The Wild Robot (2024)

 

Some films are so full of joy and whimsy that you can’t resist them, however much you realise you’re being led carefully through a story that touches on belonging, motherhood, friendship and standing together. Delightfully animated with just the right balance between digital sheen and more realistic tones delivered in kaleidoscopic colour at the speed of sound, The Wild Robot is such heartfelt fun.

 

Directed and written by Chris Sanders based on the book by Peter Brown and set in an unspecified far future, the film’s title character is a ROZZUM robot, number 7134. Its a service machine that looks like its design was inspired by early pulp sci fi comics. The name is a tribute to Rossum’s Universal Robots, the 1920 play believed to be the earliest depiction of robots and shortly to appear on our screens in a new cinematic adaption. When the spaceship 7134 is on crashes on a remote island, the robot cannot find a task to undertake as it’s programming directs. It is also forced to flee from place to place being seen as some sort of monster by the indigenous wildlife which seems remarkably diverse for just one island. After escaping a grizzly bear, 7134 accidentally destroys a goose’s nest but manage to rescue one egg. With the initially reluctant help of wily fox Fink, Roz as the robot is christened brings up the gosling who is given the name Brightbill.

There is such busy momentum to the film that events flash by without giving the viewer any time to think about them allowing the film makers to easily unravel any potential issues by sheer charm alone. Roz is able to pretty much do anything, adapting to be able to speak to the animals and overcome numerous physical perils though she does run down from time to time. Matters coalesce around the annual migration for which Brightbill, despite his smaller size, must be ready to undertake- cue an often amusing montage of his training. When the day comes however it introduces a melancholy and thoughfulness to the tale which in turn leads to a dramatic climax.

I can’t recall a film of recent note that progressed at such a pace as this one which manages to pack so many events into an hour and forty minutes yet still contains enough characterful moments and hair raising incidents to satisfy even the pickiest viewer. Admittedly the musical soundtrack is quite manipulative but it doesn’t need to be because the voice actors are all on point and the animation is so well realised. The backgrounds are more impressionistic, often resembling oil paintings, but there are washes of colour and the occasional quite photo realistic moments; they have rendered water especially well.

Ultimately this is an optimistic movie and goodness knows we need those. The crux of the plot is about three outsiders bonding with each other and then with the island’s wider wilder population. Making a functional service robot the central character works because Roz’s programming is adaptable so as the film progresses (there are some amusing moments where Roz mimics the movement of some of the other animals) its outlook adapts to the situation aided by subtle alterations in actress Lupita Nyong’o’s tones. She starts off like a chirpier Alexa but this changes into a more caring, considered voice later on. By the end she almost sounds human which is the point. Brightbill races though all of childhood in months with actor Kit Connor successfully conveying these changes while Pedro Pascal voices Fink, who manner is sly but who is really lonely.

Instead of a slow build, The Wild Robot is out to grab your senses right away. From start to finish its lustrous locales and busy horizons are teeming with life and energy. Just the opening section alone, as Roz pinballs from one peril to another is chaotically enjoyable, fizzing with invention and fun. Once she finds the egg (and notice how I‘m calling the robot “she” because she has developed more character than many a human being in other films) there’s a terrific chase sequence where Fink keeps trying to get the egg from her that recalls no less than the creative stealth of Tom and Jerry. The migration (led by the unmistakable Bill Nighy’s vocals) is as soaring as you might imagine and while a final battle somehow can’t quite match the cleverness of what’s come before (perhaps because some of it takes place off the island) by this point we’re wholly invested in the fate of these characters.

 Besides, the true emotional heart of this story has already happened both in a beautiful scene where the animals shelter together for winter, differences put aside, and when Brightbill flies away on the migration. After he’s gone, we see Roz sitting like a person might on a clifftop shrouded in mist and sadness. Who would have thought a film about a metal service robot and a load of animals could be quite so wonderfully human?