I was about to turn 20 years old. It was 1994 and my grandparents would be celebrating their golden wedding anniversary on my birthday. Flying to Orange, California, to visit them for a week would be a momentous occasion. Afterall, I was leaving my teens and they were entering their retirement.
Could Blockbuster be the Antichrist?
The only thing missing is some awkwardly timed anime-style guffaws. I for one was grateful for the omission.
Why Disney couldn’t retell the story of Pocahontas with as much respect for history as DreamWorks did with Moses is completely beyond me.
Where Antzand A Bug’s Lifediffer is in semantics: thinking for yourself, or thinking of yourself.