Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Build a Furry Friend With Build-a-Bear

As you may be able to surmise from my profile picture, I have been a teddy bear enthusiast for as long as I can remember. At one point in my toddlerhood, Teddy Bear Picnic was my favorite song, and I often invited my bears and a handful of other plush pals to join me for cheese puffs and Kool-Aid, artfully presented with the help of my Strawberry Shortcake tea set. In later years, I drooled over Teddy Ruxpin and started what has swelled into an impressive Winnie-the-Pooh collection. So when Build-a-Bear Workshop opened up at my mall last week, I was excited.

I'd first heard of the store several years ago when one friend described a bear he'd received as a gift and another showed off the one she and her boyfriend had made. Two years ago, I went to the Boyds Bear store, located in a massive barn outside Gettysburg, PA, and on one of the floors I caught my first glimpse of the fabled Build-a-Bear. I got my second in Buffalo last year, but on neither occasion was I inclined to open my wallet on such an extravagance. But I went for the grand opening here in Erie, waiting with my two friends, one of whom had already built a dog at another location and hoped to dress him up in nerdy duds this time around. We watched a group of first- and second-graders stuff bears for charity and assist with the ribbon-cutting, and then we went into the store, clutching the free gift books we received as some of Build-a-Bear's first patrons.

The store was smaller than I expected and a bit hard to navigate on such a busy day, though generally I don't imagine it will be quite so congested. Half a dozen incredibly perky employees greeted us and tried to convince us that we needed this, that or the other thing. When my friend tried a Superman suit on his dog, an employee tried to convince him to buy the matching pajamas, while two employees attempted to convince me that my creation's outfit would not be complete without underwear; that's getting just a little bit too detailed, if you ask me, especially for an extra $3.50. However, for an extra $5, I did consent to them putting in a plastic heart that simulates a heartbeat, and I had to go through a small ceremony as the heart was placed inside, the last step in the stuffing process.

Although the shop is called Build-a-Bear, there are all sorts of different animals to choose from, sad, floppy forms just itching to be stuffed with fluff and taken home. In honor of my obsession with the song I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas, and because I don't have a stuffed hippo although I've always loved the animals, I selected a fuzzy, pale purple hippopotamus with light blue spots. I took my hippo to the stuffing station, where I stood on a pedal while a woman sitting by a contraption reminding me of a cotton candy machine pumped fluff into her. Then it was off to the primping station, which seemed rather pointless but allowed me to put my hippo under a hair dryer, evidently to make sure she left at her floofiest.

Next, I had to select an outfit. Well, no one was forcing me, but I thought I might as well complete the process, even though it did set me back another $12. I purchased an elegant, deep purple witch's outfit that complemented my hippo's fur perfectly and sat down at the custom computers for the last step, which was to create a birth certificate. I named my hippo Minerva in honor of Professor McGonagall of Harry Potter fame; though she favors green, I think the purple dress robes would look smashing on her. Then it was time for check-out, and they boxed Minerva up in a handy crate. I also signed up for their club, which awards points for every purchase and sends out ten-dollar gift certificates for every hundred dollars spent. Add the fifty bonus points I received for signing up, and I'm nearly eligible already, though I still have to go online and apply the points since the computer was down at the time.

I was right to feel some trepidation along with my excitement when I heard Build-a-Bear was coming. The store is a money trap, with limitless opportunities to shell out hard-earned cash and overenthusiastic employees all too eager to help you do that. My hippo cost $18, which is about the middle of the range; my friend's dog cost $12, and I noticed a leopard that cost $25. Among the outfits, my witch ensemble was fairly average; though most individual articles were more in the $6-8 range, complete outfits were generally at least $12. Along with the underwear, I could have chosen to purchase shoes and any number of accessories, including a voice chip that would allow my hippo to make a sound when hugged. There were a couple dozen different stuffed animals to choose from and dozens of different outfits and various add-ons. It all adds up pretty quickly, so exercise self-control. We talked to a woman who has purchased 120 Build-a-Bear creations, both in person an online; the available animals change periodically, so the avid collector can be easily tempted. I don't intend to start an extensive collection. But I'm happy with my hippo, and I know there are an awful lot of kids in Erie who are going to get a big kick out of building stuffed pals of their own.

Thimbleberry Stories is a Drowsy Delight

This year, I have become a big fan of Cynthia Rylant. I've gotten a kick out of the daily adventures of young Henry and his big dog Mudge, been warmed by the tender tales of elderly Mr. Putter and his creaky cat Tabby, giggled at the antics of portly Poppleton the pig and his furry friends. But I never encountered the charming chipmunk Nigel until my friend Beth pointed me in his direction. Thimbleberry Stories is a collection of four tales about this agreeable rodent and his friends, who live in a very English-looking countryside brought to life through the illustrations of Maggie Kneen. A few small details, like the fact that all the species represented in the book are native to America but not all are found in England, make me think that Nigel and his friends are actually living in America, but the overall feel is very British and reminiscent of The Wind in the Willows, Winnie-the-Pooh and other such dreamy anthropomorphic animal stories.

In Nigel Meets Dipper, the chipmunk takes a break from gardening to get to know his new neighbor, a hummingbird. Dipper is a friendly fellow, but he experiences the world very differently than Nigel, being so much smaller and speedier. His unusual perspective does not prevent him from experiencing life deeply, however, as he demonstrates to his new friend when he shows him the landscapes he has been painting. I love Kneen's soft pictures of the hummingbird and chipmunk homes, daintily settled amongst lush grass and bright flowers. They look like lovely places to live. While each story in the book features Nigel, each of the friends is restricted to one story, aside from passing references, so we don't see Dipper again, but meeting such a cheerful, imaginative creature is a great way to start the book.

Little Owl Redecorates is both silly and sweet. Little Owl is a fastidious bachelor, and his sense of balance is thrown all out of whack when he welcomes a new plant into his home. His attempts to make room for it escalate into the overwhelming undertaking of rearranging all of his furniture. Nigel has a project of his own to work on when Little Owl comes to him for help, but he abandons it in favor of assisting his friend. Nigel's level-headedness is welcome in the midst of his friend's frenzied chaos, and the patient chipmunk is able to hit upon just the right solution to the owl's problem.

Claudius Plants a Garden introduces us to Claudius and Copper, a snake and butterfly who live in the meadow and are the best of friends. One day, Nigel decides to visit them, bringing along a gift of strawberries, which Claudius has never tasted before. He is so taken with the berries that he decides to grow some of his own, and even though Nigel knows that Claudius is a very lethargic creature, not at all inclined to make extra work for himself, he provides him with plants and helps him prepare his garden. But can Claudius keep the garden up when Nigel goes back home?

Mudpuppy's Picnic reminds me very much of The Wind in the Willows and makes me long for an afternoon out in the lagoon with an overflowing picnic basket. Nigel's boating companion is Mudpuppy, a very health-conscious salamander. Because Nigel is such a considerate chipmunk, he never tells Mudpuppy that he does not find his health food tasty. When Mudpuppy invites him on a boat ride culminating in a picnic, he agrees, but secretly wonders what unpleasant food he'll have to force down. Mudpuppy is such a skilled navigator and Nigel such a willing passenger that dread of the impending food is soon forgotten. But what will happen when the time comes to eat?

All four of these stories have a lovely, drowsy feeling to them. They encourage readers to embrace life's simple pleasures and to value their friends and accommodate them despite personal differences. Nigel is slower than Dipper, less fussy than Owl, less lazy than Claudius, less health-conscious than Mudpuppy. Each of his friends has quirks; Nigel has his own. But he always strives to meet his friends halfway, and his friendships flourish as a result of his willingness to put their feelings first. While I am an established Rylant fan, and her prose here is lyrical and engaging, Kneen's illustrations are just as delightful as the text, full of soft color and tiny details. The borders atop the pages that change with the story add an extra nice touch. For a perfectly cozy anytime read, give Thimbleberry Stories a try. It's enchanting.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

You Don't Have to Be a Football Fan to Love Friday Night Lights

Fall is in the air, and football season has begun. While I've always enjoyed autumn, I never gave the pigskin much thought, but I know a lot of my classmates got pretty excited about high school football. Their enthusiasm pales, however, in comparison to that of the townspeople of Dillon, Texas, where the television drama Friday Night Lights takes place. For Dillon residents, supporting the Panthers is a matter of civic pride, since it is the only football team in town. Most businesses shut down on the day of a home game; the stadium is the only place to be.

It is into this community that Eric Taylor (Kyle Chandler) comes as the new head coach of the Panthers. Expectations are high; the team has done very well for itself in the past, and the current starting quarterback, Jason Street (Scott Porter), is one of the most talented athletes recruiters have seen in years. The pressure is intense enough even with this golden boy in the lead, but when a tragic accident puts Jason out of commission, Coach Taylor must scramble to keep the team in the running for the championships, and himself in a job. That means trusting in sweet, shy, stuttering second-stringer Matt Saracen (Zach Gilford), who has his hands full as it is holding down a job and looking after his beloved grandmother (Louanne Stephens), who slips in and out of dementia. Nervous and bumbling at the beginning, Matt gains confidence over the weeks without sacrificing his deeply ingrained sense of integrity.

While the show focuses most prominently on the twin journeys of Matt and his coach as they try to become comfortable in their new roles, we also watch several other characters develop. Initially, Eric's wife, Tami (Connie Britton), struck me as a bit of a bubble-head, but that first impression soon corrected itself. A patient and caring wife and mother with occasional bursts of temper that match her husband's, she finds her place in the town when she takes a job as school counselor and begins advising students, who benefit greatly from her concern. Her new job occasionally causes friction, however, since she sometimes finds herself butting heads with her husband on certain issues, like the school looking the other way when football players cheat on tests. His daughter Julie (Amy Teegarden), meanwhile, is 15 and full of attitude, an intellectual whose determination to have nothing to do with the sport that obsesses her dad falters as Matt gradually works up the nerve to ask her out.

As Jason learns to adjust to life in a wheelchair, his solid relationship with perky cheerleader Lyla Garrity (Minka Kelly) begins to crumble, despite her faithfulness in visiting him daily at the hospital and in rehab. Meanwhile, he wonders bitterly why his best friend, surly Tim Riggins (Taylor Kitsch), hasn't come to visit; when he finally does, their friendship is tested after Jason discovers a shattering secret. Other notable students include bad-girl Tyra Collette (Adrianne Palicki), Tim's on-again, off-again girlfriend; Smash Williams (Gaius Chales), a hot-shot who is probably the most likely remaining member of the team to go pro; and Landry Clarke (Jesse Plemons), Matt's nerdy best friend who dishes out bad dating advice while pining over Tyra. Tim and Tyra remind me a lot of Daniel and Kim from Freaks and Geeks and follow a similar progression, while Matt's struggles to keep his new status as football star from going to his head recall Clark in season four of Smallville.

All of these students have problems, and we often see the parents taking an active role in helping their children through their difficulties. The Taylors present the best example of a mom and dad supporting each other and their child, and indeed they wind up playing parents to dozens of students throughout the year. Eric can holler with the best of them out on the field or in the locker room, but he is fair, and he values respect and hard work. He does sometimes get a little too caught up in his job, however, and that's when it's up to Tami to remind him how important family time is. Apart from the Taylors, my favorite parent is Smash's mother, Corrina (Liz Mikel), a widow and devout church-goer who raises her children with a firm hand tempered with expansive affection.

Lyla's affluent parents strive to keep a stable home for their children, but her father Buddy's (Brad Leland) philandering makes that difficult; Jason's parents are so desperate to provide for Jason in the face of his costly medical bills that they decide to sue Coach Taylor for their son's injury. Tyra's mother (Dana Wheeler-Nicholson) is deeply devoted to her daughter but tragically addicted to men who take advantage of her, and she does nothing to foster Tyra's opportunities to further her education. Tim lives with his brother Billy (Derek Phillips), who generally is a bad influence but at least is there for him, which is more than can be said of his father (Brett Cullen, who's appeared on LOST and Ugly Betty, two of my other favorite shows), who only shows up long enough to remind Tim what a lousy role model he is. Similarly, Matt's dad (Brent Smiga) spends most of the season off-screen, and his arrival from Iraq causes more problems for Matt than it solves, at least initially, but his grandma, even at her least lucid, remains warm and loving.

Each episode juggles all these storylines and characters quite well, aided by a jerky cinematography style that I initially disliked but that grew less distracting for me as the season progressed. There are many scenes in which several of the key characters are scattered across a room or a field, and often the camera will pan away from one conversation to another occurring feet away. This seems to happen especially often in the beginning, when there is a need for us to get to know the different characters as quickly as possible. Later episodes tend to put more focus on characters' individual paths, and there is plenty of room for them to make mistakes and mature; writers Peter Berg and Buzz Bissinger see to it that most characters do plenty of both.

Several of the characters - most prominently Lyla and Smash's family - are vocally Christian, and it seems most of the townsfolk attend church, which is refreshing to see, though it doesn't prevent anyone from getting into sticky situations. More than half a dozen characters are unfaithful to a spouse or significant other over the course of the season, and there are instances of bullying, violence, unethical practices, racism, underage drinking, theft and drug use. Such mis-steps have consequences, however, and most characters are considerably wiser at the end of the season than they were at the beginning.

Friday Night Lights is a slice-of-life show that demonstrates how a town can be both divided and united by a passion for football and how times of change and trauma help to build character. Though the show was snubbed by the Emmys and didn't manage to rein in a large audience, it has another chance to find its footing this fall, and I hope it does because whatever accolades it receives are well-deserved. I probably won't be spending any time at the football stadium this autumn, but I'm all too happy to get into the spirit by watching Friday Night Lights.

Saturday, September 15, 2007

There's a Lion on the Loose in the Library!

The mascot of both my elementary school and college was a lion, and as both a youngster and a studious collegian, I spent a good bit of time in the library. Thus, it wouldn't be a huge stretch to call me a library lion. But I wouldn't be nearly as cuddly and eye-catching as the subject of Michelle Knudsen's Library Lion, recommended to me by fellow library lover Beth.

That lion looks pretty much how you would expect a lion to look, with big paws, a luxurious mane and sharp teeth that gleam when he opens his mouth for a mighty roar. Oh, this lion roars beautifully - loudly enough to startle anyone within a mile of the sedate library he frequents. But it isn't something that happens often because the lion learns on his first trip to the library that it is a quiet place and that such monstrous noises are frowned upon.

It's strange to think of a lion just randomly wandering into a library, and there's no explanation of where he came from. A circus? A zoo? Some guy's apartment? Or did he make the long trip from Africa with nothing but his charm to get him from place to place? We don't really know, but because he is so charming, it's easy to embrace him. He acts very much like a lion - never speaking, wearing clothes or walking on his hind paws, for instance - and even the anthropomorphic aspects of his character, such as his performance of useful tasks for strict but kindly librarian Miss Merriweather, are leonine. He dusts off shelves with his tail; he licks envelopes with his giant tongue; he allows children to ride on his back as they search for books on high shelves.

Though he is the main character, he is only referred to as "the lion". Since he can't speak, there is no one around to indicate what his name is, and I guess none of the library patrons took it upon themselves to assign him a new name. The only named characters are Miss Merriweather, a petite woman with tiny spectacles perched on her nose and her hair pulled up into a bun, and Mr. McBee, who also wears glasses and looks rather nerdy with his assortment of bowties. You might call him Miss Merriweather's deputy, and I like to imagine him with Don Knott's voice, especially as he goes hollering after the librarian to tattle on the lion. Mr. McBee is a long-time employee and a stickler for the rules, so he doesn't particularly approve of the lion's presence; in fact, he's a bit jealous of all the attention the big furry fellow has been getting.

To Mr. McBee's vexation, the lion is perfectly well-behaved following his first instance of rule-breaking, which was quickly forgiven, so he has to keep putting up with this unusual visitor, until one day the lion does break the rules, right in front of Mr. McBee - but for a very good reason. Is it reason enough for him to be allowed back in the library?

The story is well-written and entertaining, but it's the illustrations by Kevin Hawkes that are really attention-grabbing. Done in acrylic and pencil, they have a soft look about them, perfectly evoking the comforting feeling a library should bring. We get a good sense of prim Miss Merriweather, agitated Mr. McBee and the startled, curly-haired story lady through these pictures, but the lion is really the star of the show. We see the lion sniffing the card catalog, the old faithful system I relied upon throughout most of my school years, only to have it discarded in favor of new computer cataloging; rubbing his head contentedly against a bookshelf; flopping down for a nap right in the middle of the story corner with a bean bag for a pillow; hanging his head in shame after he breaks the rules by letting out an enormous roar; holding a basket of storybooks in his mouth; gazing in concern at his beloved librarian when she takes a tumble. He's there on nearly every page, looking incredibly warm and huggable - except in one illustration, in which he looks very cold, very wet and very miserable as he stares through the rain at his reflection in the library door, his mane plastered against his fur.

For lovers of libraries, lions or both, this is a wonderfully cozy book. I wish one of the libraries I visited as a child had been frequented by a lion - but only one as sweet and lovable as the title character in Library Lion!

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Number 1300: The Last Five Years Achingly Chronicles a Love That Doesn't Last

I'm not sure whether it's the fact that he was born on the 13th or his lifelong tendency to gravitate toward the slightly macabre, but my brother Nathan's favorite number is 13. You might say he has triskaidekaphilia. So in honor of him, I thought I would post my 1300th review today, on his birthday. Now, if I were really on the ball, I'd find something 13-ish to write about, but I've already reviewed The End - the 13th volume in Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events - and I'm not touching Freddy Krueger with a ten-foot pole, so instead I'll write about one of his latest obsessions: a musical entitled The Last Five Years.

I'd heard the play's title but knew nothing about it until my family's annual trek to Little Pine Valley for our reunion; while I was lost in thought on the ride down, quivering with anticipation over the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, he sat next to me, grooving to his iPod and occasionally singing along to a bunch of songs I'd never heard before. After he stopped listening, he continued randomly singing snippets. I asked that was on his iPod, and he clued me in. The next day, he handed his iPod off to me and told me to listen to the original cast recording for myself, with him standing by to offer his commentary. I did, and in part due to his enthusiastic exclamations, I was quickly hooked on this story of falling in and out of love written by Jason Robert Brown. The album features Norbert Leo Butz and Sherie Rene Scott as young lovers Jamie Wellerstein and Cathy Hiatt, tracing their romance from start to finish through him and finish to start through her. Thus, the giddiest numbers are immediately tempered with searing disillusionment, and vice versa, which gives it an unusual emotional flavor.

Still Hurting - It begins at the end, with Cathy bemoaning the fact that her marriage to Jamie has dissolved. Scott's voice is clear but vulnerable as she addresses the man who is no longer there. A slow and sad song swelling with pathos, its plaintive tone accentuated by the violins in the background. Jamie arrived at the end of the line. / Jamie's convinced that the problems are mine. / Jamie is probably feeling just fine, / And I'm still hurting.

Shiksa Goddess - This introduction to Jamie is as exuberant as the first track is despairing. Butz sounds a little shaky to me at the beginning, but once he hits the chorus, it's right on target, and this is one of the most entertaining tracks on the album. He sounds like he has an enormous grin on his face as he belts out the lyrics over the jazzy piano. He has just gone out with Cathy for the first time, and he's head over heels and delighting in the fact that his mother would be horrified that she is not Jewish. He's feeling rebellious, eager to cast off his roots, at least for a while, and the lyrics reflect that, with the verses discussing his Jewish identity and the choruses listing the increasingly ridiculous list of traits she could have that would be acceptable to him, as long as she isn't Jewish. If you had a tattoo, that wouldn't matter. / If you had a shaved head, that would be cool. / If you came from Spain or Japan / Or the back of a van, / Just as long as you're not from Hebrew school...

Still Smiling - Much of this one has the same tone as Still Hurting, soft and sad, but with a note of optimism that gradually gives way to fiery anger and ending on a note of emptiness and abandonment. They've been separated awhile, and Jamie has come to visit her for her birthday, but he's scarcely arrived before he takes off again, carrying away with him any real hope of repairing their relationship. And the point is, Jamie, / That you can't spend a single day that's not about / You and you and nothing but you, / "Mahvelous" novelist, you! / Isn't he wonderful, just twenty-eight, The savior of writing!

Moving Too Fast - Now it's back to happy again, with a slightly panicked edge. Jamie's career as a successful novelist has begun, and he's thrilled but a little nervous about it; add his perfect relationship with Cathy, and it all seems a little too good to be true. Another fun song, though I must admit the frustrated novelist in me is a bit jealous as I listen to a 23-year-old character gush about his brilliant career. The song has several distinct melodic sections, with him at one point echoing part of Still Hurting, but my favorite is the one it starts off with. I'm gliding smooth as a figure skater. / I'm riding hot as a rocket blast. / I just expected it ten years later. / I've got a singular impression / Things are moving too fast.

A Part of That - More upbeat that Cathy's first two songs, it has her irritated with the way Jamie's success is going to his head, but that's tempered by the times when he snaps out of it and shows her that he is still very much in love. And then he smiles. / His eyes light up / And how can I complain? / Yes, he's insane / But look what he can do, / And I'm a part of that...

The Schmuel Song - Nathan told me that a lot of his friends dislike this song because it doesn't seem to fit in with the rest very well. It's one of his favorite tracks, however, and I agree with him. A fable about an old tailor who goes after his life-long dream and is rewarded richly, it is Jamie's way of encouraging Cathy to pursue her acting. The verses have a distinctly Russian-Jewish feel to them reminiscent of Fiddler on the Roof, while the peppy chorus reminds me of Rent's Seasons of Love. It's a long song, and it isn't until the very end that he addresses Cathy directly, but when he does, it's one of the most tender moments on the album. And the clock said: / "Na na na na, na na na, / Oh Schmuel, you'll get to be happy! / Na na na na, na na na, / I give you unlimited time!

A Summer in Ohio - In this sprightly song, Cathy is writing a letter to Jamie from Ohio, where she is living in rather unusual circumstances and trying to make it as an actress. She misses him, but generally her tone lacks the bitterness found in her earlier songs, though there is a cutting edge to her wit. I could shove an ice pick in my eye, / I could eat some fish from last July, / But it wouldn't be as awful as a summer in Ohio / Without cable, hot water, Vietnamese food, or you.

The Next Ten Minutes - For the first time, Jamie and Cathy sing a song together, both caught up in the same giddy feeling of young love that has matured to the point of making a lifetime commitment. Because of the structure of the play, it has been a gradual process of the timelines getting closer to one another; by the finale, Jamie and Cathy will be at opposite ends of the relationship again. That makes this mid-point especially poignant; the two sound lovely and sincerely in love, but we know their bliss is fleeting. And if you in turn agree / To the next ten minutes / And the next ten minutes / Till the morning comes, / Then just holding you / Might compel me to / Ask you for more...

A Miracle Would Happen - There's a smattering of profanity sprinkled throughout these songs, but this is the only one that strikes me as borderline crass. Jamie sounds like he's ingested a large dose of caffeine here, nervously yammering on in a falsely cheery voice about how thrilled he is to be married and how he can handle an inconvenient set of temptations. Still, even as he bemoans, in rather vivid terms, the way gorgeous women are flinging themselves at him now that he is married, he vows to remain faithful. And in a perfect world / A miracle would happen / And every girl would look like Mister Ed, / And it'd be me and Cathy / And nothing else would matter, / But it's fine, it's fine, it's fine...

Climbing Uphill - Here we see Cathy giving acting a real shot for the first time, and it isn't going so well. She pours out her frustrations, and we hear her make several attempts at the audition piece we heard her nail as an aside in the previous song. The internal monologue that we get is especially entertaining, if rather rambling. We get a good sense of just how difficult this challenge is for her, trying enough that she probably wouldn't have tried it without Jamie's encouragement. When you come home... / I should have told them I was sick last week. / They're gonna think this is the way I sing. / Why is the pianist playing so loud? / Should I sing louder? / I'll sing louder...

If I Didn't Believe in You - Jamie is trying to convince Cathy that he has been extremely supportive of her all along and that she ought to return the favor. This is the first real sour note on Jamie's end, since his last song just dealt with a challenge inherent to marriage, not necessarily indicating marital problems. His tone is generally tender, but it's obvious his words are having little effect on Cathy, who refuses to go with him to a publication party. This is the beginning of the end. If I didn't believe in you, / We wouldn't be having this fight. / If I didn't believe in you, / I'd walk out the door and say, / "Cathy, you're right."

I Can Do Better Than That - A happy, peppy song that echoes Shiksa Goddess. Cathy is taking Jamie to meet her parents and telling him about all her failed past loves. While Jamie listed all the things she could be, as long as it wasn't Jewish, Cathy lists all the things he needn't be, as long as he loves her. She also reprises part of Still Smiling, but in an opposite context, since at this early stage of the game, she wants as much of Jamie as she can get and hasn't yet decided that he is too absorbed in his career to pay her proper attention. You don't have to get a haircut. / You don't have to change your shoes. / You don't have to like Duran Duran. / Just love me.

Nobody Needs to Know - Jamie is less sympathetic in this song than in his others; after all, he has broken down and decided to cheat on his wife. Still, he doesn't come across as a complete jerk; while his reasons don't excuse unfaithfulness, they explain it, and we get the sense that Jamie disappearing into his stellar writing career isn't the only reason for the breakdown of his marriage. Cathy's neediness has contributed a great deal to the problem. All that I ask for / Is one little corner, / One private room / At the back of my heart. / Tell her I found one, / She sends out battalions / To claim it and blow it apart.

Goodbye Until Tomorrow / I Could Never Rescue You - Jamie and Cathi share a song again for the end, but they are standing on opposite sides of the spectrum. He is writing the farewell note that Cathy read in the first track, while she sees him off after their first date. Both are saying goodbye, but for Cathy it is the first of many, while Jamie hopes this farewell will stick. A stirring and bittersweet ending. Goodbye until tomorrow! / Goodbye until I crawl to your door, / And I will be waiting. / I will be waiting.

This semi-autobiographical story charting the progression of a romantic relationship reminded me very much of Blankets, the haunting graphic novel by Craig Thompson that traced a young love from start to too-soon finish. It's a bit depressing, especially since Jamie and Cathy actually do get married but don't last too long together once that happens. The vocal performances are impressive; since there are only two characters, both have a lot of responsibility on their shoulders, and they bear the burden well. While there are bits of spoken dialogue missing from this recording and we aren't able to see everything that is happening, the bulk of the show remains intact, so even if you're not lucky enough to have a personal guide like Nathan to walk you through the play, it shouldn't be too hard to follow, and it's worth an extra listen.

Here's to The Last Five Years, and Nathan, here's to the next 19. Happy birthday!

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Suitable for Framing Is Suitable for Columbo Fans

I've been enjoying several Columbo mysteries lately, courtesy of a friend who bought me a DVD collection. Last night, I watched Suitable for Framing. As is often the case, this title has a double meaning; the frumpy detective's prime suspect is an art critic whose job requires him to determine which paintings are "suitable for framing," but the word "frame" also comes into play as he tries to pin his uncle's murder on his uncle's ex-wife.

The critic in question is Dale Kingston (Ross Martin), who stands to inherit quite a tidy sum. Not that it really seems he needs the extra cash; the man lives extravagantly off of a combination of his uncle's generosity and his own high-paying work. As is generally the case, Columbo targets him right away, pestering him with seemingly irrelevant questions and seeming to constantly lose track of what he is doing. Dale isn't as easily taken in by this act as some are; he grows irritable with Columbo pretty early on, especially when he lets Dale know in a round-about way that he intends to search his home.

Columbo is perfectly entertaining here, using all his old tricks in order to gradually build up enough evidence to support his growing theory. I found Dale rather lacking as a main character, though. There was nothing particularly distinctive in his look or manner aside from an unpalatable mixture of arrogance and aggression, and he didn't rivet me to the screen. His accomplice, an art student named Tracy O'Connor (Rosanna Huffman), is similarly nondescript and doesn't really come into the story much, and her whole role is reminiscent of the pretty young accomplice in the pilot Columbo film. The whole art angle adds interest; it seems Columbo's suspects are often experts in some particular area, so the audience gets a nice peek into that world.

The most interesting characters' appearances are limited to one scene each. Vic Tayback pops up as Sam Franklin, a gruff painter who Columbo interviews, and Mary Wickes is entertaining as Tracy's chatterbox landlady, who seems poised to out-annoy the detective. I wish she'd gotten more screen time because she and Falk play beautifully off each other. Also noteworthy is Kim Hunter as Aunt Edna, a kindly, philanthropic woman who Dale frames rather sloppily, and Don Ameche as the attorney who reveals that the murder victim left his extensive art collection to her.

Suitable for Framing is an enjoyable mystery; it just lacks a bit of the punch of some other Columbo outings. Definitely worth watching as part of a set, but if you're looking for episodes to purchase individually, this wouldn't be at the top of my list.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

God Made You Special Isn't Quite as Special as It Could Be

I have been a fan of Big Idea's VeggieTales upwards of ten years now, and I get excited every time Bob, Larry and the whole veggie gang get together for another computer animated outing. While I was happy to hear about the latest release, God Made You Special, I was disappointed to learn that it was essentially a retrospective DVD. VeggieTales has made these before, most notably with the silly songs compilations, in which the extra silly song, along with the convenience of having all that goofiness in one place, made up for the fact that it was mostly old material.

I'm not quite sure that's the case with God Made You Special, whose point is to emphasize the closing line of most VeggieTales episodes: "God made you special, and he loves you very much!" Granted, the three stories it revisits are classics, and I have no complaint with them, but they're really not the only stories in the Veggie canon focusing on characters feeling special, so the DVD can hardly be called definitive. At the same time, at an hour and 15 minutes, it's considerably longer than the average episode, which runs either half an hour or 45 minutes, and I have a hunch that young attention spans might start to wander after the second story.

The re-treads include the following:

Dave and the Giant Pickle - This retelling of the Biblical tale of David and Goliath is pretty straightforward and by-the-book, as compared with later stories such as King George and the Duckie, Duke and the Great Pie War and The Ballad of Little Joe, which offer much looser adaptations, particularly in terms of setting. Dave is played by shrimpy goodie-two-shoes Junior Asparagus in one of his two stereotypical storylines. There's Junior Learns a Lesson, which is generally found in Junior-centric episodes taking place in the modern day, and then there's Junior Teaches a Lesson, of which this story is an example.

While his brothers go off to fight, Dave is left to tend the frequently-tipping sheep, since his father (Pa Grape) agrees with them that he's too little to be of any use against the Israelites' big, bad enemy. Eventually, his determination wins out over the protests even of the skeptical King Saul (Archibald Asparagus), and he sets out defeat the giant threatening his people and prove that "With God's help, little guys can do big things too!" This stands out as the only Bible story on this DVD, and it's an ideal one for demonstrating the titular principle to children.

The Gourds Must Be Crazy - Though it has precious little to do with the movie whose title it parodies, this installment definitely deserves a nomination for the best name of a Veggie installment. The episode is so early that it actually serves as the introduction to the loopy, over-eating Jimmy and Jerry Gourd and Scottish carrot Scooter, who is a blatant knock-off of Scotty, though in later episodes he usually plays a police officer. As a lifelong Star Trek fan, I've always loved this story, which was originally found on the video Are You My Neighbor? It gives us the U.S.S. Applepies, a meteor made out of popcorn, a very catchy ditty that drops the first hint of the elusive Aunt Ruth... It's golden.

This is one of those Junior Learns a Lesson stories; after he sees the contribution Jimmy and Jerry Gourd were able to make, even though they're the weird new guys who like to sing all the time, he re-thinks his resistance to inviting Fernando, a neighbor he hasn't gotten to know yet, to his upcoming party. Bob and Larry facilitate the lesson, while his dad reinforces it in a gentle bedtime chat.

A Snoodle's Tale - One of the most all-around gorgeous tales Big Idea has produced, this story is a throwback to The Story of Flibber-o-Loo, a Dr. Seuss-style retelling of the parable of the Good Samaritan. As much as that rhymed story evokes the good doctor, this much later one takes the mimicry to another level, inventing a world awash in dazzling pastel colors, bizarre shapes and winged creatures never seen before or since. The only familiar character is Bob, who serves as narrator. The lilting script borrows extensively from The Lorax, while there are obvious visual nods to How the Grinch Stole Christmas; in an interesting reversal, the recluse atop the mountain is the one character who makes our little hero feel loved, while the rest of the Snoodles are much Grinchier than the virtuous Whoville residents.

The adorable little Snoodle in the story wants to paint and fly, but his peers insist that he lacks the skill, and they use their abilities to make fun of him. It's only when he ascends Mount Ginches and meets a Stranger who we hear but never see that he realizes just how special he really is. Though there are no songs, the score is as lovely as the artwork. All factors combine perfectly to make this an incredibly artful presentation, and one very easy for children to relate to as just about all of us have gone through the experience of being belittled.

The Bellybutton Song - This is the first of two silly songs that shows up. It originally appeared on The Ballad of Little Joe and served as the introduction to the Boyz in the Sink, the 'NSync homage consisting of Larry, Junior, Jimmy and Mr. Lunt. Mr. Lunt is the lead singer here, and he wails earnestly to a disgusted nurse in whom he may or may not have a romantic interest that he has no bellybutton. Though it is decidedly silly, it fits the theme because Mr. Lunt's lack of a bellybutton is one of the things that makes him special.

The Yodeling Veterinarian of the Alps - This one was Larry's big comeback, premiering as the finale of the second silly song compilation, The End of Silliness? A barbershop quartet comprised of scallions narrates the story of the wacky veterinarian, played by Larry, who is convinced that his yodeling can heal any injured animal. The truth of the matter is that his faithful nurse, portrayed by a disgruntled Pa Grape, is the one fixing all the patients, while Larry gets all the credit. Eventually a patient arrives that neither of them is prepared to deal with, and Larry realizes the hard way that his singing isn't so magical after all. Here, it's Pa Grape who needs to feel special; this overlooked assistant role was revisited several years later in Sheerluck Holmes and the Golden Ruler.

This is all well and good, but for the devoted Veggie fan, it's probably not enough to merit buying the collection. What long-time fans need is new material. God Made You Special mostly offers this in the form of countertop chatter between stories and candid interviews with real kids. Bob starts off by introducing the topic, but Larry quickly takes over, much to Bob's consternation. It seems everyone has something to say about being special, but will the tomato ever get a chance to toss in his two cents? The interviews take up more time than the chatter, and it's an interesting idea, getting kids' reactions to the various tales. What a thrill it must've been for those children to see themselves up there on the screen, transformed into vegetables! But the answers really aren't all that compelling; they're the sort of answers you would expect, and while it might be a nice idea to show each story and the kids' reactions in a Sunday school setting, hopefully sparking discussion, I find these segments rather skippable, like the live-action bits that break up several of the educational shows on PBS.

That leaves the new story, which comes fairly early in the film. I'm a little surprised they didn't save this one for last, since it is both new and it ties in with Bob's countertop feelings of inadequacy. I do think A Snoodle's Tale is much more powerful, but it still might have made more sense to give long-time fans something to look forward to at the end. Bob's Vacation finds Bob giving Larry instructions on how to look after his house and answer the show's fan mail while he is away. Larry is eager to help but rather worried he won't do the job properly. In an effort to appear confident, however, he takes a call from Madame Blueberry, who offers her assistant's help in caring for Bob's plants. When Bob overhears Larry saying, "He's not that special," he is devastated. Little does he know that Larry is referring to Bob's beloved fern, which he attends faithfully and even names, reminding me of the square Nick Angel in Hot Fuzz.

While Bob goes off to turn his vacation into a pity party, Larry grapples with his housekeeping duties and panics when half the town decides to crash at Bob's to answer fan mail and gorge on pizza. Of course, there's affirmation for both Bob and Larry by the end of the songless short, but Bob seems a little excessively petulant. The look is also a bit strange; the colors are a bit askew, slightly paler, as they were in the added segments when VeggieTales was on NBC. It's not unpleasant to look at, but the coloration is distinct enough that it doesn't look quite right.

If you're as big a Veggie fan as I am, you'll want this collection even though you're not getting that much new material, none of which is especially memorable. If you've never seen the veggies before, this isn't a bad place to start, though the countertop scenes are self-referential, so you might feel a little out of the loop. All told, God Made You Special contains several quality components, but as a package deal... well, it's just not that special.

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Llittle Ones Will Llove Llama Llama Red Pajama

I'm a night owl. I like to stay up as late as I possibly can, reading, watching TV or surfing the net with bleary eyes. I've always been more alert on late nights than early mornings, but there was a time when I didn't get to pick my own bedtime. Back in those days, one of my favorite books was Marvin K. Mooney, Will You Please Go Now? I loved the stubborn little Marvin, who refused any and all of the creative options put before him before finally giving in and going up to bed. By the time Llama Llama Red Pajama was published, I'd been bedtime-free for years, but I recognize a kindred spirit when I see one, and if he'd been around back in those days, Llama Llama Red Pajama would no doubt have joined Marvin in my bedtime-protesting alliance.

Llama Llama Red Pajama is written and illustrated by Anna Dewdney. While Marvin hasn't yet gone to bed, Llama is there already, warm and snuggly in his red pajamas, safe and sound under a patchwork quilt. But when his mother turns out the light and says goodnight, he starts to worry. He doesn't like to be all alone - well, alone except for his little stuffed llama. He wants his mama back, and when she doesn't immediately appear, he gets even more nervous, evoking sympathy and laughs. Will his mama ever return? Will he ever be able to get to sleep?

This young llama's anxieties are beautifully illustrated throughout the book. After his mama leaves, we see him sitting up in bed, glancing around nervously as the darkness seems to swirl around him. He opens his mouth and bleats down to his mama, requesting a drink of water; later, he scrunches his eyes up, flattens his ears and hollers, leaving his four teeth clearly visible. When she still doesn't come, he uses the quilt as a shield, peering over it with wide eyes before letting out one more blood-curdling yell, for which he assumes an adorably contrite gaze after his mother, looking quite intimidating as she glares with her hands on her hips, scolds him for his impatience.

Generally, though, Mama is anything but intimidating. Bedecked in a blue dress reminiscent of the one worn by Mama Bear in the Berenstain Bears books, over which she wears a white apron, Mama cuddles her child comfortingly at the beginning and end of the book. In the interim, she busily multi-tasks, washing dishes and chatting on the phone until her son's outburst sends her into a panic in one of the book's most amusing illustrations.

The brightly colored pictures that fill each page are my favorite part of the book, but the writing is great too. Dewdney tells her tale in very brisk, catchy rhyme, leaning especially on the words "llama," "pajama" and "mama," which form a sort of chorus throughout the book, though the action in each of the refrains is slightly different. The stanzas average ten words each, and certain words, such as "alone" and "boo hoo-ing" are accentuated with bold, colored print.

Llama Llama Red Pajama is a charming book to help calm the fears of a young child as darkness falls. With sprightly rhymes, marvelous illustrations, hilarious expressions and a comforting message, it's an ideal story for a child to read with a parent while getting nice and cozy in a pair of red - or any other color - pajamas.

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

LOST Fans Get a Chance to Puzzle Over the Others

LOST is an extremely puzzling show, so it makes perfect sense to create four perplexing jigsaw puzzles to complement what we see on television. In January, I toiled over the third installment in the series of four 1000-piece puzzles, which focused on the mysterious numbers: 4 8 15 16 23 42. While it took several days for me to complete it, with help from my friend and my parents, at least there was a clearly discernible pattern, though I didn't pick up on it right away. You see, the puzzles are made even more tricky because the box shows only a small segment of the finished picture, so I didn't know going into it that I had to arrange the puzzle so that a giant 4, 8 and 15 would be on the top and 16, 23 and 42 be in the bottom, and I didn't realize that within each of these extra-large numbers I would find multiple repetitions of that same number. Once I figured that out, the task became considerably more manageable.

Last month, I decided to tackle the second puzzle, which focuses on the Others, those mysterious island dwellers who plague the castaways of Flight 815. While the third season deals more intensively with the Others than the first two do, this puzzle came out prior to that season, so don't expect to catch a glimpse of Juliet, Richard, Mikhail or anyone else introduced in season three. The big red question mark from the map on the hatch blast doors rests roughly in the middle of the puzzle, but there's little rhyme or reason beyond that; postcard-like snapshots extend from the center, connected by golden, spidery threads, but there's no clear way to determine where they ought to go.

On the one hand, this makes it easy to assemble little bits of the puzzle at a time, since each picture is self-contained and usually encompasses between 4 and 20 pieces; on the other, it's pretty difficult to orient them correctly, especially with all the random leafy greenness between pictures. It was partly for this reason that when my friend and I tried putting it together at her house, we failed. Without the puzzle board my mom got me for Christmas a few years back, complete with protective foam covering, I doubt it would have worked at my house either, especially since my cats kept threatening to sit on it...

The puzzle box promises exclusive content, but the puzzle itself doesn't really deliver. While it is very cool-looking when finished, it just offers a lot of pictures we've already scene, and often from a somewhat skewed perspective so it's hard to tell what's going on. We see plenty of Ben (or Henry, as he was known in season two), Tom ("Mr. Friendly" up until the season finale) and Ethan; Bea, Danny, Alex and others show up too, as do various castaways. Additionally, at the bottom of the puzzle there's the ominous statue of a four-toed foot and the PALA FERRY sign. This is all very nice, but if you're looking for unique insight into the show, you'll have to spring for some puzzle glue and cover first the front and then the back. Then, get ahold of a black light and shine it over the back, and you'll be able to read the chicken scratch written in pale yellow ink. While I didn't find any of the notes or diagrams particularly illuminating, they could make more sense when viewed in conjunction with the other four puzzles, since the four together show a complete version of a map of the island.

I still have yet to attempt The Hatch, which I own, and Before the Crash, which I haven't seen for sale in stores, but The Others is considerably more frustrating than The Numbers - though by the same token, there's an even greater sense of satisfaction when it is finished. Serious LOST fans who enjoy putting together puzzles will get a kick out of it, especially if they find the Others considerably intriguing; they should just be prepared for a rather lengthy time commitment...

Fans Will Flip Over the Harry Potter Flip Book

I was unable to be in town for the grand unveiling of the seventh Harry Potter book at the bookstore where I've worked on and off for several years, so when I stopped by to say hi later that month, I wanted to get something Potterish. I settled on some blood pops - whose bumpy texture I found strange, and whose red coloring was much too runny for someone as messy as me - and, for something a little more permanent, a lovely little book entitled simply Harry Potter Flip Book. I presume by this that there only is one such flip book, though certainly any number of them could have been made, and certainly it would have made sense to make one for each movie. But this novelty, whose copyright reads 2007 though it depicts scenes from the film Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, appears to be one of a kind.

When I was a youngster, I was enthralled by flip books, and that's never really changed. I don't see them all that often; when I do, I can never resist the urge to thumb through them. I always used to try making flip books of my own a la Danny in Hot Fuzz - well, the subject was always a bit more benign than those, but it didn't really matter what action I was attempting, it always came off looking pathetic. My brother Nathan has managed a few decent ones; we seem to have several notepads with little doodles in the corner that spring to life if we leaf through quickly enough, though most of these are probably missing a few pages by now...

Of course, the Harry Potter flip book does not restrict itself to the corner of a page. Granted, it's a tiny book, smaller than the average pocket notepad but oriented horizontally. Still, it's large enough that those full-color pages make an impact. "Two spellbinding scenes from the Harry Potter movies spring to live in the palm of your hand!" promises a note printed on a scroll on the back cover. Does it fulfill that pledge?

Well, yes, as well as a book that is properly read in about 10 seconds can. Put your thumb on the front page and let the pages zoom past at whatever pace you're most comfortable with. You can get through the book in the blink of an eye or slow things down so much that you study each page at length. I recommend the middle ground, quickly enough that it actually looks animated, slowly enough that you can see what's happening.

If you start from the front, you'll get the thrilling moment when Harry flies over the lake with Buckbeak the hippogriff. Turn it upside down and start from the back, and it's the entertaining spectacle of Neville's Snape boggart taking on the wardrobe of his grandmother, then morphing into several other boggarts. Harry and Buckbeak are on the cover, and that is the scene that works the best; Snape being forced into Augusta's musty old dress, hat and muff looks great, but the second half seems rather nebulous, with only the giant spider clearly defined, and that's only really if you're taking it picture by picture - and if you do that, there are a couple of really creepy transitional Snape shots.

For four dollars, you get the pair of scenes, and it's a fun little book to have, especially if you are a big fan of Prisoner of Azkaban. Now if they'd just come out with a few more of them...

Smallville Enthusiast Takes the Plunge Into Veronica Mars

I have a friend who's been trying to get me to watch Veronica Mars for more than a year. It's not that I objected to the idea, but I was a tad wary of the possibility of adding yet another show to my list of obsessions, and anyway I figured it would be more fun to watch the show with him. I finally got my chance last month when he cane back to town for an extended stay. By this time, he'd hooked his sister, and the three of us sat down to watch the show together. I was entertained but not enraptured, and my lack of outward enthusiasm led them to suspect they were forcing the show on me; I was hooked enough, however, that I objected and insisted I really did want to see the rest of the season. Last week, I finished it. Do I have another obsession to deal with? Nah. But I would like to watch the last two seasons...

Until the merger, Veronica Mars aired on UPN, which I tend to think of as the WB's older brother. So when I sat down to watch this show, I couldn't help but compare it with Smallville, which is similar in many ways but rather less edgy. Veronica (Kristen Bell) reminds me a great deal of Chloe, the dangerously inquisitive high school journalist who manages to crack most of the mysteries in her little town, with plenty of help from a long list of contacts. Like Chloe, she's gutsy and snarky; she lives alone with her father after her train wreck of a mother takes off; there are certain mysteries she's especially obsessed with solving... She even looks like Chloe with her shoulder-length blond hair. Moreover, she pals around with good-natured, indispensable Wallace Fennel (Percy Daggs III), who's practically a dead ringer for Pete Ross, right down to my suspicion that he has an unrequited crush on Veronica. Toss in the Luthor-like dynamic between smart-alecky rich kid Logan Echolls (Jason Dohring) and his movie star father Aaron (Harry Hamlin) and this show is only a few cornfields and super-powered teenagers short of a small town in Kansas.

In the pilot episode, we're introduced to the three major mysteries that will preoccupy our heroine throughout the season. 1) Where is her mom? 2) What happened the night of the party that ended with her waking up half-clothed in a strange bed? 3) Who really murdered her best friend Lilly Kane (Amanda Seyfried)? She pursues the first two questions quietly and occasionally, focusing most of her attention on the third, because of which a man's life hangs in the balance, to say nothing of her father's reputation. Keith Mars (Enrico Colatoni) used to be the sheriff of Neptune, California, but when he went after Lilly's influential parents following her death, he was forced out of office. Now he runs a private practice with his sleuthing daughter, with whom he enjoys a chummy relationship. While he tries to keep her from getting in too far over her head, he recognizes that Veronica is a very clever and determined young lady, so he generally gives her a pretty loose rein.

Wallace, a newcomer to Neptune who meets Veronica when she rescues him from humiliation on his first day of school, is subsequently willing to put himself on the line for her, and there are many scenes of them enjoying lunch together in the sun-drenched cafeteria outside the school, plotting another covert activity. Oddly enough, another of Veronica's good buddies is Eli "Weevil" Navarro (Francis Capra), the gang leader who antagonized Wallace. Weevil's a tough guy, but deep down he's a softie, and he too owes Veronica after she clears his name when he is wrongfully sent to prison, so he often lends a hand when Veronica needs it. Also firmly in her camp, though not seen quite as often, is Cindy "Mac" Mackenzie (Tina Majorino), an off-beat computer whiz who evidently plays a larger role in later seasons.

And what would a teen drama be without a little romance? Although prior to the beginning of the show, Veronica only had one boyfriend - Lilly's brother Duncan (Teddy Dunn), who dumped her without explanation shortly before his sister's death - she manages to have three major romantic relationships in her junior year of high school. The first and shortest-lived of these is with Troy Vandegraff (Aaron Ashmore), a friend of Duncan's who seems like a great guy but appears to be hiding something. Later, she falls for Leo D'Amato (Max Greenfield), a sweetheart of a cop who provides a refreshing contrast to the corrupt Sheriff Lamb (Michael Muhney), but that relationship is compromised with the advent of ardent affections from a surprising source.

The cast is solid, with the notable exception of Dunn, who wanders lifelessly through nearly every scene. Keith is probably my favorite character, a doting father with a fantastic sense of humor, childlike enthusiasm and an unconventional way of getting his job done. Wallace and Leo are instantly lovable, while Weevil and Logan are sweet underneath a carefully constructed exterior. The latter is an especially fun character, always ready with a smirk and a biting remark, and has further to go than Weevil when it comes to being a decent guy, but he steps up to the challenge impressively a couple of times. Mac is an intelligent outsider who has much more in common with Veronica than Lilly ever did; Veronica herself is nearly always likable, with a strong sense of morality and loyalty to her friends and parents, though she sometimes stoops to dubious methods to extract information. Among the more minor players, I'm especially fond of cynical lawyer Cliff McCormack (Daran Norris), who often assists Veronica in her endeavors, and perpetually exasperated principal Van Clemmons (Duane Daniels), who skulks about the school with a hangdog expression, wanting the best for his students but annoyed by Veronica's ability to outsmart him.

Joel Silver and Rob Thomas are the show's producers, with the latter having a hand in writing all the episodes. It's well written, though the dialogue veers much closer to R-rated territory than Smallville does. Like LOST, it makes frequent use of flashbacks, but these are filmed in a fuzzy, jarring way, and we never stay immersed in them very long. Otherwise, the cinematography is pleasing enough, and while most of the music used on the show is a little loud for my tastes, it fits the tone well. One of my favorite aspects of the show is the episode titles, nearly all of which are a pop culture reference, from Star Trek to Leave it to Beaver.

Like the first season of Smallville, which features a succession of new Kryptonite-infected terrors to defeat, the first season of Veronica Mars is full of individual mysteries, but the season-long arc is well-defined enough that watching individual episodes out of order is likely to be confusing, and most of the questions are tied up nicely enough by the end that this season could stand alone. That it doesn't need to should be a comfort to fans who are mourning its spot on the CW's fall lineup, and I'm looking forward to watching the rest of the series. There might not be any meteors to contend with, but Mars is out of this world!