et tu, ken marks?
File under “the things you do for love,” but we took the kids to see The Squeakquel over the holidays. It was possibly the worst movie I’ve ever paid to see in the theater. But The New Yorker’s Ken Marks disagreed.
The visages of the rockin’ rodents are, in fact, remarkably expressive, the jokes are reasonably funny, the lesson of sticking by your pals is not too corny, and the battle-of-the-bands finale, in which Toby accepts some grownup responsibility and finds love in the process, is surprisingly moving.
/me puts head in hands.