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Five Thoughts on Hilda’s “The Windmill”

By | January 12th, 2021
Posted in Television | % Comments

The darker, more intense moments in Hilda always come as a surprise, although by this point they really shouldn’t. This series has never shied away from complex emotions or complicated circumstances. It’s filled with stories of mass extinctions, failed ambitions, abductions, loneliness, the crippling weight of adulthood, and the gradual erosion of legend and culture and identity. Even the most fantastic creatures struggle to get by, desperately clinging to the last remnants of their former selves.

Usually, Hilda cloaks these themes behind a bright palette and pleasant demeanor. There’s a great deal of empathy for its creatures and their plights. Episodes often end with Hilda helping them overcome their despair and move on, or with her finding ways to make their lives more comfortable. She offers a flash of hope, the promise of memory. 

And then, there are episodes like “The Windmill,” written by Luke Pearson and directed by Andy Coyle, where they throw all that out the window and fully embrace their more horrific elements.

1.) “The Windmill” liberally borrows its structure and imagery from fairy tales and classic Universal creature features.

It’s set in an abandoned, crumbling windmill in the middle of the woods. Lightning constantly crackles in the background. Something nefarious darts through the nearby trees. It’s filled with dark shadows and confined spaces. Coyle stages it so we’re kept at a distance, aware there’s something creeping in on Hilda, Frida, and David.

So much of the fun and enjoyment from “The Windmill” comes from watching the animators take these elements and dig into them.

Here we have an episode that mixes black magic with a mad scientist. The kids nonchalantly pass over ancient stone circles. A hidden lab machine bristles with electricity and amber light bulbs. The creature, a conjured Nisse, is a dim simulacrum of the actual thing, violent and menacing, its silhouette constantly lingering near the edge of the frame. Diagrams and drawings are tucked away in hidden crevices and though they probably don’t make scientific sense, their precise technical lines look terrifying and ominous.

At the center of everything is the mad scientist, another recurring character, angular and lean with hair that juts out in wild directions.

2.) It’s Victoria Van Gale

Since the events of “The Storm,” Victoria Van Gale has stationed herself in this abandoned windmill. She tells the kids she’s changed, that she wants to atone for her actions at the weather station. She’s a friend to nature now, and her only ambition is to help Trolberg.

David doesn’t believe her. He actually shows a great deal of bravery when its toward something he’s passionate about.

Coyle digs into the witch-in-the-woods imagery with her. Though the episode never explicitly refers to her as a witch, since witches are generally seen as sources of knowledge and learning in Hilda, the correlations to the wicked sorceress, the mad Madame Mim, are prevalent. In a sort of reverse Snow White bit of imagery, animals flock around her. Birds perch on her shoulder. Squirrels run circle-eights through her legs. Fawns linger nearby in the peripherals.

Pearson and Coyle also add an element where she bakes goodies for the kids. It’s ultimately a fake out, a distraction, all those lingering shots of Frida and Hilda devouring breads and cakes and other sweets, but the parallels have already been planted.

3.) David’s the slowest to extend any measure of trust toward Victoria Van Gale.

He’s unwilling to give her so much as an inch, certain she’s up to something. He refuses her food, he breaks into her basement, he glares at her at every turn, so unwilling to give her so much as an inch, certain she’s up to something. “I don’t trust Victoria any more than you, but I think you’re looking for something that isn’t there,” Hilda tells him. “She’s gone a bit loopy, yes, but look at this place. I don’t think she’s hiding anything.”

Thanks to her feigned kindness and amicability, even David eventually lets his guard down. “I think you’re still crazy,” he tells Victoria Van Gale. “You’re just not the dangerous crazy.”

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Which, of course, is an immediate call to bring peril and danger upon our plucky heroes.

While Hilda often puts its young characters in grave danger, there’s always a more vile and insidious element when the villain’s a person. The creatures and monsters may be frequently misunderstood, but a human has made conscious choices toward wickedness. Obviously, it comes as no surprise to us that Frida ends up tied up and a conjured Nisse stalks David.

4.) In her defense, though, Victoria Van Gale does seem to care for her manufactured Nisse.

She caresses it, she trusts it to assist her, she speaks with fondness and concern and maybe even love for her creation. Of course, the thing is aggressive, especially toward David. It’s made of tree stumps and discarded knobs. It looks like Tontu, but the only emotion it appears to feel is malevolence. It was created through black magic, old magic, and as any of us know, that has a high probability of exploding in its creator’s face.

And then there’s a scene where they accidentally pull off the reanimated Nisse’s face, and, well, it’s the stuff of nightmares.

Victoria Van Gale tells the kids she created her Nisse to help her out now that she’s isolated in the woods.

5.) Her actual desires are much less noble.

She actually sees the faux-Nisse as a way to access Nowhere Space, the inter-dimensional tunnels where the Nisse live and collect things. She wants to exploit it as a way to make more room for the Trolberg population while also preserving the woods and wilds around the city. She’s so preoccupied with her accomplishment she fails to see the vortex grow increasingly unstable. She single-handedly threatens to send the entire city into an alternate dimension.

Much like “The Storm,” without the property knowledge or respect of what she’s doing, the only thing Victoria Van Gale can hope to bring is destruction. “The Windmill” stresses that her actions are always for recognition and glory. This makes for such a huge, overwhelming drive she fails to see the damage she’s wrought until it’s too late.

Although David is the one most at odds with her, it’s Frida, with her precise organizational skills, general untidiness, and driving desire to expand her knowledge, who’s most reflected by Victoria Van Gale. Whether or not Frida heeds the warning, like how Hilda’s young audience is meant to take the warning, that exploration of how even the best intentions can easily go astray, is yet to be seen.

“When will you learn,” the episode screams, “that your actions have consequences?!”


//TAGS | Hilda

Matthew Garcia

Matt hails from Colorado. He can be found on Twitter as @MattSG.

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