A reformed rat-killer in a disco suit kisses a rat. Beverly D'Angelo dresses in a multitude of gaudy clothes. There's repeat stock footage of a street cleaner. The marionette puppetry is putrid. A random hip-hop version of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" plays over the credits for God knows why. And it's all to make the ridiculous argument that we should leave rats alone and let them run wild in the streets. But don't be fooled; none of that insanity translates to entertainment.
Review of A Rat's Tale
