Written by Andreas Babiolakis

We’re covering the Academy Award nominees that we haven’t reviewed yet.

Chris Williams made a name for himself via Disney through some big releases (including Oscar winner Big Hero 6), so it only makes sense that he would try to go the distance on his own at some point. Now working with Netflix Animation, Williams has released The Sea Beast (well, he released it many moons ago at this point). This is clearly his The Secret of NIMH moment: his way of proving, like Don Bluth, that he is capable of so much more outside of the House of Mouse. This ambition is felt throughout all of The Sea Beast, and you can notice it right away from its nearly-two-hour runtime (!). I know the credits here take up over ten minutes, but this is still quite an ask for a family film that doesn’t really feel like it is built to sustain this duration. Still, I can’t shoo away an artist that is legitimately trying, and The Sea Beast is a noteworthy effort in other ways. The animation is quite something here, and I found myself trying to remember if this was a CGI or stop motion feature from the very first image of a civilian floating on a plank of wood in the middle of the ocean (for the curious, it’s the former). The animation upheld this standard of excellence throughout, down to the countless blemishes and scratches on Red Bluster (the titular, focal sea creature). The attention to detail is unreal.

There’s an epic story here that reminds me a lot, oddly enough, of what Disney was trying to tackle during the early aughts, like Treasure Planet or Atlantis: The Lost Empire; there’s a certain nostalgia for these neglected films that deserved more love than they received, and it may come in the form of animation artists having a second go with these narratives. The Sea Beast plants us in a world where sailor hunters are hired to kill creatures of the ocean to protect their shores and loved ones. This has been the norm for hundreds of years, until an abandoned girl, hiding on the ship of the squad on their next mission, acts as the outlier that questions this practice. She is looked after by a rather difficult hunter named Jacob (son of the head Captain Crow) as they chase after Red Bluster: a crimson serpentine behemoth that is considered their biggest enemy (for allegedly taking Captain Crow’s eye years before).

The Sea Beast occasionally gets carried away with the unchartered territories we visit while en route to Red Bluster (it’s not really the kind of film that should get too wrapped up in excursions, I feel), but it ends quite well on some strongly handled messaging during its grande finale, and it’s the kind of material that is important for kids to hear: sometimes, traditions are built upon problematic ideas, and we should be questioning why society partakes in these practices. My biggest takeaway is that Williams got a bit carried away with the first feature he was bestowed full creative control over. There are hints at something promising here, be it the director’s passion, imagination, and ability to treat his audience with enough seriousness.

I likely wouldn’t have gotten around to The Sea Beast if it wasn’t nominated for an Academy Award (I was held up when the film was released), but I’m somewhat glad I got around to it. Here’s a sneak preview of a director’s capabilities. I’d like to see where he goes next, as long as he follows one lesson: either tighten up his storytelling so every single moment counts, or justify the duration of a longer film by keeping us bowled over the entire time. Having said this, The Sea Beast is a noteworthy effort from someone that will surely iron out these kinks and keep going the distance.

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Toronto Metropolitan University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.