Kubo and the Two Strings

Kubo and the Two Strings flew under a lot of people’s radar back in 2016, but it really shouldn’t have. On the surface, you’re in for a visually stunning stop-motion adventure that’s absolutely drenched in Japanese folklore and artistry. The story follows Kubo, a kid with a talent for storytelling (and a magical shamisen), caught up in a dangerous family mess. Frankly, it’s rare when animation feels this hand-crafted and soulful.

For me, the tone hit a sweet spot. It’s melancholic and genuinely moving, but it also has moments where you just want to stare at the screen because the animation is ridiculous. It feels almost tactile—like you could reach out and touch the paper and fabric. Laika Studios always brings their A-game visually, but they outdid themselves here with things like the origami magic and moonlit boat scenes.

The pacing drags a bit in the middle; it’s not a breezy sit. They lean into atmosphere and emotional build-up, but sometimes it verges on slow. Some beats linger just a hair too long and a few side characters get shortchanged. I kind of wanted more development for Beetle, just because his character felt like it could have been deeper.

That being said, the cast really goes for it. Art Parkinson voices Kubo with this earnest vulnerability, and Charlize Theron as Monkey is an absolute highlight. There’s a dry, protective humor in her lines that works perfectly with the largely somber backdrop. Honestly, Matthew McConaughey surprised me the most—he dials down his usual persona and brings a fuzzy warmth to the Beetle character.

The story definitely has some emotional punch, especially toward the end. Themes of memory, loss, and forgiveness are handled with a mix of gentleness and courage. Maybe it’s not as tight as Coraline, but it feels more ambitious and mature. At times, though, I wish it trusted the audience a bit more and dialed back the explicit moral lessons.

The music. That shamisen score weaves through the movie and gives it this immersive, otherworldly vibe. If the visual artistry doesn’t pull you in, the soundtrack probably will. The final number over the credits might be a little on-the-nose, but it kind of works after everything you’ve just sat through.