I wish I could have enjoyed The Mitchells vs. the Machines. It spoke directly to me in so many ways, mirroring little pieces of my own life and family.
But by midway through, I could barely stand seeing the dad onscreen. He treated Katie with such utter disregard and disrespect.
The dad had sixteen years to connect with his daughter, but he waited until the very last day to break her computer, sell her plane ticket, and change her plans without telling her.
He held her freedom hostage to her ability to make him feel valued.
Katie had almost no choice but to get in that car with her dad.
And when the end of the movie came: she was right there in the car with him, under his power once again.
It made me feel so trapped.
I loved all the quirks in the Mitchell family — my family also does weird baking, has obsessive interests, jokes about moose and pretends to be dinosaurs. I loved Katie, and I wanted to see her movie. But no, her dad kept eclipsing her, taking up her screen time.
Consistently, women were expected to do the work of managing the men’s emotions — Katie and her mom managed the dad, but even with the little kids, the neighbor girl was expected to be more emotionally mature than the similar-aged, similarly-dinosaur obsessed Aaron.
This is not worse than other animated kid movies. In fact, The Mitchells vs. the Machines is better than most, because it did center Katie.
But… look… I just can’t quite like a movie where a dad breaks his daughter’s computer the day before she leaves for college. I can’t.