Kensuke’s Kingdom takes full advantage of its simple story with vivid animation and detail that evoke heartfelt childlike wonder.

Thankfully, this film adaptation brought out that reaction of childlike wonder in a distinctly simple, heartfelt way that very few animated films – hell, very few films, period – manage to do.

In Kensuke’s Kingdom, Michael (Aaron MacGregor) is a boy who’s traveling at sea with his family. But when a storm throws him and his dog overboard, they’re washed up on a remote island. They eventually come across a former Japanese World War II soldier named Kensuke (Ken Watanabe, of Godzilla), who’s turned the island into his own haven. Michael soon assimilates into his … well, kingdom, and the two of them fill in missing pieces of each other as they survive together … along with Stella the dog. Stella the dog is very important.

I know this premise may not sound too extraordinary, and at its core, it’s really not. You’ve seen some variation of this type of story before. But in the case of Kensuke’s Kingdom, it’s all about the execution that takes full advantage of its simplicity. The film doesn’t try to throw a bunch of zany jokes at you, it doesn’t fall back on hand-holding or excessive verbal exposition for the kids, and it absolutely doesn’t suffer from the rushed pacing that I’ve criticized other family-oriented animated films ad nauseum for doing (which is shocking, considering the movie’s length of just 84 minutes).

I really need to stick to that last point, because it contributes to what a graceful film Kensuke’s Kingdom is. It wants you to relish in the beauty of its landscapes, sharply naturalistic sound work, and smaller details that a lot of animated films wouldn’t necessarily think to include, like the unspoken hesitation of a character to go somewhere while another moves unwaveringly, or the proper seconds needed for a delayed reaction to a certain revelation, or every lifelike movement of Stella. Much more time than I was expecting is spent on Michael stranded on the island before he meets Kensuke, making you feel not just every sight, sound, and touch of such a remote environment, but the passage of days he spends stuck there all alone and the almost jarring contrast when he finds another person to talk with and receive help from.

The animation has an almost sketchy quality to it that, for the most part, really complements that rugged, simple story. That doesn’t even include the couple of scenes where the form is switched up. The first instance is cute and fitting of a good old family bonding scene, but the second one is downright chilling as it delivers backstory in a remarkable paint-like style that’s married to brilliant, multilayered visuals. I just don’t like the facial animations on Michael and his family. They’re a little stiff and occasionally lifeless, especially when compared to Kensuke’s expressions that I get a lot more emotion out of (despite him being the most reserved character of the film).

At the core of Kensuke’s Kingdom is the relationship between Michael, Kensuke, and Stella. Yes, I’m including her because dogs are better than people and deserve equal billing. Especially this one. Both human characters are missing something crucial, with Michael’s being obvious – a sense of responsibility and maturity – and Kensuke’s being revealed later. On the surface, this is your typical young-boy-befriends-old-wise-man storyline, but the pacing and visual storytelling are so good and bolstered by the fact that Kensuke himself speaks no English. This was apparently changed from the book, and it’s a really smart decision that makes their bond stick out in a unique way and feel all the more impactful that it happens at all. It even adds a cultural undercurrent to their connection that a lot of kids – and let’s be honest, many adults – could really learn from.

I was even starting to dread the possibility of Michael reuniting with his family because he’d grown so close to Kensuke and his home, and Kensuke clearly came to see him as a son. But obviously, Michael could never forget about the loved ones he would leave behind forever by staying. The more I thought about it – and the film quietly lets you think about it a lot – the more my heart broke at the thought of either scenario. Without revealing the outcome, the ending genuinely got me emotional for all of these reasons.

Going into Kensuke’s Kingdom, however, I had one major fear, because I saw one of the major developments of the film in its trailer: a group of poachers arrives to terrorize the island and the main cast’s animal friends. I was dreading this as potential film-ruining because it would turn this warm, minimalist story of friendship with no forced conflict into another evil-white-man-versus-nature story that we’ve seen a billion times. The Wild Robot’s already gonna make that mistake later this year, so I was ready to have this film tainted as a whole for the same reason.

But despite what the marketing may tell you, this is not the film’s focus or even one of the main driving forces of the plot. It happens for around ten minutes, the characters reel in response and grow closer … and then the story moves on. There’s no big climax where our heroes join forces to save their home or anything like that. We just get to see more of the proper progression and endgame of their journey together. Words can’t describe how relieved I am to say that. Sure, the character growth yielded from this could have been done more organically, but screw it. I’ll take it.

As a story, Kensuke’s Kingdom isn’t spectacular, but it’s told in such an engaging way that puts razor-sharp focus on all of its strengths. I can see a lot of people coming out of it thinking it was simply “cute” and not much more, and I would understand that. But as someone who’s had an admittedly complicated relationship with more eccentric animated films and shows, I think I just appreciate this one for not falling into most of tropes and stylistic choices that others do. That, and Kensuke’s Kingdom brought me back to childhood memories of reading similar survival tales like The Hatchet or The Cay, so that chord was struck with enough intensity to penetrate my rusty, cynical heart. There was clearly a lot of love put into this film, and I’m happy to give my own love back to it.

Kensuke’s Kingdom will be released in UK and Irish cinemas on August 2, 2024.

Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind Film Review – Loud And Clear Reviews

Miyazaki’s Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind has an engaging narrative, strong leads, spectacular visuals, and an environmental theme.

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Meryl Streep in handcuffs is a spicy image you don’t often see, but the actor embraced such a sordid scene as Loretta Durkin in the third season of the delightful whodunit “Only Murders in the Building.” The bombshell plot point in the series starring the magnetic trio of Steve Martin, Martin Short and Selena Gomez takes place during a rehearsal of Oliver’s (Short) Broadway musical when Loretta confesses mid-song to a murder she didn’t actually commit — all in the name of protecting her son. Add in Oliver collapsing to the floor from the stress, and the drama of the “Sitzprobe” episode ends on a wild cliffhanger. For cinematographer Kyle Wullschleger, creating a realistic theatrical atmosphere was crucial to the visual storytelling. “The theater was such a central character of the entire season,” he says. “We worked with a Broadway lighting director to pre-light the stage to make it feel authentic and look naturalistic.” Using theater fixtures, the location was drenched in a cool blue hue hinting at a “backstage feel.” For Streep’s heart-stirring performance, Wullschleger notes, “It’s not something we prerecorded. Her dialogue becomes part of the song and so do her emotions in that moment. She did that all for real.”

Coup!, 2024.

Written and Directed by Joseph Schuman and Austin Stark.
Starring Peter Sarsgaard, Billy Magnussen, Sarah Gadon, Skye P. Marshall, Faran Tahir, Kristine Nielsen, Callum Vinson, Willa Dunn, and Fisher Stevens.

SYNOPSIS:

A mischievous cook leads an uprising against a wealthy family on a seaside estate. 

It is surprising that, at least to my knowledge, it has taken this long for a film about the Spanish flu to be made, not so subtly pointing out the strong similarities between that time and the most recent global pandemic. Writers/directors Joseph Schuman and Austin Stark have also infused Coup! with a class warfare, eat-the-rich angle that is equally blunt but also far too familiar and derivative of recent works to function anywhere near as effective as observing characters in the early 1900s going through a health crisis and under lockdown.

The other unique angle here is that the wealthy journalist isolating his family overseas (making for sly criticism of modern reckless Americans abandoning the country to be reckless and wild somewhere with fewer cases, stupidly assuming the same thing won’t happen there) is a performative progressive comfortable misleading and outright deceiving his readers with no self-awareness. Jay Horton (Billy Magnussen, gradually more and more amusing as his world and image come crumbling down) paints himself as a hero on the front lines when, in reality, he is holed up and essentially ordering a small group of servants to endanger themselves day after day to get whatever supplies they need. Whatever heart of gold he pretends to have is immediately transparent, forcing these workers to live together in a small, cramped outhouse away from the estate. Again, it’s a case of someone progressive in theory but not in practice, which sadly exists among some wealthy elites today.

Among those workers is the flamboyant, jewelry-adorned chef Floyd Monk (Peter Sarsgaard tearing up the screen with an intelligent, charismatic, and rebellious swagger), new to the ranks and instantaneously questioning those around him why they are so complacent being treated subhuman when they are risking their health daily for this family to live happily, and more specifically, Jay to continue putting out a false image of himself in the papers while also anxiously awaiting some kind of promotion and public adoration.

Little by little, Floyd wins the support of his peers while casually and calmly worming his way into the family’s lives and dismantling the façade. A vegetarian family, Floyd quickly and easily turns Jay into a hunter, especially as he sees the respect it earns from his wife (Sarah Gadon) and children. Still, Jay always remains skeptical that Floyd has sinister motives, and so do we, considering a startling prologue involving death. Speaking of that wife, Floyd also uses that charm to sway her over to his side romantically, especially as Jay increasingly becomes more abrasive and paranoid over how likable the cook presents himself.

Perhaps this review makes it sound like the film criticizes Jay for not being a traditional manly man, but that would be a disingenuous reading: it’s more about how he is so deceptive and full of himself that there isn’t much redeeming about him or anyone who does actually practice what they preach. Nevertheless, entertainment is about all Coup! has going for it because the trajectory of all of this is predictable until the end, with little to no swerves. Thankfully, the performances lean into the fun of this concept and juxtaposition between past and present pandemics, not playing the characters too seriously. It’s a film that knows it needs at least to have some lightness despite its obviousness and effectively succeeds.

Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★

Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com

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