There is a delicate balance between the spectacle and resonance of animated films. This balance can sometimes yield conflict, especially with the art of stop-motion, as the Rankin-Bass holiday specials of the mid-twentieth century gave way to more complex, modern tales such as Adam Elliot’s Mary and Max and Wes Anderson’s Isle of Dogs. Over the past decade Laika has mastered this craft, melding a beautiful aesthetic with a wealth of meaning across four feature length films. Beginning with the adaptation of Coraline in 2009, the studio has continually moved to broaden their narrative scope, shifting from the familiar in the aforementioned film to the mythological with Kubo and the Two Strings.
Laika’s tenth year of producing their own films is marked with their latest outing, Missing Link, an odyssey less ambitious but no less moving than its predecessor Whereas Kubo detailed a high-stakes adventure interwoven with Eastern influence, Missing Link anchors itself in one of America’s deepest urban legends, Bigfoot. This embedded familiarity gives Laika an opportunity to build its meaning, as a certain amount of world-building, if not context, will be resting at the front of even younger viewers’ minds. Unfortunately, Laika has made such a habit of instilling a sense of meaning within their settings, some of the beautifully-built locales feel a bit superficial at times, save a few notable exceptions. This is easily is forgiven, of course, as Laika’s characters are the subtle champions of their filmography.
Missing Link follows Lionel Frost (Hugh Jackman), a stubborn adventurer seeking fortune by cataloguing and proving true the world’s most outlandish creatures. Repeated clashes with Lionel’s senior, Lord Piggot-Dunceby (Stephen Fry), encourage him to follow an anonymous letter to the Pacific Northwest, the supposed home of the elusive Sasquatch. Upon Lionel’s arrival, said Sasquatch (Zach Galifianakis) is unexpectedly courteous and literary, as he admits to writing the letter that spurred Lionel’s journey. Desperate for someone to help him find a group he can call family, specifically the Yetis of the Himalayas, the creatively deemed “Mr. Link” secures Lionel’s aid in exchange for providing proof of his existence. What follows is a chase across America and India, as Lionel and Mr. Link are pursued by the assassin, Willard Stenk (Timothy Olyphant), under the bankroll of a peeved Piggot-Dunceby.
At its onset, Missing Link is concerned with subverting expectation and illuminating self-discovery. Lionel is a machismo-bound, painfully chivalrous figure desperate to make some semblance of a mark on the world. However, the film is keen to note this “mark” is little more than a positive impression upon a group of self-righteous imperialist. Yet simultaneously Mr. Link possesses a similar aim, to be adopted by a community as physically approximate as possible to himself. With the introduction of Adelina Fortnight (Zoe Saldana) during the film’s second act, these desires gradually reveal themselves to be in part self-sabotaging, a notion somewhat in contrast to the didactic of most children’s cinema. The film’s leads are expertly cast for such a dissection. For example, Jackman’s performances throughout Australia and the X-Men franchise make him an ideal conduit for Lionel’s transformation. Galifianakis’ voice, in contrast, immediately compromises any sense of fear associated with Sasquatch.
Laika continues to refine its stop-motion technique, made
evident by the transitions marking the protagonists’ leap from one region to
the next. In one instance, the annotations on a map transform in to the rope lattice
of a harbor on the east coast. In another moment, the steam of a locomotive
becomes the clouds of a massive western panorama, Lionel’s tiny wagon barely
visible amid the scale of the Mojave. This sense of scale is one of the film’s
most persistent devices, a stunning reminder of how minute one’s desires can
often seem against the backdrop of nature.
Missing Link’s humor is a point of advancement for Laika, almost directly impressed by the style of Edgar Wright. Comedy sometimes works against the film, however, as set ups are sometimes too quickly spoiled by a nearly immediate payoff, which in turn parleys into another criticism of the piece: its brevity. Though it can be difficult to argue for why a children’s film should exceed two hours, it feels necessary for Laika to take a chance with such an opportunity; Missing Link and especially Kubo feel robbed by their runtimes, and thus, the doors of Laika’s visions are harshly closed. Even an additional space for a minute act could propel the studio’s tales from exceptional to timeless.
Missing Link is a notable step of Laika’s legacy, and even alludes to the cause for an even greater production in the near future. Regardless of one’s age, the film puts forward something enjoyable for nearly everyone, while channeling a message nevertheless relevant in 2019.
RECOMMENDATION: Watch Missing Link in the most comfortable matinee screening you can find. Laika’s art warrants viewing it on the big screen, but minor setbacks prevent our highest recommendation for this film. Catching Missing Link at home via rental won’t take too much away from the film, but Laika’s attention to detail might be yet another reason to upgrade to a 4K setup sometime in the future.
PAIR WITH: Laika’s previous efforts, specifically Coraline and Kubo and the Two Strings are perfect companion pieces to Missing Link. Periodic nods to Edgar Wright would also merit catching The World’s End and Hot Fuzz (two critiques of expectation and masculinity, respectively), but be aware these are recommended for more mature audiences; try Scott Pilgrim vs. The World if viewing with a young adult (or in any scenario really given it’s incredible). Finally, the loose reimagining of the Sasquatch myth fits snuggly alongside Alexander Stitt’s Grendel Grendel Grendel, a retelling of Beowulf from the perspective of the titular monster.
Read on for a spoiler-rich analysis of the film below:
Missing Link is just as much a journey across the world as it is an odyssey of identity. While sailing across the Atlantic, Lionel admits to Mr. Link his concern with fame has damaged his relationships, epitomized in his treatment of his gargantuan companion. Thus, he encourages Mr. Link to pick a name for himself, to which he quickly gravitates towards “Susan,” one of the few humans he encountered that didn’t flee in fear upon finding him. Though reluctant, initialing dismissing Susan’s choice as “a woman’s name,” he accepts this milestone in his friend’s development. As Susan’s growth is catalyzed by his self-naming, Lionel realizes he is still hhamstrung by his own expectation. Whereas Susan shed his expectations with an apparent ease, the patriarchy that built Lionel’s career is far more ingrained.
Lionel’s approach to romance is just as severely examined.
Adelina is the widow of the man responsible for much of Lionel’s career, so
much so he wishes to assimilate part of the deceased’s character. Thus, Lionel
feels destined to woo Adelina, rebuilding her life to an instance akin to her
past marriage. However, as the film progresses Adelina admits to a growing
admiration for not only Lionel, but herself. Thus, after Piggot-Dunceby and
Stenk are defeated, she feels starting a life with Lionel, regardless of how
much he has changed, would actually be regressive. She instead opts to begin
her own journey, and Lionel, in a moment extinguishing the last remnants of his
machismo, accepts and champions her decision.
Susan is similarly presented with an expectation he must inevitably refute to become actualized. When they reach the home of the Yetis, Shangri-La, Susan and company are met with unrelenting cynicism. Despite his similarities to the Yetis, they refuse to see him as anything less than a human in Bigfoot’s clothing, a crushing blow to any myth made real. However, their hostility and coldness jar Susan, bringing him to a realization similar to what he encountered after crafting his own name. Though forcing his way into a family based on superficial parallels might provide momentary solace, there is no comparison to the importance of relationships yielded out of mutual growth.
In many ways, Missing
Link is the missing half of a message started with its predecessor, Kubo. The latter film focused primarily
on destiny as it relates to and often hinders agency, Missing Link suggests expectation as an institution flawed from the
start if it skirts the sincerity of cultivated growth. Thus, Missing Link marks a moment of maturity
and step forward with the themes Laika considers. What seems ironically
predetermined, is Laika’s likelihood of approaching concepts even more
harrowing in their next endeavors.
