Many modern screenwriters seem to believe that stuffing their films with every subplot from their brainstorming sessions is an adequate substitute for layered and cohesive storytelling that builds organically. They are wrong. However, when you consider that Smurfs screenwriter Pam Brady co-wrote alongside Trey Parker and Matt Stone on both the South Park series and movie, as well as Team America, and what strong proponents of storytelling via logical progression those two are, Smurf's threadbare plot-weaving is particularly egregious.

Smurfs (2025) is the narrative equivalent of dumping a bucket of Legos on the floor and calling the pile a boat. Without exaggeration, Pam and her team crapped out an average of one new plot/subplot every 9 minutes, and each with barely enough effort to be labeled "minimal" and even less artistry or creativity.

Yet, somehow, with ten or more flimsy stories unfolding simultaneously, Team Pam managed to squeeze in no fewer than four Smurf-themed Rihanna music videos/product placements throughout. However, director Chris Miller can't even handle those. There's a scene that takes place in a French discotheque, and it's clear that no music or even a metronome was playing to help the extras keep a uniform rhythm. I wouldn't be surprised if Miller told them all to think of their favorite dance song and let loose.

Not even the star-studded cast (B and C-listers) can do more with this disasterously bad script than phone it in, with one exception. The mentally ill trans activist JP Karliak, who voices Gargamel's younger brother, and this film's main villain, goes all out, delivering a dynamic performance that probably could have been a fun one with a script worth more than toilet paper and a director who wasn't asleep during filming.

When you boil it down, Smurfs (2025) is a giant steaming pile of smurf that's best scooped up and dumped in the trash bin.