Sketch Movie Review: Drawpocalypse Now

Seth Worley’s Sketch turns grief into crayon-born chaos in a heartfelt monster adventure full of color, emotion, and ’80s-style fun.

If Jurassic Park, Jumanji, and The Gate raised a child in a Norman Rockwell painting splashed with neon pencil dust and day-glo paint, you’d get something like Sketch. Worley’s introduction to feature filmmaking, seven years in the making, arrives with the kind of confidence that feels both familiar and just weird enough to keep you leaning forward, wondering what’s next. After Sketch premiered at TIFF in September 2024, Angel Studios’ million-member Angel Guild saw the potential in this kid-driven, colorful monster movie and greenlit its theatrical release. They weren’t wrong.

The story wastes no time setting its hook. Amber Wyatt (Bianca Belle) is processing her mother’s death the only way she knows how: by creating increasingly unsettling crayon-drawn creatures in her sketchbook. Her brother Jack (Kue Lawrence, The Summer I Turned Pretty) keeps peace between Amber and their distracted father, Taylor (Tony Hale, Hocus Pocus 2), who believes removing family photos will somehow expedite everyone’s healing. When Amber’s notebook falls into a mysterious pond, her doodles escape into the real world, and the small Tennessee town suddenly has a monster problem.

These aren’t standard CGI gremlins; they’re big, bright, and straight from a kid’s imagination, ranging from endearingly absurd to uncomfortably grotesque. Many of the drawings in Sketch stemmed from Worley’s creative pre-visualization process. He would start by sharing his ideas with a concept artist, who would then bring those ideas to life visually. From there, the writer-director-editor handed the concept art to his children, inviting them to reinterpret the designs in their own unique styles.

The performances beautifully anchor the story’s central focus on grief and resilience on screen. Hale sheds his familiar comedic persona to portray a man drowning in avoidance, delivering a nuanced take on paternal anxiety that never feels like a performance. This isn’t a sitcom dad dropped into chaos; it’s a father quietly unraveling while making well-meaning but misguided choices in the name of “moving forward.” He’s in the same boat as his children, processing unimaginable pain without any guidance.

Lawrence brings remarkable maturity to Jack without sacrificing his character’s essential childhood, especially when the situation reaches its breaking point. Instead of scripting him to act like a tiny adult with everything figured out, Worley lets Jack make mistakes, feel bad about them, and show how he’s finding a way past those slip-ups. Belle captures the complex emotions of a young artist whose creations have become dangerously real, finding depth in a role that could have easily become one-note. Her mix of stubbornness and vulnerability will be familiar to many parents of children around the same age, and Belle never overplays these emotional beats.

D’Arcy Carden (Barry) provides sharp support as Taylor’s sister Liz, but the character is more functional than fully fleshed out, existing mainly to nudge Taylor toward self-reflection. I would have liked to see more parallels between the Liz/Taylor and Amber/Jack sibling relationships, but there doesn’t seem to be time to explore the past and focus on the present problem. Kalon Cox steals numerous scenes as Bowman, a school bus bully who reveals himself to be more classically clueless than cruel, delivering Worley’s witty dialogue with perfect timing that suggests a bright comedic future in imaginative creature features.

Visually, Sketch’s aspirations are far above its budget constraints. Megan Stacey’s cinematography makes the handful of shooting locations feel expansive but special. Adding to the film’s coherence is Madison Braun’s production design, giving the town that timeless, “could be anywhere” quality that keeps the film from feeling dated. Sidney Young’s costume work subtly separates adults’ muted tones from the kids’ brighter palette. This visual metaphor becomes literal once colorful monsters begin leaving trails of chalk dust and wax shavings like a deranged Lisa Frank nightmare.

The VFX aren’t flawless, but they’re used smartly, often blending physical effects with digital flourishes. Some creatures are beautifully creepy, the blind “Tattler” and its alarm-monster sidekick being particular standouts, while others are gleefully absurd, but all feel authentically plucked from Amber’s notebook. Cody Fry’s score tips its hat to Zemeckis-era adventure films, complete with zippy brass stingers and percussive flourishes during chase sequences, adding to the film’s modern 80s-style adventure vibe.

At just 94 minutes, Sketch carries surprising thematic weight, asking: What if our pain took physical form? Could creativity born from trauma help us heal? These aren’t typical heartfelt monster adventure concerns, but Worley, expanding on ideas from his earlier short Darker Colors, weaves them seamlessly into his story. The cultural relevance feels particularly sharp now, when children’s mental health struggles often baffle adults.

What makes Sketch stick is how it treats its premise seriously enough to find its emotional core without losing sight of the fun. This is, fundamentally, a story about grief. Not the movie version where everyone learns neat life lessons in the third act, but grief approached like a parent who explains the unexplainable to a ten-year-old: gently, honestly, with space for absurdity. The monsters aren’t heavy-handed metaphors, but you can feel Worley’s subtext in the chaos he creates. Heartache will make a mess, sometimes in ways you can’t control, but cleaning it up is rarely a solo job.

The PG rating is fair, though parents with sensitive children might want to prep them for a few intense sequences. However, there’s a sweetness running through the mayhem, a belief in kids’ resilience and the necessity of connection that keeps it from ever feeling mean-spirited. Worley has pulled off something tricky: a family fantasy that feels like an ’80s throwback but entirely contemporary. It’s messy in the right ways, earnest without being slathered in syrup, and clever enough to reward repeat viewings.

Sketch succeeds precisely because it refuses to talk down to its audience while delivering the colorful monster movie goods. Worley has crafted something genuinely different: a thoughtful family movie that respects both its young heroes and adult viewers. It’s confident, original filmmaking that feels increasingly rare. The best creature features aren’t about the monsters, but the human struggles they symbolize. Sometimes the most powerful way to face our demons is to draw them first, then fight them together.

Sketch will be released in US theatres on August 6, 2025.