Imaginative Hoppers Overflows in Chaotic Comedic Effervescence
Pixar returns to the head of the animation class with Hoppers, a vibrant, imaginative, and, best of all, exceedingly funny flight of zany madness that is sure to send audiences out of the theater sporting a gigantic smile. Director Daniel Chong (one of the minds behind the We Bare Bears phenomenon) creates an anarchic sojourn into the animal kingdom that’s a continual joy and, in the process, crafts a film that’s easily the animation powerhouse’s best since 2022’s magnificent Turning Red.
Mabel (voiced by Piper Curda) is a 19-year-old college student and community activist who is determined to save the small, peaceful pond located behind her late grandma Tanaka’s (Piper Curda) house from being demolished by her town’s opportunistic mayor, Jerry Generazzo (Jon Hamm). He wants to construct a new freeway extension, insisting that there will be no danger to the resident wildlife as all the creatures — beavers, bears, rabbits, ducks, even the insects — have recently moved away.
Having grown up in this house with her beloved grandmother, continually in awe of the natural world this pond has helped flourish, Mabel knows this has to be a lie, and she’s willing to do whatever is required to prove it. When she stumbles upon a secret experiment involving mind transference, robotics, and animal observation run by one of her professors, Dr. Sam (Kathy Najimy), the youngster discovers the perfect way stop Jerry from completing his freeway. All she has to do is mind transfer into the robot body of a beaver, head out into the wild, convince another beaver to build a dam back and the pond, and then sit back and watch as all of the animals come back. Easy-peasy.
If only things were that simple.
Drawing on everything from Charles Addams to Dr. Seuss to Looney Tunes to, yes, even Avatar for inspiration, Chong and screenwriter Jesse Andrews (the pair conceived the original story, with the latter credited for the finished script) craft a wildly goofy tale of community, understanding, found family, and togetherness that’s out of this world. They introduce a wacky wilderness of animal monarchy, all with its own pond rules, social systems, and species hierarchies, with Mabel taking wide-eyed bliss in learning about — and inadvertently dismantling — every single part of it.
At the heart of the story is the relationship between Mabel and the mammal king, George (Bobby Moynihan), a fellow beaver and a fun-living free spirit who always tries to see the upside to everything. But the more his new friend, whom he quickly labels “The King’s Paw” when she proves invaluable in helping to discover what led all of the embattled pond’s former residents to flee, helps him learn about humans, the more he starts to think drastic measures must be taken. George’s eternal optimism gets a chink in its furry brown armor.
But his form of “drastic” has more to do with communication, compromise, and cooperation than it does with escalating interspecies confrontation or with physically harming a human, including Jerry. This isn’t necessarily the case with his fellow monarchs. Some are eager to “squish” their adversaries to get back control of a vital habitat, even if they are human beings. It all leads to previously unimaginable levels of anarchy, including a flying Great White shark and a psychotic, power-hungry butterfly with genocidal aspirations.
That all likely sounds far darker than it actually is. Chong keeps the pace fast, the tone light, and the humor right at the forefront of all of the chaos. There’s a deranged cleverness to each gag and set piece that only gets better, and funnier, as events steamroll towards their conclusion. The film kept me on my toes. It’s all so visually resplendent, and the dialogue is so craftily absurd, that every facet transforms into an eye-popping whirligig of comedic sensationalism where up is down, right is left, and every facet is an invigorating delight.
All of that would be terrific on its own, but Chong refuses to skimp on the emotional components or on delivering subtly powerful life lessons in the same breath. The story’s celebration of the natural world or on issues of environmental protection are hardly shocking; that it is presented with such care, nuance, and heartwarming authority is. The filmmakers refuse to preach. Instead, they let these characters discover for themselves why these and other issues are of massive importance. By doing this, Chong gives them extra resonance that speaks to all viewers, young and old alike.
Events climax in a stunning, adrenaline-filled finale I did not see coming until it was burning across the screen like an out-of-control forest fire. Every character, Mabel, the animals, the other humans, all of them, they all have to come together in ways they never would have dreamt were possible beforehand. It’s a miraculous bit of ingenuity and pandemonium that took my breath away, and the happy, enchanted hush that fell over the youngest members of my preview audience was wondrous to behold.
Ultimately, Hoppers is a glorious reminder of what animation can accomplish when talented storytellers are given the freedom and the tools to cut loose, let it rip, and deliver every part of their vision to the screen (mostly) free from corporate bureaucratic restraint. That appears to be exactly what happened here. Whether it is or not, Pixar’s latest is marvelous, and that’s all that truly matters.
Film Rating: 3½ (out of 4)
