The Looney Tunes connection
If your kid has been raised on the hyper-kinetic energy of modern animation—think Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse or The Mitchells vs. the Machines—they might find most live-action movies from the 1980s agonizingly slow. This movie is the exception. It functions on pure cartoon logic. The camera doesn't just sit there; it sprints, dives, and zooms through floorboards and windows. It’s a masterclass in visual storytelling that feels remarkably modern despite its age.
We often talk about "slapstick" as a cheap way to get a laugh, but here it’s elevated to an art form. The famous convenience store chase is a perfect example. It involves a pack of dogs, a pair of pantyhose, and a series of increasingly absurd escalations that will keep even the most screen-saturated teenager locked in. It’s chaotic, but it’s intentional chaos.
A different kind of 80s movie
Most 80s comedies rely on a specific brand of cynicism or "cool guy" energy. This film goes the opposite direction. The characters are deeply uncool, desperate, and weirdly poetic. They speak in a stylized, formal way that sounds like a Southern storybook. It’s a great pick for kids who are starting to appreciate the craft of a movie rather than just the plot.
Critics have kept this at a 91% on Rotten Tomatoes for decades because it manages to be two things at once: a ridiculous heist movie and a genuine story about wanting to belong. It doesn't feel like a "dated" comedy because the humor comes from the characters' hyper-specific world rather than 1987 pop culture references. You won't have to explain any "you had to be there" jokes to your teenager.
Navigating the "Baby Snatching" of it all
The central premise is a kidnapping, which sounds dark on paper. However, the film treats the baby as a sort of holy object rather than a victim. The friction for parents usually isn't the crime itself—which is clearly framed as a blunder—but the intensity of the "Lone Biker of the Apocalypse."
This character is a genuine nightmare-fuel figure who represents the protagonist's inner demons. He’s loud, he’s violent, and he’s visually imposing. If you have a younger teen who is sensitive to "unstoppable monster" tropes, this is the one part of the movie that might actually rattle them. The violence is stylized and "bloodless" in a PG-13 way, but the vibe is heavy.
How to use it well
If your kid is a fan of quirky, high-energy directors or weird internet humor, use this as a "foundational text." It’s the bridge between old-school Hollywood and the manic, stylized stuff they see now. It’s also a great way to talk about perspective. The movie asks us to root for a couple who did something objectively terrible. Watching how the filmmakers pull that off—making us love a pair of well-meaning criminals—is a great way to level up a kid's media literacy without making it feel like a homework assignment.
