Wildwood

The latest from Laika Studios is its most ambitious and best yet

The sad contradiction is that much of art needs to have a commercial component to it in order for the artist to continue to create and make a living. Today's film world is a marketplace, where it is not always the most daring pieces of work that get funding or even get the reception they might deserve. However, there are a select few filmmakers who, like the artists of the Italian Renaissance with wealthy patrons, have benefactors and a cash flow that allow them not to think about profitability, only the limits of their imagination. One is Wes Anderson, whose filmography for nearly two decades has been bankrolled by Steven Rales; the other is an entire studio: Laika, which is backed by the Nike fortune. In its history only Coraline (2009) appears to have been profitable, yet all of the studio's films to this point have been critical darlings and nominated for Oscars. Its latest effort is its most ambitious yet, Wildwood (2026).

Adapted from the book of the same name by Colin Meloy and Carson Ellis, Wildwood follows a young girl, Prue (Peyton Elizabeth Lee), who lives in Portland, Oregon. When her two-year-old brother disappears into the woods outside the city, ones her parents have warned her not to venture into, Prue ploughs through bravely, accompanied by the kind if bumbling nerd Curtis (Jacob Tremblay). In these woods Prue discovers an entire world of fantasy with talking animals, evil witches, and warring kingdoms. She discovers that her brother's kidnapping is part of a larger narrative that could put this fantasy kingdom at risk.

Wildwood is directed by Travis Knight, the president and CEO of Laika and scion of the Nike fortune. Knight, however, is not the capricious billionaire's son who seeks a movie studio for fame (ahem, David Ellison, ahem), but rather is in love with stop-motion animation and wants to use the medium to tell stories and push the limits of the art form. His previous animated film was Kubo and the Two Strings (2016), Laika's best film to date, and one that melded mythology with intricately drawn characters. Wildwood, however, pushes everything to an extreme. The ambition on display is absolutely astounding, delivering a two-hour epic fantasy tale on the scale of The Lord of the Rings or The Chronicles of Narnia, but doing so entirely through stop-motion.

The result is that Wildwood is a massive gamble, but one that pays off brilliantly. Stop-motion animation might feel like a chore to some general audiences: an art form that feels more academic and to be admired than enjoyed, its artisanal and handcrafted nature stubbornly at odds with an increasingly digital and AI world. This would be an incredibly reductive way of thinking about the medium, and would make you miss the gems of Shaun the Sheep, Wallace & Gromit, or Chicken Run (2000), but perhaps it is a recognition that with such a physical form of animation comes a certain limit to what you can do. Wildwood blows such an assumption out of the water; it defiantly looks to create as limitless and unrestrained a film as it can. An entire early scene in Portland astoundingly recreates the city in detail, and scenes in water, flight, and chaotic movement are waltzed through with a kinetic camera and daring editing choices. A final battle sequence, in particular, is breathtaking in its complexity, scale, and length, and Knight pulls it off in a way that would make Peter Jackson proud. What lovers of stop-motion appreciate most is the attention to minute detail, as well as the painstakingly long process of literally capturing each individual frame. Wildwood doesn't hold back on any account; whether it be a giant medieval city, a hipster coffee shop, or a teeming forest, every inch of the screen and set is crafted with a passion and care that oozes from the screen.

Yet Wildwood is not just an impressive display of technical ability and creative patience; its story is a gripping adaptation that will remind viewers of the best of young adult fantasy fiction. The bildungsroman has been told eternally throughout fiction, one could argue as far back as the Epic of Gilgamesh in some respects, yet the key is to not tell your story in a rote way, but to deliver a specificity that in turn brings authenticity. Wildwood achieves this, retaining the wonder and cynicism that a tween can feel in their moment of growth. Knight also brings a Spielbergian tone to his film, using humor and affability to make the characters distinct and colorful, helping us see their complexity and depth, and not just the genre clichés.

Knight, as usual, brings together a talented voice cast for his film, and once again they don't come across as simply standing in a booth reading lines for an easy paycheck, but imbue their characters with a history and hidden trauma. Carey Mulligan as the sorceress Alexandra is a particular highlight, as is Mahershala Ali as the Bandit King, but the entire cast gives off the effort and passion that the animators themselves have poured into their figures. The result is a perfect marriage of tone and energy that proves contagious for viewers.

Wildwood is a fantasy blockbuster like the best of its genre; it surely falls into genre tropes and clichés, but it also boldly isn't afraid of going to dark places and destinies for certain characters, bringing a more intriguing and unpredictable dimension to the story. The result is not only a film that is a wonder to behold in its technical craft, but one in which you can get lost in its characters and forests, placed in the shoes of your teenage self again, when courage, identity, and wonder coalesced around the limits of your own imagination.

8.5/10