Disney’s live-action remake of beloved Lilo & Stitch (2002) is little more than a cash-in on nostalgia that is ignorant of the original’s significance.
★★☆☆☆
The original animated Lilo & Stitch is cherished around the world. Director Chris Sanders (who also voiced Stitch, the adorable blue alien) has told several sweet tales of family bonds formed between the unlikeliest of crowds: the first How to Train Your Dragon (2010), which is also set for a live-action remake soon, and The Wild Robot (2024). Lilo & Stitch remains his most beloved because there are few Disney movies quite like it.
It was a step away from their usual style of adapting fairy tales; a sci-fi alien story with a strong emotional depth in exploring a bond between an alien creature and an orphan child. It proved timeless with its relatable themes of loneliness and finding loving bonds between a group of outcasts. The live-action remake essentially follows the same premise but lacks the personality and heart of the original in every sense.
Despite its impressive box office performance, the Lilo & Stitch remake has received a tepid critical response. Outlets have labelled it “unnecessary” as it “saps the original of its humour and satire.” Lilo & Stitch seems less interested in honouring its source material than in replicating it, often at the expense of what made the original special.
This is a common pattern with many of Disney’s live-action remakes. The Lion King (2019) was widely criticised for being a near shot-for-shot remake of the 1994 animated classic. Additionally, its photo-realistic CGI stripped the characters of emotional expressiveness, making it harder for audiences to form the same heartfelt connection. By contrast, Mulan’s remake (2020) strayed so far from the source material that it reimagined the titular lead as a superhero with innate powers. This undermined the original’s empowering narrative of personal growth, in which Mulan’s strength emerged through resilience, ingenuity, and hard-earned transformation.
Lilo & Stitch’s remake is guilty of both aspects. It hastily replicates the plot and iconic scenes of the original with far less energy and when it does attempt to deviate, it undermines the core message of the original.
Each character in the remake feels like an oversimplified version of their animated counterpart. While Maia Kealoha delivers an earnest performance as Lilo, the character is portrayed with a sanitised innocence, lacking the emotional complexity and unpredictable spirit that made the original Lilo so compelling. Her outbursts and moments of loneliness, which were the hallmarks of a real, multi-layered child, are toned down. As a result, the dynamic between her and Stitch loses its emotional contrast. In the original, Lilo’s empathy and emotional depth were essential in helping Stitch evolve beyond his chaotic, feral nature. Here, the two feel too alike: both cutesy and chaotic, therefore waning the emotional growth that once defined their bond.
The remake seems acutely aware of the legacy of its animated predecessor and in response, it hurtles through the plot at a breakneck pace. Key moments are rushed, as if the film is trying to cover familiar ground as quickly as possible. A clear example is the reimagining of one of the original film’s most poignant moments: Nani singing to Lilo on the hammock. In the animated version, this quiet, tender scene is given space to breathe, allowing the weight of their struggles to resonate fully. It’s followed by Stitch’s reflective sequence, as he begins to grasp the damage he’s caused; a crucial turning point for his character. In the remake, these moments are hurriedly spliced together in a chaotic montage, stripping away the emotional gravity.
The few changes the remake introduces actively undermine the emotional core of the original Lilo & Stitch. At the heart of the animated classic is the Hawaiian concept of ʻohana (meaning ‘family’ and, more importantly, that “nobody gets left behind or forgotten”). This message is driven by Nani, Lilo’s older sister, whose fierce determination to keep their fractured family together is one of the film’s most powerful threads.
Moreover, in the original, ʻohana was not just expressed through Lilo and Nani, but echoed through its alien characters – Stitch, Jumba and Pleakley – who found connection and purpose in each other. It was a touching reminder that even society’s outsiders and oddities could find family in unexpected places.
The remake, however, undercuts this central theme with a baffling subplot: Nani is offered a spot at a marine biology college, setting up a tired comedy-drama arc where she must choose between her future and her sister. Predictably, she’s talked into leaving, effectively abandoning Lilo. That single narrative turn betrays everything the original stood for and signals just how muddled this remake’s priorities are.
The remake also repositions Zach Galifianakis’ Jumba as the main antagonist. This change drains the climax of any real menace as Jumba is one half of the comic duo (both the original and remake). Galifianakis’ voice performance doesn’t help either; his refusal to emulate the character’s iconic Russian accent makes Jumba feel like a completely different (and far less interesting) presence.
The remake has also drawn criticism for omitting Pleakley’s iconic cross-dressing. It was refreshing in 2002 to see Disney embrace a diverse range of characters that appeal to many different groups. The remake, however, softens that as Billy Magnussen’s Pleakley relies on holographic projections of real humans to blend in.
Another aspect that gave the animated Lilo & Stitch its unique personality was its subtle criticism of how mass over-tourism has affected native Hawaiians: for example, the running gag of a sunburnt tourist constantly dropping his ice cream. But whereas the original criticised this, the remake glorifies it. Pleakley soaks in a lavish hotel bubble bath overlooking the ocean, while Lilo frequently enjoys the beachside hot tub, with the resort’s portrayal closer to advertisement than critique.
The remake of Lilo and Stitch continues a now-familiar Disney design and delivery from its live-action remakes. From The Lion King’s stunning but emotionally distant photorealism to Mulan’s hollow reinterpretation, these live-action versions often feel like lavish echoes of better films. Lilo & Stitch falls into the same trap as many others: imitate the past, but without understanding what made the original special.
The original animation thrived on quiet moments, heartfelt character work, and an authentic sense of pace, this new version replaces emotional depth with restless pacing and a barrage of nostalgia. Iconic scenes are recreated shot-for-shot, but lack the emotional nuance that made them memorable. In the few places the film dares to deviate, it does so at the expense of the story’s heart. The most notable diluted aspect is the theme of ʻohana that anchored the original.
The Verdict
In the end, the remake does not deepen the legacy of Lilo & Stitch; it merely mirrors it, offering a pale imitation framed by a blockbuster budget. For all its commercial success, it feels more like a corporate product than a heartfelt story.
Words by Joseph Jenkinson
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