I can’t be the only person who got the impression from the promotional material that We Bought A Zoo was mawkish, overly sentimental piece of Hollywood nonsense. Granted, it’s based on a true story, but that’s hardly a factor that encourages film makers to put the sugar bowl away. As Dylan is expelled from school, Benjamin decides it’s time for a fresh start and…, well, the clue’s in the title really, isn’t it? What’s less expected is just how engaging a human film this is. If you’re expecting a film that focuses on the animals in a cutesy-drama kind of way, then you’re, thankfully, out of luck. Sure, the animals, and zoo, have a metaphorical purpose, but it turns out that the thrust of We Bought A Zoo is about a young family coming to terms with grief, and trying to move on. It does have missteps, though, that really hurt it. Firstly, there’s the running time. We Bought A Zoo does outstay its welcome, choosing to wrap things up just a little too well, a good while after the film has reached what appears to be its natural closing point. And then there’s the character of Walter Ferris, played by John Michael Higgins. There’s certainly a movie sheen to the way that the characters are portrayed in the film, but in the case of Ferris, the zoo inspector, it feels as if a pantomime baddie has stumbled onto the set. It’s the one performance that really jars, breaking the tone of the film by having a character who doesn’t feel in any real way believeable. We Bought A Zoo is a gentle, warming piece of cinema, likely to be passed over by many. That’d be a pity. It’s good, solid, quality filmmaking, using the cloak of the zoo to tell an engaging, human story. It tells it well, even if it does like to keep going a bit past its welcome. It might just be more suited to a nice sofa and a warm cup of cocoa, though, but that’s really no bad thing at all. Follow Den Of Geek on Twitter right here. And be our Facebook chum here.
We Bought A Zoo Review
<span title='2025-07-17 00:00:00 +0000 UTC'>July 17, 2025</span> · 2 min · 361 words · Linda Ralph