Isao Takahata’s Hotaru no Haka (The Grave of the Fireflies, 1988) is a brilliant piece of cinema. Set in Kobe, Japan, in 1945, the film focuses on a brother and sister who are left orphaned and homeless by the American firebombing of the city. It is unflinching in its portrayal of the realities of the war, a harrowing account of what such attacks meant for the ordinary people living in the target area. The children’s innocence and love for each other is no defence against the trials they face: their suffering is very real, their story a classic tragedy. That The Grave of the Fireflies is animated rather than live-action does not distract from its power to move, to provoke thought, to draw tears from the eyes. It is a masterpiece.

An adaptation of Akiyuki Nosaka’s semi-autobiographical novel of the same name, The Grave of the Fireflies pulls none of the punches of the source. The novel is a guilt-ridden apology to Nosaka’s sisters, who died during World War II, as did Nosaka’s adoptive father. Survivor’s guilt and a sense of personal failure combine to make the book difficult to read on an emotional level, and the film, scripted by the director, keeps these themes, making it equally emotional viewing.

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