FURRY VENGEANCE is flick that is mostly wholesome and very good-natured, no pun intended. There is a positive message about the environment, and animals that are just as engaging as they need to be. The effects when CGI is called for, will suffice for the toddler crowd. It is not, however, repeat NOT, for anyone whose age is approaching double-digits. Then again, it doesnt try to be. Everything from the storyline, the humor, the pacing, the acting, and the message delivery system is suitably broad. Very broad. Hemisphere broad. Hemisphere on Jupiter broad.
Kiddies will delight in the way that woodland creatures, led by a wickedly clever raccoon, fight to defend their homes from developer Dan Sanders (Brendan Fraser, who is also one of the executive producers). Armed with derring-do, an ability to coordinate with one another using clicks, whistles and such (there are pictoral thought balloons for the humans in the audience), and the higher cognitive functions that allow for elaborate offensive devices to augment their nature-given poo and, in the case of the skunks, pee yew, they mount a personal war against Dan that no one else can see. Concerned wife (Brooke Shields) sends him to therapy. Annoyed and embarrassed son (Matt Prokop) rolls his eyes. Corporate honcho (Ken Jeong) ponders firing him, and local corporate security guy (Toby Huss) is convinced he is the target of his wifes murder plot. That is never explained, but Huss, wafting welcome bits of his King of the Hill character of Dale Gribble into the film is a welcome addition.
Everything unfolds as it should, with Dan blind to what his supposedly eco-friendly company is doing to the woodlands, battling with a determined futility against the local fauna, and eventually seeing the light.
There are a few troubling stereotypes to deal with that give one pause. Still, its worth noting that this is a film that doesnt set gross-out as the default laugh-generating mechanism. Fraser delivers the proper goof-ball vibe to make the action less than cringe-worthy, even if a scene relegating him to a pink sweatsuit several sizes too small gets old very, very quickly.
With their wondrously articulated hands and opposable thumbs, not to mention penchant for being able to outwit any garbage-can lock set against them, its not too much to suspend disbelief for a raccoon revolution. Kudos for that. For attempting a flick that is more than the cinematic equivalent of junk food, more kudos. For not throwing enough in there to help the adult supervision to get through it unscathed, a big raspberry.
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