Gabby's Dollhouse movie review: Feel-good adventure celebrating imagination and creativity while staying young at heart
Much like the series, the film is a burst of childlike imagination — a hybrid of live-action and animation that feels both handmade and hyper-sweet
Director: Ryan Crego
Cast: Laila Lockhart Kraner, Jason Mantzoukas, Gloria Estefan, and Kristen Wiig
Rating: ★★★
For anyone with children, Gabby’s Dollhouse has likely been a constant presence in the living room — a pastel-hued, cat-filled world brimming with glitter, kindness, and a sprinkle of life lessons. The Netflix hit now graduates to the big screen with Gabby’s Dollhouse: The Movie, directed by Ryan Crego. Laila Lockhart Kraner reprises her role as Gabby, the endlessly cheerful girl who can shrink herself down to play inside her enchanted dollhouse. The film also stars Gloria Estefan as Gabby’s doting grandmother Gigi, and Kristen Wiig as the delightfully eccentric cat-lady villain Vera.
The story begins with Gabby heading out on a road trip with her grandmother, Gigi, to the city of Cat Francisco — a feline twist on San Francisco where even the Golden Gate Bridge shines in shades of lavender and pink. Along for the ride is Gabby’s beloved dollhouse, home to her tiny cat companions — the Gabby Cats — who magically spring to life whenever she pinches her ears and chants, “It’s time to get tiny!”
Trouble starts when Gabby’s dollhouse accidentally lands in the hands of Vera (Wiig), the self-proclaimed CEO of a glittery cat-litter empire. Vera, who dresses her hairless cat Marlena in identical couture, isn’t so much evil as she is jaded — an adult who’s forgotten how to use her imagination. Her plan is to display Gabby’s dollhouse as a collectible rather than embrace its magic. Teaming up with her talking cat friends — including Cakey the cupcake, CatRat, and Baby Box — Gabby must rescue her miniature pals and remind Vera (and maybe the audience) that imagination isn’t something to outgrow.
The good
The film’s biggest strength lies in its design — a kaleidoscope of textures, colours, and creativity that turns every scene into a sugar-spun dreamscape. From a winter wonderland built entirely of frosting to donut rafts floating on syrupy seas, Gabby’s Dollhouse crafts a universe so visually detailed it feels edible. The animation blends seamlessly with live-action segments, giving the impression that Gabby’s world is not animated but baked to life.
Laila Lockhart Kraner continues to be a bright, energetic screen presence. While it’s becoming harder to buy her as a little girl, her warmth and sincerity hold the film together. Gloria Estefan lends the right touch of grandmotherly grace, and Kristen Wiig steals every scene she’s in — turning Vera into a high-camp caricature that’s part Cruella de Vil, part art-school eccentric. Her villainy is never mean-spirited, just joyfully exaggerated.
The interactivity that defined the Netflix series translates surprisingly well to the big screen. When Gabby turns to the camera and asks the audience to hold hands or repeat after her, the theatre’s youngest viewers respond with unfiltered delight — making the experience feel more participatory than most animated features.
The bad
For anyone older than ten, however, this candy-coated world can quickly turn cloying. The movie relies heavily on cat puns, pep talks, and peppy pop numbers that, while undeniably cute, start to feel repetitive. The storyline borrows liberally from Toy Story and Trolls, but without the emotional heft or humour that made those films cross-generational hits.
The animation, though charming, occasionally reveals its small-screen roots. Certain sequences feel more suited for Netflix than a cinematic release. And while Wiig’s over-the-top villain is entertaining, the emotional arc — about reconnecting with one’s inner child — never digs deep enough to resonate with adults.
The verdict
Gabby’s Dollhouse: The Movie isn’t designed for grown-ups, and it doesn’t pretend to be. It’s pure, unfiltered escapism for its target audience — a safe, sparkly, and sweet extension of the series that inspired it. For children, it’s 90 minutes of unadulterated joy; for parents, it’s a harmless, if slightly exhausting, ride through a land of glitter and giggles. Still, there’s something undeniably comforting about its message: that imagination should never have an expiry date. As Gabby says, “You’re never too old to play.” For a generation growing up too fast, that reminder alone makes this sugary spectacle worth the trip to Cat Francisco.
