A MINECRAFT MOVIE Review

If you told me five years ago that a live-action Minecraft movie directed by Jared Hess —yes, the director of Napoleon Dynamite—would be one of the most charmingly anarchic family films of the decade, I’d have rolled my eyes into the cubic horizon. And yet here we are. A Minecraft Movie is a strange, shambling, deeply weird piece of blockbuster filmmaking that somehow works, more The Lego Movie by way of Bill & Ted than anything resembling a traditional video game adaptation. And much of that is down to the inspired casting of Jack Black, Jason Momoa, and a narrative that refuses to take anything too seriously until it really, really has to.

We begin in what can only be described as one of the most bizarre cold opens in recent family film history. Jack Black’s Steve, a failing doorknob salesman, breaks into a mine to chase a childhood dream. There he finds the Orb of Dominance and the Earth Crystal, and—as one does—creates a portal to a fully blockified alternate universe known as the Overworld. Welcome to the plot. The film doesn’t wait for you to catch up.

Once there, Steve builds a DIY utopia with his blocky dog Dennis, stumbles into the hellish Nether, and promptly gets himself imprisoned by Malgosha, a piglin ruler played with snarling exuberance by Danielle Brooks. Her disdain for creativity fuels a plot to steal the Orb and conquer the Overworld. But before she can get her hooves on it, Steve hides the MacGuffins back in the real world—under his bed, of course.

Enter Garrett “The Garbage Man” Garrison, a washed-up arcade champion turned video game store owner, played by a perfectly deadpan Jason Momoa. Garrett, looking for something to save his Chuglass, Idaho business, wins a storage unit filled with Steve’s old belongings—and, of course, the keys to another universe. Elsewhere in town, siblings Henry (Sebastian Eugene Hansen) and Natalie (Emma Myers) are grieving their mother and adjusting to a new life. Natalie bonds with eccentric realtor Dawn, played by Jennifer Coolidge, who wants to open a petting zoo. Because why not?

Before long, Henry activates the portal, and all four—Garrett, Henry, Natalie, and Dawn—are sucked into the Overworld. Cue monsters, crafting tutorials, and a surprising amount of mid-combat emotional growth. Hess leans into the absurdity, turning the entire second act into a series of escalating slapstick battles mixed with genuine character beats. Watching Henry build a wooden fortress while Garrett negotiates with Steve for access to a diamond stash is as hilarious as it is oddly moving.

The emotional lynchpin is Steve. Jack Black gives him a kind of wide-eyed maniac energy that swings from naïve idealism to feral desperation. When Malgosha sends out the Great Hog to recover the Orb, and the gang is separated, Black’s Steve shifts into something resembling a reluctant leader. The script never forces the heroism. It lets it grow awkwardly, block by emotional block.

There’s an explosive minecart chase, a creeper-assisted escape, and a surprisingly affecting detour in a mushroom house where the gang licks their wounds and Steve contemplates his failure. It shouldn’t work. And yet, in Hess’s hands, it kind of does. That the third act manages to be both emotionally resonant and include pig-zombie armies being destroyed by the sun is a feat unto itself.

Jason Momoa’s Garrett is another revelation. He plays it dry and tired, but with just enough of a spark to make his character’s arc—from washed-up joystick cowboy to Overworld co-creator—genuinely satisfying. His fake-out death at the Woodland Mansion is the kind of heroic send-off that the film immediately undercuts by having him reappear, completely fine, selling boxed copies of Block City Battle Buddies.

And yes, the movie ends with the gang defeating Malgosha using an Ender Pearl and a healthy dose of teamwork. But more than that, it ends with them returning home and finding purpose. Dawn opens her petting zoo, Natalie becomes a martial arts instructor, Garrett revitalises his shop with Steve in tow, and Henry finishes his jetpack. It’s a neatly tied bow, but one earned through a surprising amount of emotional and narrative investment.

Is A Minecraft Movie perfect? Absolutely not. The plot is a mess. The jokes land unevenly. The tone wobbles between Saturday morning cartoon and meta-commentary. But it has heart. It has a chaotic, beating, deeply committed heart. And that, in the age of algorithmic franchise filmmaking, feels like a minor miracle.

You don’t need to know Minecraft lore to enjoy it. You just need to know how to laugh at a diamond hoard, root for a dog named Dennis, and believe—if only for two hours—that anyone, even a doorknob salesman with a dream, can save the world one block at a time.