How To Train Your Dragon (2025) Review: An Emotional, Fantastical Adventure That Fails To Answer The Big Question

I don’t like being cynical and think that the only reason a movie might exist is to capitalize on the popularity of a certain intellectual property – but that means that a certain bar is set when it comes to watching and mentally processing remakes. There can’t be an expectation from the filmmakers that the audience is going to be wholly ignorant of the original, and comparisons are going to be inevitable, so there is an onus on the work to present a reason for existing. That’s especially true for a film like How To Train Your Dragon, which is arriving in theaters just 15 years after the original (and just six years after the end of the trilogy it inspired).

Going into my screening of the new live-action feature, I made a specific point of not revisiting the 2010 movie – which I probably last watched around the time that How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World was released. Without having the franchise-starter fresh in mind, my intention was to see just how much of the new blockbuster would feel new, different and like its own special thing. I gave it as long a leash as I possibly could to present itself as an independent cinematic experience.

The end result is that I walked away from director Dean DeBlois’ second crack at How To Train Your Dragon with a split perspective. On the one hand, the story is as sweet, fun and thematically strong as ever, and anyone who is taking it in for the first time (which will be a lot of people, given its young target demographic) will find a lot to be wowed by and take in emotionally. At the same time, though, as hard as I looked for something to make the film distinctive and necessary as a live-action interpretation of the animated original, I was left wanting.

If you’re familiar with the animated movie, you know the plot here, as nothing is done to alter the narrative – which is based on the book series by Cressida Cowell. Set in the Viking village of Berk, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III (Mason Thames) is the klutzy-but-smart son of local chieftain Stoick The Vast (Gerard Butler), and he has great ambitions to become a dragon slayer, but he is held back by his gracelessness and lack of killer instinct. Everything changes one night, however, when Berk is attacked and Hiccup is able to use one of his inventions to take down a mysterious dragon known as a Night Fury… though nobody is around to see him do it.

As a way of supporting his son before going out on a mission to find where the dragons nest, Stoic enlists his son in dragon-fighting training – where he joins a class with his crush, the brave Astrid (Nico Parker), the geeky Fishlegs (Julian Dennison), the wannabe brute Snotlout (Gabriel Howell) and the twins Ruffnut (Bronwyn James) and Tuffnut (Harry Trevaldwyn). But while Hiccup learns how to battle dragons under the instruction of the blacksmith Gobber (Nick Frost), he is able to simultaneously study and understand the Night Fury he injured. Forming a relationship with the dragon he comes to name Toothless, the young protagonist realizes that the creatures don’t have to be the enemies of humans, but convincing anyone else of that reality is a monumental challenge given past destruction and culturally engrained fear and hatred.

Everything you love about How To Train Your Dragon’s story is definitely still here.

In a vacuum, there is a great deal to love about How To Train Your Dragon. I wish I had written the CinemaBlend review of the 2015 movie, as I could have just copy and pasted my sentiments (I’m kidding, of course). The coming-of-age story and Hiccup’s adventure of self-discovery/hero’s journey are just as effective as ever. What it has to say about tearing down generationally entrenched false assumptions about others is arguably (and tragically) even more relevant now than it was a decade-and-a-half ago, and the dynamics between the main characters remains beautiful and relatable. Most of the personalities in the supporting cast are one dimensional, but just about any child and parent can see themselves in the clashing personalities of Hiccup and Stoic, and every pet-lover will understand the brilliant and adorable connection between Hiccup and Toothless.

There is a surprising and well-done translation of the animated design – with the great highlight being the dragons.

That same consistency can be found in the movie aesthetically, as a medium change from live-action doesn’t prevent a translation of the very specific style, as cartoony elements come to life as originally envisioned – from the extreme beardy burliness of Stoic (who could really only be portrayed by Gerard Butler) to Gobber’s swappable left hand. One might think that it would be more complicated when it comes to the creature design, but the reality is that a matching approach is taken.

The dragon types with which fans have become familiar are realized beautifully by How To Train Your Dragon’s visual effects artists, as their signatures are all directly translated but with more lifelike texture and weight. It can also be said that the blend of the live-action human characters and CGI beasts is seamless – a tribute to the VFX wizards in combination with smart direction and impressive performances. Simply put, the film doesn’t work if the bond between Hiccup and Toothless doesn’t click, but that’s a hurdle that the remake admirably clears.

Being told in live-action doesn’t add anything to the How To Train Your Dragon experience.

But does 2025’s How To Train Your Dragon accomplish anything that isn’t in 2015’s How To Train Your Dragon? I suppose there is a kind of extra thrill during the sequences where the audience is put in the perspective of Hiccup riding on his dangerous pet as he flies through gorges and dives alongside cliffs and mountain peaks – as having realistic looking rocks and water makes the experience all the more real. But it’s simply not enough to answer the blunt question of, “Why did this film need to be remade?” Fun and competently made as the movie may be, that lacking is a permanent and undeniable dint.

I keep envisioning a not-too-distant future where both titles are going to be featured right next to each other in a streaming service library and imagining a would-be viewer’s infinite indecision about which one to watch. Both offer the same level of entertainment, so it’s really just a coin flip – and it makes you question why there is even an option at all. As much as there is to like an appreciate, there is also an undeniable hollowness.