Cage Match: The Croods (2013)

Slapstick, saber-tooths, and sledgehammer sentimentality: let’s dive into Nicolas Cage’s prehistoric turn as Grug Crood in “The Croods”.

TL;DR: A visually spectacular but narratively safe prehistoric romp. Its candy-colored world and Looney Tunes slapstick distract from a familiar story, but Nicolas Cage’s booming voice performance as Grug elevates the material with pathos and panic. 

IN THIS CORNER: KELLY MINTZER

The Lowdown 

I’m not usually a fan of kids’ movies. I know, I know, congratulations, Kell, who the hell cares. But I tell you this in a “Dickens telling us that Marley was dead to begin with, so that we understand that what happens next is extraordinary” kind of way. I mean, not Dickensian, obviously. He’s one of the greatest novelists of all time, and I eat a lot of cheese. But knowing that I am, in general, a little biased against kids’ movies does make the fact that I stone-cold did not hate a movie called The Croods a bit more remarkable, because friends, believe me when I say that I planned to.

I’m not going to waste a ton of time on the plot. The plot is honestly probably the weakest thing about the movie. It is, at its core, the same as so many Disney/animated movies: a willful teenage girl butts heads against her father, they both learn a little more about each other’s perspective, yada yada yada. I have to admit, I find the trope a bit tedious, and setting it in the ear of cavemen didn’t really add anything new to it.

It’s fine, I guess. We dedicate a lot of media real estate to fathers and daughters in children’s media. The only time sons and mothers get as much coverage is in horror, but that’s another article. Please subscribe to my newsletter.

I’m going to get all my gripes out at once, so bear with me and remember, I didn’t hate this movie!

The Croods is written pretty unevenly. About two-thirds of the way through, the perspective character shifts from the teenage girl to her middle-aged dad (finally! Someone is representing middle-aged white men!), which is… not great writing. 

Ok, so we’ve got all of that shit out of the way. Here’s what I liked: every actor is giving a genuine performance, and we’ve got some heavy hitters. Alongside our man Cage, we’ve got Emma Stone and Ryan Reynolds, and no one is phoning it in at all. 

I watched The Croods alongside my delightful partner, who provided some extra perspective that was actually pretty meaningful about the obligations masculine types often feel in society, specifically the necessity of being a protector and how that can be damaging and isolating. I confess, my instinct initially was to roll my eyes at the whole “poor, misunderstood dad” thing, but watching it with the sweetest person I know helped reframe my ingrown cynicism.

Now, do I think The Croods perfectly delivers its message? Hell no. My partner agreed with me that it’s a little frustrating to watch the movie reframe itself to being more about the middle-aged dad and to have him entirely lauded as a hero despite the fact that he, quite literally, in the beginning and through much of the movie, was pretty content to die in a cave.

But look, it tried. And goddamn, the animation was genuinely beautiful. I didn’t love the character design, but the scenery and the critters (the admittedly kind of confusing critters) were gorgeously rendered. Even more surprising, a decent amount of the jokes made me laugh. Not hard, but genuine titters.

We watched Encanto afterwards, and it is an infinitely superior movie, BUT as far as kids’ movies go… we could all do a hell of a lot worse than The Croods.

The Cage Factor:

Steph and I have been in SUCH a brutal slump, it’s tempting to call it a Cage Fighter, but I can’t, in good conscience, call it essential. I’m instead calling it a Cautious Cage and a half. Not a lot of caution is required in recommending it. It’s fun and cute, and why not watch it?

AND IN THIS CORNER: STEPHANIE MALONE

The Lowdown 

When DreamWorks released The Croods in 2013, the general consensus was that it looked spectacular but told a story we’d seen a hundred times before. A prehistoric family road trip wrapped in slapstick gags and bright colors, it was no Frozen—but it was no Planes either. Sitting squarely in the middle, The Croods became a box office success, snagged Oscar and Golden Globe nominations, and helped pull DreamWorks out of a financial rut.

More than a decade later, revisiting the film in 2025 reveals a mixed bag: visually dazzling and imaginatively designed, but narratively safe and emotionally shallow.

The best part of The Croods is its look. This thing pops. The Croodaceous landscape is a kaleidoscope of neon flora, fantastical beasts, and gorgeously rendered vistas. There’s a tactile energy to the animation that hasn’t aged a day—partly because it avoids realism and instead leans into painterly beauty, with prehistoric cats that look like rainbow saber-tooths and whales that walk on land.

The action sequences are fast, frantic, and choreographed with clarity; they showcase a studio at the top of its technical game. Kids get oodles of silly slapstick, while adults occasionally catch a glimmer of dark humor beneath the candy shell. After all, cavemen didn’t exactly live long, happy lives, and the movie doesn’t let you forget it.

At heart, this is the umpteenth retelling of the “overprotective dad vs. rebellious teen daughter” tale, with an enlightened newcomer (Guy, voiced by Ryan Reynolds) driving a wedge between them. The themes (family bonds, fear of the unknown, embracing change) are timeless, but they’re hammered hard without any of the subtlety and nuance Pixar is known for. It’s heartfelt, but uneven; the emotional beats jostle against pratfalls about fire, meat, and bodily pain.

Yet there’s a wrinkle that makes The Croods more interesting than its formulaic blueprint suggests.

While the marketing makes it look like Eep’s coming-of-age story, it’s really Grug’s film. He’s the one forced to change, to loosen his grip, to see progress as survival rather than annihilation. In a way, The Croods plays like an allegory for the present day: adapt or perish, embrace progress or be swallowed by fear.

Watching this in 2025, with reactionary movements across the globe desperately clinging to outdated ways of life, that message feels surprisingly sharp.

The Cage Factor:

Let’s be real for a minute: Cage’s distinctive cadence and gravelly baritone are made for voice acting. He leans into Grug’s primal panic with gusto, growling, roaring, and hollering with the theatrical “Cage rage” we know and love. But there’s something deeper happening, too. You hear the tremor of vulnerability when Grug feels his daughter slipping away, the ache in his voice as he realizes he can’t protect his family from everything.

If some voice actors vanish into their roles, Cage does the opposite; he infuses Grug with his own unmistakable essence. Is it distracting? A little. You never forget you’re listening to Nicolas Cage. But it works, because Grug is supposed to feel larger than life, equal parts caveman and Shakespearean tragic hero. It’s neither the gonzo delirium of Vampire’s Kiss nor the quiet devastation of Pig.

But in The Croods, Cage shows his versatility: the same energy that can make a live-action meltdown legendary can also breathe surprising humanity into a digital Neanderthal.

Be still, my heart.