***1/2 out of 5
***** out of 5 for marketing
Directed by: Who cares
Written by: Some dudes
Starring: Alex, Marty, David Schwimmer & Gloria
I’m confused. I thought I was seeing a kids’ movie & somehow wandered into a Fellini film.
Or was there LSD in my snacks? Where was that suave Italian guy from La Dolce Vita? This review will take its cue from Madagascar 3 and play fast & loose with reality. No! I regret nothing!
This colorful confection of a movie has none of the heart of a Pixar film, it doesn’t aim that high. It does have slapstick laughs aplenty for the kids and smart dialogue and visuals for the adults. I assume Noah Baumbach got tired of complicated storylines and took this screenwriting job.
The kids loved it and the adults were entertained. Plus there was a very special guest appearance by Elton John starring as the debauched chimpanzees. Strike that, reverse it.
I attended this with my young son as part of a child’s birthday party. Every one of them knew all the words and sang along with Chris Rock’s Marty as he rhapsodized about circus Afros. Bravo DreamWork’s marketing department.
The Madagascar movies always offer multiple films in one movie, as was the case here. We have the main storyline, King Julian & his entourages’ storyline, and those lovable, borderline psychopathic penguins’ Dirty Dozen storyline. Often the lemurs and penguins are the most entertaining for me, being unencumbered by plot. This trend continued here.
Some of the humor did mine stereotypes, such as the scary grumpy Russian tiger. Quit harshing my mellow, scary grumpy Russian tiger bra!
The over-emotional under-cerebral Italian sea lion channeling Roberto Benigni and the rich, white American cowboy patriot dude.
Then of course Edith Piaf crossed with a psycho lady gendarme who sings the Fench Foreign Legion’s rallying song, “Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien” (No, I regret nothing) in a totally respectful manner.
Then there was a love affair that wasn’t weird at all between fan fave King Julian the lemur and a she-bear who inexplicably cannot talk. Their romantic ride through Rome as Andrea Bocelli’s warm voice envelops them…kinda sweet in a not weird at all way.
Overall, I’m pleased my child was entertained, will be nonplussed by future viewings of Italian surrealist film, won’t need to experiment with hallucinogens to experience trippy visuals, will be familiar with broad assumptions about other cultures, and will have joining Cirque du Soleil as a man dressed as a monkey dressed as Louis the XIV singing French Foreign Legion songs as his lifelong ambition.
Do I regret anything about this review? Oui! Ou est les photos de ce bel homme Marcello Mastrioanni?
Film Sloth 