[7.7/10] There is a little bit of magic in Disney films of a certain stripe, where the music swells, and the counterpoint kicks in, and the protagonist hears the call to adventure, and your icy heart can’t help but melt a little as you feel the hero's same pull toward the horizon and trepidation over whether they can make it in time to the beat. *Moana* is filled to the brim with these moments, ones that make the most the hero's journey it sets the title character on and her combination of self-confidence, internal conflict, and uncertainty that give her layers and make her compelling.

But if, like me, you’ve been watching that same stripe of Disney movie since you were barely able to hum along to the music, then that formula, even a particularly entertaining version of it, can’t have the same impact that it once did. *Moana* is cheery, exciting, and fun from start to finish, but it doesn't break much new ground among its mouse-eared brethren, and while its rendition of the form is quite good, it’s not quite good enough to transcend it.

The best elements of the film are its music and its visuals. As to the former, *Moana* can boast the best set of Disney tunes on the big screen since the studio’s Renaissance era. The team of Opetaia Foa'i, Mark Mancina, and Lin-Manuel Miranda combine to concoct a series of consistently amusing, oft-stirring, and always head-bob-worthy songs that carry the film forward. From the moving chorus and counterpoint of “Where You Are” and “How Far I’ll Go” that are remixed and revisited throughout the film, to the clever humor and wordplay of “Shiny” which recalls the best of Disney’s character songs, the soundtrack alone is reason to cue this film up and stick with it through the end credits.

The same is true of the film’s visuals. *Moana* captures the Polynesian island aesthetic in a way that simultaneously manages to capture the natural beauty of the tropical setting in almost endless splendor, and expand it into the realm of the mystical and supernatural that feels like a natural extension of that aesthetic rather than a betrayal of it. The film is water-adjacent for the vast majority of its runtime, and uses the movement of the seas, the canopy of sky and stars overhead, and the colorful, kinetic obstacles the world throws at them in between, to create a picture that could survive on its visuals alone even if the music weren’t as good as it is.

That extends beyond the setting and cinematography. *Moana* features a pair of wordless characters who nonetheless have personality and important parts to play within the story. The film uses the living tattoos of Maui, a braggadocious demigod, as his conscience. Creating a sense of motion, magic, and the pull of duty and caring through the gestures and nudges of Maoi’s miniature ink equivalent is no small feat, and it’s done in new and creative ways each time.

By the same token, *Moana* makes the ocean itself a character, and not just in one of those cheesy, “the city is really a character in my novel” sort of ways. In a fashion that recalls the magic carpet from *Aladdin*, the ocean that surrounds Moana at all times is a legitimate presence and persona in the movie, one that can seem playful, rueful, encouraging, or majestic with the way it bobs up and splashes back. The animation team manages to make an amorphous blob of water feel like a friend, which is itself a unique achievement.

What holds *Moana* back is the way it comes off like a mix and match of elements from other films in the Disney canon. Moana’s self-proclaimed crazy lady of a grandmother is one of the most enjoyable parts of the film, but her comings and goings feel like combination of similar characters in *Pocahontas* and *The Lion King*, and happen at all-too-convenient times. The story beats, while nicely molded to fit the setting and this particular take, will be familiar to anyone who’s seen a good sampling of the studio’s prior films. And the character’s crestfallen lows, soaring highs, and goofy middles are well done, but feel like the latest flavor of Disney’s classic theme and variation.

That said, *Moana* can boast a few things in its favor that help distinguish it and make it worthwhile independent of the company it keeps. First, it dispenses with the love story. While there’s hints of flirtation and playfulness between Moana and Maui, this is a tale of Moana figuring out who she is, what she’s made of, and how best to lead her people while caught between the importance of tradition and the pull of the great unknown. That’s more than enough to sustain a story like this, and thankfully *Moana* doesn't try to shoehorn in a standard Disney romance where it’s not needed to weigh that down.

Second, the film is well-aware of the tropes its playing with. Maui has a quick but amusing explanation of why Moana is a standard issue princess (which he issues over her protests), a definition the film both leans into and subverts a bit, and he also pokes fun at her designation as The Chosen One. The hero’s journey that Moana embarks on isn’t all that novel, but the movie has the good sense to wink at its conventions without winking too hard at the audience, which takes a bit of the edge off.

Third, and perhaps most importantly, *Moana* is simply charming. Some of that charm comes off as a little empty if you think too hard about it, but through a combination of the fun banter between Moana and Maui, the cast of silly and heartwarming support characters, and the way the spirit of Polynesian traditions and culture are embraced and reflected make for an engaging film, even when it’s employing a familiar playbook.

That’s the trick of the uber-Disney film. There’s a certain formula that’s updated and refreshed for each new generation, but remains recognizable and a little less revelatory to the old guard that sweeps into the theater. But somewhere in the midst of the update, of the endearing, silly figures that populate the film, the splashy visuals that make you want to visit Motunui, and the songs that will be stuck in your head for days to come, the magic happens, and you stop caring about the fact that you’ve kinda sorta seen it all before, and just enjoy the moment.