The Borrowers (1997)

The Borrowers (1997) is the kind of family film that feels like you’ve stepped into a storybook and discovered a whole secret civilization hiding in the cracks of ordinary life, brought to life with wonderfully inventive visuals and playful, tactile production design. It’s light on its feet—part cozy fantasy, part pint-sized action-adventure—with a mischievous sense of comedy that’s anchored by game performances, especially Jim Broadbent’s warm, flustered charm and John Goodman gleefully hamming it up as a deliciously booable villain. The movie’s real pleasure is its sense of scale and ingenuity: everyday objects become thrilling set pieces, and simple “borrowed” items turn into clever solutions, keeping the pace brisk and the mood buoyant. If you’re looking for gritty realism, this isn’t it, but if you want a spirited, good-natured romp that treats imagination as its special effect, it’s an easy yes.

The Borrowers (1997) is clearly aiming for a cozy, family-friendly romp built around the fun “tiny people in a big house” concept, with physical gags and a straightforward good-vs-greedy-villain setup. The problem is that the story feels thinner than the premise deserves, and the pacing can lurch from charming miniature hijinks to plot mechanics that exist mainly to push the chase along. If you love Mary Norton’s original book, be warned: this version takes big liberties, swapping much of the quieter wonder for broader comedy and a more conventional villain-driven adventure. Still, the production design and scale tricks are genuinely enjoyable, and John Goodman’s scenery-chewing bad guy energy can make it a decent pick for younger kids or anyone in the mood for light, low-stakes nostalgia rather than a faithful adaptation.