THE WILD ROBOT (2024)

Directors Chris Sanders and Dean DeBlois know how to tap into the human experience through the fantastical lens of those who don’t exist. In their two previous animated collaborations, Lilo & Stitch (2003) and How to Train Your Dragon (2010), they can create vivid worlds filled with lovable creatures that pack an emotional punch through the lens of belonging, loss, and family. They each exist not only as great children’s films that pack a lot of humour, great music, and important themes but also poignant films that never fail to bring a chill to my body.

With The Wild Robot, directed by Chris Sanders and executive produced by Dean DeBlois, we trade in the relationships between creature and human for the story of a robot breaking human-designed protocol to survive through the connection with the natural world. As the presence of humanity lurks behind the creation of the titular robot, Sanders can achieve perhaps an even greater catharsis of connection and humanity’s relationship with a dying natural world.

When ROZZUM unit 7134, known as “Roz” (Lupita Nyong’o), washes ashore on an uninhabited island following a typhoon, a family of otters accidentally activates her. She immediately sets out on her directive to complete tasks for those around her. Because she is programmed to serve humans, she does not speak the language of the wild. So, she spends a few days translating the languages to be able to communicate with the animals. Still, they treat her as a monster and cast her out. Giving up on the animals around her, Roz activates her location beacon to get transported back to where she came, only to be struck by lightning. As she falls down the cliff, she accidentally crushes a goose nest, leaving a single gosling left to care for alongside a sly, yet lonely fox, Fink (Pedro Pascal). Roz’s first task as a Rozzum unit is to take care of her gosling, Brightbill (Kit Connor), so he can eat, swim, and fly before the winter.

The first and strongest compliment of the film has to go out to the animation team, as Nyong’o has so brilliantly done on the press tour. Headed by production designer Raymond Zibach and art director Ritchie Sacilioc, The Wild Robot looks stunning. It takes a lot of the character design from the original book by Peter Brown and brings it to the film medium in a mixture of CGI and hand-drawn style. The painted-style backgrounds add a texture to the film that makes everything pop in the world. Each tree is full of life, and each corner of the island is home to a unique design in the animals. As Sanders and the production team intended, the final product is “a Monet painting in a Miyazaki forest.” Roz herself feels very reminiscent of Laputian robots in Castle in the Sky (1986) combined with the natural beauty of other Hayao Miyazaki films My Neighbor Totoro (1988) and Howl’s Moving Castle (2004). Yet, it never feels like a cheap imitation but a new creation entirely. And the movement of characters is very well animated, using slow-motion effects for the passing of time in a way that feels breathtaking. One of the standout moments is in the short scene when Roz learns to speak the languages of the animals through added-in translation subtitles while the animals and days speed around her stagnant body.

For Roz herself, the team animated her to be very unexpressive. As the film progresses, her eyes begin to gain the emotion she wasn’t programmed with. But the emotional weight of the character falls on Nyong’o’s performance, who does an incredible job adding robotic ignorance, literally translating situations, while also growing through the trials of parenthood. What makes Roz so compelling is the arc she endures as a robot and mother. At 102-minutes, The Wild Robot moves at a blistering speed, having to move quickly between seasons and the ages of characters. But it never feels like we’ve missed any change or moment. This is largely due to Nyong’o’s performance. In each scene, Roz is on a natural progression, and while the emotional cadence of her voice slowly grows larger, it’s so subtle you don’t realise it’s happening until the larger story beats occur.

Kit Connor and Pedro Pascal (The Mandalorian) are also both excellent, bringing human insecurities to the lives of these animals. The rest of the cast does well in shining in their small moments. Catherine O’Hara plays an experienced, yet jaded possum mother of eight, revealing the secrets of motherhood to Roz, that no one knows what they’re doing. Matt Berry (What We Do in the Shadows) is a grumpy old beaver who shows off his selfless side in some of the most charming moments in the film. Bill Nighy (The First Omen) is a proud, accepting leader of geese who teaches Brightbill how to believe in himself. Stephanie Hsu (Everything Everywhere All At Once) is excellent in the most villainous role of the film, trying to remain calm while also resorting to drastic measures to bring Roz back to base. And Mark Hamill (Star Wars: The Last Jedi) proves to be a chameleon of animated roles once again as an aggressive bear with a secret sweet side. It’s also a testament to the script from Sanders and editing from Mary Blee to make each character so dynamic and memorable. Each character has a shining moment to make audiences smile and maybe even tear up.

The emotional weight of the film is also turned up by a wonderful score from Kris Bowers. The nearly constant orchestral arrangements set the tone from scene to scene, bringing propulsive energy to the more action-heavy scenes, while the character-driven moments have their own spine-tingling triumphant feel to them that activates the tear ducts and have them flowing through the credits.

One of my only gripes with the film is the inclusion of the lyrical song from Maren Morris. While the song ties in well thematically to the film’s flight training montage halfway through the movie, it stands out too much. Perhaps it feels too forced into the film, as many non-musical animated films dating back to Wreck-It Ralph (2012) feel obligated to add one modern pop song into the film, whether it’s for greater marketing points from the higher-ups in the studios or an SEO-pointed tactic, it frequently feels like a studio note rather than the greater filmmaking intention.

Despite that moment of studio interference, the rest of the film is strong in its filmmakers’ intentional themes. The film paints a picture of a future world where robots like Roz can maximise leisure time for humans. It’s not until the geese migration that we truly see how far in the future it takes place, where whales swim above the flooded Golden Gate Bridge and the remains of humanity live in domed enclosures where robots do the majority of work, much like WALL·E (2008). The Wild Robot is an environmental film, even more relevant as AI becomes a larger development across all job sectors. The movie takes what humans create and throws it into the base of what the experience on Earth is: survival. In this, we get a depressing exploration of the plights of human technological progress on nature, but also a hopeful interrogation of how kindness is a valuable currency in life. While Roz’s existence as a human creation is a threat to the island, her growth in finding the positive emotional developments of humans is also what triumphs over the predator and prey hierarchy of the wilderness.

Since Fritz Lang’s Metropolis (1927), we’ve been inundated with countless memorable robots on the big screen. Whether they’re gold, giant, humanlike, or even just a voice, robots are a mainstay of science fiction. Robots are a human creation. While cinema has plenty of antagonistic robots to draw from, what tends to resonate most with us are the ones that reflect what humanity can be at its best: driven, friendly, and sincere. The last of his kind throwing his directive away for a shot at love. The friendly giant doing everything to protect the young boy who saved him. The fearless astrotech adventuring across the desert on his secret mission.

With Roz, we’re given a walking paradox, reflecting the best of what humanity can be not because of the humans in her world, but very much despite them. Designed to be robotic, but at home in the wild, Roz is a dynamic and lovable robot that is destined to be remembered. And The Wild Robot, for its gorgeous animation, dimensional characters, and emotional heights, will continue to make audiences smile and shed a tear for many years to come.

USA | 2024 | 102 MINUTES | 2.35:1 | COLOUR | ENGLISH

Cast & Crew

director: Chris Sanders.
writer: Chris Sanders (based on the book by Peter Brown).
voices: Lupita Nyong’o, Pedro Pascal, Kit Connor, Bill Nighy, Stephanie Hsu, Mark Hamill, Catherine O’Hara, Matt Berry & Ving Rhames.