All County, All the Time Since 2010 MAKE THIS YOUR PRINCE EDWARD COUNTY HOME...PAGE!  Friday, July 12th, 2024

Small furry woodland animals I have wanted to stab

It amazes me how some franchises last forever while others fade quicker than last year’s American Idol winner.
How is Barbie thriving and growing and what is it that compels them to keep making Chipmunk movies?
I remember being young. Once. Not really, but I’ve seen pictures of me and my feet.
It was a long time ago when records were blue and round. Seriously, the Chipmunks were a novelty act. They took semi-decent songs and played them a little faster and pretended to be some small furry woodland animals who had committed their lives to torturing some dude named Dave.
Dave rants and raves and pulls his hair out and suffers untold insult and injury at the hands of theses rodents, only to reconcile in the final frame in a love fest that makes Kangaroo Jack seem jaded. Man, I hated that movie.
This one seems cute.
It opened to 23 million which is a whole world of cute to Fox, but the audiences loved it.
See every previous column I’ve written about what part of the horse I am if I review a kids movie beyond: they laughed they left.
What do we really need from these pseudo-hibernators?
An introspective story arc. Some kind of epiphany at the end about how man and chipmunk can co-exist better or even some new tips for hunting acorns.
For the record, this is not Chip and Dale lest there be any confusion.
It’s like East Coast and West Coast rappers. They don’t co-mingle.
C and D are Disney with a lot of supporting characters.
Alvin and the boys are straight outta, well, ok the metaphor breaks down here, not that it was ever working.
They’re on a cruise ship that seems to be run by a graduate of the Fascist Youth No Fun Allowed Club with this ridiculous mascot who used to be their manager. They  fall overboard and end up on an island populated by a woman named Zoe who has been there 10 years and you’re not going to wash the crazy off anytime soon.
The Chipettes are there as well, underclad but fashionable and it’s all great fun until someone loses an eye but unfortunately no one does and so it sort of ends up just being good old-fashioned family fun.
They sing and I want to drive a fork into my throat and while I have to admit I wasn’t full on in terms of paying attention, it was cute.
Almost sweet.
They’re just so earnest.
Shoot me. Shoot me now.
What do you want? Seriously. Bring the kids, load ’em up on popcorn, pop and Skittles and then yell at them on the drive home to settle down. Sounds like a perfect family outing.
This will be my last column before Christmas so I just wanted to wish everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.  I don’t remember how many years I’ve been trotting out the same cliched tag lines and run on sentences with double capitols at the start of every new sentence but I do know I’ll keep doing it as long as you keep reading. Or pay me cash. Or turkey drumsticks. Mongo like drumstick.
Take care and be nice to each other. Special thanks to Melissa Ann Sue and Lynn who decipher this every week.
As always, other opinions are welcome, but wrong. That’s it for this week The cheque’s in the mail and I’m outta here.

Filed Under: Paul Peterson

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