MOVIE REVIEW: How to Train Your Dragon (2025)

A visually stunning remake that recaptures the magic— even if it doesn’t rewrite the story

In the realm of cinematic reboots, there’s a fine line between “heartfelt homage” and “unnecessary remake.” It’s a balance rarely achieved, often attempted, and frequently regretted. So when Universal and DreamWorks set their sights on transforming 2010’s animated How to Train Your Dragon into a live-action spectacle, the world collectively tightened its grip on nostalgia and braced for impact.

The result? Surprisingly—this dragon still flies.

Helmed once again by Dean DeBlois, the creative force behind the original animated trilogy, this live-action adaptation doesn't attempt to reinvent the wheel. Instead, it crafts a nearly beat-for-beat retelling of the first film, only this time with flesh, blood, and photorealistic dragon scales. That decision alone will likely divide audiences—but it also delivers one of the most visually stunning family adventures of the decade.

At the heart of this new iteration is Mason Thames as Hiccup, the teenage blacksmith’s apprentice-turned-dragon-whisperer. Thames has the unenviable task of making the role his own while living in the shadow of Jay Baruchel’s iconic voice performance. To his credit, he nails the awkward charm, wry humour, and emotional vulnerability that define Hiccup’s journey from outcast to hero. There’s a restrained intensity to Thames that makes his internal conflict feel authentic without ever becoming melodramatic.

Nico Parker, meanwhile, brings a grounded warmth to Astrid, Hiccup’s would-be rival and eventual ally. Their chemistry is understated but real, growing organically over the film rather than being forced by romantic shorthand. Parker’s Astrid is sharp, capable, and far more than just the “tough girl” archetype—though one could argue the screenplay still leaves her a little underserved in the shadow of Hiccup’s hero’s journey.

The real emotional anchor, however, comes courtesy of Gerard Butler, returning to the role of Stoick the Vast, Hiccup’s father and the leader of the Viking village of Berk. It’s not often you see an actor reprise a voice role in live-action, but Butler’s transition is seamless. He wears Stoick’s weariness like a second skin, embodying a father torn between tradition and love, discipline and fear. His scenes with Thames offer the kind of dramatic weight that many live-action reboots sorely lack.

But let’s be honest: most viewers are here for Toothless.

And they won’t be disappointed. The Night Fury’s redesign is nothing short of spectacular. Crafted with meticulous CGI, Toothless is expressive, sleek, and oddly adorable—retaining his cat-like curiosity and comedic timing, while feeling like a creature that could realistically exist in the world. His mannerisms are faithful to the animated version but now enhanced with subtlety that only photo-realism can offer: the way he flinches at fire, the cautious tilt of his head, the moments of eye contact that say more than a page of dialogue ever could.

The flight sequences between Hiccup and Toothless are breathtaking—quite literally. Sweeping shots of wind-swept cliffs, sun-dappled ocean vistas, and sky-chasing dragon aerobatics are among the best aerial scenes since Top Gun: Maverick. These sequences are where the film truly takes flight, both metaphorically and literally. You can almost feel the wind in your face, the thrill of defying gravity, and the unspoken trust between boy and beast.

What makes this film sing—and also, paradoxically, what holds it back—is its faithfulness. It follows the original story structure almost religiously: Hiccup’s dragon-hunting blunder, his secret friendship with Toothless, the training arena humiliation, the heartbreaking reveal to Stoick, the final battle with the monstrous Red Death. It’s all here, note for note, beat for beat. If you’ve seen the animated version, you’ll know exactly what’s coming—and when.

For newcomers, that’s no issue. The story remains a timeless parable about empathy, courage, and rewriting your own destiny. But for returning fans, especially those who watched the original until the Blu-ray gave out, it raises the question: was this remake strictly necessary?

This is where the debate gets murky. On the one hand, the live-action version doesn't reinvent the wheel. It doesn't dig deeper into Viking lore or expand the world in meaningful new directions. It doesn’t surprise you, challenge you, or twist your expectations. It simply recreates, albeit with reverence and high production value, what we’ve already seen.

But—and here’s the counterpoint—it does so beautifully.

In an age of soulless, algorithmic blockbusters and reboots with the emotional depth of soggy toast, How to Train Your Dragon (2025) at least remembers what made its story matter in the first place. It brings back the wonder, the tenderness, and the high-stakes thrill of a boy learning to see the world through the eyes of his supposed enemy. That message, as simple as it sounds, is more relevant now than ever.

The film isn’t perfect. Some of the supporting characters, like Gobber (played here by Nick Frost), Snotlout, Fishlegs, and the chaotic twin duo Ruffnut and Tuffnut, don’t get much screen time or character development. They’re functional, funny, but nowhere near as vibrant as their animated counterparts. The humour, too, is slightly more subdued—toned down from the zany slapstick of the original in favour of a more grounded tone. Some may miss that anarchic energy; others might find it refreshingly mature.

There’s also the matter of emotional pacing. The final act, while still satisfying, feels slightly rushed compared to the original. Hiccup’s injury and the reconciliation between him and his father lack some of the quiet devastation that made the 2010 ending linger long after the credits rolled.

Still, these are quibbles. The film as a whole remains a strong, visually rich, emotionally honest piece of storytelling. It’s not better than the original—but it’s not trying to be. It’s trying to honour it. And in that sense, it succeeds with flying (dragon) colours.

So no, this remake doesn’t justify its existence by necessity. But it does earn its place by heart. And sometimes, that’s enough.

Final Rating: ★★★★ out of 5