We will all suffer loss; this is one of the few truths we have in this world. How then are we supposed to grabble with this fact? Should we deny it all together? Accept it to the point of rejecting living? Or do we learn about it, accept it, and move on?

Okko's Inn is a family film darker than what you'd expect from an American counterpart, opening with a car crash that kills the protagonist's family and realistically showing the consequences of trauma throughout the film, but that's central to the film's tone, one of the key parts of the film. It's a honest film where characters, particularly Okko herself, don't just forget their trauma the next day or month after it happens. It lingers with them, comes up at the most unexpected moments. Even something as seemingly minor as getting jilted can live an immense impact on you. However, it does not trap these characters into cynicism or eternal pain; it's honest, not bitter. It recognizes that, with love and care, we can get better, learn more about ourselves and others, understand what we truly want from the world. Instead, the film demonstrates that, when you start opening yourself up to others and acknowledge the ways that they have been hurt, only then you can move forward.

The film enhances its tone and message with a beautiful and charming aesthetic. Madhouse really put their effort in depicting the tranquil charm of rural Japan, from the grassy paths to the titular inn that feels as cozy as the ideology behind it states it should be. It is Ghibli-lite to a certain extent but is still able to create its own identity, particularly in the ways it's able to create different senses of movement and corporality. Dealing with both humans and spirits means having to make sure that the movements of each group feel accurate to how they’d work in the real world (you know, if the real world had ghosts and whatnot). More importantly than anything else, it’s just really cute and wholesome. Okko’s an adorable bean and the character design combined with the voice acting give off a strong protective urge, particularly during her more vulnerable moments.

However, it would be remiss if I didn’t discuss the one thing that prevents this movie from being really good, which is its structure. The first two thirds of the movie have a pretty solid episodic narrative, with each small plotline allowing Okko to better understand herself and what kind of person she wants to become while still creating closure or connection with the other people that come into her life. Of particular note here is Glory, a faux-psychic who becomes an older sister figure to Okko, helping her grapple with her emotions while also giving her time to be the happy child that she should be. However, the final third of the film begins to fall apart as there’s a sudden jump to new circumstances that don’t feel entirely related to what has occurred before. While the climax of the film provides a good sense of how Okko is going to treat her trauma moving forward, the final scene leaves me feeling a bit too empty, like there’s just a bit more you can get out of this story.

It's not a perfect film but I’m fine with it that way. It tells the story that it needs to: One about guilt and grief and loss and finds a way to locate what matters to us and to hold onto it.