How to Train Your Story

These holidays have been filled with lots of movie time with the kids – it’s something we love as a family, and we’ve especially enjoyed introducing some old but great franchises to Jayden!

This morning we took the family to see How To Train Your Dragon – DreamWorks’ live-action remake. I’ll be honest, when I first heard that DreamWorks was remaking this beloved animation, I was a bit sceptical. First, the original animated movie came out in 2010 and still holds up. The animation is a little older compared to today’s CGI – but the story line, the voice acting, the animation in general, and even the musical score holds up perfectly. The clear question is why did this movie require or need a remake? The answer is pretty clear – because Disney is raking in lots of money in doing theirs. Or at least, they did rake in money – their last few remakes have flopped hard. Some would say deservedly so.

How did DreamWorks’ first live-action adaptation do?

Answer: not too bad.

The Movie: A Quick Review

The heart of the story still beats strong: a misunderstood boy, wanting to prove himself to his father, forms an unlikely friendship and through it saves the day. The same director and musical composers are back (which is different to the Disney remakes), and the world of Berk is just as big and beautiful as the first we saw on our screens 15 years earlier.

There’s much to like about this remake. The emotional beats remain intact, the actors give it a genuine go, and Toothless – even in live action – still charms.

But there are some quibbles.

First, the racial tokenism. Berk’s population is now made up of Asians and Africans, and the explanation for their existence is contrived. It’s clearly an attempt at representation that falls flat for one simple reason: it’s never woven meaningfully into the story and these ethnicities make no appearance in, or difference to, the rest of the movie. That said, I loved Julian Dennison (a New Zealand actor with Māori descent) as Fishlegs Ingerman – even though his casting didn’t quite align with the world-building logic of Berk as a Nordic Viking-esque world.

Second, the animation of the original gave each dragon a distinct and memorable personality – which is something the live-action remake almost manages but doesn’t quite reach. Toothless has similar mannerisms, but he seems less fun compared to the original.

Finally, the musical score by John Powell soars as Hiccup and Toothless literally soar through their pivotal scene: test drive. However, the reason this moment works so tear-jerkingly beautifully in the original is that the musical motifs of both Hiccup and Toothless are already clearly presented earlier in the movie. So, when they combine in the test drive scene, they take our emotions on the soaring ride. The same theme plays in the live-action remake, but it doesn’t have the same impact. I think the key is that the leitmotifs are not established clearly enough in the earlier scenes for the payoff during ‘Test Drive’.

Still, the movie works. Because we already know this story, and we like knowing it again.

If you loved the original, chances are you’ll find this remake good.

As I watched, a few things struck me – not just about the film, but about why we keep remaking these stories in the first place. Why we love nostalgia.

The Obsession with Retelling Stories

Hollywood’s remake machine is running hot. There’s no shortage of older stories getting new faces. There’s the straight remakes – like The Lion King or The Little Mermaid – to the storyline echoes – think how Star Wars VII: The Force Awakens is so similar to Star Wars IV: A New Hope. Even commentors online have humorously pointed out that the story beats in Top Gun: Maverick are essentially the same as Star Wars IV: A New Hope – a veteran trains a new generation to fly through a trench to shoot at a tiny exhaust port without the use of targeting equipment and escape before getting blown to bits. And no one seemed to care as long as the story was compelling and told with passion.

Nostalgia is a powerful draw. There’s comfort in the familiar, a sense of safety in stories we already know and love. Occasionally a remake transcends and offers fresh depth while honouring the original (like Cinderella 2015).

But more often, they fall flat. Take for example Mulan (2020). It had his beautiful cinematic moments, but the changes it made to the storyline and where it ended up demonstrate that it lacked vital understanding of the heart of the original. It was a retelling that didn’t understand the tale.

And yet, we keep watching. It seems like we’re wired for stories that repeat. We return to them not just for the nostalgia, but maybe because we believe they are (or should be) building towards something. A resolution. A climax. A conclusion that makes the retelling worthwhile.

The Ultimate Story Retold

That longing for meaningful repetition isn’t just a moviegoer’s instinct. I think it’s a human one. We love stories – and we love stories retold.

It’s also why the Bible – though made up of many books and multiple authors spanning centuries – is so unified despite having so many stories. Because the stories inside retell the same story again and again, each time deepening it, expanding it, and pointing forward. Here’s a few of those stories:

Exile and return – Adam and Eve exiled from Eden after their rebellion; Jacob ‘exiled’ in Haran after his altercation against Esau; Israel exiled in Babylon due to persistent rebellion. A pattern of sin, exile, and longing for return.

The unlikely saviour – Ehud, a left-handed Bejaminite; Gideon a fearful and reluctant warrior from the weakest clan; David the overlooked youngest son; Esther an orphaned Jewish girl who becomes Queen and saves without lifting a sword; Moses the exile with a speech impediment. A pattern of God using an unexpected person to rescue his people.

Rescue through water – Noah, saving through floodwaters; Moses, saved as a baby on the Nile and then leads Israel through the Red Sea; Joshua leading his people through the Jordan River to the promised land; Elijah and Elisha parting the Jordan again with God’s power. Being delivered through water in the Old Testament is a theme used to heighten anticipation for some future, greater rescue.

There’s a few others as well. The substitutionary sacrifice (Abraham and Isaac, the Day of Atonement), the rejected then vindicated leader (Joseph, Moses, David), covenant renewal at key points in Israel’s history, and the cycle of sin-judgement-mercy.

Each time the story is told it’s deeper, richer, and more hopeful. To repurpose a line from Sally-Lloyd Jones: each story whispers: “This isn’t the end…there’s more to come!”

And it all culminates in Christ.

The Final and Fulfilled Retelling

Mulan (2020). I can’t remember a wider gap between trailer excitement and post-movie disappointment. I’m glad I watched it though – because it stirred in me a hunger for a better story. The one fulfilled by Jesus.

And yet, Jesus doesn’t just echo the stories that came before, nor ape them. He completes them.

Every exile finds its way home in Him. Every unlikely hero points to His victory. Every thread of sacrifice, rescue, justice, and mercy comes together in his life, teaching, death, resurrection and ascension.

His story is the retold story we’ve been longing for. Not just familiar, but fulfilling. Not just another version, but the true version the others hinted at all along.

If you’ve ever wondered why we enjoy stories with familiar arcs and repeated rhythms, it might be because we’re wired that way by our storytelling God.

He’s been doing it for centuries, telling the same story over and over – especially in the lives of his people: You were made for him, you turned away, but He hasn’t given up on you and He’s made a way to come back to him.

The climax of all those stories, from the Old Testament and through the centuries since, is Jesus. And those stories give us an invitation: don’t just watch the story from a distance, trust Jesus, follow Him, and come find your place in His story.