Lilo, Stitch and the Gospel of Narcissism

Once again Disney has made a live-action remake of a beloved classic film, and once again their attempts to "update" the film for modern audiences has ruined the story altogether.

If you were to tell me that Disney has recently released a live-action remake of one of their animated classics, and then were to tell me that it’s an abomination against man and God that seems to have been written by particularly untalented aliens, my answer would be “Why did you just say the same thing twice?”

Modern Disney is no longer the House of the Mouse; it is a snake eating its own tail.

And the sad part is that they’re mostly being rewarded for it. Audiences full of nostalgia and lacking in taste flock to hand over good money to see toxic trash on the grounds that it bears a superficial resemblance to a great film they could have watched at home for about the price of a sandwich. Such is the world we live in.

It would not be worth talking about the remake of Lilo and Stitch at all if it weren’t for a specific change made in the new version that highlights a more serious point of cultural decline.

Alas that we don’t have time to go into 2002’s Lilo and Stitch in detail. It is almost indisputably the best Disney animated film of the decade, and indeed a strong contender among the entire post-Walt canon, as it skillfully combines satirical space opera with kitchen-sink drama, all hung together with Elvis songs.

The story, in brief, goes that Stitch, an illegal alien bioweapon (essentially a bullet-proof, super-strong koala programmed to destroy everything he touches) crash-lands on the island of Kauai, where he hides from the authorities sent to capture him by getting himself adopted by an eccentric little girl named Lilo, who is adjusting to being under the guardianship of her teenage sister (Nani) following the death of their parents in a car crash. Forced to curb his violent tendencies to maintain his cover, Stitch begins to learn the meaning of family (or ‘ohana’) and tries to change himself for the better.

One of the many elements that help to make the film so good is its depiction of Nani’s efforts to maintain custody of Lilo. The movie is mature enough to show the hardships of a teenager suddenly thrust into a parental role, such as her difficulty in getting Lilo to respect her authority, and her struggles to find and maintain a job while keeping the house in something resembling order. All of which she must do under the stern eye of an intimidating social worker named “Cobra Bubbles” (an absolutely brilliantly conceived character who is predictably butchered in the remake).

The original film not only skillfully shows the struggles and sacrifices that Nani makes, but also her motivation for doing so. Namely, she wants to keep their “little and broken” family together, and she fears for what her oddball sister might have to endure under the care of anyone who doesn’t understands her as well as she does (illustrated by numerous small exchanges throughout the film, like when Nani hastily waves off the pet adoption clerk when she’s about to dismiss the name ‘Stitch’). It’s a heartwarming and intensely admirable storyline that honestly wouldn’t have been out of place in a film aimed at adults.

In the remake, on the other hand, Nani is still the struggling breadwinner and homemaker, but the new film tries to make the case that this is wrong of her; that she is not actually capable of fulfilling these roles, and that in so doing so she is “leaving herself behind” by abandoning the opportunity to go to college. The film ends with Lilo encouraging Nani to give up trying to be her guardian, to leave her in the care of a neighbor, and to go off and pursue her Marine Biology degree.

Any readers who have seen the original should probably be furious right now.

You see, in the minds of the kind of creatures who write these remakes, Nani’s original character does not make sense. She is not admirable, she is stunted; deprived. For how can she be a Strong Female Character (and we know that she must be a Strong Female Character) if she doesn’t do the things a Strong Female Character is supposed to do: get a STEM degree, pursue a career, and so on? How can she be admirable or worthy of imitation if she doesn’t do anything that is considered ‘important’?

Because make no mistake, these writers do not think that raising a child is important. They do not think that self-sacrifice is admirable. They would have no comprehension of the idea that a college degree – or any other such officially sanctioned ‘achievement’ – is valueless compared to being the kind of person Nani is in the original.

This is the decay we have experienced over the past twenty-three years. In 2002 Disney still understood this; or at least was able to pretend that they did. In 2025 the idea is now completely alien to them.

In short, what is valued in our entertainment is no longer love, but narcissism; that is, putting yourself first, seeking praise and validation for yourself. And those who really love you, the narrative goes, would want you to do that. Your six-year-old orphaned sister will be fine living in foster care so that her one remaining family member can pursue a piece of paper telling her how important she is. Because, as the message goes, you shouldn’t leave yourself behind.

And it is not just the new Lilo and Stitch or Disney that does this; if you look, you’ll find the gospel of narcissism preached from just about every corner of the mainstream western entertainment industry. This one-to-one reversal of a classic film, however, makes for a stark illustration of how far we have fallen.

Do not waste your money or your time going to see the new Lilo and Stitch. Instead, get hold of the original and remind yourself what quality family entertainment actually looks like.

Photo Credits- Screen Rant, The Wrap, Disney Australia and The Tab.