Set to be adapted from its original graphic novel form by Blue Sky Studios, N.D. Stevenson’s Nimona nearly met an untimely demise when the studio was shut down by Disney in April 2021. However, much like its titular character, the Nimona film would not go down without a fight and was resurrected after being picked up by Netflix and for that we are lucky.
The film follows Sir Ballister Boldheart (Riz Ahmed), a disgraced knight now on the run after being framed for the Queen’s murder, and his “sidekick” Nimona (Chloё Grace Mortez), a shapeshifting teenager who, in a case of what can only be called ‘reverse adoption’, offers her services to help him carry out his “evil” plans.
This high fantasy action takes place in a quasi-medieval dystopia, where carriages are replaced by flying cars, crossbows are laser-guided and, sometimes, knights have scrap metal mechanical arms. The world bounces between a dark, high-tech underbelly and a classical, gilded upper crust to create a striking visual landscape that draws the eye to every corner. Breaking away from its comic-style origins the movie mingles 3D animation with 2D finish, a style which has risen to popularity in recent years with shows and movies like Arcane (2021), Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018) and Puss in Boots: The Last Wish (2022). This mix perfectly fits the realm of mingled time periods and aesthetics that the movie is set in and gives the world a stylised, whimsical quality; as though the characters were plucked straight from the pages of a storybook. That is, of course, if that storybook had been vandalised with crude, graphically violent doodles. The original art style of the comic appears in the film in doodles such as these, courtesy of Nimona herself, and provides a delightful easter egg for long-term fans.
The world bounces between a dark, high-tech underbelly and a classical, gilded upper crust to create a striking visual landscape that draws the eye to every corner
The humour is dark, witty, and delightfully quirky, with well-timed and often animal-themed slapstick. The protagonist duo makes for a mismatched but highly comedic pair, with Nimona throwing out ill-timed quips left and right much to the chagrin of a panicked, extraordinarily tired Ballister, which combined with his own brand of dry, borderline hysterical jokes makes for several laugh out loud moments. The action is fast-paced and extraordinarily choreographed, with the film making use of dynamic camera work throughout that leaves your head spinning and an exhilarated smile on your face.
However, the true gem of Nimona can be found in its core messages on otherness and the danger of equating difference to malevolence. Ballister is defined by his difference from the beginning of his story. Chosen by Queen Valerin to train as a knight despite his lack of noble background, he acts as the first of his kind and has rarely been treated with kindness because of this. It is in fact precisely for this reason that he is set up as the scapegoat for the Queen’s murder, an event that takes place at the very ceremony that would officially dub him a knight of the realm.
On this note, this is a movie with queerness at the heart of its story. Ballister’s romance with fellow knight Ambrosius Goldenloin (played by the indomitable Eugene Lee Yang) is front and centre, a rarity in children’s animation, and is written neither without depth nor complexity. Ambrosius is the city’s golden boy, a symbol of all its so-called glory, and as such its ideology is entrenched in him. Despite their relationship, when his lover is accused, he gorily sides with the kingdom, severing their relationship along with Ballister’s arm. This is when Nimona first learns of Ballister; villainised and othered and offers her aid along with her friendship.
Nimona herself is an embodiment of queer, and in particular trans experiences. Her ability to shapeshift has set her apart as a “monsterous” outcast in a world that demands unquestioning loyalty, uniformity, and conformity. In a particularly powerful scene Ballister, who is still grappling with abandoning his kingdom’s bigoted mindset, asks her why she chooses to simply not shapeshift. He acknowledges it as a “small-minded” question and attempts to take it back, however Nimona, recognising his efforts at understanding her, explains that to not change her shape would kill her. She would be physically alive, but she wouldn’t really be living. For Nimona her ability to transition as it is not simply an ability, but a need, an integral part of who she is. Though she may face ostracism and violence, she simply has no choice but to be herself, because to hide would be to murder a vital part of what makes her Nimona. Despite the entire world telling her she shouldn’t, Nimona wants to live, and more importantly by the story’s end, it is reaffirmed that she deserves to, even if she sometimes struggles to believe it.
For Nimona her ability to transition as it is not simply an ability, but a need, an integral part of who she is. Though she may face ostracism and violence, she simply has no choice but to be herself, because to hide would be to murder a vital part of what makes her Nimona.
This movie is a triumph of animation with a queer beating heart and although it might diverge from its darker source material it is a gift for new and old fans alike. Though he stumbles along the way Ballister learns that Nimona’s difference is not something that should be driven out or shunned, and in doing so he comes to feel the same about his own. In this and more the story speaks to the power of self-acceptance in standing against corruption and bigotry, as well as the role of othering and ignorance in creating a “monster”. An explosion of colour right out of a fairytale, Nimona is a love letter to the value of found family in queer spaces and the often epic feats involved while on a journey of self-discovery and self-love.
WORDS: Laura Kelly
