Say what you want, but I refuse to be embarrassed about this: I’m a big fan of kids' movies.
Take Enchanted, for example. I loved the way they mixed the animations with real life, and the fact that Prince Charming calls the TV a Magic Mirror was just an added bonus. (Not having a TV myself, I can really relate to that.)
It’s not just new movies, I like old ones, too. The other day I went to see Thunderbolt and Lightfoot with Jeff Bridges and Clint Eastwood. Oh, and what to think of Breakfast at Tiffany’s, which I saw earlier this year, or Don’t Look Now? All available on my doorstep at the British Film Institute on the Southbank. Bliss. They show newer movies too, and was one of the first cinemas to show the King’s Speech.
My current favourite is, however, the Disney Season. All 50 Disney movies in gloriously restored technicolor. I recently went to see Bambi with a friend who grew up in Hungary where all Disney movies were banned due to some political issue. She’d heard of Bambi, didn’t have a clue about Dumbo, though, poor thing. For weeks we managed to find very apt situations in which to use, “He’s kind of wobbly, isn’t he” and “If you have nothing nice to say you better say naaaathiiiiing”. And what to think about the Aristocats and the memorable lyrics to Everybody Wants to be a Cat, which certainly has some very naughty lines in it that go straight over the kids' heads. Or Shrek, or, or...
It can be a bit daunting, though, to go and see kids' movies without that seemingly necessary accessory called 'a child'. The Disney series in the BFI is not too bad, as I have noticed an amazing amount of adults going there without one. Generally, however, you tend to get stared at if you don’t have a child with you. It almost feels you're being accused of forgetting it, or losing it on your way. Trust me, I haven’t. In order to forget them, you’ve got to have them in the first place. However, I do sometimes get the feeling I should have just picked up a random child from the street to accompany me. Unexpectedly, it doesn’t stop me from going, and I know I am certainly not the only one. I can’t wait for my friend’s kids to grow up a bit so I can drag them along.
Although perhaps I’ll give them a choice. I wouldn't want to end up with a screaming child that really didn’t want to be in the cinema, but was forced to go by the weird aunty.