Movie cereals are like grizzly bears. And Post’s new Trolls Rainbow Crunch cereal is living proof.

No, I don’t that movie cereals taste like salmon and ruin your campsite. Rather, they just like to hibernate—for very long periods of time. See, back in cereal’s Golden Age, movie cereals had heart: fortified heart. From double-crunching C-3PO’s to Reese’s Pieces-flavored E.T. cereal, these cinematic cereals were as innovative as they were memorably tasty.

But then the breakfast film industry must have crashed, or at least fell asleep. Because for what felt like decades, every movie cereal was basic and bland. Most were either cheap Lucky Charms knock-offs or some generically fruity or chocolaty puffed shape. No franchise was safe, from Shrek and Shrek 2 to Shrek and seriously why the heck were there so many Shrek cereals? 

But very recently, matinee meals have been stirring from their slumber, returning once more to the creative concepts of their more marquee-worthy years. Minions Banana Berry cereal was a crunchy smoothie. Disney Princess cereal is rethinking the tired oats ‘n’ ‘mallows gambit. Batman and Superman fought with volleys of caramel-iciousness and fondued berries.

And now? Trolls Rainbow Crunch Cereal—based on a 2017 DreamWorks movie based on a bug-eyed, soft-serve-haired fad toy from the 1960s—is bringing peace to the world of fruity cereals.

What turmoil, you may ask? Well gather ’round and let me spin you a yarn. And after you put on your cozy yarn sweater, let me tell you a story. Not long ago, The Great Sugary Fruit Cereal Triangle was intact. Fruity Pebbles brought crispness, Froot Loops brought a sturdily soft crunch, and Trix brought a more loudly aerated pop. (Cap’n Crunch’s Crunch Berries watched from the “nearly a fruit cereal” sidelines.) But then everything changed when Trix decided to renounce its sweetened, artificial fruit heritage and become a purely citrusy and very real fruit breakfast.

Suddenly, fruit fanatics had no choice if they wanted something ambiguously fruity and aggressively crunchy in the morning. I mean, what were they supposed to do? Eat an apple?

But now, thanks to a clan of bulb-nosed, mythical cave-dwellers with exceptional pompadours, that triangular yin-yang-yum is whole once more. Trolls Rainbow Crunch stays true to its name, with each of its fat, five-pointed pieces loudly crunching like a Tupperware under Uncle Rico’s van.

As if the star pieces’ mighty munch wasn’t good enough, they taste great, too. They’re like a perfect blend of Fruity Pebbles and Trix (fruit-shaped Trix, specifically, since the ridged Rainbow Crunch stars have a fun mouthfeel that spheres simply can’t bring). Rainbow Crunch tastes like a pleasantly puréed parade of its ancestor cereals’ greatest fruit hits: lemon, lime, raspberry, a dash of watermelon, and whatever wildberry—that lovable blue wild card—is supposed to taste like. This was a super nostalgic cereal for me to taste especially, because Rainbow Crunch’s tropical punch end notes reminded me of Neopets Islandberry Crunch: a cereal that longtime readers and psychologists alike know I miss very dearly.

And I’m not the only one who got sent over the nostalgic rainbow by Rainbow Crunch’s flavor. Former Cereal Time documentarian Gabe Fonseca claims this cereal tastes exactly like 1985’s long-gone, yet cult favorite Rainbow Brite Cereal. So if you want to celebrate the legacy of two 20th century dolls in one bowl, Rainbow Crunch is definitely for you.

Oh, and did I mention that it tastes great in milk, too? And that I’ve used far more than my daily recommended number of rhetorical questions? Yes, Trolls Rainbow Crunch soaks up just enough milk into its star-crossed pores and holes to make it taste like mixed berries ‘n’ cream, while still retaining enough floured integrity to avoid Fruity Pebbles’ fatal flaw: soggy mushiness.

If this heroic fruit warrior has an Achilles heel of its own, its the sheer flavor potency that makes it so great. To molars above the age of ten, Rainbow Crunch can quickly become too sweet, as the bright, borderline ultraviolet stars shoot swirling hues of dye into the endmilk below them. Likewise, there is a nearly floral aftertaste to these well-sugared stars that may put off most people who don’t dream of sipping fruit-spiked half-and-half out of Willy Wonka’s crunchy flower teacup.

I won’t let that gripe take the color out of my Trolls Cereal experience, though. No, even its sweet weakness (sweakness?) can be spun into a positive: this is a cereal that makes you feel like a kid again. I’ll probably never see Trolls, but I could easily see my younger self eating Rainbow Crunch in the morning and lying to his friends at lunchtime that “Trolls are for babies” to save face—what few scraps of it he had left.

Young Dan would also probably pour Skittles on this cereal and yell “taste the rainbow!” just quietly enough to avoid parental scrutiny, so it’s probably best we stop talking about him.

The Bowl: Post Trolls Rainbow Crunch Cereal

The Breakdown: 50% Fruity Pebbles, 50% Trix, and 100% crunch, baby: Rainbow Crunch harkens back to movie cereals’ brighter days (literally), though the near-cloying sweetness may tickle tongues and taste of tulips.

The Bottom Line: 8.5 Charlie Kelly berries out of 10