A Goofy Movie hits different as a parent

When it was first released it kind of came and went. Sandwiched in between 1994’s The Lion King and 1997’s Hercules – two heavy hitters of Disney’s second Golden Age renaissance – a plucky coming-of-age tale about one of the studio’s oldest characters wrestling with fatherhood wasn’t exactly seen as the most exciting thing ever for Disney’s young audience. So why are we still talking about A Goofy Movie three decades later?

Make no mistake, the emphasis here lies firmly on the “we” bit of that sentence. A quick Google search on the legacy of this overlooked film shows plenty of fans who now consider A Goofy Movie anything but a long-forgotten afterthought of Disney’s (mostly) critically-praised 90s oeuvre. In fact, Disney+ have recognised as much, producing a whole documentary on its unexpected afterlife, Not Just a Goof, to coincide with the film’s 30th birthday.

So why has Goofy’s first headline outing endured despite a slow start? Viewed through the laptop-weary eyes of an overworked adult, this easily dismissed father-and-son tale emerges as something wholly different from just another colourful, kid-focused animation. What’s more, if you first viewed the film as a child and now find yourself as the parent of one, A Goofy Movie wastes no time hitting you square in the feels.

Like many pop-culture lovers currently drudging through the sludge of their late 30s, I remember A Goofy Movie coming and going pretty well. Story-wise, it was harmless enough. Directed by Kevin Lima, it told a touching tale about Disney’s gap-toothed anthropomorphic dog (he is a dog, right?) struggling to maintain a relationship with his awkward teenage son Max. In an attempt to salvage things, Goofy takes Max on a cross-country road trip – but it’s soon pulled off course.

As a kid, your entry point into A Goofy Movie is very much the latter part of this dynamic. Struggling with his place in the world while longing to be one of the popular kids, Max’s main interests are high school crushes and Powerline, a slick-dancing pop star that’s definitely not Michael Jackson but also totally 100% Michael Jackson at the same time. Much like Max, many of us would be lying if we said our childhood priorities lay anywhere near the urge to solidify a sturdy bond with a hot mess father figure who’s – quite literally – a giant goof.

However, cut to three decades later, and the worries at the centre of Goofy’s pure-hearted yet bumbling attempts at bonding with his only son are impossible to ignore, especially if you’re a parent. For 90s kids who now find themselves as millennial dads pretending to know what the heck they’re doing when it comes to steering the life of a little one, A Goofy Movie ends up hitting far closer to home than any other Disney other movie of that era.

It’s something many fans have picked up on, forcing them to reassess the film. Even if your child is years away from experiencing the struggles similar to Max’s angsty adolescence, it’s hard for new dads to watch the film and not put themselves in Goofy’s over-sized shoes. How do you remain part of your child’s life when every fibre of their being is yearning for independence? What is the right balance of hands-on and hands-off parenting at such a raw time? How would you deal with a sudden loss of innocence as your child becomes a young adult – and could any of us honestly say we won’t one day end up embarrassing them just as much as Goofy?

As we realise none of us have any answers, we also notice that our entry point into A Goofy Movie has switched. Instead of emphasising with schoolyard cliques and musical fandom, it’s Goofy’s urge to ensure he raises a loving, empathetic and well-rounded adult that becomes the film’s focal point. Sure. It isn’t exactly on the same culture-shattering wave-length of Netflix’s sobering hit Adolescence – but its overarching themes of doing the right thing as a parent are exactly the same.

There’s an entire Reddit thread dedicated to this whole tricky topic – and honestly, it’s kind of heartbreaking to read other people’s fatherly connections to the film. Suddenly, seemingly innocent scenes – like Goofy telling his son about his love of alphabet soup, something baby Max called ‘Hi Dad Soup’ due to his love of using it to spell out loving phrases – take on a teary new weight. Do similar conversations await us in our future? If they do, fingers crossed we’ll handle them half as well as Goofy did.

Likewise, this table-turn provides a new perspective on the relationship you had with your own parents and what they must’ve thought about your goofy teenage mess-ups. Were you too hard on them at times? If you could go back and be easier on your embarrassing folks, would you? Both sides of this quandary are summed up in an exchange that has aged like a gut punch. “I have my own life now,” Max yells at his Dad during a climactic confrontation at a key moment. “I know that,” says Goofy, solemnly, “I just want to be a part of it.” Oof.

For all of its obscurities (Disney sure wasted no time making Goofy a widow in his first feature film) and weirdness (Max’s surname is Max Goof – does that mean Goofy is called Goofy Goof?), few Disney films – of this era or any other – have aged as well as A Goofy Movie. By putting as much love, attention and depth into its adult-fronted storyline as well as its dancing Sasquatch kids plot, Lima’s film manages to do what all Disney movies aspire to do but few actually achieve: transcend generations and be meaningfully enjoyed by future audiences. For that reason alone, the title of Disney’s new documentary couldn’t be more apt.

As if that wasn’t enough, I defy you to rewatch A Goofy Movie and not end up getting Powerline’s (Tevin Campbell) genuinely catchy music stuck in your Spotify for the foreseeable. Like Goofy’s (and possibly future you’s) attempts at being seen as a cool dad, it’s physically impossible.