Thursday, November 10, 2016

Trolls (movie review)

Carol (mom, 87) and I (58) thought today was Armistice Day.  I'd already blogged a Vets memo, and knew the 11th was it, but was too lazy to second guess mom.  Pioneer Courthouse Square was getting ready to accept the annual Christmas tree.  No bell ringing today.

We ending up at Yard House for lunch.  We split a "trump tower" of onion rings, though neither of us had voted for the guy.  Onion soup.  Wisconsin cheese curds.  I had a couple IPAs (RPM by Boneyard).

Hey, the Election has been exhausting and I worked hard at my teaching job last night.  The school kids are getting a bunch of days off this week too.  Why not see Trolls?

The film was funnier than I expected it to be, mainly because of the brain-wipe we get as it overdubs old tracks with the new imagery.  Yellow Submarine mixes with Cinderella a bit.

The Blue Meanie Grinches (not what they're called) make the classic mistake of all literalists, especially cannibals, in thinking that literally eating those with the qualities you admire or crave, will endow you with those qualities.  I think some people call it "mass".

In any case, the trolls are like the angels, or the little people of the forest, all glittery and child-like, upbeat about life, whereas the grinches are like ordinary folk, down and miserable, more beaten, like muggles. They're jealous of the glitterati.

The chief cook for Trollstice, the annual partaking of trolls, is the arch villain whereas we develop more empathy for the spoiled Brat King.  The chief cook gets her fate with a traitor troll and minion, one of those slimy self-help guys.  Empathy only goes so far.

That's the plot, but the musical overlay is what gives these bones flesh, along with the subplots and strong characterizations.

Trolls dance, hug and sing in some endless loop anyway, so their breaking into song is hardly as contrived as when Buffy does it.

Sounds of Silence will never be the same.