I’m going to give a little moral support to JPod (and–gulp!—against Kathryn, I think) by declaring that the movie Click also stinks. I took the kids to see it the other say. They liked it–but what do kids know?
Particular features of Click’s stinkiness:
—Treacle. Are we really this gloppily sentimental? Do we really slobber over our kids whimpering “I love you Timmy!” And get back a trembly “I love you Dad!” Not in this household we don’t. Certainly not fifteen times in the average hour, the way these characters do. If you love someone, *****show***** it. If you’re talking about it repetitively, at the frequency these people do, there’s probably something wrong.
—The Parenting Trap. Movies like this—there seem to be a lot of them—delivering, with all the subtlety of an artillery shell, the message that we spend too much time working and not enough time with our kids, must cause untold guilty anguish among the adult population. Get over it, guys. Adults work, kids play. And this movie, and all the others, was made and acted by a bunch of Hollywood big shots each of whom has a platoon of nannies raising his kids for him.
—Fast Forward. On “automatic pilot”? This is implausible even for a fantasy movie. Gimme a break. And he fast-forwards through **sex**? Oh, right, he’s married–never mind.
—Christopher Walken looks too much like Dudley Sutto, but isn’t half as good an actor.