Animated masterpiece depicts journey from fear to light

Reel Rating: 5 out of 5 reels

Disclaimer: The following review contains spoilers.

At this point, it’s a tired–though true–stereotype that Hollywood only makes sequels, reboots, and superhero adaptations, completely negating original work in favor of familiar and safe franchises. Yet there have always been original works of great creativity and wonder, even if they are often hard to find. Orion and the Dark is one such work, the most original and heartwarming animated film in nearly a decade, a masterpiece of cinematic artistry that harkens back to the glory days of Pixar.

Orion (Jacob Trembly) is an 11-year-old boy with a serious case of pantophobia. He’s afraid of clowns, bugs, germs, getting called on while in class, talking to girls, death, and–most of all–the dark. Not only does he sleep with the door open, but with multiple night lights. One night, a storm mysteriously shuts off all these lights, leaving Orion alone with the dark, which begins to speak to him.

Oddly enough, Dark (Paul Hause) is a nice guy and wants to help Orion with his fear. “Lots of kids are afraid of the dark,” he tells the terrified child. “But you take it to a whole new level. Spend one night with me, and you’ll see I’m nothing to be afraid of.” Orion is hesitant, but it’s best not to tempt an anthropomorphic manifestation of your deepest fear.

Like the ghosts of Scrooge, Dark takes Orion on a grand tour as he covers the world in darkness. Assisting him are “the Night Entities,” a collection of nocturnal themed concepts including Quiet, Unexpected Noises, Insomnia, Sleep, and Sweet Dreams. My favorite is Insomnia (Nat Faxon), a mosquito-like creature who whispers intrusive thoughts into your brain just as you drift off. While Orion still prefers the Light, he begins to appreciate the role Dark has in creation. This childlike adventure soon takes an existential turn as Dark doubts his purpose, especially in the face of everyone’s preference for Light. Soon, it is Orion himself who must save Dark and restore the balance of nature.

Dark is an intriguing character. He is personified as a large, shrouded figure with glowing green eyes, but is anything but menacing. He is kind, witty, modest, and sensitive. He reminds me of a golden retriever who wants to show you a hole he just dug in the backyard. He highlights all the benefits of darkness, like seeing the stars and getting a good night’s sleep. Darkness is also a metaphor for all the unknown fears in one’s life.

For a young person, most of the world is new, and that can be scary. There’s a poignant scene reminiscent of a classic line from Finding Nemo where Orion must accept the unknown to save those he loves. It is impossible to avoid pain, suffering, and the effects of sin, but we can “take heart, for [Christ] has overcome the world.” Thus, we can face the unknown, vigilant but unafraid.

All this is good but standard for an animated kid’s fantasy. What is not standard is the screenwriter: Charlie Kaufman. I have never been a fan of the auteur theory of cinema, but Kaufman is an exception. Every Kaufman film–independent of the director–is a bizarre but fascinating exploration of existential dread, the true heart of man, and the unlimited capacity of the imagination.

For example, halfway through the film, the audience learns that this tall tale is being recounted by a future Orion (Colin Hanks) to his daughter Hypatia (Mia Brown). She counters that “fear of the dark is just an evolutionary trait designed to protect us from prey” but nonetheless insists that he continue. Soon, she inserts herself into the story to help her younger dad on his quest. When she cannot return to her future home, her own son, from even further in the future, adds to the story.

What emerges is an ever-changing narrative in which each generation includes its own magical take on the story. And that story ultimately becomes a tale of how Orion overcame his fear of a class field trip to meet his future wife, leading to all these ancestors. It’s an extraordinarily beautiful parable of the necessity of suffering and how God uses our pain for our greater good. It’s also nice to see an animated film portray a nuclear family in its proper positive context–several contexts, at that.

There are a handful of filmmakers who were wild in their youth only to create more traditional, family-oriented fare after getting married and having children later in life (Burton in Big Fish, Scorsese in Hugo, etc). So too Kaufman, famous as a crazy, demented, isolated genius in the Salinger vein, now has a film that uses these creative impulses for the good. The dark will always be with us, but that is why we need each other. This is why the good Lord designed the human species to be conceived in a family–even unto His own Incarnation. Also, Werner Herzog plays a hilarious cameo, which is a joke worth the price of admission alone.