Phil Johnston’s The Twits is far from a typical children’s film. Based on Roald Dahl’s beloved 1980 novel, this 2025 Netflix animated adaptation dives headfirst into outrageous gross-out humor balanced with biting social satire.
Mr. and Mrs. Twit, voiced by Johnny Vegas and Margo Martindale, are proud tricksters who rail against government rules and flaunt their disregard for the environment during a time when communities face economic hardship and instability.
Set in the once-thriving town of Triperot, the Twits dream of resurrecting the place’s lost glory by opening a bizarre amusement park named Twitlandia. However, the park’s immediate condemnation for structural and sanitary failures sets off a chaotic chain of events.
The duo retaliates with mischief that floods the town with neon-green, radioactive, liquid hot dog meat, literally mucking the streets and throwing the town into havoc. This act of revenge and greed displays their indulgent vengeance, underscoring the film’s core critique of people who exploit society’s cracks for selfish gain.
Though outwardly a goofy, slapstick comedy heavy on fart jokes and absurd pranks, The Twits carries a deeper message about the corrosive effects of cruelty, greed, and political manipulation, making it more than a mere children’s story.
Instead, it becomes an allegory on modern-day selfishness and corruption that divides communities while rare acts of empathy struggle to survive.
The Twits: Grifters and Villains with a Wink
Mr. and Mrs. Twit are completely unredeemable, even reveling in their nastiness. Their relentless pranks on one another reveal a toxic marriage built on spite and pettiness, while their schemes to dominate Triperot through Twitlandia show reckless selfishness.
Voiced with perfect cantankerous humor by Vegas and Martindale, these characters embody the worst traits of those who exploit systems for fun and profit.
The Twits’ antics escalate from petty tricks to full-blown attacks on the town, including intentionally contaminating the water supply with explosive hot dog meat goo, an act that leaves innocence disrupted and the community in chaos.
Their courage to openly admit and even brag about their wrongdoing is unsettling, evoking disturbing parallels to real-world figures who shamelessly defy public welfare for personal gain.
Their adversaries in this story are not only the righteous townsfolk but also two orphans, Beesha (Maitreyi Ramakrishnan) and Bubsy (Ryan Anderson Lopez), whose courage and kindness weave through the narrative.
The Twits, in stark contrast, are proud champions of chaos, empowered by their followers despite their harm. Their bid to run for mayor highlights the dangerous popularity of divisive agitators in politics, making the film’s satire pointed and timely.
The Power of the Orphans and the Muggle-Wumps
Beesha and Bubsy offer a heartfelt antagonist to the Twits’ cruelty. As orphans with a belief in justice and change, they represent hope and innocence amid the film’s darker themes.
Their quest to challenge the Twits’ destructive influence is bolstered by the magical creatures known as the Muggle-Wumps, a family of upside-down monkeys once prisoners of the Twits.
The Muggle-Wumps personify the abused and silenced. Kept in a cage and exploited to power the amusement park, their plight reveals the cost of the Twits’ greed. Beesha’s ability to empathize with these creatures unlocks a rare connection, encouraging viewers to consider the importance of compassion toward the vulnerable.
The animated interactions between children and creatures add warmth to a story loaded with mischief and malice.

The Twits (Credit: Netflix)
Despite moments of slapstick and silliness, the narrative never loses its emotional core. The kids’ bravery and determination to free the Muggle-Wumps and expose the Twits’ schemes bring a sense of justice and triumph.
This opposition also fuels the film’s “prank war” escalation, creating a chaotic but ultimately hopeful battle between cruelty and care.
Animation, Humor, and Deeper Meanings
Animated by Jellyfish Pictures, The Twits strikes a distinct tone that mixes the tactile charm of stop-motion and bold character design reminiscent of Aardman Studios. The visuals amplify the film’s grotesque humor but also its personality, delivering quirky and exaggerated characters that entertain both children and adults.
The soundtrack, featuring music by David Byrne and Hayley Williams, flirts with whimsy but feels occasionally forgettable compared to the energetic visuals.
Nonetheless, the film thrives on its humor, ranging from sophisticated satire to delightfully juvenile fart jokes, maintaining a lively, laugh-out-loud pace that acknowledges its young audience without underestimating their capacity for understanding complex messages.
Though it can bog down in the latter half with episodic retaliation sequences, The Twits trusts its audience. It grapples with themes of mob mentality, political ambition born from selfishness, and the resilience required to face those who wield cruelty as power.
The movie’s refusal to shy away from less polished humor, including revolting and pranking behavior, underscores its faith in children’s enjoyment of the absurd and grotesque as well as their ability to grasp social critique beneath it.
A Bold Adaptation with a Balanced Message
Phil Johnston’s longtime affection for Roald Dahl’s unrepentant miscreants shines through in this film. While some critics note it is not without flaws, including pacing issues and a sometimes unrelenting focus on gross humor, the story’s sharp observations offer unexpected depth.
It challenges its viewers to recognize real “twits”: those who exploit divisions and use cruelty to maintain control.
In the story’s final moments, the film gently warns that hatred is easy and warns young audiences against letting bitterness consume them. Beesha’s resilience embodies the film’s true heart: the courage to maintain empathy and kindness even in a world rife with selfishness.
Sometimes, a well-timed fart joke is enough to remind us that humor and hope can coexist with harder truths.
The Twits is an unusual but thoughtful blend of lowbrow fun and highbrow ideas, making it a lively watch for families who want a mix of laughs and a dose of social reflection. It stands out as one of the cleverest animated films of the year, proving that even the nastiest twits can teach us something worth remembering.
When The Black Phone hit theaters in 2021, it quickly earned praise for its tense storytelling and eerie premise centered around a sinister serial killer known as The Grabber.
The film’s chilling climax, where Mason Thames’ Finney finally escapes, seemed to close the book on this dark tale. So, when the announcement of Black Phone 2 followed, many questioned why the story needed further continuation.
Director Scott Derrickson and co-writer C. Robert Cargill answered with a sequel that pushes the story forward a few years from the original. While Finney survives and wrestles with trauma, it’s his sister Gwen (Madeleine McGraw) who increasingly takes center stage.
Her budding psychic abilities connect her to the lingering horrors of the Grabber as supernatural forces begin to exceed typical ghost story boundaries.
The setting moves from the claustrophobic basement to the snowy isolation of Alpine Lake winter camp. Against this chilling backdrop, the film explores how The Grabber’s evil transcends death, haunting new victims and those connected to the past.
The film’s aesthetic cleverly nods to ‘80s horror classics, mixing modern visual storytelling with grainy Super 8-style dream sequences that heighten tension and mystery.
Gwen and Finney: Evolving Through Trauma
This sequel shifts much of the narrative focus to Gwen, a young woman now grappling with her psychic powers and the mounting dread of an evil force reaching through time and spirit.
Madeleine McGraw brings a raw and fiery intensity to Gwen’s character, balancing vulnerability with fierce determination. Her connection to The Grabber deepens the film’s mythology and personalizes the horror.
Meanwhile, Mason Thames returns as Finney, still bearing emotional scars from his harrowing ordeal. His subplot provides a grounded perspective on trauma and the struggle to regain normalcy after horror.
While Finney’s role isn’t as central, his presence strengthens the story’s continuity, tying the supernatural threat back to human resilience.
Supporting them is a cast that includes new characters like Gwen’s boyfriend Ernesto (Miguel Mora) and the enigmatic Camp Alpine supervisor Mando, portrayed by Demián Bichir with steady menace. These voices enrich the tension and provide fresh dynamics as the characters unravel The Grabber’s lingering dark influence.
Balancing Myth Expansion with Fresh Threats
Black Phone 2 walks a challenging line. On one hand, it successfully expands the mythology of The Grabber, explaining his deeper chilling legacy and the ways his power continues to manifest through psychic phenomena. This adds layers missing from the first film, turning the story into a multi-generational confrontation with evil.
On the other hand, that expanded lore sometimes weighs the film down. The movie’s adherence to Gwen and Finney’s emotional journey can feel limiting, as it leans heavily on familiar horror tropes about confronting past trauma, nostalgia for the ‘80s, and visions of hellish dreamscapes reminiscent of Nightmare on Elm Street.
Some plot developments and dialogue risk feeling predictable, hindering the film’s momentum.
Still, sequences like Gwen’s eerie visions, the haunting presence of The Grabber in dreams, and tension-filled action scenes like Ethan Hawke’s chilling return as the masked villain deliver solid scares and suspense.

Black Phone 2 (Credit: Universal Pictures)
The film’s rich visuals, including inventive camera work during dream sequences and a vivid snowy setting, create an immersive atmosphere of dread and isolation.
Ethan Hawke as The Grabber: A Lingering Threat
Ethan Hawke’s return as the terrifying Grabber is both a highlight and a source of frustration. While his screen time is limited compared to the first film, his portrayal maintains the chilling menace that made him iconic.
Hawke’s commitment lends weight and complexity to a villain who now seems less a physical force and more a spectral, psychological tormentor.
The Grabber’s evolving abilities to haunt dreams and influence characters from beyond the grave showcase the film’s willingness to stretch traditional horror boundaries. Yet, this shift also diminishes Hawke’s corporeal presence, sometimes undercutting the immediate terror he wielded previously.
Regardless, the scenes where Hawke’s Grabber bursts into unhinged violence remain memorable, blending grounded horror with moments of unsettling surrealism. These chilling highlights anchor the film’s scarier moments and provide a reason for horror fans to stay engaged.
A Sequel That Delivers, But With Questions
While Black Phone 2 builds on its predecessor’s foundations with fresh ideas and strong performances, it invites debate about the necessity of its existence. Does the story need a sequel? The answer isn’t straightforward.
The film makes a solid case for continuing the saga, expanding mythology, and developing its central characters with care. Yet, its reliance on familiar horror motifs and moments of narrative sluggishness leaves audiences wondering if it truly surpasses the original’s impact.
The movie thrives when it leans into its supernatural chill and atmospheric visuals but falters when trying too hard to tie up emotional arcs or explain its lore. For some viewers, this balancing act may feel uneven, but it also reflects the inherent challenge in crafting sequels that respect their origin while pushing new boundaries.
Ultimately, Black Phone 2 offers a worthy experience for fans who appreciated the original’s mix of tense horror and character-driven drama. Its potent scares, visual inventiveness, and strong performances make it a solid entry in modern supernatural horror.
For newcomers, it may serve as a creepy, atmospheric thriller, though the full emotional resonance comes from knowing the first film.