A half-chicken half-hare, a skunk and a tortoise go in search of a 3,000-year-old groundhog in this wholesome animation with a surprisingly complex plot

Although this animated feature doesn’t have a title as utterly awesome as its predecessor, Chickenhare and the Hamster of Darkness, it’s still a perfectly adequate 90-ish minutes of creamy pastel-coloured picaresque entertainment. It feels like it’s skewed in the direction of younger viewers given the simple character designs, general wholesomeness and easy-on-the-jokes tone, but the plot is surprisingly complicated. The lead character is named Chickenhare because of course he is half-chicken half-hare, although in practice he looks more like a hare than a chicken other than a tuft of feathers on the crown of his head. He is best friends with a skunk named Meg, equipped with the awesome power of stink and who is very butch-coded with her waistcoat, faux-hawk and tomboy characteristics; there is also a tortoise named Abe, who as you might imagine is less keen on running about than the other two.

After a pleasingly kinetic introductory action sequence that feels very Indiana Jones-inspired, during which the treasure-hunting trio run into a svelte but scratchy cat called Crolloq, an old school friend (girlfriend?) of Meg’s. Angry at Meg for assorted reasons, she leaves the other three in a pit but they eventually escape with the golden spork they were seeking all along, a doodah that proves useful later. One thing leads to another, like they do, and they end up on a new adventure in search of a 3,000-year-old groundhog with a backwards facing face who can turn back time. A new character accompanies them on the way: Gina, Chickenhare’s long-lost half-sister who is, wait for it, a harechicken – more aviform than mammalian.

From global loanwords and garbled Italian, the slang of the children of millennials doesn’t just share elements with Minionese – it may have absorbed it

I was four years old when Despicable Me was released in cinemas and the banana-coloured, overall-clad Minions took the world by storm. By the time I was seven, my siblings and I were using The Official Minion Manual to teach ourselves Minionese.

Minionese is, of course, the made-up language spoken by Kevin, Stuart, Bob and company, which consists of a combination of melodic gibberish and variations on genuine vocabulary from a diverse array of world languages. When the Minions shout “kanpai” (“cheers” in Japanese) or “para tú!” (a variation on the Spanish “para ti”), it might remind you of how gen Alpha slang, which primarily consists of nonsensical words such as “cap” and “mogging”, also draws on world languages. Consider the Bulgarian scat origins of “skibidi”, for example.

A sinister new tablet threatens the honest-to-goodness toys’ existence, but Buzz, Woody and Jessie’s big tech moral battle feels compromised

The fifth episode of the Toy Story franchise is as slick and smooth as you like, as glitchless as Toy Story 6 or Toy Story 7 might be … or will be. As a piece of family-entertainment content it has the unblemished sheen of a brand new smartphone. But at heart, it has gone dead. For all the intensive, high-energy creative work that has clearly gone into this film’s every frame, the jeopardy, the novelty, the ideas and the passion are lacking; the crucial Toy Story theme of mortality feels underpowered, and the film even calamitously loses its nerve with its own big idea – those squeamish about spoilers had better look away now – the sinister way addictive tech devices are undermining the imaginative play that kids once had with honest-to-goodness toys.

Here a creepy tablet device called Lilypad (voiced by Greta Lee) enters the children’s world, but ultimately proves to be capable of sentimental self-sacrificial heroism when it comes to their mental health. Really? At least Lots-o’-Huggin’ Bear, the villain from TS3, had the courage of his evil convictions.

‘The studio wanted me to wear less. They wanted to see my muscles. But we were shooting outdoors in winter – and I had to put Vaseline on to keep my body heat in’

Cannon Films had the rights to Masters of the Universe and thought: “Let’s get this new guy. He’s blond, has good pecs … He can wield the sword.” I was convinced to do it but only very reluctantly – I didn’t want to play a toy. There was lots of excitement but also lots of worry. I’d been Soviet bad guy Ivan Drago in Rocky IV and now I was going to be this American hero. I was nervous and afraid people weren’t going to like it.

I Knew It, I Knew You is written with longtime collaborator Jack Antonoff and marks a return to Swift’s country roots

After days of speculation online, Taylor Swift has announced the release of a new original song for Toy Story 5.

Titled I Knew It, I Knew You, the single will be released on 5 June, with CD singles available for preorder on Swift’s website. Three variants will be available, each containing different versions of the song: a piano version, an acoustic version and the original.

Cat and mouse are transported to a quasi-medieval China in this luridly bright animation that has none of the inventiveness of the Hanna-Barbera originals

This expensively rendered, eye-searingly bright animated feature from China rests on a truly weird premise. Tom and Jerry, the cartoon foes of yore, are chasing each other around a museum in present-day New York City when they are supernaturally transported, thanks to a magic compass doodah, to a quasi-medieval China where humans mix freely with gods and cryptozoological animals including phoenixes, gargoyles and talking rats. Which, admittedly, isn’t a massive conceptual leap from Tom and Jerry’s usual imaginary world, where a cat and a mouse can be endlessly regenerated after being flattened, sliced, diced or blown up according to comedy needs. Nevertheless, there’s some serious cognitive dissonance going on here; this is a mix-and-match mashup of mythologies that fans of the original T&J shorts, written and directed by William Hanna and Joseph Barbera in the 1940s and 50s, may find disturbing. Welcome to the future, where IP can be infinitely remixed provided you have enough lawyers or material whose copyright has expired.

So Tom and Jerry fall out of the sky in this brave new world, and the local residents of Golden City assume at first they must be gods, and Tom at least isn’t in any rush to disabuse them of this notion. Partly it’s because his newfound fame has helped catch the attention of Jade (voiced in the English dub by Janice Kawaye), a white-furred, blue-eyed opera cat in a red cheongsam dress. For some reason, Jade can both sing and talk, while Tom is mute in the traditional manner – apart from the tiny devil and angel that appear on his shoulders occasionally, just to add a little Judeo-Christian iconography to the mix. Otherwise, the vast amount of talking is done by two opposed characters, the Phoenix Master (Matthew Yang King), a supernatural humanoid trickster who’s been looking for the compass thingy for 300 years, and his arch-enemy Mega-Rat (AJ Beckles), an embittered creature who attempts to trick fellow rodent Jerry into joining forces with him. There are a bunch of other wisecracking, often bickering, pastel-coloured creatures but they’re eminently forgettable unless you are the sort of person who collects plastic figurines from McDonald’s Happy Meals.

Tim Allen, Joan Cusack and Greta Lee join Hanks to answer your enquiries about the forthcoming animation and its previous instalments

Is there a more eagerly anticipated movie this year than Toy Story 5? For many people (with and without children), you can keep your Odysseys and Minotaurs and Place in Hells, because the return of Woody, Buzz and friends is what cinema is really all about. The series so far has made $3.3bn, and last year’s teaser trailer had 142m views in 24 hours – of which only 140m were my son pressing refresh.

The new film, which is released worldwide on 19 June, sees Jessie the Cowgirl (voiced by Joan Cusack) leading the gang in eight-year-old Bonnie’s room, with Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen) her second-in-command, after the departure of Woody (Tom Hanks) at the end of Toy Story 4 to help abandoned toys find their owners.

Time Hoppers: The Silk Road is a time-travel adventure whose child heroes must save the legacy of Islamic scholars who shaped modern science. Its makers reveal their inspiration, and reflect on their success

‘Some people said it doesn’t exist – that it’s a fantasy.” So says Flordeliza Dayrit of the silk road, the vast network of trade routes that once connected Asia, Africa and Europe – and the starting location for Time Hoppers: The Silk Road, the animated feature she co-created with her husband, Michael Milo.

Speaking from their home in Edmonton, Canada, the couple describe a project that started with personal intrigue and grew into something far more ambitious. With its theatrical release in UK cinemas, Time Hoppers turns this sense of curiosity into a fast-moving children’s adventure: a story in which four young protagonists travel back in time to the medieval Islamic world, meeting the scientists and scholars whose discoveries shape our current everyday lives.

The latest in our series of writers paying tribute to their go-to comfort films celebrates Steven Spielberg’s escapist globe-trotting adventure

The ancient Greek philosopher Lucretius writes in his epic poem On the Nature of Things: “It is comforting, when winds are whipping up the waters of the vast sea, to watch from land the severe trials of another person … it is comforting to see from what troubles you yourself are exempt.”

This feeling of living dangerously by proxy is exactly why I find it so relaxing to watch Indiana Jones in 1981’s Raiders of the Lost Ark go through an endless stream of trials and tribulations: trekking through the hot, sticky jungle. Avoiding venomous spiders and snakes. Being betrayed by not one, but two of his colleagues. Jumping over bottomless chasms and outrunning giant boulders, only to be thwarted by his arch-rival and chased by a tribe of bow-and-arrow-toting Amazonians. And that’s just the first 15 minutes of the film.

The heroine of Roman Holiday and Breakfast at Tiffany’s knew war and poverty, riches and fame, love and betrayal – yet claimed to have lived a ‘terribly boring’ life. Sean Hepburn Ferrer paints a very different picture in his new biography

Growing up, Sean Hepburn Ferrer says he never felt like the son of a movie star – but he very much is. His mother was Audrey Hepburn, one of the biggest names in the golden age of Hollywood, an Oscar-winner, a screen star and a fashion icon. Hundreds of millions of people all over the world recognise her from classics such as Roman Holiday, Funny Face and My Fair Lady – besotted with the way she laughs, dances, or poses tastefully in Givenchy couture.

Audrey’s image is so ubiquitous in posters, art prints, magazines, on handbags, keyrings or T-shirts, that the family has made hunting for her likeness into a game. “I must have made this crack to my kids,” Sean says. “We were probably waiting for a train or a plane that had been delayed: ‘Three minutes to find Grandma.’ And it became a thing. Now the kids are grown-up, but they do it on their own. I do it by myself and send a snapshot to my wife and we giggle privately.”

At this point, it’s trite to say that a bad film feels as if it’s been AI generated, but this simplistic sequel is next-level – it’s nothing more than an Easter holiday cash grab

Here is an inert and uninteresting animated follow-up to The Super Mario Bros Movie, based on the legacy video game about two wacky Italian-Brooklyn plumbers Mario and Luigi, voiced here by Chris Pratt and Charlie Day; this kind of stereotype is evidently the last in mainstream entertainment to be considered offensive. Now they and mushroom-kingdom ruler Princess Peach (voiced by Anya Taylor-Joy) have to rescue Rosalina (Brie Larson), the adoptive mother of the faintly Minion-y creatures called the Lumas. She has been abducted by Bowser Jr (Benny Safdie), the son of wicked turtle Bowser (Jack Black), who did very much the same sort of thing in the previous film.

Of course it’s intended for little kids, but it surely didn’t need to be such a visually dull screensaver of a movie, with even more of the cheesy, Euro-knockoff look of that first film. And, again, the paucity of funny lines is a real puzzle. The last film gave us a concerted attempt to spoof the game’s 2D graphics and its left-to-right gameplay movement, with all the running and jumping, making a comic virtue of how absurd it looks. There’s little or nothing of that now, just a pretty uninspired variation of the first storyline, a generic quest adventure whose incidental plot point of Mario’s supposed crush on Princess Peach generates absolutely no interest at all.

Ewan McGregor and Helena Bonham Carter lead an impressive cast in this magical tale – but its focus on two unlikable young protagonists proves wearing

Here is a lacklustre kids’ animation with an ostensibly starry voice cast including Ewan McGregor, Helena Bonham Carter, Mel Brooks and the late Terry Jones. (Oddly, David Walliams is announced and credited online as voicing the Guardian, while the film’s credits indicate the role is played by the prolific but little-known voice actor Stefan Ashton Frank. Wonder what happened there?)

However, it’s important to know before you watch that the lead characters who occupy most of the film’s runtime are two children not voiced by any of these luminaries. Young Elise and Alfie are twins who wish themselves into a magical world before getting into various scrapes. Sadly, Elise is deeply annoying and Alfie is a bit nondescript, which makes the whole thing rather a chore.

The trippy film of Enid Blyton’s much loved novels has been 20 years in the making. We catch up with its adult and child stars – inside a giant cake as disco-dancing elves rollerskate past

Anyone who read Enid Blyton’s Faraway Tree novels as a child has imagined themselves roving through their magical landscapes. Most of us had a favourite, be it the Land of Wizards, or Nursery Rhymes, or Do-As-You-Please. Thirteen-year-old Billie Gadsdon, about to star in the highly anticipated film adaptation, The Magic Faraway Tree, particularly loves the Land of Goodies – but that’s because when she was last there, everything around her was made of sweets.

Director Ben Gregor wanted his cast to interact with the fantastical surroundings as much as possible. And so, on their sound stage in Reading, Gadsdon found herself filming in a grove of marshmallow trees, surrounded by giant flying-saucer plants and Haribo strawberry beds. “I did eat a few,” she confides. The Land of Birthdays was just as fun – she was filmed in those scenes in the middle of a giant cake, as rollerskating elves disco-danced by.

Sprightly animation about a student’s attempt to stop the destruction of a woodland leans into Disney’s love of anthropomorphism and riffs amusingly on Avatar

Writer-director Daniel Chong brings us a witty, sprightly family animation, co-produced by Pixar veteran Pete Docter and co-written by Jesse Andrews, who may conceivably have supplied quite a bit of the punching-up and the funny incidental lines. In its modest, insouciant way, it is about protecting the environment, and riffs amusingly on films such as Avatar (there’s some amusing preemptive material about it not being like Avatar, but it is, especially at the end) as well as Inception, The Lion King and Dr Dolittle. It’s also about Disney anthropomorphism generally: the great mystery of what it must be like to be an animal and the human yearning to communicate and empathise with them.

Mabel, voiced by Piper Curda, is a teenager who lives with her grandma (the absence of her mom is slightly skated over) and learns from this wise older person the importance of loving nature, particularly the peaceful woodland glade near their house – and the associated importance of acceptance and forgiveness for people that you maybe don’t get along with. But when the evil Mayor Jerry (voiced by Jon Hamm) says he intends to destroy this glade to make way for a freeway, Mabel realises that the only way to stop him legally is to repopulate the glade with the beavers and other animals who have mysteriously vanished.

The trusty cartoon franchise brings Daffy Duck and Porky Pig back for fresh antics, updated pretty neatly for our times

The Looney Tunes franchise has been regularly resuscitated and rebooted for new generations ever since Warner Bros stopped making the original cartoons back in the 1960s, creating more minutes of screen time than all the Dracula, Wuthering Heights and Jurassic Park remakes and spin-offs combined. Like some fiendish glue from the Acme corporation, the Looney Tunes IP is sticky, resilient stuff: instantly recognisable, easily dubbed into other languages, with codes and quirks peculiarly pleasing to audiences of all ages, and yet easily malleable to fit the comic modes and manners of each age.

This feature, starring Daffy Duck and Porky Pig (both voiced by Eric Bauza), feels very 2020s – in that it’s not embarrassed about getting sappy from the off and then resolving its core dramatic problems with a big dose of child psychologist-friendly empowerment lessons about accepting people for who they are and the value of loyalty. Bizarrely for anyone raised on Saturday-morning repeats of the original 1930s-50s toons where the two were usually adversaries, Daffy and Porky are best friends forever here, raised together like brothers by their adoptive parent, Farmer Jim (Fred Tatasciore), who then promptly carks it in the first 10 minutes after enjoining them to always stick together.

Based on a 2000 novella, this sweet animation follows a young girl who wakes from a vegetative state on the verge of feral, but begins to bond with others after an intervention by her grandmother

This tender and sweet animation from film-makers Maïlys Vallade and Liane-Cho Han is an involving, poignant study of early childhood; how fragile it is, and how strong you feel yourself to be to have outlived or surpassed it. It is based on the autobiographical novella The Character of Rain by Belgian author Amélie Nothomb, published in 2000.

Loïse Charpentier voices the role of Amélie, a little girl living in Kobe, Japan, with her Belgian family in the late 60s; mum, dad and older brother and sister. Until the age of three, she was in a persistent vegetative state, but was miraculously jolted free of it by a terrifying earthquake; yet she emerges quarrelsome and almost feral, to the despair of her parents. That is until her elegant grandmother Claude (Cathy Cerda) comes to visit and gives her a piece of narcotically delicious white Belgian chocolate, which causes Amélie to bloom into a lovely, biddable child who adores her Japanese nanny Nishio-san (Victoria Grosbois).

A diminutive young buck aspires to compete with rhinos and horses in ‘roarball’, but this by-numbers tale is not the greatest of any time

Greatest of all time? No. Possibly not even the greatest of half-term. This loud, chaotic and unlovable animated kids’ comedy feels as though it is bordering on AI slop, algorithmically generated and instantly familiar from Zootropolis, Sing and other movies with talking animals. It is a shame, because it has a real-life inspiration: basketball star Stephen Curry, who was repeatedly told at the start of his career that he was too skinny and too small to make it as a pro. Curry is a producer here, and has a performing role. But in spite of this connection, Goat lacks heart and soul, and a sense of genuine emotions.

What it does have is some pretty decent voice acing, bringing a degree of charm to the movie. Will Harris (voiced by Caleb McLaughlin) is a goat who has grown up dreaming of playing professional “roarball”, a fiercer and faster version of basketball. But Will is a “small” and roar players are all “bigs” – powerful beasts such as rhinos and horses. Will’s hero and the star of his favourite team, the Thorns, is a panther called Jet (Gabrielle Union), a champ close to retirement but determined to win the league. When Will gets a shot at joining the Thorns, he is laughed at, underrated but undeterred.

Asa Butterfield leads a cast of freaks looking for acceptance and love in a harsh and uncaring world in this rather melancholy version of Guy Bass’s kid-lit series

Perhaps the most noteworthy aspect of this middling Brit-populated, European-financed, Indian-manufactured animation is the radical change of career trajectory it represents for its pinballing director, Steve Hudson. Hudson broke through with 2006’s Loachian social drama True North, a migrant movie starring Peter Mullan – now, having witnessed how the other half lives while directing episodes of primetime TV’s Cranford, he pivots to pixels with a big-screen adaptation of Guy Bass’s kid-lit books. Stitch Head feels like a tentative first step into a heavily crowded field, sutured together from ideas and images previously encountered in far more confident and accomplished entertainments.

Bass’s eponymous hero is rendered here as a boy with Bowie-esque heterochromatic eyes, a baseball-like head and the voice of Asa Butterfield; his home is a castle overlooking small town Grubbers Nubbin, where a mad professor (Rob Brydon) carries out Frankenstinian experiments. If the lead character design is solid – accompanying adults may wind up knitting replicas of Stitch Head’s onesie – the surrounding menagerie seems a bit too Pixar for comfort; Stitch’s furry cyclops pal Creature (Joel Fry) is conspicuously a hybrid of Monsters, Inc’s Mike and Sully. Once this pair abscond to join a travelling freak show, Stitch Head ventures a rather melancholy and misshapen showbiz story – that of a boy who, much like the film, just wants to be loved.

The stage and screen actor on turning gaffes into gifts, the impact of Eowyn, and the Lord of the Rings stew scene fans won’t stop asking about

• Get our weekend culture and lifestyle email

Your latest role is Queen of the Cuttlefish, in The Pout-Pout Fish; if you could be a fish for a day, which one would it be and why?

The blue groper at Clovelly beach – because it’s like an institution, and people go there to see it. I just think it’s cool that there’s a local fish that people actually go and see and talk about – it’s a special fish.

With a turn by Mark Hamill and a saltily suggestive catchphrase for Patrick, the fourth SpongeBob film shows that anything can still happen in Bikini Bottom

Could the students who snickered their way through those first SpongeBob adventures have foreseen the franchise persisting 25 years on, even after metabolising the most lysergic pharmaceuticals? Such longevity is partly down to extra-commercial considerations, in that the series has a capacity for tickling adults’ funny bones – possibly even those now fully grown students – as well as the very young. Though it can’t claim anything quite as unexpected as the David Hasselhoff cameo in 2004’s The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie – not so much a high bar as an unforgettably wonky one – feature four thinks nothing of making Clancy Brown talk like a pirate while handing royalty cheques to Barbra Streisand and Yello. Anything can still happen in Bikini Bottom.

Preceded by a festive short for Paramount’s other weathered babysitters, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, the new SpongeBob film soon settles into a familiarly goofy groove, its script a PG-rated treatise on the pros and cons of growth. This SpongeBob (once more voiced by Tom Kenny) is now 36 clams high, a source of particular excitement as this will allow him to ride the rollercoaster of his dreams. (One early, trippy laugh: our overexcitable hero’s imagined loop-the-loops.) As in the best contemporary American animation, though, the corkscrew plotting is the real rollercoaster. SB’s quest to obtain the fabled swashbuckler certificate that will prove him a “big guy” brings him into conflict with the Flying Dutchman, voiced by the suddenly ubiquitous Mark Hamill.