If I was eight or nine years old and my parents wanted to take me to a matinee of The Croods I’d say to them, “Look, no offense, but do you think you guys could maybe not patronize me to taking me to movies like this? Not all kids are easy lays who go nuts over CG neverlands. The corporate animated family realm is a prison as real and as tangible as Devil’s Island. This film is Avatar plus The Flintstones plus Oz The Great and Powerful, okay? And I just don’t want this stuff in my head.
Really. Please. I’d really rather spend time reading and surfing around and maybe hanging with Beanie and Binky. You guys wanna get some brunch, cool. I’ll be fine right here.
I admit I myself wasn’t very sophisticated about film when I was eight or nine but I knew the difference between really good, pretty good, blah old-person stuff and shit.