

Given the wildly varying sizes of their mammalian cast-from hamster to rhino-the directors Byron Howard and Rich Moore and the co-director Jared Bush have particular fun with scale and perspective. Visually, the film is a giddy delight, bright and inventive. (As when Judy describes Nick as “articulate,” or patiently explains, “A bunny can call another bunny ‘cute,’ but when someone who’s not a bunny …”) Its lessons about tolerance, diversity, and racial profiling may be familiar, but they are delivered with a conviction that is never cloying and frequently a touch subversive. The film that unfolds from these beginnings is in many ways a conventional one, but it unfolds with so much wit, panache, and visual ingenuity that it outstrips many a more high-concept movie. However, with the reluctant help of a con artist fox named Nick Wilde (Jason Bateman) … well, I suspect you get the general idea.

Yet the life lessons continue to accumulate when the police chief (a cape buffalo voiced by Idris Elba) assigns her to parking duty, rather than allow her to work on the case of 14 mammals of different species who’ve gone missing in the city. “If you don’t try anything new, you’ll never fail,” explains her dad, recommending that she follow his path-and that of her 275 brothers and sisters-and become a carrot farmer.īut Judy holds on to her dreams, and when she comes of age she moves to the big city, Zootopia, enlists in the police academy, and becomes the first-ever bunny officer. No sooner is the performance over than Judy’s parents-did I mention that she, and they, are rabbits?-begin trying to talk down her ambition to one day become a police officer. And, like most school plays, its rosy take on the world is not entirely accurate. The medium by which this message is conveyed is a school play written and performed by young Judy Hopps (Ginnifer Goodwin).
