No matter how frequently it happens, I’m always a bit surprised to see the critical thrashing taken by some of my favorite childhood movies. As a kid, my friends and I were convinced movies like Dunston Checks In was among the cinematic creme de la creme. A quick trip to aggregate ratings site Rottens Tomatoes reveals a different picture entirely; among the most positive comments is one claiming the film’s only redeeming quality is that it may possibly keep your children quiet and complacent for ninety minutes. Ouch.
As a general rule, puppets and animals are usually fail-safe stock characters with which to cast your children’s film. Not only do they come significantly cheaper than big name stars, their novelty casts a sort of unbreakable spell over impressionable children. While their accompanying adults may have been beating themselves over their heads with their own shoes to get through an hour and a half of monkey debauchery, children were gleefully taken in by the cuteness of cinema critters.
Dunston Checks In follows the adorable animal character formula pretty closely, though it does offer the semi-subverted trope twist of putting the animal protagonist on the side of the bad guys. Dunston is a cute orangutan, sure, but he ultimately is an accessory in the heist of some major jewels. I’m not sure what sort of criminal charges could be pressed against a monkey, but Dunston makes a good case for convicting simians.
Truthfully, the movie could be titled “random orangutan antics haphazardly arranged around a flimsy plot.” Dunston Checks In seems determined to insert its title monkey character into as many zany situations as possible, with little attention paid to common sense or anything related to real life situations. Of course, this is a children’s movie we’re talking about here, so that set up is not necessarily a bad thing. In many ways, this simplified plot model mash-up of Dunston’s gags and practical jokes is far more adept at holding children’s attention than a sensible linear plot could ever be. Dunston Checks In focuses on upscale hotel owner Robert Grant (Jason Alexander), a widower with two young sons. Though the hotel is already rated at five stars, Grant finds out a six-star rating may soon be available. Determined to achieve the higher status, he sets out to vie for this new level of luxury validation. In a classic case of 90s comedy misunderstanding, mysterious guest Lord Rutledge (Rupert Everett) is mistaken for the hotel inspector. Grant and Co. see Rutledge’s careful inspection of the hotel interior and assume him to be the incognito inspector, though in reality he is surveying the scene for a heist. I smell the onset of some hilarious hijinks.
Rutledge, for no better reason than to set up the shaky plot of a children’s movie, has an orangutan in tow who assists in carrying out his thievery missions. Dunston’s owner is less than hospitable to his monkey companion, leading the orangutan to flee to the hotel ducts and end up in the company of Grant’s sons Kyle and Brian. In turn, the boys try their best to convince the hotel staff about the ape on the premises, but Dunston’s impressive stealth makes him nearly invisible to the other hotel occupants. As you can imagine, hilarity ensues--at least from a child’s perspective. An additional antagonist is stirred into the pot when Grant hires an exterminator (Paul Reubens) to take care of the hotel’s monkey problem. The film offers us a slew of further humorous misunderstandings, ultimately culminating in some family-friendly semi-schmaltzy but generally sweet sentimentality. Dunston Checks In isn’t high art by any means, but many children of the 90s will still probably tune in for the nostalgia value when the movie is on TV. Like most family comedies, the humor serves to delight the easily amused children while hopefully not offending any of the parents in attendance. Even as an adult, though, there’s something sort of charming about a major animal character--no matter what he does, it’s sort of cute and funny. The story would never have made it past script screeners if Dunston was a person, but as an orangutan he’s got just about enough cuteness capital to win us over.
We’ve spent a lot of time here at Children of the 90s talking about the many, many ways the adults in our lives tricked us into learning things by slipping educational elements into seemingly recreational endeavors. What we’ve glossed over, however, are the many toys our parents and teachers provided for us with the express purpose of education. These toys didn’t dance around their true nature with all sorts of flashy distractions; instead, they made playtime suspiciously similar to school time. Kind of a bummer.
Though our initial instinct for free time was probably not to play with these teaching toys, for some reason or other many of us ended up spending countless hours with them. Whether through parental persuasion or limited classroom free play choices, we often willingly picked up a Speak & Spell or a See n’ Say and engaged in its attempts at educational endeavors. These toys may not have held their own against the mindless allure of a Skip-It or Super Soaker, but for the most part they still hold that endearing nostalgic appeal. Speak & SpellIt’s amazing how quickly technology novelty can depreciate. Once upon a time, a talking electronic seemed incredibly high-tech for a children’s toy. Granted, the novelty was probably subdued a bit by the toy’s strictly educational premise, but there was something distinctly charming about that robotic voice emanating from the Speak & Spell. Speak & Spell (and its multi-subject counterparts Speak & Read and Speak & Math) were the ultimate device for tricking kids into learning academic material during their leisure time. Cleverly disguised as games like hangman and memory, Speak & Spell bore into our heads valuable lessons about prefixes and suffixes, homophones, and word patterns. It was all just about as exciting as the machine’s monotonous voice. 2-XL The original 2-XL debuted in the late 70s--around the same time as the Speak & Spell prototype. Most children of the 90s probably better remember the 1992 reintroduction released by Tiger Electronics that replaced the original’s 8-tracks with cassette tapes. The interactive buttons we used to answer 2-XL trivia questions seem primitive in comparison to today’s highly complex children’s electronics, but we were all still easily amused enough at the time to be won over by the idea that we had our very own robot. Teddy Ruxpin Teddy Ruxpin was either very novel or very creepy, depending on your tolerance for animatronics. On one hand, his moving mouth and eyes made the stories he read via audiocassette come alive. On the other, the audiocassettes made him come alive, which for many children bordered on a traumatic experience. For all of us who harbored fears of our toys coming to life (a la Chucky, not Toy Story) Teddy Ruxpin was the stuff of nightmares. Talk n’Play
For weeks I have been trying to remember what this device was called; a quick survey of my friends’ childhood memories led me to believe I had possibly made it up and it did not actually exist. Lo and behold, though, through the handy power of Google, its realness has been affirmed. Please tell me some of you owned this device, because I’d hate to be the only one reminiscing about its awesomeness. The Talk n’ Play came with a variety of books, mostly featuring characters from Sesame Street and Alvin and the Chipmunks. It’s humorous now to realize I was once so wowed by a contraption that allowed me to electronically choose my own adventure with the press of a button--essentially the most basic function of every computer game. Nonetheless, this device once entertained me endlessly; I’m convinced if my Talk n’ Play were reunited, my delight in its reactivity to my responses would be just as exciting. I do think, though, that I would still feel guilty about defying Grover’s moratorium against pressing the red button in the book, “Don’t Push the Red Button.” Alphie Playskool’s Alphie was about as simple as a robot toy could get. It had relatively few electronic functions; most of the learning action relied on interchangeable cardboard cards you inserted into his display window. The Alphie toy was an educational staple in 80s preschools, entertaining toddlers with its low-level interactivity and hard-to-break durability. Playskool still makes the Alphie robot, but its space-age exterior and digital display bears little resemblance to the Alphie of our day. See n’ Say I know this came out in the 60s, but they were such a common presence in 80s and 90s homes and classrooms that I couldn’t leave the See n’ Say off the list. Without their handy pull string apparatuses, we may never have found out exactly what the cow or sheep say. For the record, it’s moo and baah. Thanks, See n’ Say! K’nex At first glance, these building blocks may not seem especially educational. However, if any of us made even the vaguest attempt to replicate the awesome full-functioning K’nex machinery from the commercials, we quickly found ourselves in the midst of a learning experience. The ads made it look so easy: just follow the instructions and you will soon be the proud owner/operator of a spinning ferris wheel or speedy go-kart. In reality, though, these designs were incredibly difficult to duplicate, particularly without the aid of constant adult intervention.
Brain Quest Though it’s probably incorrect to classify these trivia booklets as toys, their arguably superior educational value in comparison to the other playthings on this list earns them a verified spot. While many of these other toys made some halfhearted attempt to hide their educational elements under a veneer of fun and games, Brain Quest made no efforts to depict its purpose as anything less than a useful learning tool, even including grade level classifications against which we could measure our intelligence. These classifications were useful and ego-boosting when we managed to answer a question from the 6th grade set as a mere 4th grader, but not quite as self esteem-building when you failed to deliver a basic 1st grade fact. Note: If you’re looking for educational computer games, have no fear: I haven’t blatantly omitted them. There’s an entire post devoted to singing their praises. Check it out.
If you’re in the market for some new potentially embarrassing musical material to get you through a mind-numbingly dull road trip or your daily shower singing session, look no further than the 90s’ collection of powerful Disney ballads. These songs are just begging to be sung by warblingly off-key amateurs; sure, Disney ballads are impressive in their original form performed by respected industry favorites, but they’re that much more fun when butchered by passionate novices.At least that’s how I see it. My former roommates who had to endure those strained high notes emanating from our shared bathroom’s shower--well, they may not feel quite the same way. Sorry, guys.
So next time you’re looking to belt one out, consider partaking in one of these delightfully cheesy Disney power ballads from the 90s. It certainly won’t earn you any street credibility at the local karaoke bar, but it will leave you with a satisfying blend of nostalgia and sore vocal chords. If you’re ready to make that sort of sacrifice in the name of musical animated classics, here are Children of the 90s’ recommendations for either most inspiring or most painful--depending on your level of vocal expertise. Oh, and wherever available I stuck in some videos with lyrics to facilitate your sing-alongs. You’re welcome.
Whole New World (Aladdin)
What would Aladdin and Jasmine’s magic carpet ride be without this catchy duet? It really makes the moment. I do sort of like that the Wikipedia entry on the song includes its translated titles in the foreign dubbed versions. For example, the mainland China version is called, “Meet by Chance.” In France it’s “This Blue Dream.” It doesn’t have quite the same ring to my American ears. “This Bluuuuuuue Dreeeeeeeam....” Hmm. Not working for me.
Part of Your World (The Little Mermaid)
I will admit, when I look at that stuff, I do find it to be awfully neat. In fact, the collection seems to be just about complete. It just screams, “Think that Ariel is a girl who has everything!” But then I must fight my instincts and realize that the human artifacts in Ariel’s undersea cave can never equal the glory of having human legs. She may rock the shell bra, but that’s not enough to get her out there walking on one of those--what do you call it? Streeeeets.
Beauty and the Beast (Beauty and the Beast)
There’s something uniquely charming about a ballad crooned by a kindly matronly teapot. It’s just that much better when you find out that teapot is actually Angela Lansbury of Murder, She Wrote; she’s got serious cross-generational appeal. Grandparents, rejoice!
Reflection (Mulan)
You know you’re looking at a serious Disney ballad when the single version is performed by Christina Aguilera--she can really belt it out. “Reflection” has just the right balance of heartfelt emotion and grrrrl power. It’s like watching the Spice Girls rescue a puppy. Kind of. Okay, not really. You come up with a good comparison, then. Really, give it your best shot. Tough, huh?
You’ll Be In My Heart (Tarzan)
Just in case you ever wondered what it would sound like if the mastermind behind “Sussudio” recorded a heartwarming Disney ballad, here’s your opportunity to find out. Phil Collins’ “You’ll Be in My Heart” charted well on the Billboard Top 100, rising to the 21st spot--not bad for a Disney song.
Colors of the Wind (Pocahontas)
Speaking of decently-charting Disney songs, Vanessa Williams’ end-credits version of this Pocahontas ballad peaked at #4 on the US charts. It’s undeniably cheesy, but at least it has an underlying message. Well, it does if you ignore the fact that Disney completely ignored all actual historical and/or cultural elements of the real Pocahontas story in their retelling. It’s a message, sure, but probably not a historically accurate one. Oh well--at least it’s catchy.
Can You Feel the Love Tonight? (The Lion King)
Well? Can you? The falling-in-love-with-an-old-platonic-friend-in-a-matter-of-minutes montage certainly helps move things along at a steady pace. With the aid of these handy visual, you will indeed feel the love. Tonight.
Runner Up: Circle of Life. Only you can memorize the words in the intro, though. Otherwise, it’s just not worth it.
Go The Distance (Hercules)
I’m not ashamed to tell you I kind of like the Michael Bolton version that plays out the credits. Well, not that ashamed. Perhaps I should be more ashamed to admit I have the Spanish version--performed by Ricky Martin, no less--on my iPod.
God Help the Outcasts (The Hunchback of Notre Dame)
I felt compelled to include a song from all of the Disney musical animated films of the decade, but truthfully this one doesn’t pack quite the same punch as some of the others. Sorry, Esmeralda--you’re just not doing it for me here. There’s cheesy and then there’s over-the-top milking for emotional responses. Add in the Bette Midler version and it’s just too much to bear.
