Matilda (1996)

What makes Matilda special is how it treats a child’s inner life with real respect—then wraps that sincerity in a gleefully mischievous, Roald Dahl–flavored dark comedy. Danny DeVito directs with a storybook snap and a slightly twisted warmth, letting Mara Wilson’s Matilda shine as both wonderfully smart and quietly brave, while the grown-ups around her are drawn in broad, hilarious strokes that still feel pointed. The vibe is cozy and magical with an edge: think playful comeuppance, heartfelt kindness, and a touch of cartoonish menace that makes the victories sweeter. It may be a bit too mean-spirited for viewers who want purely gentle family fare, but if you like your whimsy with wit—and your hope earned—this one’s a delight.

Danny DeVito’s Matilda is trying to be a mischievous, empowering kids-vs-cruel-adults fairy tale, and it mostly succeeds with sharp humor, a lovable lead, and a satisfyingly storybook sense of justice. But don’t mistake “family fantasy” for gentle—this film leans hard into exaggerated nastiness, with bullying adults, scary set pieces, and a surprisingly dark, almost cautionary tone that can feel intense for sensitive kids. The morality is deliberately simple (good is very good, bad is cartoonishly awful), which some viewers find more mean-spirited than funny. If you want a cozy, soft-edged children’s movie, this may not be it; if you can handle a darker bite with your whimsy, it’s memorable and often genuinely charming.