Perhaps most suburb-dwelling Americans will be able to root for the adorably animated animals without seeing themselves in the role of the bad guys. They will think it is the residents of that “other” suburban neighborhood who have displaced nimals, corrupted them with nacho flavored chips, and set up barbaric traps for them just to maintain their pristine yards. I must admit, my guilt weighs heavily on me for more profound reasons than these. I don’t feel very bad about the loss of habitat for the film’s wise turtles, lonely raccoons, hyperactive squirrels, and over-acting possums. I do, however, feel guilty for using up so many resources, for leaving less behind me for subsequent generations of humans (especially for those on other continents). I am worried about a loss of biodiversity and about global warming—ills to which those suburban homes so far from work and food contribute.

In addition to enjoying the antics of the funny animals, little ones will be able to follow the instructive storyline about the raccoon addicted to junk food. Not only his taste buds have been corrupted; he also exhibits the very human characteristics of greed and selfishness, traits he eventually overcomes to be in relationship with others. This movie is a parable that will be welcomed in homes where parents are trying to raise children who value people above things.

Older viewers will enjoy the homage to past movies and cartoons. The “Verminator” hired to rid the neighborhood of the wild creatures is reminiscent of the pest-control employee played by John Goodman in Arachnophobia (1990). The possum’s drawn-out death scene employs many famous dying lines including “rosebud!”, and the skunk pays tribute to Pepe LePew in a mild seduction scene involving the household cat.

What is it about life in the burbs that invites such satire? I believe it must be, in part, the relative newness and cookie-cutter architectural sameness that can make it feel inauthentic. I think that the separation of work and home makes a suburb feel deserted in the daytime, devoid of life and culture. The absence of shops, restaurants, parks and businesses in the neighborhood give the residents no easy public space in which to mingle and develop a sense of community. The distances between the living units provide privacy, but the downside of privacy can be isolation. The responsibility of maintaining a beautiful lawn can take time away from other activities that could be more nourishing to the soul. The homogeneous ethnic makeup of most suburbs prevents people from learning from others different from themselves.

Human nature being what it is, I seriously doubt that people living in the suburbs are on average morally inferior to than those living in urban or rural settings (do I sound defensive here?) I do think that we all need to carefully examine our lifestyles to make ourselves less of a burden on the biosphere. We need to think about what kind of car we drive, how often and how far. If the family budget would permit it, I would enjoy buying a hybrid car. I try to buy locally produced eatables when possible to minimize the fuel used in getting food to me, but this often costs more as well. I would love to build solar panels on my suburban house and go off grid as much as possible. Again, cost is an issue.

As followers of Christ, we have lagged behind in advocating sustainable lifestyles. We should be leaders in renewing and reclaiming ruined streams, neighborhoods, and lives. For some of us, that will mean relocating our homes from the suburbs to blighted inner city neighborhoods, as advocated by the Christian Community Development Association. Others may find inspiration in new city planning trends such as New Urbanism, which seeks to reintegrate businesses with homes on small scales in walkable neighborhoods, or in trends toward smaller homes with more creative uses of space. For others of us, it will involve making a series of smaller changes in our suburban lives that add up to a healthier world for both us and our woodland friends.