THE STORY – After her baby brother is abducted by a murder of crows, headstrong teenager Prue McKeel launches a desperate rescue mission into an enchanted forest hidden just beyond Portland, Ore. Joined by a hapless but loyal classmate, Prue risks it all as she navigates a world of bandits, talking animals and powerful figures driven by grief and ambition.
THE CAST – Carey Mulligan, Mahershala Ali, Peyton Elizabeth Lee, Jacob Tremblay, Awkwafina, Angela Bassett, Jake Johnson, Charlie Day, Amandla Stenberg, Jemaine Clement, Maya Erskine, Tantoo Cardinal, Tom Waits & Richard E. Grant
THE TEAM – Travis Knight (Director) & Chris Butler (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 131 Minutes
Sometimes, when you watch a movie for the first time, you know at a certain point when you’re watching something special, something that will stay with you and, hopefully, stand the test of time for others. As someone who watches over 300 new releases each year, I rarely encounter a film like this. “Wildwood,” the latest film from LAIKA, the Portland, Oregon-based stop-motion studio behind the beloved films “Coraline,” “Paranorman,” “The Boxtrolls,” “Kubo And The Two Strings,” and “Missing Link,” is one of them. For twenty years, LAIKA has pushed one of cinema’s oldest art forms further with every release. But no project has tested the studio quite like this one. Travis Knight, LAIKA’s president and CEO and the director of “Wildwood,” first encountered Colin Meloy’s manuscript years before it was published in 2011. Within a handful of pages, he knew he wanted to make it, but he and the studio needed time and experience before they could bring such an ambitious project to life, for if you’re at all familiar with Meloy’s story (or have seen any of the trailers for this film prior to viewing), you know this is a herculean endeavor in the world of stop-motion. But with the story set in Knight’s hometown of Portland, it’s deeply personal for the filmmaker in more ways than one, so he waited patiently. Over the next sixteen years, the studio made other films, invented new techniques, and solved old problems, gradually becoming better able to bring “Wildwood” to the screen. Longtime collaborator Chris Butler, who wrote “Paranorman,” “Kubo And The Two Strings,” and “Missing Link,” joined the project to pen his first adapted screenplay. Pre-production began just weeks before the world shut down in 2020 because of the pandemic, and cameras finally rolled in 2021. It’s been a long journey, but the wait was wholly worth it. “Wildwood” is an astonishing achievement, even by LAIKA’s already incredible standards, combining breathtaking animation with an epic sweep that made this particular viewer feel like a kid again, completely engrossed in its world, adoring its characters, and walking out of the theater utterly speechless at the sheer spectacle. In short, it’s a masterpiece. Now here’s why…
“Wildwood” opens in late spring in Portland, where headstrong teenager Prue McKeel (Peyton Elizabeth Lee) looks after her baby brother, Mac. After biking through town for coffee and taking Mac to the park on just another casual, beautiful day, Prue watches as a murder of crows flies in, snatches her baby brother up, and carries him into the Impassable Wilderness, a forbidden forest hidden just beyond the city that “outsiders” cannot regularly enter, but Prue is no ordinary individual. She pursues them with her hapless but spirited classmate, Curtis Mehlberg (Jacob Tremblay), who quietly has a bit of a crush on her and tags along much to her annoyance. Inside, the two discover the forest is more than untamed wilderness; it’s an ancient civilization of talking animals, bandits, bureaucrats, and mystics, divided into factions and teetering on the brink of war. The Dowager Governess Alexandra (Carey Mulligan), a grieving mother who commands an army of coyotes, is pushing the forest toward this conflict in her desire to replace her dead son. As Prue searches for Mac, she finds unlikely allies in the Bandit King Brendan (Mahershala Ali), the mighty eagle known as The General (Angela Bassett), and a scrappy rat named Septima (Awkwafina), while also encountering a few more enemies and obstacles along the way. Saving her brother may require the ultimate sacrifice, with the film inviting the audience to ponder, “How far would you go for those you love?”
“Wildwood” checks off a lot of boxes for me as a grand fantasy adventure, with rich lore and a world that feels lived-in from the moment Prue, and we the audience, cross into it. But, like the best fairy tales, its story is grounded in profoundly human themes of grief, love, loss, and the painful struggle between holding on to what you have lost and letting go. Butler’s screenplay smartly subverts several usual genre tropes. Prue isn’t a wide-eyed heroine enchanted by a magical land, nor is she especially likable at first, given how she treats Curtis. She is a teenager in a fairy tale who no longer believes in fairy tales, so focused on getting her brother back that she barely notices the wonders around her, or Curtis’s desire to help her, seeing him more as a liability. Curtis is a nerdy kid who would rather read about adventures than have one. He embraces “Wildwood’s” fantasy instantly, only to discover the heroics he’s dreamed of are extremely dangerous when he’s the one being called upon to be the hero. Curtis shows that heroism rarely looks the way we imagine as kids; it takes other forms than simply wielding a sword and charging into battle. With kindness and empathy, anyone can be a hero and make the world better.
Prue and Curtis’s character growth is essential to making “Wildwood” so relatable, whether you’re an adult or a younger audience member, because the film captures that brief moment between childhood and adulthood when innocence is fading. Still, the world’s possibilities for a better future haven’t fully disappeared yet. Prue is impatient to leave her helpless preadolescent years behind, convinced that growing up means becoming self-sufficient, but through her struggles she learns that courage isn’t the absence of fear, and maturity doesn’t require abandoning the parts of childhood that keep us open to the wonders of the world and other people. Life is complicated, and her relationship with her parents (warmly played by Maya Erskine and Jake Johnson) is tested by Mac’s kidnapping, as Prue gradually learns to see them with greater compassion and understand how complex adulthood can be.
Alexandra is one of the more compelling antagonists LAIKA has put on screen. She may have the silhouette of a fairy tale evil queen, but at least on the surface, she isn’t driven by cruelty or a simple hunger for power. She is a mother who lost her young son and could not accept his fate. Her love has now turned into obsession as she tries to overcome death itself, and in the process of doing so, she has done many terrible things, but understanding where they come from makes her more tragic than a typical cackling villain. In many ways, she is Prue’s dark mirror: both will risk everything for someone they love. But while Prue must learn how to act on that love, Alexandra lets it consume her. The film suggests that refusing to accept loss only creates more suffering, and understanding how we experience and deal with grief might be the ultimate human test of transitioning from childhood to adulthood. Despite the heavy themes already at play, there is more to be found in “Wildwood.” The story also says a lot about power and control in society, as Alexandra’s mission threatens the entire forest and its inhabitants. She is supported by figures who represent obedience, none more than Maksim (Tom Waits), her fiercely loyal servant coyote, who is scarier and more aggressive than any other henchman in a major Hollywood animated film in quite some time.
Prue and Alexandra’s intertwined pursuits are linked to the fate of the forest, with each choice they make impacting all those who call the environment their home. All of these characters are perfectly cast, with several standout performances. Carey Mulligan does a wonderful job humanizing Alexandra, revealing her understandable motives and bringing a dark menace to the character, making her a three-dimensional antagonist for Prue and the forest’s inhabitants who defy her. And speaking of Prue, Peyton Elizabeth Lee absolutely shines as the reluctant heroine, capturing her complex emotions and showing unexpected comedic chops that add much-needed levity to the sometimes grim film. She isn’t afraid to make Prue somewhat unlikable at first, personifying the messiness of adolescence, but she conveys her wit, fierceness, and compassion beautifully. Jacob Tremblay sounds as though he recorded Curtis before his voice dropped, but this also makes him a perfect fit for the earnest, awkward kid who needs to find his inner courage. Awkwafina, no stranger to comic-relief companion roles, brings a fun energy to the resilient Septima. Even Knight’s infant son contributed to the film, providing Mac’s cries during diaper changes. Charlie Day plays Dmitri, a rogue coyote in Alexandra’s army who repeatedly runs into bad luck and, more often than not, ends up inadvertently helping the good guys. He’s an effective foil to Waits’s Maksim, whose proud uniform and intimidating presence communicate the discipline and authoritarian power he represents. Mahershala Ali’s Brendan leads the Bandits who aid Rue on her journey against Alexandra’s army. He’s a formidable warrior who doesn’t seek power the way Alexandra does, but others trust him for his kindness and wisdom. He is the kind of courageous warrior Curtis idolizes, imbued with a calm yet strong sense of humanity by Ali. These characters and plotlines fit clear archetypes, but like any good bedtime story your parents used to read to you when you were younger, they have a calming structure with a mix of comedy and darkness to keep you engaged throughout.
Words cannot do justice to the animation, which is among LAIKA’s most accomplished. The numbers behind “Wildwood” are staggering to comprehend: 233 handcrafted puppets, 132 practical sets, more than 142,000 replacement faces, and 49 animators turned this dream from Knight into a reality, one frame (that’s 24 photographs per second over a 131-minute runtime, the longest ever for a stop-motion animated feature) at a time. And yet, for all the spectacle, facts and figures that went into this mammoth production, what impresses the most isn’t the quantity but the quality of its subtlety. The voice performances are naturalistic and nuanced, rivaling live-action work with characters who hesitate, hold a thought, and fight back tears. Tears appear in 67 shots in the film, more than ten times LAIKA’s previous record, but they serve as earned emotional moments rather than technical showboating. While the human characters feel more organic than any other stop-motion film that’s come before it, the animal characters are just as outstanding. The coyotes move with the weight and flexibility of living creatures who can and will eat you if they get their claws on you, while The General, with her 64-inch wingspan (making her the film’s largest puppet), flies, banks, and dives with grace across the gorgeous sunlit landscapes. Her wings fully open and collapse like a real bird’s, a first for the studio. The sequence where Prue rides on her back is one of the most exhilarating I’ve seen on screen all year, especially if you understand the challenging work it takes to pull off a tricky sequence like this. It may not mean as much without that context, but otherwise, it might as well be akin to watching Hiccup ride Toothless for the first time in “How to Train Your Dragon.”
Then there is the gigantic battle. The nearly 12-minute climax, comprising 411 shots, is the largest battle sequence ever created for a stop-motion feature, with an immense scale worthy of “The Lord Of The Rings” or “Game of Thrones.” Hundreds of Bandits clash with thousands of coyotes amid cannon fire and explosions, yet the action never becomes muddled. Every heart-pounding moment is clear, with a strong sense of geography, and it’s punctuated by the intensity of its violence. Parents should know that “Wildwood” is rated PG-13, and it earns that rating within the first five minutes. The film contains a substantial amount of violence for an animated feature, including character deaths, suicide, bloodshed, and mass destruction. It may not suit the youngest viewers, though preteens will find plenty to enjoy and relate to, while adults will feel transported by the craft on display. The battle sequence is supremely effective not just because the whole film has been building up to it but because hopefully by this point you’re invested in Prue, Curtis, and the others, and because you know these sensational images were created by exceptional artists moving every single one of these puppets in this massive sequence by hand. It’s a jaw-dropping feat for the medium, matched only by another climactic sequence on a vine-covered plinth involving digital ivy.
The film’s scope comes from its seamless use of visual effects, created in partnership with Wētā FX. The team extended LAIKA’s practical sets with vast digital environments, populated crowd shots, and added fire, smoke, waterfalls, and even the aforementioned sentient ivy monster, all while matching the handcrafted look around them. What’s up on the screen blurs the line between what was photographed on the miniature sets and what was created digitally to support them. I genuinely couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began, which is the highest compliment I can pay to all the artists across departments who worked on this. Cinematographer Caleb Deschanel, a six-time Oscar nominee working in stop-motion for the first time, was brought on to bring a live-action filmmaker’s instincts to the film’s visual style, and his contributions show in the end results. He gives “Wildwood” a lush, vibrant look that shifts with the story, mood, and atmosphere. From Portland’s bright streets to the forest’s autumnal colors, every shot feels fully thought out as an essential driver of the story, and alive in ways I’ve never personally seen or felt before.
The Portland setting gives the film a relaxed, cozy feel: hand-stitched sweaters, steaming coffee, denim, and vivid colors all contribute to the detailed production design and costumes. Production designer Nelson Lowry, an Oregon native, highlights the city’s distinct quirks, while the forest draws on real-life locations mixed with the enchanting illustrations from Carson Ellis. Each corner of the forest has its own identity, from the bustling town of South Wood to the Pittock Mansion, Owl Rex’s crumbling manor, and Alexandra’s underground lair, carved deep into the earth. Costume designer Deb Cook and her team are just as thoughtful, dressing more than 200 puppets in ways that communicate something meaningful about the character or the story’s themes. Prue’s slightly oversized blue peacoat, which she gradually grows into over the course of the film, is a nice example of this level of detail and care on display. The coyotes’ ill-fitting Napoleonic uniforms say plenty about soldiers who never chose the roles imposed on them, and Brendan’s humble clothes make him feel more like a leader for the common people than an elevated King.
Dario Marianelli’s majestic score helps the film soar as it swells during the flight and battle sequences, but it’s just as effective in quieter, more intimate moments, filling your heart one moment and breaking it the next. It’s complemented by the film’s immersive sound design. In stop-motion, every sound has to be created from scratch, so no footstep, rustle of leaves, gunshot, or flap of a wing comes from the set. And when you consider the size of the production and how much is involved to bring both the earthly and fantastical nature of “Wildwood” to life, the accomplishment becomes all the more magnificent.
I’ve been astounded by many stop-motion animated films, dating back to my own childhood watching films like “The Nightmare Before Christmas” and “James And The Giant Peach.” I’ve been impressed by and loved recent stop-motion films such as Guillermo del Toro’s “Pinocchio” and Charlie Kaufman and Duke Johnson “Anomalisa.” But “Wildwood” reaches a new pinnacle of stop-motion that will be hard to top any time soon. Knight believes the world is held together by people doing ridiculous things with unreasonable conviction, and the characters of “Wildwood” and the artists whose tireless work over many years helped shepherd his dreams to this defining moment in LAIKA and the medium’s history fully embody that idea; otherwise, this miraculous achievement wouldn’t exist. “Wildwood” brings storytelling and craft together in a special way that reminds you why we go to the movies. Not just to be entertained, but to escape and connect with others and the world around you. It is the finest animated film of the year and the crown jewel in LAIKA’s remarkable, ever-growing legacy.
