The Legend of Ochi (Christian Movie Review)
The Legend of Ochi is an occasionally charming family adventure story, but its dark, quirky tone pushes the limits of its PG rating.
About the Film
Movie genres ebb and flow in popularity. Comic book films have trended in and out of fashion, faith-based films have transitioned from niche to mainstream, and even westerns have made a resurgence. But one genre that has remained dormant for a long time is the family adventure film. As a studio known primarily for its mature and artistic storytelling, A24 is an unexpected candidate to breathe new life into that slumbering genre. The result is mostly what you would expect. The Legend of Ochi is an occasionally charming family adventure story, but its dark and quirky tone pushes the limits of its PG rating.
The family adventure film genre arguably peaked in the early 1980s with iconic movies like E. T. (1982), The Neverending Story (1984), and The Goonies (1985). There have been occasional resurgences, most successfully with the hit show Stranger Things. But Hollywood has seemingly settled on the conviction that “live action is for adults, and animation is for kids” (a simplistic framework that is wrong on both counts). Therefore, at least on a conceptual level, The Legend of Ochi’s approach is welcome.
The film doesn’t rely on nostalgia the way Stranger Things does, but it certainly draws inspiration from 1980s classics. The Legend of Ochi mostly unfolds as a typical “boy and his dog” tale in the mold of E. T., and most of the expected genre tropes are present: a young protagonist struggling with parental trauma, a cute creature companion, misunderstood mythological/alien beings, and so on.
What makes The Legend of Ochi unique is its tone and “arthouse” direction. There is a hypothetical version of this story that unfolds as a traditional, swashbuckling tale that captures a Spielbergian sense of childhood wonder, but this is not that film. Instead, it plays out more as a “gritty,” live-action remake of Disney’s Lilo and Stitch (more like Guillermo del Toro’s stop-motion Pinocchio than Disney’s version). The film is rated PG, but it pushes the limits of that rating. The movie has a dark tone, a plodding pace, and a sharper bite than might be expected.
As a result, it is questionable who the film is targeting. The PG, creature-driven plot veers younger, but the mature presentation aims at cinephile adults. While 1980s family films told stories that resonated across demographics, The Legend of Ochi tries to appeal to different demographics simultaneously, a risky approach that could ultimately satisfy no one. It trusts its younger viewers to handle mature material, which is commendable, but it does little to entertain them.
If there is one aspect of the film that will delight viewers of all ages, it’s the effects. The Legend of Ochi offers old-school movie magic, as all the Ochi creatures are brought to life using puppetry. In an age saturated with CGI spectacle, there is something irresistibly enjoyable and immersive about the film’s tactile aesthetic. The effects alone are worth the price of admission, and I hope the film receives some well-deserved recognition come awards season. Furthermore, the film is beautifully shot, with some stunning cinematography and striking visual moments.
Unfortunately, the story doesn’t reach the same lofty heights as the visuals. An unhinged and hammy performance by actor Willem Dafoe is always welcome, but the film never gives as much attention to the humans as it does to its creatures, partially due to its commitment to visual storytelling. The noticeable lack of dialogue isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it leaves the narrative feeling disjointed at times, more like a collection of ideas than a cohesive plot. On the surface, it tells a wholesome story of reconciliation, but there is also a religious undertone that may point in some less desirable directions (see themes below).
The Legend of Ochi is the type of movie that rarely gets made in Hollywood today. Sadly, it seems unlikely to inspire a further resurgence in the genre. The creature effects alone make it a worthwhile creative endeavor, but its eccentric storytelling approach and gritty tone will likely limit its audience pool.
For Consideration
On the Surface—(Profanity, Sexual content, violence, etc.).
Language: There are 5-6 profanities, including “s—,” “a—,” and “G— D—.”
Violence: There are some mildly bloody wounds from injuries. An Ochi bites a character on the arm. Puncture marks from the teeth are visible, and the arm begins to swell and turn blue. A character flips through a book that contains some violent illustrations of people who have been killed or bloodied by confrontations with the Ochis.
Sexuality: None.
Other: As is often the case with these stories, the young protagonist makes plenty of decisions parents won’t want their children to mimic, such as running away from home, stealing from a grocery store, and stealing and driving a car.
Engage The Film
Religion and Modernism
There are several thematic layers within The Legend of Ochi. The one most agreeable to Christian audiences deals with reconciliation. Yuri is a young girl navigating the fallout from her parents’ separation. Her efforts to help the Ochi youngling find its way home reflect her own metaphorical search for belonging. The Ochi creatures communicate through song. The singing—which expresses their deepest emotions—melds together into a collective melody. It is fitting that when that musical event eventually occurs, Yuri is flanked by both her parents. Whether her parents reconcile is unclear, but Yuri has finally found peace.
The film’s approach to religion is murkier. The Legend of Ochi begins by establishing a stark tension between the traditional lifestyle on the secluded island setting and the arrival of the modern world. Willem Dafoe’s character is stuck in the past; he is depicted as a wacky religious fundamentalist. He quotes the Book of Revelation and views his Ochi hunts as a religious crusade. The negative, corrupting influence he has on the troop of boys who join him sheds a cynical light on his character (and the religious beliefs that drive him).
The source of animosity between him and Yuri is implied to be religious, at least in part. She has a poster prominently displayed in her room of a death metal band called “Hell Throne,” with the words, “Destroy the Father” at the bottom. Significantly, the mending of their relationship (or at least the start of that process) involves him accommodating her. He listens to her music (pretending to like it), and ultimately takes off the goofy, anachronistic armor he has been wearing, symbolically extricating himself from past tradition in order to join his daughter in the modern world.
It is possible to take a more positive view. Yuri’s mother also seems to be estranged from her husband, partially on religious grounds. She holds to more pagan and superstitious practices (her husband refers to her at one point as “a witch”). Thus, they represent two different worldviews that must come together for the sake of Yuri. In that sense, the film’s theme may be more about coexistence.
Either way, it seems clear that the Christian religion (at least the brand of it Dafoe’s character represents) is presented in a mostly negative light as an obstacle in the path of modernization.
