Review by Calvin Trager

June 24, 2002

Mad scientist Professor Jumba has created the unthinkable: a genetically-engineered creature of enormous resilience and strength, capable of feats of incredible destructive power, and programmed to seek out and destroy large centers of population. Fortunately, he and his creation have been apprehended and sentenced by the Galactic Federation.

Unfortunately, his incredibly-destructive creation has escaped.

Many (many, many) millions of miles away, a quintessentially overimaginative girl named Lilo (Daveigh Chase) is struggling to fit in. Kids her age don't seem to understand her hyperactive viewpoint, nor does she take direction well from her older sister and guardian, Nani (Tia Carrere), who herself is wrestling with the twin problems of holding down a job and providing a safe environment for her younger sibling. When a stern social worker (Ving Rhames) tells her that her stewardship is less than exemplary, she allows Lilo to adopt a pet, in the hopes that a dedicated and selfless playmate might preserve the splintering fragments of their household. But Lilo's selection is characteristically quirky: a rambunctious, strange blue-colored creature that looks less like a dog and more like something from another world.

Following in the vein of Disney's most recent feature-length traditionally-animated features The Emperor's New Groove and Atlantis: The Lost Empire, Lilo & Stitch hearkens not from fairy tales or fables but from original source material, and this freedom has allowed the filmmakers to create some of the most compelling characters the studio has put forth to date. While the humor in the film is largely situational, the characters are not; they exist with motivations and emotions of their own and act in accordance with them, rather than doing simply what is required to move the plot from act to act.

It would be incredibly simple to take a character as kinetic as the alien Stitch and let it run the film with the other characters as window dressing. It's therefore both gutsy and successful that the creative team took the entirely opposite approach and focused heavily on the relationship between Lilo and her sister for a substantial portion of the screenplay before Stitch (re-)enters the picture. Lilo is not just a cute kid who wants a cute pet (whereupon mischief and wackiness ensue); she's a dreamer, a unique personality who desperately needs a companion because she's set herself apart from everyone else, even her own sister. Similarly, Nani could have been nothing more than a guardian figure who (exasperatedly) loves her sister and is failing, through no fault of her own, to make ends meet, yet it is explained that her need to succeed at providing a life for herself and her sister is rooted in her desire to fulfill the family's ohana, a commitment to family and the bonds that come with it (it is also suggested that some of her shortcomings in that regard may be due to having just a little more in common with her overactive sibling than she's willing to admit).

Even Stitch, the harbinger of much hilarity and chaos in the film, has a motivation; he was built to do it. Granted, that's a bit more thin of an explanation, but it's not all just random, wanton destruction. Watching his adaptive cunning for survival is a little like watching a blue, four-armed version of Matt Damon's character from The Bourne Identity (right down to the calamity and wake of destruction that follows wherever he goes). Survival and following the destructive predispositions of his genetic programming are all he knows how to do, yet when he is thrust into an environment where neither of these are possible, he is forced to adapt further. The parallels drawn between this fantastic extraterrestrial and his not-quite-down-to-earth counterpart make it effortlessly believable that a creature that was designed to be utterly alone and a little girl who is alone not by design are able to find each other and form a deep and lasting friendship (avid moviegoers will be able to draw many parallels between the thematic content of this film and the critically-acclaimed but economically-disappointing The Iron Giant).

Lilo & Stitch should easily appeal to audiences of all ages through its wide breadth of humor. Lilo's antics will appeal to those looking for "kids will say and do the darnedest things" jokes. Stitch will appeal to those looking for pet (and ray-gun blasting) humor, as well as providing some of the film's best sight gags (several of which have unfortunately already been divulged by the film's advertising). Stitch's alien pursuers not only get to make subtle jabs at environmentalism, but provide physical and sight-gag humor as well (including that classical nugget of comedy, dressing up in drag). And the screenplay takes subtle and not-so-subtle digs at a number of films, ranging from Godzilla to Men in Black. A less-restrained movie reviewer might go so far as to suggest it will leave you in stitches.

It's also worth mentioning the prominent role that Hawaii itself plays in the film. From the lavish opening sequence, displaying the tropical beauty and native customs of the islands, to a playful surfing sequence (with requisite tribute paid to Duke Kahanamoku, the legendary Hawaiian father of modern surfing) to the film's beautifully watercolored backgrounds (a technique not employed by the studio since Dumbo), it is impossible to ignore the setting (which even serves as a minor plot point). The soundtrack is heavy with traditional Hawaiian influences - including the instantly recognizable Aloha `Oe - and the Hawaiian concept of ohana is the basis for the film's central theme of family and belonging. Just about the only aspect of island life and culture not lavishly illustrated is the inexplicable love of its natives for Spam.

The film's only weakness, if indeed it can be called one, is its repetition of its Cliff's Notes version of ohana, which is just slightly too expository to feel natural. Instead of merely underscoring the movie's theme, it highlights it with a bold neon marker and makes it periodically blink. It's almost as if the intent is to elevate it to the status of that other pithy native saying, The Lion King's hakuna matata, but it's an unnecessary ploy that clashes with many of the far more subtle interactions between the characters.

In the vast summer fields of excess (more sequels, more comedy, more aliens, more action), it would be simple to classify Lilo & Stitch as just another member of the wacky buddy-film genre, but to do so would be to do it a great disservice, as the filmmakers have chosen to make it a buddy film first, and a wacky film later. And much to the joy of film reviewers everywhere, it manages to succeed on both fronts.