Moana (2026) (United States, 2026)

If the goal with Moana is to make money, Disney is probably in a safe space. Almost all of the live-action adaptations of animated films have been financially successful to one degree or another, with only the reviled Snow White failing to break even during its theatrical run. The challenge faced by Moana is one of proximity. The original film came out only 10 years ago, and the animated side of the franchise is still alive and kicking with Moana 2 arriving recently and indications that a Moana 3 will start production in 2027. So, it's difficult to determine whether adding a live-action version at this stage risks muddying the waters.

It's hard to argue that there's any reason to prefer the live-action iteration over the animated one. Devoted fans will undoubtedly want to see the new movie, and kids (who will watch anything they enjoy countless times) won't care, but there are slim pickings here for someone interested in a fresh take on the story. Because Disney's mantra is not to mess with success, they have basically stuck to the essence of the narrative, varying only in bland, non-controversial ways. The result feels plastic, predictable, and pointless.

The story is pretty much the same. The title character (Catherine Laga'aia replacing voice actor Auli'i Cravalho, who has "aged out") lives on a remote Pacific island with her father, Chief Tui (John Tui); mother, Sina (Frankie Adams); grandmother, Tala (Rena Owen); and idiot pet chicken, Heihei. When a blight threatens the island's survival, Moana follows her ancestors by going out to sea, defying a long-standing ban against seafaring in search of the demigod Maui (Dwayne Johnson). If she can persuade Maui to return a stolen artifact to the goddess Te Fiti, she believes prosperity can return to all the poisoned islands. The preening, self-centered Maui, however, appears indifferent to Moana's pleas and decides instead to search for his missing magical hook.

Truth be told, a story this fantastical stumbles badly when translated into reality. In addition to requiring much unconvincing CGI, it also encounters narrative stumbling blocks. Elements that feel perfectly natural in a cartoon, such as the anthropomorphized Heihei or the singing giant crab Tamatoa (Jemaine Clement), fail to convince in flesh and blood. While Moana's signature song, "How Far I'll Go," works well enough in the new setting, Maui's "You're Welcome" falls a bit flat, despite all the animated shenanigans drafted to help it out.

I was frankly surprised at how cheap the movie looks, despite carrying a sky-high reported production budget of about $250 million. After seeing the magnificent job James Cameron did with waterscapes in his Avatar movies, one might have reasonably expected something high-end. Instead, Moana often looks like it was designed on someone's basement laptop. The scenes featuring water-bending are poorly realized and the underwater shots feel incredibly fake. There are also sequences in which it seems like actors Johnson and Laga'aia have been dumped into an otherwise animated playground where they seem out of place.

It's an interesting choice for the filmmakers to go with Johnson as a visibly aged version of Maui rather than the youthful, vibrant figure from the animated films. The original intention, to use AI to de-age him, was scrapped when Hollywood came out in open defiance of the technology, resulting in more of an "old man Maui." Catherine Laga'aia is fine as Moana. Her voice is largely indistinguishable from Cravalho (who sings a new song over the end credits), and there's no lack of youthful enthusiasm, although she smiles too much (and sometimes at the most inappropriate times). Retaining Heihei, however, feels like a mistake. The moronic rooster (derided by 2016 co-director Ron Clements as the dumbest animal in the history of animation) fails to provide the same degree of comedic relief he did in the animated version. Once again, some things that work in cartoon form feel awkward when translated to live-action, and Moana is chock-full of them.

Rule of thumb: If you're watching a remake (any remake) and you keep thinking about how much better the original did a particular scene, shot, or moment, the remake is not working on its own terms. Regardless of how much money this makes for Disney, it will never feel like a true motion picture. It's nostalgia-fueled kitsch—a bright, gaudy bauble to attract family audiences and people who crave the familiar. Creatively bankrupt and utterly unnecessary, this Moana will succeed for one simple reason: popularity and the financial windfall that inevitably follows.

Moana (2026) (United States, 2026)