to feature Eastern European folk music, which it uses to great effect to accentuate Taeko's time in the country side. (Amongst the artists featured on the soundtrack is Gheorghe Zamfir, whose music has graced big Hollywood movies such as Tarantino’s Kill Bill.)

In case it's not clear yet, "Omoide Poro Poro" is not a typical anime; it's not even typical Ghibli fare. The film is full of oddities, from its adult woman protagonist to its introspective subject matter to the understated execution that's the antithesis to the loud and flashy style that people often associate with anime. No wonder the film rarely gets brought up in the same breath as the likes of "Spirited Away".

Despite the quiet, unassuming style, "Omoide Poro Poro" possesses a hefty emotional weight. For anyone who cares to listen, it whispers resounding truths about the period it's set in as well as the growing pains and human nature relevant to any period. The stories told by the film feels effortlessly believable, and the characters portrayed lifelike - the latter elevated by some remarkable voice acting that's bursting with personality while remaining naturalistic. And so it came as no surprise to me to learn later that the original source manga was semi-autobiographical in nature. Many of the story elements are rooted in the era the story is set in, and the anime doesn't always hold your hand. One particular episode from Taeko's past involving her father puzzled me (as it did many Japanese viewers too, apparently), but I felt compelled to google for an explanation as I found myself so emotionally invested in the story.

I was expecting "Omoide Poro Poro" to be good, but I must admit I wasn't expecting to be utterly blown away. The film contains plenty of impactful moments, but saves its best till last. Just as the anime is winding down, with the ending credits starting to appear on screen, it delivers one of the most emotional endings I've ever seen. Set against the achingly familiar strains of an old American song - but given a fresh breath of life by the Japanese lyrics - the last scenes powerfully bring to life the central message of the anime: there are times to let your past guide you, and there are times to just let it go.

I watched "Omide Poro Poro" at a turning point in my own life, and was deeply affected by the film; it may even be my favourite Ghibli film to date. Or at the very least, certainly the most underappreciated one. If you're looking for something a bit different, if you're in a mood for a mature, reflective drama, then "Omide Poro Poro" has my full-hearted recommendation.