Number 2800: LOST's Sixth Season Brings the Series to a Compelling Conclusion

This year marked the end of an era for me. In the past decade, I have had the pleasure of getting swept away in three epics: the Harry Potter book series, the Lord of the Rings movie series and the television series LOST. Thanks to Dominic Monaghan, who played the hobbit Merry Brandybuck in LotR and the rocker Charlie Pace in LOST, I segued quite naturally into the television show, whose plane-crashing-on-an-island premise also intrigued me greatly. Now that it’s over, I’m feeling adrift indeed, left without a suitable replacement. But boy, what a ride it’s been!

LOST is a series that inspired an almost unprecedented amount of fan speculation and interaction. Its extremely serial nature helped usher in the phenomenon of putting television shows online so that people could get caught up if they missed an episode on the night it aired. It incorporated Alternate Reality Games (some, annoyingly, only accessible to owners of Blu-Ray players) and mini-episodes intended to be watched on one’s phone. Hundreds of bloggers and television columnists, most notably Doc Jensen of Entertainment Weekly, pored over every detail in the series, formulating complex theories, while many others expressed their love for LOST via artwork, desktop backgrounds, custom t-shirts, music videos and other fan projects.

I hashed each episode out with friends; basked in the brilliance of the Injustice League’s I’ll Never Be LOST Again; bought goodies from my favorite LOST graphic designer at gritfx.com/lost; and poured out my own reactions to the show by writing lyrics to 235 filksongs (lostwithoutcharlie.blogspot.com). I got in pretty deep, and in the waning hours before the finale, I experienced a spectacular crash that made even my post-Harry Potter malaise pale in comparison as I discovered the dangers of following Doc Jensen too far down the rabbit hole, especially after two weeks in which I was generally too hyped up to sleep. LOST is a show that can mess with your mind. But I’d gladly do it all over again, so it seems only fitting to mark my 2800th post here on Epinions with my review of the sixth season.

Back in its third season, which happened to be the season when I began watching “live”, there were rumblings of complaints that the show was beginning to stall. This led to a most unusual decision: to negotiate and announce an end date for the series. LOST would end in 2010, and head writers Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse, along with the rest of their talented team, would have three years to bring the show to exactly the conclusion they wanted. Knowing this, expectations for the last half of the series, and especially the final season, were astronomically high. Hence, while the show lost more fans earlier in the series once it started veering toward science fiction, the sixth season invited the most heated debates because there were very few casual fans left. Most of the season six crowd was heavily invested in the mysteries or the characters or both, so the potential for disappointment was high.

The season began with LA X, and it seems that most fans reserved judgment after this mind-bender of an opener until it was clearer just where the show was going. The most controversial element of the season was the introduction of the “Flash Sideways,” which showed familiar characters in a world in which Oceanic 815 had never crashed. The assumption was that the creation of this alternate timeline was somehow connected with the detonation of the hydrogen bomb Jughead in the season five finale, though how the two stories would interconnect was anyone’s guess. Initially, it seemed very peculiar to me that we were seeing two sets of the same people, but given the fact that every previous season incorporated action both on the Island and off, it would have seemed a little strange to root this season solely in the immediate conflict on the Island. But there seemed to be so much ground to cover on the Island and so many questions not adequately answered that discontent with the Sideways was apparent in many fan reactions from the second episode on.

For my part, although I was itching to know what was happening on the Island, I generally found the Sideways stories both enlightening and something of a relief. For one thing, the Sideways incorporated many characters from seasons past, from major players like Charlie and Charlotte Lewis (Rebecca Mader) to minor characters like Frogurt (Sean Whalen) and Dr. Leslie Arzt (Daniel Roebuck). With the Island cast dwindling, it was increasingly heartening to see so many old faces popping up in this strange alternate reality, often in very unexpected ways. What’s more, most of the Sideways storylines had a welcome element of light-heartedness about them, and the majority of the characters we found there were happier and more well-adjusted than they had been at the time of the initial plane crash. Clearly, there were many differences in these characters’ lives, some subtle and some glaring, and it was fun to draw comparisons to earlier episodes as the season progressed.

Meanwhile, the season premiere brought the time-traveling castaways from the 1970s into the contemporary timeline, where Ben Linus (Michael Emerson) had just murdered Jacob (Mark Pellegrino), the elusive Island entity whose existence had been hinted at from the second season, at the request of Jacob’s ancient nemesis, now assuming the form of John Locke (Terry O’Quinn). As the season begins, Ben realizes just a little too late that he has been taking orders not from the resurrected John but from an evil entity known throughout most of the series as the Smoke Monster. Hence, with Jacob out of the way, the stage is set for Smokey, alternatively known as the Man in Black, to execute a plan that has been in the works for ages. But first, he needs to do something about the remaining castaways, most of whom are soon revealed to be Candidates for Jacob’s position.

Throughout the series, Jack Shephard has been the closest thing that this ensemble drama has had to a main character. While he is a heroic, fundamentally decent person, he’s not one of the characters I’ve connected to very much, but in season six, I found myself entirely drawn in by his vulnerability, his burgeoning faith and his humility. This was a Jack who had to broken down before he could be built up again, and Matthew Fox truly stepped up to the challenge, earning an Emmy nomination for his efforts and finally making Jack a character who was truly appealing to me. I was especially interested in how he related to Hurley in this season, as the latter, bolstered by the confidence that came with his special connection to Jacob, often found himself leading Jack instead of the other way around. Their camaraderie in Lighthouse, one of the season’s funniest and most illuminating episodes, is a precursor to some of Jack’s most moving scenes in the series. Additionally, the only major new character introduced in Sideways world has a connection with Jack that ultimately renders him one of the most intriguing aspects of that timeline.

Jorge Garcia’s Hurley, more often referred to as Hugo in season six, has always been the heart of the series, but in the first season or two, it might have been easy to overlook him as mostly comic relief. While few characters on the show can be counted upon so consistently for lightening up an episode, Hurley’s altruism has had a profound impact throughout the series, and in season six it becomes clear just how important his contributions have been as he continues to find ways of nurturing those around him, even in the midst of his own confusion. Meanwhile, in Sideways world, he conducts himself with a suave cool that the rather bumbling Island Hurley rarely achieves. Describing himself as “the luckiest guy alive,” he uses his good fortune to benefit others while building a fried chicken empire. One unanswered question that remains at the end of the series is how he got his nickname, but given its absence in the Sideways, it seems that he’s better off without it.

After the fifth season allowed him to finally make the transition from anti-hero to hero, Sawyer finds himself in a very dark place this season, and Josh Holloway’s angsty, anguished performance as a man whose grief has stripped his life of meaning is as riveting as it is painful. Striking off on his own early on, he is the first of the Candidates to ally himself to Smokey, though there is reason to hope that in this instance, he is simply putting his conman skills to good use. In the Sideways, he too goes by his birth name, and he pursues a surprising line of work, joined by a character who becomes one of his closest friends on the Island. While a rather lame romantic subplot detracted from Recon, his centric episode, as did the on-Island introduction of Zoe (Sheila Kelley), the sneering, bespectacled geophysicist who became the show’s most derided character since season three’s Nikki and Paolo, a pointed reference to Little House on the Prairie helped assure me that this was still the Sawyer I knew and loved.

Although What Kate Does was widely criticized for wasting time on Kate’s Sideways shenanigans, I liked the way the episode set up the importance of the bond between Kate and Claire (Emilie de Ravin) in the sixth season. We see a change in Kate as her primary preoccupation involves finding Claire on the Island and convincing her to return to Los Angeles and raise her son. I found her selflessness touching, and I liked the big sisterly rapport that she shared with Sideways Claire after their admittedly bizarre introduction to each other. One might argue that Evangeline Lilly is somewhat underused in the sixth season, but the ending makes up for that. Meanwhile, De Ravin, absent from the show since the fourth season, portrays a jittery Claire Gone Wild who displays many of the same characteristics as “crazy French chick” Danielle Rousseau. It’s clear that she has had a traumatic three years, much of it spent in the company of the manipulative Smokey, making it difficult for her old friends to balance their desire to help her with their fear that she might attack them. Her reunion with Jack, who now knows that she is his sister, is especially disappointing, though the Sideways storyline explores their relationship in a more satisfying way.

While Claire seems unhinged, former torturer Sayid (Naveen Andrews) spends most of the season in a dazed, soul-deadened state after a trip to the Temple brings him back from the edge of death. A tragic character who just can’t seem to rise above his violent tendencies, he backslides horribly in this season after Smokey offers to restore the woman he loves. It’s disturbing to see a character who has had so many noble moments once again carrying out the murderous demands of a master manipulator, and Sundown, in which he makes his fateful choice, is the most depressing episode since season four’s The Shape of Things to Come. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that both episodes feature psychotic mercenary Martin Keamy (Kevin Durand), easily my least favorite character in the series.

Keamy also turns up in The Package, the one episode in the season that engaged me the least, partly because the Sideways story is both a downer and a bit of a retread, partly because it revolves around a subplot involving Sun (Yun-jin Kim) that ultimately seems pretty pointless. She and Jin (Daniel Dae Kim) get entirely too little time in the sixth season, though they are at the heart of a couple of the season’s most powerful moments. One of my hopes for the season was that there would be another appearance by Jin’s father (John Shin), who, in brief appearances in just two episodes, became my favorite of all the parents on the show, but there’s little opportunity to delve into their extended family.

Jin is one of the first castaways this season to interact with Charles Widmore (Alan Dale), who finally finds a way back to the Island in the sixth season. It seems Jin is being set up for a central role in the final conflict in which the allegiances of this arrogant Island leader deposed by Ben are unclear. However, the history and motivations of Charles remain murky. How did he amass such a fortune when he spent most of his life on the Island? Who is the mother of his daughter Penny? No other family tree is quite as messy as Charles’, though there are several instances throughout the series in which we learn characters are parents and children who have different names. Methinks they got a bit carried away with the name-dropping at times and abandoned practical considerations like how a young man whose mother is a Hawking and whose father is a Widmore ends up with the name Faraday.

That would be Daniel Faraday (Jeremy Davies), a character I had hoped to see more of in this sixth season. While his role is ultimately a small one, he makes an impact in his scenes, particularly with Desmond (Henry Ian Cusick), the time-traveling Scotsman whose unconventional episode finds him crossing paths with oodles of Island folks in the Sideways. We’re able to see the gentle physicist embracing a different sort of destiny, but his connection to Desmond remains as strong as ever, making him an important catalyst in Desmond’s journey. In both timelines, Desmond is defined by a calm sense of purpose, which is a nice change for this character who has spent so much of the series tortured and despondent. His unflappable manner leads to some of the funniest moments in the season, and his sagacity allows for my favorite scene in The Last Recruit, an episode that brings most of the Candidates in close proximity to each other.

Ever since his first appearance on the show, Michael Emerson has made Ben Linus one of the most intriguing characters ever to grace a television screen. His exceptional acting ability puts him in a class nearly by himself among an already very talented cast, and it’s impossible for me to look away whenever Ben is speaking. This incredibly nuanced character is brilliantly written as well, making him probably the biggest wild card of the series. Going into the sixth season, I knew that my enjoyment of the show’s conclusion would hinge partly on the direction he took. In season six, we see a Ben who is rarely in control of his own circumstances. Instead of leading, he spends most of the season following, though always carefully considering his next move. Although he takes a bit of a backseat in many of the episodes, he is front and center in Dr. Linus, a remarkable episode that was easily the most cathartic of the season, and probably the entire series, for me. His Sideways self is radically different from his normal self, yet one can imagine how, under different circumstances, the erudite Ben could have taken this path. The drama that unfolds there is made all the more powerful by a supporting cast of characters long gone on the Island. Meanwhile, in the main timeline, the truth comes out about his role in Jacob’s death, leading to my favorite Ben moment since the wordless scene in season four’s Cabin Fever when he and Hurley share a candy bar. For this episode alone, Emerson deserves the Emmy nomination once again lavished upon him.

Part of the credit to that exceptional scene must also go to Zuleikha Robinson, who portrays Ilana, the enigmatic woman who comes to the Island at the special request of Jacob as a bodyguard for his Candidates. I was hoping for a full-blown flashback episode for her, especially once I determined that she ranked among my favorite female characters on the show, but we’re left to imagine just how Jacob became “the closest thing she had to a father”. While I found myself frustrated that I didn’t see more of her, this tough but compassionate woman became one of my favorite elements of the sixth season, particularly in her scenes with Ben and Frank Lapidus (Jeff Fahey).

Throughout most of the season, Frank has little more to do than toss out zingers, but I love the way his caustic sense of humor adds levity to scenes as somber as the funeral in The Substitute, my favorite of the show’s many memorial services. He also elicited one of my biggest cheers of the series late in the season. Similarly, acerbic Miles (Ken Leung) is barely involved in most of the season’s main events, but he provides some levity at key moments and is a catalyst for one of my favorite scenes. Moreover, he shows some nice development as a character, becoming more considerate toward others while still maintaining some self-serving quirks that hilariously manifest themselves in a callback to the third season.

Always-underused L. Scott Caldwell and Sam Anderson appear in just four episodes as contented couple Rose and Bernard, but each of their scenes makes a powerful impression, whether they are gently mentoring characters in the Sideways or calmly facing a threat in what was, for me, the most terrifying moment of the season. Also appearing in just a few episodes are new characters Dogen (Hiroyuki Sanada), the intimidating guardian of the Island’s Temple, and Lennon (John Hawkes), his hippie-ish translator. These two never really took off with a lot of people, but I was glad for the sojourn in the Temple, an Island landmark I’d been very curious about, and I liked both Lennon’s humor and the respectful rapport between Dogen and Jack.

When the Sideways turned up in the season premiere, it led to a great deal of speculation as to whether there would be any traditional flashbacks this time around. I was hoping we’d have at least a couple, and one character who definitely merited a flashback was Richard Alpert (Nestor Carbonell), the wise, diplomatic Other who never seemed to age. While Richard always seems extremely in the know in earlier seasons, season six leaves him just as confused and disillusioned as Ben, with the result that there are many cracks in his sage demeanor. We watch him wrestle with his doubts as to the task he has been given, and in Ab Aeterno, we spend almost an entire episode in his distant past, learning how he came to be on the Island and stop aging and getting several other answers in the process. One of the most polarizing episodes of the season, it is anchored by an absorbing, physically demanding performance by Carbonell, who spends most of the episode speaking broken English. I admired his performance and the episode’s epic scope, along with the surprising revelations about Jacob, Smokey and Richard himself. While I’d long ago resolved to like Richard despite my suspicions about him early on, this was the episode that cemented him as one of my favorite characters.

Similarly, Across the Sea spends an entire episode in the Island’s ancient past in order to give us the backstories of Jacob and Smokey. Probably the most reviled episode of the season, it came after an especially shocking cliffhanger, forcing viewers to wait an extra week before moving on to the true denouement of the series. For me, however, it came at the perfect time, finally showing us exactly how these old enemies related to one another while giving us a brief respite from the main conflict. From his first appearance in the season five finale, I found myself magnetically drawn to Mark Pellegrino’s performance. Jacob was a character whose official introduction I’d so anxiously awaited, I was convinced that he could never live up to all the hype, but when he finally showed up, he drew me in more completely than I ever could have anticipated. As each episode of the sixth season began, I hoped that he would make an appearance, and despite the fact that he died in the same episode in which we met him, he preoccupied me more than any other character, in part because of his wonderful rapport with ghost whisperer Hurley, both before and after his death. As with Ben, I was acutely interested in the direction Jacob would take, and Across the Sea was the episode that settled my opinion of him once and for all. Pellegrino continued to impress me as he added earthier flavors to this mystical character, and Titus Welliver played against him brilliantly as a much older incarnation of the Man in Black, as he did in two previous episodes.

Ab Aeterno and Across the Sea are the season’s most “mythological” episodes, addressing such questions as What happened to Jacob’s statue? Why is there a slave ship in the middle of the jungle? Who were the people whose skeletons were dubbed Adam and Eve in the first season? How long have Jacob and Smokey been on the Island? and Just what is the Island, anyway? These episodes provide a partial answer to this all-important last question, though it’s as incomplete as the answer to what makes the Numbers so special, which is provided earlier in the season. As for me, I felt sure that we’d find out a little more about Annie, Ben’s childhood friend, but like Aaron, she turns out to be a character who is not nearly as significant as it first seemed.

While Cuse and Lindelof promised to answer questions and implied that they would have more concrete answers than they ultimately provided, the final season drops several self-referential hints in order to limit audience expectations. They poke fun at the obsessive need to find answers to everything when they have Jack find Shannon’s inhalers, a moment that tracks back to 2009’s Comic-Con, when Jorge Garcia, casting about for insignificant unsolved mysteries, demands to know their location during a question-and-answer period. Later, we’re told that “every question will only lead to another question”. It’s easy to see why many found the final season frustrating when so many threads were left dangling, but when explicit answers were provided, more often than not, fans found them disappointing. Throughout season six, mirrors frequently come into play, and it seems to me that we’re ultimately meant to look at LOST as a mirror of sorts. When we peer into it, each person sees something a little different, and leaving a lot of things open-ended allows for a multitude of interpretations. I think LOST is ultimately more about questions than answers.

No character better reflects the desire for answers than John Locke, so brilliantly played by Terry O’Quinn. In this season, O’Quinn’s talent is on full display in his portrayal of two completely different characters. In the Sideways, we see a character much like the kind but troubled John we met in season one, though there are some subtle differences. On the Island, he’s the ruthless Smoke Monster, a not-quite-man hardened by centuries of struggle against someone with an opposite worldview. He is the most fearsome villain the series has seen, though O’Quinn still brings a glimmer of humanity to him entirely missing from Keamy and cruel conman Anthony Cooper. Shrewd and determined, he has no qualms about using others to achieve his goals, and he cares little about collateral damage - though one might contend that this is also a shortcoming of Jacob, noble as his aims might be. Still, while I hoped that the Candidates would triumph against Smokey, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was any hope that there was good remaining in this entity that could be drawn out in the end. As brilliant as Emerson was this year, as he always is, I can’t help but conclude that O’Quinn’s performance is the cornerstone of the season.

LOST’s sixth season isn’t perfect, and as much as I love the Sideways as a device for exploring characters, I confess I find the mechanics of it a tad confusing, and there’s little doubt that some of its scenes are written with the intent to deceive. Nonetheless, I had several ideas of how the show might end, and the finale came much closer to what I wanted to see than what I didn’t. I think the remaining ambiguities are there largely so that debate and conversation about the series can continue - though it’s rather distressing to see that a show so concerned with people of differing viewpoints learning to get along has sparked some of the most virulent comment wars I’ve ever seen. I doubt that the DVD set for season six will change many minds about the season as a whole, but there are some nifty extras for those who want to stretch the LOST experience out just a little more.

The main attraction is The New Man in Charge, a 12-minute-long epilogue of sorts that explores a missing piece of Island history with two of my favorite characters. Well, after a fashion. None of it actually takes place on the Island, unless you count the filmstrip that is presumably filmed there. That’s the educational portion of the short, once again featuring Dr. Pierre Chang and answering a few lingering questions about the Dharma Initiative. The filmstrip is embedded in a scene involving a visit to a Dharma warehouse, where we are introduced to two amusing fellows whose confusion is meant to reflect our own. This portion is largely comical, while the final part attempts to bring closure to a seemingly abandoned storyline. This poignant scene will probably please longtime fans the most, though it introduces as many questions as it answers. While I was hoping for more interaction between the two characters at the heart of this epilogue, it’s a charming little coda that goes by all too quickly.

There’s the usual bloopers and deleted scenes, with about ten deleted scenes, though only a couple of them are terribly involved or interesting. Segments on the heroic qualities of various characters and on the Sideways are engaging, and a feature about the cast and crew coming to grips with the show ending is quite touching, especially the scene in which Jorge Garcia reads the finale script for the first time. I bought my DVD from Best Buy, where it came with an extra DVD. An amusing feature on Mr. Cluck’s Chicken Shack is well worth the watch, especially for the commentary of Samm Levine of Freaks and Geeks, who appears in a scene in Everybody Loves Hugo. There’s a short segment dealing with the martial arts skills of Sayid and Dogen, and the Lost on Location features dig into my favorite and least favorite episodes of the season. The Sundown segment mostly involves Kevin Durand making freakish faces at Anthony Azizi, who plays Keamy’s right-hand thug Omar, but Dr. Linus has some interesting commentary from Emerson and some of his Sideways co-stars. Probably the best feature, though, is the peek at the LOST Live event in L. A., which allowed fans, along with cast and crew, to experience a live performance of Michael Giacchino’s orchestra playing some of the most iconic themes in the series. As if the music weren’t great enough, it’s accompanied by several actors reading notes that redshirts left in the bottle that went on the raft with Michael and the gang in season one. Keep an ear out for Sonya Walger, Carbonell, Garcia and especially Emerson bringing these background characters to life.

Every person who watched LOST had slightly different expectations for the final season. Mine were mostly met, and while I’ll grant that it’s clear that there was an element of making-it-up-as-we-go-along at play, there were so many callbacks to previous seasons and character arcs satisfyingly resolved that I’m inclined to believe that most of it was planned out in advance, at least roughly. At any rate, however they got there, everyone involved in the show came together over the course of six years to create an epic that will be remembered as a landmark television event, and I thank them for sweeping me up in it. Namaste.

30 Rock Is a Regular Laughfest

The show 30 Rock first caught my attention a couple of years ago when I began seeing the rather epic American Express commercial demonstrating the zaniness of a typical day for harried head writer Liz Lemon. I thought the ads were hilarious, though it wasn’t until the season three finale that I finally watched an episode. A guest appearance from Clay Aiken was what drew me into Kidney Now!, but I was happy to sit through the episode, what with its hilarious spoof of We Are the World and its outrageous premise involving a character played by Alan Alda and a situation that reminded me very much of the pathetic backstory of LOST’s John Locke. Pretty funny stuff.

I’ve only caught the show sporadically since then, but after I revived my dormant Netflix account and my brother discovered that several seasons of the series were available for instant viewing, he suggested we watch it from the beginning. I agreed, and we’ve been chortling over it ever since.

Tina Fey stars as Liz, a sharp-witted, perpetually frazzled sketch comedy writer who oversees a show on NBC. Her world turns upside-down when Jack Donaghy (Alec Baldwin) is made her boss and begins demanding major changes to her series. One of his first suggestions is to bring eccentric movie star Tracy Jordan (Tracy Morgan) on board. Much of the first season involves the struggles of the rest of the cast and crew to accept the changes that come with Tracy’s presence. Though he is both smarter and more ethical than anyone would guess at first glance, Tracy remains a loose cannon, so it’s never quite clear what he’s going to do next, especially since he has a difficult time keeping his ego in check.

Like Fey, Morgan was a familiar sight to us thanks to Saturday Night Live, where his zany antics often cracked us up, especially during the sketches in which he played the bizarre host of Brian Fellow’s Safari Planet. Baldwin, too, has been on SNL many times, though as a host rather than a regular, and other SNL alums turn up periodically, most notably Chris Parnell as the dubious Dr. Spaceman, who attends to the medical and psychiatric needs of Tracy and others, and Rachel Dratch in a variety of minor roles. It’s fun to guess where she might turn up next, as her appearances are extremely random. Also showing up in a slightly more serious role is Jason Sudeikis, a potential love interest for Liz.

Of all the major characters on the show, Liz seems the most normal, though she certainly has her share of issues. Still, she seems much more well-adjusted than folks like anti-social geek Frank Rossitano (Judah Friedlander) or attention-grabbing Jenna Maroney (Jane Krakowski), the actress who is most threatened by Tracy’s arrival. My favorite character is Kenneth Parcell (Jack McBrayer), an enthusiastic intern with a perpetually enormous smile. His naivety and determination to go above and beyond the call of duty in all situations makes me think of company clerk Radar, my favorite M*A*S*H character, and he and Tracy are the two characters who most consistently make me laugh.

30 Rock is a madcap sort of show that is frequently self-referential, poking fun at a lot of the elements that go into making a television show. It’s one of these series where things frequently go extravagantly wrong; pratfalls are plentiful, as are miscommunications and outright disasters. At the same time, we get to see bits and pieces of the show-within-a-show, as well as bits of movies, music videos and other shows, and these are generally very funny. I especially like the original songs, which tend to be written on extremely odd topics. For instance, the first season features Tracy’s nonsensical Werewolf Bar Mitzvah and Jenna’s provocative Muffin Top.

As with most contemporary prime time comedies, 30 Rock can be a bit crude, but most of the humor derives from these very odd characters all working closely together to try to produce a coherent show. Nathan and I breezed right through the first season and are chuckling heartily over the second, so if you’re looking for a comedy that’s just plain silly, give the show a whirl.

Hate That Cat Is a Worthy Successor to Love That Dog

Several years ago, I stumbled upon the slim volume Love That Dog, a mid-grade novel written by Sharon Creech in the form of a poetry journal. The journal belongs to a young boy named Jack who initially resists the efforts of his teacher, Ms Stretchberry, to embrace poetry. Eventually, however, he warms to the idea, using his journal as an outlet for his feelings regarding his dog Sky, who was involved in a tragic accident.

In this book, it’s the next year, and Ms Stretchberry has moved up a grade, so Jack’s doing another poetry journal for her. This time, he’s more open to poetry, and his topic of greatest interest is a neighborhood cat that he hates, which leads to the revelation that his teacher has a cat who just had kittens, in which he swears he has no interest whatsoever. This book has a somewhat lighter tone than the first, which is largely about working through grief; Sky still comes up in Hate That Cat, but only occasionally, and Jack’s pain is no longer so acute.

Creech references many of the same poets as she did in the first book and some of the same poems, including Walter Dean Myers’ Love That Boy and William Carlos Williams’ The Red Wheelbarrow. As before, Jack fills his journal with free verse as well as several poems imitating the above poems and others, such as Williams‘ This Is Just to Say and T. S. Eliot‘s The Naming of Cats, which are reprinted in the back of the book. Once again, he is especially taken with the work of Myers, who visited his classroom in the first book.

In this sequel, Ms Stretchberry introduces him to several poetic devices having to do with sound, such as alliteration and onomatopoeia, and he seems to be especially preoccupied with the question of how those who cannot hear might experience such poems differently. We eventually find out why he is so hung up on this, and it forms a subplot that eventually becomes just as prominent as the main plotline and is the most poignant portion of the book.

Through Jack’s writing, we get a good sense of the way in which Ms Stretchberry teaches. It’s almost as though we can hear her speaking, since Jack frequently responds to her questions and comments. Clearly she is someone who is very good at what she does. She excels at driving her lessons home in an interesting way, and she also displays tremendous patience and understanding for the issues her students face.

Though Jack likes poetry at this point, he struggles with a lack of self-confidence, especially after his uncle Bill disparages what he has written because of its lack of rhyme, meter and other such devices. His very narrow notion of what constitutes poetry and his utter insensitivity to a child’s budding creativity make him an interesting stumbling block. Ms Stretchberry takes on the challenge of reassuring Jack that the type of poetry he has been writing is valuable while also convincing him that the poetic flourishes his uncle likes can also be worth incorporating.

While it’s about a third longer than its predecessor, Hate That Cat is a pretty quick read. Though there are 125 pages, the font is large, and most of the lines are pretty short. Creech captures the voice of a young boy very well, conveying excitement, anger, vulnerability and appreciation. Jack is quite a lovable young man, and some moments in the book are truly touching. Others are comical, like The Yips, a poem inspired by Edgar Allen Poe’s The Bells: “Hear the dogs with their yips / squeaky yips! / What a funny squeaking sound / coming from their lips! / How they ripple ripple ripple / in the shadow of a pickle / In the yipyipabulation / through the air / from the yip yip yip yip / yip yip yip / from the squeaking and the rippling / of the yips.” This poem aptly demonstrates the dangers of rhyme purely for rhyme’s sake, and I laughed out loud at his post-poem admission that “I’m not quite sure how that pickle got in there.”

When I read Love That Dog, I was surprised to find myself tearing up, as I’m not a very outwardly emotional person. I‘m sure the fact that my own dog had died several months before strengthened my reaction, but I suspect the book would have moved me whenever I read it. Hate That Cat was a slightly less cathartic experience, but I was no less caught up in Jack’s wonderful poetic voice. I had no idea that Creech had written a sequel and am grateful to jpolhemus for alerting me to its existence. Jack may hate that cat - or think he does, anyway - but I sure love this book.

Come Sail Away With Dennis DeYoung of Styx (Erie, PA 8-20-10)

Celebrate Erie, the late-summer festival formerly known as We Love Erie Days, is a pretty big deal in my hometown of Erie, Pennsylvania. In recent years, it has become even more popular, thanks in part to the inclusion of major musical acts performing for free on the main stage on Friday or Saturday night. The past five years have seen such bands as the Bacon Brothers, Three Dog Night and the Beach Boys, and last night, the headliner was Dennis DeYoung of Styx.

I’m a child of the 80s, but I spent my elementary school years listening to music from the 60s and early 70s, so Styx was only just barely on my radar. Most of my familiarity with the band comes from the short-lived series Freaks and Geeks, which makes clever use of several of the band’s songs. My favorite incorporation of music in the series is the scene in the first episode in which Come Sail Away, the only Styx song I previously knew, plays at a school dance. It’s such an epic-sounding song, I thought it would be fun to hear in concert, but I wasn’t sure if that one hit was reason enough to brave the crowds. However, we went downtown last night to meet up with my aunt and uncle, who were planning to stay for the concert, so we tagged along. I’m glad we did.

Dennis DeYoung is a spry 63-year-old who seems to have a boundless energy matched by the instrumentalists and vocalists backing him up. I didn’t catch their names last night, but his website lists them as percussionist Tom Sharpe, guitarist / vocalist August Zadra, guitarist / vocalist Jimmy Leahey, keyboardist John Blasucci and bassist / vocalist Craig Carter. As usual, a massive crowd showed up, and we were far enough from the stage that all we could see were the spotlights, but thanks to the jumbotrons, we had a clear view of what was happening, and the sound carried to the back very well.

I often had trouble understanding the lyrics, but that tends to be the case at large outdoor concerts when they’re singing songs I don’t already know. When DeYoung spoke, however, I understood him clearly, and he was pretty chatty. He came across as quite affable and seemed to be having a great time, and the crowd appreciated all of his local references, such as his discussion of his conversation with Mayor Joe Sinnott, who picked him up from the airport, and his comment that “I’m in the only place where I can say it’s a good thing to have an Erie feeling - and I’m feeling it tonight!”

Among the songs, some of the best-received were the heartfelt Show Me the Way, which he wrote for his son and dedicated to veterans and active members of the military; Babe, which he wrote for Suzanne, his wife of 40 years, who he introduced to the audience at that point in the concert; and Don’t Let It End, which, judging from his introduction and the slow-dancing that ensued, seems to have been a staple at proms in the early 80s. Desert Moon was the only song of the night from his solo career; everything else was from his tenure with Styx. Most songs included extended instrumental portions, with synthesizers and electric guitars in full effect. DeYoung himself spent quite a bit of time tearing up the keyboard, and he also showed off some smooth dance moves during Mr. Roboto.

Thanks to the overly earnest Nick on Freaks and Geeks, I am very familiar with the song Lady, though I hadn’t realized it was a Styx song until it started up last night. I enjoyed singing along with that one a bit and imagining the lovelorn pothead’s exaggerated expressions as he serenaded the nonplussed Lindsay. Later, my brother pointed out that Renegade, too, had turned up on the show, though it took me a moment to recognize that one. Our parents left the concert early, but we decided to stick around, especially since Come Sail Away was the part of the concert we were most excited about. As we suspected, DeYoung saved that one for last, following a first “encore,” before which he explained that he was just going to pretend that he had left the stage and come back after monstrous applause.

DeYoung introduced the song by thanking the audience and saying that we were all going to “sail away” together. After the lovely opening segment on the piano, he kept silent, gesturing to the audience to sing the first two lines without him. He chimed in from the third line on, but everyone out on the street kept singing, leading to a communal experience akin to American Pie at the free outdoor Don McLean concert I attended in Buffalo in 2002. On that occasion, people stuck their heads out of upper-story office buildings to sing along with the chorus; here, some very energetic young women on the balcony above a nearby bar let loose with some very flashy glow-in-the-dark hula hooping. During the lengthy, electrified instrumental portions, there was plenty of dancing in the streets, and it definitely ended the concert on a high note.

Styx is a little hard-rockin’ for my tastes, but I found that I really enjoyed the concert, thanks to the incredibly proficient instrumentalists and DeYoung’s terrific stage presence. If you get a chance to sail away with DeYoung in concert, it’s an invitation worth accepting.

Birds Raise an Unusual Youngster in Flap Your Wings

I’m very familiar with the P. D. Eastman classic Are You My Mother?, and a while back I stumbled upon The Best Nest, which features a female bird who looks a lot like the mother bird in that book, this time with a mate in tow. Now I’ve found yet another Eastman book featuring a pair of birds. They already have a cozy nest for themselves, and it seems they are preparing to welcome a youngster into their home. Then an extra-large egg mysteriously appears in their nest...

Eastman does not introduce Mr. and Mrs. Bird right off the bat in Flap Your Wings. Instead, he first shows us the egg, then a boy who discovers the egg while out on a walk. When no one lays claim to it, the boy, in an effort to be helpful, puts the egg into the nest in a nearby tree. One wonders what would have happened if the boy had simply left the egg alone. Would one of its parents eventually retrieved it? Or would it have been abandoned, meaning that the boy actually saved the unborn creature’s life? That’s unclear, so it’s hard to say whether there’s a lesson in there about whether or not one should intervene in such cases. My initial thought was that the boy should have left well enough alone, but I’m not sure the book entirely supports that idea. After all, the birds turn out to be very good parents.

It’s after the boy goes away that we meet them, both bright blue birds with pale yellow stomachs, differentiated from each other by the fact that Mrs. Bird wears a red handkerchief. They both know that this is not their egg, but they feel a duty to keep it warm until it hatches and then raise whatever comes out of it. Little do they expect that it will hatch an alligator!  This enormous baby comes with a set of sharp teeth and a monstrous appetite, so the birds spend the next few weeks tirelessly collecting food, with Mrs. Bird generally finding things like butterflies and berries and Mr. Bird hunting down icky stuff like spiders and centipedes. But how long can a bird’s nest sustain such a big reptile?

This reminded me a bit of the classic Disney short Lambert the Sheepish Lion. In that story, a mother sheep accidentally receives a baby lion from the stork, but she raises him as her own and he eventually becomes a valued member of the flock. In this case, it’s Mr. Bird who is really insistent that they keep the egg and then raise it. Mrs. Bird is more noncommittal. Nonetheless, both of them work hard to provide for their unconventional child’s needs. Then, when he outgrows the nest, they gently encourage him to take flight. There’s just one problem, of course; he doesn’t have any wings!

Flap Your Wings is a fun book, full of vibrant color and amusing expressions as the birds try to figure out how to deal with this unexpected change in their family life. It’s a Beginner Book, written at the same basic level as the other Eastman books mentioned above, with a few short sentences per page. It’s funny to watch the birds feeding this alligator bugs and satisfying to see how much trouble they go to for a youngster of a completely different species. While I’m not sure the story hangs together quite as well as Eastman’s other bird books, the premise is cute, and the pictures are a hoot. Ultimately a celebration of both nature and nurture, Flap Your Wings is silly but charming.

My Favorite Song of Summer 2010: The Injustice League's I'll Never Be LOST Again

It’s once again the time of year when I start reading a lot of lists of Best Songs of the Summer, which causes me to feel incredibly out-of-touch, since without fail I’ve heard few, if any, of them. That hasn’t changed this year as I gaze upon song titles by artists ranging from Katy Perry and Lady Gaga to Eminem and even Erie’s own hometown band Train. Clearly I don’t listen to the radio very much, and when I do, it’s never tuned into the Top 40. I’d be at a loss to come up with any kind of list, but if you asked me for one song that defined the summer of 2010 for me, I’d be able to give you an answer immediately.

I first caught wind of The Injustice League’s I’ll Never Be LOST Again when Jo Garfein, one of my favorite LOST bloggers, mentioned it on her blog (jopinionated.blogspot.com) the week of the finale. Just a couple days later, it turned up in Doc Jensen’s official LOST column on Entertainment Weekly’s website, and I decided I really ought to check it out.

Though I had my doubts as to how well I would like it when I read the words “epic hip-hop / R&B anthem,” as those aren’t two musical styles I tend to connect with very much, I can honestly say that the music video hooked me even before the first verse started. I’ve never heard this song on the radio, and I never expect to. But it was just what this LOST addict needed, and I listened to it many times over the course of the summer, memorizing the lyrics and admiring the artistry and unapologetic geekdom of the men introduced in the video’s credits as Mc Don and The Reverend Oldbed.

I’m no stranger to the notion of using songs to delve more deeply into a beloved show. By the time I watched I’ll Never Be LOST Again, I had written the lyrics to more than 200 filksongs about LOST (lostwithoutcharlie.blogspot.com), trying to get into the heads of just about every major character on the show, and a whole lot of minor ones as well. I wrote my own rambling farewell to the show to the tune of American Pie, incorporating as many specific references as possible. But I heard this song, and it stopped me dead in my tracks, summing up in six succinct minutes my precise feelings for the series with the professional polish of seasoned recording artists.

Some of the song’s appeal is visual, as the video is expertly edited to seamlessly incorporate dozens of clips from LOST, each of which is synched up perfectly with the lyrics, sometimes enhancing the emotion, sometimes eliciting a chuckle. This is especially true of the chorus, which twice includes a clip of a haggard Jack shouting, “We have to go back!” While the lyrics remain the same, the accompanying scenes change, adding depth to the experience.

But as powerful as it is for the longtime LOST fan to take that trip through memory lane via this epic clip show, the song stands on its own perfectly well without the visual element. It begins and ends with some somber commentary, and a bridge of sorts before the third verse reflects upon the deeper meaning of the show in a manner that feels spontaneous but also vaguely rhythmic.

These spoken portions add to the impression that this was a true labor of love for its creators, a pair of LOST fans who are also a part of the folk group Wasted Wine. There’s an aura of sincerity about the song that some might call overblown, but I think most folks who invested 120 hours of initial viewing time and countless hours rewatching and hashing each episode out with fellow LOSTies understand what they mean when they say, “It’s just a show, but it feels like losin’ a friend.”

There’s very little actual singing in this song; it’s almost all rapping, with the exception of some repetition of the title phrase and a bit of back-up singing of the names of certain characters during extensions of the chorus. Nonetheless, the whole thing feels extremely melodic thanks to the stirring backing track, which turns the song largely into a love letter to Michael Giacchino, the brilliant composer whose music has accompanied so many of the most moving moments in the series. With a heavily percussive version of Giacchino’s Of Mice and Ben from the season four finale rippling underneath the rap, it really feels like the song is diving straight into the heart of LOST.

The two rappers switch off on verses and take much of the chorus together, occasionally overlapping their voices, which adds to the communal sense of the song. As one comes to the end of a string of reflections, the other starts in on his, which makes it seem like both of them are just bursting with things to say about the series that is about to come to an end. They posted it on YouTube just five days before the finale; by the time The End aired, tens of thousands of people had popped by to see what the buzz was about, many of them leaving posts echoing the song’s lyrics as they discussed the impact the series had made upon them.

Each of the song’s three lengthy verses is filled with clever references to show. Not counting folks who appear solely in the video clips, the song specifically mentions more than 30 different characters, from original castaways like Claire and Sawyer to later additions like Keamy and Ilana. Lines like “I wanna Faraday back to September 22” and “They got me trapped like I stole Rousseau’s baby” manage to cover a lot of ground in a very short time, combining key tidbits in a witty way that expounds upon the character in question and creates a possible new LOST catchphrase in the process.

Along with the characters, there are references to many of the Island’s peculiarities, from the hieroglyphs in the Swan hatch to the slave ship in the middle of the jungle. They work in important concepts like a Constant, that person or thing which tethers someone to reality and saves him or her from the deadly side effects of temporal displacement, and key off-Island elements like Mr. Cluck’s Chicken Shack, the fried chicken franchise that is so much a part of Hurley’s backstory, and MacCutcheon whiskey, so critical to Desmond‘s.

Then, of course, there are references to phrases that turn up again and again in LOST: “The Island isn’t done with me.” “What lies in the shadow of the statue?” “Don’t tell me what I can’t do!” Anybody who loves analyzing the show would delight in going through the song and pinpointing the inspiration for each line.

“So just as God loved Jacob and Hurley loved Libby, / Like Kate only loved herself, yeah, and Desmond loved Penny, / Just like Sawyer loved Juliet but had to let her go, / See, that's sorta how I feel when I think about this show...” Yes indeed. It’s a little melodramatic - and a bit unfair to Kate, who I think managed to prove that she wasn’t quite as self-absorbed as she often seemed - but guys, that’s sorta how I feel too, even though it’s been three months now. I hope that the finale of LOST brought these two some degree of satisfaction, because they clearly invested a lot of themselves into the series, and they managed to give back to the fan community in a big way.

The video remains available on YouTube and the band’s very basic site for the song, www.injusticeleaguemusic.com, which includes links to download both the full song and the instrumental version for free. There are also a couple of blurbs from press the song has gotten, along with a link to the Wasted Wine webpage and a donation box. While this may be the only LOST song these two will create, they’ve convinced me of their musical prowess, and I intend to thoroughly peruse the music of their other band. In the meantime, if anybody asks me what my favorite song of the summer was, I’ll have my answer ready.

Club Chipmunk: The Dance Mixes Doesn't Make Me Wanna Shout

I’ve been acquainting myself with some of the theme albums produced by the novelty group Alvin and the Chipmunks, created by Ross Bagdasarian, Sr., and carried on by his son, Ross Bagdasarian, Jr. What I’m finding is that the more specialized an album is, the more generic it tends to be. The songs are thematically linked, but the only thing Chipmunky about them is those high-pitched voices and maybe an off-hand reference or two to Alvin or one of the other Chipmunks or Chipettes.

Club Chipmunk: The Dance Mixes is probably the most uninteresting Chipmunks album I’ve ever listened to. The songs are peppy, and the technical quality is excellent, but there’s no banter, and Dave Seville is entirely missing from the album. It doesn’t help that dance music isn’t exactly high on my list of preferred genres.

Macarena - This song reached its height of popularity when I was in high school, though it’s still turned up at pretty much every wedding reception I’ve been to since then. It’s catchy, and because the moves are so simple, even a klutz like me can get out on the dance floor and not look like a total dunce. But it’s that interactive element that makes it so fun. The song itself isn’t much to listen to, and the Chipmunks add nothing new to the equation.

Vogue - GLEE recently covered this song, with Sue Sylvester putting her distinctive stamp on it in an amusing music video. Perhaps this track would be more interesting with a similar visual element, but just listening to the Chipettes, it’s another pretty much straightforward cover of a song I already find rather annoying.

Stayin’ Alive - I kinda dig the BeeGees, and this is a fun song to boogie too. It’s also rather suited to the Chipmunks, since there are already high voices at play. On the other hand, it’s harder to understand those long strings of words when they’re coming out of Chipmunk mouths, and again, there’s nothing very unique about the Chipmunks cover.

Play That Funky Music - At least this one has been personalized a tiny bit, with the word “chipmunk” replacing “white boy” after the title phrase. Otherwise, it’s another proficient but unoriginal cover, though I must admit this one had me dancin’ in my seat a bit.

I’m Too Sexy - Unsurprisingly, egotistical Alvin takes the lead on this preening song, adopting an odd accent as he does so. On the one hand, this song has more originality to it than most, with Alvin changing a word here and there - “car” to “bike,” for instance. But even though the song is little more than a list of things he’s “too sexy for,” it still feels a bit inappropriate, considering that the point of this album seems to be to have kid-friendly versions of popular dance songs. Then again, I distinctly remember my fourth grade classmate doing an upper-body strip tease to this in the middle of guidance class...

Witch Doctor - The Chipmunks add a techno beat to this song and make it funkier. Oddly, they change their own song up more than anybody else’s, when I liked their original version better than any other song on this album. This rendition is definitely skippable, and it really makes me miss lovably cranky Dave, who seems to be getting extremely short shrift on recent Chipmunks albums.

Shout - The Chipettes chime in on this song, which is more melodic than most of the tracks on the album. It’s kinda fun to listen to Alvin draw out those long notes, and the gals nail the extra high notes. It’s catchy, but again, not very original.

Love Shack - This is another song that seems a bit inappropriate to me. Yes, they played it at every skating party I went to in elementary school, but it doesn’t seem like a song meant to be sung by characters who are supposed to be just kids themselves. It’s also one of those songs that never seems to end, and I think Chipmunks songs tend to work best when they’re more on the short side. At more than five minutes in length, this is the longest song on the album by a considerable margin.

Macarena - The album ends as it began, only this time the maddeningly infectious ditty is sung entirely in Spanish instead of only partly. I guess it provides a nice bookend, but it seems a little excessive.

I doubt that Bagdasarian feels this was a wasted album; it made it into the Top 10 on Billboard’s Top Kid Audio, and I imagine the album still is making its way into kids’ parties, especially with the resurgence in the Chipmunks’ popularity following the two movies. I can also see how it might be fun to play a Chipmunks version of one of these dance staples at a wedding reception or other occasion where there’s lots of dancing. You can dance along to these versions just as easily, and it might be good for a laugh. But for such an upbeat album, Club Chipmunk is just a little too bland for my tastes.

Weird Al's The Food Album Tickles Taste Buds and Funny Bones

Weird Al Yankovic is one strange guy. But boy, is he talented. I’ve been admiring his lyrical prowess for years, and since I started writing song parodies in earnest myself, I have considered him a major influence. But Al doesn’t stop with the lyrics. An accomplished singer and musician, he’s built a career on his precise mimicry of the songs of others, as well as his crafting of truly off-the-wall original recordings. One subject that seems to come up again and again throughout his albums is food, so it’s little surprise that he decided to devote an entire album to parodies on this theme with The Food Album.

Fat - One of two Michael Jackson parodies on this album, both of which gained far greater popularity than the other tracks. This is a song about a guy who really loves to eat, which has led to his having a rather unwieldy girth. An amusing song, and just over-the-top enough that it doesn’t really come across as mean-spirited. “If I have one more pie a la mode, I’m gonna need my own zip code...”

Lasagna - Starting off with a fun accordion solo, this La Bamba parody is a tribute to Italian food, which Al sings with a rather stilted accent. As in Eat It, it seems he’s taking on the voice of a mom who is pushing food on a reluctant eater, though in this case, I get the impression that the recipient of her meals is probably an adult. Slightly hard to understand some of the lyrics with his accent, but as a big fan of Italian food, I dig this one. “Have-a more ravioli. You a-get roly-poly, a-nice and a-big, like you cousin Luigi.”

Addicted to Spuds - When my brother Nathan was younger, he had a curious obsession with potatoes. In one of his art classes, he drew a poster of a “flock” of potatoes romping joyously upon a sun-drenched plain under the words “Free the Potatoes!” On another occasion, he produced a poster of a movie starring Paul Shaffer of The Late Show with David Letterman as a character named Potato. Clearly, Nathan was addicted to spuds and could have been the subject of this song. Al’s voice seems to veer off-key at times here, but I imagine that’s intentional. Thanks to that catchy Superbowl commercial from 2006, my first association with Addicted to Love is always going to be LOST, to which I clearly was (and probably still am) addicted, but I’ll be glad to listen to this as I munch on some French fries. “Potato skins, potato cakes. Hash browns and instant flakes. Baked or boiled or French fried. There’s no kind you haven’t tried.”

I Love Rocky Road - Al sounds like a slightly crazed teen with a braces lisp here, which makes his choice of favorite ice cream rather unfortunate. There’s no indication in the song that rocky road is any worse for him than a less chunky style of ice cream, but I can’t help but suspect that maybe part of the attraction is the knowledge that his eating habits would horrify his orthodontist. Silly sound effects, a bit of accordion and a chorus of Chipmunky voices at the end add to the fun here. “When I'm all alone, I just grab myself a cone, and if I get fat and lose my teeth that's fine with me. Just lock me in the freezer and throw away the key.”

Spam - I like the way the vocals overlap slightly on this song; it‘s always fun to hear Al sing with himself. This is a silly, electric guitar-heavy ode to everybody‘s favorite mystery meat. The lyrics are rather laughably simplistic, which seems to go with the cheapy quality of the food being celebrated. “The tab is there to open the can. The can is there to hold in the Spam.”

Eat It - Arguably Al’s most famous song, this parody of Beat It has Al taking on the role of a nagging parent whose child does not want to eat. It’s an expertly crafted parody, and it touches on a pretty universal experience. Al is a fun mix of goofy and imposing here; I can easily imagine Everybody Loves Raymond’s Marie letting loose with a diatribe like this when her boys were young. This song helped launch Al‘s career, and it‘s easy to see why. “How come you're always such a fussy young man? Don't want no Captain Crunch, don't want no Raisin Bran. Well, don't you know that other kids are starving in Japan? So eat it, just eat it!”

The White Stuff - When I saw this title, I had a hard time figuring out what this parody of The Right Stuff would be about. Halfway through the first verse, I still wasn’t sure, but when it finally hit me, I had to commend him on his cleverness, though I somehow have managed to be pretty much immune to the charms of the cookie he lauds. “Oh oh oh oh oh, oh O-reo! What’s in the middle? The white stuff!”

My Bologna - This accordion-heavy parody of My Sharona was the first of Al’s parodies to make it to number one of Dr. Demento’s countdown. It’s among Al’s simplest songs, which makes sense since it comes from so early in his career, but it’s certainly catchy. “Goin' to the market now, market now. I'm the city's biggest bologna buyer. Walkin' down the shopping aisles, shopping aisles, filling up my basket with Oscar Mayer.”

Taco Grande - Instead of Italian, Al dons a Spanish accent here. Pretty similar to Lasagna, except that the speaker is requesting food instead of offering it. There’s a lot of Spanish in this one, and since I don’t understand Spanish, I kinda feel like I’m missing out on something, and the fact that I don’t know the original song or like Mexican food also makes it a little harder to connect with this one. Still, it’s good for a chuckle or two. “You want some more cinnamon crispas? If you don't, hasta la vista. Just take the rest home in a doggie bag if you wanna. You can finish it mañana.”

The Rye or the Kaiser - Despite being a fan of Weird Al for half my life, I’d only heard three of the songs on this album before listening to it for the first time this week. This is my clear favorite of the new bunch, as it riffs on Eye of the Tiger, a song that always puts me into fist-pumping mode, and amusingly imagines a less than glamorous future for Rocky. There’s something both sad and sweet in the picture of this prize fighter now standing behind a deli counter taking orders. At least he seems to take as much pride in this new line of work as he did in boxing... “Try the rye or the kaiser, they're on special tonight. If you want, you can have an appetizer. You might like our salami, and the liver's all right. And they'd really go well with the rye or the kaiser.”

Weird Al seems to have a special knack for writing about munchies, so if you’re looking for a way to make light of your lunch, check out The Food Album. Just don’t listen with your mouth full or laughter-induced choking may ensue...

Steve Martin Gives Cyrano de Bergerac a Modern Makeover in Roxanne

When I was in high school, one of my favorite television shows was Wishbone, a PBS show starring a Jack Russell Terrier who took the lead in each episode’s 15-minute adaptation of a classic novel. Yes, this was a series designed to encourage literacy in young children, like Reading Rainbow but more plot-driven. But I didn’t care what the intended audience was. I loved the clever way the series toggled between the ordinary, everyday dramas of Wishbone and his family of humans, particularly young teenager Joe and his friends, and the epic adventures found in stories like The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Faust, perhaps priming me to readily accept the unusual structure of LOST when I began watching it. Tightly paced and cleverly edited, these episodes riveted me, and they introduced me to several books that I would go on to read for myself.

The most memorable Wishbone introduction for me was Cyrano de Bergerac. This story of a man with a large nose and an eloquent tongue fascinated me, and when the book showed up as an option on my summer reading list a couple years later, it made my decision as to which book to read easy. I’ve seen several films and TV shows incorporating the concept of a linguistically challenged man asking his buddy to furnish him with words to help him court a woman, but usually it’s just a subplot. Last week, I finally got around to seeing Roxanne, the Steve Martin romantic comedy that is entirely based on this play, albeit loosely. While I think I ultimately prefer the short but sweet Wishbone treatment, the 1987 movie, which Martin wrote, is quite enjoyable.

Martin plays C. D., or Charlie, Bales, a small-town firefighting chief. He’s a kind, witty man whose enormous nose is rarely a stumbling block, but he begins to resent his facial structure when he meets Roxanne (Daryl Hannah), a gorgeous astronomer only in town for the summer. These two instantly connect on an intellectual level, but Charlie has pretty much resigned himself to the single life, and whatever hopes he has regarding Roxanne are dashed after she confesses her crush on Chris (Rick Rossovich), a decent but dopey rookie firefighter. After facilitating their first meeting, Charlie can’t simply step back and let the relationship unfold naturally. If he isn’t able to have Roxanne for himself, then he intends to live vicariously through Chris, who is such a bumbler that he seems doomed to completely crash and burn without Charlie’s help.

The bulk of the movie, then, involves Charlie waxing poetic for Roxanne but attributing the words to Chris. In some cases, he tells Chris what to say; in others, he spouts the words himself under cover of night. Mostly, though, he sends letters. Lots and lots of letters. Charlie is a brilliant writer whose florid prose makes Roxanne swoon, but how long can he pull off this deception? And how long will he want to?

While the first half of Cyrano de Bergerac has a largely comical flavor to it, it turns tragic by the end. Martin takes considerable liberties with the screenplay in that regard, furnishing a much more Hollywood-style happy ending. Additionally, his characters are not nearly as chaste as the ones written by Edmond Rostand. There is plenty of innuendo in this movie, along with an implied hook-up or two. The core relationships are pretty similar, however. Chris is a handsome young simpleton, Charlie is his verbose mentor, Roxanne is the lovely woman both men admire. While Chris is pretty likable, it’s immediately apparent that Charlie is a better match for the vibrant Roxanne.

While it’s fun to watch Charlie and Chris try to woo Roxanne together without her catching on, the hands-down best scene in the movie is the bar scene early on in which Charlie, in an effort to humiliate a man who has dared to insult his nose, rattles off 23 more creative ways in which he could have phrased his slight. Martin gets to show off his rapid-fire wit here as his clever jabs fly fast and furious. While most of the comedy in this movie stems from verbosity, there is also some purely visual humor, most notably a scene that finds Roxanne locked out of her house with no clothes. Charlie, Chris and Roxanne drive all the action in the movie, but small roles by Fred Willard, Shelly Duvall and John Kapelos add to the humor.

Roxanne is a little bit raunchier than I would have liked, but for the most part, it retains the core of sweetness and celebration of intellectual prowess that is in the original play - which, whether you come to it by way of Steve Martin or Wishbone, truly is a classic.

When You Wish Upon a Chipmunk, Your Dreams of a Great Album Don't Come True

I love Alvin and the Chipmunks, and I’m one of the biggest Disney fans around, so I was intrigued when I saw that this fictional band of high-pitched critters had done an entire album devoted to Disney music. Perhaps I should have worried, given my disappointment with the Chipmunks’ experimentation with the Beatles. But I wanted to give the album a whirl anyway, and what I found was that this is not an album that represents the Chipmunks very well. They do a good job of imitating the sound of the original songs, but there’s little humor or genuine personality to be found.

Hakuna Matata - This cheerful song seems appropriate for the Chipmunks, especially exuberant Alvin. They don’t do much with it, though, aside from adding a further reference to Pumbaa’s gastronomical issues. One of the Chipmunks - I think it’s Simon, though I can’t be sure - portrays Pumbaa, making himself sound gruff but still warthog-like. Except they change the word “warthog” to “chipmunk,” so the whole thing doesn’t make that much sense. At least it’s a peppy way to start the album off.

I’ve Got No Strings - If the first song stuck pretty close to the original, this one turns the Pinocchio song into a techno mix in which Alvin, having just broken up with his girlfriend Brittany, asserts how happy he is to be independent. An interesting take, but after the banter at the beginning of the song, I expected the conversation to continue. It never does, and the Chipettes sound a little strange singing those verses from the movie in their high-pitched phony accents.

Friend Like Me - There’s a lot of comedy in this one, with the boys switching off on doing silly voices in imitation of the Genie in Aladdin. It’s a fun song, though since their voices are rarely their own, it’s hard to tell which of the Chipmunks is singing when.

Kiss the Girl - Alvin is the unwilling recipient of this stream of advice from Theodore and Simon, who don Caribbean accents for this song from The Little Mermaid. They think he has a crush on Vanessa, a character who seems to have been invented for this track, perhaps in homage to the granddaughter of Ross Bagdasarian, Sr., who created the Chipmunks. Alvin is mortified by their meddling, though whether that’s because he doesn’t like the girl or because he does isn’t entirely clear...

Colors of the Wind - The Chipettes take on this stirring song from Pocahontas. It’s a pretty somber song, and they sing it as such. Their version is respectful and very similar to the movie, except that there are more voices and they harmonize rather nicely. Pretty but a bit dull.

Be Our Guest - Another straightforward take on an iconic song from a Disney movie, this time Beauty and the Beast. It’s a very busy and chaotic song, but it still doesn’t feel very Chipmunky, though it is fun to hear Alvin don a French accent and Brittany a British one.

He’s a Tramp - Brittany sings the blues over Alvin’s rascally nature with some help from her fellow Chipettes Eleanor and Jeanette. They bring an R&B flavor to the song, which incorporates the occasional barking of dogs in the background to serve as a reminder that this was a song from Lady and the Tramp.

The Three Caballeros - This song seems very fitting for the Chipmunks, since it’s all about how these three chums are always together. It’s also the most obscure song on the album, which makes it rather interesting. The lively brass and the guys’ harmonizing makes it a fun song, though all the whistling and girl-ogling they do seems slightly age-inappropriate.

Under the Sea - The Chipmunks bust out their impression of Sebastian the crab again, which feels a bit repetitive; I’m a little surprised they included two songs showcasing the same character. Like Kiss the Girl, this is a peppy song, but it lacks any banter and pretty much just sounds like the somebody is playing the Little Mermaid soundtrack on high speed.

When You Wish Upon a Star - Brittany closes out the album with a tender rendition of this classic from Pinocchio as the rest of the gang provides back-up. A soothing finale to the album.

Kids love Disney movies and kids love Alvin and the Chipmunks, so this seems like a natural pairing, and maybe its intended audience will simply be satisfied with the silliness of all those high-pitched voices. But for me, what makes the Chipmunks so great is the comical banter and the ways in which they mold songs to accentuate the individual personalities of Alvin, Simon and Theodore, as well as Brittany, Eleanor and Jeanette - though I tend to prefer albums without the Chipettes. I'd much rather have Dave Seville, the Chipmunks' frazzled guardian, who isn't on the album at all.

This CD feels a bit slapped together, trying to cash in on the popularity of Disney music at the height of the 1990s, when Disney was clearly on a winning streak. It’s a fun album to listen to once, but instead of When You Wish Upon a Chipmunk, I’d suggest just sticking with the original movie soundtracks.

No One Pulls Off An Orange-Peel Grin Like John Locke - Now In Bobblehead Form!

I hate to think that I have too many things in common with Dwight Schrute, the uber-eccentric beet farmer / assistant manager on The Office who seems to thrive on making his coworkers’ lives difficult, but I can come up with at least two odd interests that we share. We’re both fans of LOST, and we both have a peculiar fondness for bobbleheads. So while I have yet to see a character from my dearly departed favorite drama bobbing along on Dwight’s desk, I have to suspect that he would approve of the John Locke bobblehead just released from Bif Bang Pow!

John is the sixth LOST character to get the bobblehead treatment, and like his predecessors, he stands seven inches high. I’ve designated the piano as my bobblehead display area of choice, so to the left, I have the trio released in February, along with the shifty Ben Linus from last summer, and John and Claire stand apart from the others on the right. This feels fitting, considering that not only is John the only one of the bobblehead characters to have interacted much with Claire (save Hurley, who hasn‘t been released yet), he took a rather intense interest in her for about a season, serving as a protector for her and her baby, Aaron. That role came to be subverted in the sixth season, but as that’s not really John’s fault, I prefer not to dwell on that too much.

LOST is largely a character study, and very few characters underwent as many strange twists and turns as John. I find it interesting that while the other two bobbleheads in this second wave of 2010 depict characters in their season six states, this one takes us back to the very beginning of the show. John has always been a character who fascinated me more than most, so I knew I’d have to snag him for my collection no matter what he looked like, but I burst into delighted laughter the moment I saw what this bobblehead would look like.

John Locke, so expertly portrayed by the amazingly expressive Terry O’Quinn, has taken part in many of the show’s most iconic moments, but all these years later, one of my favorites remains the tiny scene from the epic pilot episode in which renegade Kate looks up from her distasteful task of swiping the boots off a fallen passenger to see John’s slowly widening smile. In his mouth is a slice of orange, with the orange peel facing out so that she sees only the peel instead of his teeth.

It’s a wonderful moment that reveals so much about John with a tiny gesture. First off, we see that he is resilient and self-sufficient, as he has procured an orange and neatly excised a slice with his knife, an instrument which will come to be strongly associated with him. Second, it shows that he has a sense of humor. While John is one of the most tragic characters in the series, many of his lines and gestures are subtly funny, especially as acted by O’Quinn. Despite his darker qualities and unfortunate past, John is one of the characters who most consistently makes me laugh.

At the same time, it establishes him as someone who tries to help and encourage others. Though he sometimes strays wildly from this role, season one finds him taking every opportunity he can to mentor his fellow castaways, some of whom react to him with as much disdain as Kate does in this scene. That’s largely because there’s just something very strange about John Locke. Most of the people around him sense that there’s something just a little off about him, and it’s hard to dispute that when he’s sporting a big orange grin and has a long scar running along the right side of his face, punctuated by his eye. Creases and wrinkles in his forehead and cheeks and around his eyes accentuate both his age and his joie de vivre.

I’m so glad that whoever designed this bobblehead chose this moment to capture. It’s quintessential John, and the figure brings that across perfectly. We’ve got John Locke, standing tall on a vaguely round base that looks like a patch of sand, grinning out at the world with a beneficent, albeit slightly crazed, smile. This is a John renewed, thrilled to finally find himself in a place that feels like home and to be freed of the painful restrictions so unfairly placed upon him. No matter how many times he stumbles in the episodes that follow, some hint of this euphoric beginning is always evident.

The words “John Locke” stand out in white with black trim along the front of the base, while “LOST” is written across the back. John wears shiny black shoes, or perhaps boots, with thick soles but no hint of laces. His pants are khaki, while his checked button-up shirt is pale blue. His left arm rests at his side, with his hand clutching the knife that he has just used. His right arm is bent at the elbow so that the orange he holds in his open palm rests right around the middle of his shirt. The skin tone on his arms and head is natural, if perhaps a bit on the light side; then again, I’ve grown used to seeing him tan from months out in the hot sun.

Because John is bald, his ears stand out much more prominently than those on any of the other bobbleheads. They seem to have a slightly Elven quality about them when I look at them from a distance, though upon close inspection they are more curved than pointed. Whatever their shape, they stick out usefully; just give one of them a little tap, and John’s head will start to jiggle.

John is the first character in this series to also have been a part of the McFarlane toy line that, sadly, ended prematurely a couple years ago. Those incredibly detailed figures also came with sound chips, and that spoiled me a bit. That said, it would be a little strange to hear John speaking when he clearly has his mouth full of fruit. Though he’s harder to come by these days, I do heartily recommend the McFarlane John Locke action figure for its intricate details, its poseability and its quotes from the show. I’m still amused whenever a push of a button causes a resounding Terry O’Quinn snarl of “DON’T EVER TELL ME WHAT I CAN’T DO! EVER!!”

I’m less impressed with what I’ve seen of the new action figure forthcoming from Bif Bang Pow! It’s not nearly as detailed, and the hinges look extremely clunky. What’s more, you have to buy him with Hurley, and though I would suspect that any big fan of the show wouldn’t mind that in theory, this Hurley is downright funny-looking. It makes me sad that these figures look so much less like their on-screen counterparts than the McFarlane figures, mostly because there’s a set featuring Jacob and his nemesis, as depicted in the opening scene of the season five finale. Those are two characters I’d love to have, but the resemblance just isn’t strong enough for me, especially when it comes to the Man in Black; if I could purchase Jacob separately, I might be seriously tempted to buy him.

All this is to say that while there are other versions of John available, one of which is well worth having, I still heartily recommend the Bif Bang Pow! bobblehead, which retails for $13 at Entertainment Earth or $15 at ABC’s LOST store. This is a fun and finely crafted figure capturing one of his most iconic scenes; of all the figures in the series thus far, I think it does the best job of giving us a specific character-revealing moment.

John Locke is a hardy fellow, but he’s certainly not invincible; by the same token, this resin figure may become cracked if you’re not careful with him. He does come in a large box with molded plastic so that he can be moved safely, and of course, you can keep him in the box at all times if you prefer, though given John’s long, ugly history with boxes both on and off the Island, this seems rather cruel. I’ll take my chances with keeping him on the piano, in easy sight of the kitchen. If anything ever mysteriously disappears from the fruit bowl, I know who my prime suspect will be...

Even Larry Can Learn From a Princess Story in Sweetpea Beauty

I’m always happy to see that a new VeggieTales video is about to be released. I got wind of Sweetpea Beauty early in the summer, so I knew that I would have another helping of computer-animated Veggie goodness to look forward to. This particular installment, like Esther of several years ago, specifically targets a female audience, though the kitchentop sequence largely concerns Larry the Cucumber’s self-image issues, which evens things out a bit. Nonetheless, both stories in Sweetpea Beauty are very much in the tradition of Disney’s princess tales, and most of the major characters are female.

Petunia and Annie, two of the series’ most sedate characters, take the lead in running the show after they find Larry bemoaning his silly appearance. Of all the Veggies, I probably relate most to Annie, a quiet youngster with glasses and short brown hair, and she is one of the most little-used characters in the series, so I was pleased to see her here. Petunia, meanwhile, has become increasingly prominent since her first appearance in Duke and the Great Pie War, usually appearing as a level-headed foil for goofball Larry. There also tends to be a hint of romance in their interaction with each other, though this is generally underplayed. At this point, she has probably become the main female character in the series, eclipsing even Laura Carrot, young Junior Asparagus’s best friend, and vain Madame Blueberry.

Snoodlerella, the first of two stories presented in this video, is a companion piece to A Snoodle’s Tale, which came out in 2004. Both are set in the same whimsical world populated by strange beings who look a bit like gourds with wings, and both are narrated by an unseen Bob the Tomato in a style strongly influenced by Dr. Seuss.

Snoodlerella is a pretty straightforward retelling of the story of Cinderella, but in this case, the young Snoodle for whom the tale is named does not escape the ball at the stroke of midnight. Instead, though the homely girl’s clothes are reduced to rags and her glasses and braces return, she receives a special audience with the wise King, who informs her that she is beautiful just the way she is. Although this story is populated with unfamiliar characters, most children watching will be able to connect them with the Cinderella tale, and longtime Veggie fans will enjoy this trip back into the world of Snoodles, complete with the voice of Tim Hodge, who brings a regal warmth to a character who was previously only heard.

The Silly Song is a rather dizzying ditty called Pants that calls for Larry, a salesman on the Veggie Shopping Network, to sing a song convincing home viewers to buy pants from him. This is an especially silly concept because Veggies, lacking legs, do not wear traditional two-legged pants. It goes with the theme of the video well because it has to do with society trying to push a certain brand of beauty upon people. It’s also the only part of the episode primarily featuring male characters. It’s a fun song, but it’s also rather annoying; while that emphasizes the point that such sales pitches probably are best ignored, it also makes for a Silly Song that probably isn’t going to attain Classic status.

The title segment, Sweetpea Beauty, is an homage to any number of fairy tales. While it borrows most heavily from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and, to a lesser extent, Sleeping Beauty, fairy tale fans will also recognize references to such stories as The Princess and the Pea, Goldilocks and the Three Bears and Rapunzel, along with what I took to be a nod to the Danny Kaye comedy The Court Jester. Additionally, much of the story is narrated by a pair of singing minstrels played by Jerry Gourd and Mr. Lunt.

Petunia plays Sweetpea Beauty, the kind-hearted commoner whose best friend is Prince Larry. Little does she or the prince realize that the misguided queen (Madame Blueberry), under the advisement of a sinister magic mirror, plans to give her an everlasting sleeping potion so that she will never be a threat to her sovereignty in this kingdom where the crown can only be worn by the fairest woman in the land. While Sweetpea is as lovely as any fairy tale princess, it’s her inner beauty - and her ability to see the beauty in all things, from mud puddles to skunks - that is celebrated throughout the story, and that’s what the insecure queen must struggle to understand as she decides whether or not to take the mirror’s advice.

As with the rest of the Veggie videos, Sweetpea Beauty features excellent animation, upbeat music, zany humor, memorable characters and an important lesson. In this case, the message is that God made each person beautiful in his or her own way and that traits like kindness and faithfulness are more important than physical appearances. While I do think that this particular video might appeal less to boys than most, Larry’s antics throughout the video, along with Sweetpea’s tomboyish tendencies, make this a Veggie outing likely to entertain anyone who isn’t turned off by all the princess talk.

Fireproof Encourages Troubled Couples to Revitalize Their Marriage

I’m a child of the 80s, so like many of my generation, I grew up watching Kirk Cameron on Growing Pains, but it’s been years since I saw him in anything, so he was one of the reasons I was interested in watching Fireproof, a little movie by Sherwood Pictures that made a bit of a splash when it hit theaters in 2008. Written and directed by Alex and Stephen Kendrick, Fireproof encourages troubled couples to seek marriage resolution in a Christian context. It’s a movie with a message, but it also entertains.

Kirk Cameron, the only actor in the film with more than three movies to his credit, plays Caleb Holt, a fire chief who can’t seem to see eye to eye with his wife Catherine (Erin Bethea) anymore. In their limited time together, the two are constantly fighting, as neither feels that the other is properly respectful or attentive. Caleb is so fed up that when Catherine demands a divorce, he readily accepts the idea. But a chat with his dad (Harris Malcolm) convinces him to go through with “the love dare,” a 40-day challenge to revitalize his marriage.

The primary focus of the movie is on the relationship between Caleb and Catherine, who works at a hospital and is stressed to the max about her mother’s ailing health. While she visits her parents a couple times a week, she desperately wishes she could get them the medical equipment they need. Also distracting her is a handsome doctor who flirts with her frequently at work. I found her character sympathetic but also cold, since she is so utterly unresponsive to most of Caleb’s attempts to regain her favor. This is partly because a coworker suggests that he is trying to scam her into getting a better divorce settlement. Nonetheless, she seems excessively icy, especially after Caleb is seriously injured rescuing a child from a fire. She also has the least natural-sounding dialogue of all the characters in the movie.

Unsurprisingly, considering how much more experienced he is, I thought Cameron gave the strongest performance in the movie, and his character does transform from someone who is angry much of the time into a man who is humble and grateful for the people he has in his life. I also enjoyed Ken Bevel as Michael, the devout Christian who works with Caleb and shares both wisdom and humor in his talks with him. The firehouse camaraderie between these two and the three junior firefighters, all of whom are there mostly for comic relief, contributes some nice levity to the film while also showing the importance of having supportive friends. Meanwhile, the movie’s two big action sequences are well-shot and quite intense.

Fireproof is a movie that is geared largely to Christians, so there’s some element of preaching to the choir at play here as Caleb eventually becomes more open to the Biblical foundation his father tries to lay down for him. Nonetheless, the exciting firefighting sequences and the widely applicable tips for improving a rocky relationship increase its general appeal, and the heavy-handed moments are sprinkled pretty naturally into the story. I see that the Kendricks have another movie coming out in 2011; here’s hoping they do just as well with the next one.

Robert DeNiro Turns Ben Stiller Into a Bumbling Buffoon in Meet the Parents

When I was taking guitar lessons, one of the songs I played was Puff the Magic Dragon, which prompted my teacher to ask if I’ve ever seen Meet the Parents. He explained that the song’s marijuana-related interpretation was discussed in the movie, which he deemed hilarious, so when a friend decided to give away her VHS collection and Meet the Parents was on the list, I put in my request. Last night I finally got to see whether I agreed with his assessment.

Ben Stiller plays Greg Focker, a low-key, likable guy who works as a nurse, a profession he enjoys because it allows him to have such close contact with patients. He’s been dating Pam Byrnes (Teri Polo), a sweet-natured kindergarten teacher, and he’s cooked up an adorable marriage proposal that gets her students in on the big moment. But before he can pop the question, Pam gets a call from her sister Deborah informing her of her engagement, which was preceded by her fiance’s asking her father for permission. Hence, Greg decides that he needs to ask permission as well.

He gets his chance two weeks later, when he accompanies Pam home for the weekend for Deborah’s wedding. After a fairly congenial initial meeting, Greg and Pam’s father, Jack (Robert DeNiro), get off on the wrong foot when Pam lets it slip that Greg hates cats. Then, on the way to the store, Greg cracks a joke about Puff the Magic Dragon that offends Jack and makes him suspect that his daughter’s boyfriend is a pothead. What follows is a weekend of increasing disaster as keyed-up Greg manages to make just about every possible mis-step.

My parents aren’t especially big fans of Ben Stiller, but I usually find his performances pretty enjoyable. Here, he’s easy to sympathize with; he certainly sells us on the awkwardness of the situation. On the other hand, Greg does some incredibly stupid things, like lying to Jack throughout the weekend even though he knows how deeply this man values honesty and how skilled he is at knowing when someone is lying. Most of his stupidest moves involve Jack’s beloved, talented cat, Mr. Jinx, a thorn in his side from the moment they meet. It doesn’t help that not only Jack but Deborah’s fiance and his father all find it hilarious that he is a nurse. At least Pam’s mom (Blythe Danner) is pretty accepting of Greg, but she doesn’t have the forceful personality of those around her.

As amusing as Stiller is in his role, it’s DeNiro who steals the show with his understated but intimidating performance as a man who is deeply devoted to his daughter and incredibly suspicious of anyone who wants to sweep her off her feet. The dynamic between him and Greg is intense, with the latter constantly feeling threatened despite Jack’s frequent friendly overtures. By the end of the weekend, I found myself more sympathetic toward Jack than Greg, since Greg is such a walking disaster who manages to wreak incredible havoc on this man’s home in a couple of short days.

This movie, like the recently released Dinner for Schmucks and dozens of similar movies, is largely dependent upon mass destruction. A broken vase here, a broken nose there, and before you know it you’re watching a sewage-filled backyard go up in flames. It all gets to feel a bit excessive, especially since you can see most of the disasters coming from a mile away. Still, many of the gags are funny, and DeNiro and Stiller are great together. I also got a kick out of Owen Wilson, who so often appears in movies alongside Stiller, as Pam’s wealthy, affable ex-fiance Kevin, who is such an earnest Christian that he has decided to take up carpentry, for which he has an exceptional talent. While Kevin may be a bit over-the-top, I found nothing unlikable about him, and I would be curious to see how he might be integrated into the second and third movies in the series.

Meet the Parents is a less offensive movie than I might have expected from Jay Roach, who also directed the Austin Powers series. While there is some innuendo, it’s certainly not at an Austin level, and there’s little profanity, since this weekend is all about making a good impression on a fairly conservative family - though the characters do have way too much fun with Greg’s last name. What it does have in spades is cringe-worthy scenes involving the obliteration of personal property, so if you find that sort of thing gets old really fast, this movie might not be for you. But alongside the mishaps is the story of two young people who are deeply committed to one another and two parents who have very different approaches but both want to see their daughter happy. For that, I’m willing to wade through a little sludge.

Love Blooms Between Fish and Boy in Ponyo

I’ve been a fan of The Little Mermaid since the Disney version hit theaters when I was in second grade, and I’ve heard many accolades directed at Hayao Miyazaki, the man who helmed such critically acclaimed films as Howl’s Moving Castle and Princess Mononoke. Hence, I was very curious about Ponyo, a Japanese re-imagining of the Hans Christian Andersen tale of a mermaid who dreams of becoming human.

I’ve seen foreign films dubbed into English before, but one thing that makes Ponyo different is the fact that so many of the voice actors are familiar, including Liam Neeson, Tina Fey, Cate Blanchett, Cloris Leachman, Lily Tomlin and Betty White. Meanwhile, the children at the heart of the movie are from famous families; Frankie Jonas is brother to the Jonas Brothers, while Noah Lindsey Cyrus is Miley Cyrus’s sister. Having so many well-known voices in the movie was fun, albeit slightly distracting as I tried to figure out which actor was attached to each of the characters.

One identification that never eluded me was Neeson as Fujimoto, Ponyo’s overprotective father who has the force of the ocean at his command. He is similar in many ways to King Triton, his counterpart in the Disney film, but the character I kept thinking of was Bryan Mills, the distraught, dangerous dad in the 2008 thriller Taken. Like Bryan, he goes to extraordinary extremes to retrieve his daughter after she vanishes, causing me to conclude that whether he is in live-action or animated form, you simply do not mess with Liam Neeson’s daughter. In Ponyo, the whole town must pay the price for Ponyo’s disappearance as he subjects them to horrific flooding while he searches for his little fish-girl, even though she clearly is on land of her own volition.

Ponyo bears only the most basic of similarities to The Little Mermaid. The headstrong daughter of an undersea monarch escapes her humdrum underwater existence after befriending a human boy. The main characters are much younger in this instance, so while there is still an element of romantic love at play here, this is not a movie that’s going to end in a wedding. Sosuke and Ponyo are still just small children, so it’s little wonder that Fujimoto is so concerned, though his determination to punish all of humanity, whom he already loathes for their ecological carelessness, is a tad excessive.

The Little Mermaid’s Prince Eric is one of the more interesting of the traditional Disney princes, but he’s still not exactly a fully realized character. In this film, Sosuke is much more fleshed out than the princess. A lively, compassionate little boy, he delights in visiting the elderly ladies at the nursing home near his school and operating the beacon in his lighthouse to signal to his seafaring father that he is on the lookout for him.

When he and Ponyo first meet, she is still a “goldfish” - though she looks like no goldfish I ever saw. She doesn’t even look like a fish. Rather, she is a strange blob with a humanoid face and four appendages that vaguely resemble human limbs. But Sosuke loves her instantly and scoops her up out of the water to claim for his pet. Ponyo doesn’t mind being snatched up; she returns Sosuke’s affection and quickly develops a taste for human food as she snatches some ham from his sandwich. This simple act is an essential component in her later transformation into a little girl of few words who really, really LOVES ham, as she loudly proclaims on several occasions.

There is an environmentalist thread that runs through this film as Miyazaki uses the wild-looking Fujimoto to express discontent with the excesses of humanity and demonstrate how people might come to pay for disregarding ecological matters. But mostly, this is a story of love, pure and simple. Ponyo and Sosuke are as open-hearted as children can be, embracing each other and everyone around them with expansive enthusiasm and kindness. Among the voice actors, intimidating Neeson, harried Fey and affable White make the biggest impression, with Fey having a particularly hefty role as Sosuke’s devoted but frazzled mother.

Ponyo is beautifully animated, though some of the visual elements of the movie are strange indeed, particularly the various sea creatures who aid or hinder Ponyo in her quest. In addition to looking exceedingly odd, Ponyo sounds quite crazed most of the time, causing me to burst out laughing at nearly all of her dialogue. Equally silly is the bouncy end-credits song that starts in immediately after the movie concludes. Meanwhile, my mom was horrified at the erratic driving habits of Sosuke’s mother, which, like several aspects of the movie, are exaggerated to a rather absurd degree. There’s an element of strangeness to the film that makes it hard for me to embrace completely, but for the most part, I found Ponyo to be a fresh and very sweet twist on an old tale.