KUNG FU PANDA. Destined for Success [REVIEW]

Kung Fu Panda (2008) opens with the dream of the main character, an awkward panda named Po. In his vision, he is a legendary warrior of immense strength and extraordinary skill. Even the strongest opponents fear him. At the same time, he is a symbol of peace, justice, and spiritual balance. The stylized, comic book–like intro of the film effectively surrounds the warrior with an aura of mystery. The contrasting color palette—colliding blacks with various shades of red—gives the events a sense of gravity, while the aggressive, almost blinding spots of light fill each frame with mysticism.

However, this is not the Po we meet right afterward. His father, Mr. Ping, wakes him from his dream with a shout. Our hero must return to his duties and serve bowls of noodles to the restaurant’s customers. Po barely squeezes between the tables, trips over his own feet, and clumsily maneuvers among the guests. The main character is instantly stripped of all heroism and splendor. We are violently brought down to earth with him. His dream shatters in confrontation with reality.

The first two scenes are not juxtaposed by accident. DreamWorks’ animation deals with the irony and paradoxes of fate. The world of Kung Fu Panda is filled with them at every turn. They are manifested, of course, in the character portrayals, but also in the plot devices, the handling of props, and the staging of action scenes. The prime example is the scene with the feather, drifting innocently through the different levels of a prison—guarded by thousands of soldiers and supposedly impossible to escape—and landing next to Tai Lung, who is imprisoned at the very bottom.

This delicate object turns out to be exactly what the film’s antagonist needs to free himself from the chains that restrain him. The seemingly insignificant feather becomes, for one of the characters, a precious prize.

The mythical scroll containing the secret kung fu technique is treated in the opposite way. It is the highest honor, meant only for the chosen one—the Dragon Warrior. Yet this artifact turns out to be nothing more than a classic MacGuffin. The filmmakers consistently play with the audience, changing the directions in which the story develops. Kung Fu Panda is driven by a deceptive narrative and an unexpected sequence of events.

The protagonists of DreamWorks’ animation are anthropomorphic animals. Yet their physicality, instincts, and stereotypical traits—both physical and mental—play an important role. For a panda, it’s gluttony; for a tiger, agility; for a turtle, wisdom and slowness. This method of character portrayal, associated mainly with fairy tales, gains a deeper dimension in Kung Fu Panda, thanks to the subplot of Master Shifu—a supporting character who undergoes the most interesting internal transformation. From the very beginning, he struggles to accept Po. Shifu completely disagrees with Po’s accidental appointment as the Dragon Warrior.

He sees no potential in the main character, and any training seems pointless, since certain abilities, in his view, simply cannot be taught. Po’s clumsiness, size, and obesity are, to him, only further arguments.

It is paradoxical that Shifu cannot tolerate Po, yet without hesitation accepts that his own master is Oogway—a turtle, hardly the fastest or most agile of creatures. Just like Po, Oogway lacks the physical attributes typically required for mastery. Yet Shifu respects his teacher’s authority and shares a strong emotional bond with him. In one situation, prejudice holds power; in another, it is completely invalidated. In both cases, these biases function irrationally and selectively. In this comparison lies the universal message of DreamWorks’ production and its simple wisdom—one that can easily be translated into various kinds of social relationships, from schoolyard conflicts to broader racial tensions.

In Kung Fu Panda, we also hear echoes of Star Wars mythology. They appear in the dynamic between Po, Shifu, and Oogway, which mirrors the triangle of Luke, Obi-Wan, and Yoda, as well as in the story of two pupils, one of whom strayed and turned to “the dark side.” This is a subtly woven subtext—a treat for fans—but never an overt or hollow postmodern quotation. Kung Fu Panda is a self-contained film, free from intertextual games, both visually and in dialogue. It’s an animation with its own distinct style and personality.

DreamWorks has crafted Kung Fu Panda with elegance. It is a rich and original animation that tackles several important and timely themes, while also being packed with action, inspiring self-improvement, and encouraging dialogue between parent and child. A film destined for success—and not only a commercial one.