Review: A solo filmmaker achieves a stunning if stretched-thin vision in The Worlds Divide

Animation, like any kind of filmmaking, is a collaborative effort. There are a lot of artists who work in a lot of ways to bring magic to the screen. But sometimes, one individual takes on a little bit more of the responsibility, as is the case with The Worlds Divide, a film that was made by a solo filmmaker, Denver Jackson. Jackson has no less than ten different titles when the credits roll, chief among them director, writer, (sole) animator, and editor. It's an incredible feat, one that we rarely see, especially done at such a level.

The Worlds Divide, which has played at a lot of festivals over the past year, and is getting an online release later this month, opens with a title card reading "This feature film was written, directed, and animated by a single filmmaker," along with its well-won Annecy laurels. I mean, hey, if I made a movie solo, I would also put it front and center. But it made me wonder if it was, in some ways, a gentle nudge towards watching the movie with grace. Like, if it's a little rough around the edges or whatever, maybe you can grade it on a curve? That thought fell away pretty quickly as I got pulled into the movie, because this is a really solid sci-fi adventure that doesn't require an asterisk to enjoy. It stands quite well
on its own.

That's not to say that this isn't a little shaggy, and occasionally, yeah, a bit rough around the edges. There are a few scenes where some of the animation is a bit dodgy (mostly in big crowd scenes, along with certain effects like glass shattering, that kind of thing). And Jackson could have arguably benefitted from bringing another writer in. I think the big picture here works well, but a lot of smaller moments fall flat or feel a bit tired. Characters are mostly quite thinly drawn. I had some quibbles with the sound mix, with too much dialogue being hard to catch (not helped by some voice actors who don't always enunciate and some hard-to-parse character names). But maybe stuff like this is easier to forgive knowing the backstory, knowing how much of this rests on one person's shoulders. Hell, I was following this movie's journey to completion for (I think) years before finally getting to see it. So if I want my glasses' tint to be a little rosy, so be it.

The story starts on a futuristic, dystopian earth, full of monolithic gray buildings, flashes of neons, crowds of hungry people. Natomi, a teenage girl who uses a wheelchair, and her little cousin Emerton are braving the crowds in hopes of getting some food rations, which are closely guarded by short-tempered soldiers. It's a bleak world.

When violence breaks out, Natomi's father, a scientific genius who's bent on bringing vegetation/agriculture back to the world as a first step toward peace, stows her and Emerton into a sort of transportation device that teleports them to another world, Esluna. Esluna is everything that Earth is not: dense with vegetation, green and vibrant, full of life and culture. However, the two are sent in different pods, so Natomi -- now able to walk -- sets out to find her cousin, and also to figure out why her father is considered a god in this strange new world.

From here, the film mostly follows pretty well-worn beats, but they're mostly executed well. There's an evil queen who wants to capture Natomi. There's a rag-tag group of allies that join our hero, including a robot that looks like her eye-patch wearing bear stuffed animal from back home, Miito (he's my favorite). There are airship battles, magic powers, some genuinely surprising twists and turns (again, the grand sweep works better than the moment-by-moment here). Occasionally, we flash back to Earth to see what Natomi's dad and his brother are up to. Her dad, in particularly, has grand plans for the world: potatoes with a side of (justified?) terrorism, anyone?

The world is richly realized, and where Jackson's artistic prowess shines most brightly. Particularly, the backgrounds and the airships are just gorgeous, and seem to take obvious inspiration from Miyazaki without feeling derivative. The ships, I think, are the highlight of the movie, with their intricate designs, delicate lines, and impressive scale. Just stunning to look at.

I really enjoyed the character designs, too. There are a lot of fun proportions, wild hairstyles, and super-expressive faces. There are some fun perspective shifts/"camera" movies that distort the characters' faces in neat ways. There's so much eye candy here, and you feel like you're in good hands. Jackson's vision is wide-ranging and full of life and creativity. Really cool.

Thematically, the film is most focused on parent-child dynamics: what does it mean to be a good parent, how do you make the world a better place for your child, what does it look like to deal with trauma you're carrying because of the way your parents failed you? I feel like you could sum it up thusly: Parents -- can't live with 'em.

At close to two hours, this is probably a little long. There are periphery characters who don't do much to fill the space they're taking up, and the climax just didn't work for me on an emotional level, even though I see how Jackson got there (I'm sure it'll hit differently for  people with worldviews different than my own). So ultimately, it felt like a stretched-out journey for a destination that didn't fully satisfy. But there was certainly enough along the way to make it a worthwhile watch regardless, and it's impossible not ao appreciate what an achievement it is. I tip my hat.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm really craving a baked potato for some reason...