The Legend of Ochi Review: Lost in the Mist

The Legend of Ochi channels ’80s fantasy classics with enchanting visuals but lacks the emotional depth to match the heart-tugging magic of its inspirations.

Set on the misty island of Carpathia, The Legend of Ochi follows Yuri (Helena Zengel, News of the World), a shy farm girl raised by her father Maxim (Willem Dafoe, Nosferatu) to fear the legendary Ochi—primate-like creatures blamed for every village misfortune. Maxim trains Yuri, Yuri’s adopted brother, Petro (Finn Wolfhard, Hell of a Summer), and other boys from the area to hunt the Ochi. When their ragtag troupe is on a routine recon mission, Yuri discovers an injured baby Ochi abandoned in the wilderness.

Making the bold decision to rescue it, Yuri begins a journey that challenges everything her community believes about these misunderstood beings. Along the perilous quest to return the creature to its hidden homeland, she confronts external and internal dangers, grappling with the rigid fear and inherited prejudice taught to her by her father. The closer she gets to reuniting the baby Ochi with its family, the more Yuri begins to understand her family origins and how her mother, Dasha (Emily Watson, Small Things Like These), came to abandon her years earlier.

After building a reputation for visually stunning music videos, including Björk’s celebrated “Wanderlust,” director Isaiah Saxon makes his feature debut with his original screenplay for The Legend of Ochi. The meticulous craftwork in the scenery and each perfectly framed shot speaks to his excellence in creating unforgettable images. His background in animation undoubtedly contributed to the look of the Ochi, a triumph of practical effects that are enhanced by seamless digital touches. These fantastic beasts move with almost uncanny authenticity, their creature features somehow expressing familiar emotions without ever feeling awkwardly anthropomorphized into cuteness.

Carpathia feels ancient and alive thanks to Evan Prosofsky’s cinematography, capturing the Romanian wilderness in lush, mist-drenched detail, and Jason Kisvarday’s production design melding seamlessly with the natural world. Elizabeth Warn’s costume design is a brilliant collage of rustic fabrics with folklore elements and subtle contemporary touches, reinforcing the film’s existence in what feels like a parallel reality rather than a specific period from the history books.

Where The Legend of Ochi stumbles is in forging the emotional connection that made its spiritual predecessors endure in our memory. Though David Longstreth’s score pulses beneath Yuri’s odyssey, hinting at amazing sights to come and seeming to understand the heart of the story, Saxon’s narrative hesitates to embrace its sentimentality. It’s clear the filmmaker knows how to show wonder, but he curiously seems reticent when it comes time to feel it. While there’s something distinctly modern and very on-brand for A24 in that restraint, it creates an often frustrating barrier.

Zengel brings bruised grit to Yuri, but her performance battles some odd choices. The prosthetic monster teeth Yuri uses to mimic the Ochi’s speech sometimes muffle her delivery, adding another layer of detachment between her and the audience. Always the pro, Dafoe makes Maxim more than a one-note fearmonger, instilling his will on children; he’s a man whose terror for the safety of his friends and neighbors curdles into control. Meanwhile, as Yuri’s adoptive sibling going through his own evolution, Wolfhard continues to grow in roles that speak to a career beyond his time on Stranger Things. You can always count on Watson to deliver an emotional wallop and true to form, she doesn’t disappoint as a woman who is reunited with the daughter she left behind, albeit under extreme circumstances.

The environmental themes resonate clearly without preaching, and the film’s emphasis on challenging received wisdom feels particularly relevant as we look to our future. It’s easy to admire what Saxon is trying to say with The Legend of Ochi, but the execution feels a little too self-serious at times, reluctant to let the messier emotions seep in. However, without that crucial sympathetic bridge between Yuri and her Ochi friend—that “E.T. phone home” gut punch—the film’s big ideas don’t land as sharply as they should.

For A24, it’s an intriguing venture into the family fantasy genre: lush, beautifully handcrafted, but emotionally aloof. For audiences, it’s a film that will no doubt thrill lovers of world-building and visual storytelling but may leave those craving convincing catharsis a little cold. Like the Ochi, the film remains fascinating but beyond our complete understanding. It’s often beautiful to behold but difficult to run wild with.

The Legend of Ochi is now available to watch in US & Canadian theaters, in UK & Irish cinemas, and globally in theaters.