Smurf me hard

I just got home from seeing The Smurf Movie with my boys. Last day of our mini-summer-vacation so I was running out of activities to do with them. I am not used to being a full time mom. I love spending time with them, I love that we have had some sort of adventure every day this week; but seriously, I am exhausted. A movie was needed. Popcorn is always needed. If you remember from a few blogs ago, I believe that popcorn is a vegetable.

Anyway, so The Smurf Movie. It got me thinking. No, it didn’t make me wonder why in god’s name must we revisit and recycle stupid ideas from the 1980’s that were annoying the first time around. No, not how the creators of The Smurfs had to be as high as Sid and Marty Croft when they decided there should be little blue creatures who lived in mushrooms and were chased by an evil cat (who totally reminded me of Henry). And not even why I just spent $30 on tickets and popcorn on a stupid Smurf movie just to make my damn kids happy.

I was wondering, however, who came up with the brilliant and ridiculously sexist idea to put one blonde female Smurf with ninety male Smurfs who were all named for their personalities.

First of all, the whole idea that one is named for one’s personality seems like it would limit a person, or, rather Smurf. Take Grouchy Smurf. What if he went to therapy and started taking Zoloft? Or what if started taking yoga, could he then become Zen Smurf? Could he then change his name to The Smurf formerly known as Grouchy? Wouldn’t it make him grouchier to know that he would always be called Grouchy Smurf even if he was in a good mood? Man, I can only imagine my Smurf name. Drama Smurf? Or perhaps Sugar Smurf. Nah, that sounds like a Smurf stripper. Maybe just Emotionally-co-dependent-cranky-when-provoked-due-to-perimenapausal-hormones Smurf.

Now, as the wonderfully intellectual script of The Smurf Movie taught us, (don’t worry, not really a spoiler here) Smurfette was created by Gargamel to tempt the ninety other Smurfs that don’t actually appear to even be anatomically correct. Their little white feetie-pajamas seem a bit tight and you should be able to see, um…never mind.

Anyway, so Papa Smurf took Smurfette in and kind of made her his daughter which seems a little odd to me. I mean yeah, it was a nice thing to do to take this young girl out of the evil castle of Gargamel and teach her to be a nice Smurf. Kind of like Richard Gere did with Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. But this cartoon was created in the early 1980’s where women wearing power suits and becoming working mothers were all the rage. The book Our Bodies Ourselves was in its fourth edition. Woman Studies majors were becoming a staple at most universities. However, ninety little blue guys and one hot blonde in heels? Seriously? It didn’t fit the times. Plus, wouldn’t it possibly put Smurfette in a precarious predicament being the only babe around? Seems like she could end up in a whole mess of trouble. Of course, we do learn in the film that she can kick some serious Smurf-ass so apparently Papa Smurf taught her to defend herself in case one of the Smurfs, I’m assuming like Hefty Smurf or Gutsy Smurf got a smurf-on.

Apparently, I am ready to go back to teaching the figurative language and symbolism of literature because I just analyzed the feminist essential questions of The Smurf Movie.

Yeah…I know…I am smurfin’ ludicrous sometimes.