You Are Not Alone — Elio
There have been a couple of occasions in my life where I have looked up at the stars and openly wept. It wasn’t necessarily because I was sad in the moment, or even hurt by something else going on around me. It was just the realization as I stared up into the vastness of space that this was the closest I’d ever be to the rest of the universe. It made me feel insignificant, even meaningless, and of course, lonely. Growing up as a bullied kid with few friends, there was already the general sense of isolation figuratively and literally beaten into me, and as I watched the night sky in all its beauty move on indifferently, I at once felt the seemingly incompatible dread of being both unique and a miniscule face in an endless sea of them, together with the rest of the world but completely on my own.
The title character in Pixar’s latest adventure, Elio, exists in a similar mental space. He’s too different, too weird, too individual for a homogenized planet, but the sense of wonder he gets from seeing the final frontier drives him to find purpose, even if it’s just an escape from trauma and the validation of being more than what he is, a scared and lonely child. There are some cliché moments in the film, particularly in its front-loaded exposition, but once you get past them, the emotional core gets across superbly. Combine that with a genuinely fun and visually dazzling space quest, and you get the best Pixar original since Soul. This isn’t a pantheon entry for the leading animation studio, but it’s very high on the second tier, and given the recent trend of just churning out sequels and spinoffs, it’s a welcome return to normalcy. In short, this is everything that Lightyear should have been.
I’ll dispense with the worst trope of the film right away. Our lead, voiced by Yonas Kibreab, is an orphan, his parents having died offscreen before the events of the story. Elio is being raised on an Air Force base by his aunt Olga (Zoe Saldaña), who monitors space debris and alerts the various space agencies so as to avoid orbital collisions, which can be very dangerous. Part of the inciting conflict is Elio not feeling like anyone loves him because his rambunctious antics annoy Olga, who’s trying her best to do right by him and raise him properly, and an out of context bit of eavesdropping where Elio overhears her say, “This isn’t the life I wanted” on the phone, which leads him to believe that she doesn’t actually care about him.
Again with the dead parents bit. I honestly wonder if Disney thinks that child protagonists are incapable of character development without such trauma, and it gets worse when you learn that Olga was originally supposed to be Elio’s mother (and voiced by America Ferrera, but she left the project due to scheduling conflicts), but it was changed because the directors (originally Adrian Molina, then later Domee Shi and Madeline Sharafian) felt Elio needed this tragedy as motivation. The bullshit is compounded by the tired sitcom convention of mishearing a one-sided conversation that doesn’t involve him, which had been done to death before the filmmakers were even born.
The thing is, there is empirical evidence that this approach is wrong. Look at the best films Pixar has ever put out, and you’ll notice an odd connection. Most of them have a secure, stable family unit at the center of the young characters’ worlds (if there’s any family dynamic at all). In Inside Out, Riley has two loving parents who accept and embrace despite her faults. The Incredibles movies focus on the Parr family as a whole, and emphasize the importance of sticking together and supporting one another even in the craziest of situations. In Soul, Joe has a loving mother who encourages him both creatively and practically. Even in flicks without a so-called nuclear family, the idea is there as a fortifying element. In the Toy Story series, Andy is raised by a single mom, but it’s never a point of dramatic tension. We don’t know if they’re divorced, or if Andy’s dad is dead, or if he and his sister were simply adopted, because it doesn’t matter. His mom takes care of him, ensuring he grows up well-adjusted. It’s actually a contrast with Sid’s family, which does have two parents, but they’re dysfunctional, leading to a destructive troublemaker. And even if you were to question Andy’s domestic situation, by the time we get to Toy Story 4, we have Bonnie and her two parents to reset the paradigm. Even a picture like Finding Nemo, which begins with a devastating parental loss, is used to inform Marlin’s actions and drive him to be a guiding force, if overprotective, because Nemo himself wasn’t yet alive to be directly affected by it.
Contrast that with the lesser works by the studio. The Good Dinosaur starts with two parents, but they’re one-note archetypes and the dad gets Mufasa-ed 20 minutes in anyway. Brave also has a mom and a dad, but the mom is turned into a bear and the dad is a hot-headed warrior. Neither truly relate to Merida until circumstances force them to. The main conflict is that they aren’t good influences on her and simply demand that she follow tradition for its own sake. In Onward, the dad is again dead before the movie even starts, and it’s just so we can do some Weekend at Bernie’s shenanigans before offering the fake emotional whammy that the brother was the real father figure all along, as if we couldn’t see that plain as day from the very beginning. Luca and Elemental have parental figures on all sides, but they’re all caricatures rather than being impactful mentors, and in Alberto’s case, dad just abandoned him because reasons.
My point is that I’m all for non-traditional family situations, but there has to be an organic reason for it, not a worn out plot contrivance. The mere absence of a mother and/or father doesn’t automatically equal character depth. The crux of all of this is to demonstrate that Elio, who is fascinated with the idea of alien life, wants to be abducted because he doesn’t fit in on Earth. There are literally millions of ways to demonstrate that without going back to the dead parent well. It’s pointless and lazy, and we know that Disney and Pixar are better than this. So why do they keep employing it, and based on the production history, why do they feel the need to keep employing it in this specific way? I don’t get it. These people rip kids away from their parents more than [insert topical political commentary here].
As I said, though, once we’re past that nonsense, this is pretty sweet. In his quest to get abducted, Elio tries setting up intricate HAM radio contraptions, inspired by the “gold records” sent into deep space by the Voyager spacecraft. While waiting in Olga’s office at the base (he’s being disciplined for getting into a fight with some other boys), he overhears a briefing where it appears that our message to the cosmos has been answered, and he gleefully signals any extraterrestrials that he’s ready and willing to meet them. He is then beamed excitedly to the “Communiverse,” a sort of space station United Nations containing “ambassadors” from every peaceful spacefaring civilization, and as Earth’s “leader,” Elio is now a candidate to join.
This is a great place to address two more topics. One is another set of redundant tropes, in this case the use of a “liar revealed” story arc — where Elio never reveals that he’s just a kid until the third act because he’s too thrilled with the possibility of leaving Earth behind to just tell the simple truth and clear up any misunderstandings — and the odd sci-fi concept of entire planets having one centralized ruler. The old “take me to your leader” bit is as old as genre itself, but it always feels misplaced. This is a whole freaking planet, and the Communiverse is meant to be a hub of intergalactic diversity. You’re seriously suggesting that none of the worlds they’ve visited has democracy, or local and national politics, or just any form of decentralized government for populations in the billions? Really?
The second aspect actually helps us dismiss the first, because the whole concept of the Communiverse, as well as its visual execution, is just flipping gorgeous. The bright pastel colors, the bulbous and fluid motions of the various alien races (which makes the more rubbery, doughy aesthetic of Elio and the other humans tolerable within context), a liquid supercomputer named OOOOO (Shirley Henderson) who facilitates language translation and bridges the technology gap, and a Universal Users Manual (Bob Peterson) who can answer any question but shows disappointment when he’s asked for a mundane solution rather than the meaning of life, it’s all so goddamn imaginative and brilliant. Anyone would want to live in this world just to push all the buttons and see what happens. You don’t have to be a possibly neurodivergent introverted kid to see the majesty in all of this, but seeing Elio’s wide-eyed amazement does help you form a deeper connection with the character, far more than a million dead parents ever could.
Elio isn’t the only possible ambassadorial candidate, however. Also up for consideration is Lord Grigon, perfectly voiced by Brad Garrett. He’s the leader of the Hylurgians, an advanced warrior race bound to a code of honor, basically this film’s version of Klingons, who wishes to conquer the galaxy with the Communiverse’s help. When they reject his militaristic ways (you can ponder why they’d even consider his application in the first place if they’re so committed to pacifism, but I let it slide), he vows swift and violent reprisals. Elio volunteers to negotiate a truce in exchange for his own approval, and when things go awry, he’s imprisoned on Grigon’s ship. While attempting to escape, Elio meets Glordon (Remy Edgerly), the sluglike son of Grigon. As it turns out, the Hylurgians are all in this form, and when they come of age, they permanently encase themselves in a mechanical carapace with built-in weaponry that allows them to wage battles across the universe. Elio and Glordon quickly become friends, and agree to help one another, as they both feel like loners, Elio because Olga doesn’t understand him, and Glordon because he doesn’t want to become a fighter like his father.
This is where the film almost wins me back on the dead parent thing… almost. With Glordon, we see a contrast to Elio’s family life that actually demonstrates some nuance. He has a structured upbringing, but he rejects it and feels alone because his parents’ traditions (his mother is unseen, but is stated as being alive, off on some other mission of conquest) don’t align with his personality and ambitions. Elio, on the other hand, is in a frenetic situation but refuses to see Olga’s earnestness for what it is, somewhat selfishly dismissing any path that doesn’t cater to his whims. It comes close to being a perfect thematic opposition, but again I would still argue that the point gets across if Olga is his mom rather than his aunt, and everyone is still alive. Hell, it would probably be even better this way, because you’d have a mother trying to raise Elio and a father trying to raise Glordon, showing that these issues exist regardless of parental gender or situation.
The story has something of a pacing issue, as at times the plotting progression is as hyperactive as Elio himself. That might make it a little hard for the youngest viewers to keep up. When I saw the film Thursday night, there was a toddler asking her mom what was going on a couple of times, particularly after some very fast moments. It doesn’t drag things down, but it’s definitely something to watch out for. You can also argue that there are times when the movie doesn’t quite know what kind of movie it is, as there are jumbled elements of space opera, buddy comedy, road trip story, and kiddie caper. It never stretches so far that things become incoherent though, so it’s largely forgivable when the story can’t quite settle itself down and focus. It also doesn’t hurt that the climactic space flight through a debris field is ten times more exciting than Gravity.
On a meta level, I also have to applaud an element that has been sorely mishandled in a lot of recent projects, particularly franchise fare and family animation, and that’s the use of pop culture references. There has been an overabundance of them over the last decade-plus, and most of the time it’s the movie’s way of shouting, “HEY! I’M AWARE THIS THING EXISTS! THAT MEANS YOU CAN ASSOCIATE ME WITH THAT OTHER THING YOU LIKE, AND THEREFORE IT MAKES ME GOOD EVEN THOUGH I’VE PROVIDED YOU WITH ABSOLUTELY NO SUBSTANCE!” Here though, what few nods exist are there purely for cheeky entertainment for those who care to notice. These are not more cameos from the Pizza Planet truck or instances of plastering “A113” in some incongruous location (though I’m sure they’re there somewhere, I just didn’t look), but things that are actually genre-appropriate without being crucial to your enjoyment of the film. The two big smile moments for me were the inclusion of a minor character voiced by Brendan Hunt named Melmac (the home planet of Gordon Shumway, aka ALF), and a science museum exhibit on the Voyager probe itself, narrated by Kate Mulgrew. Captain Janeway is literally telling us about Voyager. Chef’s fucking kiss! Do either of these moments matter to the overall story? I mean, Melmac is an actual character who’s involved in the plot, but his name has nothing to do with it, so I’d say no. We’re not drawing attention to the reference. It’s just there for us to acknowledge if we want, much the same way that Elio and Olga’s last name is “Solis,” a Spanish name derived from the Latin for “from the stars.” It’s clever, but not falling over itself to point out how clever it is. It’s a minor point, but oh so refreshing.
This is because the film stays on what’s really important, which is Elio’s journey, his friendship with Glordon, and the overarching reminder that no matter how secluded you may feel, no matter how remote everything seems, we’re never truly alone. There will always be people who care about you and what happens to you. Elio uses Carl Sagan and others who’ve posited the macro theory of whether we’re alone in the universe (long story short, the laws of probability conclude that’s it’s nigh impossible that we’re the only intelligent species on a habitable world, it’s just that technology as we understand it and the size of space itself make it highly unlikely that any aliens are actually coming to see us, or are even aware of us) and reduces it to the microcosmic experience of just being a confused kid who hasn’t found their place in the world yet, showing how even the most minute of issues can seem as big as all existence.
That’s the spark of what makes Pixar what it is, being able to convey these complex parts of life via fantastical visuals and over-the-top storytelling. Is this on the level of WALL-E? No. But that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t slot nicely next to the likes of Coco. This isn’t an all-timer, but there will be an audience that finds this truly essential to their lived experience, and for that alone, it deserves your time and money infinitely more than the remakes that are currently dominating the box office.
Grade: B+
Join the conversation in the comments below! What film should I review next? Can Pixar keep succeeding with original stories, or is it going to turn into a sequel factory like mainline Disney? Should I have docked this film two full letter grades on principle for them even acknowledging the existence of the Space Force? Let me know! And remember, you can follow me on Twitter (fuck “X”) as well as Bluesky, subscribe to my YouTube channel for even more content, and check out the entire BTRP Media Network at btrpmedia.com!
Originally published at http://actuallypaid.com on June 21, 2025.
