Movie review: Madagascar (2005)

I’ll be honest. I saw it for the penguins.

I saw snippets of the animals at the Central Park Zoo on TV a few years back. I remembered the penguins…and the King of the Lemurs. (Who can forget the King of the Lemurs and his neurotic need to be the center of attention?)

I wanted to see the Penguins of Madagascar but thought, no, no, I’ll start with the beginning—the first Madagascar movie—and work my way forward. (The penguins had their own break out movie spin-off after the third Madagascar movie.)

Madagascar was entertaining enough. I liked Chris Rock’s personality in the zebra. I enjoyed the King of the Lemur with his catchy song and dance. I looked forward to the penguins gracing the screen. (If you are a regular reader of my blog, you are aware of my predilection for penguins over the last year and a half.)

I wanted more unexpected subtle moments, like when one of the penguins was nonchalantly holding a tube of 50 SPF sunscreen under his arm and sporadically rubbing his belly with sunscreen. Or when the penguins broke into the control room of the cargo ship, sliding on their bellies up to the sole person there.

In the end, I realized that I have to watch the next film in the series, if only to see the penguins again and answer the burning question that I was left with: How did the King of the Lemurs end up at the Central Park Zoo?

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