Trouble in Whoville

First off, I'd like to like to apologize to anyone who thought that Monday's post was directed towards all men. I feel priveleged to know a lot of men (and women, for that matter) who didn't get the asshole gene.

Greetings and salutations to Mitch. The flavor of the day is Mocha Java.

CrewsClues posted a link to Artistic Prison, which amused me to no end. I have a nomination...anyone who ever touched the multi-million dollar production of How the Grinch Stole Christmas, now playing at a theater near you.

(Forewarning: there may be some upcoming obscure Seussian references. Get thee to a library if you get confused.)

I'll admit I haven't seen it yet, and in most probability I will shuffle into the local multiplex with a shamefilled expression, possibly in disguise. I may even like the movie. That remains to be seen. But something about the whole project bothers me. Maybe because the original animated feature was a classic, and I have a hard time accepting people messing with the classics. JohnnyB's been needling me about this for a few weeks now, and my mom started in on me today. Yes, I've seen the costumes and the sets. They're gorgeous. Yes, if anyone can pull off the Grinch, it would be Jim Carrey. Yes, I know that Dr. Seuss' widow greenlighted the project. Yes, I know that Rick Baker did all the makeup effects. (I watched the Extra about him the other night when I couldn't sleep.) But to paraphrase Jeff Goldblum's character in Jurassic Park, just because you can do something doesn't mean you should do something. You're messing with my childhood, kids. In my reality, the Grinch is Boris Karloff, Cindy Lou Who is June Foray, and Chuck Jones is directing, not the artist formerly known as Opie.

Maybe I'm just grimacing because The Nightmare Before Christmas was re-released in the theaters and played for a whopping five days, one matinee showing each day. Who was the mastermind behind that marketing idea? I was all jazzed about seeing it on the big screen again, and it's all gone.

I think what's really bothering me about this whole Grinch debacle is the way it's being shoved down America's throat. Entertainment Tonight has been all over the project since day one, the aforementioned Extra did an hour about the genius that is Rick Baker, but led off every single feature with reference to the Mean Green One. Non stop commercials, banners on practically every website known to man, who knows how many T-shirts and stuffed toys and lunchboxes and notebooks and anything else they can slap Jim Carrey's mug on...but I think the last straw was when Visa proclaimed itself the "official card of Whoville," in a marketing tie-in I'm sure they paid beaucoup bucks for. The commercial I saw started with the "Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store./"Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!" revelation, and then completely negates the theme of the freakin' story by adding "but just in case...." Gratuitous shots of all the Whos down in Whoville, the tall and the small, buying as many presents as they can carry and putting them all on plastic. Way to miss the point, guys. What's next? The Lorax, as brought to you by Exxon? (I'm not even going to offer up my thoughts on the Broadway show Seussical.) Did you send everyone in the cast and crew a Thneed for Christmas, Ron Howard? Huh? Huh? Did you?

(And if you think I'm linking to anything relating to this box office bonanza, you're sadly mistaken. I'm just a bad banana with a greasy black peel.)

No, actually, I have seen the next Seussian project that Hollywood is planning on overproducing: The Cat in the Hat, starring Tim Allen. (I was screaming "No! No! No!" when they announced that little tidbit at 3am.) Gee, maybe if we're really lucky, they'll cast the Olsen twins as Thing 1 and Thing 2.

Bet they don't have troubles like this in Solla Sollew. You know the place. "On the banks of the beautiful River Wah-Hoo,/ Where they never have troubles. At least very few."