‘How to Train Your Dragon’ breaks the remake curse
Redo of 2010 classic shouldn’t exist, but it also shouldn’t be this good.
I’m about to make a hypocrite of myself.
Just a few weeks ago, I dinged Disney’s Lilo & Stitch remake for being a lazy cash grab, a redo of an animated classic that traded narrative imagination for karaoke filmmaking and replaced the fluidity and beauty of animation for the drabness of live action. While not the worst of the Disney remakes, it’s just as cynical. I don’t begrudge its success, but I can guarantee that given a choice between it and its 2002 inspiration, I would never find a reason to watch the new version.
How to Train Your Dragon has many of the same issues. If Lilo & Stitch hewed too closely to the original, Dragon is practically a shot-for-shot remake, to the point where my 9-year-old daughter said the characters looked like someone asked ChatGPT to remake the first movie. It takes no narrative risks, following the beats of its source material closely and including not just full lines of dialogue but the same dramatic beats and visual punchlines. And in terms of cynical motives, I’m 99% certain this movie only exists because Universal opened a new theme park with a How to Train Your Dragon land and needs to keep this IP fresh in the minds of traveling families.
All that is true. And yet, what a difference effort makes.
If you’re overly familiar with the original, you can probably jump to the next paragraph. It takes place on Berk, a remote Viking island where dragons regularly wreak havoc. The clansmen, led by chief Stoic (Gerard Butler), center their lives on preparing to kill dragons. All except for Stoic’s son, Hiccup (Mason Thames), who is more intellectual and timid. Hiccup wants to prove himself, but when he shoots down a mysterious Night Fury, he makes a friend instead of a trophy. He nicknames the dragon Toothless and begins to wonder whether there is more to dragons than tradition suggests.
I haven’t seen How to Train Your Dragon since its 2010 theatrical run. I liked it quite a bit, but I just never revisited it. I know my kids have seen it and enjoyed it, but it’s never become part of their constant rotation. It’s possible my distance from the original makes this film’s hyper fidelity less of an issue, but the animated film was so iconic that even I could pick out full sequences that were basically duplicated. And yet, I can’t deny that I was just as caught up – while it lacks the freedom of animation, the remake is nearly as funny, thrilling and emotional. Maybe those with more history with the 2010 film will feel differently; all I can say is this one worked for me.
A big part of that has to do with bringing back the co-director of the original, Dean DeBlois1. After years at Disney, DeBlois moved over to DreamWorks, and has spent the years since embedded in Hiccup’s world, co-directing not only the original film but going on to helm its two sequels; he also has a producing credit on last year’s The Wild Robot, a movie I adore. And while I’m sure there’s a different approach that could be taken in adapting Cressida Cowell’s novel, DeBlois understands what initially drew him to the story and why he made the choices he did. Apparently, he felt that was the same approach to take in moving the film to live action. The result is less karaoke filmmaking, but that of a storyteller telling the same tale with new tools.
So while the story might be lifted from one medium to another without many changes, DeBlois ensures that its emotions follow. There’s a love for this world and these characters that the Disney remakes lack; those movies feel like the job is done as long as they hit the “hey, remember that” beats. But How to Train Your Dragon feels like DeBlois and his crew understand that if they’re repeating themselves, they need to make sure they deliver. The film’s settings – which benefit from being filmed outdoors, not on a soundstage – are tangible and detailed. John Powell’s epic score hits at all the right moments. And while live action can’t recapture the grace of Hiccup and Toothless’ first flight, the film still makes the moment exhilarating as the camera tumbles around, water sprays when they skim the ocean and the wind ruffles Hiccups’ hair. I can’t give the movie any points for narrative innovation, but it’s a tremendous and effective work of craft.
The cast also seems to know they’re expected to do more than show up and repeat themselves (although they do repeat themselves). I really enjoyed Thames as Hiccup, who captures the awkwardness and wry humor Jay Baruchel brough to the original, but brings a welcome earnestness. Thames embodies Hiccup’s lack of confidence and desire to be seen and accepted by his father, and he also makes the friendship with Hiccup feel like more than just a kid talking to a computer-generated blob. Gerard Butler reprises his role from the original and goes all in; I love the energy and humor he brings as the over-masculine Stoic, and there’s genuine tenderness and emotion between Butler and Thames in their more dramatic moments. Nick Frost is a welcome substitution for Craig Ferguson as Gobber, the blacksmith and trainer of the young would-be dragon slayers. Frost is funny and a great mentor character for the kids, and it’s hard not to see this as training for his upcoming work as Hagrid in the Harry Potter streaming series. I also liked the work of all the young actors who play Hiccup’s cohorts, who capture the humor and strangeness of their original inspirations but bring an energy that helps paper over the feelings of sameness. The one exception might be Nico Parker as Astrid, Hiccup’s love interest. Parker does what she can, but the role is fairly one-note and lacks the humor and texture of the other young characters; too often, Parker feels pulled from a Disney Channel series, and I wish Astrid had a bit more to do than cheer on Hiccup in the film’s back half (if I recall correctly, this was also a flaw in the original).
DeBlois’ animation background also might be why he threads the transition to live-action so well. One of the fatal flaws of Disney remakes is not the decision to retell the stories in a new medium but their strange insistence on photo-realism. Lions and meerkats that don’t emote are going to lack the energy for musical numbers. It’s hard to care about a CGI elephant when it lacks the elasticity and personality of animation. DeBlois might be telling this story in live action, but he sticks closely to the animated designs. Toothless might have a little more tactility than the original, but the expressive eyes and smile are still there. The various dragons retain their bright colors and variety of shapes, even if they never once look “real.” The action sequences move with energy and humor, culminating in a climax that is just as fun and thrilling as any recent fantasy adventure2. The movie simply plays really well – it’s a powerful story with beloved characters and thrilling beats, and DeBlois understands this world and what makes it work better than anyone else. So, the translation is surprisingly smooth and effective.
How to Train Your Dragon doesn’t reinvent the wheel – it might be better described as a celebration of the original wheel. And while I’m still cautious and generally opposed to the idea of live-action remakes of films that don’t need to be remade – and I still prefer the original film to this – it’s proof that, in the right hands and with respect for what made the original stories so memorable, these movies can work.
DeBlois, along with Chris Sanders, was not only responsible for the original film, but the duo also co-directed the original Lilo & Stitch.
With the kids riding dragons over the sea, the film often calls to mind James Cameron’s Avatar films. And while it’s not as awe-inspiring as Cameron’s sci-fi epics, being Avatar Jr. is not the pejorative it might seem to be.