IN 2003's Finding Nemo, Pixar lost a little orange clownfish named Nemo. Then they found Nemo. And now, more than a decade later, they're looking for Dory. She's a blue fish (voiced by Ellen DeGeneres) with short-term memory loss, and she gets lost a lot, in ways that're actually extremely harrowing. Dory is so vulnerable—so easily swept away, such easy pickings for disaster—that it stressed me out in a way that a cartoon hasn't done since Bambi or Watership Down.
In many ways, Finding Nemo and Dory are textbook examples of self-help. Looking for your independence? You're a Nemo. How about the courage to let your child grow up? You're Nemo's dad, Marlin. Now we have help for all the Dorys, in which forgetful people or kids with ADHD can learn to trust themselves. Luckily, this life lesson comes with adorable otters cuddling, sea lions cracking wise, and an octopus named Hank inking himself. It's the type of counsel that goes down like oysters on the half shell—kinda goopy, but palatable.
Finding Dory is, at least, better than Pixar's so-so original: It's funnier and more emotional, and it's intriguing to watch the antics at a marine life rescue park, which largely serves as Dory's setting. (Post-Blackfish, Pixar is careful to note the captive sea creatures inside are meant to be rehabilitated then released, not to be exploited and degraded for human amusement.) It's a great setting for Dory's journey to find her lost family, even as you're freaking out that, unlike a wandering child, there's no way to pin a note on her. She can't even get Memento tattoos. We just have to helplessly watch as crucial info goes in one of her little blue fish ears and right out the other, like watching your mom suffer from Alzheimer's. But way funnier, guys! Seriously, those otters are freaking great.