Elio: Proof That Pixar Still Knows How to Speak to Your Inner Kid

I watch a lot of cartoons. Not just the ones people talk about at award shows or the ones splashed across fast-food toys — I mean everything. Saturday morning reruns, indie shorts, international festival winners, old VHS tapes that still crackle with static. Animation, in all its forms, is one of the purest storytelling mediums we’ve got. And every now and then, a new one lands that reminds me why I fell in love with this stuff in the first place. Elio is one of those.

Now, let’s be clear — on paper, this movie isn’t breaking wild new ground. A kid stumbles into an intergalactic misadventure and accidentally becomes Earth’s representative? I’ve seen flavors of that story before. But in animation, it’s never just about the what, it’s about the how. And Elio handles its familiar premise with enough charm, sincerity, and visual ingenuity to make it feel like something special.

First off — the visuals. I’ve seen my share of beautifully animated films, but Elio is a feast. It’s not just technically impressive (though it absolutely is), it’s alive. The alien council scenes in particular burst with imaginative design. It’s clear the artists had fun here — no two creatures look alike, and each one feels like it could star in its own short film. That kind of worldbuilding detail is what separates the good from the great in this genre.

But as any cartoon aficionado will tell you, great visuals mean nothing if the story’s hollow. Thankfully, Elio has heart to spare. The relationship between Elio and his mom Olga is written with refreshing honesty. It’s a depiction of parental love that isn’t sugarcoated — supportive, sometimes frustrating, and ultimately beautiful in its imperfections. And for all the cosmic drama happening around them, it’s those quiet human moments that hit the hardest.

Elio himself is a lovable protagonist. I appreciate that they didn’t turn him into a snark machine or a flawless hero. He’s weird, insecure, and creative in that way only kids can be. Watching him navigate a universe that sees him as a representative of his species, when he barely knows how to navigate his own emotions, is both funny and quietly moving.

What I respect most about Elio, though, is how it trusts its audience. It’s playful and silly when it wants to be, but it also lets heavier moments land. It talks about feeling alone, about wanting to belong, about how bravery isn’t about being fearless — it’s about being scared and showing up anyway. And it never underestimates the kids in the audience by talking down to them. That’s a mark of a studio that understands good animation isn’t “just for kids.”

Sure, there are a few pacing hiccups. The middle act drifts a little before snapping back into focus, and some of the council humor leans a bit young for my taste. But those are tiny scuffs on an otherwise polished gem.

If you’re someone like me who cares about cartoons — not just as entertainment, but as art, as culture, as the kind of thing that speaks to the part of you still wide-eyed and curious — Elio is worth your time. It’s not the flashiest or the funniest animated movie you’ll see this year, but it’s got soul. And in a world of loud, forgettable blockbusters, soul counts for a lot.