The Wild Robot

Stranded on an island after her freighter was caught in a storm, Roz (Lupita Nyong’o), or more formally ROZZUM unit 7134, travels the forest looking for a task.  The woodland creatures are all frightened of her giant, humanoid form, and when she accidentally crushes the nest of a mother goose, she becomes even more feared.  There was one survivor of the accident, Brightbill (Boone Storm, later Kit Connor), the runt of the nest.  Roz, stretching beyond her programming, assigns herself the task of getting Brightbill ready for the migration in the fall, but becoming a mother is not as simple as she initially believes it will be. 

Chris Sanders adapts Peter Brown’s The Wild Robot for Dreamworks, bringing the Universal-owned animation studio a lovely 102-minute, cross-quadrent tale.  Debuting at the Toronto International Film Festival, general audiences did not need to wait long for the film’s theatrical release.  Opening wide on just shy of 4,000 screens, the heartfelt film quickly endeared itself to audiences starved for a genuine family film, and even more starved for one that does not adhere so stringently to the Mouse’s style guide in both visuals and story structure, therefore offering something new and exciting to audiences both young and old. 

Ritchie Sacilioc leads the art direction in the translation from book to screen, and he involves a luscious color palette of deep greens and flowing blues, accented by a glowing purple from Roz, alien, yet natural like the northern lights.  It is the chrome plating of Roz which stands out in this world of natural wonder, but it is purposeful as one of the many messages of the film is how we find our place and overtime, the elements begin to take their toll on Roz’s factory finish and she begins to look, well, more wild.  Much like Roz, we may find ourselves in situations where we are not in control and feel out of our element and are therefore forced to adapt and grow from the experience.  Her story is one framed by broad enough strokes painting the picture of what it is like to love someone, more specifically in the role of a parent, but even the youngest in the auditorium will be able to understand her plight and their place in this dynamic back at their home. It is nuanced enough, though, that those accompanying the budding young cinephiles will also find lots to enjoy and connect with. 

When it comes to the individual character designs, children and adults will delight in seeing the menagerie of woodland creatures engaging in classic slapstick routines.  For many of the animals, the film takes a rather realistic approach with a loosely applied overarching style guide in so far as the fur and facial features are concerned.  The one major exception to this is Fink (Pedro Pascal), the fox who fills an almost fatherly role in this odd family, but beyond just his red fur as opposed to the brown shades that color the deer, bears, and beavers, he seems to retain more of a physically brushstroked quality to his design.  It really stands out –  not in a bad way or a good way – but oftentimes Fink does not seem like he belongs in the same frame with the other animals, yet it is important to note that this eccentricity is not enough to derail the immersion of everything else in this world.  This specific, artistic flair is, on a macro level, something that has been missing in recent, mainstream animation in favor of glossy and smooth uniformed realism. 

Narratively, The Wild Robot may not be straying too far from the beaten path of stories that teach younger audiences about growth and acceptance, but even though it contains these qualities, it does not feel derivative of these other titles with Sanders’ previous work for the studio – a joint effort along with Dean DeBlois, How to Train Your Dragon (2010) – often being brought up as a touchstone when talking about this latest effort.  The first half of the film as Roz is learning how to be a mother and Brightbill is learning how to be a goose culminates in an awe-inspiring migration sequence and cumulatively makes for an incredible short film, albeit with some minor retooling as it would not have another 45 minutes of story to support in this more truncated form.  This first half is so enjoyable because we are meeting all of the woodland creatures along with Roz and Sanders imbues the narrative and the environment with so many opportunities for time-tested, situational humor in addition to the overwhelming amount of heart and sentiment.  The jokes in this film will land with the same high accuracy on opening weekend as they will five years from now, ten years from now, or should that length of time occurred moving into the past.  Basically, it has a timelessness about it that will lead it to become one of those classics that can be passed down to generations of film watchers. It is refreshing for any comedy, especially ones aimed at the whole family, to not be so reliant on memes and trends of the time to garner their laughs, and even though Dreamworks has made the exception to this in Shrek (2001), that film was reliant on our shared knowledge of fairytales and nursery rhymes; not TikToks and celebrity gossip. 

Back to the narrative, the first half ends with a triumphant piece of score from Kris Bowers, but unfortunately, the back end of the film begins to lag as it opens up the world of the film.  There is a neat animation as Brightbill and his flock are traversing the skies above San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge.  We see a family of humpback whales in the strait below and then quickly realize that the water level is well above the lanes of the bridge. Without words, we quickly learn that The Wild Robot is placed not just in some general future, but a dystopian future suffering from an ecological collapse.  Some of the remaining story will take place in these habitation domes where robots like Roz are used to harvest food for the humans.  It is a drastic shift from where we were, and while it does present a compelling and interesting world, it loses much of the charm and utopian tones of the earlier acts.   

Further, Sanders feels the need to bring the two worlds together – which, narratively, he is somewhat obliged to do – but it also turns what was a calibrated yet light and bubbly film into a somewhat messy action finale.  Thankfully, the film does not totally abandon its heart in the final act, it just changes its focus from learning to be a family to learning to be a community in a less-than-ideal manner involving evil robots sent to return Roz to the factory.  Besides the total shit, the most frustrating thing about this sequence is that the film was already accomplishing this same emotional beat in a much better sequence. During a vicious snowstorm – again, hinting at the unforgiving effects of climate change – Roz, along with Fink, frantically pull their woodland neighbors from their dens and bring them to hibernate in their home as it is clear that they will not survive the freeze.  It is a powerful sequence that greatly exploits the implausibility that animation as a medium can allow, but as part of a larger story it builds well on what came before and does offer a satisfying bookend to the more action-packed parts of the concluding action. 

The Wild Robot does succeed as a four-quadrant film that plays for its younger audience while also meeting its older audience at their level, too.  With a luscious location design and adorable animals, the film is a visual delight.  The cartoon violence definitely derails the film both for the younger audiences who may begin to fidget or get scared and the older audience who will miss the more mature themes, but there is more than enough heart in the preceding action that will overflow these few narrative missteps and keep audiences of all demographics endeared to it.  Most importantly, the love and care from the animators through to the cast all shine through so that even though Roz may be a hulking metallic figure whose processor does not comprehend love, only tasks, we do believe in her arc and the bond she has formed with Fink, Brightbill, and all the woodland creatures.  In the end, The Wild Robot is a film that promotes, beyond our roles in our individual familiar units, the idea that “it takes a village” not only to raise a child, but moreso, it takes all of us working together and recognizing each other as individuals each with our own skills and stumblings to be able to thrive together and strengthen our community.