The Wild Robot Review
In transport, a human-assistance robot gets misplaced and ends up on an island without people. She takes it upon herself to parent the lone surviving chick when she unintentionally destroys a nest.
Despite having no human characters, Chris Sanders’s incredibly endearing animation (Lilo & Stitch, How To Train Your Dragon) is infused with emotion. On the list of fantastic, emotionally sophisticated robot cartoons likely to make you cry, it is ranked with The Iron Giant, Wall•E, and Big Hero 6.
Based on a book by the same name Peter Brown, it follows ROZZUM Unit 7134 (Lupita Nyong’o), which is, fortunately, pretty quickly abbreviated to Roz. Roz is designed to fulfill human demands. But when she crash-lands on an uninhabited island without any humans to help, she overrides her programming to assist the animals around her, particularly a gosling, later named Brightbill (Kit Connor) — whose mother she crushed in an accident. She raises Brightbill with the help of Fink (Pedro Pascal), a fox who initially tries to eat Brightbill, then becomes a sort of unlikely nanny.
The concept is quite straightforward—a robot attempts to learn how to become a mother—is masterfully told. Sanders never hammers the emotional beats too hard; instead, he lets them come naturally, frequently in devastating ways. He has a delicate touch with each character, revealing them via small acts. Roz’s failed attempts to raise a baby using reason rather than instinct—why not just throw it in the air if you want it to fly?—offer plenty of amusement, but they also reveal a reality that will undoubtedly strike a chord with anybody who has spent more than ten minutes in charge of a child.
The world of The Wild Robot is exquisitely rendered, brimming with vivid color and artistic texture. For a movie aimed mostly at youngsters, it is also remarkably honest. It demonstrates that attractiveness is not a defense against death, an inevitable part of existence. Within the first few minutes, there has already been at least one apparent devouring and a dead count close to double digits. It’s realistic but not particularly bloody; your typical David Attenborough documentary is more terrifying. Furthermore, its essential interactions are all the more poignant since death is a constant possibility, if not a certainty. You’ll probably be looking through teary eyes at a strange little goose and a rusty, broken helpmeet by the emotional wallop of an ending.
This article was initially published on empireonline.com
