LEGO selfie.
THE LEGO MOVIE - Doodle Review.
When my girlfriend Lily and I walked into the local Picturehouse cinema, Duke’s at Komedia, it only took seconds to clock that we were the only two “adults” (debatable) that weren’t accompanied by a member of the smaller persuasion. And no we didn’t take LEGO figures with us, I’m talking about kids. Children, tiddly-winks, bambinos - whatever you call them, there was a shit load of the little gits. Komedia’s commendable stock of booster seats was under serious threat of running dry.
I’m normally a pretty serious film goer, and by serious I don’t mean prolific (though I’m trying to go way more often after picking up a Picturehouse membership - an absolute bargain at £36). No, I mean grumpy. Grumpy and snobby. It only takes a few loud conversations during the trailers to get me hating everybody in the room. But this occasion stands out as a true exception to that rule.
Not only should you all go to see ‘the LEGO movie’ at the next nearest opportunity, you should do your best to see it in a theatre full of small folk. Because at the heart of this flick is pure juvenile abandon and childhood reminiscence. Not only is this the funnest (… real word?) film that you will see in a long while, it’s the funniest too.
Maybe it’s the fact that it pokes fun at itself as much as anything else, or maybe it’s simply because the strength of LEGO’s brilliant design has endured for so long, but I dare you to go see it and not come away with a dozen unearthed memories about your own play sets growing up. In fact I challenge you to not walk out of a showing with sore cheeks from 100 minutes of pure, inane grinning, simultaneously hating how much you love the film’s song ‘Everything is awesome’.
The animation is absolutely gorgeous, being that which drew me in the first instance. During one calm moment (there’s not many), I overheard a small person nearby exclaim “That’s just like my LEGO horse!”. That’s exactly how the quality of the rendering here makes you feel, which is probably one of the only things that stopped me chucking some sweets at his head. Down to the exact amount of dust particles on screen, or the plastic mould lines on every object, the attention to detail here is frankly staggering. 
I could talk about how the film cleverly swerves clear of being pure advertising. I could talk about a middle section that becomes frankly chaotic followed by a third act that comes dangerously close to ruin before a redemptive, surprisingly touching finale. Instead I’ll just urge you to check it out and see for yourself. Now. Go NOW!
Verdict: More than ok, it’s awesome! **** out of *****

LEGO selfie.


THE LEGO MOVIE - Doodle Review.

When my girlfriend Lily and I walked into the local Picturehouse cinema, Duke’s at Komedia, it only took seconds to clock that we were the only two “adults” (debatable) that weren’t accompanied by a member of the smaller persuasion. And no we didn’t take LEGO figures with us, I’m talking about kids. Children, tiddly-winks, bambinos - whatever you call them, there was a shit load of the little gits. Komedia’s commendable stock of booster seats was under serious threat of running dry.

I’m normally a pretty serious film goer, and by serious I don’t mean prolific (though I’m trying to go way more often after picking up a Picturehouse membership - an absolute bargain at £36). No, I mean grumpy. Grumpy and snobby. It only takes a few loud conversations during the trailers to get me hating everybody in the room. But this occasion stands out as a true exception to that rule.

Not only should you all go to see ‘the LEGO movie’ at the next nearest opportunity, you should do your best to see it in a theatre full of small folk. Because at the heart of this flick is pure juvenile abandon and childhood reminiscence. Not only is this the funnest (… real word?) film that you will see in a long while, it’s the funniest too.

Maybe it’s the fact that it pokes fun at itself as much as anything else, or maybe it’s simply because the strength of LEGO’s brilliant design has endured for so long, but I dare you to go see it and not come away with a dozen unearthed memories about your own play sets growing up. In fact I challenge you to not walk out of a showing with sore cheeks from 100 minutes of pure, inane grinning, simultaneously hating how much you love the film’s song ‘Everything is awesome’.

The animation is absolutely gorgeous, being that which drew me in the first instance. During one calm moment (there’s not many), I overheard a small person nearby exclaim “That’s just like my LEGO horse!”. That’s exactly how the quality of the rendering here makes you feel, which is probably one of the only things that stopped me chucking some sweets at his head. Down to the exact amount of dust particles on screen, or the plastic mould lines on every object, the attention to detail here is frankly staggering. 

I could talk about how the film cleverly swerves clear of being pure advertising. I could talk about a middle section that becomes frankly chaotic followed by a third act that comes dangerously close to ruin before a redemptive, surprisingly touching finale. Instead I’ll just urge you to check it out and see for yourself. Now. Go NOW!


Verdict: More than ok, it’s awesome! **** out of *****