David (2025)

Close-up of a young man with wavy brown hair, olive skin, and green eyes, looking off-camera with a concerned expression; in the background, soldiers in ancient armor stand amidst stone ruins.

Angel Studios’ animated biblical musical David represents another venture into faith-based cinema, a sector that has been steadily carving out theatrical real estate in recent years. This feature-length outing follows their animated miniseries Young David, charting the shepherd boy’s path from Bethlehem’s hills to Israel’s throne. What results is a visually accomplished film that understands its primary audience rather well, though it fumbles when trying to extend that conversation to viewers beyond the congregation.

We open on young David (Brandon Engman providing the voice, later Phil Wickham) tending his flock and perfecting his aim with a sling against hungry predators. If the narrative significance of that particular skill escapes you at this point, you might want to brush up on your Old Testament. When the prophet Samuel turns up unannounced to anoint this startled teenager as Israel’s future king, David finds himself yanked from pastoral simplicity into something considerably messier. Political intrigue, military campaigns, and a deteriorating relationship with the increasingly paranoid King Saul all follow. The famous showdown with Goliath the Philistine giant gets its due, naturally, but the film deserves credit for not treating that encounter as the entire story. Saul’s jealous unravelling as David’s star rises provides the real dramatic spine here.

On the visual front, David manages something noteworthy. Sunrise Animation Studios has delivered environments with genuine depth and colour palettes that occasionally brush against DreamWorks quality. The character designs prioritise expression over photorealism, which serves the story’s emotional register well. Animals receive anthropomorphic touches without crossing into full Disneyfication. They don’t speak or wear waistcoats, but their eyes convey plenty. Jonas Myrin’s musical score, recorded with the Budapest Film Orchestra, offers some genuine highlights. “Tapestry,” a mother-son duet, carries real warmth. “Follow the Light” brings energy when the pace flags. These songs actually propel the narrative rather than simply parking it for three minutes, which already puts them ahead of half the musical adaptations currently circulating.

But the film never quite resolves its identity crisis. It wants to minister to its core faith-based constituency with clear moral instruction. Fair enough. It also wants to reach families who might not share those theological commitments. Reasonable ambition. The trouble is trying to do both simultaneously without alienating either group. The result tips into didacticism more often than I suspect the filmmakers intended. Some sequences exist purely to deliver lessons, and the pedagogical scaffolding becomes visible. The pacing reflects this uncertainty too. Early sections take their time establishing David’s humble credentials, then the ending rushes past as though someone suddenly noticed the clock. The Goliath sequence works competently enough but can’t escape the gravitational pull of every previous adaptation, from silent shorts to Richard Gere’s 1985 attempt.

The voice cast makes an interesting choice by avoiding household names entirely. This removes the cognitive interference of recognising celebrity voices, which can be a gift. It also means some performances lack the technical precision that seasoned voice actors might bring. Emotional peaks sometimes fall flat when the script demands nuance.

For families seeking entertainment with moral frameworks that don’t require interpretation, David provides exactly what it advertises. The film maintains child-appropriate boundaries even during battle sequences, and younger viewers will find enough visual stimulation to stay engaged. Those arriving from more secular starting points may find the homiletic elements a bit insistent. The film declines to interrogate the moral complexities embedded in its source material. Questions about predetermined destiny, the exercise of power, the necessity of violence. All left unexamined, which feels like missed opportunities for richer storytelling.

David achieves what it set out to accomplish: a polished retelling of foundational narrative material that will satisfy its intended audience. Whether that constitutes success depends entirely on what you expected when purchasing your ticket.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.