Moana 2 is out now. The sequel has already been controversial, as the feature film started off as a Disney+ TV series and has been reworked into a theatrical release. The seemingly panicked pivot to put a sequel to a successful film in theaters following the box office bomb of 2022’s Strange World and the disappointing performance of 2023’s Wish suggests that Disney is retreating to sequels above new ideas, which is discouraging.
Next year’s movie is Zootopia 2. A third Frozen is coming in 2027. I loved Zootopia and Frozen, and that still sounds bleak to me. But before this pivot to sequels, Disney’s latest era has been full of bangers. Some call the movies that started with 2008’s Bolt the “revival era,” and it’s an apt description considering how excellent some of these movies have been. So we figured we’d rank them. Here’s the best and worst of Disney’s modern era.
Wish is a hot mess. The 2023 film was meant to be a celebration of Disney’s 100th anniversary, and it instead ended up being one of the low points of the company’s animated canon. Yes, it’s gorgeously animated, employing a beautiful marriage of watercolor and 3D animation styles, and its music, penned by Julia Michaels and Benjamin Rice, is lovely, albeit undermined by awkward lyrics. But beyond that, it’s an incoherent, clichéd story that’s only notable for suggesting that numerous Disney characters and concepts all emerge from the same shared universe. It might end up giving Kingdom Hearts some cool tools to work with for its Disney crossovers, but it’s a movie that’s mostly better off forgotten. However, Chris Pine’s King Magnifico is in the running for hottest Disney villain. So it’s got that going for it.
2018’s Ralph Breaks the Internet still confounds me six years later. Modern Disney may be pretty synonymous with bleeding a property dry, but that tendency historically was not reflected by Walt Disney Animation Studios itself, which typically made one movie and then moved onto something else, leaving the other arms of Disney to do all the direct-to-video sequels and animated series. This sequel to 2012’s Wreck-It Ralph, however, was an arbiter for what would come, as Disney has become a sequel machine in the years since. However, Ralph Breaks the Internet is such an odd pivot from the video game tribute of its predecessor that it makes the entire “series” feel like an amorphous, malleable thing for Disney to play with. The heroes of Ralph Breaks the Internet enter a physical recreation of the world-wide web, including search engines, social media, online games, and what essentially equates to a digital theme park based on Disney properties. Sure, it’s got some great scenes, like when Vanellope meets the Disney Princesses, but the movie feels like an attempt to replicate Inside Out’s clever realization of concepts of thought, but without the thematic coherence to make it a compelling story. It’s a theme park experience of a movie, just throwing a variety of things at you to make you laugh and entertain you while narrative and meaning falls by the wayside, which is at least one thing that makes it consistent with the first film.
Given how beloved the original Moana is, it’s astounding just how little impression its sequel makes. Moana 2 makes multiple callbacks to the original film with referential dialogue, lyrics, and musical themes, meaning it feels like the sequel which is so desperate to recapture the magic of the original that it’s afraid to say or do anything of its own. There are endearing new characters, joining Moana’s seafaring adventures, and her new frenemy Matangi makes the most of her criminally short screen time. But Moana 2’s Disney+ streaming service origins reveal themselves in what feels like a disjointed, awkward pacing with long stretches of meandering. The film sets up a sequel at the end, because that’s what Disney is doing lately, so hopefully a Moana 3 feels more intentional than this middling sophomore slump.
There are a few movies more forgotten in the current era of Disney than Bolt, and that’s despite it arguably being the movie that brought the company into a new age. Its premise of a superpowered spy dog actor having a fish-out-of-water experience as he breaks containment is a ton of fun, though today it feels a little dated by its early 2000s, Dreamworks-style smarminess. Bolt may not have had the staying power of the movies that would follow it, but we likely wouldn’t have had modern classics like Tangled and Frozen had it not been for Bolt’s story about letting go of a glamorous life for a simple one with the people you love.
While the Winnie the Pooh franchise is certainly not forgotten, it does feel like the 2011 film has been lost amidst the bigger hits of Disney’s past decade. The movie carries the distinction of being the last 2D animated film Disney has released in a theater, which is fitting, as it does feel like the last bastion of a different era. Its animation style is one thing, but it’s also distinct from most movies on this list for not adhering to the same tendency toward quippy dialogue and sassy heroes that typify modern Disney. It’s simple, and that makes it refreshing compared to most movies Disney puts out these days.
It’s a shame that Raya and the Last Dragon came out when it did, a year into the covid-19 pandemic, because it didn’t have the chance to be the ticket-driving cultural phenomenon that so many Disney movies get to be. The Kelly Marie Tran-led film has a lot going for it, including a story that feels timely and relevant as it examines warring tribes divided by distrust, eventually brought together by a younger generation who fights to reunite the people. It also has some of the best action scenes in Disney’s catalog as it draws inspiration from classic martial arts films. The film’s mythology is interesting in a vacuum but was subject to criticism when viewed through the lens of its Southeast Asian influence. Raya and the Last Dragon has its heart in the right place and is wonderfully acted and animated. It just maybe could have used another pass or two.
I was outnumbered on this one. In my opinion, Wreck-It Ralph is a cool idea with messy execution. Its early scenes, like a group therapy session showing the titular arcade game baddy working it out alongside video game icons like Mario’s Bowser, Street FIghter’s Zangief, and Sonic’s Eggman, feel like vignettes from a more focused movie. Wreck-It Ralph is a pretty good Disney movie but a half-hearted video game tribute. It starts strong with a bunch of really good cameos in the beginning, but loses its grip on its premise as the movie goes on. That being said, Ralph and Vanellope’s respective journeys to self-actualization in the face of pushback from society are still wonderful and heartfelt. The fact that the sequel loses the plot even more has retroactively soured me on Wreck-It Ralph, but others at Kotaku enjoy it more than I do, so it gets an upward nudge.
Like Winnie the Pooh, The Princess and the Frog feels like a relic of the past compared to other movies on this list. The last 2D animated film featuring a Disney Princess remains a sore spot for some in the studio’s canon because it has been wielded in debates about the company’s trajectory and the perceived marketability of films starring a Black woman protagonist. But on its own, The Princess and the Frog is a delightful, classic Disney affair that shuns the company’s usual musical theater sound in favor of a gospel-infused, soulful, jazzy soundtrack fitting for its 1920s New Orleans setting. The Princess and the Frog turns a fairytale standard into a period piece, following Princess Tiana’s rise from rags to riches. It’s one of Disney’s most interesting spins on the fairytales it usually draws from, and despite the bullshit that surrounded it, Tiana has had staying power alongside her Disney Princess contemporaries.
Strange World is one of Disney’s most criminally underrated movies, full stop. The pulpy adventure film incorporates the Disney-standard generational trauma narrative to great effect as it follows three generations of the Clade family. Each has an idea of who their family is meant to be, and as the grandfather, father, and son of the family each reckon with their own beliefs, Strange World also delivers some of the most visually stunning animation Disney has ever put into (not enough) theaters. Strange World takes inspiration from adventure films like Indiana Jones, while also weaving in environmentalist themes propped up by a gorgeous alien universe. The titular world is made up of stunning, otherworldly vistas, lively characters both human and otherwise, and fascinating creatures that are, well, strange. And while its world is full of weirdness, its conflicts remain pretty human. The Clade family struggles to understand each other, and it takes reaching dangerous, unexplored places to consider the obvious. Tragically, Disney undermarketed the film, making it one of the biggest box office bombs in history. If you’ve got a Disney+ account, the movie is streaming, and it fucking rules. God, it deserved better.
If this list were just a reflection of my own personal tastes and opinions, Frozen II would be #1. I generally consider the two Anna and Elsa movies a duology, a single, inseparable pair, but I’m sure if I ranked them together as #1 someone would call that a copout. So here we are. I’m okay with placing Frozen II here because I do agree with criticisms that the sequel’s worldbuilding is a bit bloated and convoluted. Disney released a documentary on the film’s development that reveals Disney hadn’t fully committed to certain major elements of the film even late into development, and that shows in the vague ways parts of its story conclude. That being said, Elsa’s journey from self-acceptance to finding community is the natural next step following the events of the first film. Frozen expertly subverts the usual Disney Princess tropes, but Frozen II’s exploration of what actually happens next after Anna and Elsa have come together as sisters feels earned. This is punctuated by the stunning soundtrack, gorgeous fall aesthetic, and a willingness to intently dissect who its characters are and consider who they might become. Disney is in sequel mode these days, so we will be getting at least two more Frozen movies. As exhausting as that sounds, Frozen II’s thoughtful examination of its two most iconic modern heroes gives me hope that they will maintain that same care moving forward.
I fucking love Encanto. I do not like half of its soundtrack. Lin-Manuel Miranda and I have never quite gelled, and that doesn’t change when his music is attached to an otherwise excellent film. “We Don’t Talk About Bruno” is one of my karaoke go-tos, but otherwise I find most of Encanto’s music either plagued by Miranda’s usual grating sing-talky style or just dreadfully dull compared to that of most Disney movies. With that giant boulder pushed out of the way, Encanto is probably the best exploration of the generational trauma Disney has become synonymous with. It follows the Madrigal family, who have been gifted superhuman powers with which to aid their community. Those powers also come with the great weight of expectation from heroine Mirabel’s grandmother, who has been the matriarchal backbone of the family since she escaped a war-torn Colombia with her children. Encanto portrays a family fractured by expectations with a great deal of empathy for each generation. It’s cathartic to see younger generations finally find the courage to advocate for themselves after years of being held to an unreachable standard, and Encanto shows that, within reason, even the most fractured connections can be repaired.
Zootopia is a complex onion of a movie to unpack because it has its heart in the right place but its mixed messages have made it harder to go back to in the years since it premiered in 2016. On the surface, Zootopia is a film about prejudice. Its titular metropolis is meant to be a paradise where anthropomorphic predators and prey live together in harmony. Rookie cop Judy Hopps moves to the city and discovers that idealized vision is not as it seems, and is forced to reckon with her own privilege after seeing how the social hierarchy affects predators like con-man fox Nick Wilde. The core allegorical premise is strong, and leads to some of the most emotionally affecting moments in recent Disney memory, it’s the pro-cop framing that feels harder to swallow eight years later. Sure, the movie examines the “bad apples” in the system, but feels largely uncritical of the institution it idolizes. It’s a Disney movie, so it’s not going to be particularly radical in its thinking. Its discussions of prejudice and privilege are apt and it does a good job of presenting those in a way that the average child (or adult, let’s be frank) might take something away from, but I’m interested to see if next year’s Zootopia 2 interrogates some of its core premises, though I’m not holding my breath. All that said, Zootopia has some of Disney’s sharpest writing, funniest comedic setpieces, and best performances from Ginnifer Goodwin and Jason Bateman as its two leads. Nick remains one of my favorite Disney characters. I’m a mark first and a hater second. I can’t wait to see these two in theaters again next year.
It’s been 10 years since Big Hero 6, and I’m surprised that it’s still the only Marvel property to get an official Disney animated adaptation since the company acquired the comic book maker back in 2009. Big Hero 6 is a loose adaptation of one of Marvel’s more obscure properties, and what sticks out to me all these years later is its exploration of grief, which it notably examines through the experience of a young boy. Big Hero 6 is a superhero origin story for protagonist Hiro Hamada, but more than that, it’s an extended, action-packed therapy session as he learns to let go of his anger and to embody the best parts of those he’s lost. This is all facilitated by Baymax, one of Disney’s most instantly likable characters in recent memory. The puffy, robotic doctor is a source of some of the film’s best gags, but is also the movie’s beating heart, embodying the transformative themes of Big Hero 6 with each scene he’s in. I’d say the movie left me wanting more, but since it led to an animated sequel series and a Disney+ spin-off, we haven’t exactly been lacking for stuff set in the film’s universe, even if Disney hasn’t pushed for a proper sequel yet like it has with numerous other recent hits.
The final three on our list are widely considered to be the modern classics of Disney’s revival era, and I could easily see any of them in the top spot on any given day. But we can’t give them a three-way tie for first place (I mean, I don’t think we can), so I’ve gotta give Moana the third-place spot. Moana’s journey from a begrudging leader to a bold, trailblazing one takes her across oceans she’s only ever dreamed of, having been kept sequestered on her home island by her parents her whole life. But dreaming of something is one thing; reckoning with the reality of what you feel you’re capable of is much harder. Moana is a story of self-doubt and resilience, and knowing that the two feelings intermingle. Accomplishing anything means always finding your way back to the latter.
Thankfully, Moana leans less into Lin-Manuel Miranda’s more annoying bag of musical tricks than Encanto did, and Auliʻi Cravalho’s soaring vocals deliver empowering anthems that elevate the film’s most emotional beats. I’m curious to see if Moana 2 can live up to its predecessor with new songwriters at the helm.
2010’s Tangled was the blueprint for modern Disney before it reached near caricature status with Wish. The studio’s take on Rapunzel’s story is full of youthful joy, sharp wit, delightful earworms, and top-of-the-class animation. As a first attempt to bring the Disney Princess formula into 3D animation, Disney got it in one. Mandy Moore and Zachary Levi (damn, talk about a drop-off) have great chemistry as Rapunzel and rogueish criminal Eugene, and Broadway veteran Donna Murphy is brilliantly cast as Rapunzel’s scheming mother. Disney’s depiction of Rapunzel as a sheltered but exuberant young woman looking for a life beyond the monotonous one she’s suffered her whole life inspired multiple Disney heroines in the decade that followed. Even after all those imitators, however, Rapunzel still feels like one of the most genuine depictions of the archetype. Her story ends in the tower where it began, but she and Eugene return to the prison changed, both willing to sacrifice themselves for the other. Those selfless expressions are what ultimately free them from their old lives and allow them to find something new together.
If Tangled was Disney establishing that it could translate its previous successes into 3D, Frozen was a subversion of what everyone believed a Princess movie to be. The 2013 adaptation of “The Snow Queen” is built upon pulling the rug out from under you. For most of its run, it’s an endlessly charming story about two sisters who have been driven apart by fear, to the point that when they grow up, they barely know each other. One has been taught to fear the other, and the other has been made to fear herself. It puts them at a standstill, desiring closeness but unable to facilitate it. But this is a Disney movie, and as far as popular culture believes, Princess Anna doesn’t need her sister, she just needs to find a man and then her life will begin. First leaning into most people’s expectations of the Disney formula, Frozen then stabs viewers in the back, twists the knife, and kicks them down a stairwell. It’s both a pointed commentary on the blind spots in the company’s earlier work and a declaration of the studio’s ethos moving forward. That on its own makes Frozen one of the best films Disney has ever put in a theater, but the pitch-perfect casting of Idina Menzel and Kristen Bell helped shape two of the most recognizable pop culture characters of the past decade. The two leads give voice to some of the best songs in Disney’s catalog, tying together what remains the best example of a modern classic Disney has to its name. Frozen II’s exploration of Anna and Elsa builds beautifully on top of the original’s foundation, but even if it hadn’t, the story of two sisters reuniting without fear still exemplifies the best that Disney has to offer.