The Legend of Ochi ★★½

In The Legend of Ochi, director Isaiah Saxon creates a dark fantasy film with genuine wonder and awe. Set on a remote island in the Black Sea, it follows young Yuri (Helena Zengel) as she lives with her father Maxim (Willem Dafoe), who has trained her to hunt Ochi. The Ochi are an animal that inhabit this island and, as Maxim tells it, they pose a horrible threat. Their small town is filled with stories of locals going missing or cattle being slaughtered by Ochi, prompting men like Maxim to dedicate their lives to the hunting and extermination of Ochi. Not only does he train Yuri, but he has a local army of teen boys whose families have enlisted them in Maxim’s force. He puts them to the test with armed assaults on the forests, where Maxim believes the Ochi live, and he has set up numerous traps all throughout the forest in the hopes of catching Ochi. In checking the traps one day, Yuri finds an ensnared baby Ochi and instead of killing it, she brings it home to treat it and then they run off together in the hopes of reuniting the baby Ochi with its mother.

At times, The Legend of Ochi bears a strong influence from the comedic and off-beat style of Wes Anderson – many of Anderson’s films are also known for characters defined by their “uniforms” and Saxon’s film embodies this throughout as everybody has a distinct look and wardrobe – with a sense of wonder from E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial and a dark fantasy puppetry approach akin to The Dark Crystal or other Jim Henson works. It is all packaged in a quirky package with a lot of heart. As with many family-oriented works, The Legend of Ochi works well as a fable centered on understanding and tolerance. This is a story of ingrained hatred, a human society that thinks they know what the Ochi are like, then train young people to hate them. These young people then go out and kill Ochi and reinforce the Ochi’s hate and distrust of humans. It is a cycle of violence and cultural hatred that is seen often in our society and as in The Legend of Ochi, the present state of things does not mirror, historically, how past relations were or how they could be in time. Effectively telling its folklore and the once powerful, musical and vocal connection between humans and Ochi, it becomes a story of how mistruths, misconceptions, and violence can kill a once deeply held and cherished societal bond. 

As the humans and Ochi come together, united by Yuri and the baby Ochi’s bond that rekindles this inter-species connection, The Legend of Ochi can be a beautiful and soul stirring experience matched by stunning visuals. With some scenes shot on-location in Transylvania, Saxon and cinematographer Evan Prosofsky draw out every bit of beauty in this scenery. The long shots through the trees that capture the vast, sprawling expanse of this mountain terrain, the fog hanging just above the ground to create a mystical and menacing feeling, and the bright, colorful appearance to the Ochi world makes it feel like a true wonderland of fantasy and awe. It is a striking and consistently beautiful film. There are shots that feel like they have a glow about them, as though they emerged from a dream and it matches the wonder of that moment. This is especially true, early on, when Yuri and the baby Ochi first bond over her pet caterpillars or as they start to speak the Ochi language and Yuri picks up vocal intonations and harmonies that allow her to fully understand. The colors really pop in these scenes, while the reliance on close-ups and intimate framing intensify the mutual feelings of trepidation and love. Matching the impressive cinematography is the incredible puppetry, which relied on seven performers to bring to life the Ochi. Bringing these animals to life and lending them great emotional depth, these puppeteers enable The Legend of Ochi to have the kind of emotional impact that Saxon is after.

Nevertheless, The Legend of Ochi is held back elsewhere. The screenplay bears the worst marks of the influence of Wes Anderson with knowing, forced, and stiff dialogue that feels all together too formal and inauthentic to match the tone of the film’s story. Willem Dafoe throws himself into his role as Maxim, the World War I armor-clad faux military leader with a manic obsession about the Ochi, but his dialogue is especially awkward. It feels like a caricature Dafoe-esque character, clearly written for him but with too much of a forced oddity that makes him feel wholly inhuman. The sense of humor and irreverent approach often mirrors Wes Anderson’s comedic style, but without the flair and effectiveness of his films. It can feel like an emptied out recreation to The Legend of Ochi’s detriment.

This problem extends elsewhere with The Legend of Ochi’s overarching story never rising to the level of its intricate visuals and impressive puppetry. It is an overly familiar story that forces Yuri and the baby Ochi on a whimsical and elaborate journey, brings her back to her mother Dasha (Emily Watson), and culminates in an emotional pay-off for the strife in Yuri’s family life and in the baby Ochi’s own journey. While the bond between Yuri and the baby is adorable with many wonderful moments, these amount to just that: moments. Without the depth and nuance to carry it through its other narrative pursuits, The Legend of Ochi begins to feel hollow. The boys entrusted into Maxim’s army are left wholly undeveloped – there are echoes of the scouts from Moonrise Kingdom in their conduct, but when even Petro (Finn Wolfhard) who lives with Yuri and Maxim is left undeveloped and barely even named, they just feel like oddball window dressing – and beyond being an overlooked daughter of a toxic man (who preferred to have a son), even Yuri is left as a rather flat character unable to carry the film on her own. Her dialogue with Dasha and even with Maxim always feels the strain of trying too hard to be off-beat, never settling into a natural rhythm that never enables it to come together. The Legend of Ochi is far richer in the bond between the Ochi or the baby Ochi and Yuri, who never say an actual word but communicate multitudes in actions and harmonizing. In trying to also stick the landing on the human side of things, it feels hollow and undercooked.

Stuck too much in the emulation of its influences and lacking the rich human characters that could take it over the top, director Isaiah Saxon’s The Legend of Ochi nevertheless has promise. Serving as Saxon’s directorial debut, it is hard to not appreciate the awe-inspiring vision and wonder that is at the film’s core that could foretell, in time, Saxon rising to be a true visionary on his own terms. For now, The Legend of Ochi just makes him a name worth keeping an eye on, even if the film itself lacks the finesse and individuality to make it a wholly recommendable film.