There’s plenty of imagination and drive here, though little else sits beneath the show.
It sounds odd, but I’m convinced The Super Mario Galaxy Movie runs into the same core problems as Love Story, Hulu’s short look at the tragic romance between Carolyn Bessett and JFK Jr. In both cases, you do get a handful of performances worth noting and a strikingly lively eye for visual flair. Still, both productions stumble on the same issue: over most of their runtime, there’s genuinely not much at stake. Of course, one may be more inclined to land a clever line about Mario Maker-style trials, while the other could slip in “Roads” by Portishead at just the right instant. Swings and roundabouts, as they say.
At minimum, The Super Mario Galaxy Movie is made with good intentions. This is the second feature outing for the animated Mario, voiced by Chris Pratt, and I’m willing to say it’s a rather weak movie that’s nonetheless energized by enthusiasm and creativity. That’s what makes its shortcomings, in a way, more interesting than usual.
Let me try to boil the plot down into one complete sentence. Rosalina has been taken by Bowser Jr., and the rest must set off on a mission to bring her back. Another sentence then: To do it, they’ll have to travel across the galaxy!
What follows is a stream of highly vivid set pieces, many of them quick and genuinely fun. There’s the Mario Maker joke right from the start, along with a clash in a space casino that feels dangerously close to the laws of gravity. Yoshi shows up, munching through different items, and even gets an afternoon to explore Manhattan. A T-rex appears, followed by a baby T-rex. There’s also a sweet bit featuring ROB and a fantastic cameo from Fox McCloud, voiced by Glen Powell—arguably the most spot-on casting decision since Sam Elliott played Lee Scorseby in another flawed movie that still had its bright moments.
On top of that, there are literally thousands of Easter eggs. You might spot a visual gag about a beloved older peripheral—though not the Power Glove, I’m sure it’s somewhere in the background if you look closely—or notice references to Mario 1-2’s music whenever the protagonists head underground. When it comes to the soundtrack, the film shows real affection for the Gusty Garden theme, easily one of the series’ best. And for standout moments, there’s even a clever reinterpretation of the overworld map from Super Mario World. I could keep listing scenes like this for as long as you like.
Still, clever call-backs work much better as fuel for entertaining post-credit sequences than as the backbone of a full-length film. At times, any portion of this movie could comfortably function as the post-credits scene for another, slightly stronger title. So what exactly limits my enjoyment?
One major reason—and I know this sounds a little blunt—is that Chris Pratt’s Mario acts like a dampener right at the center of the film. It’s not only that the performance comes off flat; the writing also leaves something to be desired, and far too often Mario is simply there to comment on things we’re already watching unfold.
However, I think Mario’s portrayal points to a bigger flaw. The movie has a straightforward premise, which is perfectly fine—so does Oakley Hall’s Warlock. But in its love letter to Mario games, it has borrowed their rhythm too. The result is an onslaught of ideas that whirl by in an instant, only to vanish just as quickly. It feels like an adventure assembled from scattered, disconnected episodes.
Gimmicks and speed are an ideal pairing for platform games, not least because you can replay levels. That’s, after all, how many of the beloved elements the Mario films reference became treasured in the first place. In a movie, though, having everything rush past can tip you into a heightened sense of boredom. There isn’t any true “movie moment” in The Super Mario Galaxy Movie, because essentially everything is treated as “a moment.” Everything is beautifully created, designed, and choreographed, yet it’s here and then gone just as fast—without lasting impact. The film keeps nudging fans with winks, but it never truly lands any message of substance.
I know I’m a 47-year-old man judging a film made for five-year-olds. Here’s my response: yes, I’m getting close to 50, but I’m still—almost embarrassingly—ready to dive into stories. A Specsavers advertisement that ran before the film explored the world through the eyes of short-sighted children in just 45 seconds, and it genuinely moved me. I’ll remember it forever! On my deathbed, I’ll probably say, “Wow—Specsavers really nailed it that day.” But the Mario movie I watched afterward didn’t stick with me, and I suspect it’s because there wasn’t a guiding idea being examined underneath all the motion. The theme is what lifts a story, and it’s something you either need to clearly spell out or simply take the time to unpack and reflect on.
Put simply, when my daughter was younger, we watched a lot of animated films, and it was fascinating to see that the ones she returned to still had something meaningful behind them. She wasn’t about to become a media-studies lecturer, but even so, the films we rewatched until the discs were worn down were all “about” something. You could say the Mario films lean on nostalgia—sure, but whose nostalgia is it, exactly? And even then, that explanation isn’t really enough.
To be clear, I’m not being entirely honest. What’s strange is that there’s almost a more compelling movie hiding inside this one—or at least, stretches where the ideas briefly shine with the same energy as the spectacle. But it isn’t truly a Mario picture; it’s a Bowser picture. Bowser and Bowser Jr. have an engaging rapport for much of the film, with the son attempting to carry out a wicked plan that the father may have already outgrown. The most compelling sequence in the entire movie is theirs too—and it’s one of the simplest. The father tells a delightfully chilling bedtime story to the son, drawing them back into its spell.
But this still isn’t a Bowser movie, just as it isn’t really a Mario movie, a Luigi movie, a Rosalina movie, or anything along those lines. There just isn’t enough room—or time—for anything genuinely memorable to take shape.
And that’s a shame. After I walked out of the cinema, I checked the cast list, and—my friends—it’s impressive. The talent assembled for this film is remarkable. But none of them get a real chance to stand out—except, of course, Glen Powell; good luck trying to hold him back, my friend. So perhaps Portishead said it best: “Never found our way. Regardless of what they say.” That’s well put, honestly.
This review is based on a viewing of The Super Mario Galaxy Movie. Eurogamer sourced its own tickets.