By Kevin Harley

Published: Tuesday, 25 October 2022 at 12:00 am


4.0 out of 5 star rating

Between The Nightmare Before Christmas and the button-eyed heebie-jeebies of Coraline, stop-motion director Henry Selick nurtured a niche in gothic outsider tales for tweens and upwards.

Despite traces of over-compensation for time lapsed since his preceding film, Selick keeps up the good, ghoulish work with his first feature in 13 years. Funny, frisky and fully imagined, Wendell & Wild is a phantasmagorical pleasure: a carnival of devilish mischief with punk combat boots on, laced with fresh twists on Selick’s preferred twilit turf.

Whether or not these twists can be attributed to co-writer Jordan Peele (Get Out, Nope), the results benefit from an infusion of social commentary and a spirit of inclusivity. Alongside unexpected critiques of the prison industrial complex, a welcome emphasis on diversity in the heroine’s classmates and elsewhere helps broaden Selick’s horizons.

Said heroine is Kat, winningly voiced by Lyric Ross as a troubled teenager. Keeping her feelings safety-pinned up inside, Kat lost her parents as a kid – a tragedy she blames herself for. Buffeted between schools, she is transferred to a “break the cycle” Catholic institution in run-down Rust Bank, where all is not as it seems.

The school’s Father Bests (James Hong) colludes with entrepreneurial types, who are intent on milking the profits from an inhumane business plan. And Angela Bassett’s nun clearly has her own spooky secrets.

 

Meanwhile, where other animated films might treat grief as a springboard for sorrow and sentiment, Selick and Peele have alternative ideas. Kat has demons – and her demons have names. Meet Wendell (Keegan-Michael Key) and Wild (Jordan Peele), daffy underworld denizens who live inside the nostrils of out-sized monster Buffalo Belzer (Ving Rhames).

Typically, Wendell and Wild toil away squirting Belzer with magic hair cream to prevent baldness – until they realise that Kat could be their ticket to the overground.

While that sounds like plenty to be getting on with, Selick’s visuals elevate the material. His (under)world-building bustles with detail, from livid colour schematics to the Oogie Boogie-ish Belzer, who has a funfair on his belly.

Above ground, the colours are initially muted to reflect Kat’s moods, though Selick soon adds fresh flavours to the mix. The whole screen seems to ooze out at the edges, spilling over with lurid purples and squashed creepy-crawly innards.