'Freakier Friday' Disappoints and Fails to Capture the Original's Charm

The body-swap comedy is a durable fixture in Hollywood, boasting a long lineage that includes genre touchstones such as Heaven Can Wait, All of Me, Big, and even the more regrettable, albeit enjoyable, Switch. Among the numerous screen adaptations of Mary Rodgers' 1972 kid-lit classic, the 2003 version of Freaky Friday—starring Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan—remains the pinnacle. That Mark Waters-directed feature elevated the material with zesty dialogue (courtesy of writers Heather Hach and Leslie Dixon), energetic physical comedy, and an electrifying chemistry between its leads, decisively eclipsing the 1976 iteration starring Jodie Foster and Barbara Harris. Regrettably, the new follow-up, Freakier Friday—a Disney-branded "freakquel"—fails to capture even a sliver of the original's humor. One searches in vain for a moment as sharp as Lohan’s iconic high school grunge rocker, Anna Coleman, waking up in the body of her psychotherapist mother, Tess, and screaming in horror at her reflection: “I’m like the crypt-keeper!”

Directed by Nisha Ganatra, the film arrives 22 years later, substituting the original's lighthearted buoyancy and charm for a form of manufactured chaos that feels both aggressive and strained. A viewer’s enjoyment is likely to be dictated by their tolerance for Curtis, whose performance is dialed up to a maximalist volume of manic screechiness, rendering her recurring character, Donna, from The Bear seemingly demure by comparison. The central tension that fueled the first film—the intergenerational sparring caused by rebellious teenage Anna’s resentment over Tess's plan to marry Ryan (Mark Harmon) and replace her late husband—is severely diluted here. Writer Jordan Weiss (Dollface) adheres closely to the original template but structurally doubles the swapping shenanigans, a choice that stretches the scenario's awkward hilarity perilously thin and ultimately causes audience disinterest.

The sequel’s central conflict revolves around a new impending disruption to the family dynamic: single mother Anna’s approaching wedding to Eric (Manny Jacinto), a widowed British restaurateur she has known for only six whirlwind months. Predictably, Anna’s surly 15-year-old daughter, Harper (Julia Butters), fiercely opposes being uprooted and moved to London, while Eric’s 15-year-old daughter, Lily (Sophia Hammons), is equally hostile to the idea of remaining in Los Angeles and missing out on fashion school in England. The teenagers' mutual animosity culminates in a tedious bake-sale food fight—a sequence that feels instantly recognizable as "pure Disney Channel" fare.

The filmmakers are sensible enough to dispense with the original’s problematic "Asian voodoo" fortune-cookie factor, though returning cast members Rosalind Chao and Lucille Soong are left with minimal involvement. The new mystical element is introduced via the bargain-basement psychic Madame Jen (Vanessa Bayer, who delivers an earnest performance for scant reward). Madame Jen intuitively senses the older Colemans’ lifelines have previously intersected and, without understanding the origin of the phrase, tasks the teenagers with the cryptic mantra: “Change the hearts you know are wrong, to reach the place where you belong.” An unmistakable rumbling earthquake—a signal familiar to any fan of the first film—occurs at midnight. Subsequently, Anna and Tess find themselves in the bodies of Harper and Lily, respectively, and vice versa. As expected, panic, confusion, and a major disruption in the marriage plans ensue, forcing the four women to experience life through alternate lenses in pursuit of the empathy that was previously elusive.

A significant issue is that the adult versions of Anna and Tess are inherently less engaging than their younger counterparts. While it is a genuine pleasure to see Lohan return to one of her most beloved roles, the plot device of making Anna a music-biz manager attempting to prevent her heartbroken client, Ella (Maitreyi Ramakrishnan), from having a meltdown before a major Wiltern concert is a transparent and laborious mechanism designed only to shoehorn Anna’s former band, Pink Slip, into a flashy concert climax. Ganatra and Weiss favor a mechanical, rather than escalating, structure, with far too many scenes functioning merely as montage fodder that fail to advance the central narrative: Anna/Harper surfing, Tess/Lily taking a reckless spin in a borrowed sports car, Lily/Tess substituting in a vicious pickleball match, or Harper/Anna improvising during an immigration office interview to determine the legitimacy of Anna and Eric’s marriage plans. The latter yields some cringe-inducing comedy, specifically featuring the immigration officer (Santina Muha) tearfully fixating on Chumbawamba’s “Tubthumping.” The phrase "pissing the night away" seems particularly apt while viewing this sequence.

The nadir arrives during Ella’s photoshoot for a Rolling Stone feature, where she is bizarrely dressed as a giant strawberry or a birthday cake (a knowing nod to Katy Perry). This scene is violently interrupted by Anna/Harper and Tess/Lily, who raid the wardrobe racks for new outfits more congruent with their newfound inner selves. The reliance on hideously ugly fashions for humor—such as Lily's questionable denim monstrosity—renders the comedy even thinner, although costumer Natalie O’Brien later gives Curtis a garish pink ruched dress that almost makes the denim forgivable. The film is arguably loud, colorful, zany, and kooky enough to mask the desperation in a script that shows minimal imagination for the psychological hurdles inherent in three different generations struggling to comprehend one another.

Because they are forging their own characters rather than revisiting roles from decades ago, Butters (who has impressively matured since her performance in Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time in Hollywood) and Hammons prove appealing, managing to squeeze some genuine humor from the incongruity of teenagers suddenly grappling with adult responsibilities. Jacinto also brings easygoing warmth and a dash of poignancy to his role as the affianced restaurateur. However, if Harmon’s Ryan in the 2003 film felt wan, the sequel’s version of him is so evanescent that his presence is nearly forgotten. The integration of Chad Michael Murray’s character, Jake (Anna’s former high school flame), is a particularly shameless exercise in calculated nostalgia, serving zero function other than to pull him back into the story so he can rediscover his "burning passion" for Tess (now Lily/Tess), resulting in scenes that are profoundly embarrassing. Unsurprisingly, the film concludes with a platitudinous declaration that “Family is everything,” melting away all differences to suggest the melding of the two families is finally achievable.

Ultimately, the film is a painfully stretched cash-grab, leading one to conclude that a shot-for-shot remake would have been the preferable creative direction.