The tender, fantastical world of Hilda is easy to get lost in. Based on the graphic novels by British cartoonist Luke Pearson, the gently melancholic animated series follows the titular character, a spirited, blue-haired 11-year-old, on slice-of-life adventures around the town of Trolberg.
Pearson’s drawings come to life as Hilda and her mother, Johanna, move from the mountains to the city, and the young girl is forced to integrate into school and socialisation when she’d rather be exploring nature. Prior to moving, her only friends were her pet deer-fox, Twig, a helpful elf, Alfur, and a mysterious neighbour, Wood Man. Upon arrival in Trolberg, she joins the Sparrow Scouts and befriends two human children, the strait-laced Frida and easily frightened David.
Each episode is titled as a chapter, but they aren’t particularly sequential – most stand alone as single stories, following Hilda and her friends’ adventures, whether they are looking for a lost library book, capturing baby trolls or learning witchcraft. There are also multi-chapter stories, unfolding like small films that are dazzling in their meticulous world-building. The series pushes the boundaries of storytelling beyond the graphic novels’ world, especially in the second season, which ups the stakes through more daring plotlines.
Hilda’s world straddles the supernatural and the ordinary – the show’s magic realism is much of what makes it unique. Much of the first season involves her learning how to exist in a non-magical world, and her friends learning of the existence of magic. Even so, there are discoveries to be made, many of which reveal truths about the world – for instance, when Hilda learns about Nisse, small house spirits that live in unused spaces in every home. Human attitudes towards these creatures resembles racism, but Hilda tries to see the best in everyone and gets to know the Nisse as individuals, forging a friendship with one in particular.
As any good children’s television show should be, Hilda is concerned largely with themes of courage, friendship and community, though not in a didactic manner. The character development of the central trio is subtle but clear, particularly in the character of David, who learns to be brave. But, as Hilda tells him, “fear can be good” – there’s no black and white thinking here, encouraging children to embrace all parts of themselves.
Hilda herself can be difficult, and her relationship with Johanna becomes more strained as the series goes on (typical of a mother-daughter dynamic when the child enters adolescence) but the love and care between the characters is never in question. There’s also a healthy dose of anti-authoritarianism, as Hilda and her friends find out that adults in positions of power – for example, Hilda’s favourite weather woman, Victoria Van Gale – often have no idea what they’re doing. From there, the kids take matters into their own hands.
On an aesthetic level, Hilda is incredibly pleasing. Pearson’s artwork leans heavily on an autumnal palette, breathing life into Hilda’s Scandinavian surrounds – leaves, mountains, trees – with the character’s shock of blue hair providing a beautiful visual foil. The library, a central setting in the show, is one of the most visually compelling animated sets I’ve ever seen, all arches, dim lighting and perfectly aligned books; while a house in the first season – enchanted so the characters can’t escape – has a looping, Escheresque design.
Musically, too, the series is a treat, from the glitchy instrumental theme song by Grimes to perfectly soundtracked moments by Ex Hex and Walter Martin and, much to my delight, Melbourne band Twerps’ Back to You. The music of Hilda spans the last decade of indie and electronic (remember Dan Deacon?), lending a nostalgic feel to a show that captures so much of the magic and innocence of childhood.
Funny, sweet and moving, Hilda has been a balm in a difficult period and has strong appeal for adults and children alike. We could all be a little more like Hilda – and with a third season and a film on the way, she’s got plenty of time to grow even more.
