Do they actually think people believe them when they trot out bullshit excuses to cover up blatant marketing ploys?
As if John Lasseter has anything else that is more important in his life than making a great Cars release, if that's what he wanted to actually do.
This movie is more indulgent than Passion of the Christ.
It's a love letter from Lasseter to a time long ago, through the shared American cultural experience of the love of cars.
As if Ratatouille is even a blip on his radar comparatively. He's not even the director - Brad Bird is.