Hoppers

At a time when Pixar's creative identity is being questioned after the commercial failure of Elio and the persistent reliance on endless sequels to their biggest hits, Hoppers does not come across as a cautious correction, but as a bold, almost mischievous statement of intent. Directed by Daniel Chong, produced by Nicole Paradis Grindle, and written by Jesse Andrews, the film embraces absurdity with a confidence that is both rebellious and deeply sincere. It essentially follows Mabel Tanaka, a fiercely idealistic teenager who transfers her consciousness into a robotic beaver in order to infiltrate the animal kingdom and stop a highway project that threatens her beloved clearing. The premise is so brazenly strange that, as Daniel Chong himself admitted, he initially doubted that Pixar would approve it. And yet, it is precisely this strangeness that gives Hoppers its electricity: it feels like a filmmaker challenging a legendary studio to remember how to take risks.

What immediately sets Hoppers apart is its tonal audacity. It's arguably the craziest Pixar film in years, happily oscillating between slapstick, political satire, eco-thriller, and moments of surprising emotional intimacy. The humor is often front and center, thanks in large part to a voice cast comprised of comedy heavyweights. Bobby Moynihan, reuniting with Chong after We Bare Bears, is a revelation as King George, the optimistic and spirited beaver monarch whose philosophy of pond rules (We're all in the same boat) becomes both a recurring gag and a moral compass. Jon Hamm plays a delightful role as Mayor Jerry Generazzo, a vain but strangely likable local politician whose plan to raze the clearing to win votes pits him against his opponents without ever reducing him to a caricature. Early press reactions have highlighted Hamm's performance for its balance of pomposity and pathos, and rightly so; he brings a suave, self-aware charm that elevates every scene. For her part, Meryl Streep, as the imperious queen of insects, exudes a natural authority that gives even her shortest lines a Shakespearean dimension. The late Isiah Whitlock Jr. brings his incomparable gravitas to the king of birds, while Dave Franco, in the role of the volatile Titus, breathes anarchic menace into the insect hierarchy. The cast, which also includes Kathy Najimy, Eduardo Franco, Aparna Nancherla, Sam Richardson, Melissa Villaseñor, Ego Nwodim, Nichole Sakura, Karen Huie, Vanessa Bayer, Tom Law, and Steve Purcell, feels less like an all-star cast and more like a carefully orchestrated comedy orchestra.

Yet beneath the zany comedy lies a surprisingly realistic emotional core. Mabel's activism isn't abstract; it's rooted in personal loss and the quiet memories she shares with Grandma Tanaka, played with tender warmth by Karen Huie. Screenwriter Jesse Andrews reportedly insisted from the outset on linking Mabel's fight for the clearing to her grief, and that choice pays off. The environmental theme, which sparked industry rumors that it was “downplayed” during production, never feels watered down. Instead, it fits naturally into the characters' motivations. At a time when environmental messages in family films can veer toward didacticism, Hoppers opts for empathy over preaching. The real-life role of beavers as keystone species and ecosystem engineers, confirmed through consultation with ecohydrology expert Emily Fairfa, anchors the fantasy in authentic science. There is something quietly radical about the way the film reframes beavers, not as punchlines, but as ecological pillars capable of literally reshaping landscapes.

The production's research trips to Yellowstone and Colorado helped create a visual universe that feels tactile despite its stylization. The animation team developed a custom brushstroke-based pipeline to soften the overwhelming visual noise of nature while preserving texture and depth. The result is a kind of impressionistic realism: groves of aspens glow with interconnected warmth, night sequences shimmer with elongated, exposure-like illumination, and fire sequences explode in saturated reds that signal danger without veering into horror. Cinematographers Jeremy Lasky and Ian Megibben, alongside production designer Bryn Imagire and visual effects supervisor Beth Albright, create an aesthetic that harmonizes absurd comedy with the immersive beauty of nature. The pond seems inhabited, the clearing seems sacred. Even the chaotic Council scenes, featuring fish, reptiles, amphibians, birds, and insects arguing in operatic fashion, are choreographed with clarity.

Musically, the film benefits greatly from the unique sensibility of composer Mark Mothersbaugh, whose score oscillates between synthetic playfulness and surprisingly poignant orchestral motifs. Chong has compared some of the film's underlying themes to Devo's satire of devolution, and echoes of this lineage can be heard in the playful subversion of the soundtrack. Mabel's theme, which returns in increasingly resonant variations, culminates in the third act with an intensity that mitigates the previous chaos. The emotion is further amplified by the end-credits anthem, “Save the Day,” written and performed by SZA, with music composed by SZA, Rob Bisel, and Ben Lovett. The song functions less as a marketing add-on and more as an extension of Mabel's worldview: sincere, urgent, and unafraid of idealism.

Perhaps most impressive about Hoppers is how the film manages to be both distinctly author-driven and unmistakably Pixar. This is Daniel Chong's Pixar film, brimming with the director's penchant for community-driven storytelling and anarchic humor, while remaining grounded in the studio's longstanding commitment to emotional clarity. The Pond's rules, designed to foster collaboration and creative safety, seem to have been transposed directly to the screen. There is a palpable joy in the filmmaking, an energy reminiscent of the ramshackle inventiveness of Pixar's early original films. While the film may not be groundbreaking in terms of visual innovation, its narrative boldness and comedic timing more than make up for it.

In the broader industry context, Hoppers takes on symbolic importance. As debates rage over whether Disney and Pixar are drifting toward a reliance on sequels, this film serves as a case study in the importance of original storytelling. It's not perfect: a few subplots feel compressed into the film's 104 minutes, and the contrast between spy parody and environmental allegory may test younger viewers. But when the film works, it's hilarious and disarmingly sincere.

It makes you care about a round robotic beaver and a clearing threatened by asphalt. It makes you laugh at a lizard obsessed with emojis, then makes you think as you realize that wetlands can literally stop forest fires. Hoppers reminds us that animation can be anarchic, political, scientific, and tender all at once. It's the most playful Pixar film in years, with a climax that elicits strong emotion without betraying its irreverent spirit. In a cinematic landscape cluttered with safe bets, Hoppers feels like a gamble that pays off, not only commercially but also artistically.

Hoppers
Directed by Daniel Chong
Written by Jesse Andrews
Story by Daniel Chong
Produced by Nicole Paradis Grindle
Starring Piper Curda, Bobby Moynihan, Jon Hamm, Kathy Najimy, Dave Franco, Eduardo Franco, Aparna Nancherla, Tom Law, Sam Richardson, Melissa Villaseñor, Isiah Whitlock Jr., Steve Purcell, Ego Nwodim, Nichole Sakura, Meryl Streep, Karen Huie, Vanessa Bayer
Cinematography: Jeremy Laskyn, Ian Megibben
Edited by Axel Geddes
Music by Mark Mothersbaugh
Production company: Pixar Animation Studios
Distributed by Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures
Release dates: February 23, 2026 (El Capitan Theatre), March 4, 2026 (France), March 6, 2026 (United States)
Running time: 104 minutes

Seen on March 1, 2026 at Gaumont Disney Village, Theater 9, seat A20

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