Although I only vaguely remember most of the books I read in elementary school, I do know that The Wild Robot was one of the standouts.
Written by Caldecott Honor winner Peter Brown, The Wild Robot tells the story of Roz, a robot who is stranded on a remote island. Washed up on the shore, she has absolutely no idea how she got there or why there are no other robots, so all she can do is attempt to learn how to survive in an environment drastically different from what she was designed for.
After a few disastrous days of trying to connect with the native species on the island, Roz accidentally becomes the adoptive parent of a Canadian goose named Brightbill. Still lost and confused, she now has to figure out how to take care of an animal while adapting to her surroundings. Eventually, she becomes a vital part of the island, until her peculiar past catches up with her.
As a young girl, I was enamored with the idea that nature and technology could coexist peacefully. I didn’t have a phone until I was 13, but even so, I’d always visualized the environment as a sacred place, free from the spoils of humans. In addition to being a book nerd, I was obsessed with nature documentaries. Through the TV in my living room, I would watch curiously as David Attenborough explained the habits of sea cucumbers living in the Great Barrier Reef. I was endlessly fascinated by the ocean’s wonders. The natural world enraptured my young mind, and I wanted to help protect it.
However, reading The Wild Robot helped me to realize that innovations made by humans can be a wonderful thing. Both technological advancements and animals can bring a certain type of empathetic meaning to life in a way I’d never thought possible.
As time passed, I forgot about the delightful children’s book. It wasn’t until about a month ago that I remembered it because a film adaptation of The Wild Robot was set to release in theaters on Sept. 27.
I can’t lie: I was very doubtful about how this movie would be as I walked into the theater. Dreamworks Animation—the studio behind my favorite animated movie, How To Train Your Dragon—has been producing subpar pictures recently, from Kung Fu Panda 4 to Trolls Band Together. Because of these, honestly, laughable movies, I was concerned about how the studio would handle a story this exquisite.
Thankfully, all my expectations were greatly surpassed.
My first delight was the animation style. It was a distinct, hand-painted animation that I’d never seen before, but it did remind me of the traditional look of classic Disney movies such as The Fox and the Hound. CGI, in my opinion, is a grossly overused technique in both live-action and animation motion pictures today. Sometimes, it can make the motion picture feel like something produced by AI versus the devotion of dedicated filmmakers. The hand-painted animation provided a visually stunning and nostalgic look that most animated movies today lack. The colors were vibrant, the texture distinct, and the dimensions were perfect.
On top of the gorgeous animation, the voice acting was phenomenal. Each character in the film had a voice that felt genuine and real, from the main character Roz (Lupita Nyong’o) to Fink the fox (Pedro Pascal) and Roz’s son Brightbill (Kit Connor). Pascal personified the sarcastic and witty nature of a fox perfectly. Connor utilized his emotional vocal appeal to make the audience pity the young duck and then cheer him on in his achievements. And Lupita Nyong’o as Roz was wonderful. She made a robot sound affectionate and kind while, of course, still sounding similar to a mechanical piece of engineering. Even the minor characters made an everlasting impression, with voice cameos from legends Bill Nighy and Catherine O’Hara. No voice felt forced or unnatural, partly due to the well-written script.
The voice acting further enhanced my favorite aspect of cinema: the score. I love instrumental songs, and when used properly in a film, an original score can tie together a film in a way that nothing else can. Without a quality score, a feature film cannot be good.
The Wild Robot delivered one of the most euphoric, emotionally devastating scores I’ve ever heard. In the most tender moments, the score by Kris Bowers heightened the audience’s emotions and, in my experience, made me weep. From the resonating drum beats to the heartfelt crescendo with the strings in the main theme, the score proved to be a masterpiece.
With all these factors combined, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this film is just one of a kind.
Nowadays, children’s movies tend to miss the mark. Many animated films marketed towards children focus on cheesy, unfunny screenplay without any real lesson or moral. It seems that Hollywood has gotten caught up in the brain rot that social media has afflicted on Gen Z, and in consequence, movies are made with the idea of a dumb cash grab in mind rather than for the love of the craft.
In contrast, The Wild Robot was made with love. With the animation, acting, score, directorial choices, and emotional appeal, this triumph of a motion picture carried a certain sense of innocence and gravitas that cinema has lost in recent years. The film held a deep respect for the original story by Brown while staying true to the craft of cinema. Paramount themes like resilience, community, and sacrifice were all explored to a great extent. It was thought-provoking, funny, honest, and emotionally wrecking. As the credits rolled, I heard multiple sniffles across the room.
Put simply, The Wild Robot is a cinema experience of heart and purpose. It unites viewers of all ages by allowing them to reflect on life and why art, such as cinema, is so important. In my mind, The Wild Robot is an instant classic that will be remembered and watched for generations.
