Multiple film scores can make me ascend to heaven, but there is none like that of 2010’s How to Train Your Dragon (HTTYD), one of the best animated films in existence.
Composed by virtuoso John Powell, HTTYD’s score contains some of my favorite songs ever: “Forbidden Friendship,” “Test Drive,” and “Romantic Flight.” These songs feel like poems in musical form, allowing me to visualize flying above the clouds on my own dragon. As one of my favorite films of all time, HTTYD defined my childhood and is a certified comfort movie for me today.
As such, one can imagine my skepticism when a live-action adaptation was announced. Nowadays, live-action adaptations are notoriously awful, mostly receiving little positive reception among critics and audiences. Either the adaptation doesn’t actually adapt any part of the source material and simply hits “Copy + Paste” in live-action format, or the adaptations made become a disservice to the original story.
For this live-action adaptation, it was nearly a scene-for-scene remake. On the Isle of Berk, a shy 15-year-old Viking named Hiccup (Mason Thames) must endure a rite of passage for all Berkians: he must kill a dragon to prove himself. Hiccup’s thin frame and odd sense of humor make him an outcast, despite being the son of the chief, Stoick the Vast (Gerard Butler). Motivated to earn his place and to impress his crush, Astrid (Nico Parker), he successfully downs a dragon—a Night Fury, the most feared dragon of all. However, instead of killing it, he befriends the Night Fury, naming him Toothless. Going against the wishes of his people, Hiccup must grapple with his two worlds.
Now, I can’t say whether I was disappointed or relieved when the film concluded on premiere day. It was what I expected: a predictable, no-risk remake that didn’t add anything revolutionary to the HTTYD universe, but it also didn’t offend the perfection of the original.
For one, the visual effects were spectacular. In a world where dragons are omnipresent, it was paramount that the creatures looked realistic and mythical at the same time. In particular, Toothless was rendered wonderfully, completed with a mix of animatronics and CGI. His trademark playful charm still shone through while feeling slightly more alive than in 2010.
With Toothless’s near-perfect execution, Hiccup had to have the similar awkwardness and vulnerability that makes them so compatible—and Thames did exactly that. While there were moments throughout the film where I noted his speech felt rushed and a touch bland, Thames delivered a believable Hiccup. His struggles were increasingly complex in the real-world setting, signified further through Thames’s anxious body language and powerful monologues.
On par with Thames’s acting ability, Parker also conveyed Astrid’s fire and confidence well, while holding a nuance of emotional intelligence that grew as she became closer to Hiccup. I only wish that Astrid’s iconic opening scene from the original (an explosion setting off behind her, giving her an uncanny glow) was treated with the same quality: Parker was introduced with a measly smoke backdrop that obscured her features in the remake.
Backing up the actors’ talent was the score, which didn’t decrease in quality in the 15 years since it was released. When “This is Berk” played during the opening credits, I cried. With all the original themes ringing true and orchestration expanding throughout each song, John Powell cemented his masterstroke in composing.
The plot was as powerful as ever, with Stoick and Hiccup’s father-son dynamic remaining the heart of the story. Butler, who was also the voice for Stoick in the original, sold every single moment—whether arguing with Hiccup or leading the Vikings to war, he carried a gravitas and fondness for his people that couldn’t have been more spot on.
Overall, the flying sequences were magical, the score gave me chills, and the breathtaking familiarity made me leave the theater with a smile. While the animated version was undeniably better, I was still satisfied with the live-action result.
Although it’s clear that HTTYD (2025) was filmed with the purpose of commercial success, director Dean DeBlois didn’t let the story cripple as Disney did with Lilo and Stitch (2025). Instead, the live-action remained heartwarming and impactful, introducing the essential story to new audiences and proving that live-action remakes can be good, if not great.
