The Wild Robot

In this exceedingly charming animation by Chris Sanders (Lilo & Stitch, How To Train Your Dragon), there is not a single human character, yet it pulses with humanity from beginning to end. It sits alongside The Iron Giant, WALL•E and Big Hero 6 in the list of great, emotionally intelligent cartoons about robots that will probably make you cry.

Based on a book of the same name by Peter Brown, it follows ROZZUM Unit 7134 (Lupita Nyong’o) — fortunately pretty quickly abbreviated to Roz. Roz is designed to fulfil human demands. But when she crash-lands on an uninhabited island without any humans to help, she overrides her programming to assist the animals around her, in particular a gosling, later named Brightbill (Kit Connor) — whose mother she crushed in an accident. She raises Brightbill with the help of Fink (Pedro Pascal), a fox who initially tries to eat Brightbill, then becomes a sort of unlikely nanny.

The Wild Robot’s world is gorgeously realised, full of painterly texture and vibrant colour.

It’s a very simple story — a robot tries to learn to become a mother — beautifully executed. Sanders has such a light touch with each of the characters, revealing them through tiny actions, never thumping the emotional beats too hard; letting them arrive naturally, often devastatingly. There’s a lot of comedy to be had in Roz’s bungled attempts to raise a baby with logic instead of instinct — if you want it to fly, why not simply fling it in the air? — but there’s also a truth that will no doubt resonate with anyone who’s been in charge of a child for more than ten minutes.

The Wild Robot’s world is gorgeously realised, full of painterly texture and vibrant colour. It’s also built with impressive honesty for a film primarily directed at children. Death, it shows, is an inevitability of life, and cuteness is no guard against it. Within its opening minutes, there’s already a body-count approaching double digits and at least one visible devouring. It’s hardly bloodthirsty — your average David Attenborough documentary is more harrowing — but realistic. And the ever-present possibility, even likelihood, of death makes its central relationships all the more affecting. By the emotional wallop of an ending, you’ll likely be watching a weird little goose and a rusty malfunctioning helpmeet through very moist eyes.