Quest for Camelot

Bomb Rating: 

This is animated, BTW-- Warner Brothers' attempt to cut into Disney's monopoly on anorexic little girls with absurdly huge breasts who sing gratingly treacly songs every damn hour of every damn day.

What a lovely, politically correct tale -- one that's about as far-fetched as Jews and Christians joining hands around Christ's crucifix shortly after his death and singing light holiday ditties. Set during Arthurian times, this story revolves around a young girl recovering Excalibur, returning it to Arthur in time to save his kingdom, getting laid by the blind dude that helps her through the forest, then getting knighted just like her daddy Sir Lionel.

This is animated, BTW -- Warner Brothers' attempt to cut into Disney's monopoly on anorexic little girls with absurdly huge breasts who sing gratingly treacly songs every damn hour of every damn day. When the blind stud, Garrett (Cary Elwes), looks like he's about to croak, he starts belting out show tunes, implying that one's death throes is as good a time for song as any. My proctologist would beg to differ. Try singing "Oklahoma" with a doctor's finger up your ass sometime -- believe me, it's tough to nail the high notes with any degree of precision.

Some credit should be given to Warner Brothers for not having every animal in the forest sound like some over-the-hill, stand-up comedian. There's actually a falcon that doesn't say a thing. The other two animals, however, give off the aura of a decrepit comedy club on "ain't it sad" night. There is a two-headed dragon that won't shut up, with voices by Eric Idle and Don Rickles (see "over-the-hill, stand-up comedian") and a griffin who sounds suspiciously like Bronson Pinchot (see previous parenthetical note) who does the dirty work for the film's bad guy, Ruber (Gary Oldman).

It seems like every single one of these animated films draws from exactly the same formula: People and forest creatures sing morality tunes. As the line between entertainment and brainwashing grows ever narrower, it's time to wonder whether animation has any real purpose beyond keeping a three-year-old from screaming his or her head off for ninety minutes.

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