Since 2009, Laika Studios has left its mark on the industry thanks to its output of critically acclaimed stop-motion films. Every feature they’ve released received a nomination for Best Animated Feature at the Academy Awards, racking up a considerable amount of prestige and expectations around their work. As the likes of generative AI closes in on cinema and artistic pursuits at large, Laika’s latest feature, Wildwood, feels like a beacon we’ve so desperately craved in this dark time for art. 

Based on the novel of the same name, Laika began developing Wildwood in 2011 and officially announced production in 2021. Needless to say, it’s been a long, winding road to get to this point where audiences get to experience the film. It’s a thrill to say it was more than worth the wait. Wildwood is t a landmark achievement for the medium of animation, and for cinema at large.

The epic tale begins when Prue McKeel (Peyton Elizabeth Lee) takes her baby brother Mac out of the house despite her parents’ insistence that they stay inside. While playing at the park, a murder of crows swoops in and abducts Mac, taking him into a hidden and impassable forest. With the help of her classmate Curtis (Jacob Tremblay), Prue ventures into the woods and discovers a dark and magical world waiting for her.

Wildwood spares no detail in building out its world. Even the regular streets of Portland, whichPrue calls home, have a grand scope, teeming with life and vibrant personality. Production designer Nelson Lowry, known for his work on ParaNorman (2012), Kubo and the Two Strings (2016), and Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009), rises to new heights with his work here. The production design evokes the great fantasy epics that came before while carrying its own distinct identity, bolstered by rich, autumnal tones. Deborah Cook’s detailed costume design rounds out the world, infusing distinct cultures and identities for its people.

Despite all its beauty, there’s darkness lurking around every corner, and Wildwood doesn’t dare shy away from that. The catalyst for that darkness stems from Alexandra (Carey Mulligan), the former dowager governess mourning the death of her son. Her grief transforms into powerful dark magic that permeates the once glorious wood.

For every whimsical moment and anthropomorphic animal, there is bloodshed and brutality. Not one single character feels safe in this adventure. It feels like a rarity for mainstream animated films to receive a PG-13 rating nowadays, but Wildwood earns it, and with intention.

Beneath the fantastical, Wildwood is a story of the harsh realities of growing up. At the beginning of the film, Prue doesn’t indulge her father’s (Jake Johnson) tall tales of magic. She dismisses Curtis’ offer to play a fantasy game, claiming she’s not a child anymore. Meanwhile, Curtis himself yearns to be a hero like in his fantasy games. Both children are confronted with the reality of their aspirations in the woods, though. There is a weight that comes with being a hero or even just a regular adult. Being brave is beautiful, but it also carries a weight.

Which then begs the question: how does one continue on in a world that was once so bright? When you’ve seen death, pain, grief, how do you still find room for joy? It’s refreshing for an animated film to embrace heavier subject matter, making the thematic experience all the richer.

Laika Studios

The themes ring loud and clear because the characters are nuanced and dynamic due in large part to an impeccable ensemble voicing them. Prue will join the likes of Coraline Jones in the pantheon of dynamic heroines. Lee brings a grounded maturity to Prue that collides with an earnest warmth throughout the film.

Prue’s counterpart, Curtis, receives an endearing, adorkable quality from Tremblay. It’s a bittersweet thrill to watch Curtis become brave, simultaneously earning the right to be called a hero and shedding his innocence altogether.

Mulligan delivers one of her darkest turns yet as Alexandra. Every syllable is coated in an unthinkable amount of pain. This is a woman who doesn’t care who she hurts as long as she can get her son back. Mulligan does a brilliant job of unleashing this darkness while making you fully understand and empathize with the pain. It’s a complicated and dynamic antagonist that soars in Mulligan’s capable hands.

Angela Bassett, Mahershala Ali, and Tantoo Cardinal all throw themselves into the strange and wondrous characters full force. Not a single soul phones it in and commits to the overall vision.

Wildwood might feel familiar to fantasy aficionados. It speeds through some beats to maximize its hefty runtime, and sometimes the exposition begins to weigh on you, but it manages to make every second count and deliver a fantasy that is up there with some of the great titles in the canon.

There are battle sequences that rival some of the most iconic pieces of fantasy film. I was left wondering how they possibly pulled it off. It’s gruesome and emotionally impactful, pulling you upright in your seat. Director Travis Knight and cinematographer Caleb Deschanel do things with the camera that I’ve never seen done in a stop-motion film. Dario Marianelli’s sweeping score elevates these already staggering moments. He simultaneously evokes the epics of yesteryear while crafting something entirely its own.

Things feel so uncertain in the industry and the world at large. Wildwood functions as a response to all of it. It’s crafted by human hands to wondrous and defiant results. What it achieves technically is the new ceiling for animation, a lofty height that studios may never aspire to again. 

Wildwood is a film about bravery but not in the traditional sense. We cannot control the world around us or how it deviates from our idea of it. As the movie states, there is a time to hang on and a time to let go. It’s scary to let go. But it’s also so brave to do it. 

Whether we’re talking about art and cinema or our personal lives, we may not want to let go, because what if we never get it back? How lucky are we, though, that we got it at all?

Review Courtesy of Adam Patla

Feature Image Credit to Laika Studios