Freakier Friday – Film Review

This year has been massively disappointing when it comes to 90s movie sequels. Despite my immense excitement for Happy Gilmore 2 and the new I Know What You Did Last Summer, the end results of both projects were ultimately extremely lackluster to say the least. Thankfully, though, it’s not all doom and gloom this year. Freakier Friday is not only a hugely worthy follow-up to the original – one of my all-time favorite, feel-good movies – but it’s one of the most heartwarming and funny movies of the entire year so far.

It’s Disney’s seventh trip through Mary Rodgers’ body-swap playground, and it could have easily stumbled into that trap. Instead, under Nisha Ganatra’s confident direction and Jordan Weiss’ sharp, heartfelt script, it manages to be a vibrant, funny, and surprisingly tender continuation that feels both fresh and reverent to its roots.

Set 22 years after the 2003 Freaky Friday—the version that cemented Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan’s mother-daughter duo as a pop culture touchstone—this sequel not only reunites much of that original cast but also deftly blends in a new generation of characters without losing the buoyant, chaotic energy that made its predecessor so beloved.

From the opening scene, Ganatra sets a tone that feels like slipping on a favorite hoodie—familiar, warm, and lived-in, but not afraid to sport a few new colors. The film wastes no time catching us up on the Colemans: Anna (Lohan), now a successful music producer and single mom to teenage Harper (Julia Butters), works closely with her mother Tess (Curtis), who has shifted comfortably into the role of supportive grandmother and occasional life coach. The dynamic between Curtis and Lohan is instantly engaging again, their rhythm as sharp as ever—an uncanny blend of affectionate banter and simmering exasperation that makes every exchange hum.

The arrival of the Davies family—Eric (Manny Jacinto) and his daughter Lily (Sophia Hammons, making an impressive feature debut)—is where the film plants its new dramatic stakes. Harper and Lily’s immediate dislike for each other provides the first spark of conflict, and while it would have been easy to lean on lazy “catty teen” tropes, Weiss’s script instead layers their rivalry with genuine fears of change, abandonment, and identity. Even before the inevitable magical mishap, there’s an emotional charge here that suggests the body swap will be about more than slapstick misunderstandings.

Ganatra, whose work often shines in balancing humor and sincerity (Late Night, The High Note), is in her element. She allows the comedy to unfold organically—yes, there are pratfalls, wardrobe malfunctions, and plenty of “Oh no, I’m in her body” awkwardness—but it’s all grounded in character truth. The laughs aren’t just about people flailing in unfamiliar skin; they’re about the small moments of realization and empathy that come from literally living in someone else’s shoes.

The psychic catalyst for the swap is handled with a wink to the audience. The setup is familiar, but the execution leans into the absurd without undermining the stakes. An earthquake, a cryptic warning, and a morning-after shock: we know the beats, but it’s the performances that elevate them. Curtis, now playing a teenager trapped in the body of a grandmother, and the young actresses tasked with channeling Lohan’s seasoned Anna, give performances that are as committed as they are nuanced. There’s a refreshing lack of cynicism; the cast clearly embraces the conceit.

One of the film’s greatest strengths lies in its pacing. At just under two hours, it never drags, and the plot is neatly segmented into a series of escalating challenges—school detention, awkward family dinners, high-pressure work events—that keep the characters bouncing between comedic disaster and emotional revelation. Ganatra and editor Eleanor Infante know when to linger on a heartfelt moment and when to cut to the next punchline, giving the film an infectious momentum.

The music subplot, woven throughout Anna’s professional life, gives Freakier Friday an added layer of personality. Ganatra uses music both as a literal throughline—connecting characters, signaling emotional shifts—and as a thematic metaphor for harmony and collaboration. Without giving anything away, the musical climax is both satisfying and unabashedly crowd-pleasing, the kind of sequence Disney does best: joyously over-the-top, yet emotionally grounded.

Performance-wise, Freakier Friday is a treasure trove of small delights. Curtis proves, once again, why she’s a comedy powerhouse, leaning into physical humor without ever turning her character into a caricature. Lohan, whose return to Disney feels almost like its own meta-narrative, brings a lived-in warmth to Anna, grounding her more chaotic moments with maturity and grace. Jacinto plays Eric with an understated charm that sidesteps the “perfect new stepdad” cliché, while Julia Butters continues her streak of scene-stealing performances with razor-sharp comedic timing as Harper. Hammons, as Lily, has the trickiest role—balancing teenage stubbornness with vulnerability—and pulls it off with ease.

The returning supporting cast from the 2003 film is more than just a nostalgic cameo parade. Mark Harmon, Chad Michael Murray, Rosalind Chao, Ryan Malgarini, Christina Vidal Mitchell, and others slip comfortably back into their roles, providing the film with a lived-in continuity that makes this sequel feel earned rather than forced. There’s a gentle satisfaction in seeing where these characters have ended up, and the film wisely uses them to flesh out the world without distracting from the central story.

It’s also just such a bright and kinetic film, with Ganatra favoring warm, saturated tones that echo the film’s emphasis on connection and joy. The Los Angeles setting provides a sun-drenched backdrop for the chaos, and the cinematography makes clever use of split-focus and mirrored compositions to underscore the identity-swapping theme.

If there’s a minor knock against the film, it’s that some of the comedic beats—particularly in the early body-swap adjustment scenes—can feel a bit recycled from previous entries. While they’re still funny, seasoned franchise fans will see a few of them coming. Similarly, the resolution, while heartfelt, plays things a bit too safe; the film occasionally opts for comfort over surprise. But in a franchise built on magical wish fulfillment, a touch of predictability isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Ultimately, Freakier Friday succeeds because it remembers that the heart of a body-swap comedy isn’t the magic—it’s the empathy. Ganatra and Weiss ensure that the swaps serve the story’s emotional arc rather than just existing for comedic spectacle. The result is a film that delivers big laughs, warm fuzzies, and the rare sequel satisfaction of feeling both new and familiar.

By the time the credits roll, Freakier Friday stands tall as a reminder that Disney, when it commits to character-driven storytelling, can still recapture lightning in a bottle. It’s a spirited, heartfelt, and—yes—freakier take on a formula that still works, anchored by a cast that knows exactly how to swap bodies without losing their soul.

A smart, heartfelt sequel that dances gracefully between nostalgia and novelty, Freakier Friday proves that sometimes, switching places can bring everyone closer together.