"Kristy, this brilliant idea might actually be brilliant!" - Jessie
Nope.
Who needs plot when you can have no less than five subplots? This is a question "The Baby-Sitters Club" strives to answer. For those who never read the books, it's about seven girls of standard archetypes who babysit and go through 13-year-old problems. Tomboy Kristy's deadbeat dad comes back into her life and she decides to hide it from everyone like she's having an affair (which they all weirdly assume and have no issue with her dating a guy in his 40s), Artsy Claudia needs to retake a science test or fail, Shopaholic Stacy is trying to hook up with a 17-year-old Swedish guy and keep her diabetes a secret from him, Hippie Dawn is trying to avoid some possibly insane suitor, and the whole club is trying to run a summer day camp for the kids they sit for without it being taken down by Mary Ann and Dawn's neighbor who understandably hates loud children or by Bitchy Cokie Mason, some chick who hates the club for no reason and is constantly hitting on Prim Mary Ann's boyfriend, Southern Logan. Got all that? Good. Everything works out in the positive in the end expect Kristy's dad up and leaves and doesn't come back, the only thing that defies audience expectations. On that I leave you with some word association. Sperm pancakes. A 16+ club in New York City. 90s fashion. "Let's Get Busy." A toilet-papered greenhouse. "WHEN DID YOU EAT A MUFFIN, STACEY?!". A boy flapping around like a bird in some kind of mating ritual. A rap about the circulatory system. Poor accounting skills. And screaming children. Oh, so many screaming children.
Adam's Grandma's Review: "It was good for a while. I started to get sleepy towards the end."
No comments:
Post a Comment