A young girl journeys into the wild to find her brother and gets caught up in a long-brewing war in Travis Knight’s WILDWOOD. Laika’s magnum opus, based on Colin Meloy’s book, is pure artistry and an astonishing vision. The culmination of decades of work, I implore you to SEE IT NOW.
TW: Suicide, violence, and death to and from animals.
Go see Wildwood now. If it’s out, stop this review and give it your two and a half hours. See it on the big screen and support the pure, majestic artistry of Laika’s latest wowing spectacle. If it hasn’t come out yet, open another tab and buy those tickets. Then you can come back to this spoiler-free sweeping recommendation.
Wildwood is everything Laika has been building toward since they first burst onto the scene with Coraline, bringing nightmares and wonder to kids since 2009. In the intervening years, the Portland-based animation studio has produced several more astounding stop-motion animated pictures: ParaNorman, The Box Trolls, Kubo & the Two Strings, and Missing Link. The last one on that list may be a small step back from the epic Kubo, but it still carries weight and pushed animation forward. While I’m sure Laika will keep making astounding films, Wildwood feels like the culmination of director Travis Knight, who also helmed this year’s Masters of the Universe, and his incredible stable of creators at this juncture in 2026. Laika has always brought innovation and ambition to their films, and this is far more than anything they’ve done yet. A truly mind-blowing epic backed by a powerful, robustly layered story.
One day, a few years ago, I sat down to read the book written by December’s frontman, Colin Meloy, and beautifully illustrated by Carson Ellis (Meloy’s wife, BTW). Four pages in, I thought, “This would be perfect for Laika,” with a Portland-based tween girl’s eye-opening trip into the Impassable Wilderness to rescue her kidnapped brother from a grieving witch, and her entanglement in a long-brewing war between various factions in the woods. Maybe it was the magic and the otherworldly, maybe the art, but something yelled Laika. I can tell you the day: September 19th of 2021, the day before they announced it was in development. Announced, but long in development, as it had been optioned in 2011, after they produced a trailer for the book, as I later found out.
Quite frankly, Wildwood is one of the year’s most impressive features, animated or not. And it’s absolutely the most intense climax, with the culminating battle using 40 minutes of screen time and what looks like thousands (really a few hundred reused) of stop-motion maquettes clashing with insane choreography and power. But I’m getting ahead of myself and your own watching; don’t worry about the details of how and why we got to this astonishing point. I won’t spoil it. Rewinding, Prue is a preteen living on the edge of the Impassible wilderness on Portland’s west side, where no one ever goes in or ever comes out (in the real world, it’s a beautiful area with gorgeous hikes and views). On the edge of adulthood, or at least leaving adolescence, she’s ready to be done with magic and childhood wonder; but it’s not done with her. Warned by her crunchy parents not to take out her toddler brother Mac as they booth a craft fair, she does anyway, ‘natch (on a tour celebrating the wonderful weirdness of Portland). Followed by nerdy outcast Curtis, who clearly wants to be friends with her more than she wants him, they end up in trouble when a murder of crows carries away her brother, and before she can Dance Magic Dance with David Bowie, she’s in the labyrinth of the woods.
Yes, the influences are worn on the sleeve. Alexandra, the villainous witch, harkens back to the White Witch of C.S. Lewis; heck, the magic system and overall feel can’t help but echo Narnia. The whimsy and confusion of Wonderland.The majestic birds and epic battles of Lord of the Rings. A providence Prue finds while looking for Mac, set at the real-life Pittock Mansion’s fantasy counterpart, resembles Terry Gilliam’s Kafkaesque bureaucracies. The whole teems with a reverence for the best of Studio Ghibli (Princess Mononoke especially). I’d be remiss not to note what Malloy clearly loved when he started his trilogy, but Wildwood is far more than any well-read or well-watched fantasy will connect to. The influences are there, but Wildwood has its own epic heart and soul.
Wildwood has a massive soul. It has depth. In the world, the grey areas between all the factions. It has history, told to fill Prue, Curtis, and us in, and felt through lines and looks that hint at long-lost kinships and actions: history and world-building with wisps of political intrigue and depth, just enough to leave us wondering (in a good way). While the vestiges of good and evil are clear, there’s more in between. Alexandra, the Dowager Governess with dark magic, is the villain; there’s no denying that, but her tragic backstory really hits home. It works because we understand this massive fantastical world. When all the factions, the mystics, Alexandra and the Coyotes, the Avian Principality, the South Wood, and their issues, come to a head, it carries immense power and weight. And it makes the violence all the more heartbreaking.
And it is violent. While Laika’s previous output had darker edges and heavier plots, they were still acceptable and entertaining for younger family members. But Wildwood might be reserved for the double digits. As the dogs of war are unleashed, literally, fires burn characters, arrows fill the air and backs, and others are stabbed clearly in the face. With such strong storytelling, each injury and death feels like a blow to us. The continued ramifications of violent acts on one’s soul and conscience, the trauma and grief that are carried, are a recurring point in the film, and Knight makes you feel it. Between the heart-heavy story and the actions that came with it, I can tell you I had tears welling up, often spilling over, for the full length.
The heart and soul extend to the real-world hows. Wildwood is a film filled with sheer love of creation. Knight and Laika have poured their hearts and souls into every inch of the project over 16 years. I simply cannot believe they did this by hand (with CG smoothing and assistance, but no cheats). I have never seen a scale like this. Laika has outdone themselves with the ambition and delight. To put it in perspective: they printed 142,000 individual faces. An eagle, one of countless creatures, has 3,800 feathers. The detail work is enough to want to pause the projector and just stare. It’s shot astonishingly gorgeous; with famed cinematographer Caleb Deschanel, the film aims high, exploring the majesty of what its medium can achieve.
Those visuals are given a voice with the perfectly matched cast. I could go into individual accolades, but just know they are all wonderful; they may be names, but no stunt casting. Each matches the soul of the visuals. Petyon Elizabeth Lee is Prue. Jacob Tremblay voices Curtis. Carey Mulligan is excellent as the villain Alexandra. I loved Tantoo Cardinal as Iphigenia. Anything with Richard E. Grant, here as Owl Rex, gets points. Blythe Danner is the Seer. Charlie Day and Jake Johnson are both on hand, and man, do they sound the same! Jermaine Clement and Awkwafina get laughs. Tom Waits’s growl carries. Mahershala Ali is perfect as the Bandit king. So many more: Angela Bassett, Maya Erskine, Amandla Stenberg, Rob Delaney, Marc Evan Jackson! Whew!
Wildwood is Laika’s magnum opus, an unmatched epic of animation and storytelling. Astonishing in design, deep in character, encompassing in worldbuilding, moving in story, and intense in battle, Wildwood is a feat that will not soon be matched. Travis Knight and his team of thousands put every ounce of their hearts into crafting this true masterpiece. Give them their due and run out to see it.