Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken

In the summer of 2023, while everyone was losing their minds over the pink-hued existentialism of Barbie or the grim atomic weight of Oppenheimer, a small, neon-colored rebellion was happening at the bottom of the ocean. DreamWorks, the studio that basically built its brand on poking the Disney bear with a sharp stick, decided to release Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken. It was a move of pure corporate chaos: Disney had just released their live-action The Little Mermaid, and DreamWorks responded by making the mermaid a sociopathic high school mean girl and the "monster" kraken a lovable dork in a hoodie.

I caught this one on a rainy Tuesday afternoon while procrastinating on a plumbing repair, and I was genuinely surprised by how much I dug its "anti-Ariel" energy. My left sock kept sliding off my heel every time I shifted on the couch, which was annoying, but the film’s vibrant, bioluminescent palette kept my eyes glued to the screen. It’s a film that feels distinctly now—it’s fast, it’s self-aware, and it treats the "secret identity" trope with the frantic energy of a teenager trying to hide a massive zit before prom.

Subverting the Scales

The heart of the story is Lana Condor’s Ruby, a mathlete living in a seaside town who thinks she’s just a "human" from Canada (a classic cover story for anything weird). Lana Condor brings that same endearing, flustered charm she mastered in To All the Boys I've Loved Before, making Ruby’s transition from awkward teen to 300-foot-tall sea guardian feel surprisingly grounded.

But the real spice comes from Annie Murphy as Chelsea Van Der Zee, the new girl in school who is—spoiler alert, though the trailer gave it away months in advance—a mermaid. Annie Murphy channels a lethal dose of her "Alexis Rose" energy here, playing Chelsea with a hair-flipping, manipulative "Bestie!" vibe that makes her the perfect foil. Mermaids have had it too good for too long in pop culture, and seeing them portrayed as narcissistic apex predators is a refreshing pivot from the wide-eyed innocence we usually get.

The family dynamic is where the movie finds its rhythm. Toni Collette as Ruby’s mom, Agatha, is a frantic real estate agent trying to keep her family’s secret under wraps, while the legendary Jane Fonda voices the Grandmamah with a regal, slightly terrifying authority. It’s a multi-generational "coming of age" story wrapped in a kaiju-sized package.

Timing is a Harsh Mistress

So, why haven't you heard more about this? To put it bluntly: it tanked. Hard. With a $70 million budget, it only clawed back about $46 million globally. In the era of franchise saturation, Ruby Gillman was a "mid-budget" original IP released in the middle of a crowded summer. It was the cinematic equivalent of trying to sell lemonade at a construction site—noble effort, but everyone was distracted by the heavy machinery.

The animation itself is a departure from the painterly, high-art style of DreamWorks' own Puss in Boots: The Last Wish. Instead, it opts for a "squash and stretch" look that feels like a high-end Saturday morning cartoon. Everything is curvy and fluid, mirroring the underwater setting. The comedy leans heavily into the absurd, particularly whenever Sam Richardson’s Uncle Brill is on screen. Sam Richardson has a way of delivering lines that feel like he’s just as confused as the audience, and his chemistry with the rest of the Gillman clan provides the film's funniest, most low-stakes moments.

The Weirdness of the Deep

One of the more interesting "Contemporary Cinema" footnotes here is the marketing. DreamWorks basically revealed the entire third-act twist in the first teaser trailer. It felt like a studio panicking, trying to convince parents that "No, really, it’s a superhero movie too!" It’s a shame, because the film’s best jokes—like Will Forte’s Gordon Lighthouse, a sailor who is convinced he’s in a much more serious maritime tragedy—work better when they're allowed to sneak up on you.

There’s a specific kind of joy in these "forgotten" DreamWorks projects. They aren't trying to change the face of cinema; they’re trying to make you laugh while delivering a solid message about generational trauma and the importance of not hiding who you are (even if who you are involves glowing tentacles). It’s also a fascinating look at the "streaming era" transition—even though it had a theatrical run, it felt like it was destined for the "New Releases" row on a streaming app, where it has thankfully found a second life among kids who didn't care about the Barbenheimer hype.

Ultimately, Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken is a vibrant, slightly messy, but thoroughly charming "B-side" from a major studio. It doesn’t have the emotional depth of Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, nor does it have the legacy of the films it's parodying, but it has a massive heart and some truly inspired visual gags. If you’re looking for a 91-minute escape that prioritizes fun over franchise-building, Ruby’s world is well worth a dive. Just watch out for the mermaids—they’re not as nice as the songs suggest.