Richard’s Year of Movies — Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs

Netflix on Xbox Live is crack.  Really, someone should step in and do an intervention.  There’s stuff on there that I would never search out, but hey, what the hell, it’s there and I can add it by pushing a button.  Never know when I might want to watch Battlefield Earth again just for the hell of it.

Yesterday Hannah was in the mood to watch a movie.  Now I have to be pretty delicate with her when it comes to movies.  She doesn’t do violent or scary very well.  She won’t even watch Titanic because it’s too sad.  That’s right:  a woman who won’t watch Titanic.  And an Irish one to boot.  They’ll probably show up and dye her hair black any moment now.  She did somehow manage to get through Burton’s Sweeney Todd, but I guess death and dismemberment are OK as long as they’re being sung about.

Me, I don’t have that problem.  There are some things that I simply cannot watch; the arm-wrestling scene from Cronenberg’s The Fly left some pretty deep scars, for example.  I can watch Jeff Goldblum spit acid on a guy and get his head blown apart with a shotgun, but that bone sticking out of that guy’s arm is instant run-for-the-hills for me.

Well, no one dies horribly or suffers a compound fracture in Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, so that looked like a safe bet.

I liked it OK, but after having been spoiled recently with Up and How to Train Your Dragon, I’m a tough crowd for an animated film.  Meatballs certainly looks good, and it’s got some great visual and dialog touches, but do we really need another variation on “Misfits accept who they are while realizing that for which they get mocked can save the day”?  Sure, Dragons walked that same ground, but in a much more fresh and surprising way, and the seams never show.  You can see Meatballs stitching those seams together the whole way through.

Next time, I think we’ll watch Dawn of the Dead and see if it makes Hannah leave me.

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