For the first time ever, DreamWorks has decided to join the increasingly cursed crusade of turning beloved animated classics into live-action remakes — a battlefield so far dominated by Disney, who’ve had a wildly inconsistent track record of either printing money or generating collective eye-rolls.

But here’s the shocking twist: DreamWorks might’ve just cracked it on their first try. Their live-action take on How to Train Your Dragon doesn’t just avoid the usual adaptation pitfalls — it soars. It’s not just a shot-for-shot remake in prettier packaging; it’s an actual, honest-to-Odin improvement that doubles as a proper summer blockbuster. Yes, it’s that good.

Now, if you’ve been alive at any point since 2010, you probably already know the story: Hiccup is a scrawny Viking kid in a village that treats dragon-slaying like a national sport. During a raid, he injures a dragon, but when it comes time to finish the job, he bottles it — and ends up befriending the very creature he was meant to kill. The dragon, Toothless, turns out to be more loyal than any Viking, setting the stage for a heartwarming tale of friendship, father issues, and fire-breathing existential crises.

So yes, the plot’s unchanged — but the glow-up is real. Visually, this thing is absolutely stunning. The kind of movie where you pause, forget to blink, and suddenly start wondering if dragons were maybe real all along.

Same Story, Shinier Package—& That’s a Good Thing

Let’s get one thing straight: this isn’t some radical reimagining. How to Train Your Dragon 2025 follows the same plot beats as the 2010 animated original, almost religiously. It’s not a shot-for-shot remake, but it’s close enough that if you’ve seen the original, you’ll know exactly where you are at all times. The runtime’s been padded out by about 27 minutes, mostly with small flourishes—some extra dialogue here, a bit more brooding there—but it never strays far from the well-worn flight path. And honestly? That’s exactly why it works.

The story was already brilliant. It didn’t need fixing, it just needed a new coat of paint—and what a coat it is. This thing looks incredible. Every frame is rich with detail, lit like a painting, and packed with enough spectacle to make even the grumpiest critic go “alright, fair play.”

But visuals alone don’t save a remake. What does save it is getting the right people behind the camera—and DreamWorks did just that. Dean DeBlois, the bloke who wrote and directed the original trilogy, is back. And unlike other filmmakers who return for a remake just to phone it in and collect the cheque, DeBlois actually gives a damn. You can feel it in every scene. He’s not trying to reinvent the wheel—he’s just making sure it spins as smoothly as possible in live-action.

The film is both a love letter to the original and a high-octane summer blockbuster. It delivers the same emotional gut punches, the same sense of wonder, and the same airborne adrenaline. DeBlois knows exactly what to preserve and what to polish. It’s almost annoying how well it works, considering how many other live-action remakes have faceplanted into the uncanny valley.

Part of that success comes down to the people he brought along for the ride. Composer John Powell returns, and the moment his score kicks in over the studio logo, you’re instantly back in Berk. It’s not nostalgia—it’s muscle memory. Meanwhile, Bill Pope—yes, the Bill Pope of The Matrix and Spider-Man 2 fame—handles the cinematography, bringing a level of visual craftsmanship that makes the film feel cinematic in a way most remakes don’t.

Berk looks real now. Hiccup’s workshop is warm and cluttered, the vistas are breathtaking, and the flying scenes? Good lord. If you’ve got an IMAX nearby, go. It’s the closest you’ll get to dragon flight without a very dangerous VR headset and a strong stomach.

And then there’s Toothless—adorable, expressive, and somehow still cartoonish in all the right ways. The visual effects crew walked a tightrope here. They had to make him look “realistic” enough to live in this world without losing what made him special in the first place. The result? He’s a hyper-detailed plush toy with jet engines for wings—and it works. He’s still Toothless. Still a little menace. Still your favourite dragon.

This Cast Shouldn’t Work This Well—But It Does

I’m not exaggerating when I say the How to Train Your Dragon cast is weirdly good. Like, suspiciously good. Some of the performances are so eerily close to their animated counterparts that I half expected the film to glitch and turn into a cartoon halfway through. Gabriel Howell as Snotlout is especially uncanny—it’s like someone shoved Jonah Hill’s vocal cords into a 20-something’s body and told him to go wild. It straddles the line between tribute and possession.

But the entire young cast holds their own. That said, the real weight of the movie rests squarely on Mason Thames’ scrawny Viking shoulders—and he absolutely nails it. He’s younger than Jay Baruchel was when he voiced Hiccup, and that actually helps. While Baruchel gave us a more sarcastic, teen-on-the-edge-of-20 Hiccup, Thames plays him as a true youth: awkward, idealistic, and prone to charging headfirst into dumb ideas. It makes him more believable as a kid trying to prove himself in a village full of meatheads and axes.

And he’s funny, too. Like, actually funny—not in a Marvel-quippy kind of way, but in a properly physical, borderline slapstick way. That fish scene with Toothless—you know the one—had me grimacing and laughing at the same time. It’s gross, it’s goofy, and somehow, it works even better in live-action than in animation. That was the moment I realised, “Oh God… this remake actually knows what it’s doing.”

Now, onto the grown-ups. Nick Frost steps in as Gobber, taking over from Craig Ferguson. He’s… fine. Serviceable. There. It’s not bad, but it’s not standout either—it just exists in the background, waving a hammer and delivering exposition. Thankfully, that’s more than made up for by Gerard Butler, who returns as Stoick like a war-hardened king returning to his throne.

Butler’s performance is exactly what this film needed—loud, gruff, deeply Scottish, and surprisingly emotional when it counts. The costume department clearly went feral in the best way, giving him the visual heft to match his voice. He chews the scenery when required, but never so much that it breaks the tone. It’s big, bold, and strangely moving. In short: Butler got the memo. He read it. Then he shouted it.

And here’s the kicker—everyone in this cast is on the same wavelength. From the leads to the random Viking who probably gets eaten by a dragon in the first 10 minutes, they all play it just slightly exaggerated, like they know they’re in a fantasy world but are trying to keep one foot grounded in reality. That balancing act is thanks to Dean DeBlois, once again proving he’s the glue holding this chaos together. He knows his cast doesn’t have to act like they’re in a BBC period drama just because there are real faces on screen now. And that freedom makes everything feel more alive—more fun.

I Hate Live-Action Remakes. I Also Loved This One. Damn It.

Even days after my screening, I’m still sitting here wondering: how the hell did this work so well? I’m not a fan of this current obsession with turning beloved animated films into live-action, mostly because it reeks of Hollywood trying to prove that animation is somehow lesser. As if slapping a real actor in front of a green screen suddenly makes a story more “legit.” Newsflash: if your “live-action” film is 80% CGI, congratulations, you’ve just made another animated movie with extra steps. But I digress.

The original How to Train Your Dragon is a near-flawless film. It didn’t need a remake. Nobody asked for one. And yet… here we are, and I’ve got to admit: I had an amazing time. Watching this on the big screen, surrounded by an audience that was clearly eating it up, was one of the most genuinely enjoyable cinema experiences I’ve had in ages.

No, this film hasn’t converted me into a blind supporter of the live-action remake movement. You can keep your hyper-realistic lions with dead eyes, thanks. But this film? This one earned its wings. And if the sequel ends up flying even half as high, I’ll be first in line.

Final Score: 90/100

How to Train Your Dragon hits Malaysian theatres on 12 June 2025.