Nosirreee, Vikings take no guff. Unless, of course, it comes in the form of … dragons.

Alack, the village of Berk has a dragon problem. Every now and then, a flock of them descends from the sky to snatch a nervous sheep or two or 20. It’s a ba-a-a-a-d situation, particularly for the sheep, and the Vikings—as guff resistant as they are—can’t quite figure out how to make the dragons go away. Even the great Viking leader, Stoick the Vast, seems at a loss to shoo away these pesky fire-breathers and save their jittery sheep. Every now and then, he gathers his bravest warriors and plows through Scandinavia’s coldish waters in search of the dragons’ home nest (or hive or condo or whatever) in the hopes of giving some guff of his own. The only things he returns with are more holes in his boats.

Of course the only thing Vikings like less than guff is quitting. So they wage their eternal war on the dragons with gusto. That’s bad news for Stoick’s gangly, grace-averse son, Hiccup. The lad’s sure that if he managed to off a dragon he’d get a girlfriend, make his father proud and maybe not feel quite so geeky. But, as everyone in the village reminds him, Hiccup’s about as capable of killing a dragon as that “Pants on the Ground” guy was of winning American Idol.

“You are many things, Hiccup,” his father tells him. “But a dragon killer is not one of them.”

That doesn’t stop Hiccup from trying. So during one particularly frenetic dragon attack, Hiccup fires off a homemade snaring weapon and seems to hit a Night Fury—the most mysterious, elusive dragon of all. The next morning he goes into the forest to see if his “catch” is still there, and sure enough, it is—its limbs tangled and tied and, for the moment, incapable of showering guff on anyone.

Hiccup takes his knife out of his belt, walks toward the terrible beast and prepares to deliver the death blow. He raises his hand, and—

Well, whatever happens next, you know what doesn’t. I mean, the title of the film isn’t How to Kill Your Dragon, is it?

Source: http://www.pluggedin.com/videos/2010/q4/howtotrainyourdragon.aspx

Well, they don’t really hate her, but to her it sure feels that way sometimes.

It all sorta comes down to Ramona’s tendency to color life outside the lines. At least, that’s what her mom says. Sure, her accident-prone antics can get a little messy at times. But they’re fun. And, for that matter, why should she be penalized because she has a creative vocabulary … and kind of makes up words as she goes? Hey! It’s not her fault she can get distracted by an overactive imagination. Let’s face it, imagining yourself parachuting through fluffy white clouds can turn jumping into a dirt pile into the best day ever!

Ramona understands why her family can get a little irritated with her. Especially since her dad just lost his job and everybody’s a little worried about money right now. But she’s not trying to cause problems. In fact, Ramona is determined to use all of her imaginative skills to help out. She’ll be on her best behavior and come up with some way to earn millions—you just wait and see.

If her ideas fall apart—as usual—well, she’ll just have to try again. Of course, sometimes things get so bad that a girl just can’t help screwing up her face and spitting out the worst word she can think of … guts!

http://www.pluggedin.com/videos/2010/q4/ramonaandbeezus.aspx

Never mind that this is an animated “kids’ movie.” This is the philosophical stuff of Pixar’s Up.

For you see, Carl Fredricksen had just such a dream. He and his beloved wife, Ellie, planned one day to visit Paradise Falls, a mysterious locale in South America filled with cliffs and waterfalls and adventure. When they were children, Carl promised they would go there, cementing the deal with a somber crosscut motion over his heart. Throughout their marriage, the promise of Paradise danced in front of them.

But life kept intruding. They’d raid their Paradise Falls fund for flat tires, for home repairs, for all manner of everyday hiccups. Their hair turned gray, then white, and when Carl finally bought their tickets to Paradise, Ellie was too sick to go. Then … she was gone, leaving Carl with a houseful of memories, a heart full of grief and two plane tickets he’ll never use.

But a promise is a promise, and Carl had crossed his heart. So he loads his house with helium balloons and rips its thousands of pounds of wood and metal and carpet right off its foundation, floating out of the city and into adventure. He has just one destination in mind—Paradise Falls, and he’ll slice through the air until he reaches its hallowed—

Knock, knock.

Until he reaches its hallowed—

Knock, knock, knock.

Carl walks to the door and finds a boy named Russell, a Wilderness Scout with a sash full of merit badges and a brain full of chatter, cowering on his swaying porch.

“Hello, Mr. Fredricksen,” the boy says, clinging to the siding for dear life. “Please let me in.”

“No,” Carl says. And he slams the door.

But then he opens it again.

So begins a new sort of dream for Carl, though he doesn’t know it yet. He still thinks he’s saving his snowman—his dream, his promise, his adventure, his treasure. But what he’s about to find out is that while there’s no denying that snowmen are cool and all, what’s really important is underneath—the lush circle of spring grass left behind. Green. Growing. Living.

http://www.pluggedin.com/videos/2009/q4/up.aspx