🎭 The Mask 3 (2025) – A Madcap Revival of Cartoon Chaos and Emotional Catharsis
⭐ Rating: 7.6/10
A gleeful explosion of madness, mayhem, and mischief — where old-school slapstick meets a bold new generation of chaos.
The Return of an Iconic Madness
In an era where most reboots fall flat, The Mask 3 emerges as a zany, technicolor juggernaut, delivering a modern yet faithful extension of a beloved legend. More than two decades since Stanley Ipkiss first donned the mythical green mask, the 2025 installment brings a blend of nostalgia, contemporary flair, and surprising emotional resonance. The franchise finally rediscovers the bizarre lightning-in-a-bottle energy that made the original 1994 film a cultural phenomenon. It does so by doubling down on its absurdity, expanding its mythology, and injecting fresh characters without sacrificing its heart.
At its center is a simple yet timeless concept: a magical mask that grants its wearer godlike powers — and peels back their inhibitions to reveal the wildest parts of their psyche. But in this third outing, The Mask 3 smartly avoids recycling old gags. Instead, it updates its cartoon logic for a hyper-connected, visually overstimulated world. The result is a swirling fusion of anarchic animation, live-action lunacy, and a heartfelt narrative that feels both familiar and startlingly new.
A New Face Behind the Mask
This time, the mask doesn’t return to Stanley Ipkiss — at least, not immediately. Instead, we’re introduced to Miles Jensen, a directionless, socially anxious comic book artist played with charming vulnerability by Ben Schwartz. Living in a city already on the brink of absurdist collapse — where capitalism, corruption, and celebrity culture blend into a Looney Tunes-like fever dream — Miles stumbles upon the mask in the most unexpected of places: a trash bin outside his decrepit studio apartment.
His first transformation is a dizzying kaleidoscope of chaos. The moment he puts the mask on, Schwartz morphs into a rubber-limbed, big-mouthed mischief machine, delivering a pitch-perfect balance of 21st-century sarcasm and classic slapstick madness. While Jim Carrey’s Stanley was driven by suppressed desire and social insecurity, Miles is an avatar of millennial/Gen Z frustration — disillusioned by a digital world that rewards artificiality over authenticity. With the mask on, he becomes everything he’s ever feared and fantasized about: popular, powerful, and completely unhinged.
But he’s not alone. The film soon reveals that the mask has been splintering reality — manifesting alternate versions of itself and drawing attention from dark corners of the supernatural underworld. Enter a rogue’s gallery of eccentric antagonists, including a demonic nightclub mogul (played deliciously by Pedro Pascal), a shape-shifting bounty hunter from Norse legend, and a shadowy government agent with ties to the original mask experiments.

The Return of Legends
Jim Carrey’s return is no mere cameo. Reprising his role as Stanley Ipkiss — now living in exile as a paranoid recluse — Carrey injects the film with the kind of rubber-faced brilliance and manic gravitas that only he can deliver. His Stanley is older, wiser, and visibly haunted by his past — a man who once tasted absolute power and lived to regret it. His scenes with Miles form the emotional backbone of the film, as Stanley becomes an unlikely mentor, warning of the mask’s seduction while recognizing the potential for good in its chaos.
Cameron Diaz, reprising her role as Tina Carlyle, now a successful jazz club owner with secrets of her own, shares quiet, magnetic scenes with Carrey that speak volumes with just glances and subtle humor. Their chemistry, though more mature, still crackles — hinting at an offscreen life filled with heartbreak, healing, and the lingering sting of magic.
The intergenerational passing of the torch is both literal and emotional. The Mask 3 respects its roots while encouraging its younger cast to push boundaries, experiment, and find new dimensions within cartoon anarchy.
A Fresh Cast of Hysterical Chaos
Ben Schwartz is a revelation. His energetic, neurotic charm grounds the film even in its most ludicrous moments. Whether he’s bouncing off the walls of a courtroom as a green-faced parody of a TikTok influencer, or orchestrating an elaborate symphony of destruction in a corporate boardroom, his performance is fearless, inventive, and oddly touching.
Awkwafina, playing Miles’ estranged sister Gia, an overworked public defender and closet cartoon nerd, provides a brilliant foil. Where Miles is ruled by his impulsive imagination, Gia is all logic, restraint, and dry wit — until, of course, she too has her brush with the mask. Her brief stint as a masked chaos queen is one of the film’s comic high points — think Lucille Ball on Red Bull in a legal drama gone berserk.
Their sibling dynamic is core to the film’s emotional arc. Behind the bouncing eyeballs and absurd set-pieces is a surprisingly grounded exploration of identity, loss, and reconnection.

Visual Mayhem and Cartoon Brilliance
Visually, The Mask 3 is a feast — or perhaps more accurately, a food fight of absurd proportions. Directed by Fede Álvarez, best known for his horror films, the movie blends grotesque cartoon violence with high-octane action, creating sequences that feel like Chuck Jones directing Mad Max. Think a high-speed chase involving sentient balloons, villainous ducks in tuxedos, and a building that turns into a giant boombox.
The CGI is intentionally exaggerated, leaning into the Tex Avery style that defines the franchise. Faces stretch beyond anatomical limits. Physics is irrelevant. Sound design is a character in itself — a cacophony of honks, splats, clangs, and musical cues that dance between jazz, hip-hop, and big band swing.
At times, it’s overwhelming. But that’s the point. The Mask 3 isn’t trying to be “cool” or “gritty.” It’s an unapologetically loud cartoon with a beating heart and a surprisingly sharp brain.
Themes: Identity, Temptation, and the Nature of Power
Beyond the explosions of visual comedy lies a story that — while never taking itself too seriously — asks serious questions about who we become when we think no one’s watching. The mask doesn’t make people bad; it reveals what’s already there, amplified.
Miles’ arc becomes a parable for the age of virality: how quickly identity can be distorted, how tempting it is to trade authenticity for fame, and how thin the line is between self-expression and self-destruction. The film cleverly mirrors online culture — avatars, alter-egos, memes, and madness — using the mask as both metaphor and mayhem machine.
Stanley’s return, haunted and humble, serves as a reminder of the cost of unchecked power. In one of the film’s most poignant moments, he gazes at his old green mask — now cracked, glowing faintly — and murmurs, “It was never just a mask. It was a mirror.”

Standout Sequences
Among the most memorable sequences are:
- The Courtroom Catastrophe: Miles defends himself while transformed into a green-faced legal eagle, turning the courtroom into a musical, a wrestling ring, and finally a flamingo sanctuary — all in three minutes.
- The Club Showdown: A visual marvel of split-screen absurdity, featuring Miles and Gia dueling with dance moves, jazz saxophones, and inflatable hammers while a demonic DJ tries to hypnotize the audience.
- Stanley’s Nightmare: A surreal flashback sequence where Jim Carrey relives his mask days in black-and-white animation, blending noir, horror, and psychological drama in a style reminiscent of Who Framed Roger Rabbit meets Eraserhead.
Conclusion: Madness With Meaning
The Mask 3 doesn’t pretend to be subtle. It’s a loud, wild, hallucinogenic ride through the absurdity of modern life — and yet, it never loses sight of its human core. It’s a tribute to chaos, but also to the strange beauty of being seen, of being known, and of choosing kindness over chaos.
The film proves that legends can evolve. That madness can mature. That even in a world gone bonkers, there’s still room for heart.
Is it perfect? No. Some gags run long. The plot occasionally gets tangled in its own rules. But when it lands — and it often does — it lands with the force of an Acme anvil to the soul.
Final Verdict
7.6/10 – A riotous return to form.
The Mask 3 is zany, explosive, and nostalgic in all the right ways. Whether you’re a die-hard fan of the original or a newcomer to its cartoon universe, there’s something here to love — and laugh about — long after the credits roll.