09 Jun REVIEW – ‘How to Train Your Dragon’ plays it safe but soars more than it falters
It was always going to be a risky flight. The 2010 animated gem How to Train Your Dragon remains one of DreamWorks’ most beloved films: visually stunning, emotionally rich, and powered by the indelible bond between a misfit Viking and a misunderstood dragon. It sparked a trilogy, multiple spinoffs, and a passionate fanbase that had every reason to be sceptical when a live-action remake was greenlit.
And yet, here we are in 2025, with writer/director Dean DeBlois returning to reimagine his own material through a fresh, flesh-and-blood lens. The result is a film that works more often than it doesn’t, occasionally recapturing the magic of the original but never fully shaking off the shadow it flies beneath. Is it merely a lazy cash-in where DreamWorks is following Disney’s lead of reworking its animated roster into easy box office returns? Eh, yes and no.
DeBlois doesn’t radically reinvent the story, but he brings a reverent sensibility to this version, choosing to stay close to the original’s spine while tweaking the tone and aesthetic for a slightly older-skewing audience. The move to live-action lends the film a newfound sense of tactility. The dragon-riding sequences feel wind-whipped and immediate. The Viking village of Berk has a grimier, more grounded texture. And the characters, now portrayed by a young but capable ensemble, bring fresh shades to familiar arcs. It doesn’t always glide gracefully, but when How to Train Your Dragon soars, it’s hard not to be swept up in the flight path.
The film once again centres on Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III (Mason Thames), the brainy, awkward teenage son of Stoick the Vast (Gerard Butler, reprising his role), the formidable chief of the Viking island of Berk. Berk is a village under siege, constantly defending itself from dragon attacks, with a culture built around slaying the creatures on sight. Hiccup, slight and unathletic, is desperate to prove himself to his father and his peers, but he doesn’t quite fit the brutal mould of a traditional dragon-slayer. In an effort to finally belong, he invents a contraption that manages to bring down the elusive Night Fury, the rarest and most feared species of dragon. But when Hiccup ventures into the forest to kill his injured prize, he finds he can’t go through with it. Instead, he frees the dragon, and so begins one of the most endearing interspecies friendships in recent cinema history.
Naming the dragon Toothless, Hiccup starts secretly spending time with his new companion, slowly learning about dragon behaviour and realising that the creatures are far more intelligent and emotional than anyone in Berk believes. At the same time, Hiccup begins to apply what he’s learned to his dragon-training class, impressing his sceptical peers, including the fierce and competitive Astrid (Nico Parker). But as Hiccup and Toothless grow closer, the boy finds himself torn between the traditions of his people and the truth he now knows: that the dragons aren’t enemies, but misunderstood creatures forced into violence by fear and oppression. Inevitably, the lies catch up with him, and Hiccup must make a choice that could change his world forever.
Visually, the live-action remake is frequently breathtaking. Bill Pope’s cinematography bathes the film in a naturalistic glow that replaces the candy-coloured sheen of the original with something more rugged and elemental. The skies over Berk are vast and moody, often streaked with mist or fractured sunlight. When Hiccup and Toothless take flight, the camera soars alongside them, capturing moments of sheer beauty as the dragon cuts through the clouds or spirals above a sunlit coastline. The visual effects team deserves special praise for the design and rendering of Toothless, who remains as expressive and lovable as ever, even when rendered in photorealistic textures. His catlike head tilts, doglike tail wags, and wide, searching eyes all survive the transition intact, making him once again the film’s beating heart.
Rising star Thames makes for a convincingly awkward Hiccup. He brings a lived-in sense of insecurity to the role, but also a growing maturity as the story progresses. Thames doesn’t quite have the same quirkily charming voice inflections that Jay Baruchel gave the animated incarnation of Hiccup, but he captures the essence of the character: smart, clumsy, brave when it matters, and his chemistry with the digital Toothless is remarkably strong. Their silent bonding sequences are some of the most effective in the film, anchored by delicate performance choices that rarely overplay the sentiment.
Parker is excellent as Astrid, offering a tougher, more emotionally layered take on the character. Where the original leaned a little too heavily on the “cool girl foil” trope, Parker’s Astrid feels more like a real person, grappling with her own sense of worth and purpose. She’s ambitious and proud, but not cruel, and her gradual respect for Hiccup is well earned. Her scenes with Thames have a low-key sweetness, hinting at young romance without ever letting it overtake the story’s central bond between boy and dragon. And, yes, there is an explanation for how someone of mixed-race ethnicity has found themselves in the traditionally white world of the Vikings, so please stop clutching your pearls.
Wisely returning as Stoick, Butler is perhaps the smartest casting decision of the entire enterprise. He slides back into the role with ease, his gravelly voice and towering physicality once again embodying the weight of fatherly expectation and warrior tradition. His scenes with Thames have added emotional heft this time around, thanks in part to the actors’ physical presence and the way DeBlois stages their interactions in enclosed, often shadowy interiors. The arc of father and son learning to see each other more clearly remains deeply moving and Butler excels here.
Also worth mentioning is Julian Dennison as Fishlegs, who injects some warmth and comic relief without slipping into caricature, and Gabriel Howell as Snotlout, who leans into the brash egotism of the role while still feeling grounded. The supporting teens are a bit less memorable overall than their animated counterparts, but they serve their function well, helping to round out the world of Berk without pulling focus from the main story.
Composer John Powell returns to rework his legendary score, and the results are predictably stirring. While nothing can quite match the jaw-dropping magic of the original’s “Test Drive” or “Romantic Flight” cues, Powell smartly opts to reorchestrate rather than radically overhaul. Familiar themes resurface in new arrangements, and the film’s emotional climaxes are buoyed by sweeping strings and Nordic percussion that give the adventure an epic scale. The sound design, too, is crisp and immersive, especially during dragon battles or quieter moments in the forest.
Still, not everything in this remake works. The tone is occasionally caught between two worlds, unsure if it wants to be a grounded fantasy epic or a more whimsical coming-of-age tale. Some of the darker elements, such as a sequence involving dragon traps and the fiery rise of the film’s main antagonist, the Titan Red Death, feel slightly too intense for younger viewers, while other scenes retain a cartoonish edge that might strike older audiences as too broad. It’s a difficult tonal tightrope, and while the film mostly balances it, there are a few stumbles along the way.
There’s also the unavoidable question of necessity. While the film is clearly made with care and genuine affection for the source material, it doesn’t reinvent the story or explore new corners of the world in any meaningful way. It follows the same narrative beats as the original, sometimes shot for shot, and occasionally struggles to justify its own existence beyond the technical showcase. For viewers unfamiliar with the 2010 film, this will likely matter less, but for fans of the original, the remake might feel less essential than reverent.
That said, what How to Train Your Dragon does best is remind us why the story resonated in the first place. The friendship between Hiccup and Toothless is still powerful, and its lessons about empathy, communication, and defying inherited hate feel as urgent now as they did fifteen years ago. DeBlois has crafted a retelling that’s respectful without being cynical, emotional without being saccharine, and visually ambitious without being soulless. There’s an earnestness baked into the film’s DNA that’s impossible to dismiss.
Some of the film’s finest moments are also its quietest. A sequence where Hiccup reaches out his hand to Toothless, holding it still until the dragon chooses to trust him, still works as an emotional crescendo. So too does a late-film scene of mutual sacrifice, in which the human and dragon bond is tested in fire and fury. These moments don’t just work because of nostalgia, they land because the performances, the effects, and the direction all align in service of something sincere.
As far as live-action remakes go, this is among the stronger entries in the genre. It avoids the soulless, shot-for-shot mimicry of something like The Lion King, while also resisting the temptation to over-modernise or deconstruct the source material. The changes here are largely tonal and visual, but they’re enough to give the film its own identity, however modest. And while it might not become a new classic in its own right, it stands as a testament to the enduring strength of this story and the universal appeal of a boy and his dragon.
In the end, How to Train Your Dragon soars more than it falters. It can’t quite replicate the lightning-in-a-bottle magic of its animated predecessor, but it doesn’t try to replace it either. Instead, it flies alongside, offering a new view of familiar skies, anchored by strong performances, dazzling visuals, and a deep well of heart. For longtime fans, it’s a return visit worth taking, even if it all feels very familiar. For newcomers, it’s a worthy place to begin. And for everyone in between, it’s a reminder that the best stories about trust, love, and courage never really age. They just take on new wings.
Distributor: Universal Pictures
Cast: Mason Thames, Nico Parker, Gerard Butler, Nick Frost, Julian Dennison, Gabriel Howell, Bronwyn James, Harry Trevaldwyn, Ruth Codd, Peter Serafinowicz, Murray McArthur
Director: Dean DeBlois
Producers: Marc Platt, Dean DeBlois, Adam Siegel
Screenplay: Dean DeBlois
Cinematography: Bill Pope
Production Design:
Costume Design:
Editor: Wyatt Smith
Music: John Powell
Running Time: 125 minutes
Release Date: 12th June 2025 (Australia)