“If you must blink, do it now. Pay careful attention to everything you see and hear, no matter how unusual it may seem. And please be warned: if you fidget, if you look away, if you forget any part of what I tell you, even for an instant, then our hero will surely perish.”
These are the first words that we hear in Kubo and the Two Strings, a 2016 animated film by Laika Studios which is set in feudal Japan. They are spoken by Kubo, the film’s spunky, one-eyed protagonist. Right from the start, we are issued a challenge to pay attention, to not assume that we know where this story is going to go. It’s a brilliant beginning. And the tale that follows makes it easy for us to rise to Kubo’s challenge, grabbing and holding our attention with its breathtaking animation, memorable characters, and heartfelt narrative.
Every day, 12-year-old Kubo descends the grassy slopes from his cliffside home to a nearby village, where he earns a living by telling stories. His tales have a special twist: armed with a magical shamisen (a guitar-like instrument with two strings), Kubo is able to bring origami characters and creatures to life. In the evening, he returns home to care for his ailing mother, whose memory is slowly slipping away. In the brief moments when her memories return, Kubo’s mother tells him fantastical stories about his deceased samurai father, the wicked Moon King who stole Kubo’s left eye, and a legendary suit of armor hidden deep in the wilderness. She warns Kubo never to stay out past sunset. And Kubo listens to her… until the day when he forgets, when his world turns upside down, and when he discovers that his wild origami tales are far more true than he ever could have imagined.
If you’re like me and don’t get out to the movies much, you may have missed Kubo amidst all the hype surrounding Disney’s Moana and the Oscar-winning Zootopia, which were both released during the same year. While these were fantastic movies in their own right, Kubo is an even better film. The stop-motion animation (think Chicken Run and The Fantastic Mr. Fox) is wondrous to behold. Not only are the scenes well-shot from a cinematography lens, but they’re also incredibly textured and intricate in their detail. The places that Kubo visits along his journey are like the origami figures that he creates – hand-crafted, marked by rough edges and an artist’s fingerprints, yet animated by astonishing motion and life. Again and again, I found the handiwork of Laika Studios’ animators taking my breath away. Without a doubt, it’s my favorite animation in a movie to date.
As Kubo’s story progresses, we meet some memorable characters: the stern Monkey sent to guard Kubo on his quest (voiced by Charlize Theron), the bumbling Beetle who eventually joins the duo (voiced by Matthew McConaughey), and the sinister Moon King whose dark servants hunt the heroes (voiced by Ralph Fiennes, a.k.a. Voldemort). The dialogue between the characters is well-written, witty, and often laugh-out-loud funny. In particular, Kubo’s relationship with Monkey is great piece of character development. The voice acting is top-notch, and well-choreographed action sequences keep the narrative humming along at a brisk pace.
In addition to its vibrant animation and characterization, the film hits a home run with its thoughtful narrative. When Kubo urges us to pay attention, he means it, because details that show up early in the story reappear later on with surprising new significance. The magical events of Kubo’s tale are mysterious and unexplained, and all the better for it. Nothing here can be taken for granted. Right when you think you know what’s going to happen, another twist lurks around the corner, waiting to sneak up on you. Dario Marianelli’s sweeping orchestral score is punctuated by the plucking of shamisen strings, which lends the story an eerie, unearthly glow.
Kubo and the Two Strings is a brave, bittersweet kid’s movie that dares to tread deep waters by confronting themes of loss, grief, and suffering. There are grim moments along the way. “Give this story a proper ending,” the Moon King taunts our hero, and like Kubo, we start to wonder whether or not the hero is up to the task. The narrative isn’t without its faults. If there’s any criticism that I have of the movie, it’s the sharp contrast between the earthly and heavenly realms of the story. The beings who dwell beyond the edges of Kubo’s world are cold and callous, detached from the harsh realities of life on the ground. This blunt juxtaposition leaves no room for the possibility of a benevolent force at work around us – a Creator and Savior who not only bends to nurture and heal the brokenness of this world, but who also entered into the midst of its pain.
Despite these shortcomings, there is still treasure to be mined here. Kubo and the Two Strings has wise and beautiful things to say about the importance of loyalty to family and community, the relationship between suffering and joy, and the power of storytelling. It’s a weird, wonderful journey that’s well worth taking. I can’t recommend it highly enough.
Words for Wayfarers 