I Am Frankelda review: what it misses in writing, it gains in aesthetics at Manchester Animation Festival 2025

★★★

Set in a world where a young woman’s imagined creatures materialise in a realm between existence and non-existence, I Am Frankelda promises to deliver an exceptional feat in storytelling. It is bold, unique, and ambitious - but its self-confidence in itself is, ultimately, not entirely justified.

The first scene introduces us to Francisca, a young girl with dreams of becoming a writer, sitting on a hill while her mother paints. The Francisca figurine has the appearance of being crafted by an affectionate hand, with big, curly hair and a wild but endearing intensity to the eyes that suggests a child with a lot of character. The picturesque scene soon makes way for tragedy, however, as Francisca’s mother dramatically coughs blood and is dead by the next scene, where Francisca attends her funeral. I tried to make allowances at this point, but looking back, this is where the problems begin. The writing feels rushed, Francisca’s mother falling dangerously into the impossibly-perfect-dead-mother trope who appears for so little time. One questions why she is even included at all – her grief does not serve any kind of driving force for the plot. And it could be a useful thing to harness. Falling into her cruel grandmother’s care, she is deeply unhappy, and her loneliness is impeded when she is isolated by her schoolmates who make fun of her stories. The loss of her mother could create some deep emotional notes, but this film neglects to play them. Moreover, she is treated kindly by a half-hearted attempt at a love interest so forgettable I can't remember his name, whose only narrative purpose seems to be having a father who is a publisher (he comes to her aid later, but is never seen in the aftermath and he is never brought up again, let alone thanked). I thought they were setting up some kind of Twilight-esque love triangle initially, but it’s like the writers couldn’t commit to this because there was too much going on elsewhere, so they abandoned ship.

We jump to the future where an adult Francisca is visited by Herneval, a strangely handsome creature with a human shape but owl-like features, who reveals himself to be the Prince of Spooks. His land, Topus Terrentus, is inhabited by Spooks manifested by her imagination who rely on the fears of humans to remain alive, but they are gradually fading. He invites Francisca to take a ghostlike form and cross the boundary between the Realm of Existence and the Realm of Fiction with him so that she might create nightmare stories to maintain their existence. Frankelda plays with fantastical concepts with an impressive confidence, and this is one example of how some of the strongest moments are in its most complex ideas.

However, some of its solidity starts to falter again when it deals with more basic matters. For one, it is obvious to anyone who watches a lot of TV and film that Herneval is being set up as Francisca’s main love interest, but it makes this too explicit, too quickly. After an expositional musical number on a boat trip, Francisca (now Frankelda) and Herneval lean in to kiss, but are interrupted. The lack of built-up chemistry leading up to this moment means it falls flat and is overall both the laziest and least subtle way to tell the audience you’re doing a romantic B plot. Once in Topus Terrentus, we meet the villainous Procrustes, a hideous but fantastically animated giant spider-creature who, as the Royal Nightmarer, is jealous of Frankelda’s writing abilities and schemes to drive the pair apart. The issue is that Procrustes is already a proven culprit for lying and betrayal - it is both frustratingly convenient and unrealistic that one of his later lies successfully drives a wedge between Frankelda and the Prince. This moment is a bad execution of what is easily my least favourite trope: unnecessary and easily resolved miscommunication.

Despite this, the story is not entirely unsuccessful. Frankelda and Herneval are both genuinely compelling characters, albeit their romance is initially slightly convoluted. The tension between the King and Queen of Spooks and an unruly court creates high dramatic stakes and make even this surreal stop-motion fantasy relevant to real life, as they attempt to dispel misinformation and maintain a weakening grasp on their kingdom’s peace. A scene in the middle introduces the seven clans, which gives us a collection of monsters that look straight out of a folk tale and add to the surrealist quality in an enjoyable way. Although it is a little hard to follow at times, I like the playing around of the concepts of dreams, fiction, and reality for its pushing of creative boundaries. But the ending feels rushed (though this may be because the film is a prequel to the series Frankelda's Book of Spooks), too much time is spent on fight scenes, and what could be the strongest pull of the entire plot – the opportunity to confront physical manifestations of Frankelda’s subconscious fears, through delving into her psyche – is barely utilised.

Nevertheless, I Am Frankelda is visually an inarguable triumph. Stop-motion is always impressive, but the creators of Frankelda exceed all expectations here. I’ll say that there are a few (short) moments where it is just noticeable that the world of Frankelda exists inside of a room somewhere. Also, some shots are disorienting because there is too much happening on screen at once and the camera does not linger long enough for the eye to get comfortable. Other than that, I was in awe of what the creators managed to do. The end credits played alongside behind-the-scenes of the film’s creation, and it was incredible to see a glimpse of the scale of work that had to be put in for such a stunning payoff. Beautiful sets, captivating colours, impressive character design, all obviously thought through down to the tiniest detail. Anyone who goes to see this can expect to see high-quality artistry.