There are certain stories that never leave you. They linger like childhood memories, half fantasy, half feeling. How to Train Your Dragon is one of those stories. So, when word got out that DreamWorks’ beloved 2010 animated classic was getting the live-action treatment, I went in cautiously hopeful. Could the raw emotion of Hiccup and Toothless’ unlikely friendship survive the leap from animation to realism? Could something so steeped in visual whimsy and heart not only look believable, but feel the same?
Surprisingly, it does. And then some.
A Familiar Bond, Now Sharpened By Reality
From the very first time Hiccup lays eyes on the Night Fury, with those piercing, intelligent eyes, I was transported back. Not just to Berk, but to being a little girl sneaking bowls of milk to stray terrace cats while my mum shook her head in the background. That sense of forbidden friendship, of something tender blooming in unexpected places, is what How to Train Your Dragon has always been about. The live-action version captures that same emotional core with a deeper, more grounded intimacy.
The eye contact? It’s everything. In the animated version, it was powerful. In this movie, it’s personal. It's “it’s all in the eyes, Chico,” on cinematic steroids.
Chemistry And Conflict
Mason Thames, who steps into Hiccup’s awkward boots, doesn’t just act the part; he wears it like a second skin. There’s a vulnerability to his performance that feels more complex in a real-world setting. He’s not a caricature of an outcast; he’s a teenager truly grappling with legacy, violence, and identity.
Toothless, beautifully rendered through a mix of animatronics and CGI, retains his playful charm while feeling more like a living, breathing creature. His body language is meticulous. Every head tilt, every twitch of the ears, seems steeped in understanding. It's less animated exaggeration and more soul-deep connection.
Astrid, played with fire and finesse by Nico Parker, has more dimension here. Her character isn't just the tough girl foil; she’s driven, clever, and emotionally intelligent. Her chemistry with Hiccup grows slowly, but convincingly. Stoick the Vast, on the other hand, is given a more haunted presence, a father whose emotional rigidity finally starts to make sense in a world that feels real, and often, unkind.
The Drama
There’s no denying that some of the buoyant humour of the original is dialled down here. Characters like Fishlegs, Snotlout, and Ruffnut & Tuffnut still provide chuckles, but they aren’t the comedic backbone anymore. Instead, the remake leans into cinematic gravitas, stormy skies, Viking grief, and the heavy silence of a boy making the biggest decision of his life. And honestly? It works. The humour was always a delight, but this more dramatic lens fits snugly with the live-action aesthetic. You don't leave the cinema giggling, you leave reflective.
The island of Berk has never looked more tangible, rain-slicked rocks, dragon-scorched skies, and towering cliffs that seem to breathe with life. The cinematography strikes a fine balance between myth and realism, letting the landscapes do some heavy emotional lifting.
The Music
And then there’s the score. With original themes returning and expanded orchestration throughout, the music is a masterstroke. Every swell and silence swept me into the story’s emotional highs and devastating lows. If you close your eyes, you’ll still hear dragon wings in the distance.
I watched this film with my friend Blessy Marydasan, a fashion designer who had never seen the original animation. Watching her go through the full emotional rollercoaster, tense, teary, cheering on Toothless, was proof that this remake isn’t just for the nostalgia-driven. It’s a powerful standalone experience that welcomes new audiences while rewarding old ones.
/elle-india/media/media_files/2025/06/12/8rGpGF57ZPpDiVnLHyE6.png)
Is this live-action remake perfect? Not entirely. There are places where it could’ve risked more visually or injected a bit more warmth through dialogue. But that doesn't take away from what it is, a stunning reimagining of a story that remains, at its core, deeply human.
How To Train Your Dragon live-action is less about flying high and more about feeling deeply. It’s about courage, connection, and the beautiful ache of growing up. Whether you’ve loved the franchise since you were twelve, or you’re walking into Berk for the first time, this one’s going to stay with you.