Believing in magic as an adult is the stuff of eldritch terror when it comes to the world of LAIKA. The stop-motion animation studio scared the shit out of us with Coraline, a twisted, whimsically macabre web that made a nightmare of the uncanny.
Now, with Wildwood, directed by creative chief Travis Knight, LAIKA once again leans into the dark and extraordinary world of fantasy and magic, this time nestled right across the river from the American Mecca of weird: Portland, Oregon. With handcrafted animation blended with painterly digital tech, the LAIKA team draws you into the Impassable Wilds, a magical realm where the forces of nature cannot be underestimated.
Though a fantasy tale, Wildwood's emotional core lies in reality. And in such a real world, where artificial intelligence is invading systems of creativity like the film's all-powerful ivy, LAIKA's hand-wrought, tactile artistry feels truly remarkable.
Wildwood is a dark coming-of-age tale that sees magic for its darkness and light
From Wildwood's magnificent opening scene, adapted by screenwriter Chris Butler (LAIKA's Kubo and the Two Strings), it's clear this is not a fairy tale for children. Based on the novel of the same name by The Decemberists' frontman Colin Meloy and illustrator Carson Ellis, the film begins with a gothic tragedy involving a governess, Alexandra (voiced by Carey Mulligan), and her only son, one that recalls Tim Burton's Wednesday story "Tale of the Skull Tree" — and it sets the macabre tone for the film. For now, the film brings us back into a safe haven: a cosy kitchen in Portland where teen Prue McKeel (Peyton Elizabeth Lee) is leaving the magic of childhood behind her, despite her parents' (Maya Erskine and Jake Johnson) encouragement to believe.
Tasked with babysitting her brother Mac (Arthur Knight, the director's infant son), Prue's wish for adulthood is cruelly granted when he's kidnapped by a Hitchcockian murder of crows, flown deep into the forest that lies beyond St. John's Bridge. The Impassable Wilds, her father calls them, and along with adventure game-loving nerd Curtis Mehlberg (Jacob Tremblay), the pair manage to venture beyond the mist.
What ensues is a thrilling, dark, and oftentimes uproarious careen into the realm of Wildwood, where the stakes are toweringly high (honestly, don't think your favourite character can't die a horrible death) and the emotional complexity of its residents runs deep. War is brewing, as a ruthless coyote mercenary army and displaced people branded as "bandits" wage bloody land battles within the realm. The conflict affects the entire realm, from an Endor-like avian principality to a grassroots community of mystics ("hippies" Prue calls them). However, there's something even more sinister afoot, and "outsiders" Prue and Curtis must be careful who they trust to get her baby brother back.
As the geopolitical tension of Wildwood comes into focus across the North and South Woods, Prue and Curtis will meet a glorious array of familiar-voiced characters: Brendan the mighty Bandit King (Mahershala Ali), helpful wise-cracking rat (Awkwafina), glorious golden eagle General (Angela Bassett), rage-fuelled coyote lieutenant Maksim (Tom Waits), the flustered yet wise Owl Rex (Richard E. Grant), sage mystic leader Iphigenia (Tantoo Cardinal), fierce warrior Niamh (Amandla Stenberg), snivelling politician's henchman Roger (Jemaine Clement), a accidental soldier Dmitri (Charlie Day), and more.
And at the heart of it all lies someone torn apart by grief, who'll do anything to reclaim what was lost.
Wildwood's extraordinary animation is at once magnificent and brutal
This is LAIKA, one of the most lauded studios working in animation today, so if you're expecting Wildwood to be visually magnificent, you won't be disappointed (and Dario Marianelli's soaring score seals the emotional deal).
Through ancient ruins, coyote-patrolled forests, heaving halls of neverending bureaucracy, and dank dungeons adorned with hanging cages, we're treated to wondrous worldbuilding from production designer Nelson Lowry and superb visual detail from principal character designer Thibault Leclercq, costume designer Deb Cook, and head of character and practical effects Oliver Jones. Frame after frame of sublime, handmade landscapes (there were 132 sets) are populated by 233 unique character puppets, painstakingly brought to life by head of animation Brad Schiff and his small army of animators, with Brian McLean's Rapid Prototype (RP) and Benoit Dubuc's CG Facial Animation teams. And they're all boasting hundreds of intricate costumes from Cook and head of costume Anja Poland.
All shot to perfection by cinematographer Caleb Deschanel and edited by Christopher Murrie-Green, the meticulous detail within each scene is nothing short of extraordinary — from the Bandit King's dreadlocks to Prue's tears (yes, stop-motion animated tears!) to the General's majestic flapping wings — and results in a world so resplendent, so visceral, and sometimes so shockingly violent you'll want to pause the screen or run from it. Within Wildwood, animals and people live alongside each other, with human governors, farmers, and bandits existing alongside rabbit constables, coyote commandants, and bear lumberjacks. The effect is one of harmony, tension, and fascination, with each character rendered with such individuality and detail that you could follow any one of them into their own Wildwood spinoff storyline.
One of the major players in the film, a sprawling, interconnected mass of ivy stretched across the Impassable Wilds, is a feat of animation in itself, with every climbing vine, every veined leaf, moving as one powerful entity. This sense of gravitas extends to every scene in Wildwood, whether animating a rat swimming in a bowl of venison soup or rain falling on emerald mansion steps.
However, nothing compares to one of the most exceptional battle sequences you'll ever see on screen, a masterpiece of animation whose meticulous production boggles the mind. The largest ever created for a stop-motion feature film, the 12-minute battle scene is 411 thrilling, violent, and awe-inspiring shots that are sure to land this film an Oscar.
Wildwood's secret star is the city of Portland
If there's one hidden character within Wildwood, it's the city of Portland, Oregon, America's nucleus of alternative living, where the history of magic has ancient roots.
In Wildwood's Portland scenes, the team hide Easter eggs and references that build a portrait of the city's weird and wonderful elements: from Prue enjoying the magic of Voodoo Doughnut to cycling past drag queen story hour at legendary independent bookstore Powell's. A bagpipe-playing Darth Vader on a unicycle? Yep, we're in Portland.
Within Prue's teen bedroom, inclusions of The Decemberists' posters pay homage to the Portland band whose "The Better Part Of Bravery," lies on the soundtrack — and whose frontman wrote the book Wildwood is based on. Prue's parents are so Portland they won't even say what happened at Burning Man and mention "medical doctors" as a last resort. Yes, it's reductive and stereotypical, but it renders the city a place where it makes sense there'd be a magical wilderness on the other side of the Willamette River.
It's this familiarity that anchors Wildwood in its most brutal moments, knowing a world of war, violence, and magic lies just beyond a city bridge. LAIKA doesn't treat its audience like glass, presenting the cruelty of magic as one of finality, of life and death. Find the biggest screen you can and ride boldly across the bridge into Wildwood, where magic is just as beautiful as it is brutal.
Wildwood was reviewed out of BFI London Film Festival and will hit cinemas Oct 23.