Director: Travis Knight
Voice Stars: Peyton Elizabeth Lee, Jacob Tremblay, Carey Mulligan
When Travis Knight – son of Nike’s own Michael Knight no less – was recently quoted as having said, “AI is not a tool, AI can go fuck itself” I kind of loved him for that. Being the son of one of the most successful businessmen in American history seems like the perfect opportunity to rest on one’s laurels, enjoy the nepotism and bypass hard work or ethical standpoints (especially because, y’know, Nike). But the younger Knight’s dedication to the rigorous, hand-crafted toil of stop-motion animation has proven itself out repeatedly. If anything’s been passed down, it’s been the strong work ethic. People who like shortcuts don’t dedicate huge portions of their lives to this kind of artistry. And while CG is most certainly used in Knight’s films to bolster the frame-by-frame model work, the commitment to the medium is readily evident up there on the screen, particularly here in Wildwood. Between those comments and this film, Knight’s almost earned a pass for his atrocious live action Masters of the Universe misfire earlier this year.
Wildwood is adapted from Colin Meloy’s novel series of the same name as illustrated by Carson Ellis, whose character designs are elaborated on here for an extraordinary delve into a fantasy world that borders the hipsterish suburbs of Portland, Oregon. Knight and screenwriter Chris Butler have just as much fun gently mocking the city’s leftist inclinations, presenting it (faithfully) as a broad community of big knits, bohemians and buskers. It is home to the McKeels (Jake Johnson, Maya Erskine), their teenage daughter Pru (Peyton Elizabeth Lee) and toddler Mac (Arthur Knight – carrying the nepo torch, all burps and gurgles). One chilly afternoon having been told to stay at home, Pru disobeys her parents and loses Mac to a murder of crows who take-off (literally) with the boy, headed for The Impassable Wilderness to the North; rolling woodland hills that are forbidden and magical lands. Sidekicked by the timid and dorkish Curtis (Jacob Tremblay), Pru races into these uncharted wilds in search of her little brother.
The two are quickly separated by circumstance, and through their individual exploits we come to piece together a larger war happening within Oregon’s rolling forests. Initially offering an olive branch of aid, the Dowager Governess Alexandra (Carey Mulligan) is quickly revealed to be behind the birdnapping, while Curtis finds himself vertiginously imprisoned with a ragtag bunch of brigands led by Mahershala Ali’s broad-shouldered Brendan. In the fantasy world of Wildwood animals have as much voice and agency as people, so Alexandra is flanked by an army of marching coyotes, while Pru and Curtis make friends of eagles and rats respectively, and a lot more creatures besides. Awkwafina lends voice to one comedy side-character, but makes it one of her less irritating contributions to animated cinema. Meanwhile, Amandla Stenberg is gifted a great supporting role voicing Niamh, right-hand to Brendan who feels drawn directly out of Pam Grier’s Blaxploitation heyday (extremely complimentary). Indeed, one of Wildwood‘s triumphs is the attention to detail grafted into the expansive array of characters. All distinctive, all there for a reason.
In terms of storytelling, Wildwood does sit comfortably within a heritage of fantasy works, and little here feels genuinely innovative on a narrative front. You can feel how it picks from Tolkien, and visually from Jackson, Miyazaki, del Toro and even George Miller. Where innovation does come is in the presentation. Laika has a benchmark when it comes to slickness, evidenced in prior successes like Coraline and Kubo & the Two Strings. Wildwood blows right past those milestones, however, particularly when the third act calls for – and delivers – intricate, fast-paced and grandiose battle sequences that simply beggar belief. At these maximalist points, it’s hard not to look upon the team’s accomplishments as an astonishing technical achievement in stop motion storytelling. Moments throughout tilt to other cinematic masters. Mac’s abduction cannot help but evoke Hitchcock’s The Birds, while Pru’s late altercation with a particularly disgruntled and persistent coyote features snapping jaws as frightening as Jim Cameron’s xenomorph queen. As with Kubo before it, Wildwood defers to a lineage of animated fantasy that isn’t afraid to be scary. The 12A certificate is a smart choice; younger ones might find some of the movie’s darker edges as difficult as the sprawling running time, which glides over the two hour mark.
But – as something of a fantasy cinema sceptic – the sheer impressiveness of this undertaking counteracts any world-building familiarity or the occasional tropiness of the comic relief characters. I had feared that, for all the obvious visual prowess, Wildwood would feel professional but mercenary. Mechanical, even. That it doesn’t is a testament to the amount of hard graft, effort and love built into the bones of the thing. As with Kubo, the end credits feature an indulgent but fascinating look behind the scenes, and again it’s well-earned. Knight wants us to understand and appreciate the process as much as the result. The sentiment in sharing this only backs up his recent statements against AI. As entertaining as the movie is, it stands for something even more appreciative. Sometimes getting lost in the woods is worth it. The journey is more rewarding than the quick route round the edges. After all, think of everything you’d miss.
