![]() Even that shameful performance is far, far better than Gilbert Gottfried, who is just insufferable as a human chicken. Lloyd is better than the frantically mugging Wallace Shawn, who plays multiple roles, all of them dreadful. Jack himself is the kind of precocious brat who needs a good whack upside the head, but he's nothing compared to poor Christopher Lloyd, who is forced to explain every joke very slowly, over and over, as though he's speaking to an audience that's suffering from major brain damage. It's not even the hideous, explosion-in-a-cuteness-factory design of the sets. It's not the clichéd plot that kills this movie. But in order to do so, he has to go on a quest and learn about things like Sacrifice and Perseverance and I'm sorry I just can't go on. ![]() It goes like this: Jack lives in fairyland, where everything is a fairy story, and he wants to be a hero. You know how your granny complains that they never make nice films any more, that the whole family can sit down and watch? This was clearly designed by your granny, as something nice and old fashioned the trouble is, I think the old bird's getting a bit senile.
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