Originality is a concept that is becoming increasingly more optional as Hollywood lays out their future plans, and there is ultimately very little point in resisting or wishing that the system would change – the industry is simply becoming overrun with sequels, reboots, revivals and remakes, a quartet of terms that have divided audiences and become the source of a lot of complex discourse, all of which could have easily been avoided had there been a focus on producing works that had some semblance of originality to them. None of these concepts are recent, but the over-reliance on them has become far too intimidating of a problem, and the prospects for the future do look bleak, particularly when major studios have now started to simply outright commission shot-by-shot remakes of their classical works, particularly transitioning animated classics to mediocre live-action adaptations. The reasoning by the studios is usually some bizarre statement that they want to introduce these cherished works to a new generation (implying that the originals simply cease to exist), when in reality its purely an attempt to bank on nostalgia and hope that audiences will be more receptive to spending their money on something with which they are familiar. One of the recent entries into this frightening new trend is How to Train Your Dragon – and while I am notoriously critical of these live-action remakes, it is important to note that it is certainly not a one-size-fits-all approach, and that some are certainly going to be better than others. In this case, the decision to take the well-crafted retellings of Cressida Cowell’s iconic viking saga and reconfigure them in live action does seem redundant (especially since the first film in the trilogy is barely over a decade old), but at the very least we find that it does contain some merit, particularly in the fact that Dean DeBlois, who originally wrote and directed the animated trilogy, is onboard in the same roles, ensuring that the same care and attention was taken when crafting this version, which is a far-cry from the originals, but at least attempts to maintain some of the magic and charm that made the trilogy so incredibly successful.

I tend to be extremely critical of remakes in any form, but I’m not inherently opposed to them on principle – they’re never going to be particularly favoured, but there is always the possibility that one will surprise me, and there have certainly been more than a couple. The key to succeeding in this regard is simply to find new ways to build on the original – a shot-for-shot remake is never going to be particularly effective, especially when the source material is freely available (often being included on the very same platform where the newer films tend to premiere), and in order for a remake to be considered even marginally worth our time, it needs to do or say something new. In the case of How to Train Your Dragon, the reasoning is quite clear – this is a story that benefits from a bigger and more expansive scope, and while much more can be done with animation, live-action does often provide a sense of grandeur, especially with these studio-produced films that often rely less on the scope and more on the spectacle. The story is essentially the same, with very few deviations from the original film (outside of some rewriting to tighten the script and make it more cohesive – several live-action remakes tend to become quite lazy when it comes to updating the scripts, believing that audiences won’t notice the difference), but where DeBlois truly succeeds is in finding ways to build on the aesthetic, making it more visually striking and turning a very charming animated adventure film into a fully-formed epic in its own right. He expands on the world of the film quite well, never moving too far from what we are familiar with, but also ensuring that we are not just watching a complete recreation. The colours are understandably more muted and there’s much less elasticity to this film, since the director wanted to maintain some degree of realism, but for the most part, this version of How to Train Your Dragon is quite effective, even when it doesn’t quite live up to the original film and its bolder, more unique vision.

One of the benefits of How to Train Your Dragon is that it contains some very likeable characters, but none that are particularly memorable in the way that we found in a lot of older animated works. This allowed for a bit more flexibility in the casting, since they’re not as consolidated into the culture as some other characters. The primary protagonists were portrayed by Mason Thames and Nico Parker, who take on the roles of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III and Astrid Hofferson, respectively, and they’re both extremely talented and fit perfectly into the roles. Parker in particular feels like someone who we will see ascend to astronomical levels of fame and acclaim in a very short time – she’s already amassed a solid career, and while this may not do much for her in terms of showcasing her dramatic skills, it does prove that she’s nothing short of a star, with a magnetism and charm that will undoubtedly lead to even better opportunities. Thames isn’t a slouch either, but he does have the unenviable task of playing a character who is much less well-defined than the supporting players, essentially being the straight man to the more quirky secondary cast. Gerard Butler reprises his role as Stoick, the gruff Viking chief and the harsh father of the protagonist, and while he delivers the same performance, only this time in physical form, he does get the chance to do more dramatic, subtle acting, something that he has not done as frequently in the last decade. The rest of the cast is solid – Nick Frost replaces Craig Ferguson as the film’s primary comedic relief, and the likes of Peter Serafinowicz and Ruth Codd have small but effective roles, and some of the younger actors are also quite good, the exception being Julian Dennison, who has been shoehorned into the same kind of roles and desperately needs someone to realise that he is more than just this geeky, socially-awkward misfit that he’s been playing for over a decade now. The acting is not particularly important to How to Train Your Dragon, which is more a film about the spectacle than the character-based work, but the cast does exactly what was required and helps bring the film and its core themes together exceptionally well.

Setting aside the more conventional elements, we do find that How to Train Your Dragon is also a film that intends to say something beyond simply the surface-level premise. One of the reasons the original trilogy is so beloved is primarily the fact that there is much more lingering beneath the film’s exterior than we imagine. These are films in which younger viewers encounter conversations that are not always present in other media that they consume – the concept of family, identity, the experiences of being an outcast and the importance of culture are not unique to these films, but they’re certainly bolstered by DeBlois’ careful attention to detail, and his willingness to take Cowell’s lovely books, extracting the core narrative and the themes that accompany them, and then forging his vision. The remake follows the same pattern – everything the director has made so far has been driven by his deep passion for the stories that define these films, and the messages that are conveyed in the process. Bringing this film to life in a different format allows for certain changes in terms of its tone – it’s a much more serious film (although it’s still very funny and has no shortage of humorous moments), and it doesn’t trivialise the more downbeat aspects of the story. It’s not designed to be a hard-hitting social drama, but there are conversations embedded in this story that are far more profound than anything we would normally imagine, and which form the very foundation on which the film is constructed. DeBlois has a strong command of the emotions that govern this film, and while he can’t avoid flirting with overt sentimentality at certain points, its nonetheless quite solid in terms of how it handles the more complex ideas, being as heartwarming and it is touching, something that a lot of live-action remakes seem to forget when trying to capitalise on the popularity of the original works.

It would certainly be foolish to call this version of How to Train Your Dragon the worst of the recent glut of live-action remakes – everything considered, it’s amongst the better entries into this recent trend of taking cherished classics and reworking them into live-action adaptations. It doesn’t add anything new to the story, but it does at least show that there are ways to ensure that these films are at least artistically resonant in some way, rather than simply existing to serve as middling attempts to make a profit. In a year where the Walt Disney Company made an atrocious live-action remake of Lilo & Stitch, which many consider to be DeBlois’ masterpiece, its oddly fitting that he turned in one of the few genuinely good attempts at doing the same, which is entirely the result of his dedication to doing something different, while also maintaining some degree of consistency in the narrative, expanding it where it was required, while also not losing sight of the reasons why so many people have developed such a strong relationship to this material. It’s genuinely very compelling filmmaking that may not be revolutionary (although it is visually very striking, with some of the best cinematography to emerge from these live-action remakes, not to mention great production design and costuming that bring the story to life), but it offers two hours of solid entertainment. This praise should not be viewed as an endorsement for live-action remakes to continue unabated, but considering the industry seems to be intent on seeing this as profitable, we may as well just resign to the reality and simply appreciate the fact that some people tasked with remaking these films still possess a vested interest in the material.