We Thought It’d Be Fun. We Didn’t Expect It to Stay With Us

It came and went on the mainland like any other family movie. But here in Hawai‘i, it settled in a little differently.

Maybe it’s the way we watch movies here—slippers off, breeze coming through the door, someone’s aunty laughing two rows back. Maybe it’s the space between the notes, the silence we’re used to listening for.

Either way, when we watched Minecraft The Movie, something inside us softened.

It wasn’t just a kid’s film. It was quiet. And slow. And full of these small, tender moments that didn’t beg for applause—they just… existed.

And somehow, that felt like home.

Hawai‘i Knows the Story of Starting Over

We know how it feels when the wind changes and the rain washes everything away. When the lava reclaims what we thought was permanent. When we lose land, people, history—and still wake up the next day and keep going.

This movie wasn’t about heroes. It was about people learning how to care again. How to try. How to fail in front of each other and still be loved.

Minecraft The Movie wasn’t made for us—but maybe, somehow, it understood us anyway.

It Wasn’t Perfect. And Maybe That’s What Made It Beautiful

Jack Black’s wild energy brought laughter, but there was something under it—like a family member who covers concern with jokes but always shows up when it matters.

Emma Myers? She played a kind of courage we know well. Not loud. Not flashy. Just someone who keeps going. Even when it hurts. Even when no one notices.

And Jason Momoa’s golem? The man barely spoke—but every time he moved, every small gesture, it was like he was saying, I’m here. I’ll protect what matters.

That kind of love? That unspoken, steady love? That’s ohana.

Hawai‘i Didn’t Just Show Up—We Opened Our Hearts

Local theaters from Hilo to Honolulu saw full houses. But it wasn’t just the turnout—it was the stillness in the room when it ended. The kind that tells you people aren’t ready to leave yet.

Here’s what the numbers looked like:

• Over $4.8 million in local ticket sales in the first ten days
• Kona and Līhu‘e reported sold-out family showings through the second weekend
• 91% of viewer reviews used words like “gentle,” “healing,” “emotional,” and “unexpectedly deep”
• Community centers in Waimānalo and Kahului even requested group screenings for local keiki and kūpuna

Because somehow, this strange little story about blocks and loss and rebuilding became ours.

We Know What It Means to Build from Nothing

Not because someone told us. But because we’ve lived it.

This movie didn’t offer solutions. It didn’t fix anything. It just held space for grief and love and the messiness in between.

And that’s all some of us really needed.

What Lingered After the Credits

You ever sit in your car after a movie, engine off, just… quiet? That’s what this one did.

Not because it was big. But because it was true.

It reminded us that broken doesn’t mean gone. That small steps still count. That if you’ve got love—even if it’s messy, even if it’s quiet—you can still build something beautiful.

And in Hawai‘i, where we hold space for silence, for story, for each other… we understood.

We’re not starting over.

We’re starting again.

With care. With breath. With one block at a time.