Film Name: 欢乐好声音 / Sing

This is the best animated film I’ve seen in the year since Zootopia.
On the surface, the film tells a story about singing, featuring a whopping 85 songs spanning genres from jazz to country to rock to Japanese-inspired tunes, with singers of every style making an appearance.
But at its core, it’s a story about home. The theater director, a koala, has always struggled to part with a bucket that belonged to his father—a symbol of his father’s hard work and sacrifice for the family. A pig mother with 25 children finds her husband no longer notices her due to their monotonous routine—until her singing finally catches his attention. A chimpanzee born into a criminal family—doesn’t your eyes well up when his father breaks out of prison just to say, “I’m proud of you”? The little mouse, seemingly carefree, ultimately finds true love. The timid baby elephant receives unwavering family support throughout. The porcupine navigates the ups and downs of her relationship with her boyfriend. Even Koala’s best friend, the black sheep, finds familial warmth beyond material wealth through her grandmother.
Thus, what ultimately moves us isn’t how beautifully the songs are sung, but the families behind these singers—so ordinary yet so genuine, so unremarkable yet so deeply touching.
This is a work of extraordinary narrative complexity. It must weave together numerous families and their branching stories while masterfully depicting singing itself—making it the reason they come together, the driving force behind their dreams, and the path to their family happiness. If Zootopia featured two standout protagonists in Judy the rabbit and Nick the fox, Sing shines because every supporting character leaves a lasting impression, each with their own distinct personality and touching story.
It’s particularly noteworthy that none of these singing supporting characters overlap in identity value—each is distinct. From a family perspective, they include a mother (pig), a son (gorilla), a daughter (elephant), a single man without a girlfriend (mouse), and a single woman with a boyfriend (porcupine). Socially, they include a stay-at-home mom, a juvenile delinquent from a criminal family, a street performer, and a rock-and-roll enthusiast. They are almost all ordinary people in society, not great heroes, yet they unleash astonishing energy.
When Koala’s deception and concealment are exposed in the film, and even the theater collapses, his life and emotions plummet to the lowest depths. This truly is an utterly brilliant predicament. For at this moment, he has lost nearly everything. The film’s solution to this predicament is surprisingly uplifting: Koala picks up his father’s bucket once more, starting anew as a humble car-waxer. This setup radiates positive energy, for he has reclaimed the one thing he truly possesses. In life, relying on the charity of the wealthy or cutting corners never feels as solid as the steady ground gained through the hard work of one’s own hands, does it?
If Zootopia’s latter half plunges a fairy tale into grim reality, Sing steadfastly preserves that innocent magic. The young chimpanzee attempts to steal prize money to save his father, yet this “misdeed” ultimately succumbs to kindness and the pure pursuit of dreams. This detail is crucial—it offers hope. And then there’s Pig Mom, who dances solo in the supermarket like Susan Boyle. Even the security guard cranks up the volume for her, later praising her over the PA system. These moments show this isn’t a society steeped in darkness or prejudice; people are eager to support, help, and cheer each other on.
Watching Pig Mom dance, seeing the chimpanzee pour his soul into the piano, witnessing the baby elephant shatter timidity with a heavenly voice—each of us, ordinary souls in life, feels a release. Isn’t life about relentlessly, passionately revealing our authentic selves?
Thus, while the film lacks the profound contrast between utopia and reality found in Zootopia, and fails to critique the social ills inherent in contemporary talent shows, it compensates by preserving richer, more multifaceted familial bonds. Every frame radiates fairy-tale-like positivity, creating a profound emotional resonance. And when this emotional resonance combines with the film’s beautiful music, it makes you feel even happier.
Please specify:Anime Phone Cases » Sing 2016 Animation Film Review: An Ode to Dreams and Family Affection