Henry Selick Brings Plenty of Ideas to Wendell & Wild, His Fun, Sad, Gorgeous Return to Animation

Early on, Wendell & Wild feels like it might not be for kids so much as inebriated adults. Over the course of its runtime, that is revealed to be a reductive appraisal—it’s a spooky coming-of-age comedy made of sad and dramatic moments which demonstrate the importance of community resistance to corporate control of the government. The plot has enough going on that it could have been a TV series or a two-parter, but for whatever its flaws or limitations, it flows coherently for 106 minutes to a satisfactory conclusion. All the while, it’s a marvel of artistry and artisanship, with a soundtrack full of Black-fronted rock bands to boot.
Kat (Lyric Ross), a young green-haired Black girl, loses her parents—pillars of their community—in a car accident and is roughed up over the years by the juvenile justice system as the film visually summarizes through shadow-puppet illustrations of memories. It’s a nice added layer, artistically and didactically. A grant-funded reintegration program brings Kat back to her now largely-deserted hometown, Rust Bank, and its eponymous private Catholic school. There, Kat discovers her supernatural connection to the underworld through Wendell (Keegan-Michael Key) and Wild (Jordan Peele). In addition to these literal demons she’s saddled with, Kat grapples with Rust Bank’s recent history: The school’s financial trouble, Rust Bank’s mismanagement and subjugation at the hands of Klax Korp, and the community’s resistance. Wendell & Wild could get weighed down by these heavy themes, but its combination of satire and silliness keeps it light on its feet.
Representation might be conceptually overrated, but it’s nowhere more necessary than in children’s media. Similarly, ”message” movies or socially conscious themes within films get a bad rap when panderingly attached to weak art or, conversely, as an afterthought. However, with intention, they can come about naturally when real-world destructive social-material forces are woven into the plot. That’s been done effectively, including in children’s animation, for a long time. Wendell & Wild doesn’t belabor any of its many points—that corporations have too much control over peoples’ lives, that mass incarceration is destructive, that individuals’ gender identities should be respected—it just communicates them clearly and moves forward.
It is a general net good that an animated film aimed at teens and tweens can clearly discuss issues like mass incarceration and the school-to-prison pipeline. It is of benefit that we have art aimed at minors with a flawed protagonist, who grows but doesn’t have all her edges sanded off. But that wouldn’t matter if the movie wasn’t good. Because the performances—from Ving Rhames, Angela Bassett and James Hong to Tamara Smart, Ramona Young, Sam Zelaya and everyone in between—are earnest and clever, because Key and Peele always have chemistry, because director Henry Selick and his co-writer Peele were able to effectively adapt the unpublished novel Selick co-wrote with Clay McLeod Chapman, it’s well worth watching.