Holy shit. I just laughed at Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked, and I’m pretty sure that disqualifies me from having an opinion on anything from this point forward. I probably have to close this blog now, strip naked, and wander off into the freezing rain and snow to die.
Movies have always been a product, designed to sell tickets, with studios not caring whether the end product was actually any good. Bad children’s films have always existed. It’s easy to look back at Disney’s run from 1938-1964 and picture a magical time when family entertainment didn’t suck. But of course, plenty of kids’ movies were trash. (Try a Shirley Temple movie. They’re all less appealing than those computer-animated Chipmunks.)
Truth is, most movies, books, songs, paintings, poems, or any other art forms you can mention are and have always been meant as shallow cash-grabs. This does not mean there is no pleasure to be found within. Cool as Ice has beautiful cinematography. Caligula has Peter O’Toole and John Gielgud. Crossroads has Britney Spears jumping around in her underwear. And Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked has a bungee-jumping rodent who falls on his head.
Damn. That still doesn’t sound funny. What the hell is wrong with me?