163_Movie_ReviewDirected by Ron Underwood
Churchill Films, 1986
41 minutes NR

by Tammy Wanchena

I have literally checked the mouse trap in our pantry nineteen times in the past seven hours thanks to this month’s movie pick, “The Mouse and the Motorcycle.” PETA be damned, I want all mice to die.

This month’s movie starts with tons of bickering and car troubles that lead to a stay at the Mountain View Inn for Keith and his parents. My Favorite Martian, Ray Walston, gets them settled into their rooms and Keith sets his toy motorcycle out on the bedside table. When Keith heads out to play tennis with his dad, a mouse leaves the safety of his hole to check out the sweet wheels; a plastic mish-mash of Japanese and British bike elements. The mouse looks as if it just crawled out of the sewer and has a voice that could only have come from sucking obscene amounts of helium.

When Keith returns from his tennis outing he finds both the mouse and his motorcycle have fallen into the trash can. Imagine his surprise when he discovers the mouse can talk! Not only can he talk, but he can ride a motorcycle. All you have to do to get the motor to work is make engine noises with your mouth. I am confident this will improve my own riding and plan to put it to the test as soon as I can.

Tensions mount when the maid enters the room and almost vacuums up the mouse and the motorcycle. They wind up getting grabbed up in the dirty linens. The mouse gets free, but has to break the news to Keith about his motorcycle. But Keith has bigger problems when he gets very ill. We’re convinced he became infected with Hanta virus.

I will watch this again in spite of my hatred of rodents. Not Keith’s sudden brush with death nor the fact that my husband was horrified by how creepy the stop action mice were is not what will have me watching this movie. I will with the nieces and nephews because thank god it’s only forty-one minutes long and there were zero musical numbers! But, if you want to avoid the nightmares and the obsession with checking the trap, have the kids read the Beverly Cleary book instead.

MMM

 

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