The team at Laika conjure up another incredible feat of storytelling and craftmanship
With Wildwood, Laika delivers another triumph of stop-motion animation, crafting a sprawling fantasy adventure that is as technically astonishing as it is emotionally resonant. Directed by Travis Knight, the film transforms Colin Meloy’s novel into a richly imagined fairy tale where the boundary between the ordinary and the magical is remarkably thin.
The story follows Prue (Peyton Elizabeth Lee), a young girl whose seemingly normal life in Portland is shattered when her baby brother, Mac, is kidnapped by a murder of crows. Joined by her friend Curtis (Jacob Tremblay), she pursues the birds into the Impassable Wilderness, a hidden realm where animals speak, factions vie for power, and war looms on the horizon.
What begins as a rescue mission unfolds into a much larger conflict involving the mysterious Governess Alexandra (Carey Mulligan), whose grief over the loss of her son has driven her toward dark magic and increasingly destructive ambitions. rising up against her are General (Angela Bassett), a giant eagle who rules over the avian folk, Brendan the Bandit King (Mahershala Ali), Septima (Awkwafina, with a thankfully dialed down performance), a rat who forms a bond with Curtis, and Iphigenia (Tantoo Cardinal), an elder of this land who counsels Prue as she strives to reunite with her brother.
At its heart, Wildwood is both an adventure and a coming-of-age story. Prue and Curtis undergo parallel journeys that challenge them physically and emotionally, encountering an unforgettable assortment of allies, rebels, rulers, and rogues along the way. The film balances wonder and danger skillfully, allowing its young protagonists to witness opposing sides of a growing civil war while confronting difficult questions about loss, loyalty, and responsibility.
While it may not possess the soul-shaking emotional impact of Kubo and the Two Strings (at least for me personally), it stands out as the studio’s most ambitious and visually breathtaking achievements. Throughout the film, the recurring thought is simply, How did they do that? Every frame is dense with detail and imagination. Whether depicting a bustling Portland marketplace or the wild splendor of the magical realm, the animation feels alive with movement and personality. The scale of the production is astonishing. Massive battle sequences carry the grandeur of epic fantasy while retaining the tactile quality unique to stop-motion. Every set, puppet, and prop feels lovingly handmade, giving the world a sense of authenticity that digital animation rarely matches.
The action sequences are particularly impressive. Battles have genuine weight and impact; clashes feel forceful and consequential even without graphic violence. The film earns its PG-13 rating through its darker themes and moments of peril, and the horrors of war are never entirely softened. Yet humor is always present to prevent the story from becoming overwhelming. The comedy is often wry and occasionally a tad silly, providing welcome levity amid the darkness.
Much of the film’s emotional strength comes from its exploration of grief. Alexandra’s tragic inability to let go of her son’s death drives much of the conflict, creating a villain whose motivations are rooted in pain rather than pure malice. This darker thread is balanced by themes of family, friendship, and hope. The screenplay celebrates outsiders and rebels, emphasizing the importance of connection and community even in the face of division. An ecological message also runs through the narrative, highlighting the interconnectedness of the natural world and the consequences of disrupting its balance.
Visually, Wildwood is stunning. Caleb Deschanel’s cinematography fills the film with lush, verdant imagery that often resembles the illustrations of a storybook brought to life. The contrast between the familiar real world and the fantastical wilderness creates a constant sense of discovery. Influences from Tolkien, Lewis, Miyazaki, and Guillermo del Toro can be felt throughout, yet the film maintains a distinct identity of its own. Its world, characters, and narrative structure feel fresh rather than derivative.
The sound design contributes significantly to the experience, adding tremendous heft to both intimate scenes and large-scale spectacle. Dario Marianelli’s soaring score elevates the film even further, underscoring moments of wonder, sorrow, and triumph with equal effectiveness. The large supporting voice cast (with too many to name in one review) also brings warmth and personality to every corner of the world, enriching an already vibrant setting.
The end credits include glimpses of the painstaking handcraft that brought Wildwood to life, serving as a reminder of the extraordinary artistry behind every frame. Early in the film, a sign in a Portland marketplace reads, “Enjoy handmade art…before it’s gone for good.” The line feels almost like a mission statement for the film itself. In an era increasingly dominated by digital production, Wildwood stands as a celebration of handmade creativity, imagination, and craft.
Grand, beautiful, funny, dark, and endlessly inventive, Wildwood is a fantasy adventure that rewards audiences with both spectacle and heart. Stay through the credits, marvel at the artistry, and, above all, support the creative hands that made this remarkable world possible.
Wildwood hits theaters on October 23rd
