DreamWorks' latest animation feels more Pixar than a Pixar film. This heart-tugging tale follows a robot stranded on a remote island, learning to become more than its programming allows. Directed by Chris Sanders, the film is adapted from Peter Brown's book and brought to life with stunning animation. Sanders describes the CGI style as "Monet meets Miyazaki", abandoning the flat, sterile look of standard fare to mimic the painterly richness of Studio Ghibli, with the vivid depth of a Monet painting. The result is a breathtaking world filled with Disney-like animal characters hopping and chittering through each frame.
One particularly delightful scene occurs when the robot, ROZZUM-7134, or "Roz", boots up and begins searching for an owner to serve, only to meet a forest full of bewildered animals. The island's fauna includes a mama opossum (Catherine O'Hara) and her seven kids, all pretending to play dead dramatically to escape the strange new creature; a gang of raccoons trying to dismantle its body; and a very irritated beaver who just wants his dam left alone.
After the island's bear, Thorn (Mark Hamill), chases after Roz, causing him to crash into a nest, killing all but the runt in a family of goslings, Roz finally finds himself a task when the freshly-hatched gosling imprints on him: Motherhood. A robot teaching a gosling to eat, swim and fly before winter's migration, is arguably a charmingly gaffe-prone exercise, especially when he allows Fisk (Pedro Pascal), a sly, friendless fox, to help him. These are the film's most exquisite, humourous moments - Brightbill (Kit Connor), the gosling, failing his swimming lessons; eating a pinecone; and learning the theoretical aerodynamics of flight from his mother. If you think you wouldn't get choked-up watching a young goose take its first flight as his robot-mother looks on with pride, think again.
Lupita Nyong'o voices Roz exactly as you might expect a robot-mother to sound: a monotone quality softened with hints of warmth and concern. The animal voices are wonderfully varied too, from the mischievous bounce of Pedro Pascal's voice for Fisk to the hot-and-bothered British-accented beaver named Paddler, voiced by Matt Berry.
Unfortunately, though, The Wild Robot tries to tackle too many themes at once. The most poignant is the impossible heartbreak of motherhood, beautifully woven into Roz's journey as Brightbill sets off on his winter migration. But layered beneath this is an exploration of kindness as a survival mechanism - an idea that, while compelling, feels somewhat tacked-on. One particularly dramatic sequence during a harsh winter sees Roz sheltering the island's animals in an almost Noah's Ark scenario, forcing them to coexist and "play nice". The allegory of survival through unity borders on heavy-handed. Even as the robot becomes wild the wild animals get tame. Meanwhile, the sub-plot involving evil corporate overlords - Roz's creators - attempting to erase her memory and reprogram her feels like a distracted after-thought, never fully integrated into the core narrative.
Despite these minor distractions, The Wild Robot is bolstered by its elegant visuals and a heart-melting soundtrack composed by Kris Bowers. It is accessible to young kids, and makes fully-grown adults furtively shed a tear or two, too.