At some point in the last fifteen years, the Walt Disney Company simply seemed to stop caring about originality. This is a far cry from the studio that not only defined the art of mainstream animation, but single-handedly was responsible for nearly a century of entertainment, capturing the attention of generations of viewers. Like any studio, they had their usual ebb and flow in terms of popularity and acclaim, but very few will argue that the Disney Renaissance (defined as the period between the late 1980s and early 2000s) was amongst their best – it certainly was the one that many of us grew up watching. The exact boundaries of the era are up to interpretation, but its generally seen as somewhat universal that Lilo & Stitch was the final entry into this period in their history, and for good reason – it acts as the bridge between eras, having the charm and candour of their earlier works, but also the wit and innovation of the films that were to come (especially considering the crossover between Disney and their partner studio Pixar Animation was becoming much more prominent around this time), seemingly handing the reigns of the studio over to an entirely new generation of both artists and viewers. Yet, for some unfathomable reason, this eventually morphed into a series of live action remakes, which started roughly a decade ago, and has seemingly not abated since, with some of the most beloved (and some may even say sacred) properties proving to be victims of a blatant attempt to capitalise on their popularity. Lilo & Stitch is the most recent victim, with Dean Fleischer Camp (whose Marcel the Shell with Shoes On was a masterful work that combined heart and humour) being enlisted to bring the story of a young Hawaiian girl and her adorable pet alien to life on screen, this time in a mostly bland, dull affair that never once even begins to approach the brilliance of the original, falling flat so consistently, we begin to wonder whether or not this actually impacted the legacy of the original film, which will now forever be associated with this absolute misfire.

In general, I do try to remain as neutral and positive as possible – without some degree of optimism about even the most dismal of works, we can quickly lose hope in the contemporary cinematic landscape, which is unsurprisingly becoming far less original or daring than it was before, as a result of the dreaded trio of terms that signal the decline in innovation in contemporary film: reboots, revivals and remakes, which has overtaken the industry to the point where even the most vapid of sequels feel like a breath of fresh air in a lot of instances. We’ve gotten to the point where they can all be divided into various categories – those which are essentially shot-for-shot remakes, and those which at least attempt to be original in their vision, making certain changes (whether narratively or aesthetically), and it is clear which of the two is more worthwhile. Unfortunately, Lilo & Stitch falls into the former category, but is deluded enough to think that it’s in the latter. The one merit of this film is that it chooses to keep the core themes intact – the “ohana means family” aspect of the original film is by far the most memorable aspect, and its a good sign that Camp chose to retain this element, at least to the point where it is just as important to the plot. The appeal of this story, whereby a family is built from the wreckage of certain traumatic incidents or dangerous scenarios, has clearly resonated with an audience wide enough to appreciate many of its more unconventional elements. We are drawn to these ideas, since many of us know the beauty of finding a friend that truly understands us, and helps us navigate life’s many challenges, which is precisely why Lilo & Stitch has remained so firmly imprinted in the cultural consciousness, something that everyone involved in this remake clearly and decidedly understood when crafting the film.

Unfortunately, keeping the same core message is mostly where the praise for the film stops, since it comes with the stark realisation that this is simply not a film that has anything to say. There is not an ounce of creativity to be found anywhere in this remake of Lilo & Stitch, which is indebted to the original film so much, it loses any opportunity of being even vaguely original. It’s not completely made up of shot-for-shot recreations, but rather makes a few peculiar changes – entire characters are deleted (such as the unforgettable Captain Gantu), whereas others serve seemingly very little purpose, and others being introduced where they simply do not make sense. Nothing in this film seems to work together – Camp is clearly not a filmmaker who had a vision compatible with Disney, since there are two very different films here: the one that the director wanted to make, which broke away from the original in creative ways and presented the possibility to make something special from this already beloved material, and the one that the studio intended to come to fruition, which was to simply copy the original in such a way that it didn’t need to invest in anything other than building on the existing nostalgia in the flimsiest and most ineffective ways imaginable. A remake needs to at least attempt to add something to the legacy of the original film – even if the final product is atrocious, at least it would be able to legitimately say that it tried to be unique. Unfortunately, this version of Lilo & Stitch is nothing more than the most unconvincing, dull recreations, all colour being extinguished, every character replaced by a weak recreation that does nothing other than remind us of the value of the original. It’s deeply unsettling and never offers anything we haven’t already seen done a dozen times before, including by this exact property, which was wonderful as it was in its original form.

Nothing underlines the dissonance between this film and the original more than the cast – while the original Lilo & Stitch was not necessarily defined by the most star-studded cast, every actor delivered stellar work, to the point where its still fondly remembered by many of them, particularly as their introduction to younger viewers, an exceptional feat for an animated film. For the most part, this film is a massive downgrade in every conceivable area of the cast – the leads, Maia Kealoha and Sydney Elizebeth Agudong, are so deeply miscast, we can’t imagine that they were the best candidates. Neither of them has much experience – the former is delivering her debut performance – but even then, we’d at least expect some sense of the “a star is born” moment from either of them, which doesn’t ever happen. These are shrill, unnatural performances without even an ounce of authenticity, and while its not the actors’ fault as they were directed by committee (especially the younger of the two), the mistreatment of these characters, turning them from complex, three-dimensional beings into nothing more than thin archetypes, is truly unforgivable. However, they at least put in the effort – we can’t say the same for some of the reason of the cast, which includes the likes of Zach Galifianakis (who is uncharacteristically quite dour and downbeat in the role of the villain – he seems genuinely annoyed to be appearing in this film, to the point where he doesn’t even attempt an accent or anything even vaguely resembling character work) and Courtney B. Vance, who was only cast over the outcry of replacing the iconic Cobra Bubbles with a different character, who is in turn portrayed by Tia Carrere, who appeared in the original film (and whose presence is the only act of tribute that feels genuine), and ultimately seem to only be doing this for the paycheque. Amy Hill and Billy Magnussen do their best, but there’s only so much that can be done with already one-dimensional characters, making Lilo & Stitch nearly unsalvageable as far as the casting is concerned.

There has recently been some talk about Disney momentarily pausing development on their upcoming live-action remakes, an encouraging sign that this company is willing to set aside the profits and hear the legions of viewers as we demand that they cease resting on their laurels and instead pursue the originality that defined their original vision. It’s a hopelessly bleak scenario to suddenly realise that the studio has even abandoned the act of making sequels, resorting to live-action remakes that are mildly amusing at the best of times, and utterly soulless at the worst. Unfortunately, Lilo & Stitch leans towards the latter, as signalled by both the professional reviews and audience reactions that compare it unfavourable towards the original film – when remaking something, its never ideal to find that the ultimately judgment by the audience at large is essentially to say that it reminded them of the brilliance of the original, impelling them to rewatch that instead of engaging with this newer, more supposedly daring retelling of the same material. We can bring out the trite “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it argument ad nauseum, and we can remark on how the studio is essentially destroying their legacy by making these ham-fisted, dull remakes that offer nothing of value and ultimately just become exercises in futility. Yet, this all requires too much effort to even begin to argue in any direction, none of which this film warrants. It’s uninspiring, dull and frequently quite boring, never amounting to anything particularly memorable and ultimately coming across as a stale, bland attempt at capitalising on past success, and failing miserably in the process. The only way for anyone to find value in this remake of Lilo & Stitch is to simply never have seen the original – and this only signals that we are in the dreadful era where remakes don’t even need to show reverance to their sources, since corporate greed and the loss of originality has eroded much more than any of us expect or are willing to acknowledge.