The SFX budget alone probably could have fed a few small countries. But like the director said, it's impossible not to be a hypocrite anymore.
I don't know how many times the main music riff repeated itself, perhaps a dozen or more times. This film felt like a broken record and will be relegated to the compost bin of documentaries due to its hilarious premise that if we just eat more seaweed and take subways, we'll be fine.
The narrator must love the oxford comma, because he only speaks in threes. Something, something else, and then something finally. It's as if he can't make a point without talking in threes.
The one and only sole saving grace is the population problem, which the film glosses over. According to the film, women worldwide have around 5 children each. FIVE. If we were to stop that, we'd be OK. And they're completely correct. Population control is the ONLY way to really save us.
A fun game to play with this film is how many times they say "environment" or "resources" I stopped counting around 50. It's the same message pounded into your head over and over. We get it!
The nearly 10 minutes of credits shows the sheer volume and expense of making what is without question the slickest documentary ever produced. If Marvel made a documentary, it'd be this. The visuals were at times so corny and contrived they completely made you miss the message because you were so distracted as to how they did it.
Sure, the film is supposed to be a letter to his daughter, and aside from the unwatchably awful and inappropriate husband/wife sexual innuendos, I hope the kid "Velvet" sees it as a young woman of 16 or more and realizes she has to rise to heights far higher than this in order to make a dent in the world.
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