How to Train Your Dragon
I’m knee-deep in research for this yarn I’m telling, VIKINGS vs. SAMURAI. Yeah, that means I’m binge-watching movies like it’s my job—because, well, it kinda is. Now, samurai flicks? They’re a dime a dozen. You can’t swing a katana without hitting one. But Viking movies? Man, that’s a different story. Where are they? Not nearly as many, which is kinda nuts when you think about it. I mean, Vikings left a serious mark on Western culture. And here I am, watching stuff like How to Train Your Dragon. I know, I know—horned helmets and the Vikings are running around with these thick Scottish accents. I’ll let that slide, given they did their fair share of raiding around Orkney and such. But can we talk about Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III—voiced by Jay Baruchel—who, for some reason, doesn’t have any accent at all? Like, come on! But I’ll give it a pass. How to Train Your Dragon is a fun flick.
Alright, enough preamble. Let's get into this movie.
Meet Hiccup, our guy. Young Viking lives in the village of Berk, where dragons are about as common as a bad hangover. But Hiccup? He’s not exactly following in the footsteps of his old man, Stoick the Vast—played by Gerard Butler—who’s the big cheese of the village and a bona fide dragon-slaying machine. Hiccup’s kinda awkward, a bit of a fish outta water when it comes to bashing dragon heads. This makes him the odd man out among his crew. The story digs into themes of being your own person, finding your courage, and flipping the bird to the status quo.
Things heat up when Hiccup, itching to prove he’s not just some fumbling misfit, manages to snag himself a dragon—the Night Fury. This isn’t just any dragon, folks. This is the dragon everyone’s been talking about, the dragon of all dragons. But instead of offing the thing, Hiccup does the unthinkable—he befriends it. Names it Toothless. Yeah, Toothless. Turns out these dragons aren’t the bad guys everyone’s been led to believe. Who’d have thought? This friendship flips everything on its head and throws down a gauntlet at the feet of Viking tradition. Suddenly, the old ways don’t seem so clear-cut, and an unlikely alliance starts brewing between humans and dragons.
Excuse me, barmaid! I’m afraid you brought me the wrong offspring! I ordered an extra-large boy with beefy arms, extra guts and glory on the side. This here, this is a talking fish-bone!
Now, if there’s one thing How to Train Your Dragon nails, it’s the animation. The flight scenes? Pure poetry in motion. You’re practically up there riding with them. They nailed the Viking village vibe, and those longships? Covered in barnacles. Nice touch. And that Viking helmet made from half a great plate? That’s some cheeky, clever stuff right there.
Critics dig it, too. It’s got that sweet spot mix of action, comedy, and some surprisingly heavy emotional beats. It’s simple, yeah, but there’s a beauty in that simplicity. It brings you back to that childhood sense of wonder without trying to be too clever for its own good. It steers clear of any overcomplicated plot twists or too-adult jokes. It’s just a solid, straight-up tale of friendship, bravery, and finding yourself.
Sure, some folks might trip over the Scottish brogue or the fact-checking historians might have a field day with some of the liberties taken, but who cares? The movie’s charm and storytelling chops win you over.
In the end, How to Train Your Dragon isn’t just another animated flick. It’s got heart, guts, and a spirit that stands out in the crowd. It’s a tale that resonates—about acceptance, questioning the old ways, and the magic of an unexpected friendship. It’s not just for the kids. It’s got something for everyone. And that's why it’s one of DreamWorks’ crown jewels, a flick that flies high and sticks the landing.
