HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON (2025) movie review

Timeless. Universal and DreamWorks’ live-action remake of the Academy Award-nominated How to Train Your Dragon (2010) proves that some stories continue to resonate through the ages. Of course, “ages” in this context is only fifteen years. Returning to helm this project, HTTYD veteran writer-director Dean DeBlois crafts a fantasy world that’s incredibly tangible–even the dragons. His combination of puppetry, practical effects, and CGI give the dragons and the land of Berk a naturalism that feels connected to the world on screen. While this live-action remake plays it very close to the original, in terms of scenes and sequences, the heartfelt story will still capture your imagination and serve as a fantastic film for Father’s Day this weekend.

On the rugged isle of Berk, a Viking boy named Hiccup defies centuries of tradition by befriending a dragon named Toothless. However, when an ancient threat emerges that endangers both species, Hiccup’s friendship with Toothless becomes the key to forging a new future. Together, they must navigate the delicate path toward peace, soaring beyond the boundaries of their worlds and redefining what it means to be a hero and a leader.

While it would be easy to chalk 2025’s HTTYD up to an exercise in business theory, given that much of the movie is shot-for-shot of the original, it would be disservice to the audience experience for those that may be seeing this story on the big screen for the first time. Because anyone under the age of 18 (if not 21) either wasn’t yet born or doesn’t remember watching it in the cinema in 2010. And this is a BIG SCREEN movie. If fact, I’d argue that watching HTTYD in a premium format at your local cinema is the best way to return to Berk, particularly if you did see the original animated film in cinemas (as did I). I’ve read reviews that fill the spectrum from “lifeless and lazy” to “better than the original;” neither extreme reaction or interpretation is entirely accurate, in my opinion. Given that much of the story is the same, all the way down to shots, scenes, dialogue, and sequences, I’m choosing to review the film as if watching it for the first time, as many will be watching it for the first time on the big screen.

Since the story is largely unchanged from the original, I don’t want to spend a significant amount of time on it; however, there are themes that leapt off the screen this time even more than when I first saw the original. Perhaps its’ because a lot has happened in our country and around the world in the last fifteen years.

In true allegorical fashion, HTTYD crafts a parable of prejudice and reconciliation that resonates with our contemporary sociocultural landscape. Through its depiction of dragons as misunderstood creatures feared and vilified by Viking society, the film speaks directly to the way some cultures and communities are often dehumanized by dominant cultures. Initially framed as mindless beasts bent on destruction, dragons embody the constructed image of “the other”—not inherently evil, but made threatening through narratives rooted in ignorance and fear.

Through Hiccups’s hero journey, our own fears and prejudices are challenges. His character arc hinges on that pivotal moment with Toothless when he is about to kill him. Not only does Toothless challenge Hiccups’s prevailing ideology, but reframes his worldview of dragons and the people of Berk entirely. “I looked at him, and I saw myself,” he says, distilling the film’s core thesis: true empathy begins when we stop projecting monstrosity onto others and instead recognize shared sentience. In contrast, his father Chief Stoick represents the institutional stronghold of fear and tradition. His transformation from dragon-slayer to dragon-defender is a microcosm of generational reckoning—a character arc that underscores how systemic prejudice can begin to unravel when met with vulnerability and truth.

Thematically, the film’s narrative expands beyond simplistic binaries of good and evil to explore the broader existential anxieties that provoke violence and division. In doing so, HTTYD transcends fantasy and enters the realm of social commentary. It reminds us that the instinct to “other” those who are different is not innate but learned—and, crucially, unlearnable. At a time marked by cultural polarization and survivalist rhetoric, the film dares to imagine a world in which peace is possible—but only if we choose empathy over fear.

Writer-director DeBlois crafts a Berk that feels like a real place, perhaps a place from our own world history. Instead of layer upon layer and scene upon scene of blue and green screens, DeBlois opts to eschew the sterile sterility of digital backlots in exchange for a fantastical world grounded in the tactile weight of reality. Rather than relying on synthetic blue-screen environments, the production team committed to crafting full-scale Viking arenas, longhouses, and coastal villages—sets brimming with texture, history, and atmospheric weight. Filmed on location in Northern Ireland, the practical environments not only enhance the visual authenticity but immerse the audience in a world that feels as lived-in as it is mythic. These tangible structures blend seamlessly with the region’s craggy terrain, lending the film a geographic and cultural specificity that deepens the narrative.

Likewise, the film’s flight sequences are not mere visual spectacle—they are balletic displays of aerodynamic realism. Thanks to a synergy between practical rigging and digital enhancement, the VFX team captures the exhilarating sweep and dive of dragon flight with a physicality rarely achieved in CGI-heavy cinema. Specialized camera systems were deployed to trace every soar and swoop with kinetic precision, preserving the wonder and danger of airborne movement. The result is not just believable—it’s breathtaking. This nuanced and layered approach to the fusion of practical and CGI effects was also in part what made the dragons feel incredibly real. Dragon puppets were used to inform the CGI timing, lighting, and choreography. Later, CG animators seamlessly replaced the physical heads with digital models, preserving actors’ eye-lines and interactions. Mason Thames is rarely acting opposite a tennis ball on a boom pole; his Hiccup is interacting with a dragon set piece that is fully articulate.

Whether the original breathtaking animated film is one that you’ve seen a dozen times or you’ve never seen the original, the live-action remake of the critically acclaimed HTTYD is worth your time at the cinema. Furthermore, this film would make for an outstanding diversion for dads and their kids over this Father’s Day weekend, regardless of ages. Some stories, characters, and themes are timeless, and can still speak to us years later.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio show ReelTalk “where you can join the cinematic conversations frame by frame each week.” Additionally, he is the author of the upcoming film studies book titled Monsters, Madness, and Mayhem: Why People Love Horror. After teaching film studies for over eight years at the University of Tampa, he transitioned from the classroom to public media. He is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

DANGEROUS ANIMALS (2025) horror movie mini review

Sufficiently fun. Dangerous Animals is the kind of horror movie that is sufficiently fun and entertaining once, but not a movie that commands a rewatch. The premise is fantastic: a serial killer that kidnaps young tourists (usually young women) and feeds them to sharks as he uses a old VHS camcorder to capture the victim’s demise. Dangerous Animals takes inspiration from other movies such as Shark Night (2011), Cabin by the Lake. and even The Silence of the Lambs. Between truncated first and third acts, is a protracted second act that foils any suspense, tension, or proper pacing setup in the first act. Performatively, the film is quite good; had it not been for the compelling and entertaining performances, the movie would’ve fallen quite flat for me. Like with many indie films, the cinematography and editing outclass the screenwriting. The evidence of thoughtful directing is there, but its potential is hampered by the poorly paced and structured screenplay. This feels like a short film idea that was augmented to fit a feature length runtime. Without giving it away, there is a particular scene about a third of the way through the movie that is straight-up an homage to an iconic scene from Silence of the Lambs, which I really appreciated. Releasing on the 6th of June, if you enjoy shark and/or horror movies, then its worth checking out. But like I said, for me, as sufficiently entertaining as it was, it isn’t one that I am going to rewatch anytime soon.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio show ReelTalk about all things cinema. Additionally, he is the author of the upcoming film studies book titled Monsters, Madness, and Mayhem: Why People Love Horror. After teaching film studies for over eight years at the University of Tampa, he transitioned from the classroom to public media. He is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

FINAL DESTINATION: BLOODLINES horror movie review

Deliciously terrifying! Final Destination: Bloodlines is a sleek, thrilling experience that delivers heart-pounding, nightmare inducing fuel that feels familiar yet fresh. And underscoring the outside/action plot is an emotionally-driven family drama. You’ll root for their survival! After a decade-long hiatus, the Final Destination franchise roars back to life with Bloodlines—an edge-of-your-seat, high-octane installment that doesn’t just rest on its laurels on its signature Rube Goldberg-esque kills; rather, it dares to deepen the mythology and inject real emotional stakes. This isn’t just a parade of spectacularly elaborate kills; Bloodlines brings humanity and emotional vulnerability to the forefront, making every death feel earned—and every survival all the more desperate.

Plagued by a violent and recurring nightmare, a college student heads home to track down the one person who might be able to break the cycle of death and save her family from the grisly demise that inevitably awaits them all.

Bloodlines doesn’t reinvent the “Final Destination” wheel, but it certainly retooled the 26yo engine. It’s faster, more furious, and surprisingly emotionally compelling—a rare horror film that makes you care who dies and how. (Except for perhaps Julia–pretty sure everyone applauded when she met her demise). By blending the franchise’s signature fatalism with real human drama, it proves that even after all these years, Death still has some fresh tricks up its sleeve. And it’s that “heart” that makes this installment different from the rest. After the original and traumatizing second movie (never drive behind a logging truck ever again), this is the first installment to inject an emotionally resonant core into the narrative. Despite the family drama, it’s clear that everyone cares about each other, even though some distance has grown between some of them. And the fact they care about one another compels us to root for their survival.

But what about the kills? The deaths, of course, are still inventively gory and meticulously choreographed—this is a Final Destination movie, after all—but they’re no longer the sole draw nor does the camera linger too long. Instead of being a schlocky bloodbath from beginning to end, this Final Destination movie is more punctuated with the death scenes, and never feel like the scenes themselves–the kills are more like buttons on a dramatic sequence that delivers sufficient setup, development, and resolution. Each death in Bloodlines serves a narrative purpose, reflecting character choices and emotional arcs. When someone dies, it’s not just shocking—it hurts. The deaths are all the more painful because our characters matter. Each character is given a moment to breathe, before the inevitable occurs. Character decisions matter; their respective relationship with each other and the world around them matter. When they die, it doesn’t feel like a spectacle; it feels like a loss (except for you, Julia, I think that was a gain).

Directed by Zach Lipovsky and Adam B. Stein, Bloodlines brings a more mature tone to the franchise without losing its pulse-pounding suspense. This isn’t just death coming for the next in line—death is unearthing long-buried histories, and the characters are forced to confront more than just their mortality–they are forced to confront family secrets. The screenplay benefits greatly from being measurably more character-driven than plot-driven, which bestows upon this movie a narrative quality seldom experienced in the Final Destination franchise (or nearly any horror franchise this far into its franchise). The film also expands the franchise’s mythology in subtle, intriguing ways, threading in ideas about fate as something both predetermined or inherited. Without diving too far into exposition, Bloodlines cleverly explores what it means to be marked—not just by death, but by family history.

And I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the final appearance of the late horror great Tony Todd. Like Vincent Price, Todd’s mere presence in a horror film added a qualitative dimension that could not be replicated by any other actor. Todd’s contributions to horror and science-fiction TV (namely Star Trek) are many and each delivered with class. RIP.

Final Destination: Bloodlines isn’t just a refreshing return to form—it’s a redefinition. It proves that slasher-adjacent (which this is; we just don’t see the slasher) movies can be character-first without losing the terrifying or nightmare-inducing edge. Bloodlines also subverts our feelings about being a survivor in a horror movie–sometimes the scariest thing isn’t dying–it’s questioning why you’re still alive.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio show ReelTalk about all things cinema. Additionally, he is the author of the upcoming film studies book titled Monsters, Madness, and Mayhem: Why People Love Horror. After teaching film studies for over eight years at the University of Tampa, he transitioned from the classroom to public media. He is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

Another Simple Favor and Fight or Flight

I’m a bit behind in getting reviews posted; it’s been a crazy last 3-4 weeks, but here are a couple mini reviews of two recent watches.

Another Simple Favor

Another Simple Favor is a stylish and entertaining return to a world of couture crime and suburban secrets, but it’s not nearly as smartly written, sharp, or thrilling as A Simple Favor (one of my favorite films from 2018), but thanks to its two leads, the sequel is still a cocktail worth sipping on a weekend afternoon.

When Paul Feig’s original A Simple Favor debuted , it was a stylish shock to the system—an unholy blend of mommy-blog satire, noir thriller, and fashion-forward camp, anchored by magnetic performances from Blake Lively and Anna Kendrick. Paul Feig returns to the world of pastel lies and killer secrets in a much-anticipated sequel aiming to rekindle that same twisted charm, but the sequel is plagued by poorly written dialogue and a plot that is a little too far fetched. While Another Simple Favor delivers its share of glitz, twists, and giggles, it doesn’t quite capture the original’s lightning in a martini shaker.

Stylistically, this movie keeps much of what worked the first time around: the runway-inspired couture costumes, the popping soundtrack, and family drama, but it feels more like a knockoff this time around than fresh and original. Blake Lively continues to own every scene as the enigmatic Emily, oozing charisma and menace in equal measure. Kendrick, once again, brings a nervy charm to Stephanie, whose sunny exterior masks a deep well of insecurities and ambition. But the key difference between the two films lies in tone and tension. Where the first film felt like a genre-bending noir-spired surprise—veering from domestic drama to murder mystery to black comedy—the sequel often feels underwhelming in comparison. Narratively, it misses the mark set by the original. The plot doubles down on absurdity and globe-trotting intrigue, but it occasionally sacrifices emotional stakes for spectacle.

Despite this, Feig’s direction remains confident and it is still an entertaining movie. Fans of the original will likely enjoy the ride, even if the destination feels slightly less fresh.

Fight or Flight (2025)

Fight or Flight is ridiculously fun from takeoff to landing. The high flying action/comedy is a no holds barred, wildly entertaining ride that is absolutely bonkers. It’s the kind of movie that, on one hand, looks like a complete train wreck, but then you realize how smart it actually is. Equal parts absurd, exhilarating, and unapologetically over-the-top, it charges headfirst into chaos and never looks back. It’s one adrenaline pumping genre movie that even has a little hart.

From its opening scene, the film gleefully abandons logic in favor of sheer, unfiltered spectacle. Josh Hartnett is in his element here, and is having a complete blast along the way. But that’s part of the charm. The film doesn’t care if it makes sense; it just wants you to have a good time at the cinema. And you will. Fueled by a knowing wink and turbo-charged editing, the movie manages to turn cinematic chaos into something wildly entertaining. It’s bonkers. It’s brash. But oh so fun!

The script, while clunky in places, knows what it is. Most of the characters are caricatures, but the performances bring charisma where nuance is lacking. Leads Hartnett and Charithra Chandran ground the film in (some modicum of) naturalism, which is important to note because of how absurd nearly everyone and everything else is in the movie. Their performances and characters ground the chaos sufficiently enough, and provide moments of emotional reset.

For those willing to look a little deeper into the movie, there is a rather scathing thread of commentary on the exploitive nature of the origin of some of the items we use everyday, not thinking of the labor it takes to mass produce. While this movie could have very well limited itself to a bonkers action/comedy, it includes some thoughtful content.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio show ReelTalk about all things cinema. Additionally, he is the author of the upcoming film studies book titled Monsters, Madness, and Mayhem: Why People Love Horror. After teaching film studies for over eight years at the University of Tampa, he transitioned from the classroom to public media. He is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

DROP (2025) movie mini-review

“Drop” in on a lot of fun at the cinema. Universal and Blumhouse’s Drop is a highly entertaining Lifetime-esque thriller that requires a prescription-strength dosage of suspension of disbelief. With a charming cast and adrenaline pumping suspense and tension, Christopher Landon’s latest movie delivers an engaging time at the cinema.

Violet is a widowed mother who goes to an upscale restaurant to meet Henry, her charming and handsome date. However, her pleasant evening soon turns into a living nightmare when she receives phone messages from a mysterious, hooded figure who threatens to kill her young son and sister unless she kills Henry.

If you enjoy the Lifetime movies of the 2000s, then this is right up your alley. The stakes are high and you’ll empathize with our central character of Violet, and root for her and her family’s survival. Because the lead cast quickly makes a meaningful connection with the audience, the plot holes (and there are many) almost feel irrelevant because the movie’s strength isn’t so much in the realism of the plot as much as it is in the naturalism of the plot. The movie is disconnected sufficiently enough from reality that it functions as an escapist picture, therefore the fact that there is little to no way this plot could ever happen due to the ridiculous nature. Between the high camp, high stakes, and charming cast, Drop blends the aesthetics of a high-budget thriller with the emotional pitch of a Lifetime movie—often to hilarious and unexpectedly entertaining results.

From writer-director Christopher Landon, Drop is directed with the kind of slick, over-serious tone that almost dares you not to laugh, Drop thrives in that uncanny cinematic space where implausibility meets irresistible entertainment (a.k.a. the Lifetime movie formula). The film is not so much interested in realism as it is in emotional immediacy—and it serves it with gusto. What makes Drop work is the sheet Oscar-level commitment. In an era wherein movies that typically fall in the vein of this one, wink at the audience to cue them in on the joke, this movie never acknowledges the absurdity of the premise. Which proves to be the winning hand, because the audience’s experience is surprisingly immersive. The stakes may be inflated, but the emotions feel real in the moment, and that’s what keeps viewers engaged. it to be consumed by its tornado of drama.

Even though the movie never becomes self-aware of its absurdity, that isn’t to say that the campy levels of plot devices and drama don’t play a role–on the contrary–the movie’s absurdity is its strength. Whether you’re watching in genuine suspense or howling with friends at the sheer audacity of it all, Drop delivers. And it’s way more fun than it has any right to be. Solid as the plot is from a storytelling mechanics perspective, it definitely defies conventional logic. But the movie completely surpasses any expectations I had going into the movie. Drop is a deliciously unhinged suspense thriller that feels like a Lifetime movie on a Red Bull bender—highly recommended for fans of unintentional camp and cathartic chaos.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio show ReelTalk about all things cinema. Additionally, he is the author of the upcoming film studies book titled Monsters, Madness, and Mayhem: Why People Love Horror. After teaching film studies for over eight years at the University of Tampa, he transitioned from the classroom to public media. He is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry