John Denver Flies High in Higher Ground

When it comes to individual singers, I don’t think there’s anybody who holds a more exalted place in my musical hierarchy than John Denver. So when I was browsing around YouTube the other day looking for a recording of Alaska and Me, I was startled to come across a version of the song from a movie I never knew existed. The title: Higher Ground, which is also the title of my favorite John Denver album, the album on which Alaska and Me is found. I didn’t care what the movie was about; I immediately put it in my Netflix queue.

I figured, though, that there would be an inspirational bent to it. After all, this was John Denver, and the movie shares its name with a song whose chorus is “Maybe it’s just the dream in me, maybe it’s just my style, maybe it’s just the freedom that I’ve found, but given the possibility of living up to the dream in me, you know that I’ll be reachin’ for higher ground.” It looks as though the song may have been written specifically for the movie; certainly it’s integrated into the score to an almost excessive extent, with the keyboard picking up the theme with various emotional shadings at key moments in the movie.

Knowing that at least one other song from the album was featured in the movie, I had hopes that it might be a showcase for several of the tracks, but Alaska and Me and Higher Ground are the only songs included, with the exception of a song at a sing-along whose words I can’t make out. If it’s a John Denver song, it’s one I’ve never heard before. Granted, looking over the songs on the album, several of them seem completely inappropriate, particularly Sing Australia and Country Girl in Paris. But there are a couple of scenes in which All This Joy would have fit in very nicely, and there could have been a place for For You or Never a Doubt.

Music isn’t a huge part of this movie, though. Denver’s character is Jim Clayton, an FBI agent in Los Angeles who becomes disillusioned with his job after his boss makes a choice that costs someone his life. He decides to take his buddy Rick up on his offer to come to Alaska and fly for his struggling airline, which primarily shuttles fishing supplies. Rick is played by Martin Kove, previously known to me only as El Creepo Supremo John Kreese in the Karate Kid movies. I recognized him immediately and was curious to see him in this much more sympathetic role. While Rick is a bit of a hothead, he’s indisputably a good guy, and I especially like the camaraderie between him and Jim.

Rick is a husband and a father. His wife Ginny (Meg Wittner) ends up having a larger role than he does, as does his son Tommy, played by Brandon Marsh, whose single acting credit is for this movie. That doesn’t surprise me, since I found his performance very over-the-top and borderline abrasive. On the whole, though, I was fine with the acting, especially by Richard Masur, who is nicely understated as villainous booze runner McClain, and John Rhys-Davies, whose Lieutenant Smight is a robust Scotsman determined to see justice served.

This movie was written by Michael Eric Stein, directed by Robert Day and produced in part by John Denver. It feels like a pet project for him, and I can’t help thinking he had input into the general direction of the screenplay. For his fans, that’s pretty good news, though there’s something very unsettling now about seeing scene after scene of John Denver flying a small airplane over a large expanse of water. The scenery is gorgeous, however, and the emphasis on nature, clean living and diplomacy all seem right in line with the messages he presented through his music. Some of the dialogue is a little cheesy, especially Jim’s habit of calling everybody he meets “pal,” but that’s about what I would expect from a made-for-TV flick.

Yes, this movie was aired on television and then largely forgotten. I wouldn’t call it a masterpiece. But for a lifelong John Denver fan, it is a hidden treasure. If you count yourself in that category and are just as unaware of this film as I was, do yourself a favor and reach for Higher Ground.

It's Entertainment Presents Celtic Thunder, Lawrence Welk-Style

Back in October of 2009, Celtic Thunder gave two extra-special performances in Toronto. I learned about them about a week ahead of time, long after I had tickets to see them in my own hometown, and while I was intrigued at the idea of sitting in on the live recording of a DVD, going up there for the concerts was far from practical. It would have to wait a few months. Storm, the mini-musical filmed at that time, still won’t be out until this summer, but It’s Entertainment has now been out for a month and is making the rounds on PBS.

The look of this show is significantly different from in the first two DVDs. This time, instead of a dark, imposing stage with a stormy backdrop, the set-up is reminiscent of something like The Lawrence Welk Show. Everything is bright and cheerful-looking, and beyond the stage itself are set pieces like a fountain, a charming country bridge, a lamppost and a park bench. The tone is also very different. When I first encountered Celtic Thunder, I rather thought they took themselves a bit too seriously. Theirs are very regimented shows with little room for improvisation on their part, so you don’t get the witty banter I so enjoy at an Irish Rovers concert. However, there’s a definite attempt here to maintain a light touch. Most of the performances have a humorous element, and it seems like one of the main objectives of this particular DVD is to showcase how much fun the lads can be.

Almost all of the more solemn tracks from the album are omitted, so you’ll have to spring for the CD to hear George Donaldson’s Hello Again, Ryan Kelly’s Everything I Do, Paul Byrom’s Sway and Neil Byrne’s only solo song, When You Wish Upon a Star. An exquisite six-person a cappella version of Amazing Grace is also left out of the mix.

Meanwhile, several older songs are tossed in. Take Me Home, from the album of the same title, opens the show, while Ireland’s Call closes it. Both are energetic numbers, though somewhat less theatrical this time without the dramatic backdrop and lighting. During the last number, keep an eye out for young Damian McGinty, who misses a step and is swiftly yanked back on course by a big-brotherly Paul. Other repeats include George’s peppy 500 Miles, Ryan’s steamy Every Breath You Take and Paul’s inspirational You Raise Me Up.

The oddest of the performances is Just Like Jesse James, since the young woman performing it seems to come out of nowhere. I should actually say women, because while we see the fiercely seductive Caroline Torti, it’s the powerhouse vocals of Essex songstress Charley Bird that we’re hearing. I’m impressed with them both, and it’s a very enjoyable performance, but it doesn’t really fit in, and while the endearing antics of intimidated Keith Harkin and hapless would-be wingman Damian are a hoot, Keith’s behavior hardly matches up with her description of a man who comes “struttin' into town like [he’s] slingin’ a gun / just a small town dude with a big city attitude.”

Keith does the singing on two songs. Hard to Say I’m Sorry is a pretty typical song for him, earnest and sensitive, and Caroline remains for a bit of reconciliation. I don’t think the two songs really go together very well, but as I like both performances a lot, I can’t complain too much. I also appreciate that he sticks pretty close to the melody for this one; he can really go to town on those runs, but a more straightforward reading makes a nice change. Meanwhile, his surfer medley is pure fun and gives him a chance to jam on the guitar a bit. Considering his professed love of surfing, the Beach Boys feel like a perfect fit for him.

He also joins Neil and Ryan on the DVD’s prettiest performance, a harmonious three-verse rendition of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. This is really the only moment in the spotlight for Neil, who has been with the show as an instrumentalist and back-up vocalist for some time but only now is stepping up to become a sixth member of the ensemble. There’s a delicate beauty to the blend of voices here and a sense of raw power when the other three singers, along with a slew of musicians, come together for the show-stopping version of U2’s Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.

George, Paul and Ryan each has one new song to himself. George takes on the Proclaimers’ peppy Life With You, singing with vigor and clearly enjoying himself as he takes every opportunity to point to his wife and young daughter in the audience. Paul, dressed to the nines in a fancy suit complete with a top hat and cane, shows off a hitherto hidden aptitude for tap dancing in the wonderfully playful Doo Wacka Doo, written by Phil Coulter as a tribute to the music of the Roaring Twenties.

Ryan gets to do even more moving around in Bad, Bad Leroy Brown, a song that has long been a favorite of mine. Here, his musical theater background is readily apparent as he glides across the stage, looking slick and conspiratorial as he plays the part of an overly involved narrator reminiscent of the one in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Meanwhile, he has a small troupe of dancers behind him, and their acrobatic antics in depicting the gritty South Chicago scene remind me of West Side Story. I love Ryan’s expressions in this one, his total engagement with the song and the obvious relish in his delivery of certain lines. My only complaint here is that the man who portrays Leroy himself seems far too wimpy-looking to be that notorious scoundrel.

Damian gets two songs to himself, and both strike a nice balance between his youth and his more mature voice. His delivery is smooth and effortless in Home, a slower number that has him reflecting on the pitfalls of a life on the road. It’s beautifully done, but I like Standing on the Corner even better. For this song, he comes out in a pristine white suit and dapper cap and does his best to adopt the swaggering stance of Dean Martin. Both songs pair him up with petite Hayley-Jo Murphy, who emanates sweetness as the two engage in a shyly flirtatious dance that celebrates the exhilaration of a first romance.

The concert zooms by all too quickly, but if you head over to the special features, there’s a delightful video of about 40 minutes in length that offers a behind-the-scenes peek of the lads at work and play. Much of this video involves the stay some of them had in a castle in Ireland. The nonagenarian owner gives them a tour of his home, complete with many fascinating historical tidbits; Ryan in particular seems to hang on every word. Clearly this is a man who respects his elders. Interspersed with this tour are several segments in which the lads discuss various elements of their Celtic Thunder experience. One neat inclusion is a peek into the auditions. I only wish these had been a bit longer; I was especially keen to hear Ryan’s rendition of Jesus Christ Superstar‘s Heaven on Their Minds. Though most of the pre-taped segments show the members individually, there’s also opportunity to see some of the banter among the lads and get a sense of their brotherly affection and mischief toward one another. Meanwhile, the gorgeous scenery of the castle grounds makes up a bit for the diminished focus on Celtic themes in the concert itself.

This is Celtic Thunder’s third DVD. If you wants more of a celebration of Irish and Scottish heritage, I’d refer you first to their earlier efforts, but if you’re in the mood for something that’s just plain fun, It’s Entertainment definitely delivers.

Celtic Thunder's It's Entertainment Lives Up To Its Name

Fifteen months ago, I first watched Celtic Thunder on PBS. Little did I know then that this quintet - now a sextet - was about to comfortably seat itself in the upper reaches of my hierarchy of musicians. Last summer saw the release of their third album, Take Me Home. Last fall, I had second-row seats to their concert in Erie, and luck was on my side later that night when I encountered them after the concert and even got a hug from an obliging Ryan Kelly, my favorite member of the group. They helped draw me into Twitter, which gave me a better sense of their personalities: George’s affection, Ryan’s humility, Paul’s wit, Keith’s ambition, Damian’s exuberance (which recently, much to my delight, has often been directed toward LOST).

Now this past month saw the release of It’s Entertainment, which marks a significant change for the group as Neil Byrne, previously known to fans primarily for his skills as an instrumentalist, steps up to join the lads for a couple of songs and even gets one to himself. It also marks a shift in focus, as the purpose of this particular album is to pay tribute to some of the lads’ musical heroes, and the greats of music in general. The tone, especially on the DVD, is generally light-hearted and very American.

The result feels both fun and affectionate, but some may be bothered by the fact that traditional Celtic music has little representation here and Irish songwriting legend Phil Coulter has penned only one new song for the occasion - and it, too, sounds extremely American. Not to fear, though; up next is a concept album set in Ireland of yesteryear. In the meantime, It’s Entertainment may be the least Irish of their albums, but it’s still a great accompaniment to your St. Patrick’s Day festivities.

Home - Damian McGinty joined the group when he was 14 years old, so he is the member who has changed the most in the three years since the group assembled. Their first concert saw him singing inspirational ballads like A Bird Without Wings and bubblegum numbers like Puppy Love. He knocked both out of the park. But by the time Take Me Home came along, his voice had matured to the point that the teenie bopper songs were starting to sound a little silly. I was hoping this album would give him something with more of an adult edge, so I was very happy with this selection.

It’s really a perfect choice for this young man who has been spending weeks or even months away from home since 2007 - and who happens to be a huge fan of Michael Buble. In this song, there’s a slightly world-weary edge to the homesickness. Like Bob Seger’s Turn the Page, John Denver’s Back Home Again and Paul Simon’s Homeward Bound, it acknowledges that a musician’s life isn’t all fun and games and that touring - and separation from loved ones - can be downright tiring. Damian delivers a smooth, soulful performance, and it becomes apparent that the boy is growing up. “May be surrounded by / A million people; I / Still feel all alone. / I just wanna go home...”

Life With You - George Donaldson is the elder statesman of the group, the only Scot, the only husband and the only father, and he’s yet to be given a song that doesn’t feel absolutely perfect for him. There’s such a depth to his delivery, which has an odd rippling quality that owes much to his rich Glaswegian accent. All of his songs have to do with faithfulness - to a parent, to a job, to a child, to a spouse. This up-tempo number reminds me of the Irish Rovers’ Years May Come, Years May Go, a song about cheerfully sticking together through the ups and downs of life.

While that song largely looks backward, this one looks forward. We get the sense that the speaker and his love haven’t been together all that long, and he is still amazed that he has her and wants to be sure she knows it. The bouncy keyboard accompaniment adds to the appeal of this song, as does the rather unusual staccato phrasing. “But since I met you I’m distraught / You wandered in and now I’m caught / I never thought I would see / Someone so truly good, some / One who’s so everything I’m not.” It’s the perfect companion to the Proclaimers’ more famous I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles), which George sings on Take Me Home and which is also included on the It’s Entertainment DVD.

Lough Swilly Railway - This is one song that definitely does sound Irish. It’s a fast-paced reel complete with a variety of instruments, including fiddles, guitar, piano and a sprightly type of hand-held percussion I can’t quite place. Every album has to have at least one of these instrumental tracks that shows off the skills of the band and makes you want to get up and do a jig. While it’s more fun when you can watch the musicians at work, this track remains exhilarating without the visual elements.

Hallelujah - This is probably the track I was most looking forward to, as I’ve been enchanted with the Leonard Cohen song since I first heard Rufus Wainwright’s version in Shrek and since I knew that the harmonies would be stunning. The fact that Ryan would be one of the trio here excited me, and Neil’s inclusion intrigued me. While I am disappointed that they sang only three verses, I’m not surprised, given Celtic Thunder’s tendency to shorten songs.

Piano is the predominant instrument here, augmented by understated strings. Neil gets to be the one to start things off, with the first verse to himself, before Ryan’s huskier voice joins his tender tenor for the chorus. Keith goes solo on the first couple of lines in the second verse, while the rest of the song is marked by close the communion of voices, with different singers slightly more audible at different times. The three men sound just as exquisite together as I had hoped - though the best in harmony is yet to come... “I heard there was a secret chord / That David played and it pleased the Lord, / But you don't really care for music, do ya? / Well, it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth / The minor fall and the major lift, / The baffled king composing hallelujah...”

Just Like Jesse James - This song is an anomaly. I’m glad I watched the DVD first, because at least that provides a bit of context; nonetheless, my parents and I turned to each other with puzzled expressions that said, “Who is this girl and why is she singing?” It seems the entire purpose of this song is to set up Keith’s apology in the next track, which doesn’t make a lot of sense because it is not the apology of the type of cocksure ne’er-do-well this song describes. Rather, it’s perfectly in line with the sensitive persona evident through the rest of his songs. If anything, this song should be directed at Ryan, who appears to be a total sweetheart in real life but, with his background in musical theater, has a blast playing the bad boy. “So if you're so tough / Come on and prove it. / You heart is down for the count and you know you're gonna lose it. / Tonight you're gonna go down in flames / Just like Jesse James.”

So yeah, the song doesn’t make a lot of sense. But now that I’ve got that off my chest, I’ll shrug off the objection because Charley Bird is a phenomenal singer. She has a wonderful tone to her voice that is melodious but tough, and I love listening to this track. I also feel badly for her because she appears to have been tossed in without any real promotion. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of effort to let people know who she is. This is even more egregious with the DVD, as Caroline Torti, a lovely dancer who seems perfectly equipped to convey the ferocity of the lyrics, seamlessly lip-synchs the song. It took a bit of investigation on my part to figure out they were two different people. I feel like both of them are kinda getting the short end of the stick here in terms of recognition.

Hard to Say I’m Sorry - It’s overwrought power ballad time, but I never really minded this one as I do several of the songs in this category, including I Want to Know What Love Is, which Keith Harkin sings on another album. This Chicago song always struck me as sweet and sincere, and as power ballads go, it’s on the understated side, with the crescendos feeling natural instead of forced.

Keith still comes across here like an incredibly kind, gentlemanly soul, a poor match with the man being berated in the song that precedes it. He’s more straightforward than usual here; he has a tendency to indulge in a bit of vocal acrobatics, but on this track he sticks pretty close to the melody, and his closing falsetto note is gorgeous. “After all that we've been through, / I will make it up to you. I promise to. / And after all that's been said and done, / You're just the part of me I can't let go.”

Bad Bad Leroy Brown - Devoted Jim Croce fan that I am, I was really looking forward to seeing Ryan tackle this long-time favorite. This is another one where you’re missing a lot by not getting the visuals, but it’s still a whole heck of a lot of fun to listen to. The piano and brass offer peppy back-up as Ryan narrates this gripping tale about a guy too big for his britches with obvious gusto.

You can really get a sense of his theatrical background here, even without the West Side Story-ish choreography that accompanies the song on the DVD; I love how he accentuates certain lines with a growl or a sultry exclamation. He’s said that he just loves performing this song, and I just love listening to it! “Well the South side of Chicago / Is the baddest part of town / And if you go down there / You better just beware / Of a man named Leroy Brown...”

Doo Wacka Doo - I’ve been surprised to discover just how witty Paul Byrom is, since he rarely gets the chance to show off that side with his songs, which tend to be operatic and quite solemn. That’s a Woman, his duet with Ryan, is an exception, but even so, his part of the song is pretty earnest, while Ryan gets to have all the snarky fun. He still comes across as very sophisticated here, especially whenever he says the word “dance,” but there’s a wonderfully light touch to this Phil Coulter original, which is written in the style of music of the Twenties and Thirties.

The brass, ragtime piano and brisk percussion all evoke the Roaring Twenties. Coulter’s lyrics are clever and at one point give him a chance to show off his operatic chops. They’re also affectionate, connecting a fascination with the music of this era to the love of his grandparents and a desire to step into the world of their youth. An extremely entertaining song that is perhaps the album’s most surprising track (Jesse James aside). “Doo wacka doo wacka doo wacka doo wacka doo, the band would play. / Doo wacka doo wacka doo wacka doo, they’d dance the night away...”

Amazing Grace - I would imagine I’ve heard this song more than all the others in the Celtic Thunder repertoire combined, and I’ve encountered more different versions than I could begin to count. It’s one of those hymns that seems to sit right near the top of nearly every church-goer‘s list of favorites, and it’s one that resonates with me even more this year than usual as it was featured in one of the few official promos going into LOST‘s sixth season, giving me high hopes for impending redemptive conclusions to the arcs of these conflicted characters. I was happy to see that this would be a part of the album. But I didn’t expect that it would be the track that would floor me more than any other, or that it would instantly become the definite version of the song for me. It’s a purely a cappella track, and it’s easy to imagine that they are singing under the dome of a magnificent cathedral.

Ryan, an organist’s son who has lent his voice to countless church services, opens the song with a reverence to suggest both sincerity and intimate familiarity with the hymn, soon to be replaced by Keith, after which Neil’s harmonies soar effortlessly over them into the upper register, giving the lines an Appalachian flavor. At least I think that’s Neil doing the high harmonies; it could be Keith, and I wish I could consult a video to get a better feel for who’s singing what. While the repetition of the first verse at the end is a group effort, Ryan’s is the most prominent voice in the concluding lines, though Damian goes on to repeat the final line. In between, each singer has his moment in the spotlight, though rarely is there only one voice to be heard at any given time.

George and Paul share lead vocals on the second verse, while the third is the most integrated of the verses, with no clear leader. Damian demonstrates how much deeper his voice has gotten in the solemn fourth verse, while Neil, who seems to now hold the honor of having the highest voice in the group, has the lead in the first half of the repeated first verse. And all the while, other members of the group weave in and out of elaborate harmonies, creating a profoundly moving listening experience. My only complaint is that, like Take Me Home’s Green Fields of France, this was not included on the DVD. Are the harmonies too complex to replicate on stage?

Hello Again - Neil Diamond is another of my favorite singer-songwriters, so I was happy to find one of his songs here. George’s deep, rumbling voice is perfect for the song; in the first line, he sounds so much like Diamond it’s eerie. As the song goes on, his own distinct voice shines through more as gently rippling chimes provide a nice counterpart to his low register. Another touching ballad about love and faithfulness. “Just called to say hello. / I couldn't sleep at all tonight / And I know it's late / But I couldn't wait. / Hello.”

When You Wish Upon a Star - Neil’s official introduction, to the accompaniment of a mellow-sounding keyboard. This feels like an appropriate song for this talented musician brought from the sidelines into the spotlight. I’m still getting used to his voice and learning to identify it for its own qualities rather than simply recognizing that it’s none of the other five. There’s a lovely tone to it, and he really excels at those high notes. More than anybody else in the group, I think, he has a voice that reminds me of a contemporary boy band. At any rate, this is a great track and a fitting way for Neil to shine. “When you wish upon a star your dreams come true...”

Standing on the Corner - This is Damian’s more light-hearted song, somewhat akin to his earlier teen idol-type tunes. Again he comes across as more of a young man instead of a teenager. His Irish accent disappears altogether as he tries to emulate a member of the Rat Pack, with a sophisticated swagger undermined by his confession that he hasn’t got a girl, and that attaining one is a dream that seems out of reach for him. He’s content to window-shop, believing his balance of charm and style insufficient to pay for the privilege of an actual date.

It’s a funny notion, since I kinda get the impression that of all the members of the group, Damian has the largest fan base, and getting a girl would be no problem for him whatsoever. Just a very lighthearted song enhanced by jaunty piano and jazzy percussion. It’s one of my favorites on the album, and Damian sounds like he had a blast recording it. “Brother, you don't know a nicer occupation - / Matter of fact, neither do I - / Than standing on the corner watching all the girls, / Watching all the girls, watching all the girls go by.”

Surfer Medley (Surf City / Fun, Fun, Fun / Surfin’ USA) - One of Keith’s defining characteristics is the fact that he is an avid surfer, so it was only a matter of time before he took on the Beach Boys. A very energetic trio of songs, which is a nice change since Keith’s specialty is slower romantic ballads. Nice to hear him just have a little fun out there.

Sway - This Mexican-flavored song is one that has been covered by singers ranging from Dean Martin to Michael Buble. Like Doo Wacka Doo, the style is a bit of a departure for Paul, which I don‘t mind; it‘s nice to see him branching out more into other types of music. A nice mellow track. “When marimba rhythms start to play / Dance with me, make me sway. / Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore / Hold me close, sway me more.”

Everything I Do (I Do It For You) - There’s not even a hint of Bad Boy Ryan in this song. Nothin’ but Dreamboat in this song instantly recognizable to most of my generation as the theme to Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. Interestingly, Clay Aiken covered this on A Thousand Different Ways, and his version has a much more Celtic flavor to it than Ryan’s does. The instruments in this rendition are pretty understated, with just the guitar standing out as it does some unusual twanging from time to time.

But it’s Ryan’s earnest delivery, his smoky voice lingering over each pledge of devotion like mist over a Sherwood morning, that makes this track so irresistible. The healthy version of I’ll Be Watching You, with the speaker offering the best of himself for the sake of the one he loves instead of pining away as he peeks in her window. Meanwhile, my own heart goes pitter-pat... “Look into your heart. You will find / There's nothin' there to hide. / Take me as I am; take my life. / I would give it all. I would sacrifice.”

I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For - It’s generally best for the album to end with a bang, and boy does this one do that! What’s more, this time it pays tribute to U2, the band helmed by Irish megastar / philanthropist Bono. It’s an opportunity for more phenomenal harmony as the lads come together for the one track on the album that truly showcases everyone at once.

The driving jungle rhythm of those drums, beckoning to adventure! The swirling strings that race along like the winds that chase the Fellowship of the Ring and threaten to deter them from their journey! And of course, the voices of the seekers, bonded in a strange, wistful exuberance, frustrated by the lack of answers but taking true joy in the journey. Again, rather like LOST. I just hope this is not the song we’re singing after the series finale. “I have climbed highest mountain. / I have run through the fields / Only to be with you / Only to be with you...”

The lads may still be searching, but if what you’re looking for is a thoroughly charming accompaniment to your St. Patrick’s Day celebration, or an album to put a dash of green into any old day, perhaps your quest can end with It’s Entertainment.

A Modern-Day Job Faces Crippling Uncertainty in A Serious Man

Last week, my brother came home for Spring Break, and one of the first things on his agenda was seeing a couple more of the Oscar nominees before the Academy Awards. The last one we squeezed in was the Coen Brothers’ A Serious Man. I hadn’t heard much about this movie until Entertainment Weekly‘s Doc Jensen used it as a major point of reference in one of his recent LOST columns. Naturally, that got me intrigued, and when I watched the movie myself, I saw what he meant about all the connections between the dark comedy and the soon-to-be-over fantastical drama.

A Serious Man stars Michael Stuhlbarg as Larry Gopnik, a mild-mannered Jewish physics professor whose life begins to unravel as disasters pile up. His wife (Sari Lennick) is having an affair. One of his students (David Tang) is failing his course and is not about to docilely accept an “F”. His brother (Richard Kind) has moved in with him and, on top of his many problems, has a tendency to monopolize the bathroom for hours at a time. His kids (Aaron Wolff and Jessica McManus) are both self-involved brats. And then people start dropping dead around him...

Larry is a meek mouse of a man who doesn’t understand why all of these terrible things are happening to him. Hoping for a little perspective, he consults a series of rabbis, who offer advice that is more baffling than helpful. He longs to be “a serious man” like Sy (Fred Melamed), his wife’s corpulent lover, but the more he ponders, the more nonsensical it all seems. To make matters worse, he frequently has disorientingly vivid dreams, making it increasingly difficult for him to discern between reality and the byproducts of his tortured mind.

As I mentioned in my review of Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland, this question of what is real and what isn’t pervades LOST. Indeed, many still hold to the theory that none of the events on the Island have actually happened - that they are all a dream. Head writers Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse have promised that this will not be revealed to be the case. However, they also once promised that the series would never include time travel...

This is a movie steeped in Jewish culture, beginning with what looks like a folktale involving a Tevye-ish man, his Golde-ish wife and a mysterious visitor. This strange opening is never explained or even referenced again, and we’re left to ponder how it fits in, much as Larry must try to make sense of the rabbis’ words of wisdom. The cover of the DVD shows Larry on the roof, which again invites comparisons to Fiddler on the Roof, particularly Tevye’s remark that “Without our traditions, our lives would be as shaky as a fiddler on the roof!” Larry’s life is shaky indeed, and he’s hoping that the richness of those traditions will help to anchor him.

The first rabbi is the youthful Rabbi Scott, portrayed by Simon Helberg. As I’ve previously seen him as a lethargic sidekick to Dr. Horrible and a cheesy, girl-crazy scientist on The Big Bang Theory, I had to chuckle at the idea of him as a rabbi. Despite his relative inexperience, however, he seems fairly competent, and certainly passionate. He talks about the difficulty of seeing the divine at work in the world and the need for some perspective to make God’s presence clear. “You think, well, if I can't see Him, He isn't there any more, He's gone,” Scott says. “But that's not the case. You just need to remember how to see Him.”

On LOST, faith has been a prominent theme since the beginning, and now, partway into the final season, we’re seeing many characters wrestling with the very issue the young rabbi describes when it comes to the Island’s very own seemingly benevolent but aloof caretaker. The rabbi goes on to bring up the iconic Fate vs Free Will debate, and there’s a hint of John Locke in his assertion that everything that happens is an expression of God’s will. The bald boar-hunter would certainly agree that “You can't cut yourself off from the mystical or you'll be - you'll remain - completely lost.”

The second rabbi, Rabbi Nachter (George Wyner), is older and presumably more qualified to dole out sage advice. He decides to help out by telling Larry a long, convoluted story full of strange circumstances and presumed hidden meaning. But the tale ends with a series of questions to which he does not have any answers. He reminds me very much of Damon and Carlton, who have been fielding more angry inquiries than ever as to the meaning of this incredibly strange journey on which they’ve taken us. Many viewers fear that in the end, it’s not going to make any sense. Many threads will be left dangling, and like Larry, we’ll be left demanding, “It sounds like you don't know anything! Why even tell me the story?” What was the point of it all?

“Hashem doesn't owe us the answer,” the rabbi serenely advises him. LOST‘s Jacob isn’t big on distributing answers, which frustrates some and infuriates others. He generally prefers to leave the people under his dominion guessing, letting them work things out for themselves. He wants them to be “serious men,” to puzzle things out and to learn from the harrowing challenges they face. Like Larry, many of them seem to have Job-like misery inflicted upon them. How they respond to such tests is a mark of their resilience and their faith, however submerged it may be.

A Serious Man is a quiet kind of comedy, with plenty of dry laughs and even more room for rumination. It is less violent than No Country for Old Men but more profane, and arguably just as tragic. Nonetheless, there are uplifting moments, along with plenty of heady conversations, including a mention of Schrodinger’s Cat, which not only has LOST applicability but seems to have turned up in every bit of science fiction I’ve encountered in the past year. This thought experiment has to do with the possibility of multiple outcomes. As long as the box stays closed, one is free to assume that inside awaits a tranquil scene or a disaster. This is the type of uncertainty that pervades A Serious Man and LOST alike. Unsettling? Often. But also riveting.

Join Piggley and His Friends in a Treasure Hunt on Raloo Farm

Four years ago, I was delighted to discover the television show Jakers!: The Adventures of Piggley Winks. This charming computer-animated show with a rollicking theme song airs on PBS and features a cast of anthropomorphized farm animals living out a series of simple adventures in rural Ireland in the 1950s. The main characters are Piggley (Maile Flanagan), an imaginative pig, and his best friends Ferny (Russi Taylor), a timid bull, and Dannan (Tara Strong), a strong-willed duck.

Each tale is framed by present-day Piggley (Peadar Lamb), now a grandfather in America, using memories of his youth to impart entertaining lessons to the youngsters in his life. Grandpa Piggley is a mischievous storyteller fond of embellishments, so there is often a sense that these tales are a shade removed from reality. Treasure Hunt on Raloo Farm, one of several collections of thematically linked episodes, has an especially fantastical bent.

Treasure Hunt - Piggley’s grandsons Sean and Seamus (Nikka Futterman) are hiding from their mom, who wants them to clean their room, but Piggley tells a story to convince them to get on with the job. He recalls a time when he too wanted to avoid his chores, only to be tricked into doing them by his father (Charles Adler), who concocted a clever plan that allowed the work to get done while still letting Piggley and his friends have a good time. A cute episode with a bit of mystery mixed in, it also presents a neat idea that industrious parents might be inspired to try sometime.

Our Dragon’s Egg - The twins have found a baby bird, and they want to keep it as a pet. Piggley is sympathetic, but his own experience tells him that some animals are not meant for captivity. He recounts one long-ago day when he, Ferny and Dannan found what they believed to be a dragon egg. There’s both suspense and humor as we see the children try to find a suitable sitter for this misplaced egg, all the while fearing that it will gobble them up once it hatches, and a bit of a lesson once the occupant‘s true species is revealed. As a bonus, we get to hear Ferny sing and watch wisecracking sheep Wiley (Mel Brooks) get thrown into a tizzy as he comes to believe that he has miraculously become a mother.

Dannan Does a Jig - The twins are quarreling because they’re supposed to do a karate demonstration together, but one is much better at it than the other. What fun is it to perform in public when your skills are inferior? Piggley intends to demonstrate that it can be lots of fun no matter how talented you are. He remembers a time when Dannan’s grandmother, an accomplished Irish dancer, decided to give lessons to the schoolchildren. Dannan loved to dance, but her coordination was not up to speed with her exuberance, leading to embarrassment. A nice lesson in the joy of self-expression. Also, the music here is especially good, as there are several stretches of schoolteacher Mr. Hornsby playing a jig on the fiddle, and classroom bully Hector (Pamela Adlon) is surprised to discover that he has an aptitude for dance.

Growing Pains - Sean and Seamus resent the fact that their older sister is now allowed to stay up later than they are. Piggley lets them know that they shouldn’t be in any hurry to grow up. He reminisces about the time he was in charge of the farm for the day when his mother was out of town and his dad twisted his ankle. Dannan and Ferny are only minimally involved in this episode; we mostly see Piggley trying to hold down the fort all by himself while the mishaps pile up. Taking care of the farm turns out to be a lot more complicated than he thought, and on top of the chickens on the loose and water flooding the house, he has to deal with an extremely pregnant sheep. The most slapsticky of the four episodes, with a cascade of comical disasters.

Unfortunately, it seems that Jakers! is no longer in the regular lineup on our PBS station, but it’s nice to know that I can count on Netflix to deliver a quartet of engaging episodes whenever I get a longing for Piggley and his pals. Go searching for Treasure Hunt on Raloo Farm, and you’ll find a pot of gold.

Prepare to get LOST in Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland

As LOST winds to a close, I have found myself seeking comparisons with my favorite show in every movie that I watch. When it comes to Tim Burton’s vision of Alice in Wonderland, I hardly need to look. Indeed, it’s one of the reasons I was so interested in the movie, though I’ve always found various incarnations to be trippy to the point of being rather terrifying. Lewis Carroll’s classic story is indisputably one of LOST‘s key texts, having been referenced explicitly in two episode titles (White Rabbit and Through the Looking Glass) and multiple times within the show.

The very first image in the series is of heroic doctor Jack Shephard opening his eyes in the middle of the jungle. There exists the possibility that the series could end this way, with the implication that all six seasons have been a dream. While I will feel extremely cheated if this is the case, the heavy influence of Alice in Wonderland makes me nervous, especially when coupled with another key text, The Wizard of Oz, which happens to be the next movie Tim Burton is thinking of helming. While in the books, Oz is a real place, the iconic 1939 film implies that it’s just as much a dream as Wonderland is in the book.

In Burton’s film, it’s never entirely clear whether Wonderland is, in fact, a dream. We never see Alice fall asleep or wake up. But as in The Wizard of Oz, connections are drawn between several people from her everyday life and various characters she meets in Wonderland. Moreover, throughout her adventure, she repeatedly insists that she is in a dream. At one point, she and the Mad Hatter (Johnny Depp), who in this version is her most cherished Wonderland companion, share a conversation about the subject. She informs him that he is a figment of her imagination, and that only someone half-mad like her could have dreamed him up, which is strikingly similar to what Hurley tells Libby in Dave, the season two episode that either debunks an unpalatable theory or explains the series. “In real life,” Hurley says, “no girl like you would ever like me. Remember when I said I knew you from somewhere? Well, maybe it's because I made you up.”

Hurley is the character most associated with childlike innocence but also with mental instability. In season four, he theorizes that only he, Ben and John are able to see the elusive cabin in the jungle because they are the craziest. Could all of the bizarre happenings on the Island be the product of a deranged mind? The same question applies to Wonderland. Mia Wasikowska is luminous as Alice, a confused young woman who is overwhelmed by the world around her and the responsibilities being forced upon her. Easily distracted by her daydreams, she possesses an independent spirit unwelcome in her stuffy society.

Burton does his best to make the Wonderland to which she escapes look and sound as disorienting as possible. Depp, who is so adept at portraying vividly eccentric characters, embodies the insanity of this world as a man prone to lapsing into strings of incoherent psychobabble. And even when his tongue doesn’t run away with his mind, everything he says is as off-kilter as his voice, which is sometimes a guttural Scottish growl, sometimes a lisping whisper. Meanwhile, he repeatedly poses the query, “Have you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?”, a riddle which, like many of the mysteries on LOST, seems to have no solution.

On LOST, the first explicit reference to Alice in Wonderland comes when Jack pursues his deceased father through the jungle and John compares the specter to the White Rabbit (Michael Sheen). Alice, too, has lost her father, the one person in her life who understood her and regarded her “madness” as a mark of a superior mind. As she chases this strange creature, one might say that she, too, is seeking her father, or at least a connection with their shared sense of the fantastic.

Alice finds herself in a world ruled over by two queens of opposing dispositions. The Red Queen (Helena Bonham-Carter, one of four Harry Potter alums in the film) is an unstable tyrant prone to doling out violent punishments. Meanwhile the White Queen (Anne Hathaway), all grace and benevolence, resides in a kingdom reminiscent of Tolkien’s Elven haven Rivendell. She strives against her sister but is incapable of harming another, nor will she force anyone else to do so, although her desires are usually fairly evident. These white and red monarchs are much like the white and black figures controlling so many of the events on the Island, and when Alice explodes in frustration that ever since her arrival in Wonderland she has been told what to do and who to be, it sounds an awful lot like LOST‘s driving Fate vs Free Will debate.

Another recurring theme on the show has to do with characters on the Island crossing paths back in the everyday world. There’s a sense that even if there is a multiplicity of worlds, these particular people are destined to always be a part of one another’s lives. The first character to state this explicitly is conflicted torturer Sayid’s star-crossed love Nadia, but starting with the second season, the sentiment becomes the catchphrase of unanchored Scotsman Desmond. “See you in another life,” he says, time and again. In the movie, Absolem the Caterpillar (Alan Rickman), a creature inextricably linked with the notion of transformation, repeats this very phrase after explaining to Alice that she arrived as the “wrong Alice” but is now her proper self. Another driving theme in LOST involves flawed characters embracing the best of themselves as a result of many trials.

Of course, though I recommend it particularly to fans of the show, you don’t have to watch LOST to appreciate this movie. It offers a new twist on an old tale and does so with plenty of eye-popping spectacle. Though the 3-D elements seem less organic than in Avatar, they add to the fun, particularly whenever the March Hare (Paul Whitehouse) takes it into his head to lob a piece of dinnerware in the audience’s direction. The film often feels freakish, but as I remarked to my parents, any worthwhile adaptation of Alice in Wonderland is going to wind up looking a lot like an acid trip. It’s a strange, strange journey, but it’s one worth making, especially if you, like Alice and her father, have ever had the inclination to believe six impossible things before breakfast.

The Good Humor Man Doesn't Put Me In a Bad Humor

LOST is my favorite show on television, now or ever, and it has given me dozens of characters in whom to become emotionally invested. Among those, it’s pretty much impossible to choose a single favorite, but one of the top contenders has always been Hugo “Hurley” Reyes, a huggable teddy bear of a guy who can always be counted upon to deliver a laugh and a whole lot of love. He’s played by Jorge Garcia, whose list of other roles is limited to 20 or so. Only three of his movies are available on Netflix, and one is a Christmas movie, so I decided to go ahead and rent the other two in order to give me a bit of Jorge in another context.

Little Athens arrived first, and I found it tedious in every respect. Hoping for better luck, I popped in The Good Humor Man. It came out the same year - 2005 - and received the same rating - R. Both movies include nudity, drug use, violence and excessive profanity. The difference is that The Good Humor Man, written and directed by Tenney Fairchild, also has a decent story.

Jay (Nathan Stevens) is a run-of-the-mill high school student. He’s a bit of a loser, in love with a girl way out of his league and getting a charge out of such pranks as dumping fake vomit over his fellow cinema-goers from the balcony before bolting. His best friend is a slacker nicknamed Mt. Rushmore (Garcia).

The two of them hang out with an assortment of burnouts that includes Jason Segel as the cantankerous Smelly Bob, which strengthens the connection between this movie and the superior series Freaks and Geeks. Like Lindsay Weir, Jay doesn’t feel entirely comfortable with these delinquents, but he spends time with them anyway, at least until something happens to make him seriously question the company he keeps.

There are some movies in which an R rating seems inevitable and appropriate, but as I watched, I couldn’t help thinking that all of the elements that make The Good Humor Man deserving of that rating are unnecessary. I would have much preferred the movie if it had been a little bit less abrasive. Freaks and Geeks never needed a flurry of colorful metaphors or bare bosoms to feel thoroughly realistic.

That said, I found Jay a very likable character, and the same goes for his crush Wendy (Cameron Richardson), a sweet girl who soon proves to be more than just a pretty face. As with Little Athens, I was disappointed that Garcia’s role was smaller than I’d expected, but I found this character much more sympathetic, albeit still not nearly as endearing as Hurley. I also loved Kelsey Grammer’s brief appearance in the role of Jay’s supportive, thoroughly PG-rated father.

It could be that my distaste for Little Athens caused me to enjoy this movie more than I otherwise might have. But while I could have done without all the swearing, I did find it to be entirely watchable. If you want a really great peek into the lives of high schoolers in the late 1970s / early 1980s, check out Freaks and Geeks. But if you’re willing to settle for just good, The Good Humor Man delivers.

Rehashing the 2010 Academy Awards

In 2008, I was more prepared for the Oscars than I’ve ever been. I’m thinking that record will stand for quite a while; I certainly didn’t approach it this year. Prior to the 82nd Academy Awards, I saw only eight of the nominated films, though there were several others I had planned to watch. I’ll have to play catch-up later. Still, I was informed enough to have an idea of who might take home the gold in most of the categories.

The ceremony seemed on the long side, but I really can’t think of anything I would have cut, except the horror tribute and perhaps the Best Score dance sequences, and I would have replaced those with the ousted Best Song performances, which would have taken longer anyway. I thought that kicking things off with a showy song-and-dance number from Neil Patrick Harris was hilarious, definitely a fun way to start the show, and Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin consistently made me laugh throughout the night.

The one actor I was whole-heartedly rooting for this year was Christoph Waltz, whose performance in Quentin Tarantino’s Nazi farce mesmerized me, before I had ever heard anything about him. As genteel and loquacious as Anton Chigurh was silently menacing, he created one of the most chilling characters I have ever seen on film. Waltz, meanwhile, is a hard-working actor who has been in the business for decades and is just now receiving widespread recognition. He seems like an incredibly sweet, humble, articulate man, and I was unsurprised at the eloquence of his speech, having seen him deliver one of the few truly rehearsed speeches at the Golden Globes. I can’t help wondering what kind of psychological effects playing such a despicable character would have on such a nice person. I couldn’t help noticing that after they showed the clip from The Lovely Bones, Stanley Tucci looked utterly disgusted by his own performance as a serial killer specializing in young girls.

I hadn’t seen any of the nominated films for the Best Supporting Actress category, but Mo’Nique seemed to have been getting most of the attention. Precious is definitely on my list of movies to see, and it looks like she gave a powerhouse performance. I also enjoyed her speech, though I preferred the one at the Golden Globes. Part of me wanted to see Gabourey Sidibe win for Best Actress, though this is her very first movie, and she still has plenty of opportunities down the road. She seems like an incredibly mature, poised young woman; I’ve been very impressed with what I’ve seen of her so far. I’ve also heard great things about the movie, and the fact that it won for Best Adapted Screenplay makes me want to see it even more.

I loved Up so much that I wanted it to win Best Picture. I didn’t expect that to happen. But I thoroughly anticipated it winning Best Animated Feature Film. I enjoyed the animated segments with characters from the nominated movies that preceded the announcement, and as always, the master filmmaker from Pixar gave a great speech. Up was pretty much a perfect movie, so it was lovely to see it acknowledged as such up on stage. And because I was so sure it would win for the feature, I was even more excited that it won for Best Score. I thought the music for that movie was brilliant; well, of course it was, as it was written by Michael Giacchino, the genius behind the music of LOST. And though his speech was quite short, it was one of my favorites of the night. Michael Giacchino’s parents rock.

Honoring one’s parents seemed to be a big theme of the night. Sandra Bullock and Jeff Bridges both gave emotionally-charged speeches thanking their parents for all of their help and inspiration. Always a nice acknowledgement. I almost saw The Blind Side for free in a preview showing locally but by the time I got out to get my tickets, they were gone. I still meant to catch it in the theater but never did. I’d also like to see Crazy Heart, which from what I’ve seen reminds me of Tender Mercies.

I really did miss the Best Song performances, especially since I hadn’t heard any of the movies containing those songs. Evidently Crazy Heart really delivered on that score. I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that one of the writers of the winning song - the lyricist, I presume - would come up with what I thought was the best line of the night: “I love you more than rainbows.” Now that is a romantic statement worthy of John Denver.

Speaking of John Denver, another of my favorite musicians got to do the In Memoriam segment. I thought James Taylor might do Fire and Rain; couldn’t really think of another of his songs that seemed memorial-ish. But his rendition of the Beatles’ In My Life was simply beautiful, and he was looking quite classy in that tuxedo. Also, thankfully, the camera didn’t swoop around the stage like it did last year, so it was perfectly easy to read the names. Of course, a few ended up getting omitted, and I’ve seen a lot of grumbling over Michael Jackson being included, but he was in a handful of movies, and at any rate I feel like more people would’ve objected if he’d been left out.

The tribute to John Hughes was quite extensive, and it was moving to see both the clips from his movies and so many of the people he helped turn into stars standing up there and honoring him. I thought it was rather annoying, though, that they kept cutting to the Disney channel and Twilight gang, who looked like they had no idea who John Hughes even was. Are they trying to make us all feel really old?

But they were not the most childish guests in attendance that night. That award would have to go to Elinor Burkett, who shoved her way into the middle of Roger Ross Williams’ speech for Best Documentary Short Subject, completely hijacking his moment. Evidently she was involved in the movie but dropped out due to creative differences. Clearly that rift remains. Really weird moment reminiscent of the famous Kanye West debacle.

As usual, I was pretty much unfamiliar with all those short films, along with the foreign films and documentaries. I actually had heard of The Cove, but only because I’d seen it at the video store the day before. It was about the only Oscar contender in stock at Family Video, but we gave Blockbuster a try and managed to snag copies of The Hurt Locker, Julie and Julia and A Serious Man. So we didn’t go for the movie about dolphin slaughter, but I might have to amend that sometime if I think I can stomach it. Fisher Stevens was the second member of the LOST family to take home an Oscar. I had no idea he was a producer or that he was so passionate about dolphins. Up until a couple of years ago, I associated him exclusively with Short Circuit, in which he plays the hilarious Ben Jabituya, a scientist of ambiguous ethnicity. But in 2008, he joined LOST as George Minkowski, a friendly communications expert who runs afoul of the weird temporal displacement that also afflicts Desmond. It was good to see him again. How about a brief repeat appearance on LOST?

When it comes to LOST resonance, A Serious Man probably ranks highest in the list of nominated movies. But it didn’t win anything, sadly. I was rooting for Best Screenplay, but that went to The Hurt Locker, which turned out to be the big winner of the night. It also took home the statues for Editing, Sound Mixing and Sound Editing. I was glad that Star Trek managed to win at least one of the technical awards, for Makeup. It’s hard to believe that the franchise has never picked one up before, especially for Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan. I’d never even heard of The Young Victoria, which got the Best Costume Design nod. I thought it was nice that Sandy Powell mentioned those who work on less eye-catching movies, but on the whole I found her speech obnoxious. Maybe the Academy did too; she seemed to get played off the stage pretty quickly.

Another movie with several LOST parallels is Avatar, which picked up three awards and was the subject of a couple of amusing gags, one by the hosts and one by Ben Stiller, who was all decked out as a Na’vi, complete with blue skin, yellow eyes and adorable ears, not to mention that massive braid and his attempt at approximating the invented language. James Cameron’s ultra-big-budget movie won for Best Art Direction, Visual Effects and Cinematography, and it should have, because whatever you think of the story, you have to admit that the look was pretty eye-popping.

I’m glad that I got The Hurt Locker in at the last minute. While I’m not much for war movies, I agree it was very well done, and it was pretty cool to see a woman take the Best Directing prize - though, oddly enough, for a movie geared mostly toward men. In any event, Kathryn Bigelow seemed thrilled, both for the Best Directing and Best Picture nods. I had to laugh at the swiftness of Tom Hanks’ presentation. Talk about no build-up! Was he always expecting to zoom through that so quickly or was it just because the telecast was running so long? Threw me for a loop.

On the whole, an enjoyable ceremony. I liked the hosts and the tribute speeches, and I was satisfied with the winners. And now, I have to go see a lot more movies...

Special Forces Try to Avoid Explosive Endings in The Hurt Locker

On Saturday, my brother proposed renting an Oscar movie so that we could get in a little last-minute cramming. “Works for me,” I said. “As long as it’s not something depressing like The Hurt Locker.” He then proceeded to tell me that The Hurt Locker was precisely what he had in mind, and as he’s home on spring break, I didn’t want to be a stick-in-the-mud.

Ryan Kelly, my favorite member of Celtic Thunder, had endorsed it as “certainly up there with Saving Private Ryan and Platoon as my favorite war movies.” Well, I hated Saving Private Ryan, except for Tom Hanks and Jeremy Davies, whose characters’ arcs ended in a most distressing fashion, and I couldn’t get through Platoon. “Hurt Locker will probably not be everyone’s cup of tea,” Ryan conceded when he tweeted his praise of the film. I was sure it wouldn’t be mine.

I can’t say it’s a movie I have any desire to watch again. But was it done well? Was there edge-of-the-seat action? Did Kathryn Bigelow deserve to become the first woman to win Best Director? Yes. Yes. And probably yes. She certainly gave me the sense that we were right there in Iraq with the specialists risking their lives at every turn to diffuse bombs. The movie almost felt more like a documentary than a traditional film. And while I was still stubbornly rooting for UP for Best Picture and probably enjoyed The Hurt Locker the least out of the Best Picture contenders I saw, I don’t begrudge the movie the win there either.

The Hurt Locker stars Jeremy Renner as SSG William James, who comes across as a slightly mad adrenaline junkie who is nonetheless very good at his job. He’s paired up with Sgt. J. T. Sanborn (Anthony Mackie), who’s been in Iraq longer and fears his new partner is a bit of a loose cannon. Naturally, over the course of the movie, the very different men come to respect one another as they cheat death together.

While I was unfamiliar with Renner and have only seen Mackie in a couple of movies, and didn’t recognize him off the bat, there are several big names in this film, but they only pop in for a few moments. In the beginning, we have Guy Pearce as the man Will comes in to replace. David Morse and Robert Duvall put in similarly brief appearances, and Evangeline Lilly has a few short scenes as Will‘s ex-wife Connie. Her presence in the film prompted many LOSTies to make the Hurt Locker / Avatar showdown not just a rivalry between Bigelow and James Cameron but also between Kate Austen and AnaLucia Cortez.

Cinematographer Barry Ackroyd, filming in Jordan and Kuwait, creates the ultimate tourist repellant for Iraq. The desolation is palpable, with everything shrouded in dust and concealed weapons on every corner. For a war movie, I found it surprisingly quiet, as the film simply follows these men in their everyday lives, which just happen to sometimes include pulse-pounding danger. There’s not a lot of one side fighting another as such; in this movie, the Americans we see are almost entirely about the preservation of life. Those who plant the bombs are usually out of the picture, having left their special deliveries in the ground or strapped to some hapless victim.

This film serves as a powerful reminder that not all suicide bombers have a choice in the matter. The Hurt Locker gives us two heartbreaking examples of this, in the form of Beckham (Christopher Sayegh), a plucky local boy William befriends, and a father who appeals to the bomb squad for help after getting rigged up with a thoroughly alarming contraption. The latter is perhaps the most intense scene of the movie, and it reminds me eerily of my hometown’s most morbid claim to fame, being the site of the 2003 Pizza Bomber Incident. I was just a couple of blocks away when the drama unfolded on upper Peach Street as pizza deliveryman Brian Wells, having just held up a bank under orders from a crazed conspirator, was cornered by police and, revealing that he was locked into a bomb, proceeded to beg for his life. Watching the film, I couldn’t help thinking that if Erie’s bomb squad had been summoned as quickly and responded as passionately as William and J. T., the outcome could have been much different. Chilling.

The Hurt Locker is a downer of a movie. It’s gritty and profane and violent. But it’s also extremely compelling, and even inspiring to think of the risks these soldiers embrace as they seek to diffuse as many bombs as they can in their tours of duty. Even for those like William who thrive on the thrill this omnipresent danger delivers, there’s a lot to be said for that kind of bravery and willingness to sacrifice one‘s life in an effort to make the world safer.

Get Inspired By Two Dream-Chasers in Julie and Julia

The Oscars are right around the corner. I find myself woefully unprepared this year, but a couple weeks ago I managed to cross one more contender off my list. It’s a movie that I suspect will inspire many a delicious delicacy at Oscar parties across the country: Julie and Julia.

This film, written and directed by Nora Ephron and based on the book by Julie Powell, tracks the journeys of two women from frustrated obscurity to culinary greatness. Julie (Amy Adams) is an aspiring writer who spends her days as a receptionist fielding angry phone calls from New Yorkers still reeling from 9-11. She longs to do something different, something that will inflame her passions and give her something to look forward to after a difficult day. The solution? A blog.

The subject of the blog? Cooking her way through Mastering the Art of French Cooking, the magnum opus of kitchen virtuoso Julia Child (Meryl Streep). As Julie embraces this project, eventually winning oodles of followers and becoming so caught up in it that it begins to put stresses on her marriage, we see the struggles Julia herself went through as she took up French cooking and embarked on her cookbook project with two friends. This portion of the movie is based on her memoir My Life in France.

I’ve found Adams endearing in nearly every role she’s taken on, and while she doesn’t quite have the charm here that she does in such films as Enchanted and Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, she seems like a likable enough young woman, and I can certainly relate to the desire to make a name for oneself as a writer through online efforts. At the same time, Julie has some negative characteristics, such as a tendency toward egotism, that are amplified by her endeavor, which makes her jocular husband Eric (Chris Messina) all the more appealing. A light-hearted and very supportive man, he truly is the glue holding Julie’s life together.

But even he pales in comparison to the gentlemanly, erudite, utterly devoted Paul Child, portrayed by the magnificent Stanley Tucci. This was a man with an impressive career of his own who never sought to keep his wife in the shadows, who always encouraged her to pursue her dreams. This was also a man with great integrity whose diplomatic views earned him one doozy of an interrogation by Senator Joseph McCarthy’s ilk. It’s easy to understand how Julia would have blossomed so brilliantly when sharing a life with such a remarkable fellow.

The incomparable Streep, who starred in Doubt with Adams last year and The Devil Wears Prada with Tucci in 2006, has been getting plenty of raves for her performance, all of them well-deserved, as she completely immerses herself in the role, to the extent that I almost forget who the actress is behind the portrayal. Her voice, mannerisms, inflections, body language... All of it makes her a thoroughly convincing version of the famous chef, and because she is such a distinct character, there’s a lot of humor to be mined from her story. Julia’s joie de vivre comes across perfectly, and more often than not, her escapades bring a big smile to the face.

This is a beautifully shot film that makes one want to go to France and to attempt cooking French cuisine oneself. Rarely has a movie taken such care to make food look so enticing, so that one can almost smell it as it sits simmering on the table. Of course, there are a few disasters too, and a very funny scene involving an unfortunate excess of onions. But whatever is on the menu, Julie and Julia serves up a treat.

The Irish Piper Went to Hamelin and Made a Big Impact...

On my favorite Irish Rovers album, the hard-to-find Tales to Warm Your Mind, the lads sing a song entitled The Minstrel of Cranberry Lane. This ballad does not involve rats, but it does feature an eccentric, exceptionally talented gentleman who lures children away from the prosaic town that so stifles them. It’s clear our sympathies are meant to lie with the singer.

I was interested, as I read the note at the back of Jim Latimer’s The Irish Piper, to discover that in the first stories about the Pied Piper of Hamelin, the piper merely breezes into town and lures away the children, without the motivation of having been cheated out of pay for a job well done with the rats. It makes the Rovers’ song seem even more connected to the story than before.

The Irish Piper, which is illustrated by John O’Brien, sticks more closely to Robert Browning’s version of the story than that, but this version is written in prose rather than rhyme, and it includes some very specific details about the musician’s origins and the type of music he might have played. Latimer also takes the liberty of making the mayor into a woman, which surprised me a bit as the story takes place hundreds of years ago, and of introducing a love interest for the piper.

Like Browning’s tale, Latimer’s is sprinkled with quite a bit of humor, and on the whole it’s not as dark. For instance, the story never confirms that the rats the piper leads away from town are drowned in the river; rather, it implies that he merely directs them to some distant land where they might make a life for themselves without being such nuisances.

Additionally, not only are the members of the town council disdainful of their hero, they badmouth their own children. In an amusing twist, they are already familiar with stories of the piper recruiting children, but they are convinced that such things would not happen in real life, especially since the kids are “mostly brats” and surely wouldn’t be much fun to travel with. In light of this kind of talk, it’s little wonder the children would be eager for a chance to get out of town.

As an enthusiast of Irish music, I can definitely buy into the author’s notion that the music of Country Clare “is magical and alluring... has grace and freedom... has breathless energy and heart-stopping rhythm... might easily have charmed all of the rats and all of the children of Hamelin.” He describes the music’s effects beautifully, too, talking about how he his sad songs “could make a group of gruff, grown men suddenly burst into tears” and his strong marches could “cause little husbands to stand up and talk back to their wives, even when the wives were blacksmiths and hammer throwers.” To say nothing of his “flying” music, and his extra-special “cheese-and-bacon” reel, intended for the rats, and “balloon-and-butterfly” jig, meant for the children.

O’Brien’s illustrations have an antiquated look about them and seem to have been done at least in part with a thought for imitating Kate Greenaway’s style in the iconic Robert Browning version. The colors are a bit on the drab side, but the pictures are detailed and, like the writing, have touches of humor. Still, as with Browning, it’s the particular way in which this very old story is written that really tickles my fancy. If it’s a tale that’s ever appealed to you, check out The Irish Piper this St. Patrick’s Day and allow his music to carry you away.

Let Richard Alpert Serve As Your Island Guide

“What lies in the shadow of the statue?” This is one of the most important question introduced in season five of LOST. Richard Alpert has the answer. In case you missed it in the season finale, you can consult his bobblehead, where the correct response is all spelled out for you in thin black letters atop a jungle-print base with the enigmatic character’s name on the front. The five all-important words: “Ille qui nos omnes servabit.” Which is very helpful if you happen to speak Latin. If you don’t, some further investigation is warranted...

I know what lies in the shadow of the statue. But that’s all I’ll say on the matter. Now, allow me to discuss the beauteous specimen that is Richard Alpert, the soft-spoken, rarely rattled, apparently ageless Other who was first introduced in the third season. Back then, though he seemed all politeness and decency, I was wary of him. After all, he was teamed up with Ethan, who also seemed pretty affable, and we all know what kind of shenanigans he got up to back on the Island. Mostly, though, I got the sense that he orchestrated Juliet’s ex-husband getting hit by a bus. And while he was obnoxious, I can’t condone those sorts of persuasive tactics.

I’m not sure now whether Richard caused the accident, but even if he did, I have ultimately decided to put my trust in this advisor who seems to know a lot more about what’s going on than almost anybody else on the Island, though this may not actually be the case. In his various appearances over the seasons, he has shown himself again and again to be reasonable and diplomatic, only resorting to violence when he deems it unavoidable - and not having the power to veto bad decisions his leaders might make. I applaud Nestor Carbonell for helping ensure that Richard’s story is one of the most compelling mysteries to be solved in season six. My understanding is that the show will shed some light soon. I can hardly wait.

Richard, it would appear, is a Man of Faith, to an even greater degree than John Locke. At the same time, he has been known to manipulate various characters over the years, particularly when he suggested to John that he have Sawyer kill Anthony Cooper. It seems that he’s probably given as many nudges in a particular direction as almost anyone on the show. But I don’t think that makes him a bad guy. In this bobblehead, he stands with a torch in hand, which brings to mind notions of illumination and, for me, of angels. Richard, I think, occupies a similar role in the show’s mythology.

Including the base, he stands nearly seven inches tall. He wears dark brown shoes, light brown pants and a gray button-up shirt, along with a brown belt. He rather resembles an outback adventurer. Actually, come to think of it, he kinda looks like Survivor host Jeff Probst, standing there with one arm at his side, another carrying the torch aloft - ready to banish someone from the Island?

Nestor’s arresting eyes have inspired much debate among viewers since his first appearance. They are so heavily lidded that it looks as though he is wearing eyeliner. Could he be? According to Entertainment Weekly, no. But boy, does he have distinctive eyes, and distilled into a mildly cartoonish three-dimensional figure, Richard almost looks like he picked up a trick pair of binoculars and hasn’t bothered to wash off the resulting ink yet. His hair is neat, his eyebrows are thick, and his face wears a placid expression. He’s an impressive sight.

He doesn’t speak, though having that phrase painted on the base is almost as good as having words come out of his mouth. I sent him off to school with my dad, a college professor, in hopes he might inspire some interesting conversations. Cool points to any students who realize what show Richard is from without sneaking a peek at the back of the base. Double cool points to anyone who knows what question he is answering, or what the answer means.

Richard Alpert has proven to be one of LOST‘s most fascinating characters, and I expect that after we’ve discovered everything there is to learn about him, he will seem even cooler. Here’s to you, Ricardus. Live long and prosper - but then that’s a blessing that seems to have worked its will upon you already...

If Anything Goes Wrong, Daniel Faraday Will Be My Constant

“I can make time.” So said the pint-sized piano prodigy version of LOST‘s quirky quantum physicist Daniel Faraday in The Variable, his only truly centric episode. Four short words with multiple meanings. They remind me both of his desire to balance scientific achievement with artistic pursuits and, later, romance, and they also bring to mind his experiments with temporal displacement and his efforts to change the course of time in order to alter the fate of someone he loves.

Daniel Faraday was the first really major new character introduced in the fourth season. He made a bumpy, parachute-assisted landing on the Island and yanked off his helmet, asking, through a rain-drenched haze, “Are you Jack?” He bore a slight resemblance to Charlie - and like Charlie, he possessed considerable musical talent, though we wouldn’t discover that until much later.

My almost immediate thought was that I wanted to trust him; in the next episode, we glimpsed him in the recent past, bewilderedly bawling his eyes out over footage of the found Oceanic 815 wreckage. I thought, “Surely a guy with that depth of empathy can’t be evil.” And everything about him seemed so endearing. And yet we were meant to believe the freighter was bad news, and by extension, everyone on it. At this stage of the game, I’m prepared to say that about four people on that boat were murderous maniacs but everyone else was pretty much okay, and Daniel was so much more. Losing Charlie was worth it to gain Daniel.

At this late date, I’ve come to suspect that Daniel - seriously troubled family history aside - is the character in LOST with whom I most identify. Not that I’m some kind of super-genius or anything. But there’s something in his sweet, twitchy, perpetually out-to-lunch manner that I feel I can understand all too well. In a cast full of exceptional actors, only Terry O’Quinn and Michael Emerson have impressed me more than Jeremy Davies. His intense, nuanced performance could have earned him an Emmy if only he’d been given a little more screen time.

Bif Bang Pow!’s Daniel Faraday bobblehead captures Daniel in the episode that virtually removed all doubt as to his benevolence. In The Constant, we got to see him as a long-haired mad scientist conducting covert experiments “that Oxford frowns upon”. Experiments involving migrating consciousness and a rat named Eloise, a moniker we would later learn was loaded with significance. Daniel is uniquely equipped to serve as Desmond’s guide in his disorienting time-leaping adventure. It’s ultimately up to Penny, the love of Desmond’s life, to keep his brain from melting into a puddle of goo, but without Daniel’s guidance, he never would have made it as far as his one true love. Daniel saved Desmond’s life, and that wins him about a thousand cool points in my book.

Like fellow bobbleheads Edgar Halliwax, Richard Alpert and Benjamin Linus, Daniel stands just under seven inches tall, including his base, which is arguably the coolest of the lot - the journal in which he is always scribbling down the ideas that go “way over” the heads of folks like Frank Lapidus, and most of us. Also in the journal: a note from his mother indicating that she will always love him and a note to himself that if anything goes wrong, Desmond will be his constant. That is one iconic prop. It’s brown and embossed with a fancy, swirly design on the top. “Daniel Faraday” is featured in raised white letters on the front, which is the journal’s binding, while the back has “LOST” against the white of the book’s pages.

Daniel himself is dressed in a rather confusing manner befitting the episode. He seems to reside in two different timelines, for Eloise rests calmly on his shoulder, but his sturdy light brown shoes, black pants, pale blue shirt, practical many-pocketed vest and amusingly ever-present black tie are all Island attire. The wristwatch on his left hand serves as a reminder of the importance of time to this character. The journal makes a repeat performance, held aloft in a dramatic pose rather reminiscent of Hamlet and Yorick’s skull. Sadly, this mini-version lacks the cover detail of the stand, and though it’s open, no discernible words are inside. I would have loved to see the “Desmond Hume will be my constant” line in there.

Daniel’s face is something of a puzzle too, since his hair seems about halfway between his fairly short Island hair and his long, hipster-ish Oxford hair. The seamless beard-and-mustache combo is neat and trimmed, the expression inscrutable. Both eyes are squinty, as though he is in the midst of thinking very hard about something. No doubt an epiphany is imminent.

If I had to choose a favorite among the four LOST bobbleheads produced thus far, Daniel would probably be it. I might also venture a guess that he’s a bit sturdier, as Daniel, Richard and Edgar arrived in the mail together, and while the latter two were broken, the fantastic Faraday was flawless. I must take a moment to commend the ABC store here because as soon as I contacted them about my broken bobbleheads, they sent new, more properly packaged ones out. In less than a week, I had them in my hands, this time free of blemishes.

The full ramifications of Daniel’s decisions late in season five remain to be seen. Whatever happens, however, Daniel stands near the very top of my hierarchy of LOST characters, and it feels more than fitting to have him bobbing his head agreeably at me as I sit down to the instrument he so adored.

Do Not Attempt Time-Traveling Bunny Experiments Without Dr. Edgar Halliwax

It’s tough economic times right now, and like everyone else, I am generally trying to be as frugal as possible. Alas, I have a weakness: collectibles. And Bif Bang Pow! has seen fit to tempt me with a series of LOST bobbleheads. Currently, there are four, but at least one more is coming this summer, and I suspect that one will soon be joined by at least a couple of others.

When I found out about these bobbleheads, I knew that I would be buying Daniel Faraday and Richard Alpert, two of the show’s most fascinating characters. I wasn’t so sure about Dr. Edgar Halliwax, one of the many DHARMA filmstrip pseudonyms of Pierre Chang, the enigmatic man finally revealed in season five as ghost-whispering freighter fella Miles’ father. While I like the whole parent-child reconciliation angle and have found the filmstrips intriguing, I confess he’s not a character I’ve really connected with.

Nonetheless, I decided I couldn’t leave him out in the cold. So I purchased Edgar, or Mark, or Marvin, or Pierre, and he now stands on my piano with his fellow bobbling Island-dwellers. The reason he is identified not as Pierre but as Edgar is that he is caught in a moment from the filmstrip in which that pseudonym is introduced.

In this ominous video, he holds a white rabbit with a number 15 on the side while he speaks of the mysterious properties of the Orchid station, which facilitates time travel. He then proceeds to freak out because there are suddenly two #15 bunnies in the same room; as Back to the Future‘s Doc Brown could tell you, that right there is a recipe for disaster.

Including the black base, which, in white, has “Dr. Edgar Halliwax” on the front, “LOST” on the back and a generic DHARMA symbol on the top, this bobblehead stands nearly seven inches tall. Edgar has black shoes, grayish pants and a white lab coat with an Orchid patch on it. He wears a yellow tie with blue and black stripes, and in his arms, he cradles the red-eyed bunny with the 15 written on its side. His hands are clearly visible and are the same fleshy tone as his face, which looks characteristically serious. His lips are slightly parted, as if he’s about to say something important, and his left eyebrow is slightly arched while the eye beneath it bulges just a bit, as if to imply a Spockian “Fascinating.”

Like the other bobbleheads in this series, Edgar is frustratingly silent, though as I can’t really think of too many iconic lines from him, especially if it’s just going to be limited to this filmstrip, it doesn’t really bother me much. I find it a little curious that he was chosen for bobblehead representation when he is really a pretty minor character, but he is mythologically significant, as are the other characters depicted thus far. If he turns up on the show again, I feel that thanks to Bif Bang Pow!, I will have a deeper appreciation for him.

As bobbleheads go, Edgar is quite realistic-looking, and it must be a treat for Francois Chau to see his likeness preserved in such a manner. I have a hunch Edgar, priced at twelve dollars, is the least popular of the line thus far, but for those as deeply immersed in the show as I am, this no-nonsense scientist is a good guy to have looking over your shoulder.