Pixar’s Hoppers – Movie Review
Zany, zappy and just the right amount of sappy, Hoppers is an energetic leap into the literal animal kingdom that somehow manages to balance a wacky sci-fi body-jumping premise with sincere environmental reflection. It’s the kind of film that feels almost allergic to sitting still as it constantly bounces between absurd comedy, heartfelt character beats and visual inventiveness but it’s all anchored by a protagonist whose emotional clarity gives the chaos real weight. In a cinematic landscape where animation can sometimes feel overly polished or risk-averse, Hoppers stands out as something refreshingly unhinged… in the best possible way.
The premise itself is delightfully ludicrous. Set in the aptly named Beaverton, scientists Sam (Kathy Najimy), Nisha (Aparna Nancherla) and Connor (Sam Richardson) have developed a piece of experimental technology that allows humans to transfer or ‘hop’ their consciousness into animal bodies, opening up a whole new frontier of exploration. Enter Mabel Tanaka (Piper Curda), a fiercely passionate environmentalist whose curiosity (and impulsiveness) leads her into the middle of this strange new world. What follows is part adventure, part identity comedy, part ecological fable, as Mabel quite literally experiences life from the perspective of the creatures she’s trying to protect, from the land-grabbing, beltway building Mayor Jerry (Jon Hamm).
From the outset, Hoppers makes it clear that it’s playing in a heightened, cartoon-forward space. This is not the hyper-realistic aesthetic of Finding Nemo or The Good Dinosaur, but something far more elastic and expressive. Characters squash and stretch, reactions are dialled up to eleven, and the animal world becomes a playground of kinetic visual gags. It’s closer in tone to Turning Red or even DreamWorks’ more anarchic output than classic Pixar restraint. And yet, it never feels like the film is abandoning emotional sincerity, rather it’s simply choosing a louder, more chaotic language to express it.
That tonal balancing act is perhaps the film’s greatest achievement. Director Daniel Chong (best known for We Bare Bears) brings a distinct sensibility that feels both new and surprisingly cohesive within Pixar’s evolving identity. There’s a looseness here, a willingness to let scenes spiral into absurdity before snapping back into emotional clarity. One moment you’re watching a frenzied, laugh-out-loud sequence of mammalian mishaps; the next, you’re sitting in a quiet beat that gently asks what it means to truly understand another living being. That oscillation between chaos and contemplation is where Hoppers finds its rhythm.
Central to all of this is Mabel herself, a genuinely fantastic lead. Animated protagonists live or die on how quickly they can win over an audience, and Mabel manages it almost instantly from her earliest animal “escape-ades”. Her passion for nature isn’t presented as naïve idealism, but as something deeply personal and active, thanks to the influence of her Grandma Tanaka (Karen Huie). She doesn’t just care, she acts, often impulsively, sometimes recklessly, but always with sincerity. That combination of fiery determination and emotional openness makes Mabel endlessly watchable. Even when the plot spirals into its most outlandish territory, Mabel’s perspective keeps us grounded.
Piper Curda’s vocal performance behind Mabel (which feels pitch-perfect throughout) leans fully into both her comedic and emotional extremes. There’s a rawness to her delivery that matches the film’s heightened tone, but also a softness in the quieter moments that prevents the character from becoming overwhelming. It’s this duality that allows the film to shift gears so effectively, because at its core, we believe in her. Beyond Mabel, the ensemble cast proves to be one of the film’s secret weapons. The supporting characters, both human and animal, are brought to life with a vibrant mix of comedic timing and distinct personality, each voice performance leaning into the film’s heightened energy without tipping into noise. There’s a clear sense that the cast understands the tone they’re operating within, embracing the absurdity while still grounding their characters emotionally. Standout turns come from Bobby Moynihan, as the delightfully optimistic beaver King George, Jon Hamm as the scheming slimy mayor Jerry Generazzo, and Dave Franco as the increasingly deranged and unhinged tiny Titus. Even when characters only appear briefly, they leave an impression, contributing to a world that feels alive, eccentric, and joyfully overcrowded.
Comedically, Hoppers is arguably one of Pixar’s funniest films in years. The body-swapping mechanics open up a near endless stream of visual and situational humour, and the film takes full advantage. Whether it’s the awkwardness of learning to move in a completely different body, or the escalating absurdity of animal interactions, the jokes land with remarkable consistency. Importantly, the humour never feels cynical or mean-spirited, rather it’s playful, inventive, and deeply tied to the film’s premise.
But beneath all the chaos, there’s a clear thematic throughline. Hoppers is, at its heart, a film about empathy and what it means to truly see the world from another perspective. The environmental messaging is present, but it’s not heavy-handed. Rather than lecturing the audience, the film invites us to experience the natural world differently, to consider the lives of animals not as abstract concepts, but as lived realities. It’s a smart approach, one that aligns with Pixar’s best tradition of embedding big ideas within accessible storytelling.
That said, the film isn’t without its imperfections. The frenetic pacing, while energising, can occasionally feel overwhelming. There are moments where the narrative threatens to get lost in its own momentum, where the sheer volume of ideas outpaces the film’s ability to fully explore them. And yet, even these shortcomings feel almost intrinsic to the film’s identity. Hoppers is messy but it’s a deliberate kind of messiness. It’s a reflection of its ambition and its refusal to play things safe. In an era where studio animation can sometimes feel overly calculated, there’s something genuinely exciting about a film that is willing to be a little chaotic, a little uneven, if it means delivering something distinctive.
For longtime Pixar fans, Hoppers represents an interesting evolution. It may not sit alongside the studio’s all-time greats, but it signals a continued willingness to experiment, and to bring in new voices and new styles. It feels less like a return to form and more like a step forward into something different that blends Pixar’s emotional DNA with a more contemporary, expressive sensibility.
Ultimately, Hoppers is a joyful, unpredictable ride. It’s the kind of film that leaves you laughing one moment and unexpectedly moved the next, often within the same scene. It may not be perfect, but it’s bursting with personality, creativity and heart. And sometimes, that’s exactly what you want from an animated adventure. For those looking for something energetic, heartfelt and just a little bit wild, Hoppers is well worth the jump.
Hoppers is in Australian cinemas March 26
