‘Kensuke’s Kingdom’: Annecy Review

Dir: Neil Boyle, Kirk Hendry. UK/Luxembourg/France. 2023. 84mins

This traditional 2D hand-drawn animated adaptation of Michael Morpurgo’s 1999 novel follows the unlikely friendship between elderly Japanese former soldier Kensuke (voices by Ken Wanatabe), the sole inhabitant of an island in the Indian Ocean, and an 11-year boy who washes up on the beach after falling overboard during a family sailing trip. The film, directed by veteran animator Neil Boyle (whose credits as an artist include Ethel & Ernest, Space Jam and The Jungle Book 2) and Kirk Hendry, may seem a little rudimentary at first, but builds in emotional power during its second half.

 The message – that we should work together despite cultural differences to protect the natural world – is more relevant than ever

The popularity of Morpurgo’s novel will be a selling point for Kensuke’s Kingdom after its Annecy premiere, particularly for the parents of older children looking for animated films that tackle weighty themes and ideas (such as, here, cross-cultural collaboration and stewardship of the natural world) rather than just offering empty noise and thrills. And while the animation itself is not particularly distinctive, it’s a handsome production – spearheaded by the UK’s Lupus Films, which also produced Ethel & Ernest – that juxtaposes a sparse graphic character style over a background that shifts, mercurially, to match the mood of the young central character. It’s the feature directing debut of both Boyle, who made award-winning short The Last Belle and Hendry, who also has directed one animated short, Junk.

This strong aesthetic choice is particularly effective when young Michael (Aaron MacGregor) and his border collie Stella first wake on the island; a meagre strip of sand flanked by formidable cliffs and topped with a tangle of jungle. They find themselves on a land mass that is shrouded in a dense fog – at first it almost seems that they might have perished in the water. But the amorphous shapes and muted, spooky shades of grey reflect the fear and uncertainty that Michael feels in this alien place, far away from the rest of his family. As he becomes more confident, the island reveals its beauty, and the colour palette is saturated with succulent greens and sun-kissed citrus hues. While Michael initially believes the island is unabited, one night Kensuke leaves food for him and a connection is made.

The writer Frank Cottrell-Boyce’s adaptation of the source material deals smartly with the fact that the communication between the elderly Japanese man and the English boy is non-verbal. The relationship between the pair is initially testy, but a connection grows as they exchange life stories through drawings using handmade paint brushes and ink crushed from the petals of a flower. Kensuke’s story in particular – he was a sailor on a torpedoed Japanese battleship, whose wife and child lived in Nagasaki – is exquisitely handled.

This emphasis on the visual element of communication and storytelling is a gift for the animators, and it also presents opportunities for a richly textured soundscape, full of jostling bird calls and buzzing bugs. Less successful is the score, which can feel rather overbearing and unnecessarily assertive, swamping the delicacy of the work elsewhere. Still, the ending is quietly devastating and the message – that we should work together despite cultural differences to protect the natural world – is more relevant than ever.