‘The Twits’ (2025) Netflix Movie Review - A Messy, Mischievous, and Occasionally Muddled Ride

Watching The Twits (2025) on Netflix felt like diving headfirst into a cartoon gutter: you can’t deny it has energy, odd humour, bold character work, and wild visuals, but at the same time, you could wish for more coherence and fewer gross-out gags. I’m speaking as someone who’s studied animated storytelling and children’s adaptations, so I reveled in many of its strengths even while shaking my head at some of its missteps.

Right from the opening, we meet the central villains, Mr. Twit (voiced by Johnny Vegas) and Mrs. Twit (voiced by Margo Martindale). Their dynamic, hateful, prank-filled, undignified behavior is the backbone of the film. The new setup has them operating a disastrously disgusting amusement park called “Twitlandia” in a city called Triperot (yes, the film swings big). They’re awful people doing awful, hilarious things: from vile pranks to cartoon-style cruelty, to ambitious power grabs. That’s all, exactly what one would expect from the characters inspired by Roald Dahl’s original book.

Into their story are thrown two orphans: Beesha (voiced by Maitreyi Ramakrishnan) and her friend Bubsy (voiced by Ryan Lopez). They discover the Twits’ manipulations, team up with the captive monkey family, the Muggle-Wumps (with voices by Natalie Portman and Timothy Simons), fight back, and attempt to free the animals and the city from the Twits’ ill-fated park and mayoral ambitions.

The strongest thing about the film is its commitment to being weird — gloriously weird. The animation style from Jellyfish Pictures has fun with texture, proportions, and tone: the Twits themselves are grotesque in a way that pays tribute to Dahl without playing it safe. The voice performances are excellent: Martindale brings just enough gravelly disdain to Mrs. Twit, Vegas gives Mr. Twit a vicious gleam beneath the comedic surface, and the kids’ voices bring sincerity. The musical choices, notably songs by David Byrne and an end-credit track with Hayley Williams, elevate the production beyond standard kiddie fare.

In terms of character arcs, the children serve as moral anchors: Beesha’s longing for family, her courage in facing the Twits, and Bubsy’s belief in adoption add emotional heft. The monkeys’ story offers a parallel of captivity and liberation. And the Twits themselves, usually caricatures of meanness, are given slightly more space than the original book allowed, playing with power, politics, and revenge. In short, there’s more story here, and when it works, it does. One sequence where the Twits decide to run for mayor is unexpectedly timely and adds a satire of power that I found smart. (Yes, even a children’s animation can throw shade at corrupt leaders.)

That said, and here’s where the negative part indeed comes in — the movie stumbles in several ways. First: pacing. Because the original book is basically a series of pranks rather than a full narrative structure, the filmmakers expanded the story substantially and added new characters and subplots (orphans, mayoral elections, the Muggle-Wumps in hiding). The result is at times over-stuffed and uneven: some scenes feel tacked on, others drag, and the tonal shifts from dark humour to earnest sentiment feel a little awkward. The film occasionally flattens Dahl’s sharper edge in favour of a broader message of empathy, which, while sweet, slightly blunts the satire.
Secondly, the gross-out humour borders on excess. Wormy spaghetti, meat floods, bodily fluids, disgusting rides, yes, they’re meant to be grotesque and fun, but at moments the film feels less clever than it is determined to shock or squirm the viewer. The charm of Dahl’s original is a certain balance of nasty and clever; here, I sometimes felt the nastiness overwhelmed the narrative’s wit. There’s a fine line between grossly funny and just gross, and The Twits occasionally leaps gleefully across it.

Third, the Americanisation and localisation choices may alienate purists. The Twits’ setting has shifted significantly, and while that by itself isn’t a fatal flaw, the cultural tone becomes inconsistent: some jokes play out like straight-up slapstick, others aim for sharper satire, and the blend doesn’t always hold together. A line of dialogue might feel like a kid’s cartoon moment, followed immediately by political commentary that might be better suited to older viewers. The target demographic ends up ambiguous: is this for little kids, older kids, or adults who grew up on Dahl? The film tries to aim at all three and occasionally lands between them.

Still, these flaws don’t overshadow the fact that this is a fun-to-look-at, imaginative film with genuine production values. The direction by Phil Johnston (who also co-wrote) shows ambition: he isn’t just adapting the book, he’s re-imagining it, which means there are surprises. The writing (with Meg Favreau) has plenty of laughs, smart bits of character interplay, and moments of genuine tension. The cinematography and animation, rather than live-action, give the movie room to be ridiculous, which it embraces. For example, the Twits’ home looks like a twisted funhouse, the amusement park sequences lean into mechanical mayhem, and the visual transitions from nasty prank to political spiral to redemption arc are carefully staged.

What makes the film especially effective is its secret heart. Beneath the grime and shrieking monkeys is a message about the importance of kindness, community, and the power of choice. Beesha’s emotional realisation that family can be found, the Muggle-Wumps’ desire not to internalise cruelty, they all hit deceptively hard for a children’s feature. And yes, I applauded the courage to give children, not just the adults in the story, agency to challenge villainy. The movie doesn’t simply throw in a villain defeat and end; it lets the orphans, the animals, and the formerly captive find their own voice. That aspect felt like smart storytelling rather than cheap adaptation.

In the end, I came away entertained. I laughed at the trips of the Twits, I cringed at the abundance of revolting rides and pranks, I smiled at the friendship between Beesha and Bubsy, and I felt a little proud that the monkeys finally got their chance. If I were recommending it, I’d say: this is a solid family-animation pick for households willing to tolerate a bit of grossness and uneven tone. But if you are expecting a flawless adaptation of Dahl’s book with razor-sharp wit and consistently tight pacing, you might find yourself wishing it had trimmed some detours and dialled back some of the shock value.

So yes: quirky, wild, somewhat messy, but in a world of safe kids’ features, it stands out. If you’re ready for a mischievous ride through Twitlandia, join the orphans, cheer for the monkeys, and prepare to grimace a few times. The Twits might not be perfect, but it certainly isn’t boring, and for that, I count it a win.

Final Score- [7.5/10]
Reviewed by - Anjali Sharma
Follow @AnjaliS54769166 on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times