Elio (2025)

Score: 4.5 / 5

Knowing nothing about a Disney film is my preferred way to experience them. Earlier this summer, I had the unmitigated pleasure of experiencing Elio, the latest feature from Pixar. It doesn't necessarily rewrite the studio's tried-and-true formulas, and its signature schmaltzy sentimentality feels about as familiar as anything else from the studio, well, ever. From its heartbreaking premise of an orphaned child and put-upon guardian to its yearning themes of loneliness and desperation to belong despite overwhelming loss, the film is thoroughly calculated to effectively pluck at any viewer's heartstrings. Even its visuals aren't all original; more than once I caught myself annoyingly comparing sights to Lilo & Stitch, for the most recent example. But a film that knows exactly its essence, its target audience, its purpose, and its style and capitalizes on those things is rarely less than satisfying.

Elio Solis (Yonas Kibreab) lives with his Aunt Olga (Zoe Saldana), an Air Force major who gave up her dreams of becoming an astronaut to care for her young nephew. Elio's at the age of acting out in largely unpredictable and often destructive ways in his quest for belonging, and Olga's generosity and guardianship is embittering, starting to grind her gears as she wishes he'd appreciate her efforts and work with her rather than against her. Bringing Elio to work with her one day is disastrous for Olga: he is so inspired by the possibility of contacting extraterrestrial life that he uses a conspiracy theorist's device to send a message to space, causing a power outage at the military base and nearly causing Olga's firing. At the end of her patience, Olga sends Elio to camp, where his school bullies will unfortunately also be in attendance.

I mentioned a certain other story earlier about an unconventional guardianship, a troublesome orphaned child, and a desire for companionship and belonging. And it's this aspect of the film that feels the most grounded. Elio is somewhat infuriating to watch; in our screening, several kids were telling him not to do certain things that, of course, he'd do with disastrous results. This isn't the wide-eyed Belle or Rapunzel, reading books and fantasizing about life's possibilities while living an otherwise responsible, humble life; this is a modern kid, likely with neurodivergence and hyperactivity, causing ruckus because he's troubled while being materially cared for. So when he is nearly assaulted by his bullies at camp and escapes via suddenly-appearing UFO, we breathe a sigh of relief along with him rather than feel fear or trepidation. He's saved by people who are surely -- finally -- looking for him.

Like characters in Galaxy Quest, Elio is so thrilled to have discovered something magical (read: been discovered by someone who actually wants him) that he's even more desperate to fit in. The aliens welcome him to their Communiverse, a crossroads in space where aliens from different planets share their knowledge and technology. They mistake Elio for the creator of the Voyager spacecrafts, through which he broadcast his message to them (remember that these were probes launched in 1977 carrying messages), and deem him to be Earth's ambassador and planetary leader. Wanting to prove to himself that he belongs, and avoiding disappointing these strange new friends, Elio quickly spurts out lie after lie, confirming their opinions of him and agreeing to negotiate with an angry warlord, Grigon (Brad Garrett), to avoid him attacking the Communiverse.

It's interesting that both Grigon and Elio share a desperation to belong, and the potential for destruction when they don't belong. Though Elio's negotiations fail, he meets Grigon's sweet and innocent son, Glordon (Remy Edgerly), who naively agrees to being Elio's hostage in order to avoid becoming like his father: there's a somewhat disturbing tradition in their species of coming-of-age via fusion with an Iron Maiden-esque body suit, and Glordon does not want that future. And, though it doesn't even start until after the halfway point (in a brisk 90-something-minute runtime), Elio's friendship with Glordon is perhaps the film's most endearing and memorable dynamic. Most other characters, interesting enough in design if not in drama, are treated by the screenplay as immaterial objects of curiosity, which I think is rather wise in a kid's film like this. Too often secondary characters run amok with our attention, but this story (written and directed by two teams of three, respectively) feels surprisingly, compellingly focused on the important players.

We're swept up with Elio in a wash of joyous, funny, and warm-hearted montages meant to endear us to the fantasy of belonging he's experiencing. And it's all very effective. I was genuinely choked up multiple times, and yes, I wept like a babe by the climax, heavy-handed though it is. Something about beautiful, imaginative imagery and simple but challenging emotions can really impact even the most hard-boiled of viewers if you give yourself over to raw storytelling. With an evocative score, lots of genre references to sci-fi and Spielberg, and a joie de vivre missing from much animated films these days, Elio reads like a love letter to the kid in all of us, wondering if there's life out among the stars and if it could be better than this one, and ends with a poignant reminder to care for the people and places we call home in the here and now.