‘Elio’ review: Pixar navigates the cosmos of childhood loneliness

A space-obsessed boy becomes Earth’s ambassador in Pixar’s Elio, a sincere return to form for the studio.

Here’s the thing about Elio: it’s not trying to make you cry. Not really. Sure, there’s grief baked into the story of an eleven-year-old boy whose parents are gone, living with an aunt who loves him but doesn’t quite know how to show it. But this isn’t Pixar coming for your tear ducts with a laser sword. This is Pixar remembering that sometimes the best way to move an audience is to stop trying so hard.

Yonas Kibreab voices Elio Solís with a naturalistic awkwardness that never pushes too much for laughs. He’s a kid so obsessed with space that he’s practically willing his own alien abduction into existence. When it finally happens—because of course it does in the movies—he gets mistaken for Earth’s ambassador to something called the Communiverse, which is basically a galactic UN but with more tentacles and fewer parliamentary procedures. Zoe Saldaña brings her usual warmth to Aunt Olga, but what’s impressive is how she lets the character’s uncertainty show through. This is a woman who knows how to lead soldiers but stumbles over bedtime stories. What follows is part diplomatic comedy, part coming-of-age story, and part tribute to every kid who ever felt like they belonged somewhere else entirely.

“Okay, come and get me.”

The directors—Domee Shi (Turning Red), Madeline Sharafian (Burrow), and Adrian Molina (Coco)—have made something that hits both a familiar and fresh tone. It’s familiar because it nails those classic Pixar notes: a misfit protagonist, a fantastical journey, and the realization that what you’re looking for might have been right in front of you all along. It’s fresh because it takes those basic messages and complicates them with more nuanced ideas, like the lengths a parent or guardian will go to truly “see” their child.

Let’s talk about what works. The Communiverse is gorgeous in all its organic curves and impossible architecture that looks like someone crossed the coral reef from Finding Nemo with the Citadel from Mass Effect. Harley Jessup’s production design creates immersive worlds and textures that feel lived-in despite being completely alien. When Elio walks through the diplomatic chambers, you believe this place has been hosting intergalactic bureaucracy for centuries, if not longer.

But it’s the animation itself that sells the illusion. Pixar’s character work here is some of their most expressive in years. Watch how Elio’s shoulders slump when he realizes he’s in over his head. Or how Olga’s military posture softens in private moments with her nephew. The alien designs avoid the trap of being either too cute or too grotesque. They’re genuinely otherworldly yet readable. There’s a sequence where Elio first sees the assembled diplomats that rivals the ballroom scene in Beauty and the Beast for sheer visual wonder.

“Your life isn’t up there, Elio.”

The character dynamics crackle with unexpected warmth, too. Brad Garrett’s Lord Grigon could have easily been just another generic villain. But there’s something almost pathetic about his fury at being excluded from the cool kids’ table. His relationship with his son Glordon (an anxious, armor-plated creature who becomes Elio’s unlikely friend) gives the film its much-needed emotional anchor. It’s about parents and their kids, sure, but it’s also about what happens when both parties are trying to live up to impossible expectations. The film also carries over a little of the “coming out” subtext that Pixar’s Luca did a bit more organically (and masterfully).

Now, what doesn’t quite work. The humor occasionally feels like it’s been focus-grouped for maximum iPad compatibility. It’s quick, hyperactive, and gone before you can really sink your teeth into it. There aren’t many big laughs here or clever jokes for adults, just a somewhat steady stream of mild chuckles that come across as attention-span-obligatory. And while the film clocks in at a lean 95 minutes, there are moments where the pacing feels rushed, like the screenplay has to check items off a list rather than let certain scenes breathe. Especially the resolution.

But here’s what Elio gets absolutely right: it knows that being Latino isn’t a plot point. Elio’s heritage exists in the margins of the story. In the way he speaks, in the family photos on Olga’s dresser, in the quiet moments between aunt and nephew. The film doesn’t patronize its representation; it just lets it exist. In 2025, that normalized restraint is almost radical in a strange way.

The bottom line.

Elio won’t be remembered as one of Pixar’s all-time greats. It’s not Wall-E or The Incredibles or pick your other favorite Pixar movie from before they started doing sequels every other year. But it’s something equally valuable: proof that Pixar can still make original stories that are genuinely surprising. After Lightyear‘s identity crisis and Elemental‘s well-meaning but clunky metaphors, Elio shows that the studio still has plenty to offer the next generation of film lovers, young and old. In many ways, it’s the full Pixar package.

The best compliment I can give Elio is that it doesn’t try to be anything other than itself. In a media landscape obsessed with franchise building and demographic targeting, that’s rarer than we want to accept. It’s weird, it’s sincere, and it’s unafraid to let an eleven-year-old boy dream of being somewhere else entirely. Sometimes that’s enough.

Elio opens in theaters on June 20. Watch the trailer here.

Images courtesy of Disney Pixar.  Read more articles by Jon Negroni here.