THIS endearing, visually stunning Japanese animation goes a long way to prove that universal stories can be told in a distinctive fashion.

Kun (voiced by Moka Kamishiraishi) is a spirited four-year-old boy who has so far enjoyed all the singular love and attention that comes with being an only child. His parents are credited only as Mother (Kumiko Aso) and Father (Gen Hoshino) – a small detail that speaks to the film’s themes of seeing the world through a child’s eyes.

Things change drastically upon the arrival of his new baby sister named Mirai (the Japanese word for “the future”). His parents dutifully attend to the newborn; understandable to us but the end of the world to a child suddenly no longer the centre of attention.

One day the tantrums subside as Kun begins to envision a magical garden within the house his architect father has built. It’s there he sees a teenage version of Mirai (Haru Kuroki) who has seemingly travelled back in time to help him cope with having a baby sister and the responsibility that comes with it.

This is a beautiful film, dazzling and bold yet gentle-hearted in the ways it goes about presenting its world. It freely flows between the recognisable everyday (scenes of Kun’s stubborn behaviour around the new baby is hilariously familiar) and fantastical leaps both into the past (talking to his mother as a young girl and late great-grandfather) and the possibilities of the future.

The influence of legendary Japanese animation powerhouse Studio Ghibli is evident, as it often is with films of this stylistic shade. However, director Mamoru Hosoda finds idiosyncrasies and thematic truths both in the little moments and on the grander scale that makes sure it stands on its own two feet.

It’s an incredibly imaginative film at times, mixing visual styles from traditional painterly scenery to a transporting sequence that brings to mind the complex framework of inside a computer. Despite its suitability and relevance for a younger audience, it’s not afraid to push things a bit, not least in a later stage sequence aboard a train which speaks to animation’s ability to showcase realism under the guise of cute family-friendly storytelling.

It’s also a tremendously affecting watch that manages the difficult balance of being utterly heart-warming without ever tipping over into being unnecessarily saccharine.

Accompanied by Masakatsu Takagi’s angelic score of soft pianos and choral soaring, it affectionately explores the love and need for family, the wonders of childhood imagination and, most of all, the inherent bond between siblings. Simply lovely.