Animated films have been hurting recently. Big studios like Illumination and Disney spent last year pumping out critical flops like “Wish” and “Migration” while upcoming guaranteed successes like “Spider-Man: Beyond the Spider-Verse” pushed back release dates, allegedly because of unstable working conditions on the previous movie in the series.

John Krasinski’s “IF” was a breath of fresh air. The live-action animated film sported a star-studded cast and an imaginative, original story. Unfortunately, its greatest aspects could not save it from its own aimlessness.

As Bea (Cailey Fleming) struggles to face an upcoming surgery her father (Krasinski) must undergo, she encounters and becomes enthralled in the world of others’ imaginary friends, the titular “IFs.” She finds a community of these IFs that have been “forgotten” by the children — now adults — who created them. Thus begins her quest to give these IFs a purpose. 

The IF community is filled to the brim with star power. Phoebe Waller-Bridge leads the friends as the British butterfly ballerina Blossom, and Steve Carrell follows as the big, purple Blue. Famous names line the cast all the way down to the invisible, unspeaking Keith, played by Brad Pitt. While not all the star power translates to the screen, every moviegoer will surely hear a few voices they recognize.

For Krasinski, “IF” was a change of pace. The director received his breakout film in “A Quiet Place” (2018), which was particularly more terrifying than this whimsical film. “IF” is more reminiscent of Krasinski’s earlier, lesser-known “The Hollars” (2016), which coincidentally also centers on a medical emergency. Whereas Krasinski’s skills as a director still hold up, his first solo screenplay fails to hold the tension.

In some cases, the writing is succinct and powerful. In particular, the first scene immediately tugs at viewers’ heartstrings. 

The montage of family moments between a younger Bea (Audrey Hoffman), her father and her mother (Catharine Daddario) subtly alludes to the mother’s deteriorating health without breaking the tone. As the montage goes on, the joyful moments cut from a home environment to a hospital. The mother still brings the same energy, but now from a hospital bed, clearly in the middle of chemotherapy. It is heartbreaking, concise and sets an emotional bar that the rest of the film could not come close to reaching.

One such casualty of the rest of the film’s writing is Ryan Reynolds’ character. Reynolds plays Cal — Bea’s pessimistic mentor — sufficiently, considering the material given. Cal does not develop as a character at all, and his actions and demeanor early in the film go unexplained, weakening his emotional resonance.

At the same time, everyone’s dialogue comes off as clunky and overdone. Every character attempts to make a profound point without sounding insincere, failing on both fronts. The best dialogue comes from characters who speak candidly about the film’s whimsy, such as Lewis, the founder of the IF community played by the late Louis Gossett Jr.

In contrast to the film’s writing, the visuals were wonderfully creative. In fact, there were multiple sequences throughout the film in which the plot seemed to be little more than a device to get from one scenic stroll or dance number to the next.

Sometimes, this pays off in spades. The film presents its most impactful scenes almost exclusively through its visuals. Viewers will not remember Krasinski’s dad wisdom, but they will remember a dancer mid-routine, the bustle of a 1950s boardwalk or a calm hand on a trembling shoulder.

Even unimportant scenes constantly utilize the framing and set to great effect. A memorable mid-movie montage chases Cal through a constantly changing environment that leads to him melting out of a painting and stumbling into a rock concert, among other gags.

Meanwhile, the sets themselves are wonderfully laid out to emulate fantastical environments, even in everyday places like a hospital or townhouse. Bea’s imagination transforms her surroundings into something that rides the line between reality and fantasy.

Some scenes were picturesque but lively, while others were cartoony but realistic. The film’s ability to balance its IFs with its live-action characters was reminiscent of “Who Framed Roger Rabbit” (1988). Even in its worst moments, it still put “Tom & Jerry” (2021) to shame.

As a result, the IFs truly feel tangible in the world. In many cases, they seem more human than some of the live-action characters. In particular, Blue’s arc emotionally balances the plot in a way that Bea’s arc often fails to.

Much of Bea’s story intentionally avoids the incoming struggle of her dad’s surgery, but this often leaves Bea without much to want. Viewers follow Bea through fantastical worlds that her imagination creates, but the stakes remain extremely low because Bea doesn’t have a destination to reach. 

On the other hand, Blue wants to be someone’s IF. This want motivates all of Blue’s actions and allows viewers to connect with him when he does or does not achieve this. Blue’s arc touches viewers in its final moments, whereas Bea’s feels unearned, to say the least.

Of course, none of these moments would truly resonate were it not for the jaw-dropping score by Michael Giacchino. The composer of “The Batman” (2022) and “Ratatouille” (2007) fame brings another immediately recognizable motif to all of the film’s most heartfelt moments. The brass rises up and ebbs down with all the emotion Giacchino brought to his extensive previous work, much of which can be found in classic hits by Pixar Animation Studios.

In the words of Reynolds, “[‘IF’] feels a bit like a live-action Pixar film.” From the cast to the score to the emotional core of the film, this claim holds up. Unfortunately, the lackluster main plot ensures that this film will not go down as one of the classics.