Based on the book by Colin Meloy and Illustrated by Carson Ellis
Genre: Adventure, Animation, Fantasy, Horror
Cast: Peyton Elizabeth Lee, Jacob Tremblay, Carey Mulligan, Mahershala Ali, Angela Bassett, Awkwafina & Richard E. Grant
Director: Travis Knight
In Irish Cinemas: 23rd October 2026
Wildwood: A Dazzling Journey into a World Beyond Imagination
When a flock of crows abducts her younger brother, Prue McKeel, a sharp-witted seventh-grader played by Peyton Elizabeth Lee, ventures into the forbidden wilderness on the outskirts of Portland. What begins as a desperate attempt to bring her brother home soon develops into a dangerous adventure filled with extraordinary creatures, ancient magic, and a conflict threatening to tear an entire kingdom apart.
One of the most remarkable aspects of Wildwood is the sheer scale of its visual world. Every frame reveals an astonishing level of detail, from the intricate architecture of Portland to the vast, otherworldly landscapes hidden beyond its borders. The environments feel remarkably tangible, populated by textures, colours, and carefully crafted details that give the film a sense of depth rarely achieved in animation. The result is a cinematic experience that feels almost physically real, despite being assembled through the painstaking work of stop-motion artists. The craftsmanship is so convincing that it becomes easy to forget the extraordinary patience and precision required to bring every scene to life.
For LAIKA, the Portland-based studio behind the film, Wildwood represents an ambitious evolution in both technique and storytelling. Its animation pushes the medium towards new levels of fluidity and realism, combining handcrafted puppets and physical sets with digital enhancements to create a seamless visual experience. Yet its greatest achievement lies beyond technical innovation. Directed by Travis Knight, the film embraces a more expansive and emotionally complex approach to fantasy, combining spectacular adventure with an exploration of loss, courage, and the bonds that hold families together. It shares the emotional depth and mythic atmosphere of Knight’s earlier film Kubo and the Two Strings, while establishing an identity of its own.
Adapted from Colin Meloy’s novel, illustrated by Carson Ellis, the story feels particularly suited to LAIKA’s distinctive creative vision. Its imaginative mythology is balanced by recognisable human emotions, allowing the fantastical elements to serve a story grounded in personal relationships. Magic is not simply a source of spectacle here; it becomes a way of examining fear, responsibility, and the difficult process of growing up.
Portland itself plays an important role in shaping the film’s personality. Rather than presenting the city as an ordinary backdrop, Knight celebrates its unconventional spirit, weaving its independent culture and eccentric inhabitants into the visual fabric of the story. The result is a lovingly exaggerated portrait of a place where peculiarities are embraced and individuality is encouraged. At the centre of this world is the McKeel family, whose alternative lifestyle and free-spirited outlook leave Prue feeling increasingly out of step with her surroundings. Practical, sceptical, and impatient with the unusual, she would rather avoid her family’s eccentricities than participate in them. Her perspective changes dramatically when her baby brother, Mac, disappears, forcing her to confront a reality far stranger than anything she had previously considered possible.
Prue’s journey into the wilderness is accompanied by Curtis, played by Jacob Tremblay, an awkward but loyal companion whose enthusiasm for fantasy and role-playing games proves unexpectedly useful. Together, they cross into a hidden realm governed by its own strange customs, inhabited by talking animals, mystical figures, and rival groups locked in a bitter struggle for power. What initially resembles an enchanted escape soon reveals itself to be a place of considerable danger, where the beauty of the natural world exists alongside cruelty, political intrigue, and devastating violence.
The film draws upon familiar traditions of fantasy without becoming trapped by them. Its mysterious passage into another realm evokes classic portal adventures, while its sprawling mythology and competing factions recall the grand traditions of epic fantasy. Elsewhere, the bizarre inhabitants and unexpected comic details give the story a wonderfully unpredictable quality. Enormous birds, armed coyotes, and an assortment of unconventional animal characters ensure that even its darkest moments retain a distinctive sense of personality. Beneath the eccentricity, however, lies a more serious appreciation for nature as a force that is both breathtaking and potentially terrifying.
That darker dimension gives Wildwood much of its emotional weight. The wilderness is not a harmless playground, and the conflict unfolding within it carries consequences that extend well beyond the central rescue mission. Battlefields, loss of life, and the brutality of war lend the narrative a severity rarely found in family-oriented animation. Younger viewers may find some sequences particularly intense, making this a fantasy adventure better suited to audiences comfortable with mature themes and unsettling imagery.
Violence is only one part of the film’s ambition. Beneath the spectacle, the narrative examines grief, inherited trauma, family relationships, and the dangers of allowing fear and hatred to become deeply rooted within a community. Its opposing factions are not merely obstacles for the heroes to overcome; they reflect the destructive consequences of division and rigid belief. As the stakes rise, Prue must learn that bravery involves more than confronting physical threats. It also requires understanding unfamiliar perspectives, questioning assumptions, and recognising when cooperation matters more than personal differences.
The climactic confrontation brings these ideas together on an extraordinary scale. Vast in scope and meticulously choreographed, the final battle delivers the kind of spectacle usually associated with major live-action fantasy productions. Yet the action never entirely overwhelms the emotional journey at its centre. Prue’s determination to save her brother remains the story’s guiding force, grounding the increasingly elaborate conflict in something immediate and deeply personal.
The voice cast further enriches this colourful ensemble, with Richard E. Grant lending his voice to the imposing Owl Rex and Rob Delaney bringing life to Constable Samuel, a rabbit entrusted with upholding the law. Such characters could easily have become little more than amusing visual inventions, but the film’s careful attention to expression, movement, and personality gives them a convincing presence. Even the smallest gestures contribute to the sense that these creatures possess lives and motivations beyond what appears on screen.
Ultimately, Wildwood demonstrates how far stop-motion filmmaking can go when technical ambition is matched by emotional purpose. Its extraordinary environments and fluid character animation occasionally make the boundary between physical craftsmanship and digital assistance difficult to discern, but the underlying artistry remains unmistakable. Every sequence reflects an immense investment of time and imagination, transforming an inherently painstaking process into something that feels spontaneous and alive.
Wildwood is an imaginative, visually magnificent fantasy that celebrates outsiders, challenges conventional ideas of heroism, and finds genuine emotional depth beneath its spectacular world-building. Bold in scale, unconventional in spirit, and unafraid to explore the darker corners of its mythology, it stands as a compelling showcase for LAIKA’s creative ambition. Most importantly, it reminds audiences that the real power of fantasy lies not simply in creating impossible worlds, but in making us believe in them.
Overall: 10/10
Movie Reviewer
