Lilo & Stitch – Film Review

Disney’s live-action remake of Lilo & Stitch, directed by Dean Fleischer Camp (Marcel the Shell with Shoes On) and co-written by Chris Kekaniokalani Bright and Mike Van Waes, arrives in 2025 with both curiosity and trepidation attached. A hybrid of live-action and animation, this reimagining of the 2002 animated cult classic attempts to balance heartfelt storytelling with CGI spectacle, but the result is a film that feels mostly unnecessary. Despite its sincere lead performance and occasional emotional clarity, Lilo & Stitch is ultimately a two-star disappointment weighed down by awkward visuals, an over-sanitized tone, and the absence of key characters that made the original so rich.

The narrative remains largely intact: a young Hawaiian girl named Lilo (played by newcomer Maia Kealoha) adopts what she believes to be a dog, only to discover that her new pet—Stitch—is a destructive alien fugitive. As intergalactic authorities chase Stitch across the islands, Lilo and her older sister Nani (Sydney Elizebeth Agudong) try to hold their small, fragile family together, all while being watched by social worker Cobra Bubbles (Courtney B. Vance). Lilo teaches Stitch about ‘ohana—family—and in doing so, both find something they didn’t know they were missing.

But this 2025 version doesn’t add enough meaningful new material to justify its existence. Rather than expand or evolve the story for modern audiences, the remake plays it safe, delivering a slightly neutered, less spontaneous version of the original narrative, with fewer teeth, fewer stakes, and less personality.

One of the few elements that works resoundingly well is Stitch’s live-action redesign. Rendered through CGI but textured with tangible fur, the character walks a fine line between cartoony charm and believable presence. Chris Sanders once again voices the genetically engineered alien, bringing the same mischief and raspy exuberance that made Stitch so iconic over two decades ago. His voice performance remains a delight and acts as an anchor to the original’s spirit.

However, Stitch’s animation is one of the few CGI successes. The rest of the effects vary wildly in quality. Other alien characters—especially Dr. Jumba Jookiba (played by a game but underserved Zach Galifianakis)—often look uncanny, jarring, and poorly integrated with their human co-stars. The environments feel flatly lit and heavily reliant on green screen, sapping the film of the sun-drenched warmth and lived-in beauty of the animated original’s watercolor-inspired Hawaii. While Stitch pops visually, the film’s broader aesthetic feels like a downgrade.

Maia Kealoha gives a heartfelt and sincere performance as Lilo. She captures the strange, offbeat, and emotional tone of the character with quiet precision. Her moments of loneliness and fierce loyalty shine, and she manages to carry much of the film on her young shoulders. Sydney Elizebeth Agudong as Nani tries her best, but the film flattens her character, reducing the chaos and pressure that once made Nani so compelling to a more generalized “worried older sister” archetype. Their sisterly bond is undercooked, lacking the gritty realism and tension of the original.

Courtney B. Vance brings gravitas to Cobra Bubbles, though his screen time is limited, and his lines feel more perfunctory than layered. Zach Galifianakis’s Dr. Jumba veers into broad comic relief, but the tonal tightrope he walks often leads to misfires—his menace is diminished, and his banter with Stitch lacks the offbeat energy of his animated predecessor.

Perhaps the most glaring omission is Captain Gantu, the towering alien enforcer from the original film. His absence removes a key layer of tension and a memorable antagonist dynamic from the story. With no real threat pursuing Stitch (beyond vague gestures from Jumba and the Galactic Federation), the stakes feel murky and unconvincing. The film also simplifies or omits other quirky supporting characters who once helped flesh out Lilo’s world. What’s left is a leaner, more emotionally generic narrative that undercuts the off-kilter personality that gave the 2002 version such staying power.

Moreover, the setting feels oddly detached from its Hawaiian cultural roots. While there is effort in casting and including Hawaiian language and touches, the film’s tone leans more globalized and sanitized than culturally specific. Unlike the original, which leaned into the rhythms, textures, and realities of island life, the live-action version flirts with depth but rarely dives in. It gestures at cultural respect without embodying it.

More than anything, Lilo & Stitch struggles with the existential question plaguing so many of Disney’s recent remakes: why does this movie exist? The 2002 version was a modest, charming oddity in Disney’s catalog—a story with heart, quirk, and real emotional weight that resonated with kids and adults alike. It didn’t cry out for a sleek update, and certainly not one that smooths over the idiosyncrasies in favor of a more conventional family adventure.

This remake doesn’t desecrate its source material, but it doesn’t enhance it either. It plays like a cautious echo of a louder, bolder, and more sincere film—one whose hand-drawn imperfections and unorthodox charm are replaced with digital polish and broader beats. The result feels like a simulacrum: competent, but emotionally hollow.

There are moments in Lilo & Stitch that hint at what this remake could have been. Some scenes between Lilo and Stitch do tug at the heartstrings, and the core message of found family still resonates. But those moments are islands in a sea of awkward CGI, uninspired scripting, and a nagging sense of corporate redundancy.

Disney’s obsession with retooling its animated catalog into live-action showcases has yielded a mixed bag, and Lilo & Stitch falls toward the bottom of that spectrum. It has some heart, but it lacks the weirdness, specificity, and soul that made the original so beloved. Stitch may have crash-landed in Hawaii again, but this time, the landing doesn’t stick.