LILO & STITCH (2025)

Having just revisited the original “Lilo & Stitch” before stepping into its live-action reincarnation, I was struck by the clarity of contrast: the warmth, humor, and quirky charm of the animated film lingered vividly in my mind. The new version, while visually appealing and earnest in intention, doesn’t quite replicate that spark—but it doesn’t need to, either. What it offers instead is a slightly more grounded, more emotionally tangible portrait of its human characters, even if it stumbles in other areas.

Maia Kealoha, in her debut as Lilo, brings a wide-eyed sincerity to the role—her performance is less about precocious wit and more about vulnerability. She’s endearing in the way early Little Rascals were—authentically sweet, a little offbeat, and entirely watchable. But the animated Lilo was something rarer: a deeply specific, stubborn, emotionally complex child who didn’t ask to be liked. In trying to soften her into something cuter, the film loses some of the original’s delightful unpredictability.

Sydney Elizabeth Agudong, as Nani, is superbly cast. Where the original leaned into Nani’s exasperation, Agudong gives us a young woman pressed beneath grief and responsibility, her warmth tempered by a palpable tension. She conveys, almost wordlessly, the ache of someone forced to grow up too quickly. It’s a performance of rare empathy, and it gives the film an emotional core that even the original, for all its greatness, only skimmed.

One of the more successful additions is Tūtū (played with affection by Amy Hill), the well-meaning, meddling neighbor who helps care for Lilo. Making her the grandmother of David—the surfing flame who barely escapes being a footnote in the original—is a clever narrative consolidation, and it brings some cultural grounding that the remake benefits from.

However, not all of the creative decisions land. The alien characters, including the famously chaotic Jumba and rule-following Pleakley, have been reimagined in human form, presumably to better integrate into the live-action environment—or perhaps simply to give more screen time to familiar actors like Zach Galifianakis and Billy Magnussen. The result is less endearing than it is distracting. What made those characters work in the animated film was their absurdity, their outsized designs and cartoon logic. Rendering them human feels like sandpapering away what made them distinct.

Tia Carrere steps in as the new social worker, replacing the now-iconic Cobra Bubbles. It’s a thankless swap, though mitigated somewhat by the presence of Courtney B. Vance, who plays a new CIA agent intent on capturing Stitch. It’s a nice nod to the original, but one that mostly functions as connective tissue.

Stitch himself remains largely untouched, and wisely so. Still voiced by director Chris Sanders, he retains his mischief, mayhem, and oddly touching loyalty. His digital rendering is as expected—serviceable, though not revelatory—but the character’s spirit, like that of Sonic or Paddington, survives translation.

In the end, the live-action “Lilo & Stitch” lands squarely in the growing catalog of Disney remakes we didn’t necessarily ask for but will politely examine out of nostalgia. It reminds us of what we loved about the original, even as it softens some edges and makes others strangely misshapen. The heart is there—just less wild, less weird, and less wondrous.

Still, I can’t shake the feeling that this film, like so many before it, is a placeholder. A promise that maybe, just maybe, Disney might follow up with something braver. Barry Jenkins’ “Mufasa”—a sequel/prequel to “The Lion King”—succeeded not because it recreated a classic, but because it dared to deepen and expand the story’s soul. One hopes Disney sees in “Lilo & Stitch” not just a brand to refurbish, but a world to enrich. The story of found family, of loss, of love without conditions—these are worth telling again. But they are also worth telling better.

VIEWED ON
Monday, May 26, 2025
Regal Canyon Country