Cast: Piper Curda, Bobby Moynihan, Jon Hamm, Kathy Najimy, Dave Franco, Eduardo Franco, Aparna Nancherla, Tom Law, Sam Richardson, Melissa Villaseñor, Isiah Whitlock Jr., Steve Purcell, Ego Nwodim, Nichole Sakura, Meryl Streep, Karen Huie, Vanessa Bayer
Genre: Drama
Director: Daniel Chong
In Irish Cinemas: 6th March 2026
Few cinematic staples feel as instantly recognisable as the chatty animal who thinks and behaves like a person. From the woodland innocence of Bambi through the Shakespearean sweep of The Lion King and the gourmet whimsy of Ratatouille, right up to the glossy franchise sprawl of Zootopia 2, animated cinema has long thrived on giving creatures human voices and feelings. On paper, the heroine of Pixar’s latest, Hoppers, sounds cut from the same cloth: Mabel, a fast-talking beaver voiced by Piper Curda, brimming with attitude and earnestness. She radiates pluck, moral fury and wide-eyed wonder in equal measure, the kind of creature audiences assume they already know.
Except the twist arrives early and refuses to let go. Mabel isn’t truly a beaver. She’s a 19-year-old skater-leaning college rebel whose consciousness has been transplanted into a mechanical animal shell. Yes, the beaver is effectively a robot. That left-field reveal is merely the gateway drug to a film that delights in piling oddity upon oddity.
The backstory lands with deliberate scruffiness. Raised in the fictional Beaverton, Mabel grows up fiercely devoted to animals, the sort of child who might try liberating a classroom’s worth of pets in one chaotic jailbreak. A grounding force arrives in the form of her grandmother, Grandma Tanaka (Karen Huie), who introduces her to a quiet forest glade and the restorative calm of watching nature unfold. Those early moments carry a softness that feels almost old-fashioned, evoking a pastoral calm before the narrative swerves into something far more eccentric.
Seven years later, the tone shifts. Now a university student, Mabel has evolved into a combustible animal-rights agitator. Her chief adversary: Mayor Jerry (Jon Hamm), a smug political operator intent on bulldozing a ring road straight through that cherished glade. The emotional stakes are deeply personal. This isn’t just activism; it’s a defence of memory. The plot kicks into gear when Mabel discovers that her unassuming biology lecturer, Dr Sam (Kathy Najimy), is secretly tinkering with forbidden science. Beneath her prim exterior lies a crackpot inventor who has perfected “hopping,” a mind-transfer technology that funnels human identity into bespoke animal androids. The process is gloriously ridiculous: hair-dryer helmets, clanking levers, mad-lab theatrics, and the film revels in the silliness.
Yet Hoppers refuses to linger on plausibility. Once the premise is established, the story barrels forward with gleeful disregard for logic. Inside the glade, Mabel passes as just another woodland creature, chirping and chattering to everyone else, while the audience remains in on the secret: she’s essentially an undercover avatar. That sly duality fuels much of the comedy. Director Daniel Chong embraces the chaos, steering the film into a brand of surrealism that feels like a sugar-rush remix of classic nature animation. Imagine a pastoral fable spliced with anarchic Saturday-morning madness.
The beaver enclave she infiltrates introduces one of the film’s warmest creations: George, a mellow, harmony-seeking leader voiced by Bobby Moynihan. His philosophy leans heavily toward empathy and coexistence, even extending grace to enemies who arguably deserve none. It’s a comically lofty worldview, especially given that Mayor Jerry’s schemes include destroying the beavers’ dam and installing sonic monstrosities only animals can hear. Moynihan lends George a weary gentleness, a blend of sincerity and befuddlement that keeps the character from drifting into pure parody.
As the world expands, so too does the film’s appetite for absurdity. A council of animal dignitaries turns proceedings into a carnival of inflated egos and manic energy. Brief voice cameos punch above their weight: Meryl Streep relishes a tiny role as an imperious insect monarch, while Dave Franco injects twitchy charm into her heir. The film’s wildest flourish arrives in a delirious action beat involving birds airlifting a great white shark onto a motorway pursuit, the sort of gag that makes no sense and yet lands through sheer commitment.
For all the lunacy, the script keeps one paw grounded in emotional soil. The creatures accept the brutal facts of the food chain with almost philosophical calm, creating a tonal balancing act between existential humour and heartfelt sincerity. Beneath the chaos lies a familiar Pixar pulse: a plea for collective effort and mutual understanding. That message risks sounding saccharine, but the film earns it through sheer momentum and invention.
Jon Hamm gradually deepens Mayor Jerry beyond caricature, shading his oily charm with flickers of insecurity and complexity. Meanwhile, Piper Curda anchors the madness, giving Mabel a restless urgency that recalls the emotional directness of characters from Inside Out. She remains the film’s beating heart, grounding the wilder flights of fancy.
Hoppers may not ascend to the rarefied heights of Pixar’s all-time heavyweights like Toy Story or their most emotionally devastating outings. Still, it stands as a reminder of the studio’s enduring knack for imaginative risk. It’s messy, strange and frequently inspired a film unafraid to sprint down bizarre narrative paths to see what might be waiting at the end. When Pixar leans into that playful unpredictability, the result is this: an off-kilter, big-hearted romp that proves there are still new tricks left in the animation playbook.
Overall: 7.5/10
Movie Reviewer
