When you think about the Lego Movie series, your first thoughts might be of bright plastic bricks, absurd humour, and catchy songs like Everything Is Awesome! But beneath the surface, there is an important message that’s essential for today’s culture. I’ve previously reviewed the first entry in the series, which I encourage you to check out, but I want to discuss the series as a whole today because there’s an aspect of this popular series that no one is talking about.
Everyone is talking about the crisis in modern masculinity. Either it’s not present at all, or it’s present in showy but hollow ways. The boys often today are in a confusing world, where they need their fathers more then ever to provide a strong, stable foundation in manhood to guide them in these chaotic times. But many boys don’t have that at home. And that’s why these films are so powerful. The comedy and bright colours call out to the young children, but inside the films is a message to the fathers that are watching alongside their son, and the message is clear: you need to step up and be a guide for your son.
Across the four main Lego films (The Lego Movie, The Lego Ninjago Movie, The Lego Batman Movie, and The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part), there is a consistent and unflinching thread of sons struggling with the emotional fallout of paternal neglect. Each film represents a different archetype of the “father wound,” ranging from emotional neglect, to abandonment, to total absence. And together, they tell a deeper story of what happens when boys grow up without guidance, support, or emotionally available male role models.
This post is the most comprehensive discussion and breakdown of the father-son themes present in all 4 films currently released in the series. Each film has it’s own story and focus, but together there is a demanding and powerful case about a modern crisis. Today’s fathers are not modelling good behaviour for their sons, and the Lego Movie Series is a mirror showing exactly how that creates confused and misguided young men.
The Lego Movie: Emotional Neglect
Finn and his father: The father who is physically present but emotionally absent
At first glance, The Lego Movie seems to be a story about a chirpy plastic man named Emmett, a hero’s journey that mocks traditional tropes while celebrating creativity. But as the narrative unfolds, we discover this isn’t just Emmett’s story. It’s the story of a boy named Finn and his relationship with his dad.
In the live-action segments, we learn that the entire adventure is being played out in Finn’s imagination using his father’s Lego sets. But the father, who represented in the Lego world as the authoritarian tyrant Lord Business, is not interested in Finn’s story. He’s a classic example of an emotionally neglectful father: physically present but unwilling to engage with his son in a meaningful way. His hobby is his alone, and Finn’s attempts to play and connect are treated as destructive misbehaviour and meddling.
Now let me be clear, this isn’t abuse. The father doesn’t scream or threaten. He means well and probably thinks he’s doing a good job at fathering. But, he simply isn’t there in the way Finn needs. He’s either at work or absorbed in his own interests. This type of emotional neglect is one of the most common but invisible wounds boys carry into adulthood. They might grow up in homes where their basic needs are met, but where emotional support, nurturing and mutual play are absent.
By the end of the film, there’s a moment of connection. The father realises what he’s been missing, and makes an effort to change. But until then, Finn’s entire inner world has been shaped by this quiet disappointment: that his dad sees his creative expression as mess rather than meaning.
The Lego Batman Movie: Orphanhood and Emotional Repression
Batman, Robin and Alfred: The man who never learned how to be a son, let alone a father
Batman has always famously had “daddy issues,” but The Lego Batman Movie leans into them in full force. Because we already know the story of Batman, the story can afford to exaggerate this to an extreme level while still delivering an important point. Even in this extreme satire, there is truth behind it. Here, Bruce Wayne is portrayed as the ultimate emotionally stunted man-child. He lives in a giant house, avoids all emotional intimacy, and uses sarcasm and bravado to hide the deep grief of his childhood. (Sound like anyone famous you may know? Share your thoughts by posting on Crokes and tagging us @Crokes.)
Batman is an orphan, and while that’s often played for brooding drama in traditional Batman stories, this version highlights the emotional immaturity that can follow such trauma. He has no idea how to connect with people. He has no respect for Alfred, his only father figure, constantly brushing him off and refusing to acknowledge the emotional care Alfred offers. In many ways, Alfred is the stable paternal presence Batman never had but Bruce is too emotionally blocked to accept it.
The introduction of Robin adds another layer. Batman accidentally adopts him, and suddenly, he’s faced with a challenge he’s completely unprepared for, which is being a father. At first, he treats Robin like an accessory or an annoyance. But over time, Batman begins to thaw. He grows a genuine affection for the boy and develops the natural masculine desire of wanting to build up and assist a son.
Notice the parallels between Robin and Emmett. As I mentioned before, Emmett retains a childlike innocence and optimism. Emmett also has a strong desire to be liked by others and fit in, and Robin has this even more so. The big-eyed, super-helpful teacher’s pet who is bullied by the other orphans and just wants a family. Robin himself is lacking a father figure and latches on desperately to Batman as the replacement for that. Part of the reason Batman is able to emotionally mature and lean into his responsibility is be realising that Robin is a younger version of himself. A boy with no father and no family, desperately searching for a home.
What this film captures so well is the cycle of masculine emotional repression. Boys who grow up without nurturing or healthy male role models often become men who can’t connect, can’t communicate, and can’t model anything different for the next generation. Batman doesn’t just need to “grow up”, he needs to heal. His journey isn’t about becoming a better hero, it’s about becoming a better man. And that starts with learning how to let people in and accepting his responsibilities as a father.
The Lego Ninjago Movie: Abandonment and Divorce
Garmadon and Lloyd: The son who hates his absent father
The Lego Ninjago Movie goes deeper into the wounds of paternal absence. Here, we meet Lloyd, a teenager who lives under the shadow of his infamous father, Lord Garmadon. Garmadon is a villain who terrorises the city and wants nothing to do with his son.
I’d argue Lloyd’s situation is more severe then any other in the series, because his parents are divorced. He’s being raised by a single mother. And while his father is technically alive, he’s emotionally and physically absent, refusing to acknowledge Lloyd as his son. Worse, Lloyd is publicly mocked and ridiculed because of who his father is. People project their hate for Garmadon onto Lloyd. It’s a painful depiction of the way sons of absent or destructive fathers often feel blamed, alienated, or stigmatised. “The sins of the father” is painfully true.
Lloyd’s internal struggle is ugly. He’s angry, bitter, and full of self-loathing. His emotional outbursts are directed at Garmadon, but underneath that rage is a deep longing to be seen. His father, on the other hand, is absurdly immature, emotionally disconnected, and oblivious to the damage he’s caused. He’s even more immature then Batman, if such a thing is even possible. It doesn’t matter how supportive and kind his mother is, and how good of a job she might do. Sadly, even she cannot fill the void of the father Lloyd has been needing his whole life.
It’s worth noting how Lloyd is highly dependant on his mentor, Master Wu, for guidance because there is no other older male figure in his life. [A sidenote – the “real life” bookend story of Jackie Chan’s character telling this whole story to a young boy in his shop might also indicate this. We see a very small boy who is unaccompanied. He walks into a shop and is captivated by a man who could teach him how to be a ninja. Is this another boy, like Finn, with an emotionally absent father? Is this boy, like Lloyd, looking for the nearest male guide he can latch onto? We will never know for certain, but I suspect so.]
Garmadon finally learns, very awkwardly, how to demonstrate and teach vital skills to Lloyd. Garmadob is not perfect by any means but it’s worth noting that even by imperfectly teaching Lloyd some key battle skills, Lloyd’s ability to fight and protect his friends increasing exponentially. See the importance of father’s teaching their sons how to be a man? It’s crucial for their development, especially into their preteen and teen years.
The movie uses comedy to dull the edge, but the themes are sharp. It shows the destabilising emotional confusion of having a father who is biologically present but emotionally gone. The struggle to hate and love someone at the same time. And the pain of carrying the burden of someone else’s actions. Lloyd’s healing doesn’t come from revenge, but from being able to finally have his father be the guide he truly needed and fill tht void. It won;t under the wounds from before entirely, as that time can never come back, but Lloyd is able to move forward under the watchful eye and tutelage of his father Garmadon.
The Lego Movie 2: Masculinity and Role Models
Emmett and Rex Dangervest: The search for a father figure leads to a dangerous mirror
In The Lego Movie 2, the relentlessly positive and cheery Emmett returns, but the world around him has changed. What was once bright and playful has become dark and chaotic. Operating within Finn’s imagination, a young boy’s imagination has become a Mad Max dystopian wasteland. It mirrors the real-life tension between Finn and his younger sister, Bianca. The siblings have started to argue and fight over their shared Lego space.
Emmett struggles with his identity in this new world. He is still kind, cheerful and optimistic, but he begins to feel that this makes him weak. Enter Rex Dangervest, a rugged, hyper-masculine, time-travelling cool guy. Rex is everything Emmett is not: tough, cynical, emotionally closed off. And Emmett is drawn to him.
This dynamic is a striking metaphor for how many boys may look to extreme or performative versions of masculinity to guide them. This is because they’re lacking healthy male figures. Rex becomes a surrogate father figure, but he is ultimately a projection of Emmett’s own insecurities. He represents a bitter, hardened future a man shaped by abandonment, rejection and pain, who now believes that emotional openness is a liability.
As the film progresses, Emmett realises that Rex’s version of masculinity is dangerous. It’s built on pain and vengeance. And worst of all, it is a possible version of who he might become if he gives in to bitterness. In rejecting Rex at the film’s climax, Emmett is doing something profound: he’s choosing inner strength over emotional suppression.
Meanwhile, the real-world story of Finn and Bianca continues. Their conflict is being refereed by their mother, but their father is mostly absent. He doesn’t appear much, and his Lego avatar, Lord Business, isn’t part of the story anymore. Once again, we see a father figure fade into the background. This leaves the children are left to work out emotional conflict themselves. It’s a shame to see, after the progress made in the previous instalment. Finn’s father has still not fully stepped up to plate after so many years. But it is difficult to change old habits, and it’s easy as for a parent to step away again.
This speaks to a larger societal pattern: many fathers remain disengaged, leaving mothers to do the heavy emotional lifting, especially in teaching children how to manage feelings, navigate conflict, and form healthy bonds.
Conclusion: Lego Asks Fathers To Be Active Mentors To Sons
Across all four Lego movies, we see a clear and consistent message: boys need fathers who are present, supportive, emotionally engaged, and capable of modelling healthy masculinity. Each protagonist, Emmett, Lloyd, Batman, and even Finn, carries a different version of the “father wound,” and each one struggles with the consequences in their own way.
Whether it’s emotional neglect (The Lego Movie), abandonment (Ninjago), total orphanhood (Batman), or misguided masculinity (Lego Movie 2), the result is the same: boys left alone, trying to work out what it means to be a man with no clear guidance.
These stories aren’t just for kids. They’re for the adults watching with them, especially the fathers. The films don’t preach or lecture, but they do extend an invitation: be there for your sons. Don’t just financially provide for them. Don’t just discipline them. Know them. Listen to them. Play with them. Teach them how to move in the world. Give them guidance and mentorship when they face challenges.
And above all show them what being a man really looks like. Show them inner strength, the quiet confidence of knowing who they are without needing to broadcast how great they are. Show them how to fight (physically or figuratively) and stand up to danger. Show them how to be there for their family and friends. Show them how to be the hero of their own story.
The Lego Movie series isn’t just children’s entertainment. It’s one of the most insightful pop culture commentaries on modern masculinity, disguised under layers of bricks, lasers, and funny side characters. It’s telling fathers what many boys are too afraid to say out loud: Please notice me. Please be with me. Please teach me how to be a man.
Postscript – A note on the female characters
I kept this post focused on the male leads of each story, but it is important to acknowledge the female roles and their contrast against the male characters. I spoke in my Lego Movie Review about Lucy/Wyldstyle as a reflection of modern feminist women, and I would say that most of the prominent female characters in the series are similar. On average, the girls are consistently portrayed as stronger, more capable and more stable then the men: Lucy, Barbara Gordan, Lloyd’s mother, etc. We even see Finn’s sister making herself tougher and stronger in order to equalise herself with her brother. It is worth keeping in mind, how it is continuously the male characters struggling in this universe while the female characters are portrayed as the ones that are stronger. What do you think this says about our society?
Let me know if you want this expanded into a full post in the future as I think there is more to say on this matter.
Q: How do the Lego movies explore the theme of fatherhood?
A: Each Lego film uses central character dynamics to examine different experiences of fatherhood. For example, Finn and his father in The Lego Movie illustrate emotional neglect. Lloyd and Garmadon in Ninjago portray abandonment. Batman and Alfred in The Lego Batman Movie reflect unresolved grief and surrogate fathering. These relationships go beyond plot devices and depict the lasting impact of paternal absence and the longing for connection.
Q: What does the “father wound” look like in the Lego movies?
A: The “father wound” refers to the deep emotional scars left by an absent, unavailable, or abusive father figure. In these films, it’s visible in Lloyd’s shame and anger, Emmett’s confusion about his role in the world, and Batman’s fear of vulnerability. The characters often internalise this absence, leading to emotional shutdown or distorted self-worth.
Q: Can watching the Lego films actually help parents and families?
A: Yes. Many adults watching these films with their children may find themselves unexpectedly inspired. The emotional subtext can help parents understand what their children might be feeling but unable to express. These stories encourage dads to be emotionally present, to listen more, and to engage deeply with their kids beyond just setting rules or providing material things.
Q: I did not have a father or a good male role model, is there still hope in the Lego movies?
A: Absolutely. The Lego movies suggest that healing is possible even later in life. Batman, the most emotionally closed character, begins to change when he allows connection. Emmett rejects toxic examples of masculinity. Lloyd chooses a different path than his father. These arcs show that even without a guide, people can still grow, heal, and model something better for the next generation.
Q: Why use children’s movies to talk about something as serious as masculinity and fatherhood?
A: Because that is where the conversation quietly starts. These movies slip past defences, reaching audiences who might resist a direct discussion. Children’s media often reflects our cultural anxieties in disguised form. The Lego movies, through humour and creativity, invite viewers to reflect without shame or blame, making them a powerful tool for insight.
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