Fantasy Round 33: LEGOs
I’m putting it under Fantasy, since I’m not sure where else it would fit well, but it’s kind of a Fantasy Kitchen Sink.
I expected it to be cliché heavy and mildly amusing. For the most part, I was not disappointed. However… the ending. The ending.
I’ll be spoiling everything here, of course, but beware — the third act includes rage.
As it turns out, repeated dismemberment and explosions are much funnier with Lego people. Just watching the motion of the Lego pieces was a bit eerie. They were somewhat consistent with this, however — heads spinning 360˚ were commonplace, and speed construction happens all the time. The non-Lego items – “artifacts” – were also treated as suitably alien, which was greatly entertaining.
On the other hand, the freezing of people and things with “Kragle” (aka Super Glue) doesn’t seem quite right. Back in the real world, such glue doesn’t set instantaneously, and thin layers can be easily broken apart. Further, the glue remover… well, I didn’t quite catch exactly what they were using for that, but I suspect that it would be likely to damage the material of the Legos in the process, and generally be a smelly and difficult thing to use.
Meanwhile, there are a lot of other lovely little tidbits, like the part where Emmett’s “face is so generic, it matches every other face in the database!” And, of course, the region with knights and dragons named “Middle Zealand.”
The anvil-dropping is pretty serious in this one.
I did enjoy the parallel development of the “real world” events, of the boy playing with the Legos his father didn’t want to be disturbed from their state of perfection. The moral was something about sharing, teamwork, and that Legos are meant to be played with, not glued down.
Okay, I can get behind that. But, wow. Anvils. Thunk.
I will admit, however, that I strongly sympathized with the father in this scenario. When I had Legos, I wanted to build them following the instructions, and make things awesome, and then… not break them. My brothers were less focused on this, with the consequence that they would do funny things with their pirate ships and so forth from time to time. But I loved helping them with the initial build.
The one thing I really would have loved to get, in terms of Legos, was not one of the big sets (although I did enjoy putting them together), but a big bucket of a nice mixture of random loose pieces. Something that I could play with, redesign, and break apart to build something new, without feeling bad about taking apart my big ancient Egyptian tomb or Mars robots.
So, the hero gets the girl he’s been pining after for the entire movie, despite the fact that somebody else was her boyfriend at the time and the fact the he frequently just stared and (metaphorically) drooled at her rather than pay any attention to what she was saying or attempt to treat her like a human being. (Or Lego being. Whatever.)
Fine. That’s pretty much par for the course in cliché-land.
“Guess who else gets to play down here?” “Who?” “Your sister.” This is followed up by the appearance of a bunch of Duplo (giant-Lego for small children) bricks showing up, characterized as aliens who are about to invade.
I don’t even know how to react to this.
You’re just pulling up the useless younger sister thing. And also implying that the useless younger sister isn’t that good at playing with others, and will ruin the experience for her older brother.
I just… I can’t even. This was never my experience, though I speak as the older sister, and not the younger. I’ll admit frustration sometimes, when my youngest brother wasn’t old enough to really understand the play storytelling we would do, and I still feel bad about how we put him off to the side sometimes with his own toys. But there was never an expectation that he would conquer all the rest of everything.
It’s just… really, guys? Really? The only option here was a sister so young she’s not allowed to have ordinary Legos? Anything about some cool new idea she’s going to introduce to the Lego world, or the attack of the fire-breathing T. Rex she built herself or… something? Anything other than cutesy Duplo aliens that don’t seem to fully understand English…
But, no, you had to go for the cheap shot.
And now, for happier things: Emily Lakdawalla building Lego Taj Mahal.