It’d be so easy to get lost within the woods of The Wild Robot for looking so damn good. The lush visual splendor is enough to make one crave a silent adventure ala Wall-E. Thankfully, this film never becomes that dirivitive, nor does its script aggravate with a simplistic assembly of busywork for the ensemble of robots and critters. There’s a rare charm for a film that looks this good and harbors many strong thematic elements.
Although dense in its philosophy, the story is simple enough to follow. The robot Roz (Lupita Nyong’o) has been unexpectedly dumped on an island. Unsure of how she got there, she searches the human-free area for a purpose. All she finds is an ecosystem of wildlife that is vicious in its life cycle, leaning more into the dark humor of animated nature than the softer edges usually favored. There are stakes to living in this environment, which Roz comes to learn after adopting a baby Barnacle goose she dubs Brightbill (Kit Connor). Her mothering techniques are unorthodox, but she does grasp the basics of ensuring Brightbill’s survival, which essentially amounts to flying or dying.
There’s very little hand-holding for Roz’s motherhood adventure. She does receive some dietary advice from the devious fox Fink (Pedro Pascal) and some mom tips from the opossum Pinktail (Catherine O’Hara), but only in cynical nuggets that won’t guide her easily. While Fink may remain Roz’s co-parent, he’s not above abusing the robot’s power to amass food or occasionally attempting to chow down on her growing goose child. The whole first act plays out so earnestly with its rough depiction of wildlife that the heartfelt finale punches harder with its tender moments. It’d be so easy for an animated film like this to favor all of the cute moments while glossing over the stakes.
Another refreshing aspect of this film is that it remains firmly focused on the mother-son dynamic. Some questions are answered about who built Roz and where all the humans are on this version of Earth, but these topics are addressed more visually than expositionally. Audiences have become accustomed enough to the dystopian Earth future of movies that the glimpse of whales swimming over the Golden Gate Bridge tells you everything you need to know. The one aspect of Roz’s robot nature worth focusing on is how she goes against her programming. She is proclaimed defective for her favoring of trying to understand animals. The outsider weirdness of her perseverance makes her the perfect mother for the runt Brightbill. It’s a brilliant way that the film highlights the societal perceptions of conformity within the realms of nature and tech, finding the compelling chemistry of when they collide.
For as cerebral as this narrative can get, there’s more than enough visual splendor to appreciate within The Wild Robot. The nature settings are eye-popping gorgeous with their lush favoring of bold colors. From the details of the ocean to the deep greens of the forest to the vibrant pinks of a forest fire, it’s all so dazzling and is perfectly juxtaposed a robot among critters. The film also takes some unique detours to spaceships and enclosed farms for humans that have a remarkable quality to their assembly that is never bogged down with exposition. Even the supporting characters have their distinct charms that mesh well with their environments. Matt Berry and Bill Nighy fit neatly enough into their roles as an egotistical beaver and wise mentor goose, respectively, never overstaying their welcome or exaggerating much of their roles. I especially dug the film’s only antagonist, Vontra (Stephanie Hsu), a floating tentacle-monster robot cheerfully trying to capture Roz and strip her of data and identity. Her chipper demeanor, paired with her intimidating floating, makes her the perfect representation of those who would instead “cure” disorders than embrace the uniqueness of what makes us special.
The Wild Robot is a top-tier DreamWorks animation for its beautiful and cerebral storytelling. It’s also the perfect animated film for families as it never feels like its softening the material to be kid-friendly and mother-approved. But what’s more important is that there so many angles to consider with such an intriguely tale. A second watch might garner more attention for how Roz’s empty-nest syndrome develops a certain existential realization of community. A third watch might become more fascinating for how Roz’s realization of her corporation’s persistence represents the war of attrition that comes with discrimination. For the parents out there, you’re likely going to end up watching animated films with your kids over and over again. You might as well get something more out of each viewing, and there’s as much societal commentary for the mind as there are wondrous visuals for the eyes in this film. I can’t wait to see this film again, if only to see what else can be explored through its intricate wilderness of ideas.