Roald Dahl’s stories have always been a twisted delight, but Netflix’s animated adaptation of The Twits takes a sharp turn from grossly generic to surprisingly political—and it’s a move that’s as bold as it is divisive. But here’s where it gets controversial: while Dahl’s 1980 novel reveled in its icky, beard-hating, gross-out humor, this adaptation dares to mirror modern-day politics in a way that’s impossible to ignore. Let’s dive in.
As a kid, I was more of a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory enthusiast, but I couldn’t help but notice the peculiar appeal of The Twits. The story of a cruel, slovenly couple and their captive magical monkeys was always a bit too sordid for my taste, yet it had a certain charm. Fast forward to 2025, and Netflix’s version—directed by Phil Johnston, known for family-friendly hits like Wreck-It Ralph and Zootopia—has transformed this tale into something far more provocative. And this is the part most people miss: it’s not just a kids’ movie; it’s a thinly veiled allegory for Trumpism.
The film opens with the Twits, voiced by Margo Martindale and Johnny Vegas, in all their slime-covered, prank-pulling glory. They’re as seedy as ever, running a health-code-violating amusement park and terrorizing local children. But the real twist? The citizens of their gloomy city, Triperot, don’t see them as villains. Instead, they rally behind the Twits’ false promises of revitalization, echoing the maddening collective derangement of the past decade. Is it too on-the-nose? Or is it a genius move? You decide.
The addition of two orphan kids, Beesha (Maitreyi Ramakrishnan) and Bubsy (Ryan Lopez), gives the film a generic kiddie-movie feel, as if Netflix feared Dahl’s original story wasn’t relatable enough. Yet, it’s these characters who ultimately challenge the Twits’ rise to power, mirroring the real-world struggle against toxic narratives. The film’s message of empathy, chosen family, and standing up to deceit is undeniably timely—but it’s the political undertones that make it unforgettable.
Visually, The Twits falls short compared to Disney or DreamWorks, with a grimy aesthetic that feels more cheap than intentional. The original songs by David Byrne are forgettable, and the animation ages poorly. But here’s the thing: none of that seems to matter when the film’s moral argument is so strong. Alan Tudyk’s performance as Sweet Toed Toad is delightfully oddball, and Natalie Portman’s voice work as one of the magical monkeys is charming. Even the sentient hairballs—yes, you read that right—are oddly endearing.
What’s most striking is how a film that initially feels minor and forgettable suddenly becomes a conversation starter. Critics might accuse it of liberal bias or ‘Twits Derangement Syndrome,’ but the film doesn’t shy away from its stance. Is it a stretch to compare the Twits to real-world figures? Or is it a necessary mirror for our times? Let’s debate it in the comments.
In the end, The Twits is more than just a Dahl adaptation—it’s a bold statement about the power of storytelling to reflect our world, warts and all. Whether you love it or hate it, one thing’s for sure: you won’t forget it anytime soon.
