by Cain Noble-Davies
Worth: $17.50
FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth
Cast:
H.E.R., Liza Soberano, Dave Franco, Jenny Slate, Manny Jacinto, Dolly De Leon, Ronny Chieng
Intro:
As fun and beautiful as it is just to look at, Forgotten Island contains cerebral gunpowder in its musings on what connects us to each other…
After handing DreamWorks one of its crowning artistic achievements with Puss In Boots: The Last Wish, director Joel Crawford and co-director Januel Mercado have gotten good and personal with their latest collaboration. Inspired by their personal and professional relationship working at DreamWorks, Forgotten Island is a film all about friendships, memories, and what it feels like when one or even both are at risk of being lost.
A family-friendly take on the conceit of The Hangover, besties Jo (H.E.R.) and Raissa (Liza Soberano) spend most of the film trying to recall what happened during the previous night’s wild festivities. Filtered through a combination of anime-style cutaways, neon patterns like something from a ‘90s rave, and bursts of expressive and fantastical reactions reminiscent of The Mitchells Vs. The Machines, the film’s depiction of Philippine mythology and folklore not only makes for a vibrant change of pace from the mainstream, but it’s so ingrained in everything being shown and discussed that it doesn’t feel like a tokenistic change of scenery. Like everything else presented, there’s a deep and abiding love exuding through the craftsmanship.
As Jo and Raissa go about their hunt for a night’s lost memories, forging a ramshackle group of new friends called the Wild Pack, their connections with media from their youth regularly hits interesting tones. Between its ‘80s-to-early-‘90s mixtape-worthy soundtrack, references to Predator, and the aforementioned stylistic flips from ‘Japanese’ animation, there’s plenty of love for the classics… but not in the preening nostalgic “we miss the good ol’ days” way that a lot of modern Hollywood consistently trades in. Every song used, no matter how recognisable, has a place in the narrative. Every movie quote and clip shows personal fondness. Every animation shift, however sporadic or momentary, taps into that same Mitchells zone of inner creativity. These aren’t memories being brought up because the media contained within is what makes them important; it’s the shared experience that matters.
After a fashion, it echoes Inside Out in its examination of our connections with memories, along with visual cues and the comparable emotional intensity of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (which, given Charlie Kaufman’s actual DreamWorks collaboration in Orion And The Dark (2024), is far less surprising than it seems). Connecting all the colourful creatures that Jo and Raissa encounter, from the tapestry-weaving Tiyanak, to the memory-collecting Batiba, to the easily-ruffled King Truffle Wuffle, is their varied ways of collating those experiences. As fun and beautiful as it is just to look at, Forgotten Island contains cerebral gunpowder in its musings on what connects us to each other, whether it’s a culture spanning an entire land mass, or one small chance encounter between would-be friends.
Forgotten Island is a labour of love worth remembering. It has a gorgeous and soulful approach to analysing what creates bonds between people, and as widespread as its influences are, from Western staples to imported touchstones, it has an insatiable and captivating energy solely belonging to itself (doubly so for being one of only two Dreamworks Animation productions this decade not based on a pre-existing IP). It’s an ode to the joys of true friendship that, in every way that enhances the experience, feels like it was borne from such a friendship.
