There’s something beautifully subversive about Pixar films, which eschew the Classic Disney formula of individual journeys where heterosexual relationships fill the void of a nuclear family marked by loss (usually of a mother – Disney mothers have a bizarrely high mortality rate).

Pixar, on the other hand, embrace communities of oddballs who band together for the communal good. Pixar’s worlds, from Toy Story, to A Bug’s Life, Monsters Inc, Inside Out and even the dismal Cars franchise, are about characters who don’t have exceptional powers, but who together can do anything. They’re stories of communities and kinships, of anti-capitalist systems, of democracies.

And then there’s Dory. Dory, the beloved blue tang from Finding Nemo who not only doesn’t have a traditional family, nor a love interest, but whose disability – her memory loss – allows her to perceive the world in a unique and gorgeous way. Ever-cheerful, without emotional baggage, preconceptions or prejudice, Dory is always excited about a world that reveals itself to her again and again. Lacking the context for analysis, she’s bold and brave, relying on intuition and innovation.

It’s these traits that Finding Dory focuses on, with a mantra that embraces the creativity and alternative forms of thinking demonstrated by the lead character. However, the film falls flat in the novelty stakes as again we see Dory roaming the ocean and sea-parks to find her parents. While Ellen Degeneres charms as the voice of Dory, along with her new friends, gruff octopus (Ed O’Neill – hilarious) and short-sighted whale (Kaitlin Olsen), the film never reaches the level of verbal or visual wit the original displayed. Despite this, Finding Dory’s unflinchingly complex and emotional look at disability and creative thinking still proves memorable.