Partners and Crime – Zootopia 2

I admit I was a bit surprised when the first Zootopia film from 2016 ended up winning the Oscar for Best Animated Feature. It’s not a bad movie by any means, but it was up against what I felt were far superior candidates in the forms of Moana and Kubo and the Two Strings. It was a shock to be sure, but I still liked the flick a whole lot. It was bright and colorful, with compelling characters, some decent gags, and an intriguingly designed world. It also dared to ask some rather heavy questions for a modern kids movie, including using this literal animal kingdom as a means to explore issues of racism and class. I think, in the end, it was that ambition that put it over the top, and given how much money it made, a sequel was sure to happen, especially given Disney’s leitmotif of banking on established IPs rather than putting any real heft behind original works.

However, Disney sequels have almost always meant diminishing returns. To my mind, only one theatrical follow-up, 1990’s The Rescuers Down Under, actually succeeded in improving on its predecessor, at least from the standpoints of character, animation, and plot. It was also the first ever attempt at a full theatrical release for a second installment. Nowadays, Disney is basically a sequel factory, with the only real benchmarks for success being brand integration and box office returns. In that respect, all of the new installments have been winners, even if the actual elements of the movies were a bit lacking.

So which trends would Zootopia 2 either adhere to or buck entirely? After three weeks in cinemas (yes, I know, I’m WAY behind on this), it’s on pace to rake in more dough than the last entry (I’m just counting domestic; worldwide it’s already made more than a billion dollars), just like all the others. But does the film live up to the original or outdo it? I’d say of the more recent sequels, it comes the closest apart from Frozen 2, but doesn’t quite get there when it’s all said and done. It’s still enjoyable and downright hilarious in places, but you can see the studio notes all over the final product, and there are times where you can feel it collapsing under the weight of its own messaging.

In what turns out to be one of the smartest moves of the entire affair, we pick things only a week after the events of the first film. It may have been nine years for us in the audience, but for our heroes, Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde (Ginnifer Goodwin and Jason Bateman, as strong as ever), they’re still very green as new police officers and partners. This means there’s still plenty of room for the characters to grow, and for their relationship to be defined. I’m sure there are a lot of shippers out there, as well as – I’m guessing – sizeable Rule 34 collections (there’s even a clever early joke about what their kids might look like if they ever, you know, did that), but I like that their dynamic is mostly left ambiguous, bordering on platonic. They do love each other, but as the very best of friends would. Romanticism is only ever hinted at, mostly because of what a true coupling would imply (the film already has references to The Silence of the Lambs and The Shining that kids won’t get; imagine having to explain some literal birds and bees to them), but there’s enough for you to draw your own conclusions rather than being overt about how they feel about one another, other than as professionals and adopted family, which I think is the right balance.

Anyway, the titular city is about to celebrate its 100th anniversary (where have I heard THAT before?), particularly the invention of the climate walls that divide the town and allow all mammals to live in their preferred environments. This was one of the cooler elements of the original film, so it’s interesting to dive into its lore a little bit. A gala is to take place, displaying the journal of the lynx who created the system, celebrated by his descendants: patriarch Milton Lynxley (David Strathairn), elder son and daughter Cattrick and Kitty (real-life couple Macaulay Culkin and Brenda Song), and bungling younger son Pawbert (Andy Samberg). However, the festivities are interrupted with the arrival of Gary (Ke Huy Quan), a pit viper, and the first reptile seen in Zootopia proper since an alleged attack on the Lynxleys a century prior. Gary steals the diary in hopes that it will clear his family name and that he’ll finally get to “go home,” promising Judy that he’s not a bad guy despite the reputation his species has. This convinces Judy to help Gary escape, and with Nick in tow, the pair are considered fugitives and traitors. It’s up to them to discover the truth about Zootopia’s past, all while on the run from their erstwhile colleagues, and at the same time figure out just where they stand with one another as partners and people.

When the film is focused on this stuff, it’s pretty great. Even in voiceover, Goodwin and Bateman have natural chemistry, and it’s genuinely heartwarming to watch their emotions evolve. Judy is assertive and very Type-A, always thirsty to prove herself and thinking little about the consequences of her actions, while Nick is passive and laid back, hesitant to trust, but fiercely protective of Judy because she’s all he’s got (apart from the late Tiny Lister as Nick’s con artist sidekick Finnick; the film is dedicated in his memory). The pair of them learning how to deal with one another on a deeper level is one of the major strengths of this story. Similarly, Gary is a great addition to the cast, with Quan’s voice being perfect for the part of a sympathetic serpent, his natural lisp aiding the performance every step (slither) of the way. There’s real intrigue into how reptiles got separated from the mammals in this world (and why fish and insects are food instead of sentient beings), and the expansion of the first film’s world-building really enhances the experience. This is a world of near-infinite possibilities, and when we take the time to flesh (or scale) them out, it pays dividends, and not just for the corporate bottom line. Hell, I even like the new song Shakira sings as Gazelle. While I’m most definitely NOT a fan of modern pop music, I’ve always dug her.

It’s everywhere else that makes the final product come up a bit short. There are far too many characters in this picture, most of whom only exist for the sake of a lame pun or a celebrity cameo that none of the young viewers will get. For example, two zebra officers, dubbed the “Ze-bros” painfully, are voiced by pro wrestlers Roman Reigns and CM Punk. Who cares? They play basically no role in the story, and their voices are so generic that any random actor could have easily accomplished their menial task. That’s just skimming the surface (seriously, check the cast listing; it’s insane), and it ultimately serves no purpose. Apart from the characters we met in the first movie, there are only four bit players of any consequence: Michelle Gomez (“Missy,” the Master’s female regeneration from Doctor Who) as one of a pair of Scottish razorback cops chasing Judy and Nick, Danny Trejo as a lizard who helps the leads find Gary, Patrick Warburton as the new mayor, a horse action star (why it wasn’t a woman so it could be Mayor Mare I’ll never know), and Fortune Feimster as Nibbles Maplestick, a beaver and conspiracy theorist podcaster who takes Nick and Judy to the Marsh Market, where most water-dwelling animals live alongside reptiles.

This last character just rubbed me the wrong way. I love Fortune Feimster as a comedian, and her voice work here is fine, but we REALLY need to stop making conspiracy theorists into cinematic heroes. This has been a very odd trend in recent years, particularly Brian Tyree Henry’s character in the last two “Monsterverse” movies and the weird kid literally named “Podcast” in the Ghostbusters reboot series. It wouldn’t be so bad if these individuals, with their completely bonkers interpretation of nothing resembling facts, didn’t always turn out to be right. That’s in direct conflict with the real world, where nutjobs with a microphone and a YouTube channel can basically grift the public, make millions, and spur political violence based on nothing but their own insane ramblings. These people don’t deserve to be lauded. It would almost be forgivable here if Nibbles were given anything meaningful or funny to say, but instead we get a conversation with a walrus consisting solely of the word “bub” as if it’s a redneck version of the “Dude!” exchange from BASEketball.

There are other flaws as well. Last time out, there were a fair few jokes and nods towards pop culture that were at times cringeworthy, but for the most part just mild chuckles. Here, though? We turn the reference dial way past 11 and throw in more puns than every Simpsons sign gag combined. It’s overkill for its own sake, and it’s done so often that it honestly begs the question of why the film holds back in other areas. The biggest one for me was the fact that you have Patrick Warburton in this film, and yet not once does he talk to a squirrel and give us a “Squeaky squeak, squeaker” like when he was Kronk in The Emperor’s New Groove. It would actually make sense here. He’s playing an animal and a public official. He could be holding a summit with squirrels and speaking their language as a sign of diplomacy. Opportunity lost.

More importantly, though, the film’s own self-awareness comes dangerously close to being its undoing. It works for the climax when the final twists are revealed, but in the larger meta sense, it falls flat. Continuing the discussion of implicit bias from the first movie, there’s a conversation to be had about gentrification and revisionist history, especially when it serves powerful interests. However, it’s handled in a way that I think is unintentionally botched. For example, the centennial celebration of Zootopia seems to be something of a correction for the absolutely god-awful Wish. However, the central conceit of the plot is that the legend of the city’s founding was fabricated. Disney, do you really want to propose the idea that the last 100 years was built on lies? Did you give that even a cursory second thought? Similarly, the eventual understanding of what happened to reptiles teeters ever so closely to basically making Zootopia itself an apartheid state, and given recent events in the Middle East, maybe that’s not a territory Disney’s equipped to handle. Just sayin’.

So on the whole, does this work? I’d say yes, and better than expected. But you can see where it very easily could have exceeded its forebear, and it just doesn’t bother. Again, only one Disney sequel has ever been better than the original so far, and that was at a time when doing sequels was basically unheard of for the studio. Now it’s the order of the day, and they just never achieve the highs they need to. They’re still enjoyable to watch, but you know there’s a version of Zootopia 2 that’s truly exceptional. In a relatively down year for animation, it still likely has a decent chance to repeat its Oscar success (I’d wager it’s between this and KPop Demon Hunters, with the latter as the betting favorite), but we’re definitely seeing a trend where Disney opts for “good enough” rather than “great,” and that’s disheartening, because all the pieces were there. Nick and Judy are still a dynamic duo in their own right, and this world continues to dazzle, but far too often the affair gets bogged down by meaningless fluff that just reeks of too many cooks.

Grade: B-

Join the conversation in the comments below! What film should I review next? What’s your favorite Disney sequel? Where exactly is the line drawn in this world between citizens and lunch? Let me know! And remember, you can follow me on Twitter (fuck “X”) as well as Bluesky, subscribe to my YouTube channel for even more content, and check out the entire BTRP Media Network at btrpmedia.com!