Despite it’s best efforts, despite taking out the female rabbit introduced in this series and bringing in James Corden, this year’s film version of Peter Rabbit, unwatchable shite that it was, couldn’t hold a candle to the sheer bloody dreadfulness of this tv version. Sometimes you have to give credit where it is due: Nobody will ever make a version of Peter Rabbit as bad as this one.
It is just so unlikable. Incredibly so. James Corden’s version of Peter is a wanker but at least he owns his shit. At least he knows he’s a wanker. The tv version is so sure that he is the coolest guy in the room that it’s sickening, and the fact that the narrative reinforces that notion is flabbergasting, and profoundly misguided, as he is clearly the rabbit equivalent to those wankers you find in beer gardens in the summer, convinced they are god’s gift to all mankind, oblivious to the fact they are just cocky twazmuppets.
And this is the crux of my objection to Peter Rabbit: it promotes the idea that braggadocio is something to be celebrated. Peter has never, in all the episodes I have seen, been asked to wind it fucking in, for five minutes, Jesus.
Pride is supposed to come before a fall. Pride is not supposed to come before that run rabbit run/run like you’ve never run before song. But every week we get pride, then the shit song, then more pride. Pride, pride, pride. Cocky, I-can-drive-after-four-pints no problem, my karaoke song is Mustang Sally, three-inch wang swinging pride.
Do we want another generation of men that think the world revolves around them? No. No we don’t. So bring on the fall. Bring on Peter Rabbit’s comeuppance. Give Mr McGregor his day in the sun. Sometimes you need to be cruel to be kind. What is one rabbit’s life compared to the mental wellbeing of a generation?