I hate to admit it, but I might be starting to age out of Pixar movies. Not emotionally—those core themes still get me—but I no longer feel that same pre-release flutter that used to accompany new titles from the studio. So when Elio began with a soft whimper instead of a colorful bang, I feared I’d made a poor call skipping my other screening (a Rebel Wilson bridal comedy that turned out to be a stinker). But then, somewhere between a shapeshifting supercomputer named OOOOO and the introduction of a bug-eyed alien buddy named Glordon, the film lifted off.

What starts as another lonely-boy-in-space tale blossoms into a warm, vibrant meditation on grief, identity, and connection—wrapped in a kaleidoscope of galactic weirdness only Pixar could animate with such grace. The story follows eleven-year-old Elio Solis (Yonas Kibreab), recently orphaned and living with his Air Force major aunt Olga (Zoe Saldaña, Emilia Pérez), who abandoned her astronaut dreams to raise him. Elio spends his days on the beach hoping for alien contact, which finally happens after he inadvertently sends a message to space.

Transported to the Communiverse—a galactic meeting place where alien species share knowledge—Elio is mistaken for Earth’s ambassador. He must navigate intergalactic politics while forming an unlikely friendship with Glordon (Remy Edgerly), son of the warlord Lord Grigon (Brad Garrett, Gloria Bell) who threatens the peaceful alliance.

The film’s opening act stumbles with familiar beats: plucky kid, aloof guardian, mistake-turned-adventure setup. But then something gently shifts. The emotional intelligence kicks in. The creativity skyrockets. The film becomes less about the misunderstanding and more about being misunderstood—about what it feels like to grow up feeling out of step with the world around you, and how connection often comes from the most unexpected places. That’s where Pixar shines, and here it does so without being overbearing.

Kibreab brings wonderful self-assurance to Elio, allowing audiences to journey alongside him convincingly through wild alien territory. He captures both the wonder and weight of a kid thrust into a world he doesn’t understand. Saldaña, though competent, feels slightly miscast—you sense the role wasn’t written specifically for her, with too much feeling like she’s trying to fit a shape she isn’t quite right for. Still, her scenes with Elio carry genuine honesty. Edgerly’s Glordon proves adorably endearing, stealing the film one gooey hug at a time, while Jameela Jamil (Marry Me) brings ethereal quality to Questa, the floating manta-ray-esque alien who can read minds.

From a design perspective, Elio is absolutely stunning. Pixar’s visual team—led by production designer Harley Jessup—went all-in on crafting a universe unlike any other. Using VR, macro photography, and techniques ranging from glitter bowls to drinking glasses filled with oil, the Communiverse looks dazzlingly weird. Sometimes grotesque, always beautiful.

This marks the first film to fully employ Pixar’s new Luna lighting system, allowing animators to define light and camera simultaneously—and it shows. The depth and vibrancy of alien worlds is jaw-dropping, with color and form evoking everything from larval insect biology to Afrofuturist dreamscapes. The alien designs draw inspiration from microscopic plants and animals, creating creatures that feel both bizarre and believable.

Directors Domee Shi and Madeline Sharafian—taking over after Adrian Molina stepped away—infuse the film with emotional sensitivity that complements the surreal visuals. Their previous work (Turning Red, “Bao“, “Burrow“) comes through in the film’s blend of gentle humor, intergenerational conflict, and unshakable belief in young people’s resilience. Rob Simonsen‘s soaring score swoops in at key moments to underscore the enormity of Elio’s journey instead of overwhelming it.

Elio takes its time finding a groove, but once it clicks, it becomes something genuinely moving and unexpectedly bold. The film explores heavy themes—grief, found family, the yearning to be seen—but never feels crammed. Instead, it floats along like Elio himself in zero gravity, allowing each beat to land before drifting to the next. It’s a film about how we communicate when we don’t have the right words, about accepting the messiness of feelings, and about the strange, wonderful forms love can take.

Parents should know this represents yet another Pixar film that might require a post-movie ice cream debrief. Elio’s orphaned status and his longing for connection present heavy themes, and the film doesn’t shy away from moments of genuine emotional intensity. But it’s also an accessible, heartfelt space adventure that celebrates the misunderstood, the quiet, and the weird—leaving the door wide open for future journeys.

Elio might not start strong, but it ends with heart. If you give it a little patience, it just might abduct yours. Despite its slow beginning, the film demonstrates Pixar’s continued ability to tackle difficult emotions through fantastical storytelling. It offers enough heart, humor, and visual splendor to satisfy both children seeking adventure and adults craving meaningful entertainment.