Another animated, geometric wonder from Irish filmmaker Tomm Moore, this time sharing co-director credit with Ross Stewart, Wolfwalkers borrows something from werewolf mythology, another thing from Irish history, and more than a few things from the animated fantasies of Hayao Miyazaki and emerges with a dazzling feature that ultimately establishes its own distinct pattern.
Set in 1650 Ireland, the film takes place within a walled city where a hunter is tasked by the authoritarian “Lord Protector” with eradicating the wolves prowling the nearby forest. The hunter’s feisty daughter, Robyn (voiced by Honor Kneafsey), is more than willing to follow in her father’s footsteps, crossbow and all, until she encounters a “wolfwalker”—a girl whose spirit takes the shape of a wolf while her body sleeps, and whose pack is on the verge of extinction thanks to the Lord Protector’s edicts (Simon McBurney gives him a Disney villain-worthy purr).
Like Moore’s previous films, Song of the Sea and The Secret of Kells, Wolfwalkers is constructed of intricately interlocking patterns—including a few sequences in which triptych panels break up the screen like a comic book’s pages—yet there is also a newfound expression of movement this time. In the forest, the wolves meld into the curves of the land as one entity, with Mebh (Eva Whittaker) atop them as if she’s riding a black wave. Occasionally we see things from Mebh’s point of view, where scents appear as colorful trails and the landscapes have the smeared beauty of charcoal or pencil sketches.
As for Mebh herself, she’s a delightfully designed character: with a streak of fur on her brow and leaves in her wild orange hair, she growls, “You stink!” when she first meets Robyn, but also pleads with her not to leave the forest because she’s desperate for a friend. Of Miyazaki’s films, Wolfwalkers most resembles My Neighbor Totoro, and Mebh is something like the title creature of that movie and its catbus rolled into one.
As a story, the film functions as a parable about fearmongering, demonstrating how religion in particular is often harnessed to stoke terror. (The Lord Protector, true to his name, frequently claims he’s doing the “Lord’s will.”) The Secret of Kells struck a balance between Ireland’s pagan and Christian traditions; here, Christianity is clearly the curse.