REVIEW: “The Willoughbys”

REVIEW: “The Willoughbys”

April 24th, 2020

Martin Goodman

After placing two films in Academy Award contention last year, Netflix served notice to the major animation studios that it was going to be a player and a force to be reckoned with in future competition for audiences. Although Pixar took home the award, Disney saw Frozen 2 shut out from finalist consideration. For Netflix, the future is now, and their latest production, The Willoughbys, is a disarmingly powerful statement.

The movie, adapted from Lois Lowry’s book of the same name, is both a joyful riot of color and a poignant tale that takes several dark turns. Director Kris Pearn’s animation resume goes back to 1997; he has served in virtually every capacity the medium offers. Although his sole directing credit was Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs 2, Pearn is a veteran writer and knows his way around a screenplay; his skills produced a highly entertaining take on Lowry’s work. Under his direction, The Willoughbys is a skilled mix of sweet and sour, pain and joy, humor and pathos.

I avoid spoilers when I can, so here is the basic premise: Four unhappy children, Tim, Jane, and twins (both named Barnaby) are neglected to the point of heart-rending cruelty by parents known only as Mother and Father. The couple is tied together by a sickening adoration for each other that leaves no room to love their children, who are frequently starved or locked in a coal bin.

After an encounter with an orphaned baby, Tim (the eldest) formulates an idea; if they can kill their parents with a lethal vacation trip disguised as a fun holiday, the kids can all be orphans too and thus pursue much happier lives. As you may well guess, this idea has more than a few holes in it, and the kids learn about life the hard way.

The legendary film critic Roger Ebert once said that most animated films fail because they underestimate the intelligence and “bullshit detectors” (my term, not his) that kids naturally have. They are sharper and smarter than filmmakers give then credit for, and they can handle dark and frightening themes better than one would suspect. Author Roald Dahl always knew this secret, and it’s a good reason that his works remain germane today. (“The Willoughbys” pays homage to Dahl in the form of a candy factory that becomes central to the plot later in the film). Pearn has absorbed this lesson and runs with it—but remembers to balance the darkness with moments of brilliant light and humor.

For example, there are amusing references to other films and several running gags: Tim cannot cross a street without causing a multi-car pileup, and Jane’s desire to break into song is interrupted every time she tries. Other knowing touches: When the children liberate themselves from the Willoughby’s antiquated house and take to the streets of the city, every person streaming past them is staring into a cellphone as they walk, a visual complement to the theme of children being ignored and neglected by adults. The kindhearted nanny hired by the parents to watch the kids while they go on their deadly trip has a massive hairdo in the shape of a heart. While this is a somewhat obvious trope, it’s a nice touch.

Another great decision by Pearn is to have the story narrated by the family cat. Rather than taking over the story, though, the cat only shows up at key narrative points or when a linkage between scenes is needed. The only characters who are one-note are the awful parents: Tim is a staunch bend-but-don’t-break future scion of the Willoughby line. Jane has a talent for songwriting and a sweet voice. Barnaby A and B have preternatural engineering skills.

Will Forte (The Last Man on Earth) does such a beautiful job with Tim that one can believe he really is a kid. Singer/Songwriter Alessia Cara makes Jane a heart-winner. Sean Cullen is excellent as the Barnaby twins, and Ricky Gervais shines as the snarky, knowing cat. There is an outstanding performance by veteran actress Maya Rudolph as Linda the Nanny, and a sweet job turned in by Terry Crews as candy factory owner Commander Melanoff, who seems to have breezed in from Pepperland. Martin Short and Jane Krakowski are disgustingly superb as the children’s detestable parents.

I must mention the superb musical score by Mark Mothersbaugh. This ex-member of Devo has been doing great work on animated films and series, and this is a high point; note his faux Victorian score in the early scenes, and his musical/vocal accompaniments in the short but funny “Perfect Family” sequence. Character design is by Craig Kellman, who does work reminiscent of his designs in The Addams Family, but here in the service of a much better film.

The Willoughbys is a joint American-Canadian production, with animation done at the Bron Studio (British Columbia). The animation is smooth enough, but what clicks best is the incredible color palette and the willingness to mix unusual textures into characters and backgrounds. The cat, for example, looks as if it is made of Naugahyde rather than fur. One very thoughtful touch was to give the children yarn for hair, a visual reference to Mother’s obsession with knitting. This method was used recently in Trolls World Tour and is likely to become a staple in every studio’s playbook.

In sum, The Willoughbys is an outstanding effort by Netflix. This film does not play down to audiences of any age and contains no self-referential pop culture jokes, product placements, or hip-hop/K-Pop dance sequences to carry the burden of a weak story. The film is expertly directed and entertaining enough to be a treat for any animated film fan because it strives to get right what many other animated films get wrong.