A24’s fantasy adventure The Legend of Ochi mistakes good vibes for good storytelling

The Legend of Ochi. // Courtesy A24

It’s always a bummer when content and concept don’t match up.

This is doubly the case with Isaiah Saxon’s The Legend of Ochi, a movie deeply inspired by practical effects-driven fantasies like E.T., The NeverEnding Story, and Labyrinth. Saxon and his crew attempt to reintroduce that same tactility — the movie’s main furry little guy is a stunning (and adorable) puppet — and it’s pretty effective.

Unfortunately, Saxon doesn’t give his human characters the same attention to detail.

Yuri (Helena Zengel) lives on an island in the Black Sea where mysterious creatures called Ochi roam the woods and terrorize local livestock. Yuri’s dad Maxim (Willem Dafoe) is an anti-Ochi zealot, having gathered a dedicated militia of local boys to help him hunt these critters down. His enthusiasm drove his wife, Yuri’s Ochi-loving mom Dasha (Emily Watson) away, to a hermit-like existence in the mountains.

One day, while checking traps around the farm, Yuri finds a juvenile Ochi with an injured leg who has been separated from his family group. Despite everything Yuri’s been told, he’s a cute little fella with a sweet musical voice, so after tending to his leg, she packs the critter in her backpack and runs away on a mission to get her new friend home.

There’s been some kerfuffle online about whether the title character is an AI creation; he’s surprisingly smooth-looking and has attributes (read: cute and whimsical) designed to distract less discerning viewers from the possibility that no humans were involved in its creation. Blessedly, the Ochi are real puppets, operated by skilled puppeteers.

The script, however, feels like someone entered the terms “E.T.,” “Taika Waititi” and “Wes Anderson” into ChatGPT and did some light copy editing on the result. This is by no means an accusation, but it does give you an indication of the surface-level character development.

There are tantalizing hints at complexity. Maxim’s right-hand man, Petro (Finn Wolfhard), an orphan he’s symbolically adopted because he has no biological son, is “only nice when no one is looking,” according to Yuri, and later becomes a (kind of, at a distance) tentative ally. We only know this because she says it, not because Petro ever demonstrates those characteristics — we don’t spend nearly enough time with the two of them to get that sense of relationship.

The Legend of Ochi. // Courtesy A24

Similarly, Yuri has a fraught relationship with her dad, who won’t let her join his hunts and seems to devalue her because she’s a girl. Maxim has an overloaded sense of dedication to legacy and self-mythologizing, but that’s all we see. When the mask finally drops in the third act, it’s not because he’s been challenged but because we’ve reached the point in the script where the family is supposed to come together.

The filmmakers Saxon draws inspiration from — Spielberg, Henson, Waititi, Anderson — would never make this mistake. They’re known for efficiently introducing those characteristics and conflicts early on, sometimes even using irreverent visuals and dialogue like the ones Saxon peppers throughout the script. It’s enough to make you wonder if he’s actually watched these movies closely, or just got wrapped up in the production design.

To be clear: The Legend of Ochi’s storytelling is so disappointing because the rest of the movie is so impressive. In addition to the adorable puppet, who resembles a capuchin monkey cross-bred with Gizmo from Gremlins, Saxon and the production team make strong use of the film’s natural setting (they filmed in Romania) and Eastern European cultural trappings. One scene in a grocery store features an incredible mix of music (courtesy of Dirty Projectors frontman David Longstreth), Meow Wolf-esque set decoration, and thrilling action. Another feature is the delicate visual and even more delicate sound design of a fuzzy caterpillar crawling across a metal flute.

Saxon’s background is in design and music videos, and The Legend of Ochi bears a concept-forward approach that works better in attention-grabbing short form than a feature-length film. Music videos are designed to sell a song or an artist. They have to look good and evoke feelings. A feature film has to do more than that — it has to deliver on the evocation. Perhaps with time, Saxon will evolve into a filmmaker who can do that effectively (good luck doing that with producers like the Russo brothers backing you). For now, though, style significantly overpowers substance.

The Legend of Ochi. // Courtesy A24