During the worst of Covid, theaters were closed. A number of movies were released straight to streaming services, including a few of the new Pixar films. Disney decided to bring those movies to the big screen for the first time. I was mad at myself for missing Elemental on the big screen, so I thought I should at least see Turning Red in theaters (I want to see Luca too, when it's turn comes).
To my surprise, the short that proceeded Turning Red was one of my favorite Disney shorts: Kitbull. It's so good. But it had me crying before the movie even started. Yeesh.
Speaking of tears, Turning Red animates their tears in a cool way. They're really shiny, almost with a pearly quality. And for some reason, this time I actually cried while watching Turning Red. I don't even remember which scene. I just felt Mei's sense of isolation, I suppose.
As I mentioned in my previous post about this movie, Mei and her friends remind me of my group of high school friends. At the end of college, that group pretty much went up in flames. And now the cynical part of me is looking at Mei being comforted by her friends and thinking, "how will she control her panda when her friends break her heart?"
But no. I'll insist that Mei and her friends always stay friends!
At the zoo, I talked to a lot of guests about Turning Red, since the filmmakers studied our pandas to make the movie. You know how cats rub their cheeks on things to mark their territory? Well, red pandas do that too. Except their scent glands aren't on their cheeks. They're on their butts. I kid you not. So you'll see the red pandas going around, rubbing their bums on things. I explain this to people, who are wondering what the hell is going on. And one guy said that the panda was gyrating, as Mei does in the movie. We had a good laugh about that. Another time, there was this little little girl that liked the movie. Particularly the "gyrating." She started shaking her butt to demonstrate. Once she started, it seemed like she wouldn't stop.
In unrelated news, I finally re-watched Strange World. It's about as subtle as a sledge hammer, but I still like it. It's so creative, and I'm a sucker for the whole analogy it represents.