The 2025 Smurfs reboot, directed by Chris Miller, arrives with a clear mission: to breathe new life into a beloved franchise while introducing the little blue icons to a generation raised on Encanto and The Super Mario Bros. Movie. It’s a colorful, good-natured attempt that wears its heart on its sleeve. Backed by an A-list voice cast, Rihanna as Smurfette, John Goodman as Papa Smurf, and Natasha Lyonne, Sandra Oh, and Nick Offerman rounding out the ensemble, the film aims to balance nostalgia and modern energy. The result isn’t perfect, but it’s far from the disaster skeptics might have feared. Miller and his team deliver a lively, affectionate family film that may not redefine animation, yet succeeds in reminding us why the Smurfs have endured for over six decades.
The story centers on Smurfette, who takes charge when Papa Smurf is kidnapped by the bumbling yet oddly sympathetic wizard Gargamel and his new accomplice Razamel. Her quest sends the Smurfs beyond their familiar mushroom village and into a sprawling human world bursting with magic, music, and mayhem. The screenplay keeps things moving briskly, blending slapstick humor with a surprisingly sincere exploration of leadership and self-worth. Smurfette’s arc, learning to define herself beyond the labels others give her, is simple but effective, bolstered by Rihanna’s warm, grounded vocal performance. Unlike earlier films that relied heavily on fish-out-of-water gags, this version leans more into adventure storytelling and emotional resonance, making it feel closer to a classic fantasy quest than a corporate cash-in.
Visually, Smurfs (2025) is more impressive than it has any right to be. The animation team creates a lush, almost storybook world that shifts between painterly fantasy and modern CGI sheen without losing cohesion. There’s real artistry in the details, the way sunlight filters through Smurf Village’s leaves, or how Gargamel’s spells leave streaks of shimmering color that feel both magical and tactile. A few set pieces, like a chase through an oversized toy store and a sequence inside a collapsing magic mirror, stand out as imaginative high points. The color palette bursts with warmth and energy, giving the film a timeless storybook glow. Chris Miller’s direction, best known from Puss in Boots and Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, brings kinetic energy to the visuals without overwhelming them.
The soundtrack also adds a significant lift. Rihanna contributes several original songs, the standout being “Friend of Mine,” a soaring pop anthem that doubles as the film’s emotional centerpiece. The music blends seamlessly into the narrative, giving the film a modern rhythm without succumbing to the dated pop montage syndrome that plagued earlier animated reboots. The score, by composer Henry Jackman, alternates between lush orchestration and bouncy synth flourishes, bridging nostalgia and novelty. This balance of old and new runs throughout the production; it’s clear the creative team wanted to respect the Smurfs’ roots while speaking to today’s audiences.
Where the film occasionally falters is in pacing and structure. At times, Smurfs feels like it’s juggling too many ideas, new characters, side plots, and callbacks to earlier installments. The inclusion of No-Name Smurf, a comic relief character voiced by James Corden, adds levity but sometimes pulls focus from the central story. Similarly, while Gargamel’s updated characterization as a washed-up magician trying to reclaim fame is amusing, it sometimes undercuts the emotional weight of Smurfette’s journey (that was a sentence I just wrote). Still, even when the storytelling wobbles, the film’s sincerity keeps it afloat. There’s an earnestness here that recalls the best of family animation: a belief that kindness and courage can still be compelling cinematic forces.
What’s most refreshing about this reboot is its attitude. Rather than leaning too hard on irony or self-awareness, the film embraces the wholesome optimism that defined the original comics and cartoons. The humor is broad but good-natured, more chuckles than belly laughs, but consistent enough to keep younger viewers engaged. The voice performances shine throughout: Goodman’s Papa Smurf radiates warmth, Offerman adds gruff charm, and Sandra Oh’s take on Brainy Smurf provides a clever mix of intellect and heart. The chemistry among the cast gives the film a sense of genuine camaraderie, making the Smurf Village feel like a living, breathing community rather than a nostalgic gimmick.
Thematically, Smurfs has more on its mind than one might expect. Beneath the bright surface, it’s a story about identity and community, about how belonging doesn’t mean losing individuality. Smurfette’s struggle to define herself outside of her origins echoes modern conversations about autonomy and purpose, though handled gently enough for children to understand. The film also sprinkles in messages about creativity, teamwork, and environmental stewardship, without feeling preachy. These elements may not break new ground, but they lend the movie a sense of sincerity and emotional grounding often missing from franchise revivals.
As a cinematic experience, the 2025 Smurfs lands squarely between reinvention and homage. Longtime fans may miss some of the quirkier humor of the old Peyo comics, but they’ll likely appreciate the respect shown to the characters and world-building. For newcomers, it’s an accessible gateway, bright, musical, and lively enough to entertain while hinting at deeper roots. It’s also a marked improvement over the earlier live-action/CG hybrids, which often felt tonally confused. Here, the Smurfs finally feel comfortable in their own animated skin.
If there’s one thing that defines this iteration, it’s warmth. Every frame seems designed to radiate positivity, even when the plot veers into chaos. The emotional climax, Smurfette realizing that leadership means trust, not control, is predictable yet oddly moving, thanks to Rihanna’s understated performance and a heartfelt musical reprise. Miller wisely keeps the focus on character rather than spectacle, so when the action does arrive, it feels earned. The final act, a magical showdown that blends music, light, and teamwork, delivers the kind of joyous crescendo family audiences crave.
In the end, Smurfs (2025) doesn’t revolutionize animation, but it doesn’t have to. It succeeds in giving an aging franchise new life with sincerity, style, and a beating heart. The film’s balance of humor, adventure, and emotion recalls the tone of early Disney classics, simple, direct, and warm. For parents, it’s a cheerful dose of nostalgia done right. For kids, it’s a gateway into a world that still feels vibrant and full of wonder. And for everyone in between, it’s proof that sometimes, even after all these years, a little blue optimism goes a long way.
Smurfs will be available to own on 10/28!

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