As time has progressed, we have become slightly cynical of the dominance the two major animation studios have over the industry – The Walt Disney Company and Pixar Animation are the gold standard, but they have become increasingly lazy, producing works that aren’t nearly as ambitious or wholeheartedly brilliant as the ones made at their peak, and whatever masterpieces they have made in recent years are few and far between. However, this sense of scepticism has allowed us to look elsewhere to find alternatives, and gradually we have found that Illumination, which started as a small independent animation studio that was criticized for its pale imitations of the bigger studios’ work, has been crafting films that are good enough to stand with some of the greatest of the past few years. It may be presumptuous since they are clearly at their peak, but they may have just made the film that will help define them as more than just the studio behind the Despicable Me franchise in the form of Migration, which is far and away their best work to date, and the film that will likely show that there is room for genuine brilliance within a studio many dismissed quite early on. This film takes a very simple premise – a group of mallards decides to take the risk of migrating from the comfort of their beautiful pond to the wilderness of Jamaica, much to the chagrin of their neurotic patriach, encountering a range of obstacles on their wacky adventure – and transforms it into a wonderfully entertaining, compelling animated comedy that is oddly resonant with a much wider audience, who will likely find a lot of merit in what appears to be a relatively simple film that conceals a few elements that will take even the most cynical of viewers by surprise as they witness some of the unique ideas scattered throughout this film.

Most of the brilliance of Migration comes from the creative individuals tasked with bringing this story to life, and the two names that stand at the helm of the film are unexpected but oddly quite fitting for this material. The film was written by Mike White, who has tried his hand at animation in the past (notably serving as a writer on The Emoji Movie, which is perhaps not the most appropriate title to mention if we are going to discuss his merits as a writer), and directed by Benjamin Renner, who is best known for the astonishingly beautiful Ernest & Celestine and The Big Bad Fox and Other Tales…, two major achievements in contemporary animation, both of which show that he is not only a gifted animator but that his background as a graphic novelist has given him a keen sense of how to tell a story effectively through images. Their involvement alone immediately indicates that Migration is bound to be something special. This is a film that is going to appeal to all viewers, which is something that is becoming increasingly rare with a lot of contemporary animation, which tends to target a specific quadrant of the audience more than casting a wider net. The promise of stunningly beautiful animation that both shows how far the technology has come, but retains the heart of the more traditional works of yesteryear, are all appealing enough to draw us in, and the humour oscillates between gently amusing, skirting around the boundaries of being bawdy without actually becoming inappropriate, which is something else that we rarely find being done nearly as well as it is here. It offers solid, full-bodied entertainment that is thrilling but also very genuine in how it approaches deeper themes and becomes such a profoundly moving work of contemporary animation, something we may not have expected at the start.

White has been working as a writer for nearly a quarter of a century, and while he has worked in every conceivable genre and medium, telling a range of different stories that vary in tone and intention, one aspect that binds his work together is that they are almost always going to have some profoundly deeper meaning, even when they seem to be entirely void of any merit – very few of us are looking at The Emoji Movie or Pitch Perfect 3 for complex conversations on the human condition or the nature of existence. This certainly does extend to Migration, which touches on themes that are much broader than we initially may have believed possible. Primarily, it focuses on the concept of family, which is not an uncommon theme in this category of animation, which aims to look at the importance of respecting and appreciating our family members. This is the obvious foundation of the film, but we soon find that it quite impressively touches on much broader issues as well – the theme of independence comes up consistently, particularly in the younger characters, as does anxiety and depression, which may seem like oddly mature themes for a film targetted at children, but it proves that you are never too young to learn about these emotions and see that there is a path forward for those who experience it in some way or another. Even some of the marginal themes – cult mentality, enslavement and cultural identity – make an impact in the story, which is a strangely layered tale of a group of eccentric characters encountering various obstacles on their journey to a better life, which is an allegory for a lot of common themes that White and the rest of the individuals involved in crafting this film intended to infuse into every moment of this wickedly entertaining and profoundly moving comedy.

The characterization in Migration is quite strong, which is the primary reason why it has drawn a lot of comparisons to early Pixar, which was all about creating characters that feel human, even when they were often technically about as far from being human as possible. Much of the impact comes from choosing the right actors, and the cast of this film is quite impressive – the story is led by Kumail Nanjiani and Elizabeth Banks, both hardworking actors who may not seem like the most exciting choices in theory, but prove to bring warmth and consistency to these roles. Nanjiani in particular is fantastic at playing up his character’s innate neuroses and anxieties, and not since Albert Brooks in Finding Nemo have we had an animated character that represents parental angst and despair quite as much as we do with him. The supporting cast is also excellent, with newcomers Caspar Jennings and Tresi Gazal playing the young leads, with unforgettable appearances from the always brilliant Danny DeVito and the wildly creative Keegan-Michael Key, both of whom infuse the film with their trademark madcap energy, but also bring a lot of warmth to these otherwise one-dimensional roles. No one in Migration is doing revolutionary work, but there is consistency in how they work to bring these characters to life, and while it may seem like a relatively simple task in theory, they all deliver consistently great performances that fit the tone and nature of the film perfectly and help make these characters much more captivating than simply being the limited archetypes that they could have been in a lesser film.

In recent years, animation has skyrocketed in both popularity and accessibility, particularly with the technology becoming available for far more filmmakers to try their hand at the art form. The result is an overabundance of animated films, many of them produced by independent studios and thus having an uphill climb to get seen, since without the label of a major company and their widespread distribution, it can be challenging to make an impression. Illumination worked in the trenches for years and is at the point where they are producing some of the most striking and interesting work in the industry, while it may be one of their simple stories, Migration represents a major step forward for a company that is often taken for granted when looking at contemporary animation. Yet, seeing how this film operates, we’re struck by a lot of its merits – the animation is beautiful, being gorgeous, proving that a simple approach can always be the most effective. The writing is sharp and genuinely witty, and while White’s talents are usually better suited towards more adult-oriented fare, he still adapts his humour to be perfectly appropriate for the context of this film, which is a lot more engaging than we may have initially expected. It’s by no means a perfect film, and there are several plot holes and developments that don’t quite make sense (such as an early encounter with a seemingly dangerous heron, and the turn in the character’s persona are truly bewildering), but these are minor shortcomings in a genuinely strong film that brings a lot of heart and soul to a straightforward concept. The bitingly funny screenplay is matched by the striking imagery, and the overall experience proves the industry is still capable of making genuinely terrific animated films, we often just need to look beyond the obvious and give the more unique productions a chance.