My daughter is now at the age where she will go see any new animated movie in the theater, which means that over and over again, I come across a very specific vision from the world of children’s entertainment: Wouldn’t it be great if all animals lived together in harmony? The theme is definitely a knock out effect Zootopiathe 2016 blockbuster whose sequel was the highest-grossing US film of 2025. But that success also spawned a sci-fi woodland romp. Wild Robot; Oscar-winning vision, a post-apocalyptic collaboration of cats Flow; and the paean basketball team work that was this year Goat. Now there is HoppersPixar’s latest film, which follows a girl who projects her brain into a beaver robot in hopes of saving the habitat she loves.
I expected it Hoppers to provide a pleasant change in the manner of those other films. Take it Zootopia series and Goatin which animals live in a non-human world and perform our roles: They wear clothes, earn money, and defy their basic instincts to maintain their wonderful, civilized societies. Each of those films also features an underdog hero, who succeeds in the face of unsuspecting people—someone who is easy for any child watching. In Zootopiathe main character (a rabbit named Judy Hopps) becomes a police officer despite the fact that, as a rabbit, she is seen as “prey” rather than “hunter.” In Goatpygmy goat Will Harris is the first “little” to play intense basketball against teams of elephants, giraffes, and other giant creatures. But if these movies are examples of the development of creatures that transcend their differences, so be it Hoppers it’s an amazing inspiration for the idea. Its advertising promises serious hijinks between various species whose ecosystems are threatened by humans. The movie, in fact, is interesting about what could happen if the prey and the hunter tried to join together: Their efforts would immediately turn into a desperate, even political situation.
Hoppers it’s set in a reality that more closely resembles our films than those of other animal-centered films, and even has a human protagonist. Mabel Tanaka (voiced by Piper Curda) lives in Beaverton, Oregon, and fights to save the beautiful forest that she used to visit with her grandmother when she was young. The glade was miraculously cleared of wildlife just before the highway was built right through it. Mabel, now a college student, hijacks her professor’s new experimental technology to “jump” into a beaver’s artificial body, which allows her to communicate with the animals—so she can lure stray criminals back home. (It’s silly, yes; just go with it.)
Mabel quickly realizes that the wild inhabitants have not left of their own accord but have been pushed out by the crooked mayor, Jerry (Jon Hamm). Jerry has planted fake trees that emit high-frequency noises to scare them away, allowing him to develop the land as he pleases. Mabel’s mission is clear and reads appropriately for a children’s movie: She just has to rally the animals to protest, tear down Jerry’s equipment, and restore peace to her beloved park. But the basic message of Hoppers it’s just that the strange beast Mabel works with is not a well-oiled machine. The film questions the limits of collective action: Mabel and her furry friends can save the rock, but they find more chaos than progress at the moment.
In order to face the invasion of their home, the various groups of dogs have each anointed a friendly “king” to lead them. The mammals are led by a naïve beaver named George (Bobby Moynihan), who insists that everyone can still live in peace even as their territory shrinks. Mabel is the angry revolutionary, while George is the establishment stickler, working to plug holes on a sinking ship and refusing to fight back against the people who have taken their land. Hoppers it’s about their two perspectives meeting in the middle: Mabel is right that George puts his head in the sand a little; George, however, is right that animals can’t just get everything they want through protest.
That approach struck me as a fun approach to cartoons for young children, and it underlines much of the plot. Mabel, in disguise, gathers wildlife to fight Mayor Jerry, but causes chaos in doing so. A megalomaniacal butterfly (Dave Franco) grows up and “beats” the humans who have killed his kind for a long time. A group of seagulls lift a shark out of the sea to try to eat Jerry alive. A massive fire eventually breaks out, requiring the destruction of the dam from George’s fellow friends to save the day. This comic violence is often associated with joy for the children watching, of course, but the lesson that Mabel learns from it is clear: Just knowing that you are in the right is not enough to get your way.
The take here is more poignant than that of other big animal movies, in which hard-working mammal protagonists triumph over adversity. Hoppers it’s a more measured viewing experience, a lecture aimed at young people about how we should limit our hopes and dreams. The premise also automatically makes it the most impressive work Pixar has put into theaters in years, a sign of what once set the studio apart as a mainstay of animated storytelling. While some movies aimed at children advocate how being yourself is the best way to live, Hoppers he adds a caveat—that “being yourself” doesn’t mean you’ll get everything you want.
