Maybe I’m entering a second childhood, but I really enjoyed Tangled.  Now now, those of you who voted for a review of Black Swan are still in luck; going to that tonight.  Nothing like an intense and probably very frightening drama on a cold snowy night.

Back to Tangled.  As I waddled home in the snow, double guessing every step and tiptoeing as if on bound feet, I thought about how I could explain liking Tangled so much.  I will say going to a Disney movie is like allowing yourself to become hypnotized–it won’t work unless you allow it to work.

And Tangled does work.  It’s not trying to be Pixar, it’s being Disney.  Finally.  I’m glad to forget about Chicken Little, Brother Bear, and Meet the Robinsons, sad movies trying to be something other than what they are.  These movies had no spark, no tears, no relatability.  Blech.

Perhaps now that Michael Eisner is out and John Lasseter is in, Disney is back to recognizing itself.  They say to make art, you need a sensibility.  You need to know what you want.  Or you’re confusing.  The movie-going public does not care to be confused.

Tangled is well paced, extremely watchable, and modern in that it shows extreme mood swings, repressed and unrepressed guilt, and passive aggressive machinations.  None of those would have flown in Beauty and the Beast.

And it is showing in 3D, if that’s your thing, fanboy.

If you will be around any small children, or people who act like small children, put a trip to the theater on your list.