Why are we making LITTLEFOOT

Every generation has that one film that defines what storytelling feels like. For many of us, that film was The Land Before Time. It wasn’t just about dinosaurs — it was about grief, courage, and finding hope after losing the people who made you feel safe. Somewhere along the way, stories like that started to fade. Studios got bigger, budgets got louder, and the quiet, emotional magic of films like The Land Before Time became rare. That’s where Littlefoot began not as a remake, but as a reminder.

We’re not trying to replace the original. We’re trying to carry its spirit forward. Littlefoot is our way of saying that imagination still matters. It’s a reimagining built with love, crafted by a team of independent filmmakers who grew up with the original and wanted to capture that same emotional spark the feeling of wonder, loss, and connection. This is a story made by people who still believe that film can make you feel something real — no matter the budget, studio, or scale.

When we started Littlefoot, there was no funding, no studio backing, and no roadmap. Just a shared belief that we could build something special with what we had. Piece by piece, people from all over the world joined the project artists, animators, composers, and voice actors all connected by one idea: that passion can still move the world. What began as a small indie tribute has now grown into a global moment, with coverage from over fifty outlets and millions of viewers watching a team with no major backing create something that feels truly cinematic.

In an era of reboots and endless sequels, Littlefoot stands for something different. It’s proof that independent filmmaking isn’t dead it’s evolving. With the right story, the right team, and the right heart behind it, you can still create something timeless without waiting for permission.

We’re making Littlefoot because stories like this deserve to exist. Because loss and love are universal. Because we all need to remember what it’s like to believe in something bigger than ourselves. This isn’t nostalgia. It’s legacy.