We find ourselves once again in the familiar territory of the Disney remake machine. While the studio flirted with live-action versions of its animated classics in the 1990s, the floodgates truly burst open following the billion-dollar success of Tim Burton’s Alice In Wonderland in 2010. Since that landmark, Disney has churned out over 20 such projects, averaging almost one every year. Yet, among all these attempts, few feel as recent or as entirely pointless as the 2026 release of Moana. The original 2016 animated Moana remains a high point in the history of Walt Disney Animation Studios. It was a funny, moving, and poignant coming-of-age story that provided a winning Polynesian perspective on the traditional Disney Princess template. The logic behind this redo, arriving a mere decade later, seems to be that because the first film was loved, audiences will automatically embrace this one. However, it functions as a shot-for-shot remake, functioning much like Gus Van Sant’s 1999 version of Psycho—a pure exercise in imitation.
Jarring Visuals and Technical Mismatches
Despite the high familiarity, something about the production feels fundamentally off. Calling it live-action feels like a misnomer, given that roughly two-thirds of this film is animated. The live-action components are simply actors composited into these sequences. Even then, digital doubles are clearly utilized during ocean scenes. The artificiality is striking; at one point, a character refers to their surroundings as a “sacred place” while clearly standing in a green-screen studio. Where the animation in the original was crisp, coherent, and sharp, the aesthetic here feels awkward and jarring. Cartoon characters like the goofy chicken Heihei and the dart-firing Kakamora maintain their animated design while standing next to flesh-and-blood humans. Unlike the 2020 remake of Mulan, which at least attempted to ground its narrative in live-action by excising elements ill-suited for the medium, there is no actual attempt to adapt Moana to this new format.
Performances and Direction
Catherine Laga'aia, stepping into the titular role, provides a bright and breezy screen presence with a voice that hits Broadway-standard quality. Dwayne Johnson, reprising his role as the shapeshifting demigod Maui, occasionally feels like an AI-generated interpretation of the character—somewhat uncanny in his wig and nipple-less bodysuit—yet he undeniably remains charismatic. There are brief flashes where you manage to ignore the strangeness of the endeavor. Lin-Manuel Miranda’s songs remain unassailably brilliant, serving as effective earworms. The ancestor-tribute track, “We Know The Way,” is particularly moving, elevated by the performance of a large ensemble cast of Pacific Islander actors.
Ultimately, the film is deeply confusing. Directed by Hamilton’s Thomas Kail in his feature debut, there is no discernible authorial voice present here. Where the original felt vibrant and original, this version feels empty. Even children are likely to feel shortchanged by the experience. One has to wonder why anyone would pay money to watch a demonstrably worse version of a film that is already available to stream on Disney+.
