WRITTEN IN PLAIN AMERICAN ENGLISH.
About
CLAY TRIBUNE.
ShopCartAccount
Advertisement

Turning Red Review: Pixar’s Giant Red Panda Comedy Earns Its Disturbing Edge

A tale of a girl who turns into a monstrous beast within, a dread and tender chronicle of adolescence.

By mitch·8 min read
A girl's form begins to swell and shift into that of a monstrous red creature.

Turning Red is a Pixar film about growing up, and it turns that familiar idea into something genuinely strange. Mei Lee is a thirteen-year-old girl who transforms into a giant red panda whenever she feels strong emotion. That premise could be a joke, a metaphor, or a full-body nightmare. Director Domee Shi, who co-directed the Oscar-winning short Bao, chooses the nightmare route and commits to it fully. The result is a movie that is funny, tender, and occasionally genuinely disturbing, and it earns every one of those impulses.

The story follows Mei through her first year of high school in Toronto. Her mother, Meng, is overprotective, her father, Jin, is absent, and her older sister, Su, is a perfect student. Mei wants nothing more than to hang out with her friends, but her parents treat her like a child. Then the panda shows up. At first, it is a secret she can manage. Later, it is a monster she cannot control. The film asks a simple question: what if your body betrayed you at the worst possible moment? And then it answers it with a chase scene involving a shopping mall escalator.

Trailer, via Pixar.

Advertisement

Mei Lee and the Panda

Mei is the heart of the film. She is anxious, lonely, and deeply curious about the world outside her home. She wants to dance, to sing, to be noticed. She gets none of that. Her mother is constantly checking in on her, her father is too busy working, and her sister is too busy being perfect. The film spends a lot of time in Mei’s perspective, and that intimacy pays off. We feel her embarrassment, her joy, her panic. When she transforms, we see the world through her eyes, and it looks huge and terrifying.

The animation is extraordinary. Mei’s hair moves like water, her clothes stretch and ripple, and her face shifts from human to animal with a fluidity that is almost hypnotic. The red panda itself is a marvel of design. It is soft and cuddly, but also sharp and dangerous. Its claws are visible, its teeth are visible, and its movements are fast and unpredictable. The film does not hide the transformation. It shows it, in full, and it makes you wince.

Meng Lee and the Mother-Daughter Conflict

Meng is the other lead, and she is a mess. She is a single mother who works multiple jobs to support her family. She is exhausted, anxious, and deeply afraid of losing Mei. She does not mean to be controlling, but she is. She checks Mei’s phone, reads her messages, and forbids her from going anywhere alone. She is also deeply loving. She cooks Mei’s favorite meals, she tells her stories from her own childhood, and she cries when Mei leaves the house. The film does not let us choose sides. It makes both women sympathetic, and it makes their conflict painful to watch.

The relationship between Mei and Meng is the engine of the film. Every argument, every hug, every moment of silence carries weight. Meng’s fear is not abstract. It is specific. She is afraid of Mei growing up because she knows what comes next. She knows the world is cruel, and she wants to protect her daughter from it. Mei, on the other hand, wants to escape protection. She wants to make her own mistakes, to learn from them, to become a person on her own terms. The film does not resolve this conflict neatly. It ends with a compromise, but it does not pretend that the compromise fixes everything.

The Band and the Pop Music

The film is set in 2002, and it is obsessed with pop music. Mei listens to bands like 4 Non Blondes and The Cranberries, and she dreams of becoming a star herself. She joins a band called The Chong Sisters, and she performs at a local talent show. The performances are energetic and fun, and they give Mei a chance to express herself in ways her parents never understand. The songs are not original, but they are performed with genuine enthusiasm. They are also used to great effect in the climax, where the music becomes a weapon of sorts.

The band scenes are some of the best in the film. They are chaotic, joyful, and messy. Mei is not a natural performer. She stumbles, she forgets the lyrics, she loses her place. But she keeps going. That persistence is the point. The film is about finding your voice, even when it cracks. It is about making noise, even when it is not pretty. The band is not a subplot. It is the spine of the film.

The Monsters and the Escalator Chase

The monsters are the film’s horror element, and they are genuinely scary. They are big, hairy, and angry. They appear in crowds, in hallways, and in bedrooms. They are not supernatural. They are projections of Mei’s anxiety. The film makes this explicit, but it does not explain it away. The monsters exist in the world, and they attack Mei. The chase scene, in particular, is a masterpiece of tension. Mei runs through a crowded mall, pursued by a horde of monsters, while her friends try to help her. The scene is visually inventive, and it is genuinely tense.

The monsters are also a metaphor for adolescence. They represent the things that scare Mei: rejection, failure, change. They are the things she is trying to run from, and they are the things she has to face. The film does not offer an easy solution. It offers a way through. Mei learns to fight back, to scream, to push past the fear. The monsters do not disappear. They become manageable. That is a lesson many adults still struggle with.

The Setting and the Toronto Detail

The film is set in Toronto, and it is specific about it. It shows the city’s skyline, its parks, its neighborhoods. It names streets and landmarks. It captures the feeling of being a teenager in a big city. The film is not interested in a generic suburban America. It is interested in this place, now. That specificity is rare in animation, and it pays off. The city is a character in its own right, and it shapes the story in meaningful ways.

The setting also informs the cultural commentary. The film touches on immigrant families, on generational gaps, on the pressure to succeed. It does not hit you over the head with these themes. It shows them through the characters’ actions and conversations. Meng’s exhaustion is tied to her work, and her work is tied to her immigration. Mei’s desire to be free is tied to her identity. These connections are subtle, but they are there.

The Voice Cast and the Performance

The voice cast is excellent. Rosalie Chiang voices Mei, and she is remarkable. She brings a range of emotions to the role, from giggles to tears. She sounds like a real teenager, and she sells the transformation scenes completely. Sandra Oh voices Meng, and she brings a depth to the character that makes her fully human. She is not a villain. She is a mother doing her best. The supporting cast is strong, with Miki Yamashita as Su, James Hong as Jin, and Avi Nash as Mark Chen. The chemistry between the characters is real.

The film also features a cameo from a famous musician, who plays himself. The cameo is a surprise, and it lands well. It is a small moment, but it adds texture to the world. The film is full of these small details. They do not add to the plot, but they add to the world.

The Message and the Conclusion

The film’s message is simple: growing up hurts, but it is necessary. Mei has to learn to accept her feelings, to handle her anger, and to trust herself. She has to stop running from her problems and start facing them. The film does not sugarcoat this process. It shows the pain, the embarrassment, the confusion. But it also shows the growth. Mei becomes braver, kinder, and more honest. She learns to love her family, even when they drive her crazy.

The ending is bittersweet. Mei accepts her condition, and she decides to live with it. She does not cure it. She does not hide it. She lives with it. That is a powerful statement about acceptance. The film suggests that our flaws are not failures. They are part of who we are. We can work with them, not against them.

Turning Red is a film about change, and it changes itself along the way. It starts as a comedy, becomes a drama, and ends as a meditation. It is not perfect. Some of the middle sections drag, and the pacing is uneven. But the highs are high enough to carry the lows. It is a film that respects its audience, and it rewards attention.

The film is a triumph of storytelling. It takes a simple idea and builds a complex world around it. It is funny, scary, and moving. It is a film that will stay with you long after it ends.

  • The animation is extraordinary.
  • The music is infectious.
  • The monsters are genuinely scary.
  • The performances are superb.
  • The setting is specific and detailed.
The Notebook

Get the Notebook.

The day's best stories and every fresh verdict, in plain English, in your inbox by seven. One email a day, no more.

We send one note to confirm. Every issue has a one-click way out.

Film reviews
Advertisement

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

As an Amazon Associate, Clay Tribune earns from qualifying purchases.