Dan:  Today I took Jester to see "Stuart Little."  
     Jester:  And today I let him take me because I thought he said we were going to see "Stew Art - Little."  
     Dan:  I had a good time.  The kids there were well-behaved, the popcorn and candy strewn all over the floor hadn't yet gone stale, and, as an added bonus, I found nothing to object to up on the screen.  
     Jester:  And I would have had much more fun had I stayed at home and slept on the dishes in the drainer as I just love to do when I have the house to myself.
     Dan:  The movie was about a lovable orphaned mouse's attempt to find and keep a loving family in an often hostile world.  I really liked the fact that it was able to tell its story without guns, disco, hypodermic injections, or scenes of adulterated beef being barfed up by already uncharismatic elderly folk, and I liked it even more halfway through when I realized it was not a sequel to Al Franken's 1995 film, "Stuart Saves His Family."
     Jester:  I thought the movie was about a moveable feast with too big a mouth and not enough dark meat.  While the flick started off fairly promisingly with only the tail of the title character projecting from a obviously deserving feline mouth, it soon degenerated into an absurd farce of everything cat.  We are expected to believe that mice are cuter, smarter, and more deserving of full family membership rights than animals that actually have fanciers and shows coast to coast and aren't commonly fed to snakes and falcons without a second thought.  This despite the fact that it was mice and their close relatives the rats which spread the Black Death which killed so many human types and cats which saved their sorry butts.  While every minor discomfort of the mouse in this picture gets close-up attention from the producers, we are merely told that the main feline must sleep on a few old rags tossed into a cold, cold corner.  While the mouse is shown winning sailboat races and driving sporty cars, the unsuspecting children of the world are led to believe that not even 6 street-smart felines can catch and eat one small rodent that repeatedly turns up right under their very noses.  The distortions and injustices just go on and on and would have proven utterly intolerable, I'm sure, if I hadn't fallen asleep ten minutes into this monstrosity or rediscovered the deeply satisfying pleasures of clawing a fine upholstered seat to pieces during the louder sequences which woke me up.  Four paws down - way down - for this escapee from a litterbox.  Or, as I quoted the best feline player as I walked out the second the end credits began to roll, "Tell it to the butt." 
     Dan:  I thought the mouse was cute even though he did seem to be trying just a wee bit too hard to sound like Michael J. Fox.
     Jester:  Come on - he was as cute as an autopsy photo of Redd Foxx and the only thing that could have changed that would have been a full bottle of A-1 Sauce and a couple strategically placed sprigs of parsley.
     Dan:  Damn, Jester - put that photo away already!
     Jester:  Hey, if Roger Ebert learned how to incorporate a few visual aids like this into his reviews, everyone would be able to tell how he felt about a flick with a single quick glance and we could all get to the bowl of cream before it turned, if ya know what I mean.
     Dan:  No.  And to answer your inane criticisms one by one 

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