If you’ve caught even the slightest glimpse of the marketing for the new Smurfs movie, you know exactly what it’s banking on: Rihanna. As the voice of Smurfette—and a producer on the project—the global superstar’s name dominates posters and trailers, hinting at a bold, musical reinvention of the beloved blue creatures.
This animated feature, directed by Chris Miller and written by Pam Brady, serves as a reboot for the franchise based on the comic book series created by the Belgian comics artist Peyo.
The latest offering wisely sidesteps the live-action films from 2011 and 2013, and the 2017 animated sequel, to offer a fresh start. Unfortunately, despite flashes of charm and an impressive cast list, Smurfs never quite knows what kind of movie it wants to be, resulting in an admittedly visually striking, but tonally muddled adaptation.
The peaceful Smurf village is thrown into chaos when the evil wizard Gargamel and his brother Razamel (both voiced by JP Karliak) kidnap Papa Smurf (John Goodman). With Papa gone, it’s up to No Name Smurf (James Corden) and Smurfette to lead a ragtag rescue team into the human world, seeking the help of Ken (Nick Offerman), Papa’s brother, to save their village. Along for the ride are an ensemble of recognisable Smurfs, including Brainy (Xolo Maridueña), Vanity (Maya Erskine), Hefty (Alex Winter).
Rihanna’s voice work as Smurfette is perfectly serviceable, and her few musical numbers are adequately produced. But the movie seems to want to be a musical, until it doesn’t. After opening with a big ensemble dance number and teasing the kind of pop-fueled fun that powered the Trolls films, Smurfs suddenly turns into a standard adventure story, leaving the musical interludes feeling like afterthoughts rather than integral narrative elements.
That tonal whiplash extends to the humour. Given Pam Brady’s history with sharper, adult-leaning comedy (she co-wrote South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut and Team America: World Police), one might hope for sly wit alongside kid-friendly one-liners. Instead, the film plays it exceedingly safe, serving up gags that rarely land.
Visually, however, Smurfs is undeniably pretty. The animation renders the Smurf village and characters in vivid, glossy detail, offering a modern sheen without sacrificing Peyo’s classic designs. The cast list reads like a Hollywood who’s who, with voices from Natasha Lyonne, Sandra Oh, Dan Levy, Octavia Spencer, Nick Kroll, Hannah Waddingham, and even Kurt Russell popping up.
In the end, Smurfs isn’t outright terrible—it’s watchable, mildly amusing, and certainly boasts enough colour and star power to keep kids engaged from start to finish. But for a film so heavily hyped around Rihanna’s involvement and promising a musical reinvention, it’s disappointingly unsure of itself. The songs feel shoehorned in, the jokes rarely land, and the adventure lacks the spark or inventiveness needed to set it apart from countless other animated outings.
For diehard fans of Peyo’s timeless characters or curious Rihanna devotees, it may be worth a casual watch. But as a reboot aiming to refresh the Smurfs brand, this one feels more like a placeholder than a triumphant new beginning.
