‘Where’s Waldo’ Is Being Made into a Movie

WaldoIn the past ten minutes, I have learned two very bizarre pieces of news. The first: there is a live action Where’s Waldo movie in the works. The film has been dubbed a “family adventure,” and will likely take the iconic character from the game book series by Martin Hanford, and place him in a variety of challenging, exotic and fantastical locations on a quest to find his way home. Or, feasibly, there’ll be a Saving Private Ryan mission involving a group of individuals seeking the elusive Waldo, bent on getting him back in time for a special Christmastime Comic-Con for a bout of candy cane cosplay.

The second, and far more brain-melting, piece of news is that from 1991-’92, CBS Kids ran a Where’s Waldo cartoon series. Now, this was unsettling to me for a number of reasons. For one: there was a 1990s cartoon series that I have never heard of (I have staked my reputation on being a master of all things animated post-Berlin Wall). Naturally, I immediately braved the minefields of YouTube to find some hard evidence of this cartoon. What I found was a series that involved a Rodney Dangerfield-inspired wizard and a theme song reminiscent of Allen Ginsberg’s beat poetry.

The real question now: who will—rather, who can—play the notorious Waldo in this upcoming film? Waldo represents the everyman: an individual who, although often ensconced by societies and ideologies with far greater fervor and vividity than he, remains a glimmering speckle of humanity. When we seek Waldo, we seek ourselves. We long to be sought. We figure, “If Waldo can stand out among all of these battling gnomes, perhaps I might stand out among my shattered generation.” So who can represent such a powerful notion? I have an idea.

Enjoy (or whatever) the Where’s Waldo theme song below.


Source: Variety

Staff editor Michael Arbeiter’s natural state of being can best be described as “mild panic attack.” His earliest memories of growing up in Queens, New York, involve nighttime conversations with a voice from his bedroom wall (the jury’s still out on what that was all about) and a love for classic television that spawned from the very first time he was allowed to watch “The Munsters.” Attending college at SUNY Binghamton, a 20-year-old Michael learned two things: that he could center his future on this love for TV and movies, and that dragons never actually existed — he was kind of late in the game on that one.