By Ben Wright (@Iamzavagno | www.xgeeks.co.uk)
This review is spoiler-free.
I went into Wildwood with a mixture of excitement and nerves. I’d been looking forward to this one for so long that I was genuinely worried it might not live up to my expectations. Thankfully, I needn’t have worried. Not only did it deliver, but it also went above and beyond anything I could have hoped for. By the time the credits rolled, I was sitting there with a massive smile on my face, already thinking about where this sits among my favourite animated films. It’s most certainly a contender for my film of the year, and one of the greatest animated films I’ve ever experienced.
Before I get into the visuals, I want to give some love to the storytelling itself. I really appreciated that Wildwood doesn’t shy away from the darker side of life, exploring death, grief and loss without feeling the need to soften everything or wrap it up in an easy happy ending. It reminded me of the kind of darker animated films we used to get more often in the 80s and 90s, where being animated didn’t mean a story had to be made less frightening or emotionally challenging for younger audiences. Not every child will be ready for what this film has to offer, and that’s absolutely fine, but I think there’s real value in allowing younger viewers to experience these emotions through storytelling. Life can be painful and complicated, and animation shouldn’t have to pretend otherwise.
Now, the visuals. Honestly, I still can’t quite comprehend the amount of time, patience and skill that went into bringing this world to life. I’ve had a go at making stop-motion shorts myself during university, and while I enjoyed seeing the finished results, I quickly realised I didn’t have the patience for it. Watching Wildwood, I found myself spellbound by what LAIKA have managed to achieve. We’re talking about 142,030 replacement faces alone, with 2,776 individual shots making up the film. That’s an astonishing amount of work before you even consider the handcrafted puppets, physical sets, costumes and all those little details that make this world feel so alive. And it really does feel alive. The movement is so fluid, the expressions are so natural, and the environments are so beautifully realised that I repeatedly forgot I was watching stop-motion animation.
The final battle was the moment that really got me. The last time I remember feeling that level of awe at a fantasy set piece was watching the Battle of Helm’s Deep in The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers for the first time. It has that same epic scale, the sort of sequence where you find yourself staring at the screen with your mouth open, occasionally remembering you need to breathe. Knowing that every movement has been painstakingly created by hand makes it even more incredible. One of the most complicated flying sequences alone took years of work, and you can see that dedication in every frame. This isn’t just a film that looks beautiful; it’s a film that makes you appreciate the people behind it and what human creativity can achieve when given the time and resources to flourish.
The voice cast deserve plenty of credit too, with Peyton Elizabeth Lee and Jacob Tremblay doing a great job as Prue and Curtis, while Carey Mulligan, Mahershala Ali and Angela Bassett bring real weight to their roles. Charlie Day is a particular highlight for me, bringing the funny and the trauma in equal measure. It’s a brilliant ensemble, and the performances help ground the more fantastical elements in something recognisably human.
The pacing is spot on as well. The opening establishes the tone beautifully, and from there you’re swept into this strange, magical world without the film constantly stopping to explain every little thing. It trusts you to go along for the ride, and I was more than happy to do so. There’s so much to take in, from the bizarre characters to the incredible environments, but it never felt like a chore. I was completely absorbed from beginning to end.
Honestly, I don’t have anything to criticise about Wildwood. My only real frustration is what its potential box-office performance might say about the way we support original films. We hear so much about audiences wanting something different from the endless stream of sequels, remakes and familiar franchises, yet when something as ambitious and painstakingly handmade as this comes along, there’s always the risk that it won’t find the audience it deserves. If we genuinely want more films like Wildwood, we need to show up for them. More than a thousand people contributed to bringing this world to life, and that effort deserves to be seen on the biggest screen possible.
Please stay for the credits, too. Seeing a glimpse of the people and craftsmanship behind the film makes the whole experience even more special. After spending over two hours immersed in this world, I found it genuinely moving to be reminded of the hundreds of artists, animators and craftspeople who poured so much of themselves into creating it. With so much discussion about AI and the future of creative work, Wildwood feels like a wonderful reminder of what makes human artistry so special. There’s a difference between generating an image and spending years bringing a world to life, frame by frame, with this much care and imagination.
Wildwood is a phenomenal achievement in filmmaking and storytelling. Visually breathtaking, technically extraordinary and unafraid to explore the harder emotions of life, this is pure magic from beginning to end. I went in hoping to love it, and came out feeling like I’d experienced something truly special. Please go and see it on the big screen, because films like this deserve nothing less.
