Dora and the Lost City of Gold Parent Guide

If you’re over the age of six, you might not have much appreciation for Dora the Explorer, the cute cartoon heroine of the Nickelodeon animated series that bears her name. But after dragging yourself through the hundred and two minute runtime of Dora and the Lost City of Gold, you may find yourself longing for the old Dora.

In this live-action adaptation, the perky preschooler of television fame only graces the screen for a few minutes as we’re filled in on Dora’s adventurous upbringing in the Peruvian jungle. But soon, we’re introduced to teenage Dora, (Isabela Moner) whose idyllic lifestyle amongst the flora and fauna is brought to an abrupt halt when her parents announce that they’re off to investigate Inca ruins in the wilds and she’s not invited. Instead, she’s being shipped off to the big city to live with her cousin Diego (Jeff Wahlberg.)

Any homeschooled kid from a different culture would have a rough go in a crowded high school, but Dora’s even more a fish out of water. With her memorized assortment of encyclopedic facts, the fashion sense and social abilities of a six year old, and an annoying habit of bursting into song - it’s no wonder Diego doesn’t want to be seen with her. She also earns the ire of Sammy, (Madeleine Madden) the smartest kid in school, when she unwittingly outdoes her in every subject. Pretty soon, the only person who can stand her is Randy, (Nicholas Coombe) a stereotypical nerd who’s equally clueless.

Unfortunately, a class field-trip ends in all four kids being drugged, kidnapped, and dumped in remotest Peru. With the help of a klutzy professor, (Eugenio Derbez) they escape their captors and venture into the jungle in search of Dora’s missing parents.

What follows should be a fun adventure story, or, at the very least, a heartwarming lesson in friendship and teamwork. Instead, it’s a hodgepodge of childish jokes, slapstick antics, and legitimately perilous situations that left me wondering what age group the filmmakers had in mind when they put the thing together. Characters sing songs about poop and giggle at the sound of flatulence in one scene and are almost crushed/drowned/shot in the next as they face off against hostile natives and booby-trapped temples straight out of Indiana Jones. Meanwhile, cameos from the cartoon make an appearance in a trippy animated segment, (brought on by hallucinogenic flower spores,) while others interact with human characters in the form of slightly creepy CGI creations. No one seems at all perplexed when they’re helped out by a sentient blue and yellow monkey, but they scoff at the idea that the animal can communicate with Dora. What’s the logic here?

None of this is helped by other unnecessary content, including the occasional remark about animal and human mating rituals, or one character’s drug induced disregard for clothing, (animated male buttocks are seen.) If this doesn’t feel like a betrayal of the source material, the film’s portrayal of indigenous culture might. The Inca in this story are pure fabrication—an insensitive and disappointing choice on the part of the filmmakers. After all, the original Dora the Explorer show was both educational and a celebration of Latino language and culture.

When things finally concluded in a celebratory musical number, I felt like singing along with the words, “Lo hicimos! We did it!” Just reaching the end of this movie felt like an accomplishment.