Babble Reviews DVDs

Lisa Carver and Kids

SADIE (five years old): Bunnies are making lemonade and other bunnies are paying for it. Max tasted it and said, "Delicious!" But the girl bunnies won't let him have more unless he pays for it. Max is using a helicopter and a robot to try to get the lemonade. Then he tries to trade for it with his ants and acorns. Disgusting! They said he has to get a nickel instead. So he makes an ants and acorn pancake stand, but no one buys any, until Grandma, and she bought it just to be nice. Then Max bought the last glass of lemonade.
WOLF (twelve years old) : Now Ruby and Louise are having a rummage sale and Max keeps hiding his sister's toys under a table. Now he's hiding under the table, and the girls find him, and he has to give the toys up.
LISA (grown-up): Why doesn't he just play with his own toys?
WOLF: You know how little kids can get agitated by other people's stuff. Now Grandma comes and buys them and takes the toys home and invites Max over.
SADIE: In this one, Ruby and Louis are making a magic show and they told Max to be the audience. But he's hiding in the magic box. Now here comes Grandma.
LISA: This is the same story over and over, with different details.
SADIE: And Max says one word over and over in each one, like "delicious!" or "magic!"
LISA: This isn't too simplistic for you, Wolf?
WOLF: I don't feel worried when I watch it, because there's not so many questions or complications to it. Max doesn't get to eat or drink or do anything at the beginning — only at the very end. I feel like that in life. There's lots I can't do. Sadie is more happy with her toys and friends and I'm always thinking of something different I want to do other than what I'm doing. And I feel like sneaking around and being tricky and stuff, like Max.
SADIE: I'm like Ruby. Except I don't get mad or sad when Wolf's hiding frogs all over the house for hide and seek, tricking me.
? Lisa Carver, Wolf (twelve), Sadie (five)

In this mockumentary, a kid rock band starts down the road to stardom.

SADIE: Are you going to close your eyes when they're naked, Wolfgang?
LISA: The name is just a joke. No one's naked. Actually, this whole documentary may be a joke. You think those girls really camped out all night on the sidewalk to be first to buy those kids' new CD?
SADIE and WOLF: Noooo.
LISA: What if someone had kidnapped those girls off the sidewalk?! And do you believe these adults saying they learn everything from the kids?
SADIE: They're lying.
WOLF: They just want to make people happy. That's why they say those things.
LISA: Did they make you happy?
WOLF: Um . . . a little? Well, honestly, I'm bored. But I don't want those brothers to know that, after they worked so hard on this movie.
LISA: If someone makes a bad movie, they make a bad movie. Can't protect them from that.
SADIE: They made a bad movie.
LISA: Uma Thurman and Julianne Moore are pretending to be fans now! Do you guys know who they are?
SADIE and WOLF: No.
LISA: This is so self-indulgent.
WOLF: I'd like to be on stage like them someday, but I think I'd sing a better song.
LISA: What would you sing about?
WOLF: I'd sing what I dreamt about. Aliens and stuff.
SADIE: My dreams are about crazy seals. "Crazy seals! Crazy, crazy seals! Crazy seals . . . are . . . running!"
SADIE and WOLF: "Crazy seals! Crazy seals! Running all over the place!"
LISA: Quick, someone call Quentin Tarantino!
— Lisa Carver, Wolf (twelve), Sadie (five)

I had always remembered the melancholy tone of the 1973 Hanna-Barbera animated musical adaptation of Charlotte's Web, but in viewing the DVD recently with my two-year old daughter, I was blown away by its prescience.

"People are very gullible. They'll believe anything they see in print," says Charlotte (voiced by Debbie Reynolds), the small, gray barn spider with a knack for PR. The story's genius lies in its simplicity; it is about the power of words and loyalty, but also the illusion that fame is equivalent to immortality. I was initially concerned that the subject matter would be too heavy for a toddler; that themes of life and death unfolding so matter-of-factly would be overwhelming (sidebar: I know farm life is hard, but what's with all the angry farm broads?). But as I sit there weeping every damn time we watch it, my daughter, unburdened by these larger issues, is merely charmed by the bouncy Sherman Brothers songs, the retro-style animation, and by truly adorable Wilbur (whom she refers to as "OOU-AHH"). The world can be harsh, but also beautiful and warm, and someday, I hope my daughter does grasp Charlotte's Web's sad and stirring messages. I look forward to sharing the box of tissues. — Nancy Balbirer

LISA: This looks like a cowboys and Indians movie, except it's about the British and the Native Americans.
SADIE: Who are Native Americans?
LISA: They were naked except for, like, bikini bottoms made out of animal skin.
WOLF: I bet they were cold.
LISA: Then the British came and colonized them — meaning they killed them.
WOLF: Are we British?
LISA: No — because we killed them and became free men. Now we go colonize other countries . . . ones whose waterways we want to use, or their oil.
WOLF: Which ones are the nice Indians?
LISA: It's complicated. There's different tribes. The ones with braids are the Mohicans. They're helping the British, who are fighting the French. Then there's a renegade group of Native Americans who don't belong to any tribe — they're a small band of criminals, like a gang. They're the ones with the mohawks. The British have wigs.
SADIE: Which ones are the bad guys?
LISA: Depends on who you ask. In this movie, it's the Mohawks because they kidnapped some Brits. Oh my — the head Mohawk wants to make one of the British gals his squaw!
SADIE: Is that good?
LISA: Well, how would it feel if someone very different from you from another country kidnapped you and forced you to marry him?
WOLF: That sounds pretty cool. If I were kidnapped by a foreign lady, I bet all the different food would be good.
SADIE: Who's that man in the bushes?
LISA: A tortured messenger.
SADIE: I don't like this movie. Too much tying people up and knives.
LISA: That's history for you! See, I find war movies interesting because no one knows who is really on whose side or how anything is going to turn out.
WOLF: Maybe there were storms and they destroyed the food supplies, like a meteor with the dinosaurs, and that's how the Indians became extinct.
LISA: Or maybe men's hearts are black and they would pretend to be the Indians' friends and give them diseased blankets as "gifts."
WOLF: I wish they hadn't killed them all, and I could meet one.
LISA: They didn't get them all. Just killed a way of life. Okay, now the girls are safe in the fort and they're raising the British flag and everyone's happy. Do you think this movie would be different if the Native Americans had won and they were the current dominant culture?
SADIE: Yes, especially for us. We wouldn't be reviewing it. Since I'm a quarter English.

— Lisa Carver, Wolf (twelve), Sadie (five)

Fabulously Fit Moms

If a scarily perky fitness instructor cooing about how your workout is a time to "connect with your cuddly" sounds annoying, I've got news for you: it really, really is. Jennifer Nicole Lee's Fabulously Fit Moms DVD is a slow-moving march through some exercises you can do to get "the body of your dreams" while spending quality time with your baby. The movements themselves are actually fairly effective for building muscle strength and tone — mostly squats, lunges, and push ups — but the program is uninspired and plodding, and Lee's simpering tone gets grating about thirty seconds in. I was horrified to find she offers very little in the way of advice on proper exercise form, instead interjecting lots of advice for how to bond with your child: "make eye contact with your cuddly" and "snap your fingers to make it interesting for baby." Squats and lunges can wreck your body if you don't know what to do, especially if you are holding a nine-to-fifteen-pound infant, and I found myself muttering, "Screw the bonding with baby, what about mommy's knees?"

Bedrest Fitness

Bedrest Fitness, by contrast, has none of the irritating aerobics-Barbie vibe of FFM. Darline Turner-Lee designed her program for pregnant women on bedrest, offering sweet relief to moms-to-be trapped on the pillows for months on end. Turner-Lee has the calm delivery of a physician's assistant, which she is, as well as holding certification from the American College of Sports Medicine. The DVD is heavy on disclaimers and careful explanations, but after the first viewing you could just skip the talking and follow Turner-Lee through the series of movements, which use an elastic band to stretch and tone the whole body. Of course, the workout isn't exactly vigorous, but hey, this is bedrest, and the routine is perfectly designed to keep muscles from turning to jelly without endangering the pregnancy. I'll take the knowledgeable Darline Turner-Lee over the Stepford-ish Jennifer Nicole Lee any day. — Kelly Mills

If you, too, wish to turn your children into stark raving PETA members, Bambi and Black Beauty are the DVDs to show. (Though I'm not sure how much influence movies or mothers have anymore, after my own two basically fired me in this review.)

WOLF: The men are taking Black Beauty away. He doesn't want to leave his gentle meadow.
SADIE: He already has something tied around his nose — why hit him with the whip when he can't even move?
LISA: Some people enjoy inflicting pain on helpless things.
SADIE: They're bad to do that. Now some guys are trying to kill a bunny. One bunny and three men with guns, and fire comes out.
WOLF: It's not nice to kill an animal or treat them bullying.
LISA: Why do you suppose some people are like that?
WOLF: Probably because their moms taught them to be rude.
SADIE: Maybe some people treated them bad, and they felt bad, and now they treat horses bad.
LISA: Animals have no rights in our society.
SADIE: That's bad. Some people don't use their society for love. They use it to kill animals.
LISA: Would you guys say I brainwash you?
WOLF: Uh . . . kind of.
SADIE: What's brainwashing?
LISA: Do I impose my ideas of right and wrong on you instead of letting you make your own decisions — for example, about animal rights?
WOLF: Yes. You tell me about stuff. Sometimes people need to be doing their own work, figuring stuff out themselves. Next review, you can just say a couple things and Sadie and I will say the rest.
SADIE: I already make my decisions.
LISA: I can try to "tell you about stuff," but mostly you guys are just you, and it's luck of the draw what kind of kids a person ends up with. Being kind to helpless creatures is the most important quality to me, and you both totally have that. I might've gotten a horse-whipper! I got lucky with you two.
SADIE: Maybe I'm so kind because of my brother. I wouldn't be happy without Wolfgang. Even though we fight.

-- Lisa Carver, Wolf (twelve), Sadie (four)

I had a moment of panic when I saw the line-up on this DVD, which includes Cinderella, Hansel and Gretel and several other Grimm tales. Aren't these stories rather gory and misogynistic? I only hoped that my three young kids would see past the cannibalism, evil stepmothers, demanding wives and poor victimized children. Turns out I was needlessly worried; all the stories have happy endings, most of which involve wronged kids finding justice. And what kid doesn't enjoy that?

Like the other DVDs in this Scholastic series, Cinderella features artistically rendered cartoons accompanied by celebrity voices and pleasing classical music. It's not quite Disney, but that's okay: it's dramatically less lengthy and loud. More than anything else, my kids were captivated by the candy house occupied by the evil Kathy Bates-voiced witch in Hansel and Gretel.  ("Now do those kids get to eat all her candy?" Olivia asked when the witch bit the dust.) I was more intrigued by the final cartoon, a 1936 production of The Fisherman and his Wife. Do you know this one? The story is charming and chilling simultaneously. Sort of like Kabuki theater for the under-sixes.— Rachael Brownell

Lola is a believable, likable, bad little girl. Well, not bad. She simply has a lot of ideas and confidence, which are bigger than her abilities at this point ("I can do anything that's everything all on my own."). Her brother Charlie is a decent human being who is probably ten years old.

WOLF: Uh oh. Lola is NOT going to stay tidy for her school photo. Hehehehe.
LISA: Do you stay tidy for yours?
WOLF: Sadie's kind of like Lola. She's small as her. She kind of has a head like her. I bet Sadie has tiny head school photos too.
SADIE: No, I have BIG photos. Big!
WOLF: Tiny.
SADIE: Grrrrr.
LISA: Wolf, why are you being so awful?
WOLF: Hehehehe!
SADIE: He's a troublemaker like Lola and I'm so good like Charlie. I never lie.
LISA: I never trust those who never lie. I think siblings switch off who's the bad one, no? I never had a brother or sister, so I don't know what it feels like.
WOLF: It's nice!
LISA: Even when your sister is being the troublemaker?
WOLF: Yes, because what would happen if I didn't have that? I'd be bored. I bet you were bored growing up.
LISA: No, I was never bored because I didn't know what I was missing. I occupied myself. What are you guys doing?
SADIE: Making a surprise party for [Sadie's toy mouse and frog] Sophie and Dinah. Dino [Wolfgang's robotic dinosaur] thinks it's his party, too, but it's really not.
LISA: How are you going to solve this conflict?
WOLF: Well, there's more frogs than mice in this world. But Dino doesn't have any of his kind. He walks alone.
LISA AND SADIE: Oh.

I asked Wolf if he and Sadie's play that day was inspired by Charlie and Lola . Being somewhat autistic, Wolf answered specifically: yes, because Dino doesn't really walk anymore (his batteries died) and Charlie's elephant doesn't walk (because it's papier maché). Maybe "inspired" wasn't the right word. Unlike the generic and insipid Maya and Miguel or Max and Emmie, who take on characteristics only once per episode, according to what lesson our kids need to be taught that day (self-esteem or cooperation), Lola is just plain stubborn and Charlie is long-suffering, and their attributes do not get "solved." They don't have to model behavior. They appear to be just living, which is scarce enough among adult dramas — but among new kids programming, I thought it was extinct.

— Lisa Carver, Wolf (twelve), Sadie (four)

JOSEPHINE (five years old): Mama, is that penguin actually singing?
OLIVIA (five years old): Are those real penguins or from someone's 'magination?
MOM (late thirties): Yes, Joey the penguin is singing. Yes. Livvie, this is a movie from someone's imagination.

Happy Feet is a classic tale of the loner outcast (the dancing versus the normal singing penguin), cutened up by funny melodies and animated characters like baby penguin Mumbles (quite popular with the under-sixes). When asked what they liked best about the movie, the twins sang out "the pretty music!" and "the dancing!" And that pretty much sums it up. Happy Feet is long and loud and Nicole Kidman's reedy voice might put you in a home, but it's a fun musical adventure that will have your kids bouncing in their seats.

MOM: And you don't think this movie is scary?
OLIVIA: No. Because I like how Mumbles dances.
VIOLET (two years old): I see the ducky [translation: penguin] right there. He's funny ducky, mama . . . I see him right there. Right there, mama!
MOM: Do you girls like Mumbles?
JOSEPHINE: Yes, he look-ded cute when he saw his mama.

Sure, the "find your voice" message is predictable, but it's still charming. And how can anyone resist a movie in which Stevie Wonder's voice serenades us with the fabulous lyrics from "I Wish" (I wish those days could come back once more . . . )? — Rachael Brownell and daughters

"I thought it was from God," says Damian, a Scottish schoolboy who's discovered a mysterious bag of cash. "Who else would have that kind of money?" This kind of inarguable child's logic is the cornerstone of Millions, a gorgeous family film from Danny Boyle, the director of such inappropriate-for-children fare as Trainspotting and 28 Days Later. Damian, cheerfully obsessed with Catholic martyrs, is convinced that God has sent him the money so that he can give it to the poor. (His first act is to take the town's homeless population to Pizza Hut.) His older brother, Anthony, is a budding capitalist who wants to invest it in real estate. To complicate matters, the money is in pounds, and the UK is switching over to Euros in one week — which means their find will be worthless unless they act fast. Soon the brothers are in over their heads, and the bag of money has became an apt metaphor for how complicated and contradictory the adult world can be. The film's hodgepodge of styles — Gondry-esque surrealism, broad satire, religious drama — would be disastrous in the hands of most directors, but it serves Boyle's childs-eye view perfectly. The film's occasional scary moments and sophisticated themes (i.e. death of a parent) may be too much for small children, but encourage the rest of your family to muddle through the Scottish accents. They'll never see another movie like this one. — Gwynne Watkins

Wolf didn't have much to say about this movie because "unicorns are too girly. I would know more to say if the star was a frog." Sadie didn't have so much to say because I hogged the review, moved as I was by the themes of loneliness in a crowd, loneliness in actual aloneness, cranky and insecure misfits banding together with a common dream, and persevering in the face of fear and confusion. It's just like real life, only with illustrative songs and technicolor.

SADIE: She can't find any unicorns. She's the only one. She looked through summer and through fall and through winter and now it came spring again and she's still looking.
WOLF: A witch trapped the unicorn and a bunch of other animals. She put a spell on them to make them bad then good then bad then good.
SADIE: A magician turned a tree alive and then he turned it into a chair and the chair hugged him with its bum. Then the magician turned the unicorn into a human. Now she's trapped in the castle and she had nightmares and she asked the prince, "Take away my nightmares." But he can't, right? Because he wasn't turned from a unicorn into a prince.
LISA: Hm. I think the nightmares are to remind her of what she used to be. She's forgetting. She's falling in love.
SADIE: I think she's happy being what she is now — a woman. But I saw her dreaming about when she was a unicorn.
LISA: Oh! Turns out the prince isn't a prince. He was a peasant baby that the king scooped up because he didn't have a son and he wanted one. Just like he kidnapped all the unicorns and trapped them in the foam of the ocean waves. This has the elements of all great fairy tales: there's a search, and nothing and is what it seems. It's a journey inward to discover your real self, or what you're becoming, and a journey outward to discover some lost thing; maybe what you used to be.
SADIE: The two heros were the magician and the prince.
LISA: The unicorn is a hero too.
SADIE: Why?
LISA: Because she was scared to go on her quest, but she did anyway, and when the time came, she sacrificed herself for the greater good. Though she was only briefly turned mortal, she felt love, and now she will feel regret for the rest of her life. None of the other unicorns will understand her.
SADIE: Unicorns only love other unicorns, not princes?
LISA: Unicorns don't feel love exactly for anyone. They're just pure. They're righteous and fair and unsorry. They don't have complex, mixed-up emotions like humans. Would you rather be a unicorn or a human?
SADIE: It's a complicated choice. I want to feel love but not pain.
LISA: Can't have one without the other.
SADIE: Why?
LISA: Because when someone we love is hurt or disappears or is mean to us, we feel pain. Our greatest joy sows the seeds of our deepest sorrow. And vice versa. What makes you feel pain, Sadie?
SADIE: Splinters.

— Lisa Carver, Wolf (twelve), Sadie (four)

SADIE: Guess what, Wolfgang, there is one boy in there!
LISA: Poor guy. One boy with all those girls in Strawberry Shortcake Land.
WOLF: I think he's probably used to it by now.
SADIE: They eat the mountains, right?
LISA: I would guess so. And the lollipop trees. I'm sorry, I can't take this video. I'm going to go beat my head against the wall in the other room and then come back and you tell me what I missed. . . What did I miss?
SADIE: The doggie Cupcake did mischief. He pushed the juice machine button and all the juice spread all over and it was a big mess!
LISA: Did the doggie get in trouble?
SADIE: No. All the friends went in the factory and cleaned it up with cookie mops.
LISA: I have a visceral reaction to the things I've seen and heard of Strawberry Shortcake over the last twenty minutes. I need to go somewhere deep inside my mind and hide.
WOLF: You mean it's "ew?"
LISA: I mean sickly sickening sweet pastel sugar doughnuts mountain vomit!
WOLF: Well, it does have purple, yellow, white — all kinds of colors. And it does have all kinds of girls in it, with red hair, brown, blonde, black. But girls like that — watching a bunch of girls. Boy movies are more about adventures. Girl movies are more about girls.
SADIE: In this movie, it's hard for Ginger Snap to plow grain to make her cookies because spring hasn't come. So they're making spring come by imagining it and singing about it.
LISA: Is there some difficulty in this plot, an obstacle?
SADIE: No.
LISA: If this were a boy movie, Wolf, do you think there would be a difficulty?
WOLF: Yes — that Sadie wouldn't like it. We might argue. That would be a difficulty.

-- Lisa Carver, Wolf (twelve), Sadie (four)

I was interested to learn what a platinum edition of Disney's Peter Pan would mean for Neverland's resident Indian tribe. Racially-based comic relief ain't the guaranteed crowd pleaser it was back when Pochohantas would have been hard-pressed to book a Mazola ad. Rather than merely restoring the original print, perhaps the wizards in the CGI department would update the two-dimensional braves with nobility and wisdom. How hard could it be to cut "What Makes the Red Man Red?" Pretty hard, as it turns out, when taking the high road would have meant shelving the Platinum Edition entirely.

I can't blame the kids for busting a gut over the Injun gags. Fast-paced slapstick numbers are difficult to resist (take, for instance, the scene in Tarzan where the monkeys inadvertently invent hot jazz while destroying the professor's campsite — hilarious). But I'm appalled that the disc of bonus material, which has everything from "virtual flights" to footage of Uncle Walt waxing nostalgic, contains no featurette explaining the twenty-first century economics of granting racist caricatures a G-rated green light. — Ayun Halliday

SADIE: It's just singing and pictures! It's boring.
LISA: Well I guess that's appropriate, because he's singing about how boring it is to live on the sun.
WOLF: And this one is about an eel trying to have fun in the bath, but he's making his friend sad because he keeps splashing.
SADIE: I definitely do not like this one.
WOLF: I think this is pretty good.
LISA: You think everything is pretty good, though. What would it take to make you dislike something?
WOLF: I don't know because I've never done that.
SADIE: I dislike something!
LISA: Wolf is the Paula Abdul to your Simon Cowell.
WOLF: That bee is cute. I want a beehive.
SADIE: I want a lavender fly for a pet.
LISA: Wolf, do you know what marijuana is?
WOLF: No.
LISA: It's something that makes you sit around feeling mellow and makes you think things are funny that probably aren't. I get the feeling the people who made these movies probably smoked some. What's happening now, Sadie? Still boring?
SADIE: Yes!
LISA: Are you ever going to smoke marijuana?
SADIE: No!
LISA: Me neither. Except then I might never write a song as sweet as that first one. Can you go back to that first one so I can write down the lyrics?

Weeks go different on the sun.
Nighttime is no fun
When you don't know when it's come.
No winter on the sun.
You watch the clouds rise up
Into oblivion.
Did I say
I am from the sun?
So when my days are done
I'll be buried in the sun,
Travel through its veins
Where I'll circulate.
Through a sunspot I'll escape.
You'll watch my soul rise up
Into oblivion.

— Lisa Carver, Wolf (twelve), Sadie (four)

There's the seed of a wonderful children's film in Zoom: Academy for Superheroes. Alas, that seed is confined to the opening credits, when great quantities of exposition are relayed via efficient voice-over while the camera pans across the anguished facial expressions and bulging, radioactive muscles of old-fashioned comic book panels. The seventy-five or so minutes that follow this inspired beginning are of such excremental quality, it's hard to lay blame at the feet of any one super-villain — though I'm tempted to go with the casting director, who surely lobotomized poor Chevy Chase before placing him in a thankless supporting role. Charmless child actors, a grade-Z script, a giant, hyper-realistic snot bubble that bursts in sickening detail. . . and of course, my kids adored it, speaking reverently of the characters and their (paper-thin) motivations, and offering to make it worth my while if I'd let them watch it the following night. — Ayun Halliday

Magic Al is a former investment banker from Long Island turned magician/comedian with a penchant for pratfalls.

SADIE: Magic Al had a hand-thing and it went psht! in his stomach.
WOLF: It bonked him.
LISA: Why is it funny when someone gets hurt?
WOLF: He didn't really get hurt.
SADIE: He was just pretending.
LISA: Why is it funny for a man to pretend to get hurt?
WOLF: It's magic.
SADIE: He says he's the luckiest guy in the world.
WOLF: I can tell he's lucky.
SADIE: It's because he can do all those tricks and jokes. He's a funny kind of man.
WOLF: When he gets up in the morning, he's probably cranky like Mom, and then he does a little magic.
SADIE: He does magic tricks to make himself nice.
LISA: I've heard that in real life, clowns are the saddest people on earth. I guess because they save up their joy for the audience. So happiness becomes a commodity.

The kids leave me to my ruminations — I'm thinking about how Jim Carrey once said he spends three to five hours a day practicing faces in the bathroom mirror; I'm thinking no wonder those other women left him, and how moribund must that man be for the second half of the day? — and, under the tutelage of Magic Al, perform magic tricks for each other. Wolf masters a pretty good illusion employing a puffball and a pencil.

LISA: Now how is illusion different from lying?
SADIE: Because you just do a trick very quickly - pretending the pencil is just flying through the puff, but a lie takes a long time.
WOLF: I don't think so. Lies go away very quickly. Because you get caught and get sent to time-out and you're out after five minutes.
SADIE: Plus Magic Al likes to make kids laugh. Lies make people cry.
LISA: So magic is a loving lie?

Sadie laughs nervously. She is disturbed by this line of thought.
— Lisa Carver, Wolf (twelve), Sadie (four)

Even the most blasé Gen X-er will grow misty-eyed when recalling Free To Be...You And Me, Marlo Thomas' cult-classic 1974 children's album television special. Just thinking about defensive lineman (and needlepoint enthusiast!) Rosey Grier's no-nonsense vocals on "It's Alright To Cry" makes me cry. Shot on location in New York City, Free 's patchwork of songs, stories, poems, sketches and animation perfectly captures the ethos of its decade. So, nostalgia aside — how does it hold up after 30 years?  From the opening number, my husband and I were grinning wistfully (and sometimes rolling our eyes), while our toddler was enthralled. She particularly adores "William's Doll"-- a musical cartoon about a boy who desperately wants a doll -- and the funk R&B tune "Sisters And Brothers," featuring The Voices of East Harlem gleefully dancing in Central Park. There are some clunkers: the feminist princess story "Atalanta" means well but feels very Maude in its heavy-handedness; "Circle of Friends," featuring Marlo and a groovy group of "friends" (including Kris Kristofferson) singing and swaying by a cozy, soft-porn fire, is too hilarious to take seriously. There's also the sad and painfully ironic duet by Roberta Flack and Michael Jackson (with his original face): "When we grow up...we don't have to change at all...." Nevertheless, Free still has plenty of entertainment value, and a message that's worth passing on to a new generation. — Nancy Balbirer

Suddenly, the kids' dad and I are the ones wheedling for just one more episode, even though it's already 5 minutes past bedtime. The second season of Aardman Animation's Creature Comforts is one of those rare entertainments that the whole family can enjoy — as in rip-snorting, rewinding, really enjoy — as opposed to humoring the other side with the occasional pallid chuckle.

As in Season One, a diverse selection of the UK-residing interviewees are transformed (via a laborious stop-motion process documented in the bonus features) into a host of inspired animal characters, including a pair of elderly, royalist bats; a twittering plateful of mussels; and an emphatic mouse whose thick Newcastle accent is beyond comprehension. They're all so wonderful, it's difficult to claim a favorite — though we try, subjecting guests to extensive re-enactments of the sort that have given Monty Python fans a bad name. Thus far, nine-year-old Inky is the winner, turning in an affable male Sharpei that's so dead-on, her brother has to stand on his head shouting fart jokes to reassert his status as the family's class clown. — Ayun Halliday

Too much "smart" children's programming seems kind of dopey, like those ubiquitous Baby Einstein videos (hey, look, the cat likes it!). HBO's Peabody Award-winning animated series Classical Baby is an ingenious take on the genre. Divided into 3 30-minute DVDs, this stimulating yet soothing wind-down collection provides an ingeniously layered introduction to masterpieces of music, art and dance. Each DVD begins with "Classical Baby," the spiky-haired, diaper-clad toddler, conducting an all-animal orchestra. Short musical pieces (selections include Bach, Debussy and Ellington) are set to wonderfully evocative animation. My toddler has been captivated by this series since she was 18 months old. Her favorites include "The Cow Song," in which a cow sings a Puccini Aria (The Music Show); Mary Cassatt paintings set to Schubert's "Trio In B Flat" (The Art Show) and an animated rendering of Balanchine's "Waltz of the Flowers" (The Dance Show). For grown-ups too, Classical Baby's whimsical presentation of iconic images (who knew there were families of Boll weevils living inside Van Gogh's Starry Night?) reawakens the awe of discovery. — Nancy Balbirer

Eloise, six years old, lives in the Plaza Hotel on 5th Avenue in New York City. Her mother, an actress, sends for Eloise and Nanny to join her in Hollywood by train. Eloise, discovered by chance, lands the starring role in a big movie, but finds that the life of an actress is not what she expected.

LISA: So, what did you guys get out of that movie?
WOLF: Hollywood actors — they can be anything. A monster or an alien or a giant ape. You have to practice.
SADIE: It's hard for them, so they pretend to hurt their ankle so they can get away from the life. It was hard for Eloise. It would be fun for me.
LISA: Would you guys rather be a child actor in Hollywood or an heir living it up in New York City ?
SADIE: I'd rather live in Hollywood. It's pretty there. Prettier than any twilight. The convertibles, the palm trees.
WOLF: Palm trees can have coconuts, dates, bananas or figs. I prefer New York. It has hotels, big buildings, robbers.
LISA: Robbers?!
WOLF: Yeah — I could make booby traps for them.
SADIE: Wolfgang said "booby"!
LISA: Do you guys see any similarities between those little kids working on a studio lot and you little kids working at home reviewing?
WOLF: It's both a lot of talking.
LISA: Yeah, but you guys are expressing your own ideas. Actors have to express someone else's ideas. And nobody does you guys' hair and makeup.
SADIE: I would like it if someone did. I would like hair and makeup before my next review. And turn my hair pink.
WOLF: I'm dressing up as half-human, half-ape before our next review.
LISA: Yeah — you guys should put the glamour back in reviewing. Like Hedda Hopper and Louella Parsons.
— Lisa Carver, Wolf (twelve), Sadie (four)

I've always been a huge fan of the Broadway musical Annie, so I was disappointed by director John Huston's artless, self-conscious and frequently boring 1982 film version. Carol Burnett as horny Miss Hannigan is wildly over-the-top, Albert Finney (Daddy Warbucks) seems disoriented, and Aileen Quinn (Annie) smiles so hard, my face hurts. Even Sandy (the dog) is miscast; with his '80s poofy coif, he looks more Brentwood than Bowery. And yet my twenty-three-month-old daughter is obsessed with it. After only one rapt viewing, she was saying incessantly "I wha Ah-nee!" from the moment she woke up. What is it about this hot mess of a movie that enchants her so? Apparently my daughter can see beyond all the superfluous plot points, leaden performances, and winking Hollywood paeans. To her, it's just a fun story about little girls and a dog and a nice big house, with lots of music and dancing and fireworks and happy endings. And you know, maybe that's enough to make me "wha Ah-nee," too. Best DVD feature: "Act Along With Annie," in which the adult Aileen Quinn offers decent acting pointers for playing Annie in three scenes. Worst feature: the disturbingly sexy, faux-hip-hop rendition of "It's A Hard Knock Life" performed by a no-name "pop group." — Nancy Balbirer

OLD-MAN-VOICED TRAIN: "I especially like the company of children."
LISA: That’s a little creepy!
SADIE: That is NOT creepy.
WOLF: It’s creepy that the trains have faces.
SADIE: It doesn’t creep me out.
LISA: Would you guys say that, in life in general, Sadie is not very creeped out and Wolf is?
WOLF: I don’t think it’s really general in life that a train has a face.
LISA: Actually, Wolf’s right. Their eyes move when they talk, but their lips don’t. This is horrifying!
SADIE: It’s not horrifying to ME.
LISA: Yeah, well, your favorite movie is The Butterfly Ball [a live show from the 70s with interpretive dance, arena rock, smoke machines, and people dressed up like moles and dogs].

— Lisa Carver, Wolf (twelve), Sadie (four)

The first story is "a bunch of worms that talk, slither, and eat," the second is "silly little mice with silly little accents," but then there’s this: Frog Goes to Dinner.

WOLF: Okay. A boy in a suit puts his bullfrog in his pocket and is having dinner in a fancy restaurant and the frog jumps out of his pocket all over the place. He just jumped inside a trumpet.
SADIE: Uh-oh. He just got blown out of the trumpet into the lobster barrel. Now the frog got in the people’s salad.
WOLF: Noooo! Hahahahahahahahahaha! Hahahahaha!
SADIE: Hahahahahahahaha!
LISA: Hahaha, ah, oh my god! Okay, it landed on the guy’s toupee. Now the toupee got thrown off into the lady’s soup.
EVERYONE: Ahahahaha! Oh! Oh!

— Lisa Carver, Wolf (twelve), Sadie (four)

Until I watched Disc 4 of the Chronicles of Narnia box set, I'd assumed that the hundreds of behind-the-scenes hours devoted to the sheen, transparency, and reflective qualities of Finding Nemo's anonymous jellyfish represented the pinnacle of labor-intensive filmmaking for young audiences. The crowning gem of a great trove of goodies justifying this set's $42.99 price tag is Visualizing The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, a making-of doc in which everyone from the costume designer to the Voice of Mr. Beaver describes the flaming hoops through which they jumped in the quest to get it right. Some of this — superimposing fawn legs on human actors, recreating computer-generated ice floes piece for piece on a sound stage — is impressively high-tech, guaranteed to render non-industry mortals like us agog. Even more remarkable, for my money, is the child cast's ability to sell what wasn't there, not to mention the crouching stagehand who spent whole days waving an expressionless stuffed beaver around to ensure that those young eyes would stay properly focused. And while boxed sets are all about the bonuses, it should be noted that the extreme care we see being taken in the documentary resulted in a wonderfully old-fashioned, snark-free family film. — Ayun Halliday

SADIE: She laughs crazy.
WOLF: It's kind of scary.
LISA: And there's Courtney Love. Do you think she's crazy too?
WOLF AND SADIE: Yes.
LISA: Do you think these movies are appropriate for kids?
WOLF: No. Because Darcy has a bra on.
LISA: That's a gown! A debutante gown. When did you get so conservative?
WOLF: She's kind of like a little girl, like Greta and Sadie.
SADIE: She has a little devil and a little angel.
LISA: She's got that Catholic dichotomy going on. And there's her doppelganger, up in the tree!
SADIE: Is that her cousin?
LISA: Yes. Her evil cousin. Now here's Darcy inside a dollhouse, getting a vaccine, like you guys do.
SADIE: That piece of lettuce talked! That's funny!
WOLF: It's scary.
LISA: Parts of childhood are scary. Don't you think?
SADIE: Maybe the vaccine made her mean. Is she in jail?
LISA: That might be symbolic for being confused or feeling small. Here comes the devil band.
SADIE: That devil band is going to be in so much trouble!
WOLF: I think they're nice devils, because they helped Darcy escape.
LISA: Music often does that. In this movie, Darcy's reflection in the pond gave her a present.
SADIE: A magic letter, for her tears to make dresses and umbrellas.
LISA: Can you think of what that may be symbolic of?
SADIE: No! This is not like my real life at all!
LISA: You might have a steadier life than some children. When I was growing up, it felt like this.
SADIE: In this one, three demon mermaids are going on the sailor's ship.
LISA: Exactly! Here Darcy is being interviewed on Japanese TV. She says: "To me, reality is just a place to make fantasy happen."

Next, Darcy did some crazy interior decorating, with the theme of Alice In Wonderland as The Last Supper. Inspired, Wolf asked if he and Sadie could put ribbons and decorations up. I said okay. They made an impenetrable maze out of my house; I tripped and fell on my face making dinner. But I left it up. Totally impractical, illogical, ridiculous and sublime. When we whitewash out the dark, impenetrable, scary parts of childhood, we also erase the beauty. — Lisa Carver, Wolf (twelve), Sadie (four)

The Animaniacs are for those parents who might go bonkers listening to another dippy clean-up song. This wacky Steven Spielberg show references Goodfellas, parodies Sondheim, and lavishes in such slapstick non-sequiturs as sung in the opening intro: "We're zany to the max / There's baloney in our slacks." The show's second DVD collection, released on December 25, follows the continuing misadventures of Yakko, Wakko, and Dot Warner, three cartoon characters so off-the-wall that Warner Bros. wants to lock them away in a water tower. But in this world — like yours — madness rules. — Sarah Hepola

A dozen Gap-clad kids, a nice lady, and an animated monkey lead kids at home in fun dance and exercise.

SADIE: [pedaling furiously in the air] Look at, I'm riding to the park.
WOLF: [groans extensively as he "peddles to the top of the hill"; yelps in terror as he "pedals down the hill."] This is like our yoga class.
LISA: Except it's a lot less expensive.
SADIE: I'm inside the chrysalis!
LISA: Wolf, are you a butterfly too?
SADIE: He's a moth. I'm a butterfly. All boys are moths.
WOLF: [resigned] I'm a moth.
LISA: I am so in love with this DVD. What a great way to keep your cheeks pink in the winter. I think it's going to change your lives. Of course, I thought that about Jane Fonda for me in the '80s.

There are lots of cute partner activities too. If you're lazy like me and you have an only child, invite a little friend over. Better yet, have another kid. Once past the first, difficult year, they'll entertain each other and you'll never have to move again!

—Lisa Carver, Wolf (twelve), Sadie (four)

Two gray-haired men singing, one short, one tall.

WOLF: I fall asleep at this.
SADIE: I stick my foot at it.
LISA: The crowd likes it. They're all clapping. Yet they must know how stultifying this is — they're right there! How do you explain group mentality? At your school, when one person starts running, does everyone else run?
SADIE: If Colin's there. Because Colin's always The Bad Guy.

—Lisa Carver, Wolf (twelve), Sadie (four)

I was quite excited at Diamond Entertainment's re-issue of 1959's The Giant Gila Monster and The Killer Shrews (both directed by Ray Kellogg). Remember when horror movies consisted of filming some people in front of some woods, then filming an iguana in front of some twigs that are dressed up to look like trees? These crude villains of yesteryear appeal to kids in a way our more stylishly realistic ones never will: Gila and Shrew were not evil; they were simply too big. Just as children are too little for the world they find themselves needing to navigate. As we do every week, Sadie (four), Wolf (twelve) and I sat down to watch it — Lisa Carver

The Giant Gila Monster
LISA: This is set out west, where it's "bleak and desolate, where no human ever goes and no light is ever seen." But there's a couple of teenagers, neckin'. Oh no, what happened?
SADIE: The gila monster happened.
WOLF: It's a little bit upsetting that there's no color.
LISA: It's an art form. Shadows are beautiful.
SADIE: But I don't know what colors the cars are.
WOLF: Well, they're still talking fine in black and white!
LISA: And talking and talking. Life moved slower in the '50s. Less happened. There was more time to talk about it.
WOLF: I still like this better than modern movies. It has gila monsters, cool cars.
LISA: There was a bigger division between teenagers and old people back then. This movie has kids in packs in the soda shop, and in the garage working with grease — acts of rebellion, forbidden love, their own language, like "Thanks, Dad, you're a cotton-pickin' friend!"
WOLF: The bad guy's not evil, like The Unknown. He's just hungry.
SADIE: I'm sad for Gila Monster. They're all hunting him down. Poor Gila Monster.
WOLF: Everybody's got to eat.

The Killer Shrews
SADIE: I don't like this one so far. It's just so much talking and there's a boat and it's both boys. I would rather have two girls in movies. It bothers me that it's so dark. Where's the shrew?
WOLF: I like it because it's two boys and a boat.
SADIE: I'm glad, actually, because the boys are gonna get eaten, then there will be less boys.
LISA: Do you guys understand the scientists? They say if humans were half our size, we'd live twice as long, because of the metabolism.
WOLF: That's nice.
LISA: But something went terribly wrong with the experiment on the shrews of this island. Oh no — the black guy is alone outside.
SADIE: I hear that haunting music.
LISA: Oh no. [The shrews ate the black guy.] Uh oh — a Mexican guy and a white guy going down in a cellar.
[The shrew eats the Mexican guy and the white guy shoots the shrew.]
SADIE: Poor shrew.
LISA: Poor Mexican. Who do you think is gonna get it next?
SADIE: The drunk guy. Cause he's drunk.
LISA: I think you're right. Horror films were as racist and moralistic yesterday as they are today. Nope. The boring guy got it. The End! What did you guys think?
SADIE: More, Mommy-o!

The precocious older sibling to Sesame Street, The Electric Company was education with a wink. Its sly, punning style became a blueprint for future kids' entertainment and keeps the show entertaining for those of us who already know how to spell (judging by the internet, a vast minority). A multiculti cast including Morgan Freeman and Rita Moreno (and Bill Cosby in the first season) offers wisdom for the ages: Be nice to everyone, and sometimes the "e" is silent. "The Six Dollar and 39-Cent Man," a parody of the Six Million Dollar Man, still cracks me up. And as far as '70s TV catchphrases go, "Hey you guuuuys!" is up there with "Dy-no-miiite." — Sarah Hepola

I have spent three days, six hours, three half-Xanaxes, and $200 in lawyer's fees to "get" the kids for Christmas morning this year. This was very irritating to me, and I yelled at my children. They yelled at each other, and one of them cried. Then, grumbling, we watched this very simply plotted, simply illustrated movie (because we had to — it's our job) and all three of us suddenly remembered that it's not at all about getting what you want. It's about being thrilled at what is. And I am. We are. Thanks. — Lisa Carver, Wolf (twelve), Sadie (four)

SADIE & WOLF: [chattering]
LISA: Shhh! This is my favorite movie! Aw, Snoopy loves to steal Linus's blanket. Wolf, quit laughing, I can't hear. Snoopy's so groovy.
SADIE: He's always up to something, isn't he?
LISA: No one's listening to Charlie Brown. How's he supposed to be the director of the Christmas play?
SADIE: Uh oh! Santa's going to give Lucy a lump of coal.
LISA: That's just a myth. Santa loves all children, even when they're rotten. He doesn't care. The difference is, Lucy is never satisfied with what she gets. She wants real estate.
SADIE: Why is even Snoopy laughing at Charlie Brown?
LISA: I guess he's not the dog I thought he was.
WOLF: Everyone said Charlie Brown's tree was puny and tipping over. I think the tree was pretty good. Even though it's different, it's still beautiful. Then all the kids went out and saw the star, even Snoopy, and then they knew the tree was beautiful. Maybe it was a Jesus star.
LISA: For reals! It's His birthday!
WOLF: You know what we should do this Christmas? Make a cake that He likes, but we eat it.

These days, kids films are rarely, like Trix, just for kids. They're pitched to adults (who buy DVDs and movie tickets) and saddled with all kinds of dreary mature baggage: fraught moralistic storylines, smugly perfect parents, and irritating adult in-jokes. For me, the trend jumped the shark in Chicken Little, a film for three-year-olds that rattled off dumb gay jokes at the expense of a disco-loving pig who sang "I Will Survive" and bragged about his Barbra Streisand record collection. It wasn't just the homophobia: What kind of a four- year-old is going to get a Babs joke? (And not think it's lame?) So it's a relief that the very funny animated film Over the Hedge gets the balance right. The fast-paced plot — forest animals croweded out by a new cul-de-sac try to break into suburbia and steal processed food — doesn't overplay its green set-up into some onerous message. It just sets up rapid-fire sketches and keeps knocking them down: a turtle (Garry Shandling) who keeps getting whacked out of his shell, a hyperactive squirrell (Steve Carell) who loves caffeine and burps his ABC's, and a stinky skunk (Wanda Sykes) who falls in love with a housepet. Adults might bore quickly, but so what? Go watch Lost and let them kids have their fun. — Logan Hill

Aside from being some of the greatest movies of all time, Charlie Chaplin films (City Lights, Modern Times, The Great Dictator, Shoulder Arms) have a child-like sensibility tailor-made for sensitive kids. Start with these three, and see how quickly any wariness your modern children have about silent films falls by the wayside.

The Circus: For very young children, this back-stage romp through a travelling circus is Chaplin's silliest and most accessible film. Elephants prance, bears dance, and the Tramp wobbles across a high-wire while a monkey dances on Chaplin's back and curls his tail around the star's itchy nose.

The Pawnshop (available on several DVD's, including Kino's The Chaplin Mutuals, Vol. 3): Chaplin plays a klutzy, conniving employee who wreaks havoc and wrecks the joint in ways that generations of slap-stick comedians have imitated. This is like a thirty-two-minute highlight reel of Chaplin's most athletic vaudevillian prop comedy, put to its most preposterous use.

The Kid: The story of a tramp who finds an abandoned baby in an alleyway, this is a "picture with a smile, and perhaps a tear," as the opening titles announce, and it's Chaplin's masterpiece heartbreaker. The Tramp and his young son live in the slums, pull cons on the street (the kid throws rocks through windows; Chaplin sells replacement glass), and run from the mustachioed policeman. There's a wild, experimental dream sequence that was radical for its time, but it's all about the connection between Chaplin and the child — and heartbreaking in its echoes of Chaplin's own vagabond childhood. — Logan Hill

LISA: [turning it on] Okay, this time it's for work, kids. Nobody enjoy this. Just describe it, and make me money.
SADIE: Let me go first! That's John and that's John. They're little men puppets. They're saying, "Hi, my name's John."
WOLF: Some parts are computer animated. Other parts are real people with "Q" and "U" on their heads.
LISA: Why do you like this better than your other movies?
SADIE: Because "C" only likes candy! Uh oh! That's trouble!
LISA: Why do you suppose moms love this, too?
SADIE: Because there's missing letters!
LISA: Moms love missing letters?...read more

LISA: [turning it on] Okay, this time it's for work, kids. Nobody enjoy this. Just describe it, and make me money.
SADIE: Let me go first! That's John and that's John. They're little men puppets. They're saying, "Hi, my name's John."
WOLF: Some parts are computer animated. Other parts are real people with "Q" and "U" on their heads.
LISA: Why do you like this better than your other movies?
SADIE: Because "C" only likes candy! Uh oh! That's trouble!
LISA: Why do you suppose moms love this, too?
SADIE: Because there's missing letters!
LISA: Moms love missing letters?
SADIE: Yeah. There has to be movies that moms like too so kids can watch it whenever they want and not drive their moms crazy and they say very gently, "I just can't take it anymore." Like when Wolfgang watches Flash Gordon.
LISA: Are you feeling this DVD is recreational or educational?
SADIE: Recreational.
WOLF: Educational.
LISA: Are you guys just arguing?
SADIE: No!
WOLF: It's both.
LISA: You're not just saying that for our advertisers, are you, driving our consumer culture?
WOLF: No, it really is educational. I know my letters, of course, but I didn't know about Zimbabwe before.
SADIE: [has to argue] It's not only about countries! It's about the ocean, too.
LISA: Did you guys know there's a song by They Might Be Giants from my youth called "Take The Skinheads Bowling"? Wait, no — that was The Dead Milkmen. Or was it Camper Van Beethoven? — Lisa Carver click to close

At the outset of this collection of choice episodes from Sesame Street's first five years, a cheeky animated character informs you that these episodes are not intended for children, but for nostalgic adults. It's a by-the-books disclaimer from the good people at the Sesame Workshop, who have done enough research to know that these prototype series — filmed with nothing but good intentions and puppets — do not live up to the exacting scientific formulas that govern more recent episodes.
   That's exactly why you should watch this with your kids: becaues these early episodes are raw and relatively guileless (rather more like a child). And even if some of the elements don't work (the nature footage is overlong, underproduced, and cored with sleepy folk revival lullabies), your kids will be full of questions. Children are almost always fascinated with adults' childhood, and this set offers a fun, sweethearted opportunity to talk to your kids about your own memories of the show. Many elements are the same (the theme song and most of the cast) but you'll get to introduce Mr. Hooper and Bob, talk about your old Oscar the Grouch pajamas (okay, maybe that's just me) and share your child's amazement that Oscar was, for the whole first season, orange. — Logan Hill

Now that spelling bees have become the leisure activity of hipsters and celebrity writers, is it fair to think that crack spellers of the future won't be so — how shall we say — antagonized for their knowledge of sesquipedalians? Not likely. But for some children — and adults — this highlight reel of the past seven national spelling bees is a nailbiter on par with the World Series. It has all the controversies, cliffhangers and underdog victories you expect in a good sporting event, except instead of a home run, we're waiting for the correct spelling of "ursprache." Chances are you'll find yourself both stumped and inspired. — Sarah Hepola

Most network cartoons are essentially advertisements, so it's easy for kids to get hooked on lame, repetitive anime like Pokemon. This payola practice isn't exactly shocking (Toons are ads? What?!), but it's still depressing, if only because it makes it easy for kids to miss truly great animators like Hayao Miyazaki.
    Open-hearted and wonderfully strange, Japanese animation great Miyazaki has an uncanny talent for conjuring far-flung dreams and grounding them in convincing child characters. His most recent work (Howl's Moving Castle, Spirited Away, Princess Mononoke) has skewed toward older children and developed darker themes, so parents should introduce younger kids to these three classics, all dubbed in English:...read more

Most network cartoons are essentially advertisements, so it's easy for kids to get hooked on lame, repetitive anime like Pokemon. This payola practice isn't exactly shocking (Toons are ads? What?!), but it's still depressing, if only because it makes it easy for kids to miss truly great animators like Hayao Miyazaki.
    Open-hearted and wonderfully strange, Japanese animation great Miyazaki has an uncanny talent for conjuring far-flung dreams and grounding them in convincing child characters. His most recent work (Howl's Moving Castle, Spirited Away, Princess Mononoke) has skewed toward older children and developed darker themes, so parents should introduce younger kids to these three classics, all dubbed in English:

My Neighbor Totoro
The ultimate Miyazaki: Two young girls with move to a new town on the edge of a forest with their father. Worried about their ill mother, they distract themselves with adventures and begin discovering sprites in the woods. The title character is giant and cuddly — a fearsome, snoring softie, who commutes on a wild tabby cat-bus with an engine that really purrs. Of course, it's the littlest girl, with her spastic, bug-eyed confidence, who saves the day.

Kiki's Delivery Service
Before Harry Potter, this troublemaker was the best broom-rider in the sky — so talented, she started her own Wiccan messenger service. On her thirteenth birthday, Kiki (voiced by Kirsten Dunst) sets out to discover the world with her wisecracking cat (Phil Hartman). It's a sweet ode to independence.

Castle in the Sky
Pirates! Spies! Castles! Magic! Miyazaki mashes up traditional fantasies into a fast-paced, steampunk fantasy about two kids who attempt to save a floating, magical city (Laputa, ? la Jonathan Swift) from the rapacious interests of swarthy air-pirates and wrinkled old bureaucrats. — Logan Hill click to close