Heresy: I didn't like "Up"

I will grant you, part of this may have been the child in the theater.
Correction: not the child; the child's parents.

I'm not really anti-child; I swear. But I don't go to matinees of what some might erroneously think are children's films (how on earth, I ask you, is "Up" supposed to be a children's film?) because I accept that it is perfectly reasonable to expect lots of child-chatter during those times, and that's not what I want to spend my $13.50 to hear. On the flip side of that, when I go to an evening show, I don't expect the movie to be regularly punctuated by loud -- loud, mind you, not whispered or even normal-voiced -- commentary on why is she crying? Why is he looking sad? What's a snipe? BIRD-ie!

Furthermore, were I to hear these things, it would not be the fault of the child, who is, after all, to be expected to be a child, but that of the parents, who are (erroneously, in this case) expected not to be. And I would fully expect to hear "use your inside voice, sweetie," at least once, or, better yet (dare I dream?), "shhh. People are trying to watch the movie, dear." And if I did not hear these things, I would feel fully justified in exercising a bit of in loco parentis and uttering some version of them myself. What's more, were I to deploy this option, I would certainly not expect an unrelated gent a few seats away to insert himself into the situation by loudly declaring "lighten up -- it's a kids' movie."

Ok. First: it's not a goddamn kids' movie. I mean, not in the aesthetic sense (more on that later) and certainly not in this sense: if I've paid full ticket price -- actually, two ticket prices plus two absurd 3-D surcharges -- it is not to see a movie made for a particular kid in the audience who gets to exercise proprietary rights (barring aforementioned matinee exception, which I think is a perfectly reasonable compromise). It becomes, in effect, my movie.

Second, and closely related: what my buttinsky co-viewer failed with the lovely little weltanschauung he felt entitled to try to ram down my throat is what we like to call the Categorical Imperative test. By all means, let's all exercise the liberties this child is taking! Allow me to loudly narrate: why are there no living female characters in this movie? Why does the boy's mother not notice that he's disappeared for a week? Everybody: join in! Top of your voices, please! (I don't actually put forth this objection in public, due to my incredibly strong suspicion that an appallingly large percentage of the audience would find it perfectly acceptable.)

Subduing our individual appetites and selfish whims when in public, for the sake of interactions that could be agreeably universalized, is one of the most important lessons we learn as human animals and the bedrock of civil society (along with the equally neglected art of distinguishing private from public). I say start 'em young.

And, oh yeah, the movie sucked.

As already stated: not a kids' film in any sense. Any movie that has as a major incidental point that everything you love will inevitably be taken from you is not a movie that kids should see. And I speak as an erstwhile kid who saw too many of them.

Also not, as billed, a comedy. I think the solitary time I cracked a smile was in the way in which the alpha dog was overthrown, and that was more a bit of drollery than an actual joke.

Why could the boy not have been a girl? It'd have made a more resonant circle with the memory of Ellie, and just been an excellent chance to introduce an unusually strong female character, especially to all the children whom parents are insisting on traumatizing. NPR gets it (but reading the comments, especially from men, is depressing).

Why do we accept it as normal and natural that Russell gets his badge pinned on by the old guy? I mean: thank god he was there! Otherwise, who would've done it? The mother?

And think about this: the testosterone obsession in this film is so high, the bird is forced to undergo acts unnatural to all but the seahorse. You can see the filmmakers' problem: the bird has to be male, and is declared so by Russell. But, wait! What possible sympathetic motivation can he then have for needing to remain in South America? After all, we don't want to make a statement about the power of loving fatherhood! So -- haha -- the he-bird is, actually, a she-bird. That's just a bit of humor right? Wrong. Humor (dumb humor, but humor nonetheless) would've come in from repeated iterations of "that bird Kevin, she..." But that's not what we get. We get "that bird Kevin, he...". ...Happens to have given birth, as it turns out. The character is fully male and is treated as such, and stands as a symbol of the lengths and discontinuities to which the filmmakers are willing to go in order not to have estrogen intrude on their little adventure tale.

I say to hell with it, and I say that if you want to go see an engaging piece of animation, check out the adaptation of Etgar Keret's stories, called "9.99." This movie has its own gender problems, but at least it's both charming and provocative and even achieves a kind of lyricism in places. Plus, the cartoon sex should keep the kiddies away -- and, even if doesn't, they'll be less scarred than by Pixar's weepy little sausage-fest of a death meditation.