Ohana means nobody gets left behind...except for crummy remakes like Lilo & Stitch

(L-R) Maia Kealoha as Lilo, Stitch and Sydney Agudong as Nani in Disney’s live-action LILO & STITCH. Photo courtesy of Disney. © 2025 Disney Enterprises Inc. All Rights Reserved.
(L-R) Maia Kealoha as Lilo, Stitch and Sydney Agudong as Nani in Disney’s live-action LILO & STITCH. Photo courtesy of Disney. © 2025 Disney Enterprises Inc. All Rights Reserved.

A great cover song is a tremendous accomplishment. Johnny Cash's take on the Nine Inch Nails tune "Hurt" is one of the gold standards of this sonic domain and encapsulates how a creative, personal approach breathes new life into familiar lyrics. The Dead Kennedys’ overhauling of “I Fought the Law,” meanwhile, ingeniously contorted a recognizable melody to craft a fury-drenched condemnation of Harvey Milk assassin Dan White. Brooks & Dunn and Luke Combs, meanwhile, delivered in 2019 a stirring update of the former duo's debut single, "Brand New Man.” For this cover, the trio infused this country radio staple with a more epic sounding instrumental accompaniment and the engagingly lived-in vocals of Combs.

The commonality across these and other great covers is that they don’t rest on their artistic laurels. They instead embrace the unexpected and ambiances only new artistic perspectives could unleash. Like most live-action (or realistically animated) remakes of Walt Disney Animation Studios movies, Lilo & Stitch is a tepid cinematic equivalent to a cover song. At least director Dean Fleischer Camp’s new vision of this family film isn’t quite as bad as Pentatonix’s “Halleluiah” regurgitation or Smash Mouth’s take on “Under Pressure”. Thank Heaven for the smallest favors.

Mike Van Waes and Chris Kekaniokalani Bright’s Lilo & Stitch screenplay begins with a rigid, hurried recreation of the original 2002 film’s prologue. Said segment concerns The Grand Councilwoman (Hannah Waddingham) and other powerful aliens condemning Dr. Jumba Jookiba (Zach Galifianakis) for creating Experiment 626. Hewing so closely to the original feature from the word go instantly makes this remake’s visual shortcomings apparent. Any bombastic framing or lighting is gone and replaced with unimaginative close-ups.

Jumba, meanwhile, is now a freaky, realistically designed monstrosity. He fits right in with the nightmare fuel of other Disney remakes like Beauty and the Beast’s household objects or Snow White’s Seven Dwarves. It’s also immediately strange how restricted Jumba is in motion. Even when he’s talking, Jumba’s lips are stiff and lack varied movement. He often looks more like an action figure or statue rather than a living, breathing organism. Needless to say, these faults aren’t an ideal way to kick off a family movie. Heck, we haven’t even met Lilo (Maia Kealoha) or her older sister/adopted parent Nani (Sydney Elizebeth Agudong) yet.

Residing on an island in Hawaii, these two strained siblings (much like in the original film) are struggling creating a functional home life. A social worker, here manifesting as Mrs. Kekoa (Tia Carrere), is threatening to take Lilo into the foster care system unless things improve. Meanwhile, the lonely and unabashedly oddball Lilo yearns for a friend. She gets one once Experiment 626 escapes cosmic confinement and winds up basically in her backyard. Posing as a canine (albeit a blue-skinned one), Lilo adopts this ferocious alien designed for slaughtering and names him Stitch. Yes, there is now a brief origin story for Stitch’s name, and it’s almost as dumb as how Han Solo got his moniker.

If anyone escapes Lilo & Stitch’s terrible gravitational pull, it’s Maia Kealoha. Not only is she adorable, but she lends tangible adolescent reality to a feature too often settling for sanded-off edges and sanitized melodrama. Additionally, it’s thoroughly impressive how well she interacts with a CG co-star (Stitch) that was just a tennis ball on-set. Bouncing off animated performers isn’t for the faint of heart. Just ask Bob Hoskins, who “went a bit mad” delivering his extraordinary lead turn opposite various entertaining “toons” in Who Framed Roger Rabbit? Despite her young age and this being her first major film role, Kealoha is a natural opposite Stitch. Her conviction in this department makes Lilo’s connection to Stitch believable.

Unfortunately, Kealoha and the rest of the cast struggle with a script suffering from a problem that plagued Snow White just two months ago: indecision over being a shot-for-shot remake or embracing the wholly new. Occasionally, Camp, Waes, and Bright will conjure up new ideas that, on paper, sound like great ways to give this new Lilo & Stitch its own identity. Nani, for instance, now harbors ambitions of attending a Marine Biology college. Meanwhile, the inaccessibility of health insurance is a key stumbling block for her in maintaining custody of Lilo. These discernibly 2025 struggles (particularly the latter issue) tragically never get the room they need to breathe.

Instead, Lilo & Stitch is dead set on realizing countless half-hearted retreads of scenes from the original animated classic. So rigidly emulating the past only heightens the specific egregious visual shortcomings of this production. For instance, rehashed gags from the original, like Nani “coaching” Lilo what to say to a social worker or Stitch’s record player trick, lose all their impact here because they’re now filtered through excessive close-ups and jagged editing. The crisp, wider framing and precisely timed cuts informing these jokes is MIA. Familiar emotionally tender sequences like Lilo and Nani’s hammock-set rendition of “Aloha Oe”, meanwhile, are undercut thanks to Lilo & Stitch’s refusal to tap into any real danger or tension.

This beautifully bittersweet scene worked so well in the original Lilo & Stitch because it truly felt like these siblings were about to say farewell. Recreating it beat-for-beat doesn’t work in the 2025 context of Lilo and Nani’s constantly, nonchalantly discussing getting “split up” throughout. A better movie would’ve come up with new emotional sequences to fit a more relaxed vibe. However, Camp is dead set on giving moviegoers what they already know. Thus, Lilo & Stitch lumbers from one disjointed section to the next. Awkward recreations of familiar scenes unharmoniously exist alongside half-baked new concepts undercutting those recognizable elements. The siren song of fan-service (not to mention cringe-inducingly obvious dialogue) constantly beckons Lilo & Stitch towards unsatisfying terrain.

One quality that Camp didn’t bring back from the old film was a remotely compelling visual style. If there’s any Lilo & Stitch 2025 element that’s a downright infuriating downgrade compared to the original, it’s the feature’s uninvolving imagery. The original Lilo & Stitch was a beautiful motion picture that ingeniously realized Hawaii’s beauty through sumptuous watercolor backgrounds. Those qualities have vanished. In their place is a stagnantly shot motion picture lacking personality or vibrancy. Not since the Inhumans TV show has Hawaii lacked so much humanity on-camera. Transfixing exterior backdrops from the original, like beaches or lived-in businesses, are replaced with “dazzling” domiciles like sterile hospital waiting rooms.

Egregiously poor CG also abounds, particularly in making digital characters like Stitch look like they belong in live-action settings. Non-furry aliens like Pleakley (Billy Magnussen) and The Grand Councilwoman, meanwhile, are subpar creations rife with too much squishy detail (I did not need to know how moist Pleakley’s eye was, thanks) that especially look poor whenever exposed to bright lighting. In these shots, their off-putting skin looks like it’d be right at home in a season two episode of The Clone Wars.

The original Lilo & Stitch was a triumphant visual feast and (in historical hindsight) an encapsulation of all the talent Walt Disney Feature Animation Florida housed in its brief lifespan. This remake could’ve pursued exciting new visual possibilities that could only exist in live action. Instead, this new Lilo & Stitch distills so many visual problems plaguing modern big-budget productions. Amateurish blocking and editing. An irritating obsession with reality. And, of course, a fixation on the past. If this script weren’t so determined to recreate so many beats of its source material, maybe the project would’ve displayed greater visual imagination.  

Perhaps no element in 2025’s Lilo & Stitch encapsulates that refusal to let go of yesteryear than Billy Magnussen’s bizarre vocal choices for Pleakley. This one-eyed critter’s previous voice was rooted entirely in Kevin McDonald’s legacy as a Kids in the Hall performer. A rational reimagination of Pleakley would’ve secured a new modern comedic actor (Jenny Slate, Tim Robinson, Patti Harrison, etc.) to make the character their own.  Instead, Magnussen does an incredibly irritating high-pitched mimic of McDonald’s voice that sounds like Neville Longbottom from Harry Potter Puppet Pals. Magnussen’s vocals and yawn-worthy stabs at oversized slapstick are like nails on a chalkboard. Playing opposite him is Galifianakis, who constantly sounds half-asleep portraying Jumba.

At least this Hangover veteran effectively encapsulates how Lilo & Stitch is such a drowsy rejiggering of familiar cinematic terrain. Those languid sensibilities extend to this title’s musical impulses, like Dan Romer’s forgettable score or the refusal to incorporate Elvis Presley needle drops not featured in the original 2002 film. Whether sonically or visually, Lilo & Stitch opts for the laziest route. A story previously thriving on messy raw declarations of adolescent pain (“I remember everyone who leaves”) and glorious hand-crafted animation now houses desperate attempts to make 23-32-year-olds mimic Leonardo DiCaprio pointing at the TV screen.  

Last year, original Lilo & Stitch director Chris Sanders helmed the terrific The Wild Robot. That adaptation of a modern kids’ book delivered stirring characters, gorgeous animation, and rich emotions that had never previously unfolded on the silver screen. While the original Lilo & Stitch architect has moved on, the Mouse House remains stuck in the past. This studio has served up yet another hollow rendition of its animated past devoid of humanity or visual innovation. Maybe watching Stitch cause mayhem will placate young audiences. However, aren’t there enough pre-existing Lilo & Stitch properties they could watch instead? After all, when you can listen to the Billy Joel original, why desecrate your ears with the Fall Out Boy cover of "We Didn't Start The Fire"?