I became obsessed with “The Wild Robot” from the moment I first saw the trailer.
If you aren’t aware, “The Wild Robot” is based on a 2016 young reader sci-fi trilogy by Peter Brown. It is set in a futuristic universe, where humans have developed robots that can become widely integrated in their everyday lives (this line is called “Rozzums”). The main character, Rozzum 7134 (or “Roz,” as she comes to be known) is such a robot in transit, when a storm knocks the delivery off-course and leaves Roz stranded on an island full of only animals. She ends up befriending Fink, a self-serving fox, and accidentally adopting a gosling she names Brightbill.

I was immediately taken with even just the idea of the film, from the painterly nature shots of lush forests, sunsets and butterflies and the promise of found family. But it was a while longer before I was able to watch it, and in that time, I heard mixed reactions about it, from “It was okay” and “I’ve watched it three times already, and I’m going back to the theater to watch it again.” Having seen it twice now, I would say I’d fall more into the latter camp.
There’s a lot in this movie I enjoy, from Dreamworks’ continuation of the 3D-animation-combined-with-2D-details-painted-on-top style we’ve seen in “The Bad Guys” and “Puss in Boots: The Last Wish,” from the parent-child relationship, to vulnerability and love and acceptance, but for the sake of brevity, I’ll mostly be talking about the autism-coding in the film.
Both the original trilogy and the movie had themes of “otherness” — feeling like an outsider, if you’re not familiar with that term — and I mostly interpret Roz’s otherness in particular through the lens of autism. Of course, that’s not to say those are the only “other” experiences in the film that can be related to — I did see parallels to immigration while I was watching too.
To me, Roz is heavily autism coded. For starters, there’s the fact that she is literally wired differently than everyone else on the island — the animals all have flesh-and-blood brains, while Roz is powered by a processor. Neurodivergent brains are often described as being “wired differently;” that is, brains that are neurodivergent function and develop differently than those of neurotypical people. Autism spectrum disorder is a neurodiverse condition.
Autism is usually diagnosed by symptoms that fall into two main categories. The first category is restrictive and/or repetitive behaviors, interests and activities. Roz displays a few symptoms in this category; she has an obsessive interest with task completion and displays a strong need to follow certain routines, such as constantly trying to activate return protocol the moment she doesn’t have a task. She also displays several symptoms that fall into the second category: deficits in social communication and social interaction.

For starters, she has difficulty in understanding what others are thinking. From the moment she arrives on the island and begins interacting with the local wildlife, it is clear Roz does not understand their reactions to her. She is met with screams and animals running away from her, which, to most people, would be a clear sign that they are not interested in talking; still, she chases after them persistently, repeatedly asking, “Do you need assistance?”
Similarly, Roz also completely fails to understand social rules. This is shown in several ways: in her bluntness and her struggles to name Brightbill something that is not “Gosling 0001,” but is also highlighted through her refusal to participate in violence, as the social norm on the island is for everyone to eat everyone. When Roz first begins to interact significantly with Fink, he tells her, “You need to understand how things work on this island,” clearly disapproving of her pacifism and attempts to help everyone. Still, she refuses to assimilate. She prevents Fink from eating Brightbill, yes, but she also prevents Fink from eating geese who were mocking her and Brightbill. Roz is unflinching and unyielding in her morals.
You might be thinking, “Okay, so you think this robot has autism. Why does it matter?”
And I guess in a lot of ways, it doesn’t. But watching Roz’s socially awkward blunders and overly direct nature reminds me of myself. The number of times I said “me” while watching Roz fail a social interaction (which is a thing that is possible to do) was not low. And it’s so refreshing and hopeful to see someone like that on a screen — someone whose thinking and functioning doesn’t align with the norm, but who isn’t hindered by it.
Roz is autism-coded, but that isn’t what defines her. She is also unbelievably determined and kind. Because ultimately, despite her frequent failures to understand others, and at times her apparent lack of sympathy, Roz does care about every individual on the island, even though most of them scorn her. For neurodivergent people, or even just socially awkward people, Roz could serve as both a mirror and an inspiration.
She exists within the society of the island, but at the same time, remains somewhat outside of it, refusing to give in to its harsher demands and social rules, choosing again and again to be kind. Her “otherness” becomes a strength. Later in the film, Roz saves the entire island from a horrible winter storm by cramming them all into her home, forcing the animals to agree to not eat each other and get along until the storm is over. Had Roz given in and taken up violence, the majority of the animals wouldn’t have survived to come together and agree to change their society for the better.
At its core, there is kindness in “The Wild Robot”; both in the film itself and in its titular character. And perhaps this is naive and idealistic of me, but don’t you want to believe that no matter how many horrific things come to pass, kindness will still outlive it all?
