The best one features Hank, the cranky seven-legged octopus (or septopus, as Dory calls him). He’ll swim across the screen, notice a stray fish pellet floating by, and try—with hilarious futility—to grab it with a tentacle. But because he’s missing one, he fumbles. He looks directly at you (the viewer) with pure disgust, then sulks off-screen.
But the real star? The animations. Every time you let the menu idle for a few seconds, a short vignette plays. And these aren’t just random clips from the movie. They’re original, menu-exclusive animations.
Here, each chapter is represented by a floating, glowing seashell. As you scroll left or right, Dory herself swims over to the shell, taps it with her fin, and a short clip of that scene plays inside the shell’s shimmer. The sound design is perfect—each tap has a soft, musical plink like a marimba key.
Another gem shows baby Dory (from the film’s flashbacks) chasing her own reflection in a glass tunnel, completely oblivious that it’s just her. finding dory dvd menu
Here’s a fun, nostalgic-style blog post about the Finding Dory DVD menu. Remember when watching a movie started long before the opening credits rolled? It began the moment you popped the disc in, grabbed the remote, and heard the whirr of the DVD player. For kids of the late ‘90s and early 2000s, the DVD menu was a destination in itself—a tiny, interactive theme park.
It feels less like navigating a menu and more like exploring a tide pool. This is the detail that proves Pixar’s DVD team cared.
Soft blue light filters through the water. Bubbles drift lazily across the screen. In the background, you can hear the gentle hum of filters, the distant splash of otters playing, and—of course—the iconic, dreamy orchestral score from Thomas Newman. The best one features Hank, the cranky seven-legged
So next time you spot a dusty DVD case at a garage sale or in the back of a closet, grab it. Pop it in. Let the menu loop for a few minutes. Watch Hank the septopus get annoyed at a floating pellet. Listen to the bubbles.
But the Finding Dory DVD menu was a reminder that movies could be places —not just files. It turned the simple act of choosing a scene or turning on subtitles into playtime. It respected a kid’s curiosity and an adult’s nostalgia.
You might just remember that the magic of Pixar doesn’t start with “Once upon a time.” Sometimes, it starts with He looks directly at you (the viewer) with
These tiny moments turned waiting into watching. You’d find yourself not pressing “Play Movie” just to see what the background characters would do next. Let’s be honest: most scene selection menus are boring grids of thumbnails. Not Finding Dory .
If you highlight the “Languages” option and press Up, Up, Down, Down, Left, Right, Left, Right (yes, the Konami Code), a hidden animation triggers. Dory swims up to the screen and starts “speaking whale”—those deep, guttural tones like in Finding Nemo . She’s not calling for help, though. She’s just… ordering a snack. The subtitles read: “One kelp cookie, please. With extra krunch.”
In 2016, Pixar released Finding Dory , the long-awaited sequel to Finding Nemo . And while the film itself was a heartwarming hit, I’d argue that its deserves a second look in the hall of fame of great interactive experiences. Welcome to the Marine Life Institute (From Your Couch) The moment the disc loads, you’re underwater. Not in the open, terrifying ocean, but in the cheerful, slightly chaotic main hall of the Marine Life Institute (MLI). The menu isn’t just a static image with text. It’s alive .
It’s absurd. It’s unnecessary. It’s perfect. In the era of streaming, menus have become afterthoughts. Netflix auto-plays a trailer after five seconds. Disney+ drops you straight into the film with a “Skip Intro” button hovering like a productivity tool.