Film Name: 洛克王国2：圣龙的心愿 / Roco Kingdom: The Desire of Dragon
This is a joyful film. For children, justice triumphs over evil; for the nostalgic crowd, the quartet’s parody of Dragon Ball is utterly hilarious; for adult audiences, both Rippy’s rap and Duck-Duck’s absurd antics are sure to elicit hearty laughter.
This is a film that earnestly strives to weave emotional depth into its narrative. The friendship between Ryusei and Abu, the father-son bond between the Elf King and Lavi, and the genuine camaraderie forged through adversity between Lepi and Duck-Gigi—each of these relationships, when explored in detail, has the power to move the heart.
Yet this is also a film that feels rushed and underdeveloped. Crucially, this sense of haste doesn’t stem from carelessness but from underlying conflicts. Perhaps it was conflicts between release schedules and production timelines, or perhaps tensions between investors and production teams—whatever the cause, this internal discord manifested externally.
So how exactly did the film rush to its conclusion? What aspects should have been clarified for a proper resolution?
(If you believe this is merely children’s entertainment and doesn’t warrant such scrutiny, feel free to stop reading here.)
1. The Ultimate Challenge Falls Short
At the film’s conclusion, the ultimate crisis the Rockos face is the Dream Power of the Spirit King being drained by villains. This doesn’t truly push them to the brink, diminishing the cathartic satisfaction of their ultimate triumph. In this regard, “Roco Kingdom 2” even regresses compared to “Roco Kingdom 1.”
A true desperate situation should at least involve: Abu of Dragon Star on the verge of vanishing; the ultimate boss Enzo returning fully healed; villains using the power of dreams for evil, bringing catastrophic disaster to the Roco Kingdom; or the Spirit King’s death, collapsing the people’s spiritual pillar.
The method of making heroes heroic—placing protagonists in life-or-death situations—should never involve the Spirit King automatically regaining the Power of Dreams after being moved by his son, thereby resolving all the hero’s difficulties. Instead, it should be Roco and his pets, or the heroes themselves, who overcome every obstacle. For instance: Abu exhausts his final strength to defeat an opponent he could scarcely overcome, yet still faces the peril of vanishing; after reconciling with his father through mutual understanding, Levi joins the battle at Dragon Star, inherits his father’s legacy, becomes the new Spirit King, reclaims his father’s Dream Power, and generates even greater strength to defeat Enzo; ultimately, Levi helps Abu achieve rebirth, and so on.
I’m not trying to play scriptwriter here, but if the film ended this way, it would make the preceding 80 minutes of setup worthwhile. It would let kids enjoy a thrilling battle against life-and-death trials, stirring up the audience’s passion and excitement.
2. The negative traits of an only child from a privileged background, embodied by Lewei, have not been fully overcome.
Both “Roco Kingdom 2” and “Seer II” depict father-son relationships, seemingly crafted to appeal to audiences who enjoy seeing adults and children together. However, between these two portrayals, I clearly prefer the one in “Seer II.”
In “Seer II,” the protagonist’s father works as a garbage collector yet radiates profound care for his son. I feel our society today sorely lacks attention to the virtues of the working class. When every film portrays, validates, and glorifies elites, children absorb a distorted view of society—after all, 80% of people are ordinary citizens, and most moviegoers are ordinary citizens too. Instead of feeding them elite fantasies, why not tell stories about the people right beside them?
Meanwhile, “Roco Kingdom 2” falls back on the tired trope of elite fathers with only children. The father is a selfless “Kong Fansen,” while the child craves attention—even spoiling. Le Wei selfishly tries to trigger the wishing ball, embodying the typical traits of an only child: unable to endure hardship or setbacks, afraid to face problems and challenges, and always thinking solely from his own perspective—he never considers his father’s difficulties, just as his father never considers his son’s feelings. By the film’s conclusion, when Le Wei and his father embrace again, this merely resolves the thawing of their familial bond—it doesn’t address Le Wei’s personal growth. Has he become braver? More optimistic? More empathetic?
3. Underdeveloped Grassroots Supporting Characters
Compared to the noble origins of the Elf King and Le Wei, Lei Pi and Ya Jiji are thoroughly grassroots characters. Yet they hold significant textual meaning in the film. Not only does their genuine bond through adversity form a crucial part of the film’s emotional fabric, but their grassroots courage serves as a powerful force capable of altering elite decisions.
The film merely sketches their backgrounds, relegating them to comic relief and scene-transition roles. It fails to leverage them as catalysts to transform the timid Luvig or the disillusioned Longxing—a profoundly missed opportunity. Minor characters must deliver major impact in pivotal moments; this is their essential survival strategy. The inherent tension between a character’s humble stature and their profound influence is a dialectical relationship.
Moreover, I imagine that if the film could conclude with a rap performance by Lei Pi, it would achieve even greater perfection.
4. On Setting the Stage
Since Enzo appears in the film, the ending simply cannot omit him—this is a matter of principle. Laying the groundwork only to leave it unused would leave audiences feeling something is missing, as if the story remains unfinished.
At the Elf King’s gate, Long Xing and his companions faced another ordeal: they were accused by the tree elves of wasting food and subsequently detained. While opposing wastefulness may not have been anticipated as a major contemporary social issue during production, had Longxing’s group wasted food only this once, their actions would have felt abrupt and implausible. If their tendency toward wastefulness is to be utilized later, it must be foreshadowed earlier. Using it without setup makes it feel sudden and lacking credibility.
Of course, the film does lay some solid groundwork: the abundance of hugging-themed toys in Le Wei’s home mirrors his inner longing for his father’s embrace, which he later achieves. See? When you dare to lay groundwork in a film, audiences will inevitably pick up on it.
5. Other Issues
There are also some minor problems. I’ll just give one example:
As the protagonist, Long Xing is undoubtedly the focal point for countless children. Therefore, he cannot have any misguided promotional points. He can be mischievous, playful, and prone to bragging, but ultimately, he must possess the essential attributes of a hero: bravery, kindness, and sincerity! Yet the film inexplicably saddles Longxing with a peculiar trait: “arrogance.” Not the proud kind, but the arrogant kind that invites defeat.
Longxing constantly boasts, “I am the Sacred Dragon Knight,” always flaunting his achievements. What’s so special about being a Sacred Dragon Knight? Does that guarantee eternal victory? Such arrogance should lead to his downfall, not triumph! This attitude is hardly something a director committed to creating safe, wholesome films for children should actively promote. If the film had explored a subplot where he suffers a crushing defeat because he cannot properly acknowledge the Sacred Dragon Knight’s achievements, thereby learning humility, it would have been far safer and more wholesome than the current version.
Please specify：Anime Phone Cases » Roco Kingdom: The Desire of Dragon 2013 Film Review: How to avoid a rushed conclusion