I just got done reading the NY Times review of the movie I saw last night. He didn’t like it. I did.

My son and I were at the fan event at our local theater (along with one couple dressed to perfection as Mary and Bert and one woman who was Mary out by herself which I loved even more). The theater was full and I was expecting greatness.

As the lights went down and that iconic music began, I have to admit to feeling like a 3 year old. No, not a 3 year old. Like the mom of a 3 year old introducing her child to something magical for the firs time. Which is actually better.

The film itself was good. Was it as good as the original? No. That’s actually not humanly possible but it’s really not fair to even ask it to be. Emily Blunt and Lin Manuel Miranda were wonderful and the Dick Van Dyke cameo was worth watching the entire film for.

I’ll admit that when Angela Lansbury showed up at the very end (when the story was resolved and it was time to dance out of the room) I was a little confused.

But the number was so joyful and so happy that who cares if its placement seemed odd?

Which brings me to the bottom line, for me, on this film:

For 2 hours I didn’t think about the economy, immigrant children, suffering around the world, school shootings or a government shutdown. I only enjoyed music and the company of my fellow humans, obviously mostly my son but the others as well.

And that’s what movies are supposed to do. So, sorry movie reviewer from the NY Times, I don’t agree with you one bit. In fact, I think you might need to see it again with a different perspective and a little more joy. Can you imagine that?