Kung Fu Panda 4 review: Jack Black’s panda power remains strong, but this outing is weak

Throughout the course of the Kung Fu Panda trilogy, we’ve seen dim-witted, dumpling-obsessed panda Po (voiced by Jack Black) transform from a bumbling, underestimated rube into an insightful, self-confident warrior—a Dragon Master, to be exact. He’s found his chi, taken a journey of self-discovery, learned selflessness, and harnessed the power to kick butt using kung fu to defeat a legion of ruthless villains. He’s also broken a few ancient artifacts in his process towards enlightenment. Over the past 16 years, his saga has spun off additional adventures for Po and his pals in direct-to-DVD shorts, a few animated series, and a holiday TV special. It seems Po’s greatest power has been the ability to become a massive, money-making franchise.

Yet, after an eight-year absence from the silver screen, Po’s return in Kung Fu Panda 4 has lost much of its creative spark. Directed by Mike Mitchell (Trolls, The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part) along with co-director Stephanie Stine (She-Ra And The Princesses Of Power), this next chapter has Po suffering from a career crisis, reluctantly seeking a protégé and stubbornly defending against an enemy threat. While this may sound like a story fit for the Pandaverse, in execution it fails to prove itself worthy of cinematic inclusion. Instead of finding the perfect balance of humor as the other films did, jokes outweigh and occasionally undercut the few resounding sentiments on personal evolution.

When we reunite with Dragon Warrior Po, he’s in his element, subduing a giant stingray with the Staff of Wisdom bequeathed by the legendary, deceased master Oogway. Master Shifu (Dustin Hoffman) feels the universe is revealing that it’s time for Po to level up to the title of Spiritual Leader of the Valley of Peace. Not only does this mean no more field missions for Po, it also entails having to choose a candidate to be the next Dragon Warrior. Since Po has no interest in changing his life, he drags his heels on both decisions. However, he can’t stall for too long as there’s a new adversary looming on the horizon.

The Chameleon (Viola Davis)—a shape-shifting sorceress who’s more evil and egomaniacal than any baddie we’ve met before—is looking to gain riches, power, and territory in a tyrannical takeover. First, she needs Po’s special staff to open the spirit realm so she can let all the master villains loose and steal their martial arts talents. Once Po catches wind of her plan, he teams up with an unlikely ally: Zhen (Awkwafina), a cunning criminal who’s as annoyingly scrappy as she is skillful. They set out on a road trip to the bustling metropolis of Juniper City, but the mismatched pair quickly learn that they’re going to have to work together to save the day—and the world.

Surprisingly, screenwriters Jonathan Aibel and Glenn Berger (who wrote the previous three Panda movies), along with Darren Lemke, have constructed a rote, generic journey for the titular hero and his new sidekick while his squad, the Furious Five, are off on side quests. Early on, it’s obvious what the conflicts are going to be and when they’ll manifest, from an inevitable double cross to a predictable change of heart. Po’s arc—to which this series lends heavy significance—is disappointingly dealt short shrift, with more importance put on his comedic pratfalls and overbearing action sequences. There’s nothing driving the relationship between Po’s adoptive father Mr. Ping (James Hong) and his blood-related one Li (Bryan Cranston), as their issues were already resolved in Kung Fu Panda 3. Plus, outside of a legitimately hilarious bull-in-a-china-shop gag, many of the jokes are subpar compared to others in the franchise.

Then there’s the glaring villain problem. Despite possessing greater power than her predecessors, and being more shifty as well, The Chameleon is not nearly as intimidating a presence as Tai Lung (Ian McShane) in the first film or Shen (Gary Oldman) in the second. This isn’t because of her diminutive physical size, nor Davis’ lively performance, in which she gets to exercise her funny bone during one awkwardly comical bit. Rather, it’s how this baddie is narratively drawn, forgotten about for a significant portion of the film, and not properly utilized to her full capacity. The filmmakers also set up a more dastardly plot than what they pay off during the climactic showdown.

Unfortunately, even the animation is a step down, failing to deliver the breathtakingly detailed, textured aesthetics that made these films dazzle and beguile in the past. Gone is the lush, tactile imagery where every frame feels like a painting, and in its place is a workman-like product. Unlike the second film, which incorporates a variety of visual styles to move character and story development forward with 2D and die-cut silhouettes, Kung Fu Panda 4 uses an anime-style split screen. There is a modicum of immersive fun to be had. The all-too-brief barroom brawl oner, where we follow Zhen from behind as she tries to evade capture, is an undeniable highlight, as is The Chameleon’s transformation sequence that plays like gateway horror for kiddos (which, word of warning, might be too scary for those under 5).

Black’s effervescent, ebullient vocalizations and his character’s positivity, gumption, and vulnerability—no matter how slight and superficial here—are what bolster the picture. It may be for a new young generation to discover, but there’s still a twinge of nostalgia when hearing him say his “skadoosh” catchphrase. Although this escapade is now part of the perky protagonist’s “legendary tales of awesomeness,” it’s one that’s best left forgotten.

Kung Fu Panda 4 releases in theaters on March 8.