Roald Dahl’s stories have always been a twisted delight, but Netflix’s animated adaptation of The Twits takes a sharp turn from gross-out humor to something far more provocative: a political allegory that feels eerily relevant in today’s world. But here’s where it gets controversial: while the film starts as a slapstick romp about a revolting couple and their captive monkeys, it morphs into a pointed critique of populism and the allure of false promises—a move that’s as bold as it is unexpected.**
For those who grew up on Dahl’s tales, The Twits might not have been the first choice for a favorite. The 1980 novel, with its glass eyes in beer glasses and worms masquerading as spaghetti, leaned heavily into the grotesque. Dahl himself admitted the book was partly fueled by his disdain for beards—a quirky, if harmless, prejudice compared to some of his more troubling views (as his family later apologized for). As a kid, I found the book’s ickiness amusing but too sordid to rank alongside classics like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Yet, for others, the sheer absurdity of Mr. and Mrs. Twit’s cruelty and the magical monkeys’ plight was pure gold.
Bringing The Twits to the screen has been a long, winding road. A live-action version was scrapped years ago, but now it’s here as an animated film, co-directed by Phil Johnston (known for family-friendly hits like Wreck-It Ralph and Zootopia). Perhaps this project allowed Johnston to channel his inner chaos, trading the polished charm of his past work for something messier and more daring.
Set in the present day, the film introduces new characters and amps up the gross factor. Margo Martindale and Johnny Vegas voice the Twits with gleeful slime, capturing their seedy dynamic as they prank each other, torment monkeys, and terrorize local kids. Their plan to open a health-code-defying amusement park—complete with a bouncy castle made of soiled mattresses—is as crass as it is Dahl-esque. It’s a muckier, less whimsical take on the novel, clearly aimed at a new generation of kids who revel in the ridiculous.
And this is the part most people miss: beneath the slime and silliness lies a sharp political edge. The Twits’ scheme to revitalize their gloomy town, Triperot, mirrors the rhetoric of modern populism. They sell a false narrative of restoring past greatness, and the townspeople—much like real-world voters—buy into it, despite the obvious flaws. Meanwhile, two orphaned kids, Beesha (Maitreyi Ramakrishnan) and Bubsy (Ryan Lopez), try to break the spell, horrified by the Twits’ rise to power. It’s a direct allusion to Trumpism, and it’s stunning to see such a bold statement in a children’s film.
The film isn’t perfect. The animation feels sub-par compared to Disney or DreamWorks, and the original songs by David Byrne fall flat. The addition of the orphan characters gives it a generic kiddie-movie vibe, as if Netflix didn’t trust Dahl’s story to resonate on its own. Yet, the political allegory elevates it, making its flaws easier to overlook.
The voice performances shine, particularly Alan Tudyk as the hapless Sweet Toed Toad and Natalie Portman as one of the charming Muggle-Wump monkeys. Even the sentient hairballs coughed up by a stressed monkey—likely created for merchandising—are oddly endearing. It’s a film that starts as a minor toss-off but ends up making a major statement.
Here’s the real question: Is The Twits a clever critique of modern politics, or is it just another example of liberal bias seeping into children’s media? Some might call it ‘Twits Derangement Syndrome,’ but I’d argue it’s a bold, timely moral argument. Either way, it’s a conversation worth having. What do you think? Is this film a brilliant allegory or a misstep? Let’s debate in the comments.
