Veteran writer-director Karey Kirkpatrick—whose credits include The Rescuers Down Under, both Chicken Run films, Over the Hedge, Charlotte’s Web, The Spiderwick Chronicles and Smallfoot—is currently working on a new Peanuts feature with WildBrain and Peanuts Worldwide for Apple. Fresh off a fireside chat at Ireland’s Animation Dingle festival, he spoke with Kidscreen about shifting audience habits, the enduring power of family films, and why strong characters still drive everything.

Q: You’ve worked in animated features and family storytelling for decades. What continues to draw you to stories for younger audiences?

A: Part of it is that there’s still a kid in me that thinks that way. I started pretty young—I was 23 when I got my job at Disney. But I also believe that adults turn to movies and TV primarily to be entertained, whereas kids go there to learn how to live their lives. They’re figuring out how to problem-solve, how to resolve conflict, how to see themselves in other characters. That’s kind of an amazing thing—and something I didn’t fully appreciate when I was a kid myself.

Q: How have streaming and changing viewing habits impacted storytelling?
A: There’s just more competition for attention now—TikTok, YouTube, everything. It’s changed attention spans, which means you have to grab people quickly. You might only get five or 10 minutes.

We learned that lesson on Over the Hedge. Jeffrey Katzenberg pushed us to rethink the opening so audiences knew right away it was a comedy. That led to the raccoon vs. vending machine scene—something that delivered laughs immediately.

Q: What do family films offer that other entertainment options like YouTube and gaming don’t?
A: I still believe in the power of story. People want to go on a journey. They want to engage with characters, see themselves in them and watch them struggle and grow. Ultimately, audiences want to lean in and ask, “What’s going to happen next?” That’s our job as storytellers—to keep earning that curiosity.

You also can’t be boring anymore—you have to keep introducing new ideas, escalating stakes. And there’s a real value in shared viewing. Families still want things they can watch together. Those are the projects that really hit.

Q: You’ve written for both animation and live action. What’s the biggest difference in how you approach storytelling between the two?
A: Animation allows for more allegory and more archetypal characters. You’re often anthropomorphizing animals or objects, but really you’re telling human stories in those forms. In many ways, animated films today are like modern Aesop’s fables. They’re morality tales. Look at Inside Out—it literally turns emotions into characters. That’s something animation does incredibly well.

It also invites you to create worlds we haven’t seen before—whether that’s inside a human body or at a microscopic level. You can do that in live action, but animation just embraces it in a different way.

Q: Do you prefer working in animation or live action?
A: I work really well in animation because it’s an iterative process. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. You’re constantly refining, improving, rewriting.

In live action, you might turn in one draft and be done—or be replaced. In animation, you’re expected to keep going, to keep making it better. That suits how I like to work.

Q: How do you balance honoring a legacy IP with evolving it for today’s audiences?
A: You have to give audiences what they expect, but also surprise them. The fundamentals of storytelling still apply—you can’t just rehash what’s come before.

With Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget, once we landed on the idea that this time the chickens were breaking in instead of breaking out, everything clicked. That gave us a fresh framework—a heist movie—and new characters, like Molly (Ginger and Rocky’s daughter) and a new villain.

With something like Peanuts, it’s about staying true to the canon—that’s incredibly important—but also making something that still feels relevant today. A lot has changed since the ’60s, so you have to find that balance.

Q: How do you maintain a strong creative vision in a collaborative medium?
A: I’ve learned that the best setup is a small central creative team—three to five people. Three is great because it breaks ties, and five can work well too. Beyond that, it gets chaotic.

You want input from everyone—great ideas can come from anywhere—but you need a small group making the final decisions. Otherwise, you end up with what I call a “camel”—a horse designed by committee.

Q: What’s one storytelling rule you love to break?
A: The idea that characters have to be likable. I think that note gets thrown around too easily. Some of the best movies have characters who aren’t likable at all—but you understand them and empathize with them. Groundhog Day is a great example. Bill Murray’s Phil Connors is not likable at the beginning, but you go on the journey with him.

The rule I never break, though, is that characters have to want something. Even if they can’t express it, they need a want. That’s what makes stories universal.

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Q: One family film you wish you’d been part of?
A: Ratatouille, Inside Out, Zootopia.

Q: Dream dinner guest from your character portfolio?
A: Ginger from Chicken Run—she’s optimistic, principled and stands up for others. That would be a great conversation. 

Q: Worst dinner guest?
A: Mrs. Tweedy [the villain from Chicken Run]—humorless, greedy and not exactly someone you’d want to share a meal with.

Q: Best note you ever received?
A: On Chicken Run, we had a scene where Ginger was very directly saying what she was feeling. One of the producers suggested, “What if they talked about it without talking about it?”—using something smaller to express the bigger emotion. She even threw out a casual idea about Ginger asking Rocky to describe grass.

That note completely unlocked the scene. It turned into a moment where Rocky is trying—and failing—to confess something important, while they’re talking about grass instead. It made the scene funnier, more emotional and much more layered. It’s a great example of how a simple note can elevate a scene by making it less literal and more human.

Q: Worst note?
A: “Grouchy Smurf is a little one-note.”

Q: A note that made you laugh?
A: “Can you better explain the improbability drive?” on Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.