I would still love to take a trip to Spooky Island, even if I might not indulge in the bleached tips nearly every extra seems to be sporting in this movie. Pitch-perfect casting (especially, and uncontroversially, Matthew Lilliard as Shaggy) and Scrappy-Doo as the villain? This movie had it all.

That movie imprinted on me in a way very few have it captured the tone and the joyful sense of investigation and curiosity that made the series and these characters so addictive to me. I played the games, I watched the show, and, when the movie came around, my dad and I were there on opening night (well, matinee – I was seven, after all) to see it.Īnd I loved it. I was raised in a pro-Scooby, anti-Scrappy-Doo household, and it’s a fundamental part of my moral grounding. My dad, a huge fan of the original series, had passed down his adoration of the Scooby-Doo stories to me – that mix of supernatural and scepticism, janitors under sheets and haunted fairgrounds, I was instantly hooked. In 2002, I was seven years old, and all I wanted to talk about was the Scooby-Doo movie.