I wasn’t planning on loving it. Just like back in 2010, when I went into the animated How to Train Your Dragon with crossed arms and walked out starry-eyed and slightly emotional, this new live-action version crept up on me. Director Dean DeBlois returns to helm his own adaptation, and somehow—through sheer craft, care, and eye-popping visuals—it feels like watching magic happen all over again.

Dragons have been captivating family audiences since the dawn of cinema, from Ray Harryhausen‘s stop-motion marvels to Disney’s Pete’s Dragon. Yet few franchises have captured the pure magic of human-dragon bonding quite like DreamWorks’ beloved trilogy. This 2025 version follows that same trajectory of skepticism melting into wonder, proving that sometimes the most predictable magic is still the most powerful.

For those who know the animated trilogy inside out, there won’t be any massive surprises. The plot follows Hiccup (Mason Thames, The Black Phone), the awkward son of Viking chief Stoick the Vast (Greenland‘s Gerard Butler, reprising his voice role in the flesh), who’d rather invent gadgets than swing a sword. When he injures a Night Fury—one of the most mysterious dragons in the land—he can’t bring himself to kill it. Instead, he frees the beast, names it Toothless, and slowly builds a bond that changes everything he thought he knew about dragons, about Berk, and about himself.

What’s striking about the remake is how faithfully it sticks to the story—and how well it still works. There’s comfort in the familiarity, sure, but also a thrill in seeing it brought to life with such lavish scale. Director of photography Bill Pope blends live-action performances with CGI so seamlessly it’s easy to forget Toothless doesn’t actually exist. He feels real: when he bounds around like a loyal dog or curls his wings protectively around Hiccup, it lands with full emotional force. The flying sequences are a genuine rush, the kind of movie moments you feel in your chest.

Thames brings Hiccup to life with exactly the right mix of dorky charm and aching sincerity. He captures that sense of a kid caught between expectation and instinct, trying to redefine strength on his own terms. Most impressively, Thames makes his friendship with the CGI Toothless feel unmistakably real. Nico Parker (Suncoast) as Astrid is sharp and self-assured, but she softens just enough to let Hiccup in—and the relationship never feels rushed or forced. Julian Dennison (Deadpool 2) is a delight as dragon-fact-spouting Fishlegs, while Nick Frost (Get Away) makes a welcome addition as Gobber, balancing broad comedy with genuine warmth. Butler reminds us how good he can be when he’s not yelling through green screens, and his scenes with Hiccup spark with tension and, eventually, affection.

What’s always made this story endure, even across mediums, is that it’s about so much more than dragons. Yes, it’s about discovery and friendship, but underneath it all is a deeply relevant exploration of masculinity, leadership, and legacy. Hiccup is expected to kill, to conform, to command. Instead, he chooses compassion. In 2025, that still feels radical. Watching Stoick wrestle with his son’s defiance and eventually arrive at understanding—well, it’s the kind of emotional payoff that sneaks up on you. A few audience members audibly sniffled at my screening, and I’ll admit: I was one of them.

From a production standpoint, this thing is a beast. Lindsay Pugh‘s costume design stays true to Viking grit without ever looking silly or cartoonish. The cloaks, the leather, the layered textures all feel authentic and worn. John Powell returns to expand on his iconic score with added firepower. Familiar themes now have more muscle, more sweep, more volume, especially in IMAX where the room quite literally shakes.

If there’s a quibble, it’s that the film stays so faithful to the original that some might wish it had taken a few more risks. A new subplot, a fresh character, a twist we didn’t see coming—those additions might have helped this version justify itself beyond just “now with real people!” But that’s a mild complaint in the face of something this earnestly made.

How to Train Your Dragon soars as genuinely exciting live-action entertainment that proves fidelity can be virtue rather than limitation. DeBlois has created something special: a remake that justifies its existence through sheer technical brilliance and emotional honesty. Kids will cheer, longtime fans will get emotional, and newcomers will wonder why they waited so long to visit Berk. It’s not just another remake—it’s a roaring, heartfelt return to one of the best stories ever told about what it means to truly see someone, and to be seen in return.