REVIEW COLLECTION: DreamWorks Animation, Part 4c

(Source: Variety) 

Orion and the Dark (2024) 

Although DreamWorks has made several TV series for Netflix, they (for now) have only made one feature film for the streaming service. UK author Emma Yarlett’s children’s book, Orion and the Dark, was adapted by screenwriter Charlie Kaufman (his first turn in animation since the stop-motion adult drama Anomalisa), while first-time director Sean Charmatz presents a colorful, bright, and surprisingly deep, surreal fantasy. 

The main story centers on the titular Orion (voiced by Jacob Tremblay), who seems to be afraid of everything. Talking to girls. Being rejected. Being bullied by classmates. Dying. But mostly, he (like most kids) is afraid of the dark. He tells us so through quirky voiceover narration. One night, Dark personified (voiced by Paul Walter Hauser) actually shows up and decides to show Orion his job for one night, to try to convince the boy that what he’s afraid of isn’t actually so bad. 

Recalling the late-80s fantasy-adventure Little Monsters, Orion and the Dark is filled with creative animation, including significant, supporting roles for other nighttime entities: Sleep, Insomnia, Unexplainable Noises, Silence, and Sweet Dreams. (The collective antithesis to Rise of the Guardians, maybe? They certainly remind viewers how influential emotions can be.) Not to mention witty and intellectual dialogue (partly expressed through 2D notebook sketches and some macabre imagery) and an engaging soundtrack. The result is a very cerebral and unconventional story, even if is, at times, uneven, unsure of itself, and mildly dark. 

On the other hand, the film does have a few mild language issues, with Orion’s existentially believing that life is meaningless and depressing. Scenes feature characters having panic attacks and/or identity crises. While Orion does have supporting and encouraging parents, it takes fantasy characters—multidimensional ones, at that—to convince him otherwise. To be fair, the boy does come to see wonder in the world (a delight to see), as well as the difference between fake and reality, and the significance of building on stories from yesteryear. As Orion is told, “So much of how you see yourself [being afraid of everything] is how others see you.” 

An unexpected subplot, 20 minutes in, involves a father telling his daughter an imaginative story. (Or is it real?) It recalls the parent-child dynamics and generational cycles in Boss Baby 2, implying that characters are still struggling with certain things, such as loneliness, and being afraid but doing it anyway. That and a third act twist (time travel?!) had me convinced this is something that Charlie Kaufman would most certainly have written. (He previously made the dark dramedy I’m Thinking of Ending Things for Netflix.) I’m not sure how Orion and the Dark would’ve done in theaters. Either way, this may be the studio’s most daring and challenging feature film to date. 

Kung Fu Panda 4 (2024) 

Po the panda has officially joined the company of Shrek and friends, with at least four theatrical installments in the Kung Fu Panda series. Jack Black reprises his most famous vocal role, still kicking it as the titular Dragon Warrior. On the other hand, his most recent outing brings up the thought of sequels that audiences asked for versus what they needed.  

Directed by Mike Mitchell (Shrek Forever After, Trolls) and Stephanie MaStine, this fourth installment follows Po as he is called to transition to being the spiritual leader of the Valley of Peace, considered the highest level in all of kung fu. But Po is conflicted. Or maybe he’s just not ready? Either way (as one character puts it), “I guess it’s just easier to hold onto the life you know.” His latest adversary is a shape-shifting reptile, a sorceress known as the Chameleon (voiced by Viola Davis), who takes on the form of Po’s previous foes. To hang onto his current mantle a little longer, Po journeys (along with a sly, thieving fox, voiced by Awkwafina) to stop this new baddie, even becoming an unexpected mentor in the process. 

Besides, I guess, Po’s inner monologues, other voices in this sequel include Ke Huy Quan (as a Sunda pangolin) and Dustin Hoffman (returning as kung fu master Shifu). But one of this flick’s main subplots involves Po’s adoptive and biological fathers (James Hong and Bryan Cranston, respectively), both putting their differences aside to do what’s best for their son. It also becomes apparent that there are places where the “Dragon Warrior” isn’t even known. 

Kung Fu Panda 4 benefits from stylized action and slapstick comedy sans the Furious Five. It feels like a smaller story, but on a bigger scale. The filmmakers get creative with different camera angles, shots, and editing techniques never used in this series before. The results are both awesome and hilarious. Yet, the film gets intense and dramatic when it needs to be—with skill and resonance, might I add. The score by Hans Zimmer and Steve Mazzaro balances all these effectively (including an Asian cover of Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train”). 

That being said, this is easily the least in the Kung Fu Panda series. It retreads some familiar elements from its predecessors (i.e., Po’s fandom). As such, you’ll need to see the other movies before this one. Like the last movie (from 2016), this installment taps into some dark spirituality, although the Chameleon’s shape-shifting effects are visually incredible. Even so, there are still some worthwhile morals in this story, including orphaned characters, those who were raised wrong or right, how betrayal hurts those closest to us, earning and working for something instead of cheating, and the fact that how we were brought up doesn’t have to determine what we will become. In other words, we can change for the better and choose to do what’s right, simply because it’s right. With Kung Fu Panda 4, the ingredients it has (while not high quality) give us a well-made dish. 

The Wild Robot (2024) 

When I first saw the teaser trailer for an animated adaptation of Peter Brown's celebrated children's book, The Wild Robot, I could already tell it was going to be something special. Not to mention astounding and emotional. And that rarely happens. Written for the screen and directed by Disney and DreamWorks veteran Chris Sanders, the story follows a task-focused robot that crash lands on an island, resulting in a merger between technology and nature. 

Many critics have considered this 2024 theatrical release to be the best animated film that DreamWorks has ever made. Following their work on The Bad Guys and Puss in Boots: The Last Wish, the studio presents a very painterly animation style with The Wild Robot. Details in the central forest and the animals that inhabit it look like they’ve been made with brushstrokes, while the more three-dimensional design of the titular Roz (voiced by Lupita Nyong’O) is amazing. Not to mention very expressive with so little. 

The local animals, on the other hand, are very cautious and dismissive of strangers, both despising and fearing the visiting android. With that in mind, the film is commendable for being a rare feature that showcases a more realistic presentation of nature (a la Bambi), with journeys and arcs that are perilous, dangerous, sometimes macabre, and full of life, death, creation, and passages of time (i.e., Roz growing moss). And it does help that that presentation is filled with compelling characters and a terrific voice cast, including Pedro Pascal, Catherine O'Hara, Mark Hamill, Ving Rhames, and Bill Nighy. The film’s glimpses of the human world and a few other robots aren't as strong. Ditto brief glimpses of global warming (an element this film shares with the international feature Flow, released the same year). 

Primarily, Roz’s journey—which has several theological implications and parallels—is more than communicating and eventually adapting beyond her programming. Her arc represents what it means to be a parent, for better or worse, when she ends up adopting a baby gosling she names Brightbill (voiced by Kit Connor) and teaches him to eat, swim, and fly. As such, other animals who have underestimated her and her adoptive son (some of them enemies) start seeing her differently this way, as well as by all she does for others, and how her lodge becomes something of a safe haven. Certain characters not only come to learn where they come and exceed being “defective” or not belonging (as perceived), nor just survive. They show what it means to live and to endure.  

The Wild Robot is an astounding and emotional journey, filled with adventure, humor, drama, action, and visual and aural storytelling (the latter partly from composer Kris Bowers). The montage of Brightbill learning to fly (set to an original track, sung by Maren Morris) has me welling up every time. The film may be different from the book, but it’s still wonderful nonetheless, with themes of what family and community should look like, as well as examples of stories and memories that live/carry on. As far as how The Wild Robot ranks amongst DreamWorks' best films: if not their greatest, it's definitely in their top five, and one you have to see if you haven’t already. Trust me, this one is special. 

Dogman (2025) 

Following Captain Underpants’ 2017 cinematic debut, Dav Pilkey’s bestselling children’s picture books about the escapades of a half-man/half-dog police officer get the big screen CGI treatment. Directed by Peter Hastings (who also co-produces and provides the vocal effects for the titular “Supa Cop”), Dog Man has stylized animation that captures the look of Pilkey’s original and simple illustrations. 

The premise is rather silly and bizarre, in which a dedicated police officer (Knight) and his dog (Greg) get in an accident that leads to them becoming a hybrid. Basically and literally, the dog’s head gets sewn onto the man’s body. The movie’s slogan reads, “Half man. Part dog. All hero.” And in doing so, Dog Man’s main assignment/case is stopping the dastardly Petey the Cat (voiced by SNL alum Pete Davidson) from taking over the city. The latter even decides to make a clone of himself, but instead creates a kid version that further complicates his plotted schemes. 

The movie jumps right into action as Dog Man teams up with the jealous Chief of Police (voiced by Lil Rel Howery) and a dedicated news reporter (voiced by Isla Fisher). The writers and animators give us one visual and/or verbal gag after another, complete with Pilkey’s juvenile sense of humor and fourth wall breaking. (I wonder if the author and filmmakers were influenced by the comedy styles of the Zucker Brothers & Jim Abrahams—i.e., Airplane and The Naked Gun.) And believe me, a LOT of crazy and hysterical stuff/turns happen in this movie, including a subplot involving a revived pet fish (voiced by Ricky Gervais) who gets mechanized and becomes diabolical. 

Several moments will easily fly over the heads of the targeted kid audience; one of Petey's machines is named “80 HD” (get it?). Parents and adults will likely recognize homages to infamous lines from action pics like Aliens and Die Hard. And while the humor isn’t naughty or as toilet-focused as Captain Underpants, there still are a few crude moments, with a particular one involving a giant robot. The movie does, on the on the other hand, have an entertaining score by composer Tom Howe. (Stay through the credits for more excerpts, as well as a catchy cover of James Brown’s “I Feel Good.”) 

The movie is also surprisingly sweet and cute, with unexpected themes of adults who become parental figures (with both good and bad examples presented), and enemies who become friends. The introduction of Lil’ Petey (voiced by Lucas Hopkins Calderon) changes things instantly. The latter's infectious charm allows him to see the good in everybody, including characters with feelings of abandonment, unresolved matters, difficulty forgiving others (including one's self), and the question of whether such people can really change or stay the same. “Love isn’t just something you feel,” Lil’ Petey tells us, “It’s something you do.” We could all use somebody like the cool and sweet Lil’ Petey, who’s arguably the real hero here. As for the titular canine-human hybrid, it's rare these days to have the lead of a mainstream studio movie be an effective pantomime character. 

The Bad Guys 2 (2025) 

Aaron Blabey’s bestselling books about storybook villains-turned-(attempted)-do-gooders get a feature-length continuation with this follow-up to DreamWorks’ 2022 caper romp. The Bad Guys 2 opens with a big caper (in Cairo, Egypt, of all places) from when the titular gang was feared by the public and made heists for the thrill of them. Like its lead Mr. Wolf, it knows how to make an entrance. 

Returning director Pierre Perifel gets help from co-director JP Sans. Meanwhile, the returning voice cast includes Sam Rockwell (Wolf), Marc Moran (Snake), Awkwafina (Tarantula), Craig Robinson (Shark, who, at one point, hilariously officiates a wedding), Anthony Ramos (Piranha), Alex Borstein (Chief of Police-turned-Commissioner), Zazie Beetz (Governor Foxington), and Richard Adoyte (Professor Marmalade). New voices include Danielle Brooks, Natasha Lyonne, and Maria Bakalova as an all-female heist gang (Kitty Kat, Doom, and Pigtail, respectively). 

The titular quintet struggle to live new lives and even doubt whether or not they're being serious about turning good. Then, they are called back into their heist days, in a subplot involving a literal MacGuffin (or, a “MacGuffinite”), and even being framed for it. A few other differences in this sequel include Snake’s diet and regiment, a beefed-up Marmalade, and Wolf’s secret potential romance with Foxington, whose past/secret life as a fellow thief is at risk of getting blackmailed and out into the public. 

Like its predecessor, the stylized animation here is consistently fun to watch, and the movie is thoroughly entertaining. With help from Daniel Pembeton's score, the action is crazier and more chaotic, with standout scenes involving a tidal wave of angry mob members, and even a rocket ship. There's even some select 2D animation for added effect. Ditto Wolf’s fourth wall narration. However, parents of younger children should be aware that this sequel has some suggestive banter, mild/rude language issues, and a couple of questionable song choices on the soundtrack. It otherwise skillfully balances laughs and drama, ranking alongside its predecessor and yet improves with more originality, creativity, unpredictability, and substance. 

The narrative highlights characters with a misguided sense of respect, temptations that their old lives (as criminals) were better, the consequences of trust being broken, and giving people a reason to trust you. Not forcing it but earning it. “Why would you risk your life to save people who wouldn’t give you a chance,” one character asks. It's a good question that extends to the theme that, even when things come crashing down, hoping for a better life is a good thing. In other words, Shawshank was the only other film that didn't do that.