The Amazing
Spider-Man.

I, Simba, thought The Amazing Spider-Man was really good. I enjoyed the action. I enjoyed the emotional scenes. I left feeling that I, too, could become a hero. My only notable complaint is that the movie has very little respect for a viewer's need to nap.

A two-nap problem

I took two naps during this film. Ordinarily, this is a manageable amount of sleeping. Sometimes we can take three naps and still follow the plot. We wake up, locate the important people, and carry on. It is a perfectly reasonable way to enjoy cinema.

This time, I woke up with questions. Where had the lizard come from? When had there become so much action? I had closed my eyes for some necessary rest, and the movie had made several major decisions without me.

I do not object to an exciting plot. I would simply appreciate the opportunity to be present when it becomes exciting. A brief recap for returning cats would have helped.

“Sometimes I can take three naps and still follow the plot. This movie defeated me in two.”

A lizard is not an animated rat

This movie was much scarier than Ratatouille. An animated rat is one thing. A lizard of this seriousness is another. I had to hold Mama's hand while I napped, because even a sleeping critic needs to know that someone is handling the lizard situation.

I liked the action when I was awake to appreciate it. I liked the emotional scenes, too. I felt brave and moved and occasionally quite small. Holding Mama's hand allowed me to experience all of these feelings from a secure location.

Tiger left the screening

Tiger was not locked in for this movie. I distinctly remember him going to the other room to nap. This is different from my approach, which was to remain with the film and participate whenever conscious.

He may have found it a bit scary. I cannot prove this, and he has not supplied a formal statement. I can only report that the lizard remained in one room and Tiger chose another.

I could be a hero

The best thing about the movie is how it made me feel afterward. The action was exciting, but the emotional scenes gave the heroism a purpose. I wanted to be brave. I wanted to help. I wanted to be the cat who arrives when somebody needs him.

I also came away with considerable hope for cross-species genetics. In my imagined future, I retain my excellent whiskers and gain some heroic abilities. I already climb things. I already investigate suspicious noises. With a few additional powers, I believe I could be very useful to the neighborhood.

There are several possible directions for this career. A spider-inspired suit would be impressive. A lizard costume might help me understand the opposition. And a police uniform would let everyone know I was taking public service seriously. I am keeping my options open.

My kitten-viewing policy

I do not think this is a kitten-appropriate film. Under my own household movie rules, I recommend waiting until your kitten is at least one year old before introducing something this scary. There will be plenty of time for large lizards later.

For the older cats, I recommend a comfortable seat, access to Mama, and careful nap planning. If a lizard appears and you do not know why, you may have slept through something important. I speak from experience.