A Minecraft Movie

I watched A Minecraft Movie (2025) with the hope of encountering something that translated the limitless creativity of the game into a cinematic experience. What I found was a film that teeters between genuine charm and hollow spectacle, wavering with every pixelated step. Directed by Jared Hess — whose peculiar comedic sensibility in Napoleon Dynamite and Nacho Libre made him something of a cult figure — the film leans heavily into goofy humor and absurdist energy, crafting an aesthetic that at times borders on delightful chaos. Yet for all the kinetic sparkle and nostalgic nods, the story feels oddly stunted, as if unsure whether to embrace childlike wonder or submit to franchise formula.

From the very first frames, Hess makes clear this isn’t a grounded, emotionally resonant hero’s journey. Instead, we’re tossed into a kaleidoscopic world of Overworld adventures, Nether portals, and meme-fueled slapstick, where exposition is hurled at the audience with the subtlety of a creeper explosion. The film’s script — written by a crowded table of screenwriters — doesn’t trust its story to unfold organically. Instead, it rushes to explain lore, shoehorn character motivations, and cram the whimsical chaos of Minecraft into a traditionally structured, three-act blockbuster.

Amid the mayhem, Jack Black emerges as the film’s undeniable core. His performance is as loud, unfiltered, and committed as one would expect — a manic force of nature perfectly suited to this bizarre sandbox. Whether belting out original songs, flailing through battle scenes, or delivering lines with an impish glint in his eye, Black infuses the film with an infectious energy that often distracts from its narrative shortcomings. Jason Momoa, playing a lunkheaded, almost tragic caricature of a hero, provides an odd but compelling foil. He’s all brawn and misplaced bravado, but with enough self-deprecating awkwardness to keep his performance from collapsing under its own weight. Together, they share a chaotic chemistry that just about sustains the film when the story begins to unravel.

The supporting cast, however, isn’t given the same narrative generosity. Jennifer Coolidge makes the most of her limited screen time with her trademark breathy comedy, while Rachel House’s Nether-dwelling Malgosha exudes gravitas, albeit in frustratingly brief appearances. Meanwhile, younger actors like Emma Myers, Danielle Brooks, and Sebastian Hansen are reduced to exposition delivery systems, navigating pixelated worlds without much emotional depth or dramatic development. Their presence, like much of the film, feels designed to serve a brand rather than a story.

Visually, the film is a vibrant, candy-colored spectacle that captures the blocky whimsy of Minecraft with impressive fidelity. Biomes are rendered with detail and affection, and fans of the game will no doubt enjoy spotting piglins, creepers, and chicken jockeys scattered throughout the screen. But visual faithfulness can only carry so much weight when the narrative it supports feels cobbled together. Despite the dazzling effects and bursts of inspired set-pieces, there’s an unmistakable sense that the film is more interested in showcasing IP than cultivating meaning.

There’s one moment, though, that lingers. In the climax, a portal floats midair above a grand structure built by the protagonists — a gleaming monument to collective imagination. It’s here that the film almost becomes something greater: a story not just about adventure, but about what it means to build something together, across ages, across worlds. In that fleeting scene, the core spirit of Minecraft glimmers — not as a game, but as a philosophy.

Yet such moments are rare. Too often, the film falls back on lazy references, meme humor, and a pacing that sags in its second act. After a strong and frenetic opening, the middle of the film drifts, unsure of how to deepen its themes or even sustain its momentum. The emotional arcs, when they exist, are rushed and superficial. The ending tries to land a sense of earned triumph, but feels more like a prelude to inevitable sequels than a conclusion born from real growth.

What we’re left with is a movie that is occasionally fun, frequently frustrating, and unmistakably shaped by commercial calculation. It wants to appeal to kids, to families, to nostalgic gamers, to internet culture — and in trying to please everyone, it sometimes forgets to be anything at all. Still, for what it is, A Minecraft Movie offers bursts of fun, anchored by an unrelenting Jack Black performance and a visual style that embraces the absurdity of its source.

It’s not the best video game adaptation, not by a long shot. But it might be one of the weirdest, loudest, and most willing to laugh at itself. And in a genre that too often takes itself far too seriously, that might be enough for some.

A Minecraft Movie (2025 / USA)
Direction: Jared Hess
Screenplay: Chris Bowman, Hubbel Palmer, Allison Schroeder, Peter Sollett
Cast: Jack Black, Jason Momoa, Danielle Brooks, Emma Myers, Sebastian Hansen, Jennifer Coolidge, Rachel House
Running Time: 101 min.