There are animated movies that impress you with their visuals, others that capture your imagination through their storytelling, and then there are those rare films that leave you wondering how in the world anyone managed to bring something so extraordinary to life. LAIKA’s Wildwood is absolutely one of those films. And considering everything this studio has accomplished over the years, that’s saying quite a bit.

I’ve always had a tremendous appreciation for stop-motion animation. There’s something special about knowing that every movement, every expression, and every seemingly insignificant detail required an actual human being to painstakingly manipulate something tangible, one frame at a time. It’s an art form that demands a level of patience and dedication that most of us probably couldn’t begin to comprehend. Yet somehow, director Travis Knight and the ridiculously talented artists at LAIKA have taken that already impressive craftsmanship and elevated it to heights I genuinely didn’t think were possible.

And the craziest part? The animation isn’t even the only reason this movie is so damn good.

Wildwood is a remarkable achievement in filmmaking, a sprawling fantasy adventure filled with imagination, heartbreak, danger, and some of the most stunning stop-motion animation I’ve ever witnessed. It’s easily one of the best films of the year so far, and quite possibly the most ambitious animated feature I’ve seen in a very long time.

A Journey Into the Unknown

Based on the novel by Colin Meloy, Wildwood follows 12-year-old Prue McKeel (Peyton Elizabeth Lee), a young girl living in Portland, Oregon, whose relatively ordinary life takes an extraordinary turn when a murder of crows kidnaps her baby brother. Yes, you read that correctly. Crows.

Determined to bring him home, Prue ventures into a mysterious and supposedly impassable forest alongside her reluctant friend Curtis (Jacob Tremblay). What begins as a desperate rescue mission quickly becomes something much larger as the two discover a hidden world populated by talking animals, warring factions, magical creatures, and a growing conflict threatening to consume everything around them.

At the center of that conflict is Alexandra, the Dowager Governess (Carey Mulligan), a grieving mother whose inability to accept the loss of her son has transformed her sorrow into something far more dangerous. Her obsession with bringing him back threatens not only the inhabitants of Wildwood but the delicate balance holding their entire world together.

It’s a fascinating premise that introduces some surprisingly mature ideas about grief, obsession, and the emotional consequences of refusing to let go. We’ve heard the familiar sentiment that grief is simply love persevering (ahem, Marvel). But what happens when that love becomes something destructive? When the pain of losing someone consumes every other part of who you are, until there’s nothing left but desperation?

Wildwood isn’t afraid to explore those uncomfortable questions, and the results are considerably darker and more emotionally affecting than you might expect.

Stop-Motion Animation Has Never Looked This Good

I genuinely cannot overstate just how beautiful this movie is.

Since Coraline first introduced audiences to LAIKA’s wonderfully strange imagination back in 2009, the studio has consistently demonstrated an extraordinary understanding of what makes stop-motion animation so special. Films like ParaNorman, The Boxtrolls, Kubo and the Two Strings, and Missing Link have each pushed the medium forward in their own ways. However, Wildwood feels like the culmination of everything the studio has learned over the last seventeen years.

The sheer scale of this production is almost impossible to comprehend. We’re talking enormous forests filled with individually crafted foliage, sprawling landscapes that stretch beyond what should reasonably be possible with physical sets, and intricate character designs that somehow maintain an incredible amount of personality through the smallest movements.

The animation of the armatures is absolutely mesmerizing. From the subtle shifts in a character’s facial expression to the way a creature moves through its environment, everything feels remarkably fluid and alive. There’s a tremendous amount of personality in the smallest gestures, and the animators deserve an unbelievable amount of recognition for making these characters feel like living, breathing individuals. At times, I genuinely forgot I was watching stop-motion animation. Then I’d remember what I was looking at and somehow become even more impressed.

There’s a sequence involving a massive eagle that perfectly demonstrates the level of ambition we’re dealing with here. Knowing that animator Dobin Yanez reportedly spent more than four years bringing that creature to life makes the finished result even more astonishing. Four years! On one creature! That’s the kind of dedication that separates a technically impressive animated film from something that deserves to be studied and celebrated for generations.

The environments deserve just as much recognition. The forests themselves feel like characters, filled with personality, history, and a remarkable sense of scale. Every leaf, branch, and patch of moss contributes to a world that feels simultaneously enormous and intimately familiar. LAIKA also manages to incorporate its affection for Portland throughout the film, with delightful nods to local landmarks and culture that give the adventure an unmistakable sense of place.

As someone who loves the artistry behind filmmaking just as much as the finished product, I found myself constantly distracted by how incredible everything looked. There were moments when I wanted to pause the movie just to appreciate the craftsmanship, which is a pretty remarkable accomplishment considering how invested I was in the story itself.

A Voice Cast Worth Getting Lost in the Woods For

Of course, even the most beautiful animation in the world can only take a film so far without characters worth investing in. Thankfully, Wildwood has an exceptional voice cast that brings an enormous amount of personality and emotional depth to its fantastical world.

Peyton Elizabeth Lee is fantastic as Prue, delivering a performance that perfectly captures the stubborn determination of a young girl who refuses to accept that something is impossible simply because the adults around her say so. There’s a confidence to Prue that makes her immediately endearing, but Lee also allows us to recognize the vulnerability beneath that determination. After all, she’s still a 12-year-old girl who has suddenly found herself responsible for saving her brother while navigating a world she barely understands. That combination of courage and uncertainty gives Prue an emotional authenticity that makes her journey incredibly easy to invest in.

Jacob Tremblay provides an excellent counterpart as Curtis, whose enthusiasm for imaginary adventures doesn’t necessarily translate into confidence when confronted with actual danger. Curtis is the kind of kid who dreams about being a legendary warrior until someone hands him a weapon and expects him to use it. Tremblay finds plenty of humor in that contradiction, but he also gives Curtis a genuinely satisfying journey as the character begins discovering what courage actually means.

Carey Mulligan, however, might just deliver the film’s most impressive vocal performance. Her portrayal of Alexandra is easily one of the film’s greatest strengths, and I would argue she’s responsible for creating one of the most emotionally devastating animated villains in recent memory.

What makes Alexandra so compelling isn’t simply her willingness to commit terrible acts. It’s that Mulligan allows us to hear the broken mother beneath the monster. There are moments when her voice becomes almost soothing, filled with a tenderness that suggests the person she once was. Then, without warning, that warmth gives way to a chilling determination that makes it painfully clear just how far she’s willing to go.

It’s an incredible performance that makes Alexandra simultaneously terrifying and heartbreaking. You understand why she’s suffering and might even sympathize with the pain driving her actions. But understanding someone’s grief doesn’t mean excusing the destruction they leave behind. That distinction becomes one of the film’s most powerful emotional threads.

The supporting cast is equally impressive, particularly Mahershala Ali as Brendan, the Bandit King, who brings a commanding presence to a character I desperately wanted to spend more time with. There’s so much personality throughout this ensemble that even characters with relatively limited screen time manage to leave an impression. It’s one of those casts where you can tell everyone understood exactly what kind of movie they were making, and their performances are all the better for it.

This Isn’t Your Typical Family Adventure

Something else I absolutely loved about Wildwood is its willingness to get a little nasty. By a little, I mean quite a bit. This is LAIKA’s first PG-13 feature, and the filmmakers clearly weren’t interested in earning that rating simply for the novelty of it. The world of Wildwood can be genuinely brutal, which makes its more whimsical moments all the more interesting.

There are vicious confrontations between animals, disturbing imagery, bloody battlefields, and moments of violence that caught me completely off guard. One particularly memorable exchange involving a foul-mouthed coyote quickly escalates into a confrontation that makes it abundantly clear this isn’t the kind of animated adventure where every character walks away from danger with nothing more than a few scratches.

I found myself audibly reacting to several sequences, sometimes because the animation was incredible and other times because I couldn’t believe what I had just witnessed. It’s certainly not what most audiences are probably expecting from a studio known for creating beautifully strange family films, but I appreciated the filmmakers’ willingness to embrace the harsher realities of the world they’ve created.

What I appreciate most is that the darker material doesn’t feel unnecessary or included simply to shock audiences. It serves the story and reinforces the reality that the inhabitants of Wildwood are fighting for their homes, their families, and their survival. There are actual consequences to the decisions these characters make, and the film doesn’t shy away from showing them.

Wildwood also understands that animation doesn’t need to soften difficult subjects simply because younger audiences might be watching. Loss, violence, sacrifice, and moral uncertainty are all explored with a surprising amount of sincerity. I think the movie is considerably stronger because of it, especially when so many animated films are hesitant to venture into uncomfortable territory.

An Epic That Occasionally Has Too Much to Say

As much as I absolutely adored Wildwood, I do think its greatest strength occasionally becomes its biggest obstacle. There’s just so much happening.

At 132 minutes, this is LAIKA’s longest feature to date, and even with that generous runtime, the filmmakers are attempting to juggle an enormous amount of narrative material. Prue’s desperate search for her brother, Curtis finding his place in an unfamiliar world, Alexandra’s increasingly dangerous obsession, the political divisions between Wildwood’s inhabitants, and the mysterious magic holding everything together are all competing for our attention.

That’s before considering the various factions and supporting characters who deserve considerably more exploration than the film can realistically provide.

I particularly wanted more time with the Principality of the Birds and Brendan’s bandits. Both groups introduce fascinating elements to the world, and their relatively brief appearances left me wondering how much more there was to discover. It’s one of those rare situations where I wasn’t necessarily frustrated by the amount of story being told. I was frustrated that I couldn’t spend another hour exploring it.

There are certainly moments when the narrative feels stretched across too many ideas, and a few character relationships could have benefited from additional development. Still, even when the storytelling becomes a little crowded, the film never loses the emotional foundation holding everything together.

At its heart, Wildwood is about the people we love, the lengths we’re willing to go to protect them, and the painful realization that sometimes loving someone means accepting what we cannot change. That’s a surprisingly powerful message for a film that also features talking animals going to war, but somehow LAIKA makes it all work.

LAIKA Has Created Its Magnum Opus

I think what ultimately makes Wildwood such an extraordinary experience is that you can practically feel the love poured into every single frame. It’s a love for animation, storytelling, fantasy, and the strange and wonderful possibilities of cinema. More importantly, it’s a love for an art form that continues to survive because talented people refuse to accept that there’s an easier way to accomplish something remarkable.

Stop-motion animation has never been particularly convenient. It’s expensive, time-consuming, and requires an almost unreasonable amount of patience. In an industry increasingly concerned with producing more content in less time, the very existence of a film like Wildwood feels worth celebrating. What makes this achievement so special, though, is that LAIKA hasn’t simply created something technically impressive. They’ve created something genuinely moving.

There’s a beautiful contradiction running throughout the film’s exploration of grief and perseverance. Alexandra’s inability to let go becomes her undoing, while Prue’s refusal to surrender becomes the very thing that gives her journey meaning. The difference lies in understanding when determination is an act of love and when it has become something destructive.

That idea is beautifully captured in a conversation between Prue and her father near the film’s conclusion, when he reminds her that sometimes we need to recognize when it’s time to let go. Her response is simple: she’s glad she didn’t.

After spending more than two hours witnessing the extraordinary work that Travis Knight and the artists at LAIKA have accomplished, I couldn’t help but feel the same way about the studio itself. Somewhere along the way, a group of incredibly talented people decided that creating an enormous fantasy epic through stop-motion animation was not only possible but worth the years of painstaking work required to make it happen. I’m certainly glad they never gave up on that ambition.

Wildwood is a breathtaking accomplishment that soars beyond nearly every expectation I could have imagined for the medium. Its remarkable animation, exceptional voice performances, emotional storytelling, and unapologetic ambition make it one of the most impressive cinematic experiences of the year. For all the technical wizardry on display, what makes the film truly special is how much humanity exists within something created entirely by hand.

I’ve seen plenty of animated films that made me laugh, cry, or appreciate the artistry involved in bringing their stories to life. Very few have made me sit there in genuine disbelief at what human beings are capable of creating. Wildwood did exactly that, reminding me why I’ve always been so fascinated by the people who dedicate their lives to making movies.

LAIKA didn’t just raise the bar for stop-motion animation. They reminded us why that bar is worth raising in the first place.

Rating: 5/5 atoms

Wildwood is playing in a theater near you.