Joshua Chovan

“There is no happy ever after.” “No, but there is happy right now.” From the very first scene, Wildwood (⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️) punches you in the gut, plants both of its feet in the ground, and demands that you buckle up. Make no mistake, this is not a children’s film. This is a war epic. As the latest installment in LAIKA’s impressive filmography, there is a distinct shift in this film where I went from thinking “how is this possible” to “this is impossible, what I’m watching is magic”. The stop motion animation is breathtaking and brings a world of magic to life so vibrantly. It is my honor to give this film the 5 star treatment; this is filmmaking at its finest. When the world is asking “do we need AI to make film?”, Wildwood shouts back “hell no”. The story here follows the McKeel family in Portland, Oregon, just beyond the mythical Impassable Wilderness. Eldest daughter Prue is instructed to always keep her baby brother Mac inside, but when she takes him for a simple babysitting adventure, he is shockingly abducted by a murder of crows. Mac disappears into the Wilderness, with Prue and her unwilling companion Curtis in hot pursuit. Prue manages to part the ivy covering the entrance, promptly finding herself immersed in a magic world beyond her own. The world of Wildwood is in the middle of a complicated political conflict, with its human and animal citizens divided into militarized factions. Dowager Governess Alexandra commands a brutal battalion of coyotes following her exile, as she is wrought with grief over the death of her son, whom she is hell-bent on resurrecting. Wildwood is visually stunning, the world beyond the Impassable Wilderness is created with such beauty and diversity. Each area has its own style and personality, perfectly suited for the unique inhabitants. There’s bureaucratic government buildings, a suspended aviary village, a heavily guarded coyote fortress of tunnels, a mythical wooded spiritual realm, the list goes on and on. It is mind-boggling to think that all of these sets actually exist somewhere. Seeing the credits roll with brief glimpses of how this was all brought to life over years of painstaking work was literally awe-inspiring. The film’s beauty is met in equal measure by the film’s brutality. This is an alarmingly violent film, and makes me wonder when was the last time I saw an animated film make such strong use of a PG-13 rating. The entire final act, where all out war breaks out on multiple fronts is a feast for the eyes. By land, by air, by hand to hand combat, by gunfire, by trebuchet and cannon, there is nothing they cannot do. Death is a constant and visceral presence throughout this entire movie. It pulls no punches. I will never understand how they did this and I do not want to, it’s part of the magic. Beyond the beauty of the animation work is the beauty of the story itself, about sheltering your loved ones and becoming consumed by grief. It’s a story about parenthood and how parents will do anything - literally anything - if they think it means protecting their child. It’s a kind of love that makes people do unspeakable and unimaginable things. I don’t want to spoil anything here but all of the finger pointing and blame that goes around for what causes the central conflict of this film is all centered around this highest level of love. It’s a movie full of people who are unable to accept the fact that, on a long enough timeline, every story becomes a tragedy. Happiness has no promise of permanence. It’s what made the quote at the start of this review resonate so much for me. This is not a world of happy endings, because there are none to be had, but if you can let go just the right amount to let yourself be happy right now, maybe that’s enough.