‘Moana 2’ mostly works
The pan-Pacific-Islander adventure broadens its horizon, while The Rock gets in the way
Moana (voiced by Auliʻi Cravalho) in "Moana 2."
Disney
Words by Siddhant Adlakha
A movie chock-full of great ideas, but hampered by its messy production, Moana 2 is among Disney's most thematically rich modern sequels, even if it doesn't quite stick the landing. While its broad strokes read like a narrative retread, the follow-up to 2016's Moana is a more collectivist take on the same material, with one eye towards Pan-Pasifika culture and cooperation, an immensely appealing goal that comes achingly close to fruition.
Set three years after the first film—in which oceanic explorer Moana (Auliʻi Cravalho) helped restore the living island Te Fiti, alongside the shape-shifting demigod Maui (Dwayne Johnson)—Moana 2 finds its main characters mid adventure before sending them on a brand-new quest. It's worth noting that Moana 2 was originally developed as a series before being reworked as a theatrical feature late into production, which seems to account for the awkward way it begins and how its pieces fit together, but it retains some dramatic heft regardless. At its core resides the wonderful idea of Moana, daughter of the chieftains of the Polynesian island Motunui, searching for traces of other Pacific Islander cultures, with the goal of connecting peoples long separated by the sea.
Moana's quest on a nearby island turns up a shard of a clay pot inscribed with a map. It's both proof of cousin civilizations as well as the inciting object that sends her back out into the ocean, albeit this time with a crew given the journey's arduous length. Her companions are the grumpy, elderly farmer Kele (David Fane), the enthusiastic historian and Maui fanboy Moni (Hualālai Chung), and the spunky, short-haired raft mechanic Loto (Rose Matafeo), a character with the potential to shepherd a number of young queer girls into adolescence.
From left, Loto, Moni, Moana, and Kele in "Moana 2."
Disney
According to the stories Moni keeps, all signs point to the hidden Island of Motufetū, which is kept shrouded in a hellish thunderstorm by the villainous god Nalo, a giant humanoid being depicted in various tapestries, and even an imaginative musical number, but bizarrely never seen in the movie. The actual mechanism of Moana's quest (breaking a nebulous "curse" by setting foot on this secret land) only really comes to light in the final act, but along the way, her goal of cultural reunification is powerful enough to keep the movie buoyant—especially through songs of desire and adventure like "Beyond," in which Cravalho displays impressive vocal dynamism.
The new characters are never quite given enough screen time to feel fully formed, since the once-TV show is compressed to a mere hour and 40 minutes, but they add some color and variety to Moana's scenes. They need to, since her usual companion Maui is also absent for much of the movie. He's strung up by a secondary villainess, the vampiric Matangi (Awhimai Fraser), a character so sensually lit and framed that she acts as a reminder that kids' movies—even Disney movies—once took into account that young audiences could experience attraction. Unfortunately, Matangi only sticks around long enough to deliver one delightful, jazz-inspired number ("Get Lost") before suddenly disappearing, another seeming consequence of the film's episodic nature.
The resultant plot swerves can be disorienting, but they yield fun concepts nonetheless, like a tribe of sentient coconuts, and an enormous, Lovecraftian clam, inside which Moana and co. discover an entire world unto itself. Moments of the film feel visually inspired, like the grainy visions Moana experiences, of ancestors and previous "wayfinders" from her village, to whom she feels spiritually connected, and in whose footsteps she follows. It's usually pleasant and delightful, if a little scattered, but it isn't long before Maui is obtrusively shoved back into the movie midway through, altering its very nature with his irreverence and modern pop culture references, as though he were Aladdin's Genie without Robin Williams' verve or versatility. Then again, it ought to be no surprise that Johnson's umpteenth attempt to brandify himself in a family friendly way has proved immensely grating. Ironically, his best work in recent years was his 2024 return to WWE, as a demonic version of his Rock character who, in fact, quoted Moana in perversely sinister fashion. That he almost never feels at home in material aimed at children bodes poorly for the live-action Moana remake (in which he reprises his role, and which is now in production), but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.
Maui (voiced by Dwayne Johnson) in "Moana 2."
Disney
With the caveat of its haphazard reworking, Moana 2 is somewhat effective—especially as an adventure tale for young audiences—thanks in part to its epic scale. Some of this grandeur is owed to distinctly Biblical influences, like a Tower of Babel throughline about people separated by language and culture as an act of god(s), as well as the distinctly Moses-like imagery of Moana parting the sea. But all the while, the film remains rooted in Pasifika symbols and traditions, including songs sung in Tokelauan and Samoan, as well as the notion of oceanic exploration as an act of altruism, rather than the colonial shape it has taken in recent centuries. It's hard to laud a major studio just for putting a movie out in theaters—especially one that fits so jankily together, given its TV origins—but with the constraints placed upon its artists, they've done a commendable job.
Published on November 26, 2024
Words by Siddhant Adlakha
Siddhant Adlakha is a critic and filmmaker from Mumbai, though he now lives in New York City. They're more similar than you'd think. Find him at @SiddhantAdlakha on Twitter