Moana review – Disney’s live-action remake is a waste of everyone’s time and talent
Disney's Live-Action Moana: A Missed Opportunity for Innovation
Moana review - Wouldn't it be disheartening to spend money watching essentially the identical movie twice? Disney's latest live-action adaptation of Moana perfectly captures what the Simpsons once described as "Malibu Stacy with a new hat." It represents the same core product, merely adorned with an inexpensive additional element—a phenomenon some critics call "enshittification," where studios minimize risk by simply duplicating their animated successes.
A Question of Necessity
Families certainly haven't had many original cinematic experiences to choose from lately. Yet the question remains: is the situation truly so desperate that audiences must accept Dwayne Johnson delivering the same vocal performance he provided ten years prior, now rendered in live-action format? His portrayal comes complete with an unremarkable, softly spoken wig that evokes an Eighties mall photography session rather than the vibrant demigod of legend.
Johnson reprises his role as Maui, the powerful yet cowardly demigod who joins forces with Moana—originally voiced by Auliʻi Cravalho and now portrayed by Catherine Laga'aia—to restore the stolen heart of creation goddess Te Fiti and end the famine devastating their island home, Motunui.
Visual Limitations and Creative Stagnation
This new Moana maintains an unmistakably "animated" aesthetic, achieved through extensive green screen work and digital effects. While reportedly some sequences were filmed on location in Hawaii rather than Atlanta studios, the distinction is difficult to discern. Director Thomas Kail, making his feature film debut following a distinguished Broadway career, should recognize what gets lost when transitioning from stylized animation to live-action reality.
The original film's visual strength came from the contrast between Maui's imposing physical presence and Moana's smaller stature. While Johnson possesses a bodybuilder's physique, he remains mortal. Neither Kail, returning screenwriter Jared Bush, nor Moana 2 co-director Dana Ledoux Miller offers any particularly inventive solution. Without magical elements or clever tricks, they simply dress Johnson in a forty-pound bodysuit to add a modest amount of bulk.
The new film's director, Thomas Kail, making his feature debut after a career on Broadway, must be aware of what's lost in translation between expressive, stylised animation and real life.
Subtle Changes, Major Disappointments
Any variations in script or performance—Jemaine Clement returns as the villainous coconut crab Tamatoa—operate on a molecular level. At most, viewers might catch a few additional jokes. Clement delivers one amusing vocal choice he hadn't attempted in the original.
The sole genuinely "new" aspect involves a series of compromises. Unable to rely on the original's elegant use of printed Polynesian patterns during abstract sequences, Kail transforms Maui's iconic "You're Welcome" number into a floral spectacle that feels inseparable from a typical Febreze commercial.
Perhaps most significantly, the original's emotional centerpiece—Moana's rediscovery of her ancestors' seafaring heritage—loses its power because the filmmakers made no effort to design distinctive visual identities for the ghostly spirits. They resemble Haunted Mansion animatronics rather than ethereal beings.
Performance Comparisons
The new cast members—Rena Owen as Gramma Tala, John Tui as Chief Tui, and Frankie Adams as Sina—struggle to vaguely mirror the distinctive interpretations provided by Rachel House, Temuera Morrison, and Nicole Scherzinger. Laga'aia particularly suffers from these circumstances. Her predecessor, Cravalho, delivered a revelation of warmth and passion that seemed to electrify every aspect of her character. While Laga'aia possesses genuine acting talent and vocal ability, remaining so faithful to the original traps her in an unwinnable situation.
If any merit existed in remaking a film only a decade old—Moana premiered in 2016—the opportunity would surely lie in deepening its celebration of Polynesian culture, music, and mythology. Unfortunately, no new compositions by Polynesian musicians appear, and only a single, quickly forgotten song plays over the closing credits, composed by the original songwriters.