Falling in tone somewhere between Wes Anderson and 80s Jim Henson, A24’s fantasy-themed curiosity, The Legend of Ochi, has all the ingredients for an instant classic. A whimsical score that evokes nostalgia and timeless charm, stellar creature design that utilizes only practical effects, stunning cinematography that transports viewers to the faraway island of Carpathia and the storybook mountains of Transylvania—certainly, the pedigree both in front of and behind the camera will make this a must-see once it hits theaters in April. The Studio Ghibli inspirations feel purposeful. And yet, the simplicity of its narrative and many silly moments dull the power of Ochi’s imagery. Despite a downright adorable monster/human connection, The Legend of Ochi misses the mark by way of its meandering tone and lack of emotional resonance.
At a small island deep in the Black Sea, the people of distant Carpathia live from the land in a sort of harmony. This beautiful place, teeming with animals amongst a thriving farming community, houses a dangerous secret. The werewolf-meets-primate species known as the Ochi lurk within the forests; the first time we glimpse these creatures, their beady eyes creep out from the darkness, taking on a demonic quality. According to obsessive hunter Maxim (Willem Dafoe, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, The Fault in Our Stars), the Ochi are ferocious beasts responsible for the disappearance of the animals about town. Though unclear how frequent, Maxim often takes out a crew of young boys to hunt for Ochi. For seemingly the first time, Maxim’s daughter, greasy-haired loner, Yuri (Helena Zengel, News of the World, System Crasher), joins the party.
Yuri’s presence becomes the spark for change. In the film’s one true action sequence, the hunt goes horribly wrong, resulting in burnt trees and animalistic chaos. The next day, Yuri discovers a baby Ochi snagged in one of her father’s traps. When she lets it loose, the baby snarls at her and attempts to limp away with a bloody leg. Yuri scoops up the Ochi and brings it back to the sleazy cottage she shares with Maxim and her de facto brother, the orphaned Petro (Finn Wolfhard, Stranger Things, Stephen King’s It). In this enthralling first act setup, The Legend of Ochi zings with the energy of the unknown. A symbiotic friendship begins to form between Yuri and the Ochi—she teaches the Ochi the tenderness of touch, winning him over by growling back at him through gritted play-teeth she hides under the bed. If only the remaining hour had lived up to what comes before.
From here, Yuri nabs Ochi, and sets out on a journey to unite him with his clan. Their first stop: a surreal grocery store with young clerks who hold guns behind the counter to whip out at a moment’s notice. Maxim and his boys are hot on their trail, anxious to save Yuri from a potentially deadly scenario. Meanwhile, a local herder (Emily Watson, Angela’s Ashes, Corpse Bride) becomes ensnared in the ensuing action. I was fully on board until an Ochi bite changes the film at its core; as a result, what follows feels too empty to sustain a full length feature. While the middle should build to a satisfying climax, instead it pumps the breaks in a way that stifles the momentum. We do not see nearly enough of the titular Ochi. His tiny head peeks out of Yuri’s backpack occasionally, and they share tender moments involving bugs and the gentleness of touch. However, the Ochi should be more significant within their own tale. Baby Yoda and Gizmo of 80s gem Gremlins are undoubtedly major inspirations for the overall look of these creatures. Their backstory is hollow, but the Ochi themselves are easily the best aspect of this film. Their practical puppetry gives the Ochi a baked in charm missing from modern CGI creations.
The other characters, including Yuri herself, are altogether too hollow to be substantial. Zengel excels as Yuri anytime she gets asked to interact with her onscreen partner. Under the surface though, Yuri has been underwritten as well. Her voice cracks with the nervousness of adolescence. Petro constantly lingers in the background, but we never get a heart to heart between him and Yuri. He undergoes no development from beginning to end. We do not see anyone else interacting with the Ochi much either after that initial opening hunt sequence. There are inconsistencies too glaring to ignore as an adult, such as the herder and other characters fleeting in and out of being hopelessly dirty. A few plot holes are a bit harder to swallow, let alone the mention of bat serums and magic flutes. Perhaps the children in the crowd will be a bit more receptive. Surprisingly, Dafoe appears onscreen more than the Ochi do. His motivations are eventually laid bare, but whether or not they truly gel with the character we have seen up this point—chanting in Russian and ranting about the dangers of Ochi—may be in the eye of the beholder. Donned in full armor as if going into battle with dragons, Dafoe always entertains regardless of the given material.
Continuing the trend of immaculate A24 scores—see: Queer, The Brutalist, I Saw the TV Glow, Everything Everywhere All At Once, and so many more—The Legend of Ochi has one of my favorites to date. Composer David Longstreth has crafted an evocative, beautiful soundtrack that will stand the test of time. In a pre-screening introduction, director Isaiah Saxon reminds the audience that his labor of love took six years to bring to the big screen. His music video sensibilities certainly help to oversee a certain attention to detail in the visual angle that far surpasses the emptiness of its story. The tone jumps from over-the-top to quietly intimate without picking a lane. Hoping for the next E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial or The NeverEnding Story may lead to some disappointment. Still, there is enough good here to make modern fable Ochi more of a mixed bag than a disaster of any kind. Immaculate from a visual and sound perspective, The Legend of Ochi still cannot manage to fully overcome its narrative shortcomings and overly cheesy nature.
The Legend of Ochi beckons the audience to the island of Carpathia, in theaters everywhere on Friday, April 25th. Ochi also screened at 2025’s New York International Children’s Film Festival.
