April 24, 2025
For many months now I have not-so-patiently awaited the arrival of cinema’s latest blue-faced darling: no, not the new Lilo and Stitch, but a sweet new critter on the block, courtesy of obsessive creator Isaiah Saxon. This cuddly, furry, soft-snouted and pointed-toothed baby, an Ochi, is as real as a fantasy creature can be, crafted of teddy bear faux-fur (the older models seemed to be sporting extensions scattered throughout their coats) and manned by multiple puppeteers, allowing the sweet darling to be more fully embodied than a digital counterpart might be.
Let’s get right to it and say that this is NOT an excellent film. The cinematography, puppeteering and other practical effects, filming location, and strong-enough acting make for a sweet tale with a number of hiccups and a ton of gorgeous shots. The (baby) Ochi is painfully cute in near every shot, the interactions between human child and furry one endearing, but these strengths definitely do not bear enough weight to truly carry the film. The storyline and character development leave more holes than plot lines, the end simultaneously wraps things up too neatly and fails to address wildly important plot points, and overall a sense of dissatisfaction pervades. Moments of levity are interspersed with high-stress fight (war??) scenes, small bits of blood, and beautiful shots of eyes and faces. (Another small gripe here though: those puppets were so carefully assembled, so why not opt for more soulful eyes? A plain black glassy surface reflecting the production lights was…distracting at times, and a missed opp for added connection at best).
Families are separated and partially reunited. The Ochi, at least in baby form, as with near all creatures, is unbelievably cute. He’s also a pretty decent rip-off of a Mogwai with some E.T. finger moments, too. His adult counterparts hold no such sweetness, making for a lonesome twosome of cuteness and innocence in a world of dark energy.
The plot, if you can call if that, takes place in a mythical land (Carpathia, a mountainous island here, and filmed in part in the namesake mountains in Romania) where the slowly-advancing human society and their flocks of sheep are threatened by the blood-hungry and evil fanged and furred Ochi, who reside in the mountainside. Yuri (Helena Zengel), is an eyebrow less preteen with big feelings about her dad Maxim (Willem Dafoe) and his band of bonkers militia boys (led by a tender Finn Wolfhard, nice only when no one is around) who were donated to the cause of protection by their scared parents. Her mother Dasha (Emily Watson) left them, and now Yuri is a lost bird. Cue the trite metaphors and heavy-handed comparisons, lingering shots of her death metal poster (“Hell Throne: Destroy the Father”), and senseless monologues from the deluded Dafoe. At least her clack-backs are chuckle-worthy.
Through Yuri’s heart and determination the other humans learn compassion, she reconnects with her lost mother, and is successful in her quest to return the baby Ochi as well. So everything works out, right? Perhaps not a familial happily every after, but at least they’ve come to an understanding, and the Ochi are no longer the enemy. All is well, no more war. Right?
As I said, deeply unsatisfying. All loose ends — this feud between man and monster seems to stretch by generations, if not centuries, so we’re to believe it’s over now? Are the band of boys to be welcomed back heartily by their parents who tossed them out? Will Yuri, or Maxim, or Dasha, for that matter, ever be content? Connection is key, but they all seem to want to speak of different things, even if they did all bathe in harmony for just a moment.
The practical effects, stunning live and painted backdrops, and tender moments between child and crushably cute creature helped to keep pace enough, as did my desire for more meat from the plot—I kept thinking it would crest some hill, enter a cave, and offer us much, much more. Sadly, no such moments of brilliance or surprise or twists of fate appeared, only more of the same —albeit stunning — visuals we’d been served for 90 minutes already. Squealably cute but pretty boring, watch with an unafraid child or maybe just really high.
