The Legend of Ochi (2025) Review

Lately, much focus has been placed on the importance of supporting original movies. These films not only have the ability to really challenge the status quo, but can also cut through commercialized facades to instead really make us feel something. Such is the case with Isaiah Saxon’s feature film debut. Centered around a young girl, Yuri, finding kinship with a creature she’s been told to fear her whole life, it’s a movie that seriously encourages audiences to not only think about their relationship to nature, but also makes us question the narratives we’re told about marginalized groups. In an era of increased digitization and heightened polarization, The Legend of Ochi is an important, heartfelt addition to your local theater.

I can’t talk about this film without first and foremost showing a ton of love and respect for its use of practical effects. Saxon has said in other interviews that he sees cinema more like abstract painting, less a matter of striving for photorealistic naturalism than trying to capture a specific mood and atmosphere, even if it means sacrificing some of the ‘sharpness’ of an image. I can definitely see how that approach shaped a lot of the choices he made here. Sure, CGI probably could have smoothed shots of the Ochi jumping between treetops, but it wouldn’t have that handmade quality the puppets brought to the screen. These decisions ultimately build a layer of humanity into the film and help viewers feel more immersed. When we see a baby Ochi’s wide, innocent eyes blink at us thanks to the puppeteers just out of frame, we understand why Yuri decides to help it find its way home. The matte paintings used for backgrounds, many of which were done by Saxon himself, also make for a great way to stretch the $10.4M budget to even more epic lengths.

            Having described himself as a ‘filmmaker, not a director,’ it’s clear Saxon takes a holistic view of himself with regard to the creation process. He not only completed many of the meticulous background paintings, but also handled the fog VFX; but what impresses me most is his writing. It would’ve been easy to paint Maxim, Yuri’s dad, as a typically toxic alpha bro, but the writer-director’s decision to make him a deeply insecure man whose desperation for authentic connection ultimately turns him into a toxic liar crafts a very nuanced and thought-provoking viewing experience. He does heinous things, but by the time credits roll we can’t hope but wish him well. There were definitely some moments where pacing was affected by a willingness to luxuriate in the incredible visuals, but I’d place that blame more on editor Paul Rogers than the script. Throughout the runtime, we get many examples of Saxon’s ability to build character and develop plot in an efficient way.

  For much of the opening, viewers are kept in the tension between how the townspeople view the Ochi as horrible monsters that devour livestock and humans with reckless abandon versus how they actually look in the frame: scared animals being ambushed by humans with a deadly agenda. In a time where Americans are constantly inundated with propaganda painting whole groups of people as inhuman or unworthy of basic dignity, I found this plot point to be particularly poignant, making us not only consider how we view the Other, but also asking us to question the narratives we’re told about them. The Ochi’s nonhuman status also creates a social commentary on nature and how we interact with it. As we see humans burning trees in an attempt to flush out the Ochi, shooting at them in a blind bloodlust, only to later see how they’re gentle creatures who are capable of communicating in ways we can’t even comprehend, I’m reminded of when the sitting president proudly said ‘drill, baby, drill,’ and I was filled with an infinite sadness for all the amazing lifeforms that are going to be lost because of our corrupt greed. That being said, this film is no political manifesto; the solutions it offers are utopian and, to a certain degree, very liberal, but I also think anything else would be beyond the scope of a wide-release American children’s film. What it lacks in revolutionary politics is made up for in spades thanks to the acting.

 It’s been clear to me, but I’m glad to see many people finally start to admit that Willem Dafoe can do no wrong. He brings such a serious level of commitment to each scene, giving Maxim a very lived-in feel that brings us closer to him, and raising the emotional stakes in the process. Helena Zengel’s Yuri is less eccentric in terms of her screen presence, but she has a strength and a sense of humor that create a ton of opportunities for tonal dynamism, making a scene go from comedic to heartbreaking in a matter of moments. I will say Finn Wolfhard’s performance falls a bit flatter compared to these two, sometimes sounding as if he himself isn’t convinced of the lines his character’s reciting, always at a distance that stops us from really caring, but it doesn't affect our ability to be swept up by the story. Maybe that's thanks to the cinematography.

There’s no question Evan Prosofsky can shoot landscapes. His use of wide angles gives the Carpathian wilderness a gargantuan feel that makes it clear why you should see this in theaters instead of at home. Through his lens, the landscape itself becomes a character, and when the environment is so clearly visualized in terms of mood, more room is left for the director to focus on character development. I do think the movement of the camera could have been a bit more inspired, but the framing always felt exactly right, doing a lot to not just communicate mood but also establish the character’s psychological and emotional landscape, especially when it comes to depicting power dynamics within the relationships between characters. There’s a great mix of digital and film that allows for the effects to be seamless but still maintain a grainy quality to the image that provides a ton of texture and emotion. Being shot on the same lens that was used for classics like Casablanca (1942), this film is obviously not focused on super detailed images, and I think that adds to the mythic fairytale quality of the overall project. Like Saxon said, it’s less about photorealism than it is about evoking a specific emotional response, and this film absolutely managed to do that.

We live in dangerous times. Greedy despots are burning the forests, tricking people into hating each other, and we are currently living through the sixth mass extinction—this one being caused exclusively by humans. I’m not saying The Legend of Ochi offers any answers to these issues—it’d be unfair to place that weight on any one film—but I do think movies like this are, on a cultural level, how we can begin to question ways to reconnect with one another and our environment, and that first step is everything. It’s great to see such widespread outpouring of support for original films, because I think they’re in a unique position to really make us think and feel in a way we’re simply not used to anymore. Well-acted, beautifully shot and tenderly written, this is one to see in theaters.