I have such great affection for the work of the late, great Dr. Seuss, that I not only jumped at the chance to review the new 3D-CGI animated film version of his classic children's book The Lorax (opening tomorrow), I even wrote my review in Seussian anapestic tetrameter rhyming verse.

The movie itself is okay. It's bright and beautiful, and young kids will enjoy it. It lacks the carefully crafted screenplay of even your run-of-the-mill Pixar movie, but as family films go, it's better than most.

The fact is, it's hard to stretch a Dr. Seuss book into an hour and 45 minute movie, which I'm guessing is why Dr. Seuss never consented to it when alive. And you know what else I'm pretty damn sure he never would have consented to? Whoring his tale of environmental woe and consumerism run amok, to sell a fucking car.

No doubt the widow Geisel has made big bucks off a string of Dr. Seuss films that she knew couldn't come close to doing justice to the original books. This is America. I guess I can't blame her for making money. But it's an insult to her husband's legacy to have the Lorax of all characters, hawking automobiles.