“There is good magic in this world — and its shadow.” So says a wise and dapper-looking owl to the practical girl who leads Laika’s triumphant new film, “Wildwood.” A stop-motion work of artistry adapting Colin Meloy’s 2011 fantasy novel of the same name, the film works its own variety of magic, from the impressive animation to the wide-reaching, propulsive breadth of the story.
Prue (voiced by Peyton Elizabeth Lee) believes she’s too old for magic. She knows the fairy tales and the folk tales her father tells her about the Impassable Wilderness outside their home in Portland, Ore. But she pays them little mind — that is, until one day her baby brother, Mac, is abducted by a murder of crows in a Hitchcockian flurry of black wings and taken to the very woods her parents warned her about.
Then Prue, along with a nerdy classmate (Jacob Tremblay) whom she picks up along the way, ventures into the woods to find a community of anthropomorphic animals, bandits and a woman driven to dark magic by grief. The two become caught in the middle of a long-simmering conflict poised to become a devastating war.
All the way to its unpredictable conclusion, “Wildwood,” directed by Travis Knight with a screenplay adapted by Chris Butler, keeps its foot on the pedal for a fast-paced adventure that is equal parts magic and misfortune.
At the heart of this tragedy is the Dowager Empress Alexandra (Carey Mulligan). Mulligan’s performance of the character, a woman whose ambition is poisoned by an unshakable grief, brings ample touches of humanity to what could easily have fallen into the simple evil queen trope. Mulligan’s just one of many perfectly cast voices for the film, including the general of the nation of birds known as the Avian Principality (Angela Bassett), Brendan, the leader of the bandits (Mahershala Ali), Septima (Awkwafina) and Owl Rex (Richard E. Grant).
In the woods that are home to the birds is the grandiose Pittock Mansion, another focal point of this expansive setting: There’s a Tolkienesque scope, with each locale its own unique world. There’s also plenty of Tolkien’s influence in the action, as well as a fantastical mix of “Coraline,” “Narnia” and, for emotionally bruised millennials in the know, the “Redwall” series. Which is to say that even in this wondrous world of talking animals there’s still the blood and violence of war.
There are real narrative stakes, best demonstrated in a monumental 11-minute “Return of the King”-style battle sequence that drives the film right to its climax. But for all of the movie’s familiar fantasy points of reference, “Wildwood” never feels predictable. It confidently guides the audience through the world without too much narrative mapping; we, like Prue, are thrown into the Impassable Wilderness and asked to figure things out along the way.
There’s a ferocity of detail down to the architecture of the film, the rich diversity of materials and textures (forestry actually composed of basalt, granite, aspen, birch; hundreds of costumes carefully scaled, dyed, stained and sewn). In addition, over 142,000 replacement faces allow the stop-motion characters a seemingly comprehensive spectrum of expressions, all beautifully exaggerated by the painterly, emotive lighting from the cinematographer Caleb Deschanel. A film taking about 230 puppets across 132 sets, “Wildwood” is most remarkable for its lively, verdant woods, but, for the brief times we see Portland, is just as convincingly grounded in the character of its eccentric city setting. When Prue rides her bike through downtown, some signature landmarks like Powell’s Books and Voodoo Doughnut make cameos.
The composer Dario Marianelli elegantly vibe-checks the film’s tonal shifts and suits the sound to the setting. For example, a funky, driving rock song will take place in Portland while a folksy, bohemian tune will be heard in the forest. Colin Meloy, the “Wildwood” author and frontman of the indie rock band the Decemberists, also provides a perfectly paired original song to the movie’s soundtrack.
In a world of A.I., reboots and repeats, it feels quietly remarkable to encounter a film whose every frame — every stitch of clothing, every feather, every leaf — is so painstakingly rendered by human hands. That’s fitting for a movie whose hero finds out that there’s magic hiding in her everyday life: Here, too, the enchantment of “Wildwood” is the ambition and expertise demonstrated in every frame.
Wildwood
Rated PG-13 for whimsically morbid themes and animated violence. Running time: 2 hours 2 minutes. In theaters.
Discussion about this post