I'm old enough now that nostalgia from my childhood isn't just fun and memory-jogging, but it's become profitable for Hollywood to try again. Case in point, The Smurfs. Of course, I could harp on The Chipmunks too, but I really love me a boyband. Back to my point, why can't Hollywood remake something useful, like Jem or She-Ra? Now those were some strong cartoon women, living their double lives and all like 80s Hannah Montanas.
Maybe I should back up a little and explain my distaste for The Smurfs a bit more. In 1986, my family went to Kings Dominion, which is an amusement park a little outside of Richmond. Considering I was 4 years old, there wasn't much that I was thrilled by there, so, my parents thought Smurf Mountain would be my bag. No, it wasn't. I was 4. I didn't even know who the Smurfs were. However, the very blue Smurfberry ice cream they served outside of Smurf Mountain was a winner.
After our fun day at Kings Dominion, I was all "la la lalalala la lalalala" skipping off to the bathroom when something catastrophic happened. I shrieked and ran into my parents' bedroom, romper around my ankles shouting, "I'M DYING!" I made them come into the bathroom to look at the horror. I had pooped blue. Not like a slight tinge of blue, but full-on, metabolized, processed, yet still vibrant Smurf blue.
After the blue incident, I investigated those Smurfs a little further. I was a pretty logical 4 year old (I knew that poop shouldn't be blue in a healthy person, after all), so after watching the show, I firehosed my mom with questions like:
"Mommy, what's with the hats?"
"It's their look, Kelly."
"Mommy, why's there only one girl?"
"Hey, Mommy, what's a Gargamel?"
"It's a...a what? Can't you and Teddy go watch something else?"
"Mommy. Mommy! Why are Smurfs blue?"
"So you can have blue ice cream and think you're dying. I don't know, Kelly!"
With none of my questions answered and an inability to understand The Smurfs on my own, my little brain was on overload. I just...I just couldn't. The Smurfs and their related marketing and merchandise did not compute. In fact, I still don't get the whole deal, and now they're back. What if I had a 4 year old, which I theoretically could, and I had to answer questions about Smurfs. I'd be even more unequipped for motherhood. Why can't Hollywood just make cartoon characters that make total sense, like crime fighting cat-humans or young animals with half of a nanny?
There are plenty of things I get irrationally angry about, like people who spell ridiculous "rediculous," the way Eric feels the need to drink his yogurt, and the whole concept of mayonnaise, but the return of The Smurfs is working its way onto my list. So, no, Hollywood. No.