The Wild Robot: An animated treasure

The Wild Robot (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG, for action, peril and dramatic intensity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 9.29.24

This is most sumptuously gorgeous animated film I’ve seen in years.

 

That’s surprising, given that it comes from the American Dreamworks Animation team; the verdant, sparkling look is much more typical of Tokyo’s Studio Ghibli. Indeed, in the production notes, director Chris Sanders described his film’s visual style as “a Monet painting in a Miyazaki forest.”

 

ROZZUM Unit 7134, renamed Roz (left), and Fink (right) contemplate the helpless
little gosling that has imprinted itself upon the large robot.

Image isn’t everything, of course, but recalling that Sanders co-directed and co-wrote Lilo & Stitch and How to Train Your Dragon — both of which earned well-deserved Oscar nominations, for stories concerning species alien to each other, who learn to come together for the greater good — I had no doubt that he was just the right person to adapt Peter Brown’s popular 2016 middle-grade book.

Sanders solos this time, as both director and scripter; purists will recognize that he has, um. “massaged” Brown’s story a bit. Even so, the book’s tone and spirit have been translated faithfully, along with the essential moral that has become even more relevant today: “Kindness is a survival skill.”

 

The setting is our Earth, somewhen in the distant future. A savage storm prompts some sort of crash, which catapults a large crate onto a distant island bereft of human activity. Curious otters, poking inside the partially shattered crate, accidentally activate its inhabitant: a large, flexible robot dubbed ROZZUM Unit 7134.

 

It’s a companion robot, designed to fulfill “any and all tasks” requested by human owners. Upon activation, it requires a task ... but nobody can assign one.

 

The robot is voiced by Lupita Nyong’o, whose sensitive performance here reminds anew that we’ve long needed an Oscar category for such work. Her clipped, metallic, somewhat childlike cadence is note-perfect, as the robot attempts to make sense of these unexpected surroundings.

 

Small animals flee from her; large animals attack her. One encounter proves catastrophic, when she’s knocked over a cliff and lands hard on a goose nest. The mother is killed, the nest destroyed ... except for one egg. When a close scan reveals life inside, the robot decides to protect it.

 

That initially proves difficult, thanks to a predatory red fox that wishes the egg for breakfast. When it unexpectedly hatches, the fox is equally content to swallow the gosling; the robot somehow senses that this would be ... well ... inappropriate.

 

Before anything else happens, the robot recognizes the importance of communication. It pauses, listens, and parses the animal sounds into recognizable words. (All animals apparently speak the same language. Handy, that.)

 

The fox, now named Fink (Pedro Pascal), is Sanders’ major addition to this story; it takes the place of several helpful animals in Brown’s book. An ongoing “sidekick” is more important in the cinematic medium, functioning as a conversational character who helps propel the story’s emotional content.

 

Fink, wily as his species, initially hangs around solely to trick the robot — whom he has dubbed Roz — into parting with the gosling. But Fink also is lonely, given that he’s viewed as a villain by most of the other animals; he soon thaws in the face of Roz’s inherent kindness, helpfulness and desire to “do the right thing.”

 

Naming the gosling proves the first challenge, since Roz cannot relate to the concept; she first calls the gosling “0001.” Fink objects, insisting that she think outside the box; that runs counter to programming that doesn’t include imagination and free choice.

 

Ultimately, wanting to adapt, Roz settles on Brightbill; Fink and the gosling approve.

 

Parenting advice comes from Pinktail (Catherine O’Hara), a mother possum trying to teach her seven rambunctious children how to properly play dead (a hilarious running gag that never grows old). With Fink’s help, Roz settles on three goals: Brightbill must learn how to eat, swim and fly, the latter in order to migrate, when the next harsh winter arrives.

 

Roz is happy; she has her “task.”

 

Additional key animals include Thorn (Mark Hamill), a formidable grizzly bear, and the island’s apex predator; Paddler (Matt Berry), a beaver determined to chew through the base of the island’s largest tree; Thunderbolt (Ving Rhames), an intimidating predatory falcon; and — somewhat later — Longneck (Bill Nighy), the oldest and wisest leader of the island’s geese.

 

Viewers unfamiliar with Brown’s book will assume that this story will focus on Roz’s growing comfort with the island’s animals — most of whom initially regard her as a “monster” — and conclude after completing her goals with Brightbill. But that isn’t the case; things take a very sharp turn midway through this 101-minute charmer, introducing all manner of new challenges.

 

Stephanie Hsu voices a key character in the third act, about which I’ll say no more, save to acknowledge that she adds a creepy, sinister note to these proceedings.

 

The result becomes an intense emotional rollercoaster, likely to prompt more tears than laughter; Sanders knows precisely how to develop suspenseful tension, and hold on moments of heart-in-mouth uncertainty. 

 

Throughout, though, Roz’s development remains the key focus. Nyong’o handles the robot’s evolving personality with delicacy and nuance; we can hear the emergence of curiosity, imagination and adaptation. Her voice and cadence become cheerful and melodious; her developing “sense of wonder” builds individuality. 

 

Her dynamic with Fink also shifts, when the fox reveals that his crafty, duplicitous reputation is a self-defense mechanism designed to cover his loneliness and isolation.

 

Messages abound: the crucial importance of empathy, and connectivity to the natural world; the concepts of adoption and “found family”; the recognition that individuality can be more important than conformity, or a perceived need to “fit in.”

 

The characters’ emotional arcs are enhanced by the soulful score from composer Kris Bowers, who recently won an Academy Award for directing and producing the documentary short, The Last Repair Shop. He takes John Williams’ approach to story, crafting distinct themes for Roz, Fink and Brightbill, in addition to an ongoing primary theme; even during moments absent dialogue, the emotional journey remains clear and palpable.

 

Although much can be admired here, the delicacy of Sanders’ storytelling is overwhelmed by the third act’s aggressively perilous cacophony; it upsets the balance, and — for a time — feels as if we’ve been yanked into some other movie. (At this point, as well, Sanders departs significantly from Brown’s book.) Nyong’o’s performance smooths these bumps to a degree, but the shift remains jarring.

It's an issue, but not severe enough to mar this film’s many delights. Sanders has delivered another hit.