'Forgotten Island' Review: A Delightful Animated Celebration of Friendship and Filipino Culture

When Hollywood's Parallel Thoughts Collide

In Hollywood, parallel thought is a funny thing. As in every other sphere, two or more people can have a similar idea at the same time, but when those ideas bloom into movies, their release can feel like a land rush. Which is more firmly cemented in moviegoers' memories, "Dante's Peak" or "Volcano"? "Lambada" or "The Forbidden Dance"? "Vice Versa," "17 Again" or "Like Father, Like Son"? (Trick question: it's "Big.") "Forgotten Island" is the second film of at least five this year with a plot that hinges on some kind of magic portal, but Universal's delightful animated adventure deserves to be remembered more for the creative and cultural elements that set it apart from its competition than those that overlap.

The film's potty humor, mostly depicted in anime-style 2D, shouldn't present too many viewers with a challenge, but Manang (Lea Salonga), the fearsome, vampire-like monster who pursues Jo and Raissa throughout the film, is violent and genuinely terrifying.

Voices of Friendship

Utilizing a dizzying panorama of Filipino mythology, longtime collaborators and "Puss in Boots: The Last Wish" co-directors Joel Crawford and Januel P. Mercado tell a familiar but moving story about friendship, brought to life through a vivid voice ensemble. Grammy-winning musician H.E.R. plays Josephine "Jo" Yuson, an overzealous elementary school student living in the Philippines, who befriends fellow classmate Raissa Molina (Liza Soberano) when they both get sent to the principal's office. A dreamer whose father abandoned her, Jo conflates her family history with Filipino lore, tracing the path of her grandmother Lola (Dolly de Leon) through the forgotten island of Nakali and believing fervently in its mythical flora and fauna.

Into the Real World

Fueled by Lola's encouragement, the two girls escape into an elaborate but imaginary world during adolescence, but with college looming for Raissa in the U.S., Jo is increasingly afraid of being left behind — especially after her grandmother passes. On the night before Raissa is set to depart for Caltech, Jo convinces her to have one last escapade together, but their celebration is interrupted when she uncovers a magical sand dollar that opens a portal transporting them to the real Nakali.

They awakens on a beach with the portal key gone and no memory of the previous night, although Raissa now has wings and they share a tattoo with Raww (Dave Franco), a were-aspin (a dog-human hybrid from Filipino folklore) who insists they asked him to be their island guide. Raww takes them to Batiba (Jenny Slate), a catlike creature who offers to help them return home — in exchange for the matching bracelets they made as kids, which hold all of the memories of their friendship. Instead, they set out with Raww to recover the magical sand dollar themselves, encountering a series of magical creatures — some helpful, others determined to kill them — as they try to find a way home before Raissa's flight leaves on the other end of the portal.

Adventure and Emotional Depth

Though "Forgotten Island" is rated PG, it not only borrows from more mature sources for inspiration (like "The Hangover") but is unafraid to be a little bit rude (a gastrointestinal phenomenon called "fire-rrhea" figures into the plot), and occasionally even scary. It's perfectly appropriate viewing for adults and older teens, but guardians of younger moviegoers — who will be mightily tempted by Truffle Wuffle (Ronny Chieng), the irresistibly cuddly king of the Duwende people — should use discretion. The film's potty humor, mostly depicted in anime-style 2D, shouldn't present too many viewers with a challenge, but Manang (Lea Salonga), the fearsome, vampire-like monster who pursues Jo and Raissa throughout the film, is violent and genuinely terrifying.

Yet that mix is exactly what makes the film so powerful, as it gently confronts younger children with some of life's inevitable realities — including sacrifice and death. Jo has maintained her wrecking-ball momentum since childhood, and now that she's faced with losing her best friend, the movie zeroes in on how painful it is for her to slow down and come to terms with this devastating change. Raissa, on the other hand, is accused of acquiescing to her parents' dreams for her by going far away to Caltech — but she hasn't been honest with Jo about a plan that was actually her decision.

Cultural Richness and Storytelling

These are conflicts that have been dramatized in any number of coming-of-age films where an ambitious teen realizes they've outgrown their troublemaking, underachieving best friend. What sets this particular version apart is the density of the Filipino mythology that Crawford and Mercado, themselves longtime BFFs, use to frame the adventure. Treating nature as a living organism with energy and emotions isn't especially unusual; including a narcissistic merman (named Mermahn, with the emphasis on the second syllable) is, especially when he has starfish nipple pasties that harmonize. Raww isn't just a semi-anthropomorphized pup, he's one of the free-ranging street dogs that roam Filipino cities.

The movie does a lot of table-setting to establish the various creatures that exist in Jo's imaginary world before we get to meet them in their actual habitat: a visually stunning combination of digital precision and hand-sketched details that read beautifully on screen, like an extreme closeup of the three-color printing process used for comic books. (See it in the best visual format you can find.) If you're not already familiar with the lore explored here, you may occasionally fall behind. (Sorry, who are these peaceful tree people again?) But each new environment is so unique and visually arresting that it's easy to let go and just enjoy the ride.

Voices That Bring It All Home

In addition to a lovely score by Nathan Matthew David, Crawford and Mercado frontload the film with classic '80s and '90s songs, most crucially INXS' "Never Tear Us Apart." H.E.R. and Soberano are exceptionally good as Jo and Raissa, the not-always-calm center of a storm of colorful characters. At 41, Franco still has the right cracked delivery for an adolescent, which fits Raww as naturally as fleas on a stray dog. As Batiba, Slate's borderline baby voice walks a nimble line between seductive and menacing, but Manny Jacinto is the real scene-stealer as a literal baby demon. As Mermahn, Kevin McCann is perfectly smug, vacuuming the air from most of his scenes, but the collective orbit of these supporting characters serves to externalize, fuel and eventually resolve the conflict between the two principals.

Seemingly intentionally, the film leaves some details unresolved — where's Jo's absentee father, and exactly what made Manang so bitterly angry? But whether or not they're breadcrumbs leading to another adventure, thankfully they're not what you remember on the way out of "Forgotten Island." Deeply felt and fully satisfying, Crawford and Mercado's odyssey is a wonderful cinematic experience — but for best results, watch it with a friend.