Laika's Most Ambitious Feature Yet (Wildwood review)

 

Laika has made a handful of stop-motion animated movies (some people consider it claymation) over the years, setting the studio apart from most animation companies. Unlike most of these companies, their work involves many years of handcrafted work, from character design to the careful puppetry of their movements. Their new feature, Wildwood, based on the children's novel of the same name by Colin Meloy and Carson Ellis, is an epic fantasy adventure about a young Prue who must enter the mysterious woods near her hometown with her friend Curtis to find her baby brother, Mack, who has been taken. 

Seemingly more PG than Laika's other features and significantly longer in runtime, Wildwood takes several liberties in both animation and, to an extent, mature themes that they are usually used to and manages to captivate viewers in exciting ways. 

From several aspects of puppetry and claymation, the ideas are the most complex they have done thus far. There are several, not one or two, too many to count, sequences where I am personally left wondering how they could have pulled that off with this animation style. It also makes sense why Travis Knight, who previously directed the studio's Kubo and the Two Strings, took almost 16 years to develop this feature. There are times you almost forget that this is claymation, and when you do remind yourself, you are left in awe. 

The writing is not the biggest strength overall. Still, there are several points where Chris Butler's script is executed with intention, and it is portrayed well here, given how dark the story presents itself and how it is addressed by its characters, especially those from the outside looking in. It does not shy away from establishing that Prue and Curtis are aware of fairy tales, folk tales, and pop culture, and use their knowledge to their advantage as they explore the world-building in Wildwood. This speaks to many of their reactions and choices, whether of their own volition or otherwise, and is handled in a way that comes off as relatable. 

Some can argue that Coraline or ParaNorman were darker, and to an extent, they were. Still, there is something about how death is being shown in real time here, especially in its opening minutes, that proves that Wildwood is setting a standard, at least for previous features that Laika has made, which makes sense why the PG rating was necessary. 

This comes to mind in the way Peyton Elizabeth Lee portrays Prue as a 12-year-old girl who wants to grow up, is thrust into the fairy-tale world she dismisses, and learns that even when you do not embrace childlike wonder, life does not get any easier, even when adulthood seems more appealing. In fact, life gets harder, and hope is more fleeting. On the contrary, Jacob Tremblay's Curtis, who romanticizes what it means to be in a fantasy setting amid an impending war, is given a reality check: being a hero or savior in such a setting causes a loss of innocence rather than creating valor and glory in an individual. Their contrast creates such nuance in the plot, which I find so refreshing even if it is in a familiar approach. In this genre, there is almost a sense of satisfaction and relief; even within its realism, some hope and optimism are present. 

What I also find fascinating, especially in a medium like this, is that the adult figures, whether human or anthropomorphic animals, who surround the children are not only selfish but also don't live up to their promises. It is very present with both sides of portraying parental figures, from Prue's parents to the Dowager Governess's decisions; a grieving parent can be easily blinded by the blur between what's right and what's good, which I think is not a better lesson but rather a separate one within this genre that is refreshing, as we have for so long accepted characters idolizing their absent parents. 

Most importantly, Travis Knight has learned from his already forgotten but jarring mistake in Kubo to craft a narrative that does not question the representation of his characters but instead goes all the way to make it exceptionally inclusive. Even if in subtle ways, these hints speak volumes about how the people in this narrative reflect a modern world, despite its Anglo-inspired fantastical elements.  

Nonetheless, Wildwood is Laika's most exciting adventure yet and their most ambitious project to date. It is meant to be seen on the big screen and deserves it, considering its more epic proportions. It definitely works for the Halloween season and should manage to appeal to family viewers. I know I say this a lot, but it's hard to deny this as a big frontrunner to win Best Animated Feature at the Oscars next year.