Luck

I watched Luck on a Tuesday afternoon while my neighbor was power-washing his driveway. The rhythmic thrum-whoosh of the water outside perfectly matched the high-energy, slightly mechanical pacing of this film. It’s a movie that feels like it was assembled by a very expensive, very efficient machine—one that was programmed to produce "Charm" but occasionally defaulted to "Complicated Logistics."

Released in 2022 as the flagship feature for Skydance Animation’s partnership with Apple TV+, Luck arrived with a heavy suitcase of industry baggage. It was the first major project under the creative leadership of John Lasseter after his high-profile exit from Pixar, and you can feel that DNA in every frame. It’s bright, it’s bouncy, and it’s obsessed with the "how" of its magical world. But in the crowded landscape of the streaming wars, where every platform is desperate for its own Toy Story, Luck feels like a polished curiosity that slipped through the cracks of the cultural zeitgeist almost as soon as it premiered.

The Machine of Misfortune

The story follows Sam, voiced with an endearing, breathless energy by Eva Noblezada. Sam is the unluckiest person in the world, a foster kid who has just aged out of the system and moved into her first apartment. Her life is a symphony of jammed keys, dropped toast, and locked bathrooms. When she encounters a mysterious black cat and finds a lucky penny, her fortunes flip—until she accidentally flushes the coin down a toilet.

What follows is a classic "portal" adventure. Sam follows the cat, Bob (Simon Pegg, doing a delightful Scottish lilt), into the Land of Luck. This is where the film really flexes its contemporary tech muscles. The animation is stunning, full of iridescent surfaces and complex moving parts. The Land of Luck is a literal factory, a bureaucratic wonderland where luck is manufactured, polished, and sent down to the human world.

I found myself marveling at the production design, but also slightly exhausted by it. It’s a Rube Goldberg machine made of pure anxiety. Every time Sam tries to fix a problem, she creates three more logistical hurdles that require a specific magical MacGuffin to solve. It’s the kind of world-building that values "how the elevator works" over "how the characters feel," which is a very specific hallmark of late-era franchise animation.

A Dragon, a Captain, and a Scottish Cat

The cast is doing a lot of heavy lifting to keep the heart beating amidst all the gears and levers. Simon Pegg is the standout; his chemistry with Eva Noblezada provides the film’s best moments. Bob the cat is cynical, self-serving, and eventually soft-hearted—the exact kind of companion you want in a fantasy trek.

Then there’s the sheer oddity of the supporting cast. Jane Fonda voices a giant, pink, sparkle-covered Dragon who runs the operation, while Whoopi Goldberg plays the Captain of security. Watching a legendary Oscar winner voice a dragon that smells like vanilla and obsesses over "good vibes" is the kind of surreal streaming-era experience I’ve come to expect. It’s fun, but it also feels like the film is checking off a "Legendary Voice Talent" bingo card rather than finding roles that truly suit them.

The adventure itself is brisk. Sam and Bob’s journey through the "In-Between" and the Land of Bad Luck (which, honestly, looks like a much chillier place to hang out) keeps the momentum high. Director Peggy Holmes knows how to stage a chase sequence, and the film never stays in one place long enough for a five-year-old to get bored.

The Lasseter Shadow and the Streaming Shuffle

It’s impossible to talk about Luck without acknowledging why it feels a bit "forgotten" despite its massive budget and star power. The production was mired in controversy; Emma Thompson famously walked away from the role of the Captain (eventually taken by Goldberg) because she didn’t want to work with Lasseter. This created a cloud of discourse that overshadowed the actual movie during its release.

In the 2020s, the way we consume these films has changed. Luck didn't get a massive theatrical rollout; it was dropped onto Apple TV+ amidst a sea of other content. Without the "event" feel of a cinema release, these mid-tier animated adventures often live or die by social media word-of-mouth. While Luck is perfectly pleasant, it lacks that one "viral" moment or groundbreaking emotional hook (think the opening of Up or the "We Don't Talk About Bruno" phenomenon) to keep it in the conversation.

It’s a "nice" movie. It tells us that bad luck is necessary because it teaches us how to pivot and grow. It’s a solid message, delivered in a gorgeous package, even if it feels a bit like a Pixar B-side. It’s the kind of film you put on for the kids and find yourself actually watching because the cat is funny and the colors are pretty.

Luck is a testament to the high floor of modern animation—even the "forgotten" ones look spectacular and feature top-tier voice work. It’s a whimsical, over-engineered adventure that works best when it stops explaining its magical physics and just lets Simon Pegg be a grumpy cat. It won't change your life, but it’s a perfectly charming way to spend 105 minutes while your neighbor ruins the peace and quiet with a power-washer.