Open Letter to Dreamworks from Scrat
Please stop making the Ice Age movies. Though I may only be a tiny, saber-tooth squirrel, I beg you, hear my squeaky voice. I am tired. I am broken. I miss my family. Please, don’t do this to me again.
I write this letter at a critical time in the franchise’s history. The fifth movie, Ice Age: Collision Course is set to open this month. It will introduce a host of colorful new characters, while revisiting some franchise favorites. Sid, Diego, and Manny will go on their biggest adventure yet. Please let it be their last.
I haven’t seen my wife, Scratte, since 2002. That’s fourteen years, goddamnit. Do you have any idea what the life expectancy of a saber-tooth squirrel is? Three sons have grown up and left the home without the wisdom of a strong male role-model. I send a check after each of our movies wraps production, but what kind of money can replace a father? Sure, they have all the acorns they could ever want, but at what cost? I’m pleading with you, do not make more of these films. I want to participate in my children’s lives. I want to know my grandchildren.
Box-office predictions Ice Age: Collision Course are overwhelmingly positive. It could be the top-grossing film in the franchise. The word on the street is that you’ve already begun pre-production on a seventh movie, Ice Age: It’s 1986 Now. Although these movies have done a perfect job of subverting the law of diminishing returns, I beg you to look past the profits.
Look at Manny, the beloved mammoth. Look how matted his fur has become. Look how unkempt, how disheveled he looks. Your corporate greed has bled the life out of this tusked, charming hero. And we’re all privy to the loophole that allows computer-generated wildlife to work past union-regulated hours. But come on. That mammoth needs a break. Sid the sloth has been talking his ear off for several geological periods. Most find Sid annoying in two-hour blocks. Imagine putting up with him for the entirety of the Pleistocene epoch.
If you do keep making these movies, please exclude me from any further entries. I want nothing more than to not be in another Ice Age movie. Yes, my extreme preoccupation with gathering and storing acorns is a ripe source for comedy. It is oftentimes cathartic to laugh at the pathos of others, regardless of their species. But how many times can you milk this dead horse? You’ve simply got to know when to fold ’em, Dreamworks. Let the series carry on without me. Maybe find an obsessive compulsive dodo. Get a paranoid weasel to take my place. Just please, let the rest of my short life in peace.
I pray you’ll take my words to heart,
Yours, hopefully never again,