Hoppers (2026)

Score: 2 / 5

Too little too late, the latest Pixar film reminds me of its sad decline in novelty and style. Hoppers takes as its story that of a young activist. Mabel Tanaka (Piper Curda), a Japanese-American college student, loves a glade filled with animals near her late grandmother's house. The two had bonded there, with Mabel learning to appreciate the quiet stillness of nature, and now the location holds great sentimental value. So when Mayor Jerry Generazzo (Jon Hamm) announces his plan to build a beltway right through the glade, Mabel takes it upon herself to protest.

Anger defines Mabel. In the opening scene, she's trying to "rescue" classroom pets from her elementary school, angry that they're captive; when she's stopped, she gets even more angry. It's not until her grandmother invites her to the edge of her secret pond and to sit in silence that Mabel begins to calm down. "I used to get angry," the grandmother muses, saying that it's hard to stay angry when you become aware of the web of life around you. It feels quite zen, like Yoda telling Luke to reach out with his feelings in a hostile swamp. So, years later, when we see Mabel angry at Jerry, it feels more personal than straightforward environmental activism. Her anger stems from fear, but she hasn't clearly worked out what that means or how to deal with it. Instead, she lashes out (as also indicated by the cast on her arm, no doubt from reckless skateboarding), only making herself seem crazed, undermining her own goals.

Mabel connects with her biology professor, Dr. Sam (Kathy Najimy), whose research is far more practical than we might at first expect. She's developed a technology she calls "hopping," which is basically transferring one's consciousness into a 3D-printed robot animal in order to better study animal behavior. Mabel recognizes this for what it is -- "Like Avatar!" -- despite Dr. Sam's chagrin, and impulsively uses it on herself. She becomes a beaver, for all intents and purposes, and goes out to the glade to investigate the disappearance of its resident beaver. The "keystone species" is what dammed the creek, making the pond a haven for all kinds of wildlife; without the beaver, Jerry is justified in saying they can bulldoze the glade because there aren't animals there to displace.

The problem is that there's nothing original about this film. Indeed a ripoff of Avatar, it also pulls heavily from other recent films, notably The Wild Robot in its interest in the interconnectedness of nature in the face of increased urbanization. More damagingly, the film features too many plot holes that seem designed to upset whatever pro-environmentalism it offers: Mabel can inexplicably immediately understand verbal communication between all the animals, regardless of species. She's befriended and welcomed by these creatures (like in Elio) and given immediate audience with an array of animal royalty (which, though mostly unrecognizable in the film, include A-listers like you wouldn't believe in the film's credits, from Meryl Streep to Isiah Whitlock Jr.). So why doesn't Dr. Sam know more about the animals and their plight, if she's been moonlighting as a beaver herself?

Thick sci-fi/fantasy jargon ensues, with much hubbub about "Pond Rules," wherein predators will eat prey in the great circle of life and so forth. Species usually at odds must confabulate to fight back, though still oddly territorial a la Zootopia, with similar attention to animal-based humor. And it all distracts from what could have been an insightful and galvanizing drama about how a young person can and should go about environmental activism in their community. I think, too, of Strange World, one of Disney's most progressive and moving films of this decade, which handled these exact matters and more with stronger rhetoric and a better story, despite its similarly derivative inspiration. Several subplots coalesce into a frenetic climax so uninspired that I found myself wishing for the film to end. 

Admittedly, it's also simply not my preferred artistic style. The animation feels cartoonish and inflated, like something shiny and waxy from DreamWorks rather than Disney. Editing and "performance style" (if we can call character animation that) feel more reminiscent of anime -- much like Pixar's Turning Red, which I also disliked visually -- and shoves what might have been organic character interest into a parade of explosive exaggerations and jerky mannerisms. Thankfully, the film redeems itself slightly in its quieter moments, focusing on Mabel's grief (spoiler alert: she has to deal with the grief, because anger is its manifestation) and even Jerry's internal commitment to genuine community-building. So, in the bizarre and overwrought climax, a new villain materializes (Dave Franco, and that's all I'll say about that delightful addition) and the whole thing goes up in flame and smoke. Much like my hopes that this film would steal my heart like most Disney fare.