Lilo & Stitch: Maika'i loa!

Lilo & Stitch (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG, for mild dramatic intensity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

I’ve not been a fan of Disney’s live-action remakes of its animated classics, many of which feel like bloated cash grabs — March’s Snow White being Exhibit A — but this one is a happy exception.

 

Bringing her new "pet" to a fancy luau, where her older sister is working, proves to be a
disastrous idea ... which Lilo (Maia Kealoha) is about to discover, to her dismay.

Director Dean Fleischer Camp has retained the buoyant energy that made this new production’s 2002 predecessor so much fun, while writers Chris Kekaniokalani Bright and Mike Van Waes have enhanced the Hawaiian cultural element.

That said, this film’s super power is the sparkling performance by young star Maia Kealoha, graced with impressively natural acting chops. She owns this film ... and that’s no easy feat, given the competition from her manic, blue-furred, deer-eared co-star.

 

This displaced extraterrestrial is brought to amazing life via visual effects supervisor Craig Hammack’s team, and the finely tuned skills of puppeteer Seth Hays (whose work we’ve enjoyed, as one of Grogu’s puppeteers on The Mandalorian).

 

Granted, I miss the lush, hard-painted watercolor animation of the 2002 film, which enhanced the lyrical beauty of the story’s Hawaiian setting. But credit where due: Camp and production designer Todd Cherniawsky have carefully given this (mostly) live-action romp its own island vibe, which gets additional dazzle thanks to cinematographer Nigel Bluck.

 

Even the animal shelter — which plays a key role in this story — was “dressed” in one of the buildings within the lush 700+ acres of Fong’s Garden Planation, in Kaneohe, Oahu.

 

But the story actually begins far, far away, during a United Galactic Federation tribunal on the planet Turo, conducted by the imperious Grand Councilwoman (voiced by Hannah Waddingham). The accused: egotistical, villainous scientist Jumba (Zach Galifianakis), who has violated all manner of laws by creating a dangerous biological creature known only as Experiment 626, intending it to be the ultimate weapon.

 

It's indestructible, lightning-swift, ferociously smart and adaptable, and incredibly strong, despite its diminutive size. Alas, it’s too smart; sensing the nature of these proceedings, 626 escapes its escape-proof cage, hijacks a small spacecraft and — by chance — sets the heading for an insignificant distant planet known as “Eee-rth.”

 

The pragmatic Grand Councilwoman is in favor of vaporizing the planet, once 626 arrives, until she’s reminded that Eee-rth is the sole habitat of a protected galactic species: the mosquito.

 

She therefore orders Jumba to head to Eee-rth, in order to “clean up his mess.” He’ll be supervised by the overly enthusiastic Pleakley (Billy Magnussen), a mid-level Galactic Federation administrator with unrestrained fan-boy interest in otherworldly life and culture.

Into the Woods: Doesn't go far enough

Into the Woods (2014) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated PG, for thematic elements, fantasy peril and some suggestive material
By Derrick Bang

I never cease being delighted by Stephen Sondheim’s wordcraft wizardry.

His music and lyrics are as ferociously clever as anything concocted by Ira Gershwin or Cole Porter, and as sharply sardonic as the best of mathematician-turned-satirical-tunesmith Tom Lehrer.

The witch (Meryl Streep, right) explains that the Baker (James Corden) and his wife (Emily
Blunt) will need to find four items in order to reverse the curse that has left them unable
to start a family. Naturally, we cannot help feeling that the witch isn't being entirely honest
about why she actually wants these items...

Almost three decades have passed since Sondheim and collaborator James Lapine unleashed Into the Woods, a frothy, thoroughly enchanting what-if musical that takes an unexpectedly mature approach to several classic Grimm fairy tales. Mostly, Sondheim and Lapine imagine what happened next, following the obligatory “happily ever after” fade-out that concludes such stories.

Nothing good, as it turns out.

Broadway classics don’t always transition well to the big screen, in great part because we lose the intimacy that comes from being in a theater with the actors who can bring fire and passion even to material this whimsical. No doubt many have contemplated this particular challenge, since Into the Woods debuted in 1987, but Rob Marshall eventually won the battle.

Certainly he seems a worthy choice, having watched his cinematic adaptation of Chicago take six of its 13 Academy Award nominations, including Best Picture.

His handling of Into the Woods is unlikely to garner such stellar praise, but not for lack of quality; this simply isn’t as visually dynamic a production, its delights limited chiefly to the way in which the cast brings fresh brio to Sondheim’s lyrics and patter-songs. Production designer Dennis Gassner spends a lot of time with various forest settings that look rather similar; the scenery magic derives more from sfx supervisor Matt Johnson’s various touches, most notably the giant beanstalk that sprouts next to a certain home.

That said, there’s no denying the spectacular splash with which this film opens, cross-cutting between the various sets of characters within the intermingled saga to follow, their desires explicated in the lengthy “Prologue,” the first of Sondheim’s many ingenious songs. Marshall and editor Wyatt Smith have a field day with this stylish production number, a bravura 10 minutes that sets a most impressive stage.

The story is fueled by seemingly reasonable but ultimately ill-advised wishes. In short order, we meet Cinderella (Anna Kendrick), who wishes to attend the palace festival; Jack (Daniel Huttlestone), a naïve but kind-hearted boy who wishes that his cow, Milky White, didn’t have to be sold; and the Baker (James Corden) and his wife (Emily Blunt), who wish they could become parents.