Recent animation is totally taking a step up in my interest over recent years, and “Forgotten Island” just adds to that narrative. I went in for this movie blind, without knowing a goddamn thing except for its name. And to my surprise, I had something I did not anticipate before – a new favorite animated movie!
Set in the 1990s in the Philippines, the film centers on two inseparable childhood best friends, Jo (voiced by Gabriella Sarmiento Wilson / H.E.R.) and Raissa (voiced by Liza Soberano), whose bond is tested when high school ends and Raissa prepares to move to the United States to study at Caltech. On the night before her departure, a mysterious magical portal whisks them away to Nakali – a mystical hidden island populated by folklore creatures like the weredog Raww (Dave Franco), the Tiyanak Bungi (Manny Jacinto), a dream-invading Batiba (Jenny Slate), and the terrifying Manananggal (Lea Salonga) setting off a high-energy, “Hangover”-style quest where the island feeds on human memories, forcing the girls to retrace their steps before they forget each other entirely.
“Forgotten Island” is a beautiful animated film, both in its visual language and in the way it constructs its narrative. The film’s deep roots in Philippine culture give the world a rich and authentic texture, seamlessly incorporating local folklore and cultural elements into the larger adventure. It never feels like a generic animated film that is simply borrowing cultural elements for flavour. Instead, it takes its time to establish its characters, their relationships, their ideas and their culture before expanding into a world that becomes increasingly fascinating.
I have always looked at films through two primary lenses: the characters and the world building. “Forgotten Island” excels at both. The voice performances, led brilliantly by H.E.R., Liza Soberano, Dave Franco, Manny Jacinto, Jenny Slate and Lea Salonga, are consistently engaging. The animation itself is spectacular, and I particularly enjoyed the way the film adopts a Hangover style narrative structure while incorporating references that never feel like they exist simply for the sake of being there. Almost everything has a narrative purpose, which makes the experience considerably more rewarding.
There is also a clear anime influence throughout the film. You can almost imagine the directors being huge fans of the medium, particularly in the way certain scenes and shots suddenly transform their visual style for heightened, exaggerated dramatic effect. The animation takes plenty of liberties with camera movement as well, constantly shifting perspectives and visual language to make the world feel more dynamic and immersive.
Perhaps the most impressive aspect, however, is that the film never feels like it was made exclusively for children. At its heart, this is a story about friendship, separation, memory and the fear of losing someone who has become an integral part of your life. Those themes have an emotional resonance that extends well beyond its younger audience.
And the best part is that you probably will not be thinking about any of these things while watching the film. You are simply immersed in the experience. It is only once you leave the theatre that the analytical part of your brain begins to process everything you have just experienced.
That is particularly important to me as a critic, because I am usually analysing films while I watch them. This was one of those rare occasions where I completely surrendered to the experience. I was not dissecting the animation, the narrative structure or the themes while the film was playing. I was simply watching it and enjoying it. The analysis came afterwards, and I think that says a lot about how effectively the film creates its illusion.
The direction by Jérémy Clapin and Joël Crawford deserves enormous credit. Their shared vision elevates almost every aspect of the film, particularly its balance between spectacle and emotional storytelling. I also loved how deeply everything is rooted in the idea of memory. Jo’s decision to hide the portal token because she is afraid of being left behind gives the entire adventure an emotional foundation, while even the antagonistic characters are given arcs that feel organic rather than forced.
At its core, “Forgotten Island” understands why we hold on to memories. Sometimes, a memory becomes more than something we remember. It becomes the last remaining connection to a person, a place or a version of ourselves that we are afraid of losing. The film captures that feeling beautifully, allowing us to see little reflections of ourselves in its characters and their journey.
And that is what makes “Forgotten Island” such a resonant piece of animation. Beneath all the folklore, spectacle, humour and adventure is a deeply human story about friendship and the fear of forgetting the people who once made us feel at home.
“Forgotten Island” is a visual and storytelling masterpiece, and easily one of the most memorable animated films I have experienced in recent years. This might very well be one of the most important films of the year, and it comes highly recommended.
Discover more from Daily Planet
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
