Tony Earnshaw: First taste of movie magic is soured by a touch of evil

Thus it was that last weekend we stood in line for tickets to our first cinema outing as proud dad and excitable daughter. Alas, the re-release of Pixar's Toy Story 2 had been and gone and so I plumped for Disney's The Princess & the Frog, another U certificate movie and one that Abigail would evidently enjoy. After all, one animated adventure is very much like another.

There was the obligatory trip to the counter for fizzy pop, sweeties and popcorn, and then it was time to take our seats. Abigail, three-and-a-half and a proper little madam, led the way. She clambered into her seat and began a non-stop barrage of questions until the film's credits burst onto the screen.

Then there was silence save for munching and slurping. For a whole 30 minutes. I watched her as she watched the film.

It was every parent's delight: you've found something innocent and pleasant that keeps your child entertained.

I swear that at one point she even shushed me when I asked if she was enjoying herself.

I sat back and smiled, safe in the knowledge that our visit to the movies had been a magnificent success.

And then it happened. On to the screen bounded a character that was part Mr Bojangles, part Baron Samedi. Given that the film is set in America's voodoo capital of New Orleans, I might have suspected something of the film's content.

But how can one predict a scriptwriter's vision? As the top-hatted dude smiled, slunk and slid across the screen seeking to corrupt the film's hero, Abigail's look of wide-eyed wonderment never changed. I watched her intently as she gazed at the ever-so-slightly sinister Bojangles. Suddenly, a skull appeared on screen and she moved to my side.

"Daddy, I want to go now. I don't like the scary man," she said in a very calm voice. I told her to close her eyes, promising that the two young female friends at the heart of the story would soon return.

But she was having none of it. Bojangles and his sleek, slinky dance routine – not forgetting the skull – had put the kibosh on our afternoon. There was nothing for it but to scoop her up, grab the nosh and wander out to the car where, within seconds, all was well.

Children know what they want and what they like. And as adults we try to second-guess their preferences. How was I to know The Princess & the Frog would have an undercurrent of voodoo? Abigail didn't know what it was about but she recognised a villain when she saw one.

In the car, she said she had liked the film but not the scary man.

"Daddy, next week can we watch Toy Story?" she said brightly. I nodded and said I'd try to find it.

I suppose the trick is in giving them what they want, not an approximation of it for the sake of ticking a mental box. But who on earth thinks voodoo is acceptable for children?

Next time I'll definitely opt for Pixar over Disney.