Columbine in the making

Wow, I haven’t had so much fun since my last root canal. While watching The SpongeBob Squarepants Movie, I squirmed in my seat for the longest 88 minutes of my life, and could only wonder why so many people have taken a liking to the little bugger. This migraine of a movie is for fans of the show, only.

It’s easy to understand why kids like him. He’s hyper, silly, and crude, with doo-doo and ding-dong jokes aplenty. But parents? I don’t get it. Does parenthood numb the mind so much that a pointless sight-gag involving David Hasselhoff’s chest is somehow hilarious? I just don’t get it.

At the open of The SpongeBob Squarepants Movie, SpongeBob is denied the promotion to manager, at work. Things get worse when his boss is framed for the theft of the king’s crown. This presents an opportunity, however, for SpongeBob and best buddy Patrick to save the day, by venturing to Shell City to retrieve the stolen goods.

SpongeBob ends up saving the day, of course, and in the process, everybody learns a nice little lesson about how it’s okay to be a kid. Awww, how sweet. Problem is, the lesson is totally contrived and carries about as much emotional weight as the “knowing is half the battle” hoo-ha at the end of a G.I. Joe episode. And here’s what’s really messed up—the lessons the kids will learn in The SpongeBob Squarepants Movie are more than a little suspect.

When SpongeBob is rejected from promotion, he heads to the bar and goes on a drinking binge with Patrick. They get completely trashed and party the night away. Sure, the alcohol is disguised as ice cream, but kids aren’t stupid. Five-year-olds will miss the joke, but anybody over 12 will see, quite clearly, that SpongeBob and Patrick are getting drunk and having a lot of fun doing it. So, Nickelodeon’s most popular cartoon is promoting drug abuse. Nice work, Bob. Why don’t you spark a doob and shoot some smack while you’re at it?

Worse yet is the abject abundance of gleeful violence on display. Violence sells, so its use is rampant, but at least in most children’s movies it’s portrayed in a way to show that it is bad and scary. In SpongeBob it’s supposed to be funny.

Hey, that guy got punched in the face. What a hoot. Look, that guy was brutally beaten by a mob of thugs. I can’t stop laughing. And we wonder why America is so violent. When Columbine happens again, don’t blame Marilyn Manson or Eminem. Blame SpongeBob.

De Vinci Code for Dummies

Producer Jerry Bruckheimer (Pearl Harbor, Bad Boys 2) likes to blow stuff up. I’m absolutely certain that if Beavis and Butthead produced movies, their work would be identical to his. He knows the formula. Take a big-name actor, and surround him with a plucky sidekick, at least one car chase, big explosions, and a hot chick with nice boobs. Uhhhehehe. Hey, Beavis. I said boobs.

That’s not to say Bruckheimer isn’t a business genius. Over the last decade, alone, his movies have combined to top $200 billion. Hey, that’s almost enough to manufacture a war in the Middle East. National Treasure is exactly what you should expect from the king of the popcorn flick. It’s not a good movie, and will be forgotten in a few years. It is, however, kind of fun, and in the end, isn’t that all that matters?

Plausibility is completely thrown out the window in National Treasure. I had completely lost the ability to suspend disbelief by the time Nicholas Cage discovered the holographic image drawn, with invisible ink, on the back of the Declaration of Independence.

With sidekick and hot chick in tow, Cage searches like a madman for long lost treasure, following cryptic clues left behind by America’s founding fathers. I loved the manner in which Cage decoded the riddles, like Batman dissecting a note from the Riddler. “Hmmm…’2-29’, what could it mean? Let’s see, tomorrow is Feb. 29th, so this is leap year. Leap. Frogs like to leap. French people eat frog legs. Of course. The Riddler is hiding in the Eiffel Tower!”

Pseudo-science and faux intellectualism are the rule in National Treasure, a movie that wants to be the big screen adaptation of “The de Vinci Code”, but comes closer to Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. This is what happens when Hollywood screenwriters try to be smart.

If it’s so stupid, though, what does National Treasure have going for itself? I think I already said it—plucky sidekick, at least one car chase, big explosions, and a hot chick with nice boobs. Oh, and my sister says “Nicholas Cage is still hot”. I don’t see it. I look at him and see an albino turtle with a hangover. Since I don’t play for the other team, however, I guess my vote doesn’t count.

National Treasure is proof that fun doesn’t have to be smart. It’s got a little adventure and some very funny moments. It’s certainly not a great movie, but it is decent, brainless entertainment, and that’s just fine.

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Comments? E-mail Joe Weindl at joewatchesmovies@yahoo.com.