Why the live-action Moana is more than just another remake

Does Disney's live-action remake of "Moana" need to exist? Fans and critics have questioned the remake. Some have called it unnecessary, with one describing it as a "cashgrab." A New York Times reviewer said the new version "has nothing to add to the original," while an Associated Press film critic called it a "purposeless remake." They also point out that the original animated movie, released in 2016, was already a global hit, while "Moana 2," released in 2024, made over $1 billion worldwide.

But there's a major point that these critiques miss. The film showcases the work of hundreds of Pacific Islanders - actors, dancers, weavers, navigators, tattoo artists and cultural experts - and brings them to life. It offers a more tangible, powerful form of representation, allowing Pacific Islanders to see their cultures, traditions and themselves reflected by real people on screen.

Where some viewers may only see a shot-for-shot replica of the original film, I see the intricate details of the Samoan ceremonial headdresses, the traditional architecture of the fale (houses) and the group of women beating wauke (bark from a paper mulberry tree) into tapa cloth. I see the traditional hand-tapping art of tattooing being practiced. I see dancers whose precise movements reflect years of training and practice, something the animation tries to portray but cannot fully replicate.  

"Seeing a cast full of Polynesian people, and not just people who are cast to look and act like us, but people who are cast to be us and be allowed to be … that was super eye-opening," dancer and cultural practitioner Jade-Len Makana Kaanoalii Taimalietane Iulio told SFGATE. The director of a Polynesian dance group in Alameda, Iulio was one of the principal dancers in the live-action movie, and the only one selected from the Bay Area.

"We are already a proud people, but it kind of instilled just a new layer or a new sense of pride in what we do and what we are," she said.

The great attention to detail was seen throughout the production. Tongan costume designer Liz McGregor, who is based in New Zealand, researched museum collections across New Zealand and Samoa before creating more than 2,000 unique handcrafted garments for the film. Moana's garments, for instance, incorporated handmade tapa with culturally significant designs.

"We also designed the trim for her skirt," McGregor said in the production's notes. "It's completely handwoven and handmade by an incredible artist, Rowan Panther, so it's very unique to this film."

Pacific artisans also handwove Maui's ti leaf skirts. Samoan tattoo expert Sua Peter Suluape contributed his knowledge of traditional tattooing, and designed Maui's lower body tattoo. Suluape was on Disney's cultural trust, a panel of consultants and experts who advised throughout production.

On the fictional island of Motunui, the fale weren't made with nails or modern-day construction equipment. Instead, they were constructed from thousands of yards of lashing made with coconut fibers, with help from Tongan master lasher Sopolemalama Filipe Tohi.

"He is unbelievable. Our director even put him in the movie," the set designer said in the studio's production notes. "There's an absolutely wonderful scene with Filipe teaching the tradition of artistic lashing to Moana. It literally brought me to tears, watching that scene."

Similarly, I felt an overwhelming sense of joy and pride watching Apple TV's "Chief of War," starring Jason Momoa, and seeing Hawaiian history portrayed with such authenticity on a major streaming platform. For cultures that have long been distorted and reduced to exaggerated, stereotyped imagery, it's deeply moving to see the reclamation of identity on screen. It's also powerful seeing real people perform cultural practices, wear traditional attire and practice cultural arts that we may have only read about in a history book or seen at a museum.

But "Chief of War" was focused on Hawaii. While Moana blends many Polynesian cultures, it is one of the rare times when cultures outside Hawaii, including Samoa, have taken center stage in a global film in this way.

Iulio, who is Hawaiian, Filipino and Samoan, said the animated version was also meaningful when it was first released because it expanded Polynesian representation, and expects this to hit similarly for audiences. "I can only imagine for people now who are seeing the movie for the first time, seeing the real us in these places. It adds that whole new layer of reality," she said.

Representation matters, especially since Pacific Islanders make up less than 1% percent of the U.S. population and are one of the least represented groups in Hollywood.

So when people say that the live-action Moana added nothing to the original, I argue that what they're missing is right in front of them: It's the people, craftsmanship and cultural details brought to life on screen. It's the kind of representation that allows Pacific Islanders to see themselves not as animated characters, but as real people who carry on these traditions today.

And why wouldn't we want to see that?

More Hawaii News

- A new type of Hawaii visitor is emerging

- Fight brews as an iconic Hawaii beach disappears

- Why Lahaina remains largely untouched nearly 3 years after the fire

- Hawaii visitors are getting stranded on Maui's forbidden back roads

We have a newsletter all about Hawaii, with news, tips and in-depth features from the Aloha state. Sign up here.

Read this story on sfgate.com