The Twits – Review
Roald Dahl’s ‘The Twits’ is something special. Showcasing Dahl’s sharp wit through a self contained collection of grotty misshaps and villainous one upmanships played out by two of the most horrendous characters in the whole of children’s fiction. By playing on the grotesque energy and vileness of Mr and Mrs Twit Dahl left behind a book for the ages, a lesson on being nice and characters that leave the same repulsive taste in the mouth today as they did were when originally written.
Where Dahl left his spiteful cold hearted characters in their own tiny world this latest Dahl adaptation takes the gruesome twosome and inflates their grim little fable into a sprawling, layered world full of new characters and universe expanding cameos in order to fulfil the promise of a wider Netflix/Dahl extended universe made up of the characters from his extensive library.
Whilst that might not immediately appeal to the purists, there is a lot to enjoy from this adventure. Where the titular twosome might fit well into an animated special or short, sustaining a feature would undoubtably be hard work, so the alternative of weaving them into someone else’s story works really well. The someone else in question are Beesha and Bubsy Balti (a nice linguistic nod to Charlie ‘Bucket’) orphans in search of a place to call home and placing this film under the category of grotesque adults clashing with sharper witted young adversaries. It’s refreshing to see South Asian leads in the form of two young characters who have clear autonomy and a mission. As a somewhat original character Beesha fits well into The Twits universe. While Bubsy ends up more as a sidekick to his sisters story and could have been given a stronger arc, both performances however bring needed energy and freshness.
The Twits. (L to R) Natalie Portman as Mary Muggle-Wump, Maitreyi Ramakrishnan as Beesha, Ryan Lopez as Bubsy, in The Twits. Cr. Courtesy of Netflix © 2025
Fans of Dahl’s original book will grimace at the sound of these changes. Not every classic gag makes the leap to screen played out like the book, which might feel like a missed opportunity. Yet the new additions feel thoughtful and with purpose presented to broaden the story and to make this feature-length world feel justified. In that sense, The Twits succeeds capturing the essence of Dahl’s cruel humour while giving it a modern pulse.
That modernity comes not only from the film’s expanded plot but also from its themes. Beneath the slapstick and slime lies a pointed commentary about the dangers of blindly following loud, deceptive figures, a note that rings depressingly true in the current era. It’s not subtle, but it works, and the satire sits neatly within the exaggerated, scuzzy world the film builds. Here is where the film shines and presents something with surprising substance, making use of fictions foulest felons.
The Twits. (L to R) Margo Martindale as Mrs. Twit, Johnny Vegas as Mr. Twit, in The Twits. Cr. Courtesy of Netflix © 2025
The animation itself showcases some adventurous moments. The camera swoops, jolts, and lurches with the grotesque energy of its subjects. With point-of-view shots, quick jump scares, and lingering close ups that give the film a tangible nastiness that feels perfectly Dahlian. In design terms, it leans closer to Laika than Illumination being gritty, textural, a-symmetrical and proudly weird. The Muggle-Wumps resemble something straight out of Missing Link, while Mr. Twit could easily wander into ParaNorman without anyone blinking.
Though retconning the Muggle-Wumps as magical creatures from Loompa Land works well enough, less successful are the “fuzzball” side characters who appear and seem clearly designed with merchandising in mind. They add little to the plot and feel like an attempt to conjure a new line of Minions. It’s a cynical touch and a trap that a lot of features fall into.
The Twits. Johnny Vegas as Mr. Twit in The Twits. Cr. Courtesy of Netflix © 2025
Johnny Vegas delivers a standout turn as Mr. Twit, balancing grotesque buffoonery with flashes of genuine menace. You get the sense the actors were encouraged to improvise, and that looseness pays off, there’s a brilliantly silly gag about confusing “diarrhoea” with “diorama.” There’s also a moment involving a dead father’s watch, which lands exactly the way you’d expect from a seasoned comic like Vegas.
Mrs. Twit, meanwhile, is as vile as ever, though one might wish for a bit more of her book counterpart’s twisted inventiveness as opposed to the ambitious uber-Karen we are delivered. The southern states American drawl of Margo Martindale and St Helens own Johnny Vegas make quite the odd couple. The relationship between the Twits is still gloriously toxic though, and the film milks it where it can, gross, frequently funny, and always unpleasant in exactly the right way.
The Twits. (L to R) Margo Martindale as Mrs. Twit, Johnny Vegas as Mr. Twit, in The Twits. Cr. Courtesy of Netflix © 2025
The Twit’s is a bold, messy, and unapologetically weird attempt to expand the world of Dahl using some of his best known characters. It might not be the definitive adaptation of the authors work, but it’s one of the more entertaining ones. It respects the story’s spirit while expanding it in service of the promise of a wider universe without forgetting the purpose of the original story, offering a grotesque morality tale that’s both timely and timeless.
The Twits is out on Netflix from the 17 October