How would you keep penguins? Put ‘em in the back yard? Let ‘em fight it out with the neighborhood cats, dogs and raccoons? Build an ice rink? A terrarium? They aren’t really meant to exist anywhere but where they do. If you think about it, they’re some of the oddest creatures on the planet – outside their element, penguins are incapable of flight, reasonable foot speed or camouflage and easily overcome by small child or large rat. They even lack basic “fight or flight” instinct, approaching almost any situation with waddling. And yet, they live outdoors in the coldest place on earth, are impressive hunters in the sea and clearly, they are survivors.
So let’s put ‘em in a Manhattan high-rise, shall we? Can penguins survive Jim Carrey? It’s a shame we couldn’t combine Mr. Popper’s Penguins with Tower Heist, you could have a film where Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade penguins rob Bernie Madoff. Wow, that sounds awful. Forget I said it.
Mr. Popper’s Penguins is your standard penguin-out-of-water idiot plot: an estranged father makes a dying wish to connect with his son and does so by sending him penguins. In two shifts, no less. Jim Carrey is Mr. Popper, the son now grown-up powerful businessman who has suddenly inherited penguins. He doesn’t want them; he doesn’t need them; he doesn’t know how to get rid of them. They’re kinda like a mobile STD. Naturally, this is a critical period for Popper’s future employment; random unforeseen penguin acquisition never happens when you’re on sabbatical.
Then, of course, idiot plotpoint #2 comes along – the local zookeeper (Clark Gregg), our villain (?!). Why villain? Because he wants to take the penguins away and put them in a place where they can be cared for properly by professionals. What kind of sick madman is this guy? Anyway, the zookeeper discovers room in his agenda to deal in penguin and moves to collect the birds.
Idiot plotpoint #3: Mr. Popper, who by now has turned his high priced Manhattan condo into Winter Wonderland (um, what happens when it’s summer in the Big City, Mr. P?) has bonded with the animals and doesn’t want to let them go. Thus, the zookeeper starts employing underhanded means to acquire the birds.
*slaps forehead*
I mean, what would you do about this? Suppose one day, some set of things showed up at your door. Call them “widgets,” for the sake of argument. The widgets are annoying and high-maintenance. You don’t like them; they hinder your lifestyle, usurp your freedom and prevent you from doing your job properly. You spend what little time you have trying to get rid of the widgets, or barring that, teaching them to dance like Vanilla Ice. And the minute somebody claims them, a professional widget deployment official, no less, it’s suddenly, “Mine! Mine! Mine! You can’t have them.” I sense Stockholm Syndrome.
Surprised I gave this film any kind of positive review? I am, too. Maybe I’m channeling fond memories of a day when I found Jim Carrey much funnier than I do now. Or maybe, just maybe, this is one of those films you stop questioning and find enjoyable for the moments of a man and his penguins. They are cute. I’ll give ‘em that.
Rated PG, 94 Minutes
D: Mark Waters
W: Sean Anders, John Morris and Jared Stern
Genre: Home zoo
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: “Mom, can we see March of the Penguins again?”
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Condominium tenant rule sticklers
