Moana (2026) Review!!

Synopsis – Live-action adaptation of the 2016 Disney animated film ‘Moana’.

My Take – Disney’s live-action remake machine shows no signs of slowing. While the box office stumbles of The Little Mermaid (2023) and Snow White (2025) suggested the trend might finally stall, the runaway success of Lilo & Stitch (2025) proved otherwise. With Tangled already filming and a Lilo & Stitch sequel in pre-production, the studio continues to double down.

This weekend sees director Thomas Kail (Hamilton) helm an adaptation of Moana (2016), which at the time of its release was a high point in Walt Disney Animation Studios’ recent history: a fun, funny, poignant coming-of-age yarn with fantastic music and a winning Polynesian spin on the Disney Princess template.

So the logic here seems simple: if you loved the original, you’ll embrace this redo, arriving barely a decade later. Yet what’s on screen is, for all practical purposes, the same film. It contributes little to the original’s legacy and struggles to justify its own existence.

Sure, there are bright spots like spirited musical numbers, respectful nods to Polynesian culture, and a breakout performance from Catherine Lagaʻaia, but the magic never quite rekindles. Every strength here was already done better in 2016. The songs remain the highlight, briefly injecting energy and emotion, yet they’re too scattered to offset the sluggish pacing.

At nearly two hours, the film feels padded, weighed down by its shot-for-shot fidelity. In the end, it charts no new course, content to sail in the shadow of its animated predecessor.

The story follows Moana (Catherine Lagaʻaia), the spirited 16‑year‑old daughter of Chief Tui (John Tui), who lives on the lush Polynesian island of Motunui. A millennium earlier, the goddess of nature, Te Fiti, used a pounamu stone as her heart to bring life to the ocean—until the shapeshifting demigod Maui (Dwayne Johnson) stole it, hoping to gift humanity the power of creation. His theft shattered Te Fiti, and in the ensuing battle with the volcanic demon Te Kā, Maui lost both the stone and his magical fish hook to the sea.

Now, as blight and decay creep across Motunui, the ocean chooses Moana to restore the heart and heal the world. Her father resists, determined to keep her bound to the island, but her grandmother Tala (Rena Owen) urges her to embrace destiny. For the first time, Moana must leave home, braving the vast ocean to save her people and confront the darkness unleashed by Maui’s mistake.

If you’ve seen the 2016 film, you already know what Jared Bush and Dana Ledoux Miller’s screenplay delivers. This remake shadows the original with near-forensic precision, replicating scenes, musical beats, and even shot compositions in a way that feels more like translation than reinterpretation. The moments that truly sparkle are those rare bursts of whimsy, when the film loosens its grip and lets eccentricity shine.

Lin-Manuel Miranda’s songs remain the crown jewels and the ancestor-tribute “We Know the Way” is especially stirring, lifted by a sweeping ensemble of Pacific Islander performers. Visually, the effects impress, but they also expose the remake’s greatest compromise. The animated original exploded with dazzling color, every frame a living painting. Here, the pursuit of photorealism mutes that vibrancy.

The island is still beautiful, but its natural palette lacks the eye-popping brilliance that made the animated world iconic. Authenticity comes at the cost of magic. That philosophy extends to Motunui’s inhabitants. Their grounded portrayal lends the world a welcome realism, making it feel like a place that could genuinely exist. Yet immersion falters in the opening scenes, where clumsy dialogue leaves performances slightly adrift. It’s not ruinous, but in a film that must sweep audiences away from the first moment, such technical missteps blunt the impact.

Performance wise, newcomer Catherine Lagaʻaia, stepping into the role once voiced by Auliʻi Cravalho, brings a bright, breezy presence and a Broadway-caliber voice. Yet the screenplay rarely allows her to explore deeper, messier emotions. Even the film’s darkest or most poignant moments are quickly softened with an enthusiastic smile, leaving Moana feeling somewhat shallow and the stakes diminished.

Dwayne Johnson, reprising Maui, commits fully and lands a few comedic beats. Still, his return raises questions. Between the oversized prosthetic muscle suit, flowing wig, and the unavoidable reality of his age compared to the animated original, his presence can be more distracting than empowering. A fresh casting choice might have better served the live-action format.

Jemaine Clement once again delights as the treasure-obsessed crab Tamatoa, while Rena Owen, John Tui, and Frankie Adams all deliver solid, grounded turns that understand the assignment. On the whole, ‘Moana‘ is a competent but uninspired live-action remake that remains faithful to the original beat-for-beat, yet stripped of the magic that made it unforgettable.