The Croods: Family Tree

So you wanna go with Eep to a slime cave?

‐ Yeah. It's supposed to be slimy and wet and stinky.

I can't wait!

‐ Dawn, you're not a cave girl.

We're evolved.

And we don't visit slime caves or talk with our mouths full.

And we don't reach for food when we're eating a meal

like human beings!

Phil!

‐ Crowverine?

Ha!

Try no‐verine.

Not today, wolfspider.

I don't have as many eyes as you, but I have‐‐

Sandy!

Thanks, Sandy.

Oh. Hope.

You're lucky.

For a second, I thought you were a bearacuda.

‐ Do I look like a bearacuda?

‐ How was the crowverine that time? Fast enough for you?

‐ Perfect, Guy.

You've really outdone yourself with this invention.

Hey, Hope, you wanna try Guy's new survival course?

‐ I can set it to easy mode since it's your first time.

‐ No.

I wanna talk to Ugga about Sandy.

She and that, whatever Douglas is,

were running wild and ruined breakfast.

And my flowers.

‐ Oh. Then I'll just‐‐

Sorry about the flowers.

But she wasn't running wild.

She was practicing her survival skills with Douglas.

You never know when a wild animal might attack.

Um‐‐

‐ Right.

But she doesn't have to worry about animal attacks anymore.

Because she lives here, on the farm.

So it might be time for her to start evolving?

‐ Oh, yeah, I'm definitely gonna, um‐‐

‐ Are you telling me how to raise my kid?

‐ Oh, no.

‐ What?

No. I would never.

But, if you'd like, I can give Sandy some tips.

Look how I've helped Dawn evolve.

Dawn, you'll get a peel cut.

‐ Seriously, Mom?

‐ You know the banana rules.

You're right. My banana bad.

‐ Smaller bites.

And chew and chew and chew and swallow.

‐ Mom!

‐ Dawn, there's banana in your mouth.

Banana bad.

Now go take a post‐banana shower and put on a clean robe.

See? Evolved.

And, with my help, Sandy can be too.

Think about it.

‐ Why didn't I leave so much earlier?

‐ Guy? Could I have a word?

‐ Yes! Yes! All the words. All of them.

‐ Guy, today is your lucky day.

I'm going to invent a revolutionary innovation,

dining without reaching.

Because Hope told me to.

And I need your help.

‐ So, you saw my survival course.

Pretty great, huh?

‐ I'm sure your rudimentary tinkering

was received with great wonderment by the Croods.

But I am a Betterman.

And this is civilization, Guy,

not the primordial ooze.

‐ I've got it! What if you just‐‐

Shh!

No time for your amateur pondering.

‐ Then what do you need me for?

‐ I need a test subject and your head will fit the helmet.

Can you make your head smaller?

Let's go, Dawn.

Before the slime in the slime cave gets too slimy.

‐ Hey, Eep!

‐ You're being eaten by a moss monster!

‐ It's not a moss monster.

It's my Progress Pod.

My mom gave it to me when I was little

to help me "evolve and realize my full human potential."

Her words, not mine.

It protects me from everything by stopping me from doing anything.

‐ Oh. My mom gave me that ax.

‐ But now I just like hanging out in here.

It is so soft.

‐ Did you seriously not feel the ax?

I threw it really hard.

‐ Nope.

Mom was also worried about me getting dirty and hurty,

so it's extra sturdy.

Again, her words.

‐ Do you feel... this?

‐ Nothing.

‐ Wanna see what else you can't feel?

‐ Ooh, I sure do.

‐ Then let's tuck and roll, baby.

‐ Breathe in the light,

breathe out the light.

Breathe in the light‐‐

Ugh. Why does the light smell like a dead crowverine?

Sorry, Sandy, you just startled me.

Are you looking for your Mom?

‐ Nuh‐uh.

‐ Food?

‐ Nuh‐uh.

‐ Do you wanna know what I'm doing?

It's called yoga.

It's great for relieving tension and calming your mind.

And not scratching.

It's something you do when you're evolved.

Would you like to evolve?

‐ Oh. Huh.

‐ Wonderful!

And when we're done, you'll be a whole new girl.

Ugh!

Ugh.

Mostly.

Mm‐mmm.

‐ Huh? ‐ Mm‐hmm.

‐ Ooh.

Huh? ‐ Mm‐hmm.

‐ Huh?

‐ Mm‐hmm.

Mm‐hmm.

Oh

‐ Ready to realize your potential with a little chicken seal bowling?

‐ I've never been more ready.

How many do you think we can get? Half of 'em?

‐ Oh, no. You have more potential than that.

‐ You sound like my mom.

But you're right.

It's all or nothing.

Now let's bowl!

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

‐ Cock‐a‐doodle‐down.

‐ Hey, Hope. I felt bad about the flowers so I got you some more.

‐ Great. You can put them next to Sandy.

Doesn't she look amazing?

And just wait till you see her use a fork.

So evolved.

‐ I can't believe you did this.

‐ You don't have to thank me. Mothering is my pleasure.

‐ Wait, so, first my kids need to evolve and now I'm a bad mom?

‐ Your words, not mine.

‐ Hmm. Will you excuse me?

Ha!

I'm sorry. You were saying?

‐ Uh... is something wrong?

‐ Oh, you tell me.

You took my daughter and turned her into some kind of mini you.

‐ She came to me for help.

‐ She doesn't need help. And she doesn't need to evolve.

She's been surviving in the wild since birth.

This isn't the wild.

This is a farm.

‐ Do me a favor.

Instead of trying to fix my children, fix your own.

‐ How could I fix Dawn? She's perfect.

‐ Is she?

What happens when you're not there to peel her banana?

Or chew her banana?

Or deal with non‐banana problems?

Sandy, we're leaving. Lose the dress.

‐ But you didn't see her use a fork.

You can see it later.

‐ So, about my idea to stop people from reaching across the table,

I actually drew a sketch of it and‐‐

‐ Irrelevant. Because I have forged a solution.

Reach for the bowl.

‐ Holy‐‐

Wha‐‐

Wh‐‐

Why‐‐ Was that a misfire?

‐ No. But, upon review,

perhaps a slightly less severe approach is in order.

‐ Call me... a bad... mother.

I'd like to see Hope mother three kids in the wild.

You know, there's no peel cuts

and chew‐chew‐chew and flowers in your hair.

It's eat or be eaten.

And don't even get me started on volcanoes.

Don't worry, Sandy.

I won't let Hope try to turn you into something that you're not.

Ugh. Or am I holding on to the past?

Maybe survival isn't all that matters anymore.

Whoa!

Ah. ‐ Ah.

‐ Or maybe I need to teach Hope a little something about survival.

‐ Ah.

‐ Hey, Hope.

Stay back!