Ferdinand

How do you turn a five-minute classic short story into a feature film without losing its core essence? "Ferdinand" tries to answer that question with a mix of visual charm and divisive narrative choices. If you've ever felt pressured to fit into a mold that wasn't meant for you, this story will definitely resonate. But does the movie's execution actually live up to the greatness of the original message? Get ready to unpack the ups and downs of an animated movie that entertains and touches your heart, but also stumbles on its own ambition to please everyone. Visually speaking, the movie carries Carlos Saldanha's undeniable and colorful signature. The rural Spanish landscapes are painted with warm, earthy tones that contrast beautifully with the vibrant red of Ferdinand's flowers. The character design is round and friendly, perfectly tailored for kids. However, I feel like the animation, while well done, plays it a bit too safe. When you compare it to Pixar's hyper-realistic textures or the groundbreaking styles popping up around the same time in movies like Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, Ferdinand's look feels too conservative—pretty, but a little generic. Where the movie really hits the bullseye is with its main character. Casting John Cena (for the original voice acting) was a stroke of genius. The meta-joke of having a massive pro wrestler voicing a giant bull who hates fighting adds a delightful layer to the story. Cena brings a genuine vulnerability and sweetness that makes us root for Ferdinand right from the start. It’s his journey—trying to stay true to his gentle nature in a world that demands aggression—that grounds the movie and keeps it from going off the rails. How do you stretch such a quick children's read into a nearly two-hour movie? The studio's workaround—fleshing out the protagonist's backstory and adding subplots—is hit or miss. The first act works well in setting up Ferdinand's childhood and building empathy. But the second act definitely drags. The pacing drops hard, and the plot seems to spin its wheels, making up minor conflicts that don't add anything to the main story just to justify a feature-length runtime. If Ferdinand is the best part, the added supporting cast is where the movie struggles the most. Characters like Lupe the goat (voiced by Kate McKinnon in a way that borders on exhausting) and the trio of hedgehogs really divide opinions. For me, they cross the line from charismatic to just plain annoying. You get the distinct feeling they were drawn up in a corporate marketing meeting just to sell plush toys and launch spin-offs. They suck up precious screen time that should have been spent entirely on the bull's inner struggles. Looking at the movie's structure, it feels like the director took the path of least resistance. The script leans way too hard on the old "misfit proves their worth" trope. In an attempt to modernize the story, the movie relies on repetitive slapstick humor and jokes that take you right out of the moment. The peak of this lazy writing is, without a doubt, the long "dance battle" between the bulls and the German horses. It’s pure cringe, coming off as a desperate, dated, and uninspired attempt by the studio to manufacture an instant viral meme. Another really mediocre and problematic aspect of the movie is its struggle to handle the heavy, real-world themes that ground it: bullfighting and the slaughterhouse. There’s a clear clash in tone. When the characters end up at the slaughterhouse (the "meat factory"), the movie suddenly gets very dark—almost terrifying for younger kids—creating a heavily tense vibe. On the flip side, the actual cruelty of bullfighting in the arena feels way too sanitized. This hesitation to either fully embrace the seriousness of the message or just soften it completely makes the movie feel indecisive, lacking the emotional depth and mastery you’d expect from more mature scripts. All in all, "Ferdinand" is an average experience that shines when delivering a deeply valuable message about self-acceptance, respecting differences, and non-violence. But it ends up shooting itself in the foot with commercial clichés, exhausting side characters, and hit-or-miss humor. Even though it lacks the sophistication and boldness of today's animation masterpieces, the undeniable sweetness and good intentions of its lead character manage to hold everything together. Yes, it’s a flawed piece of entertainment, but it has a huge heart. Because of that, I highly recommend watching it with an open mind and seeing for yourself: dive into Ferdinand's flowery pastures and decide if the charm of this timeless message makes up for the creative stumbles in the arena.