As a general rule, I endeavor at all times to avoid the judging of books, movies, beverages, and battle axes which I have not, personally, read, watched, quaffed, or wielded upon the glorious field of battle, respectively. Sometimes, however, it is more fun to simply speculate wildly and cast unwonted aspersions upon things, and in such situations, sound ethics and propriety must stand aside just for the hell of it. It is in such a vein that I offer you the following review of the movie “Hoot.” In truth, I haven’t read the book, nor seen the movie; also I have failed to take the advice of that forestry owl and polluted on many an occasion, and have only been to Hooters once, to take in Wrestlemania (alas, it failed to live up to the hype, and the waitresses were at best only about a third as spicy as were the buffalo wings). In short, it is possible that some small error may find its way into the coming paragraphs, however unlikely that may seem, infallible font of awesomeness that I usually am.
So, if I understand correctly, “Hoot” is based upon the premise that a group of lovable children band together to save a colony of partially subterranean owls from destruction at the hands of an evil transnational pancake house consortium by carrying out acts of eco-terrorism. This is, without a doubt, the silliest premise for a movie since we were all asked to believe a few years back that Ben Affleck would actually fight against the Japanese in World War II ( a laughable notion indeed, since I have recently discovered that his full name is in fact, Ben Hirohito Affleck).
Now, evil corporations in movies are nothing new, but couldn’t they have done better than to make the heartless capitalist entity du jour a pancake house? Why not an evil oil company that wants to turn the owls into premium blend bio-diesel? Or maybe an evil pharmaceuticals company that wants to use the owls to test a new cure of cancer which could eventually save millions of lives, many, if not all of them, evil too? Or how about if Dick Cheney just wanted to buy the land and then shoot all the owls in the face? Really though, making a pancake house into the bad guy is like making the villains a group of old church ladies who want to build an orphanage for the clinically cute hobbit children.
And seriously, what’s up with owls that live underground? I mean, every owl I’ve ever seen or tasted lived in trees and doled out wisdom concerning the longevity of Tootsie Roll Pops. Sure, all these biologists and owl fanciers claim there’s actually a breed of subterranean owl, but such folk are also liable to go about claiming the existence of things like unicorns and the state of Wyoming, neither of which I’ve ever seen any evidence of either. And even if there were owls that lived underground, I’m pretty sure they would themselves be evil, it being the case that the darker regions of the Earth are a domain which any wholesome and decent owl should be loath to inhabit.
Finally, let’s take a look at the sabotage part of all this. It seems, if I understand correctly, that in order to stall the inevitable de-owling of this fabled field, the plucky band of youths in question (and know ye full well that I have always attached an air of the greatest derision to the word “plucky” ever since a certain one time coworker of mine referred to me as “the plucky comic relief” at every opportunity. Not to be outdone, I generally referred to him as “the plucky fat lazy nancy boy with delusions of competence,” though only in a jovial vein and in the spirit of workplace camaraderie) set about breaking the construction equipment to be used for the manufacture of the aforementioned pancake emporium. But who pays for these little acts of destruction? Surely not the vile and avaricious pancake executives who get paid regardless of how construction progresses. No, the price is exacted from the contractor and his employees who lose profits as their task is slowed by misguided urchins. So yeah, Toby McDoogooder, remember that the only thing you’re really doing is making it so that some poor guy in a hard hat can’t send his kid to college some day, so those owls had damn well better be worth it.
So, in short, we have a movie in which a number of children, apparently suffering from those violent tendencies which can only be induced by video games and Snickers bars decide to embark upon an epic campaign of annihilation against a crew of honest blue-collar workers building a restaurant over the blighted realm of some kind of hideous morlock cave owls. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be taking my hypothetical children to see such nonsense. Also, did I mention that “Hoot” is also the name of a new Iranian torpedo? So we can all see where the sympathies of this film’s makers clearly lie.
So, if you do decide to go out and see this one, make sure you say hi to the Ayatollah for me while you’re there, Mr. Spongebob Commiepants.
