If you haven’t seen Isao Takahata’s 1988 masterpiece, stop here. Not because of spoilers, but because you need to brace yourself. This is not a cartoon. This is not a whimsical Studio Ghibli fantasy like My Neighbor Totoro (which, ironically, was released as a double-feature with this film). This is a two-hour funeral dirge for a nation’s lost innocence.

Studio Ghibli’s art is famously lush, but here, watercolor backgrounds and soft lines create a suffocating intimacy. The red of the firebombs is the same red as the fireflies. The sound design is almost silent—no soaring score, just the drone of B-29 engines, the crunch of gravel under wooden sandals, and the rattle of a tin candy box.

Have you seen Grave of the Fireflies? Did you watch it once, or are you brave enough for a rewatch? Let me know in the comments—but bring tissues.