If you’ve ever scribbled a story idea on a pizza box and somehow turned it into a full-blown Netflix movie—congrats, you might be Alex Woo. Back in 2017, Woo and the Pixar vets who founded Kuku Studios were brainstorming what would become In Your Dreams, a heartfelt animated adventure about siblings, surreal dreams, and the messy beauty of family. Eight years and one very moldy pizza box later, that idea is a 90-minute film with a limited theatrical run and a Netflix release—and it’s something special.

The setup is simple, but the emotions aren’t. Stevie (Jolie Hoang-Rappaport) and her little brother Elliot (Elias Janssen) are trying to fix something broken: their family. Their solution? Journey through their dreamscape to ask the Sandman (voiced by Omid Djalili) for help. Along the way, they face zombie breakfast foods and cross paths with the Sandman’s former colleague named Nightmara (Gia Carides, Penguin Bloom).  Locating Elliot’s long-lost favorite stuffie, a fart-powered plush giraffe named Baloney Tony (Craig Robinson, Hot Frosty), is as ridiculous and lovable as it sounds.

This is where the movie shines. Yes, it’s packed with kid-friendly gags—laser farts, dancing jam jars—but it’s not afraid to sit with big feelings. There’s a quiet emotional intelligence running underneath the comedy. Director Woo (a veteran of Finding Dory and The Good Dinosaur) doesn’t use sentiment as seasoning—he makes space for it. This is a film that recognizes sadness and confusion as part of growing up, and it doesn’t rush to tie those feelings up with a bow.

As someone from Minnesota, I got a kick out of the subtle local references sprinkled throughout the film. But the real magic comes from how well Stevie and Elliot’s sibling bond is written and performed. Hoang-Rappaport and Janssen play off each other with warmth and timing that feels real. You believe these two have fought over TV remotes and made up five minutes later. Their chemistry keeps the movie grounded even as the visuals get wild.

And those visuals? Beautiful, but never overwhelming. Unlike a lot of modern animation that feels over-processed, In Your Dreams knows when to go big and when to pull back. Magical realms glow just enough; real-world scenes stay muted and familiar. Credit goes to Sony Pictures Imageworks and the design team for creating a dream world that’s playful without feeling chaotic. John Debney’s score supports the tone nicely, adding just enough lift without crowding the emotion.

Robinson’s Baloney Tony walks away with the movie, hands down. He’s silly, sure, but there’s heart behind the nonsense. His one-liners land hard, but so does his care for the kids. It’s a performance that adds layers, not just laughs. Djalili brings an intriguing ambiguity to the Sandman, while Simu Liu (Last Breath) and Cristin Milioti (Palm Springs) voice the kids’ parents with just the right mix of love and weariness. Their story stays mostly in the background, but when it hits, it hits.

Woo has talked about the challenge of making a movie about dreams—anything can happen, which means you need rules or the story falls apart. In Your Dreams doesn’t just toss out random weirdness. Each twist in the dream world reflects what the characters are feeling. That’s what makes it work. The chaos always points back to something real: a fear, a memory, a wish. It’s not just weird for weird’s sake.

I watched this with my two nephews and they were fully locked in—laughing, asking questions, feeling things. That’s a good sign. For kids, this movie’s going to stick in a way adults might not realize. It’s sneaky that way. There’s warmth and wisdom baked into all the wackiness.

Sure, it’s not flawless. Some scenes could use a tighter rhythm, and it’s more focused on emotional clarity than intricate plotting. But that’s the trade-off it makes, and I think it’s the right one. This isn’t trying to be the next Inside Out or Shrek. It’s carving its own path, and doing it with heart.

More people will probably discover In Your Dreams on Netflix than in a theater, but if you get the chance, see it with a crowd. It’s the kind of film that works best with shared laughter and stillness in the dark. For Kuku Studios, it’s a strong debut—and a promising signal that they’re here to tell stories that matter.

Because even when things aren’t perfect, they can still be good.