Let’s be real for a second: no one was sitting around begging Disney to remake Lilo & Stitch in live-action. And yet, here we are in 2025, watching a blue alien wreak adorable havoc in Hawaii all over again. But despite the ongoing debate around Disney’s never-ending quest to repackage animated classics, this version has a surprising amount of heart—and just enough fresh surf wax to stay upright on the nostalgia wave.
If you were a kid (or the parent of one) in the early 2000s, you probably remember Lilo & Stitch as one of Disney’s weirdest and most charming entries. A scrappy little girl and an alien genetically engineered to destroy planets somehow find family, healing, and ohana under a Hawaiian sunset. It was as much about grief and found family as it was about laser guns and Elvis. It’s no wonder fans still hold it close.
Now, more than 20 years later, Disney’s brought the story back, this time with real actors, actual waves, and a CGI Stitch. Directed by Dean Fleischer Camp (yes, the same mind behind the delightfully odd Marcel the Shell with Shoes On), this 2025 update manages to retain the core emotional beats of the original, all while offering some new layers—especially for the adults in the room.
An Alien, A Girl, and a Whole Lot of Chaos
It starts far from Earth, on a planet where a mad scientist named Jumba (played with gleeful mischief by Zach Galifianakis) has created a tiny, feral experiment known only as 626. Built for destruction and chaos, 626 is more menace than pet, and the planet’s grand councilwoman (a regal Hannah Waddingham, stepping into the role with the same commanding elegance as Zoe Caldwell in the original) doesn’t like what she sees. Instead of allowing Jumba to celebrate his creation, she orders that the creature be dismantled—permanently.
But, of course, 626 isn’t one to sit quietly in a containment cell. He escapes, crashing through space in a stolen ship and eventually landing on Earth. Hawaii, to be exact. The council sends Jumba and an “Earth expert,” the hilariously awkward one-eyed Pleakley (Billy Magnussen, bringing wide-eyed warmth), to retrieve the escaped experiment. In classic comedic fashion, they disguise themselves as humans—although Jumba still looks suspiciously like Galifianakis in a wig and sunglasses.
Meanwhile on Earth, things aren’t so funny for six-year-old Lilo (newcomer Maia Kealoha, who gives a soulful and sincere performance). She’s dealing with more than your average kid drama. Her parents died not long ago, leaving her in the care of her overwhelmed older sister Nani (played with remarkable strength and warmth by Sydney Elizebeth Agudong). Lilo is lonely, quirky, and a little out of sync with the world around her. She talks to fish, has trouble connecting with her peers, and sometimes lashes out in strange ways. In other words—she feels deeply human.
Finding Stitch (And Finding Ohana)
It’s at the local animal shelter where Lilo’s life takes a turn. Stitch, having modified his appearance by retracting his extra arms and antennae, has been mistaken for a weird-looking dog and locked in a cage. When Lilo sees him, it’s love at first bite—literally. She adopts him, names him “Stitch,” and brings him home, oblivious to the fact that she’s just invited an alien fugitive into her tiny house.
At first, Stitch is pure chaos. He tears apart her room, attacks furniture, and acts more like a Tasmanian devil than a dog. But slowly, something starts to shift. Lilo sees through the destruction. She sees someone who’s scared, lost, and just as in need of connection as she is. That’s where the magic lies—in their shared brokenness. They both want ohana, a Hawaiian word that means family, but more specifically, the kind you choose.
What made the 2002 version so beloved wasn’t just the comedy or the sci-fi antics. It was the emotional depth. This remake doesn’t forget that. If anything, it leans further into the story’s human heart. Nani, especially, is given more development. She’s not just the panicked older sister trying to keep her family together—she’s a young woman with dreams, fears, and complicated emotions about raising a child when she’s barely out of childhood herself.
And in a lovely nod to the original, several voice actors from the animated film appear in new roles. Tia Carrere, who voiced Nani in 2002, now plays the skeptical social worker trying to decide if Nani is fit to care for Lilo. Jason Scott Lee (originally David, Nani’s love interest) returns in a new role, and Amy Hill—who played a shopkeeper in the animated version—shines as Tutu, a sweet and grounded neighbor who offers wisdom and comic relief.
Stitch, The Monster Who Wanted to Belong
Perhaps the most poignant arc remains that of Stitch himself. In the beginning, he’s a creature of pure instinct—violence, escape, survival. But the more time he spends with Lilo, the more he begins to change. The girl who believes her pet fish controls the weather slowly teaches Stitch what it means to care for someone. She gives him structure, affection, and even teaches him to dance. He starts to realize he doesn’t want to destroy anymore. He wants to belong.
Chris Sanders, who co-wrote and co-directed the original, reprises his role as the voice of Stitch. His performance is still as delightfully bonkers as ever—raspy, strange, and oddly tender. It’s a smart move by the filmmakers, giving Stitch continuity and charm that connects him to the animated version. And yes, Elvis is still here too. The soundtrack remains peppered with The King’s music, lending the movie that unmistakable retro-glow.
Questions Without Answers (And That’s Okay)
Over the years, fans have quietly debated whether Lilo is coded as autistic. She doesn’t understand social cues. She hyper-focuses on things like her pet fish. She has trouble connecting with other kids. The film never gives a definitive answer—and wisely, neither does the remake. Instead, it leans into the broader idea of empathy and difference. Whether Lilo is on the spectrum or not, her experience resonates with anyone who’s ever felt out of step with the world.
That empathy runs through the whole film. Even Cobra Bubbles, the no-nonsense government agent played by Courtney B. Vance, is more than a typical fed. With his gold earring and deadpan delivery, he’s a man with his own secrets—hinting that he’s seen more than his job title suggests. He isn’t just watching Lilo; he’s protecting her from forces she doesn’t even know exist.
Bigger Scope, Same Small Soul
Visually, the live-action Lilo & Stitch is lush and beautiful. The Hawaiian setting is captured with sun-drenched sincerity. The surfing scenes are thrilling, and the costume design captures a real sense of place and character. While some of the CGI in family films can get wonky, Stitch is rendered with surprising care. He’s tactile enough to feel like a real presence in scenes, but still cartoonishly expressive in ways that keep the tone fun and light.
Dean Fleischer Camp deserves credit here. He doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel. Instead, he honors the original story while sanding down some rough edges and adding a bit more texture. The result isn’t revolutionary—but it’s quietly effective. He understands that a story about found family doesn’t need to be flashy to be powerful.
Of course, this version isn’t perfect. Some fans will undoubtedly argue that no remake can ever capture the lightning-in-a-bottle charm of the original. And they’re not wrong. There’s an element of creative risk missing when studios keep going back to the same well. But if we’re going to revisit beloved stories, this is how you do it—with heart, humor, and humility.
Ohana Means Family—Still
So where does this leave us? Is the 2025 Lilo & Stitch a must-watch? If you’re a fan of the original, you’ll probably find enough to love. If you’re brand new to the story, you might just fall for it the same way kids did two decades ago. Either way, it’s a film that reminds us—especially in these noisy, anxious times—that family is about more than blood. It’s about the people who choose to stay, even when you bite them.
Is this remake necessary? Probably not. But is it sincere, well-acted, and worth watching with your kid—or your inner child? Absolutely. Sometimes, that’s enough.
So grab your surfboard, cue up some Elvis, and let the blue chaos monster remind you: no one gets left behind, or forgotten.
