Pixar’s Hoppers: A Rejection of Protest and Social Advocacy

Image: Pixar

From its opening frames, Pixar’s Hoppers makes no secret of its derivative DNA. When 19-year-old nature enthusiast Mabel Tanaka (Piper Curda) learns about a breakthrough by her biology professor, Dr. Sam (Kathy Najimy), she immediately draws the parallel for the audience. The tech—which allows a human consciousness to inhabit a synthetic animal—is essentially the neural link from James Cameron’s Avatar. Director Daniel Chong and co-writer Jesse Andrews attempt to recapture the studio’s golden era by blending the emotional shorthand of Up with adult-leaning parodies of Game of Thrones. However, this cinematic collage results in a disjointed experience that feels strangely cynical about its own message.

Mabel struggles with a volatile temper, a trait her grandmother (Karen Huie) helped soothe by teaching her to appreciate the wilderness. The film effectively mirrors the heart-wrenching passage of time seen in Up to establish the weight of their connection. Following her grandmother’s passing, Mabel becomes the self-appointed guardian of their favorite woodland glade. When the local mayor, Jerry Generazzo (Jon Hamm), unveils plans to pave over the sanctuary for a new highway, Mabel resolves to stop the development at any cost.

While the “youth vs. greedy developer” trope is a staple of family-friendly cinema, Hoppers makes the odd choice to treat Mabel’s activism with disdain. Her grassroots efforts and community organizing are portrayed as tiresome and futile. Even more baffling is her pivot to radical action: stealing a “Hopper” unit to infiltrate the animal kingdom. It is perhaps the most reckless decision made by a Pixar lead since Merida’s ursine mishap in 2012’s Brave.

Image: Pixar

Navigating the woods as a robotic beaver, Mabel encounters George (Bobby Moynihan), the “King of the Beavers” who governs a colony of displaced critters. Where Zootopia utilized its animal hierarchy to discuss social bias and The Wild Robot explored survivalist community, Hoppers leans into George’s grim pragmatism. His philosophy is one of fatalistic acceptance: life is cruel, and being eaten is just part of the process. Despite Mabel’s valid arguments that humans are the ones causing the territorial squeeze, she eventually accepts the role of “Paw of the King.”

The film’s thematic confusion peaks when Mabel finally rallies the animals to defend their home, only to immediately regret the escalation. It plays out like Avatar through a lens of regret, where the protagonist decides that standing up to exploitation is too extreme. While the narrative falters, Dave Franco provides a jolt of energy as Titus, a monarch butterfly with a penchant for madness, who elevates the tension of the final act.

Image: Pixar

Visually, the film remains a testament to Pixar’s technical mastery. The arrival of the various animal monarchs is staged with a grand, theatrical flair that evokes the classic Disney “court” scenes. While the background environments don’t quite match the layered density of Zootopia 2, the kinetic energy of the chase sequences and the terrifying beauty of a spreading forest fire prove that the studio’s artistry hasn’t waned—even if its storytelling has.

Ultimately, Hoppers feels caught in a creative identity crisis. It tries to balance Pixar’s recent trend toward intimate human dramas with the commercial safety of its legacy hits. By recycling familiar beats while simultaneously undermining its protagonist’s convictions, the film fails to leave a lasting impact. It’s a beautifully animated journey that concludes with a hollow victory, suggesting that the best way to handle conflict is to simply stop caring.

Hoppers arrives in theaters on March 6.

Source: Polygon