The fourth dazzling feature from the gifted and resourceful animators at Laika (following the largely stop-motion works CORALINE, PARANORMAN, and THE BOXTROLLS) is about a little boy who brings inanimate objects to life through a mysterious and magical process. In other words, KUBO AND THE TWO STRINGS is about animators. Granted, the young boy known as Kubo (voiced by Art Parkinson, best known as the late Rickon Stark from “Game of Thrones”) uses a magic that is derived from his shamisen (the traditional Japanese three-string instrument), which allows him to bring his origami figures and random sheets of paper to life to tell elaborate tales of his family’s past. His favorite is the story of his late father, Hanso, a samurai who died protecting Kubo from his grandfather, the Moon King. Kubo lost an eye on the battle, but escaped with his mother, who is still suffering the impact of the epic battle for the gifted Kubo.
It should be made clear (and you may think I’m splitting hairs, but it’s also true) that KUBO AND THE TWO STRINGS is not set in Japan. Certainly it takes its visual cues from Japanese architecture, art, music and films (Akira Kurosawa looms large over certain shots here), but this is a fantastical place where spirits and wicked demons roam the land, and talking animals protect a young boy as best they can. Laika’s first three films all involved elements of a very westernized version of the supernatural, so I adore the fact that KUBO uses as its foundation a culture in which ghosts are simply part of the landscape, and the spirits of one’s ancestors are a thing to be honored and celebrated.
That being said, when Kubo and his mother are first attacked by her ghostly sisters (both voiced quite eerily by Rooney Mara), I recognized them immediately as familiar creatures from Japanese ghost stories. Kubo is forced to strike out on his own to stay away from the sisters (who are harbingers of the Moon King), so his mother uses the last of her magic to bring Kubo’s tiny monkey charm to life as the last line of defense in protecting her son. Voiced with authority by Charlize Theron, Monkey might be the greatest animated character of the year, and it’s difficult not to notice that her “fur” looks a lot like strips of white paper and less like hair. She’s a tough, no-nonsense guardian who trusts no one and refuses to let them linger too long in one place, since the Sisters never rest or need nourishment to continue on their quest to capture Kubo.
Kubo and Monkey are in search of three pieces of armor once worn by his father, which are scattered across the land. Along the way, they run into a memory-free, half samurai/half beetle (Matthew McConaughey) who believes that Kubo’s father was once his master before being transformed into Beetle, who is both the perfect comic relief for the sometimes crushingly serious film and a skilled warrior who often jumps into dangerous situations without thinking, unlike Monkey, who tends to overthink everything. The friction between these two animal caretakers is, in many way, the heart and soul of the film, because as Kubo acts as referee between his two new friends, we see him mature and become a less impetuous soul in his own right.
It’s no coincidence that this is the first animated outing for Oscar winners Theron and McConaughey (there are also three Oscar nominees among the voice cast, including Ralph Fiennes as the dreaded Moon King, Brenda Vaccaro as a old friendly lady in Kubo’s home village, and Mara, also doing her first animated film). The film is packed with fantastic performances, and their presence here is a testament to Laika’s strength as storytellers. The cast is rounded out with the likes of acting icons George Takei and Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, both of whom give standout performances as other villagers who are caught in the grip of Kubo’s hypnotic storytelling.
KUBO AND THE TWO STRINGS is actually an original work from screenwriters Marc Haimes and Chris Butler, but it feels like a battle-worn, centuries-old tale that has been adapted for this telling. First-time feature director Travis Knight (who has been animation supervisor on all previous Laika films, and also happens to be the company’s president and CEO) has done a remarkable job of blending the primarily stop-motion animation technique with CG to make a seamless piece of delicate, moving art. The movie is not afraid to be terrifying (Laika has never shied away from scaring children—either on the screen or in the audience), and that’s a completely wonderful quality to the studio’s work, which never feels safe or watered-down for mass consumption.
Easily the animation house’s most touching and visually stunning work, KUBO AND THE TWO STRINGS is quite often a bracingly unapologetic emotional journey (I’m afraid some amount of crying will occur) about the family we’re born into (for better or worse) and the family that is built around us to get us through tough moments in our lives when we’re younger. The production design and composition of each frame is so well conceived, you sometimes want to freeze the picture just to examine every square inch of the image.
There’s a Garden of Eyes, a ship made entirely of leaves, and a mammoth skeleton that bears such a resemblance to the metal armature of the original King Kong that it took my breath away, with its loving tribute to Ray Harryhausen. As they prove with each new film, Laika treasures its artists, as well as artists from the past, but this movie illustrates that beautifully. Simply put, KUBO AND THE TWO STRINGS is an animation masterpiece and a living, breathing tribute to artists of all kinds around the world.
