I love the How to Train Your Dragon animated trilogy (especially the first one, in case you couldn't tell here)! It was a pillar of my childhood, and the sequels were excellent additions to my high school and college years. When the news broke that a live-action remake was in the works, hesitancy ran amok in my head. The trilogy's losses against Disney each year at the Oscars, along with the fact that director Dean DeBlois was directing, assuaged some of those fears. My expectations were through the roof, and I am happy to report that this live-action remake of a classic animated film is well done and worthy!

Remaking an emotionally rich and visually iconic animated classic like How to Train Your Dragon is no small feat. Thankfully, the 2025 live-action adaptation doesn’t merely repackage the story with real actors and computer-generated dragons. Instead, it reimagines the saga with breathtaking scope, grounded performances, and a sincere reverence for the heart of the original. The result is a soaring, stirring film that stands tall on its own, deepening the emotional resonance of Hiccup and Toothless’s bond.

The core story remains the same: Hiccup (played with quiet charisma by Mason Thames) finds himself at odds with his warrior culture—and particularly with his hulking father, Stoick the Vast (a gruff yet tender Gerard Butler, reprising the role from the animated film). What sets this remake apart is its willingness to embrace the rawness and realism of live-action without losing the story’s fantasy charm. The CGI work on the dragons is, put simply, extraordinary. The creatures no longer have the soft, rounded cartoon aesthetic, but a sleek presence ranging from intimidating to adorable. They, and Toothless in particular, are still expressive, but are now imbued with weight, texture, and astonishing realism. Toothless’ eyes communicate volumes, and the animators’ restraint in giving him human-like qualities works to the film’s advantage. His every motion—from defensive snarls to playful twitches—feels lifelike, yet magical.

The cast is uniformly strong. Thames brings vulnerability and inner conflict to Hiccup, capturing his intellectual curiosity and emotional insecurity. He could’ve easily gone the safe route and done his best Jay Baruchel impersonation. Nico Parker is equally compelling as Astrid, giving the character more agency and emotional layering. She’s not just a tough fighter, but someone slowly drawn toward Hiccup’s way of thinking, with a believable arc of skepticism turning to admiration. To be honest, I didn’t think it would work, but the more the script develops her, the more I was put at ease. Meanwhile, Gerard Butler brings a sense of world-weariness to Stoick, portraying him not as a caricature of macho leadership but as a father struggling with grief, fear, and hope. Audiences can tell he’s attached to the character and had no hesitation saying yes to coming back.

The production design is nothing short of stunning. Berk has been realized with gritty detail—windswept cliffs, smoky mead halls, moss-covered training arenas—all giving the village a lived-in, immersive quality. Toothless’ hideaway, deep in a forested ravine, becomes a place of awe and quiet beauty, where his and Hiccup’s friendship is born. Cinematographer Bill Pope captures the rugged isolation of Viking life and the transcendent wonder of flight with equal grace. And the flying scenes? They’re as breathtaking as ever. With IMAX-ready visuals (the aspect ratio changes are an unexpected idiosyncrasy), swooping camera work, and John Powell’s iconic score—re-recorded with a live orchestra and expanded with new themes—the film's aerial sequences deliver a true cinematic rush.

Having shepherded the franchise, DeBlois wisely avoids over-explaining or retooling what already worked. Instead, he leans into the emotional core with greater intimacy. There’s a quieter, more naturalistic tone this time around. It’s as if he knew the risk of adapting his beloved golden child was massive, and ensured it was handled with as much care as possible. The film trades much of the animated humor for nuance. But it’s not joyless. The bond between Hiccup and Toothless is more tactile, and Hiccup and Astrid’s relationship is more grounded. Everything is respectfully layered, adding even more power to the movie as a whole.

Still, the film isn't without a couple of missteps. Some supporting characters, such as Gobber (Nick Frost) and the other dragon trainees, aren’t as fun as their original counterparts. As much as I like Frost and love what he and Simon Pegg did in the Cornetto Trilogy, he felt like a step down compared to Craig Ferguson. There was also a subplot involving Snotlout gaining his father’s approval, which the movie brushes over. Much like the animated movies, his subplot hints that he and Hiccup are related, but it’s never fully confirmed. However, these are small quibbles in an otherwise lovingly crafted film.

What the 2025 remake excels at is reminding audiences why this story still matters. In an era of spectacle-heavy fantasy films that often mistake noise for emotion, How to Train Your Dragon still flies on the strength of its heart. It’s a story about breaking cycles of fear, choosing empathy over violence, and forging identity between expectation and desire. Watching it unfold in a new, photorealistic context gives the tale fresh weight. The dragons may look different, and Hiccup may no longer be animated. But the magic remains. This live-action remake isn’t just a cash-in or a nostalgia play—it’s a heartfelt retelling that understands what made the original special and dares to grow with its audience. For fans of the franchise, it’s a rewarding return. For newcomers, it’s a welcome invitation into one of the most emotionally resonant fantasy worlds ever created.

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