As I sit here and write this review (a week late because I was prevented from attending an advance screening due to that very common ailment known as FEAR), "Scooby-Doo" has already entered the weekend as the #1 film in the country, having scooped up over $56 million the previous weekend.
What exactly compels the American public to throw $56 million at a movie like "Scooby-Doo," a movie so dumb it's unlikely to catalyze a single neural synapse within its catatonic, drooling audience? It's simple, really. The American public is approximately 95% moron. These morons toss their cigarette butts out of the car into dry brush, they try to talk on their cell phones while riding their bikes, they demand lower taxes and more services, and they go to see the "Scooby-Doo" movie –- in great, fertile droves.
When the film started, the kid sitting in front of me turned around and asked, "Did you see the cool computer-animated dog?" to which I responded, "Did you see the rack on Velma (Linda Cardellini)?" Velma does indeed have quite the rack. As the movie progresses, her neckline drops until it's almost the beginning of a thong. It's the same story for Daphne (Sarah Michelle Gellar). Fred (Freddie Prinze Jr.) is supposed to be dashing himself, but Freddie Prinze Jr. as a blond looks creepier than Joan Rivers after a fresh round of botox injections. I realize that the filmmakers are only trying to increase the sex appeal, but is it really wise to inspire a whole new generation with nascent sexual fantasies involving cartoonish detectives and their talking dog? (I have yet to get a woman to willingly don the Velma outfit.)
And as for Scooby and Shaggy themselves, I suspect the current crop of fans has yet to learn what any old-school Scooby-Doo fan knows all too well: Shaggy (Matthew Lillard) and Scooby (Intel) are major stoners. We're talking Scooby-Snack-inhaling, High-Times subscribing, 6-foot-Grafix-smoking stoners. If John Ashcroft had his way, Scooby and Shaggy would be facing 25 to life. I found this dichotomy rather disturbing, frankly -- they're cute cartoon characters in one context and felons in another. I think each parent who takes a child to see this movie should clarify: "Honey, I know you like Shaggy and Scooby, but they should be in jail."
Note: Several people wrote demanding dynamite or worse for this film. To them, let me say this: No film that posits Scrappy Doo as its major villain is eligible to receive worse than 4 bombs. Scrappy Doo is the antichrist. That this movie recognizes him as such, however, is its sole redeeming quality.
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