There is no arguing that 2016 was a momentous year for Disney; having spurned a new age of Disney animation in Moana, impacting the world through infectious animals in Zootopia, and having four of their eleven movies gross in the top ten for the entire year. There is one argument that can be made, however, and it stems from the long awaited sequel to a movie that conquered the hearts of most everyone that saw it. I am talking, of course, about Finding Dory, which happened to be the #1 top grossing film of 2016. The argument is whether it surpassed or failed to meet the expectations set by such a moving predecessor. To me, it didn’t even come close.

Finding Dory certainly had its moments. Hank, the octopus, was a fascinating character to watch. The way he swung around the aquarium, camouflaging with anything in his vicinity to avoid being caught was entirely captivating. His character development was a highlight of the movie for me, as well. Going from complacent isolation to genuinely caring and wanting to help Dory find success all while remaining sardonically smug was a believable progression and earned Hank the spot of my favorite character. The banter between the whales, albeit simple and meager, was hilarious. Bailey discovering his “beautiful gift” had me busting a gut the three or four times it happened. Unfortunately, the characters were really the only part of Finding Dory worth remembering, and they paled in comparison to the quality and merit of the characters in its prequel.

Finding Nemo boasted a collection of unique, heartwarming, and persistently hysterical characters in every segment of the narrative: the sneering fathers with their equally ridiculous offspring (“Aww you guys made me ink!”, “I’m gonna touch the butt!...”), Crush, the radical sea turtle everybody knows and loves, voiced by writer/director, Andrew Stanton, the aquarium fish who help Nemo escape, and lastly the hysterical shark trio of Bruce, Anchor, and Chum. All the characters in Finding Nemo brought something to the table that was reflected in Marlin’s interactions with them. The dads brought Marlin’s insecurities to the forefront; Crush allowed Marlin to see his own self-doubt and to recognize it as a hindrance; and the sharks were not only arguably the funniest scene in the movie, but also helped establish Marlin’s virtues as a father in a time of dire urgency (refusing to abandon the mask even as it’s literally dangling from a shark’s jaws). Each interaction with a character progressed not only the story, but also our understanding of who Marlin is and why Nemo is so important to him, which of course we know from the first scene, but the characters don’t know that. In Finding Dory, the characters are pivotal to Dory’s search, as she wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without Hank’s stealth, or Bailey’s sonar. Therein lies the difference. In Finding Nemo, the characters are sincerely inspired by Marlin’s love for his son, and upon seeing him risk his life to find him, they elect to do their part to help. In Finding Dory, every character acts as Dory’s doormat (Doorymat, yes I saw that), not even questioning to hold out information or sympathy. This is probably since Dory’s search isn’t as vital as Marlin’s was, and it’s fairly rudimentary for them to point her in the direction of the quarantine. The point is Marlin’s journey changed everyone around him, whereas Dory’s search was more of a minor annoyance in the daily lives of the characters, apart from Hank.

Let’s not forget the most iconic character of the franchise, herself. Dory goes through significant changes throughout Finding Nemo; learning what commitment feels like, discovering her ability to remember specifics, and she’s also the only ocean dweller we know of that’s able to read. At the conclusion of Finding Nemo, she has somewhat of a revelation, recalling the entire journey with Marlin, and essentially combating her short-term memory loss for good. It’s almost as if they had to dumb Dory down again for her to learn the same lessons in Finding Dory. One of the most prominent themes in the film is her inability to count to 10, forgetting what she’s doing after just three or four seconds. In the turtle scene of Finding Nemo, she literally counts to thirty while playing hide-and-seek with the turtle children. Of course, this is something the writers did not foresee or think about during the making of Finding Nemo, but it goes to show that there is a notable dumbing down of Dory’s character in the sequel.

The glaring distinction between the two movies was the severity of the search, and the peril involved. The very first scene in Finding Nemo sets the tone for the entire pursuit. There is clear indication of a massacre, with Marlin’s entire family being eaten by a barracuda. Once Nemo is taken, Marlin and Dory flirt with death countless times: sharks, jellyfish, anglerfish, etc, which created sympathy and the incentive for success from the viewers. Finding Dory doesn’t once touch on the possibility of death, and since she doesn’t even know if her parents are alive or at the aquarium there really is nothing for her to lose. In a similar light, the entire second half of Finding Nemo, I am drowning in unrelenting tears. Throughout Finding Dory, I felt that I was more or less supposed to be crying, or expected to cry. There were several examples of forced sentimentality that came off as pandering and more annoying than touching. The very end epitomizes my point, whereas in Finding Nemo, the authenticity of the ending had me sobbing through the credits.

Finding Nemo is among my favorite Pixar movies, and one of my favorite animated films of all time. Finding Dory is a good movie, sure, but it does not even come close to the emotional investment and hopeful uncertainty involved in Finding Nemo. I pray they don’t make a third film in the franchise, but if they do, they’d better bring back Bruce, Anchor, and Chum, or I’ll be sorely disappointed.