Written and directed by Vanessa Esteves, co-written by Kevin Micallef, a reclusive owl finds his peaceful solitude is disrupted when a tiny bug unknowingly moves into his home. Determined to get rid of the uninvited guest, the owl embarks on a series of comical yet misguided attempts to reclaim his space. Narrated by Benedict Campbell.
Right from the beginning Christopher & the Bug greets viewers with the quintessential feel of classic, wholesome family cinema, especially with its Christmas setting. The atmosphere is warm and friendly, the tone is graceful and jovial, and it feels pulled straight from the pages of a children’s book. The writing taps into that familiar sweetness and creates a story of personal growth, as so many family tales do. Creating a typically grumpy, hermit character who just needs a little help to find the joy in friendship. It’s sweet, has a touch of Seuss and old-school Disney, and impressively manages to avoid feeling overtly sentimental.
That’s all then wrapped in a beautiful animated visual which has such excellent textures. The way that it flows is comforting and curious. It has a wonderful use of colour, and that hand-drawn style is inherently charming and inviting. The way that the animators and designers create Christopher’s home to make it a very realistic portrayal of a home (though it’s usually for a person, not an owl) makes for a really nice contrast versus its overall warmth and softened edge.
The narration from Benedict Campbell is the cherry on top, it’s the exact type of tone, timbre and gravitas that most people will connect with classic family cinema. It immediately takes you to that wholesome, hopeful, empathetic place. It’s heart-warming and presents that great mix of a neutral observer with a glimmer of bias, wanting to nudge the characters in the right direction. There’s a cheekiness to it in a typically British way, which is interesting coming from a Canadian film.
Christopher & the Bug is an effortlessly charming adventure. The animation is incredible and captures that incredibly nostalgic feel of films from your childhood. It’s perfectly wholesome, the narration is fantastic, and it’s familiar in the best of ways. Put simply, it’s a very lovely short film, and it’s an unquestionable bonus that it never feels stereotypically sentimental, it feels genuine and sweet.
