I know McDonalds is always an easy target for health nuts and opponents of institutionalized fast food production alike to lambaste for their unhealthy meal offerings, fascist-like corporate culture and worldwide ubiquity, but my latent childhood memories paint those same golden arches with a much more nostalgic palette.
If there’s one thing the 90s did well with their advertising aimed at children, it was their ability to make anything unattainable in life seem perfectly within reach. Drinking a Capri Sun made you turn into a T-1000 / Alex Mack liquid metal badass who could shred some serious ass on a half-pipe. Eating fruit roll-ups made your head turn into an anthropomorphic strawberry. The world was truly your oyster.
My birthday came and went in February and I could not find the motivation necessary to write any kind of coherent post about turning 29. In reality, I’m just happy that it’s not 30.
I’ve been living on the left coast for the better part of 3 months now and my sometimes-overbearing work life has rendered me mostly useless in my few hours of free time. Petty excuses aside, I’ve also just been too goddamn lazy to write anything worth posting.
That is all about to change today with a fantastically engaging article about a new pair of shoes! Are you excited yet?
As much today as in the 90s, it’s quite rare for a sequel to live up to the expectations set by the original. It always seems like a rehash of gags, exposition, character types and plot does little to raise the bar or tread new grounds of storytelling. More often than not, it’s just a complete copy and paste of the first movie in a new locale.
There are the rare occasions, however, when the sequel actually outshines the original. The Godfather: Part 2 is the first one that comes to mind, and I believe this against-all-odds hockey-centric kid’s movie is of the same caliber.
I’m obviously talking about the legendary D2: The Mighty Ducks.
The first part of the formula that Disney gets extremely right in this film is raising the stakes. Abandoning much of the cutesy bullshit from the original film, D2 brings to the table a more interesting and higher-stakes story concept that involves an international event instead of a quaint, small-town regional championship. This time, Coach Bombay and his quacktabular members of the Ducks dynasty are off to the City of Angels to compete in the Jr. Goodwill Games. Rather than just representing their small-town underdog pride, they’re representing AMURRICA against a star-studded stable of racist stereotypes.
Let me start out by saying how terribly sorry I am that I’ve been neglecting the everlasting fuck out of this blog over the last few months. I could come up with a huge list of ridiculous excuses like having my computer hacked by gremlins or being locked in Dave Coulier’s infamous sex dungeon, but I’ll just stick to the facts.
In 1994 just as today, kids were completely infatuated with things that were miniature. Lifesavers Holes, Mini M&M’s, Mighty Max, and Polly Pocket were all the rage. I came up with a profound formula as to why this is the case: anything you love already at its regularly-sized proportions is infinitely more desirable when it’s made miniature. Such is the case with anything related to one of the most popular intellectual properties of the 20th century: the Ninja Turtles.
The Teenage Mutant Mini Mutants play sets hit the market in 1994 with these awesome advertisements:
At the time, only normal-sized Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figures were being sold so this was more than just a novelty, it was a MUST-HAVE for children of the 90s generation. While we salivated and threw temper tantrums in Toys R Us over the run-of-the-mill action figures, these tiny little playsets were responsible for an influx of tier 3 tantrums.