Wednesday, November 30, 2011

A Little Kitten Causes Big Trouble in Mickey Mouse: The Kitten-Sitters

Cats can be very deceptive creatures. They spend hours curled up quietly on the couch, and it’s hard to imagine that these placid felines will wake you up in the middle of the night by knocking a pan off the kitchen stove. In the classic Little Golden Book Mickey Mouse: The Kitten Sitters, Minnie Mouse’s kitten has her fooled entirely, and she’s sure he will be a perfect little angel for Mickey and his nephews when they agree to watch him while she is away.

I remember reading a book with a similar storyline when I was a kid, though that one was a part of one of Disney’s home libraries and had more of a warm and fuzzy conclusion. In both stories, Pluto feels displaced by the special guest, but here, Mickey sympathizes with Pluto from the beginning. While he wants his lovable dog to be polite, he, Morty and Ferdie all notice that little Figaro has a real knack for causing trouble and can’t blame the pooch too much for being rather lacking in hospitality. Still, when the kitten disappears in the middle of the night, Mickey wastes no time in enlisting the sleepy Pluto’s aid. Can this old dog learn the new trick of locating an unruly houseguest?

This is a mostly funny story showing the disconnect between what Minnie believes and what Mickey observes. It’s interesting to see Figaro transplanted into Mickey’s world from the movie Pinocchio, though this isn’t the first time I have encountered him there. He has a scampish streak in Geppetto’s workshop too, but this book is as naughty as I’ve ever seen him. Of course, there’s also something inherently odd about a mouse having a pet cat, but Mickey and Minnie have always been more human than mouse.

This book has a rather drab color scheme that gives it a retro feel. Because most pages depict domestic disasters, most of the facial expressions on Mickey and his nephews are somewhere on the spectrum between worried and panicked. Figaro is missing in action for much of the book, with only the immediate aftermath of his activities visible, but when he appears, he looks either smug or devilishly mischievous. Minnie, meanwhile, spends a lot of time scolding others – everyone, it seems, except her precious bundle of fur. In fact, she comes across as quite obnoxious, and if Mickey seems to be happy to get a break from her nagging, it’s easy to understand why.

The story is simple but entertaining, with dialogue driving most of the action. The unnamed author uses mild repetition to good effect, such as when Mickey tells Pluto to be nice because he is a guest, prompting Morty’s later remark that he is a messy guest and Ferdie’s that he is a fussy guest. Meanwhile, Pluto’s actions help readers get inside his head as he reacts to this adorable little troublemaker.

Whether you love cats or hate them, Mickey Mouse: The Kitten-Sitters is an amusing tale acknowledging that there might be more to these purring furballs than meets the eye.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

The Weirdness of Jon Scieszka and Alice in Wonderland Mesh in This Picture Book

Disney has presented many fantastical worlds that I have longed to enter. I’ve wanted to soar over the island of Neverland with Peter Pan and ride a carousel horse through the countryside in Bert’s chalk drawing, and I always thought the Hundred-Acre Wood would be a mighty nice place to settle down. However, one place I never particularly wanted to visit was Wonderland.

Yes, the Lewis Carroll story is richly imaginative. Yes, Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel became friends after appearing together in an elementary school adaptation of the classic. Yes, it was a major influence on LOST. However, none of that changes the fact that it Freaks. Me. Out. If I’m going to go tumbling off into a magical realm, I’d prefer one that feels a little less antagonistic.

Alice in Wonderland is a weird story. Jon Scieszka, the prolific author of such skewered tales as The True Story of the Three Little Pigs! and The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales, seems an inspired choice to retell it for the recent picture book edition of the Disney version, which is illustrated with concept art created by iconic Disney artist Mary Blair when the movie was being developed. Like the comparable editions of Cinderella and Peter Pan, this is missing a couple of characters, but the main ones are accounted for, from the big-grinned Cheshire Cat and the terrifying Queen of Hearts to the dopey Tweedledee and Tweedledum and the batty Mad Hatter.

Scieszka writes with a rambly style here, capturing Alice’s confusion and the way that her mind darts from one subject to the next. He also frequently directly addresses the reader, encouraging identification with Alice. In fact, the book begins with a question, and it’s one that I imagine countless children could answer in the affirmative: “Have you ever tried to listen to a long, boring schoolbook on a warm, lazy day?”

The look of the book is very eye-catching, with different colors serving as the backdrops for each page of text. Shades of pink, green, yellow, blue and purple alternate, sometimes with illustrations creeping toward the text, sometimes with nothing but the words on the page. Most paintings take up a full page, however, and these are very vibrant and sometimes a bit alarming. The Walrus looks downright malevolent as he marches a line of curious oysters off to their doom, and fierce flowers appear on several pages. On the other hand, the small painting of Alice and the White Rabbit standing side by side against a pale pink backdrop is thoroughly charming.

While I don’t like it quite as much as the other two picture books featuring Blair’s concept art, Alice in Wonderland certainly allows readers to feel that they have fallen into a dreamscape just like Alice, who, Scieszka notes, spends such a long time in the air during her descent through the rabbit hole that she is able to mentally do all the homework she was avoiding under the tree (though most of it is incorrect).

“You know how it is with some people,” Scieszka writes toward the end of his tale. “Sometimes they get too grown up to understand.” Alice in Wonderland is a tale about holding onto the gifts of a vivid imagination. That is a notion I can certainly get behind, even if Alice’s mind happens to be a pretty scary place.

Monday, November 28, 2011

The Muppets: "Life's a Happy Song When There's Someone By Your Side to Sing Along"

Just about every year, it seems that there is one movie that I anticipate above all others. While 2011 had many promising candidates – including my beloved Winnie the Pooh and Harry Potter facing off against each other in the middle of summer – there was one film that had me aquiver with excitement from the time I first heard rumors of its release. Of course, it helped that it had the cleverest, most persistent ad campaign of any movie I can recall, expertly spoofing multiple genres while demonstrating its ability to appeal to a broad audience. I’m speaking, naturally, of The Muppets, the James Bobin-directed movie that launches Kermit the Frog and all his felt friends onto the big screen for the first time in more than a decade. While television specials and viral videos have helped them maintain a presence in recent years, The Muppets feels like a joyous return to the glory days of those madcap mischief-makers whose merriment brought mirth to millions.

It takes a special kind of person to get the Muppets in such a visceral way as to be able to revive them for a cynical generation. When I heard that Jason Segel was not just starring but actually co-writing the screenplay, I thought, “You know, this could be a very good thing.” While some of his recent projects have had a decidedly off-color streak, I will always recall Segel first as sweetly goofy aspiring drummer Nick Andopolis on the sadly short-lived high school dramedy Freaks and Geeks, and the endearing idealism he brought to that character seems a perfect fit for Jim Henson’s relentlessly positive creations. Together with Nicholas Stoller, he crafted a screenplay as innocent as it is exuberant – a movie that dares to demonstrate that there is room in this world for hope, togetherness and splashy musical numbers… and maybe an ill-timed explosion or two.

Segel plays Gary, a lovable grown-up kid who still shares a house with his little brother, his best friend. The brotherly affection between Gary and Walter, earnestly voiced by Peter Linz, is so genuine that it never feels weird that one is a man and one is a Muppet. In fact, it hearkens back to the peculiar brotherhood between Kermit and Fozzie Bear in The Great Muppet Caper. These are characters who have always transcended the traditional boundaries of family. Still, living in a tiny town surrounded by humans, Walter feels out of place, even with the world’s most supportive big brother looking out for him. His discovery of the Muppets as a child quickly bloomed into an obsession, a dream of a different destiny. Now, years later, Walter is childlike as ever and about to achieve a lifelong dream. But what kind of growing up will be required for him to take that all-important step?

Walter is truly the heart of the movie, a representation of those devoted fans for whom the luster of the Muppets has never dimmed. Like Kermit in The Muppet Movie, he is a dreamer in search of a connection, but because The Muppet Show pointed the way for him, he knows just where to find it. It’s a story of self-discovery, of letting go and reconnecting, and all those who ever laughed until they cried over Gonzo’s cannon-shot chickens and Fozzie’s groan-worthy jokes will understand the euphoria emblazoned on Walter’s flexible face as his heroes gradually gather for a raucous reunion.

These are the viewers who will best appreciate all of the in-jokes and the cameos from lesser-known Muppets, to say nothing of the wistfully funny situations in which the main players find themselves. The newly initiated, meanwhile, can have fun pointing out all the human celebrities, from contemporary child stars Selena Gomez and Modern Family’s Rico Rodriguez to elder statesmen Mickey Rooney and Alan Arkin. Jack Black gets more screen time than most as Animal’s disgruntled anger management sponsor, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who geeked out over the revelation of who Walter would look like if he were human.

Then, of course, a menacing Chris Cooper is the oil baron darkly commiserating with his paltry band of sycophants as the fate of the Muppet Studio Theatre hangs in balance, while Amy Adams brings her usual brand of sunshine with a spritzer of vulnerability to Mary, a hands-on teacher so beloved by her students they dread spring break but unable to secure a commitment from the man she’s dated for a decade. Like Segel, she seems a perfect fit for the Muppets’ harmonious mayhem.

Speaking of harmonies, there are some great ones in this movie that features several original songs written by Bret McKenzie, one-half of the brilliantly batty New Zealand folk-comedy duo Flight of the Conchords. His style meshes marvelously with the Muppets’ fine fusion of silliness and warmth, with the two standouts the soul-searching duet between the brothers and the lavish group number we hear at both the beginning and end of the movie. Beyond that, we get classic Muppet fare like Rainbow Connection and Mahna Mahna with a new twist or two, along with a few regular radio hits. If I’d had any lingering doubt as to whether they were going to pull this off, I would have relinquished it in sheer delight over the opening montage set to the sprightly strains of a song Paul Simon once performed on Sesame Street.

However, even before the movie started I was grinning over the Toy Story short Small Fry, which pokes fun at poorly conceived kids’ meal toys at fast food restaurants. On a trip to a medieval-themed chicken joint, Buzz Lightyear falls prey to a nefarious plot by a miniature Buzz who has languished too long in the display case. After a romp in the ball pit, Little Buzz makes his way into Bonnie’s backpack to hobnob with Woody and the gang while the real Buzz wanders into a group therapy session for discarded toys led by a militant mermaid voiced by Jane Lynch. Askew versions of beloved characters and a bunch of oddballs finding solace in each other appropriately foreshadows what’s to come in the movie proper.

More than 15 years ago, Pixar established itself as a studio capable of bringing that rare blend of sly wit and wholesome fun that, coupled with a compelling story, makes an ideal family film. The Jim Henson Company has always offered that type of entertainment, so The Muppets is truly a joy from pre-start to finish. While reflecting upon the wonders of the rainbow, a famous frog has postulated, “We know that it’s probably magic.” If we’re talking about the rainbow of marvelous misfits that make up the Muppets, there’s no “probably” about it.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Teen Witches Try to Avert Vacation Disaster in Wizards of Waverly Place: The Movie

I haven’t really kept up with the hit tween shows on the Disney channel, but when the Wizards of Waverly Place movie surfaced as an instant viewing option on Netflix, I decided to give it a whirl. I figured I was in for something family-friendly and relentlessly cheesy, and that’s pretty much what I got. I wouldn’t call this movie, written by Todd Greenwald and Daniel Berendsen and directed by Lev Spiro, a theatrical quality film, but it’s a fairly entertaining way to spend a couple of hours.

The Russos are an unusual family. Dad (David DeLuise) is a wizard who gave up his powers to marry the love of his life, a mortal (Maria Canals-Barrera). The kids inherited their father’s abilities but are in the process of honing them. When the family takes a sunny island vacation, the kids are supposed to leave the magic at home, but that does not end up happening. Instead, they need to use all their ingenuity and magical ability to counteract the effects of a wish inadvertently made by snotty teenager Alex (Selena Gomez). In a fit of aggravation with her mother, she wishes her parents had never met, and the wish actually works, leaving her and her brothers – responsible Justin (David Henrie), the golden boy of the family, and young goofball Max (Jake T. Austen) – scrambling to repair the damage.

While Max focuses, Back to the Future-style, on trying to bring his parents together, Justin and Alex put aside their differences to team up on a cross-island quest to secure the magical object needed to unwish that fateful wish before all three siblings disappear. It’s fun to see the differences in the parents’ personalities; both seem a lot more free-spirited as unattached adults, and laid-back Dad is particularly entertaining. I’m sure that the contrast would be even more amusing to someone who watches the show regularly.

The most engaging part of the movie is Alex and Justin’s quest, which has many of the elements of an Indiana Jones movie. They must battle their way through secret codes, dangerous precipices, the inevitable rope bridge over a chasm and, naturally, a creepy cave full of perilous secrets. There’s ample adventure here, and the new sense of closeness that Justin and Alex develop in the process is touching. That brother-sister relationship is the most compelling element of the movie for me.

Of course, there’s plenty of slapstick, and many of the effects are pretty goofy-looking. Some characters are there almost entirely for comic relief. That’s particularly true of Archie (Steve Valentine), a street magician who is after the same enchanted object as Alex because he hopes to restore his parrot to her rightful form as a beautiful woman. He’s a rival, then, but never a very alarming one, and his antics are amusing in a broadly comical way. Most of the dialogue is pretty cheesy, so that may bring laughs whether they were intended or not. Same goes for the special effects.

Wizards of Waverly Place: The Movie is a fairly nonsensical movie, but it’s also a nice celebration of family, and the lush island setting makes it more appealing. While most adults will probably roll their eyes a bit, this is a fairly fun flick for the target audience.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Ariel Finds Common Ground With Triton's Old Friend in Treasures of Old

Disney’s Storytime Treasures Library is a charming collection of 18 picture books featuring characters from different Disney movies. The seventh volume, Treasures of Old, focuses on Ariel, the headstrong daughter of undersea monarch King Triton. Little Mermaid tie-in books are interesting because they are almost always prequels; after all, if they were sequels, Ariel wouldn’t be a little mermaid anymore. Presumably, this book is meant to take place around the time of the mid-1990s television series.

Lisa Ann Marsoli wrote several of the books in this series, and I’ve come to discover that she is very focused on the theme of friendship, particularly on characters transcending their differences to forge some sort of bond. She repeats the basic storyline in multiple books, which slightly lessens its impact; while I tend to love stories of this type, she doesn’t vary the plot that much from book to book. Considering that the intention is for children to read all of the books in the series, I see this as a weakness since the similarities might bore young readers, and this particular book isn’t quite as well-constructed as others following the same basic pattern.

King Triton is worried because another merking is coming to visit and wants to meet his daughters. He leaves Sebastian the task of giving his daughters a crash course in the social graces, particularly hoping that Ariel will be on her best behavior. For one thing, Triton acts as though he has never before held a banquet for a dignitary. This strikes me as pretty implausible. Ariel doesn’t look significantly younger than she does in the movie, so she’s probably about 15. Has Triton just been a complete recluse all these years?

I also find it rather bothersome that the beginning of the story seems to make a big deal about the fact that Sebastian is the court composer and that he is planning a musical surprise for Triton and his guest, yet when the big day actually arrives, the book makes no mention of it at all. Why bring it up only to ignore it later on? Then there is also the strange format of the poem in the back of the book, which departs from the usual ABCBDEFE format by rhyming the first and fourth lines instead of the second and fourth. It really doesn’t work for the format.

This is a fairly cute story that warns against judging people before you’ve met them. While part of the issue throughout the story is Ariel’s fidgety nature, which makes it hard for her to concentrate on etiquette lessons, the underlying problem is that she is certain the banquet will be boring and that she and her father’s guest will have nothing in common, which turns out not to be true at all.

The book doesn’t really take Ariel to task for her disobedience or lack of punctuality; the focus instead is on the joy of unexpected connections. Ariel’s actions, frustrating as they sometimes are, seem true to character. This book really doesn’t show her at her best, but she eventually takes the trouble to be gracious. The writing is pretty simple, with a paragraph or two on most pages and few words that would pose any problems for early readers. The illustrations are vibrant, effectively capturing the beauty of the undersea kingdom and the personalities of the characters. The only character who seems a bit off is King Mariner, who looks distractingly similar to Triton but with darker hair. It might have been a good idea to make him look a little more distinct.

While Treasures of Old uses beloved characters to demonstrate the fact that a generation gap can be bridged with a bit of effort, the story doesn’t come across as well as it could, so I only mildly recommend it. There are greater treasures to be found in this Disney library.

Friday, November 25, 2011

Disney Princesses Celebrate Inner Beauty

One of the most popular sub-groups within the world of Disney characters is the Disney princesses. This is a group that includes Snow White, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Ariel, Belle, Jasmine, Pocahontas, Mulan (despite not technically being a princess), Tiana and the brand-new tenth member, Rapunzel, who joins the last three in being a late addition to the group. The Princesses have an extensive line of merchandise, including toys, clothes, calendars, books and videos. I recently watched one of these, Princess Stories Volume Three: Beauty Shines From Within.

Given the title, I was surprised to see that Belle, the protagonist of Beauty and the Beast, does not appear on this DVD. Instead, it focuses upon Ariel, Cinderella and Jasmine. Meanwhile, a game in the bonus features involves Ariel, Jasmine and Mulan. The DVD includes three shorts, each of which can be accessed separately, though I watched them straight through. Each includes an introduction by the starring princess in which she directly addresses the audience while speaking from inside of a magic mirror. These segments veer toward condescending and moralizing, and the quality of animation isn’t quite as good. However, I found two of the three main stories quite enjoyable.

Giggles - In this episode of the Little Mermaid television show, Ariel’s tendency to get the giggles annoys an ornery blowfish who speaks in rhyme and uses his magical powers to cast curses. Consequently, he puts a spell on her that causes avalanches to occur whenever she laughs. What’s more, if she tells anyone of her affliction, the effect will be heightened. This is a fun story, and I especially like the way stodgy Sebastian, who initially also is irritated with Ariel for giggling during class, tries to get the princess to lighten up after he notices her somber demeanor. He even sings a fun song about the joy of laughter. The story builds to a satisfying climax that leads to deeper understanding between Ariel and her antagonist.

Cinderella Story - Cinderella is perhaps the most famous of all fairy tales, so even children who have not seen the Disney movie will probably be familiar with the story in one form or another. Hence, this segment, which is simply a recap of the movie, is likely to bore many kids, especially since it has a stilted quality to it. Cinderella narrates a bit, then a page turns and we see a few seconds of a scene, then she narrates some more. The effect is jarring, and I can see a lot of kids wanting to skip past this one.

Eye of the Beholder - This is an episode of the Aladdin television series featuring recurring villain Mirage, an extraterrestrial sorceress with the power to change other people’s appearances. Somewhat reminiscent of the musical Once On This Island, this is the story that best fits the theme of the video as Mirage makes a wager with Phasir, a blind, benevolent magician, that Aladdin will stop loving Jasmine if she ceases to become beautiful. After Mirage tricks her into using some magical skin cream, Jasmine begins transforming into a snake-like creature. Aladdin joins her, Genie, Abu, Iago and Carpet on a quest to find the mystical antidote that grows on a faraway tree, demonstrating at every turn how wrong Mirage is about the frailties of love.

More tales can be found in the Princess Story Builder Game in the special features. Viewers have the opportunity to pick one of three stories, one set in Agrabah, one in Atlantica and one in Ancient China. At several points in the story, kids can use the remote to indicate which of three choices they would like to have the character make. This then directs the course of the tale, though I’m not sure just how much actually changes as I tried each story only once. The stories also incorporate games that require answering three questions correctly in order to progress to the conclusion. These are fun but also rather tedious because there is so much lag time, and it’s easy to lose patience with it.

While I think that an original story in the place of the Cinderella recap would have made for a more interesting video, the Ariel and Jasmine stories are engaging, and apart from the lag time involved at decision points and game segments, the story builder is a fun game. This DVD could be better, but I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend it to young Disney Princess enthusiasts.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

The Ugly Duckling Finds a Place to Belong

Danish storyteller Hans Christian Andersen was a deeply imaginative man who wrote many enduring fairy tales, including The Little Mermaid, The Steadfast Tin Soldier and Thumbelina. Of all the tales he composed, my favorite would probably have to be The Ugly Duckling, a classic story of a misfit who ultimately comes to be seen as beautiful by the very birds who ridiculed him.

Such a story seems a perfect fit for Disney, so it’s little wonder that it was the subject of two Silly Symphonies. The picture book The Ugly Duckling, written by acclaimed children’s author Margaret Wise Brown and illustrated by Gil DiCicco, is an adaptation of the second, which was released in 1939.

This Disney version differs from Andersen’s tale in that the entire story takes place in the title character’s youth. The “ugly duckling” is born to a pair of ducks who ostracize him because he does not resemble their four fluffy yellow ducklings. He is white and much larger than they are, and he makes a peculiar honking noise instead of quacking. Once he realizes that he is unwanted, he meanders through the marshlands looking for someone who will treat him kindly until he finally finds a group of birds with whom he fits in.

The main character is absolutely adorable, full of exuberant energy and eager to face the world with a smile. The lovely watercolor paintings, whose backdrops are rich in natural detail, emphasize how different he is from his siblings while showing that this does not bother him in the slightest. The pictures of him walking around while still mostly inside his shell are especially cute. After the first few pages, his innocent duck-billed grin gives way to sadness as he realizes that nobody wants him around. The illustration in which he gazes at his reflection in the water while a tear trickles down his nose is truly heartbreaking.

Brown weaves the tale through simple but effective language. Aside from some honking, the duck parents are the only characters in the book with any dialogue. We get the sense that this is a bird who is not yet capable of intelligible speech. That increases the lonely feeling of this book, as not only is this youngster on his own, he doesn’t seem able to tell others what is wrong.

The tone here is a bit different than in the original since it’s about acceptance, not vindication. We never see the ducks again at the end of the book, so there’s no moment of realization as they marvel at his beauty. Indeed, he’s still a bit gangly and awkward; it will be some time before he becomes a stately adult. However, he has found a family to love him as he is, and that is all he needs to make him happy. In some ways, then, I think I like this version even better.

The treatment this open-hearted character receives from other birds, particularly his supposed family, is discouraging. They never give him a chance. Then again, the situation is sadly not that uncommon. While the cruelty displayed early in the book is troubling, the affectionate resolution, depicted in a joyous fold-out three-page spread, leaves the reader with a sense of warmth and optimism. If “one little duck in the wide, wide world” can find acceptance, maybe other societal rejects can too.

Number 3200: Celebrate Thanksgiving Today and Every Day With John Bucchino's Grateful

Last year, in recognition of Thanksgiving, the lovely Nicole started a write-off focusing on gratitude. If you’re looking for a smile over the next few days, I recommend reading the entries and reflecting on the blessings in your own life. This year, I decided to aim for reaching my 3200nd post here on Thanksgiving and commemorating it with Grateful: A Song of Giving Thanks, a picture book that wonderfully expresses an outlook on the world that should not be limited to just late November.

Grateful is a part of The Julie Andrews Collection, which includes books “that nurture the imagination and celebrate a sense of wonder.” Naturally, as someone who counts Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music as favorite movies, the Julie Andrews recommendation intrigued me, but I came to this book primary through another avenue: Art Garfunkel.

While the song was written by John Bucchino and the book is illustrated by Anna-Liisa Hakkarainen, I became familiar with it more than a decade ago when Garfunkel recorded it for his Across America special. This book includes a new recording of the song by him. The words in the book and on the CD are the same, so it’s easy to listen and follow along in the book, letting the gentle piano music with hints of violin complement Hakkarainen’s warm illustrations while the words float along on Garfunkel’s honeyed vocals. Additionally, for the musically inclined, the final four pages of the book feature sheet music for the song.

Aside from a couple of two-page spreads, the book follows the format of painting on the left, words on the right. Most pages have two or four lines, while a few have one or five. The words are general enough that most of them feel fairly universal, mentioning things that usually come up in a Thanksgiving reflection: family, friends, faith, along with earthier needs like shelter. Several different children of various nationalities appear together on one page, emphasizing how many people have these same things to be thankful for.

The lyrics themselves aren’t affixed to any particular time of year, while the illustrations move us along from autumn to winter, spring and finally summer. Still, while the actual holiday of Thanksgiving is never mentioned or depicted, this is an ideal book for the holiday as thanksgiving is its whole purpose. Because of that, I think my favorite painting is the two-page spread of the girl wandering through a fiery autumnal landscape, her blue coat standing out amidst all the blazing orange. This accompanies the first iteration of the chorus, the simple “Grateful, grateful, truly grateful I am. Grateful, grateful, truly blessed and duly grateful.”

My favorite lines, meanwhile, are probably these ones right near the middle: “I feel a hand holding my hand. It’s not a hand you can see. But on the road to the promised land, this hand will shepherd me…” It’s a beautiful image for a powerful belief. This book and song make for a great boost to the spirits any time of year, but on a day when the idea of giving thanks looms so large in the thoughts of so many, I can think of few better books with which to celebrate than Grateful.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

The Muppets Get Spooky in the Comic Collection Muppet Mash

The Muppets seem to be everywhere these days, and one enjoyable form in which they have surfaced is the comic book. Roger Langridge has crafted several books in The Muppet Show Comic Book series, one of which is the Halloween-themed Muppet Mash. Each of the four sections is meant to be an episode of the show, and each focuses on a particular type of monster, making this a silly, spooky collection fitting for this time of year.

In Chickens of the Night, Gonzo begins displaying some very strange behavior after his trip to Transylvania. While weirdness is Gonzo’s trademark, his new choice of attire and his secretive habits begin to make his friends suspect that he has returned a vampire. Are they jumping to conclusions, or does this mark a dramatic change for Gonzo? While the main story is fun, my favorite part of this segment is Casey Was a Bat, a parody of the beloved baseball poem Casey at the Bat.

That’s a Wrap introduces a woman with an Egyptian vaudeville act. Statler and Waldorf both fall for her immediately, as she reminds them so forcefully of a performer they saw in their youth. Could she actually be that same Cleopatra wannabe? This one is a lot of fun because it’s so odd to see the crusty curmudgeons attempting to be romantic, all the while undermining each other’s efforts in that department. I also enjoyed all the Egyptian puns, many of which I only got because of the crash course in Egyptology that accompanied my LOST immersion last year.

Monster Munch finds the members of the Electric Mayhem ecstatic that the legendary blues musician Howlin’ Jack Talbot will be sitting in with them for this episode. Their enthusiasm soon fades, however, when he is unable to get through a song. Similar in some ways to the first story, it revolves around the growing suspicions that this musical hero may, in fact, be a werewolf. Will the band ever manage to complete a performance with their special guest?

Finally, The Curse of Beaker is a Frankenstein-like story in which Bunsen, never particularly concerned about the welfare of his lab assistant, orders him to place his brain inside a gigantic robot he has constructed. Beaker concocts a clever way to subvert this unpleasant plan, but will the results lead to disaster? This story integrally involves a small creature called a poob, which I don’t ever recall encountering before this book. Were these cheerful furry creatures a part of the Muppetverse all along, or did Langridge invent them? This is a fun showcase for Beaker, and it also affords the entertaining opportunity of seeing the ominous-looking Sweetums in a dress.

Each story contains a hefty dose of Muppet mayhem, and as a result, it all feels a bit chaotic. There’s an ongoing story in each, but we also get regular Muppet Show segments like Veterinarian’s Hospital and the cooking corner with the Swedish Chef. It’s a little odd to see the Muppets in this flat format, but they are just as dynamic as ever, and their expressions are wonderful. Some of them look closer to their proper versions than others, but all of them are easily identifiable. Of course, you’re not getting any audio cues, and that is particularly noticeable during the many musical numbers, but the songs included here are a lot of fun anyway.

Only one of these stories takes place on Halloween, but the creepy holiday is obviously the prevailing theme. This gives the story added seasonal appeal in the fall, but it would be just as entertaining at any other time. Muppet Mash uses horror staples but transforms them into something goofy, much like the Riddikulus charm in Harry Potter. If you have trouble laughing in the face of fear, see if these Muppets might be able to help you out.

A Disney Double Feature Offers Mild Halloween Entertainment

When I went looking for a mild Halloween movie to watch in October, my Netflix browsing led me to Halloweentown / Halloweentown II, a Disney double feature. Because of the seasonal demand, it didn’t reach me until well after Halloween, but it made a fun little P.S. on the holiday for me. While the movie is definitely geared toward the tween crowd, it is fairly entertaining.

Both movies share the same primary cast. Kimberly J. Brown stars as Marnie, a girl who, in the first movie, is in the throes of adolescent angst, brought on by the fact that her mother Gwen (Judith Hoag) will not allow her to participate in Halloween activities. It turns out that this is because her widowed mother comes from a long line of witches and doesn’t want Marnie or her siblings, nerdy Dylan (Joey Zimmerman) and innocent Sophie (Emily Roeske), to know about their family heritage.

Debbie Reynolds is the strongest member of the cast as Gwen’s eccentric mother Aggie, who is distressed that her grandchildren may miss their opportunity to immerse themselves in the world that is their birthright. She comes across as zany but classy and is the only actor who doesn’t seem really over-the-top. Well, in the first movie, Roeske is so little that she comes across naturally, but by the second movie her performance is as exaggerated as Brown’s, who seems to spend most of her time on screen smirking or grimacing.

In the first movie, Marnie and her siblings stow away on the magical flying bus that serves as the transport between their world and the enchanted realm their grandmother inhabits. Once there, they must undo a curse that is immobilizing Halloweentown’s residents, most of whom look like exaggerated versions of Halloween costumes. The town is filled with goblins and pumpkin-head and skeletons, but none of them look truly threatening, and the town itself has a very appealing autumnal feel to it.

The second movie takes place a year later and treads similar territory, with the son of the first antagonist returning to avenge his thwarted father. Once again, there is a tug-of-war between Gwen and her mother concerning the upbringing of the children. The sequel came out three years later, and Sophie and Dylan seem to have aged much more than a year, but Brown is old enough that the difference doesn’t seem too dramatic.

Luke (Phillip Van Dyke), a potential love interest for Marnie, returns, and while I want to like the kid, Van Dyke’s performance is so flat I half-forget he’s there. Then again, blandness is a curse affecting Halloweentown in the sequel. The town is turning gray, and its residents are losing their monstrous qualities and their zest for life. Still, Luke seems bland even when he isn’t supposed to be.

However, I love Blu Mankuma in the role of Gort, an ornery pack rat who delights in collecting as much rubbish as he possibly can and keeping it in as untidy a manner as possible. In his normal state, he is snarly and anti-social, while under the curse he is placid and glassy-eyed, with a vague smile on his face and a pleasure in sock-matching that knows no bounds. I actually find this boring version of him even funnier, but in both cases, he entertained me more than any other character in the movie.

These are short movies, and they are so closely related to each other that it makes sense for them to be packaged together. As with most of the TV movies Disney has produced in the past decade or so, I think core audience is fairly limited; most folks over the age of 14 or so will probably find them a bit too goofy to really get into. Still, Halloweentown is very visually creative, and the emphasis on family togetherness is certainly worthwhile, so those looking for a family-friendly flick for late October could do worse than this double feature.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Bask in the Geeky Glow of the 2010 Hallmark Light Cycle

Up until last year, I had only a passing familiarity with TRON, but as the release date of the sequel neared, I was persuaded that the time had come for me to fill in that gap in my geek cred. While my feelings about the movie itself are somewhat mixed, I've developed a deep affection for the franchise, particularly for the light cycle, the vehicle that served as my entry point into that world. That's why I ended up buying the 2010 Hallmark light cycle ornament when I spotted it on sale after Christmas.

Crafted by Hallmark artist Orville Wilson, this is a sturdy black ornament that has a very sleek look to it. It's actually inspired by TRON Legacy rather than the original TRON, so the character astride it is Sam Flynn, son of Kevin Flynn, the main character from the first movie. Not that you can really tell what he looks like in that black bodysuit. His face is somewhat visible behind the plastic visor, but basically, he is one with the light cycle here, and together they are zooming across the grid.

While the outer part of the light cycle is smooth black plastic, parts of the tires are visible, and the rough tread makes it fairly easy to stand the cycle up on a shelf. I'm undecided whether I'm going to hang mine on the tree this year or just leave it in its current perch on the bookshelf. While it wobbles a bit when I pick it up and set it down again, I don't have much trouble getting it to stand straight.

One problem I did have was upon lifting the ornament out of the box. I was taking a closer look at it, and one of the pedals on which Sam's foot rested broke off. Later, my brother was looking at it, and the other one broke off. I don't know if we just got a flimsy ornament or what, but I'd advise you to watch out for those pedals and be extra careful not to bump them.

While this is a cool ornament on its own, with its iconic look and the white accents on a sheer black surface, what makes it really neat is the fact that it lights up once you put the button batteries in it. You press the black button surrounded by a white circle on the top of the ornament, just ahead of the hook, and it glows a pale blue. While there is nothing Christmassy about this ornament, the blue is a wintery shade that feels festive.

Additionally, this ornament is slightly smaller than the front portion of a typical pair of glasses. While the holes in the wheels are certainly on the small side for lenses, I find it fun to hold the ornament about an inch away from my face and peer through them, especially while it's lit up. That's probably a very dorky thing to do, but I get a kick out of it.

In January, I started watching Chuck, which has further cemented TRON in my mind as an icon of geek pride since the title character's original movie poster is prominently displayed in almost every episode. As a self-proclaimed geek, then, I am glad to let this ornament light up my living room.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Mr. Putter Returns to School in Mr. Putter and Tabby Ring the Bell

I grew up with many great easy reader series, but one of my very favorites is one I didn’t discover until I was an adult. That’s the Mr. Putter and Tabby series by Cynthia Rylant and Arthur Howard. This September saw the release of its 20th installment, and no first-grader could be more delighted than I was to see that it was time for a new tale featuring the lovable bachelor and his creaky cat, along with his sweet-natured neighbor and her affable bulldog.

Like me, Mr. Putter is very in tune with his inner child, and in Mr. Putter and Tabby Ring the Bell, the arrival of autumn weather and the ringing of a nearby school bell make him nostalgic for the classroom. Usually, it’s the more adventurous Mrs. Teaberry who comes up with an idea and gets mild-mannered Mr. Putter to go along with it, but this time out, he convinces her to go back to school for the day with him.

The cover illustration is a bit misleading, as it shows Mr. Putter sitting in a child’s desk, raising his hand. In the story, he does not actually settle in like a student for the day. Instead, he and his good friend bring Tabby and Zeke in for show and tell. But the kids want to see tricks. Can they coax some unusual antics out of a cat who is always napping and an overeating dog?

As with the previous installments of this adorable series, the four main characters spring to life despite the minimalist writing style. Rylant selects each word carefully, using it to maximum effect. For instance, her choice of “crispy” to describe fall carries with it all sorts of connotations, from dry leaves that crackle underfoot to tasty desserts made with crumbly oatmeal topping. A little later on, Rylant describes Zeke as “showy,” which provides a natural segue into Mr. Putter’s show and tell idea.

Howard’s illustrations are wonderful, expressive and loaded with little details. For instance, I love that when the visitors arrive in the classroom, the sheets of paper on the children’s desks read “dog” and “cat,” showing that their teacher has oriented a lesson around these special guests. The outdoor pictures of Mr. Putter are charming, with leaves blowing all around him and his scarf whipping in the wind. This book is also one of several in the series to include a picture that flashes back to his childhood. Here, we witness his love of geography as he tenderly gazes at a globe, one of the objects he most readily associates with school.

This book includes six sections, the shortest of which is just four pages long. The longest section is also the only one that deals directly with the classroom visit. The previous four chapters provide build-up, while the final one provides a nice denouement. It’s not unusual for books in this series to focus more on preparation for a particular event than on the event itself, and since the heightened anticipation makes what happens in the classroom even funnier, I don’t see it as a pacing problem. These stories tend to putter along just like their main character, and that just adds to the gentle fun.

By mid-September, many students are already grumbling about being back in school, but through the enthusiastic eyes of one of my favorite kidlit characters, they might just find a renewed zest for their education – or at least for show and tell!

Children Bond Amidst Bleak Industrialism in Castle in the Sky

I’ve been working my way through the films of acclaimed Japanese writer-director Hayao Miyazaki, and after the isolated, bucolic beauty of My Neighbor Totoro, I was startled by the industrialism and violence of Castle in the Sky, originally from 1986 but recently released by Disney in America with dubbing by English-speaking actors. This movie is considerably darker and longer than Totoro and involves an epic quest to discover a legendary floating city along the lines of Atlantis but concealed in the clouds.

Our heroes are Sheeta (Anna Paquin), a mountain girl whose mysterious amulet makes her the target of kidnapping by two different groups of unsavory characters, and Pazu (James Van Der Beek), the working-class boy who finds her floating above the quarry where he lives after she escapes her would-be captors. It doesn’t take the children long to realize that the necklace is the reason she is endangered, and they soon make the connection between it and the lost city that Pazu’s father, an explorer, once claimed to find. Both seek the city for answers about their heritage, but they will have to contend with slimy government official Muska (Mark Hamill) and his minions, who are after the knowledge and power the island houses, as well as a ramshackle band of pirates led by cantankerous matriarch Dola (Cloris Leachman), who has her eye on its fabled treasure.

This is a bleak movie. It has a futuristic feel to it, as so much of it takes place in the sky aboard “airships.” Given Miyazaki’s love of nature, I expected to see more of it, but we are offered only fleeting glimpses. Granted, what he does show us, particularly in the pristine garden that greets the children after they finally reach the island of Laputa, is stunning. Mostly, however, it’s cold fortresses, crumbling mines and lots and lots of propellers. Unlike Totoro, the world of this movie was not one I wanted to visit, particularly since explosions seem to rock the landscape about every ten minutes.

Hamill is flat-out creepy as he voices the slick Muska. For the most part, his manners are genteel, but underneath that cajoling exterior is roiling malice. It doesn’t take too long to realize that of the two villainous factions pursuing Sheeta, his is the more malevolent. Leachman is hilariously ornery in her role as the unkempt pirate queen who reminds me of hillbilly Ma Gogan in Pete’s Dragon. The pirate family is ultimately a twinge more warm-hearted than that dastardly crew, and Dola, her husband, who usually wears only an undershirt above the waist and whose build and enormous mustache make him look like the Lorax, and their many borderline dopey sons are consistent sources of much-needed comic relief.

The heart of the movie, however, is the deep friendship that develops between the elegant, ethereal Sheeta and the earthy, rough-and-tumble Pazu. They bond quickly, particularly during their time with a slightly daffy elderly miner Pazu calls Uncle Pomme (Richard Dysart). It is at this point that they realize just how strong Sheeta’s connection to Laputa is and what a potentially dangerous object she carries. Shades of Lord of the Rings entered my mind as Uncle Pomme uttered dark warnings about the amulet’s powers falling into the wrong hands. While Sheeta feels guilty for dragging Pazu into a dangerous situation, he seems to thrive on the adrenaline rush, and the movie includes an amusing number of instances in which he falls, dangles or crash-lands. He has great physical strength and little foresight. It isn’t really until the climax that he learns to think things through a minute before he leaps.

My Neighbor Totoro left me feeling warm and fuzzy, wanting to run out in a rainstorm and twirl around or give someone a great big bear hug. Castle in the Sky has a very different tone to it. While there is happiness in the conclusion, it is elegiac, and the final image strikes loneliness into the soul, as does the state in which the children find the island and the assertions Muska makes about it. The film seems to be largely a fable about the dangers of superior power unchecked by compassion. The central friendship brings it down to a more relatable level, while the antics of the pirates keep us from getting too bogged down in despair. Hope does peer out through the crevices of this movie. However, at times it feels almost as elusive as the titular castle.

A Mean Teacher Poses a Great Challenge in Eloise Goes to School

When I was in elementary school, I was a definite oddball, and I used to wish I could just do my learning at home instead where I didn’t have to worry about getting picked on by other kids. In the 45-minute-long cartoon Eloise Goes to School, the title character is approaching school from a different perspective. This free-spirited child is used to running wild through the Plaza Hotel to her heart’s content, with only her stuffy tutor cramping her style. When he gets fed up with her antics and quits, she decides – with a little goading from the other kids who live in the hotel – that it might be time for her to try a traditional school environment.

I have never read any of the Eloise books, but I’ve really enjoyed the movies and specials inspired by them. The cartoons imitate the style of Hilary Knight’s illustrations and prickle with a fun, slightly messy energy reflective of the main character. Mary Mouser voices Eloise, a gregarious six-year-old who is always bouncing off the walls. Lynn Redgrave is her good-natured but weary British nanny, as frumpy and easy-going as Mary Poppins is prim and no-nonsense. Under Nanny’s permissive gaze, Eloise is used to getting her own way and is undeterred even by the stern warnings issued by hotel manager Mr. Salamone (Tim Curry). How will such a squirrely girl thrive in a structured school environment?

This is a fun story that demonstrates just how unusual Eloise’s upbringing has been. The contrast between her typical life and the stifling private school environment in which she finds herself is striking. While Eloise comes to appreciate just how good she had it, it’s sweet to see various household staff and residents, from the jovial doorman to the mopey elevator operator, confess to finding the hotel a bit bland without her. While we see less of the hotel in this special than is typical for this series, it remains very much a part of the story.

The regular voice cast is terrific as always, but Doris Roberts is the standout here as the intimidating teacher at the school Eloise attends. Anyone who has seen Everybody Loves Raymond can attest to Roberts’ ability to make people cower. Here, she doesn’t bother to mask her antagonism with sugary words. This teacher is flat-out harsh, and while Eloise’s inability to sit still makes her an easy target for her wrath, other students fall victim to her meanness as well. Is there anything Eloise can do to make the classroom a more pleasant environment, or will she be forced to admit that traditional school is just not for her?

Raising the stakes in this little experiment is the fact that Eloise has reluctantly accepted a wager from a mean-spirited boy who also lives at the hotel. If she gets kicked out, she will have to surrender her pet turtle to him. She certainly doesn’t want that to happen, but how can she stand by and watch her teacher bully her new friends? The story raises interesting questions about when it is appropriate for a child to question the methods of an authority figure and what the best way is to do that.

While some of Eloise’s behavior in this special is not exactly exemplary, Eloise Goes to School is an engaging tale showing how doing things in a drastically different way can provide a valuable learning experience for all involved.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

A Gifted Artist-Storyteller Shares His Life in Bill Peet: An Autobiography

Of the many Disney shorts and featurettes released over the years, few hold a stronger claim on my affections than Lambert the Sheepish Lion, the thoroughly endearing tale of a lion who, thanks to a scatterbrained stork, is adopted by a sheep and grows up bashful and bullied by other lambs until a threat to his flock releases his pent-up roar. That tale was the brainchild of artist-storyteller Bill Peet, who put his distinctive stamp on several Disney projects and independently created numerous children’s books. While I have little familiarity with Peet’s solo output, I was excited to happen upon Bill Peet: An Autobiography, in which he chronicles his life up through his break with Disney during preparations for The Jungle Book.

This book is unlike any autobiography I have read before. It’s large at about 8 by 10 inches, and it’s 190 pages long. Nonetheless, it is not broken up into chapters. Peet just writes straight through from beginning to end. This means that it’s somewhat lacking in natural stopping points, though the text on most pages concludes at the end of a paragraph. Moreover, this is a much quicker read that one would initially guess. You could easily finish it in one sitting on a quiet afternoon. On most pages, the illustration takes up more room than the words do even though the font is quite large. Many pages feature only a paragraph or two, and every single page includes at least one picture.

Peet has a down-to-earth narrative style, and it is easy to identify with him at every step along his journey. Even at his most successful, we see him as a man who must struggle and sacrifice in order to achieve his dreams. While this is by no means a salacious tell-all, he does relate instances of some pretty poor treatment that he received at the hands of higher-ups, including Walt Disney himself.

The tale of the fateful meeting with an irate Walt that led to his decision to leave the studio is made that much sadder by the fact that it happened on Peet’s birthday and that Walt died just a year later, still estranged from him. While Peet consistently portrays Walt Disney as more of a boss than a friend, he spends as much time praising his genius as recalling his towering tempers. It’s obvious his respect and appreciation for Walt run deep, and Peet’s portraits of him reflect this mixed impression.

Other familiar faces fill the latter part of the book as well. Peet sprinkles in sketches of some of the most iconic characters he helped to design. We see scenes from Fantasia, Dumbo, Song of the South, Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland, Peter Pan, Sleeping Beauty, 101 Dalmatians, The Sword in the Stone and The Jungle Book, along with several shorter projects, including Lambert.

While only the cover is in color, all of the drawings are exquisite. Some are hysterical; others are wistful. Animals are favorite subjects from the beginning of the book, which chronicles Peet’s happy early years, particularly one blissful summer at his grandpa’s farm. Trains also hold great fascination for him, and several two-page panoramas of locomotives make a strong impression. He also includes recreations of paintings that he did during art school – where he met his wife, to whom the book is dedicated – and beyond. It’s no wonder that this was named as a Caldecott Honor Book; each page is absolutely gorgeous.

While you could get a lot out of this book without actually reading any of it, the narration really does live up to the drawings. Peet’s skill as a storyteller is apparent as he shares some of the major milestones and memorable incidents of his life, continually casting himself as a plucky underdog. Notable anecdotes include recollections of his cross-country trek to Los Angeles with a friend of a friend, his first big break at Disney drawing monsters for a sequence of Pinocchio that wound up being scrapped and his storyboard proposal for a war film that, to his relief, Walt found too disturbing to run with.

Ultimately, Bill Peet: An Autobiography is a story about stories and of life and art imitating each other. I would recommend this to anyone interested in Disney history, children’s literature or art – and to anybody who has a dream that seems out of reach. Step into the world of Peet’s imagination and just look at what this dreamer accomplished.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Flying Whales and Lovelorn Ducks Make Fantasia 2000 Even Better Than the Original

Back in May, my brother graduated from college. When I peeked out the door that morning to see how the weather was shaping up, storm clouds loomed ominously, making Pomp and Circumstance from Fantasia 2000 feel doubly appropriate for the day. Not only is the song instantly associated with graduations, but in Disney’s 38th animated feature, it serves as the backdrop to a quirky riff on the story of Noah’s Ark, and we seemed to be in for a similar soaker. I’m not sure what happened to those rainclouds; by the time we got to the ceremony, the weather was gorgeous. Still, I’ve had that Disney segment rolling around in my head ever since, so I was happy to rewatch Fantasia 2000 recently.

When Walt Disney first conceived of Fantasia, which became the company’s third animated feature film, he intended to revive it periodically, retaining some segments and inserting new ones. That concept died after the rather unconventional movie using animation as a means of exploring classical music failed to prove as popular as he’d hoped, but six decades later, a sequel finally hit theaters. All new material except for the iconic Sorcerer’s Apprentice, the movie also features introductions by several celebrities and glimpses of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, which performed the music. Some of the presenters, particularly Steve Martin and magical act Penn and Teller, are comical, while others, like Quincy Jones and Angela Lansbury, give more serious introductions. Bette Midler’s is perhaps the most educational of the intros, while James Earl Jones’ thwarted dignity in his amuses me, as does Mickey Mouse’s panicked conversation with conductor James Levine.

As with the original, some segments stand out more than others, but each has a distinct style and tells a compelling story without the need for dialogue. The Sorcerer’s Apprentice remains just as engaging all these years later as Mickey, apprenticed to glowering wizard Yen Sid, seizes his chance to try on his boss’s magical hat and calamity, mostly involving multiplying, marching brooms carrying buckets of water, ensues. Exciting and entertaining with a built-in lesson on the dangers of meddling in complex matters without permission or assistance. Meanwhile, Pomp and Circumstance becomes a showcase for Donald and Daisy Duck as these two lovebirds sail on Noah’s Ark, each unaware that the other has survived the flood until they reunite at last once the boat strikes land. The familiarity of the song, the sweetness of their relationship and the humor involved with having so many different types of animals contained in one place makes this a standout segment, starting with the glorious animation of the Lion King-like summons that draws the creatures to the ark.

Carnival of the Animals does not have the diversity of animals one might expect from the name, but it is a delightful romp involving a serious, well-coordinated flock of flamingoes troubled by a prankster with a yoyo. One of the shortest and funniest segments, it shows the havoc a yoyo would wreak amidst a flock of these otherwise elegant birds. Instead of birds, butterflies and bats are the subject of the abstract short set to Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5. Colorful and stylized, it does not feature any distinct characters but weaves a joyful tale nonetheless. This first segment makes a nice match for the final segment, Stravinsky’s Firebird Suite, as they both involve the tug of war between light and dark, creation and destruction. In Firebird, a vile volcano sends magma rampaging through a tranquil wilderness as an elk and a gentle wood sprite watch in horror. This segment reminded me quite a bit of the forest fire portion of Bambi, and it is probably the darkest part of the movie, though the scenes of restoration are quite lovely.

Another harrowing tale is Hans Christian Andersen’s The Steadfast Tin Soldier, set to Shostakovich’s Piano Concerto No . 2 in F Major-I. I was familiar with this story as a child but always found it terribly depressing; Disney gives it a much more conventional happy ending. One of the most strictly narrative of the segments, it features a plucky toy soldier, a beautiful toy doll and a hideous jack-in-the-box that would give just about any kid nightmares. Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue has a bit of a down tone to it, filled as it is with hard-luck cases wandering the streets in economic despair; after all, this is the Depression. The characters have a very interesting look to them, all one flat color or another, a reflection of the cartoons of Al Hirschfeld, a contemporary of Gershwin. Despite the air of disappointment and agitation hanging over New York City throughout much of the segment, there is also life and excitement, which we largely see from the perspective of one zesty character who is entirely too confident in his ability not to fall off of scaffolding. Ultimately a very fun piece.

My hands-down favorite, however, is The Pines of Rome, composed by Ottorino Respighi. In this mystical short, a family of humpback whales traverses the arctic by air rather than sea – though they never venture far from the water until the gloriously animated finale. The little whale who hasn’t quite mastered the newly acquired gift of flight prompts some laughter with his clumsy movements, but generally this segment feels solemn, with a beauty that almost brings tears to the eyes, particularly when the family joins with the larger pod. The short begins in disaster, yet there is the sense that these majestic creatures are moving toward something greater. Truly epic.

I’m not exactly an aficionado when it comes to symphonic music. I think I’d only heard about half of these songs in other settings, and as much as I enjoy them in this context, I haven’t sought the others out elsewhere. Still, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if some of those for whom Fantasia 2000 serves as an introduction to this type of music ended up immersing themselves in classical music. A triumph of art and silent storytelling, this is also a movie that can serve as a powerful introduction to some of the most notable composers of the last few centuries. Here’s hoping it won’t take another 60 years to see the next one.

Friday, November 18, 2011

Santa Conducts an Experiment in Generosity in The Small Town Children's Christmas

One of my favorite Christmas specials is The Year Without a Santa Claus, the Rankin-Bass classic that introduced the Snow and Heat Misers, whose dueling song would become a Christmas station staple. In that movie, Santa decides to call off Christmas because he is feeling unappreciated. In The Small Town Children’s Christmas, written by Patrick K. Hallinan, his reasons for deciding against his annual flight are a bit less self-involved. His chief concern is that children have become too greedy and fail to understand the joy of giving.

Hallinan spins his story in verse, mostly four or eight lines at a time. The format is inconsistent, with some parts following an ABCB format and others embracing AABB; while I find that a bit distracting, the rhyme is generally done well, and the rhythm is usually spot-on. He does not capitalize the first letter in a line unless that letter would be capitalized in the normal course of a sentence. This gives the book a slightly less clean look than many of this type, but it also helps to increase the focus on the individual sentences instead of the verses. That’s probably a good thing, though occasionally, portions of the story seem to have been written mainly for the sake of rhyme. I imagine the book would have been a bit less long-winded if the writing style had been prose.

Questions of style set aside, it’s a pretty good story. Santa is not simply giving up on the children of Earth. He’s hoping that his failure to show up will stir them into some sort of positive action, and that does come about through the efforts of one youngster, a lad named Paul who lives in poverty and has only one prized possession. He seems more in touch with the joy of the season than anyone, and while all of the children are on their best behavior, with him, it isn’t simply because he wants something out of it. His response to the lack of presents galvanizes the others; this mild-mannered kid seems like a natural-born leader. The conclusion reminds me of How the Grinch Stole Christmas, one of my all-time favorite Christmas tales.

The illustrations are cartoonish, and all of the characters have faces with a pinkish tone to them. Most of the kids have a rather general look to them, but Paul is more distinct with his scraggly brown hair and the red ball cap he always wears. Santa is the only adult human in the book, so we don’t know what sort of effect all this is having on the grown-ups in Small Town or elsewhere. All we see is the reaction of the children, but the verse suggests that their generous spirits have an impact upon people of all ages.

I can’t put my finger on just why, but something about this book feels rather generic to me. Nonetheless, The Small Town Children’s Christmas is a story that applauds selfless giving, and that is a virtue worth celebrating. If you fear your kids may be in danger of excessive greed as Christmas approaches, perhaps this book might serve as a gentle reminder that it is better to give than to receive.

Magical Mickey Is the Highlight of 1940's Fantasia

When I think about the 1940 film Fantasia, the first image that pops into my mind is Mickey - who, incidentally, celebrates his 83rd birthday today - as the impish Sorcerer’s Apprentice who, in a combination of curiosity and laziness, sets a platoon of bucket-carrying brooms loose and nearly floods his master’s headquarters. That Mickey in his pointy blue wizard’s hat continues to be an iconic image, and the segment is the only one from the original film to be included in Fantasia 2000. Watching the first Fantasia again recently confirmed both that I prefer the latter film and that this magical tale is my favorite of the eight sections.

Fantasia offers an ambitious mix of classical music and artful animation. Some of the pieces run quite long despite being edited from their original form. While some, like Sorcerer’s Apprentice, have a strong narrative, others, like the light show that is Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, are much more abstract. The comments of composer Deems Taylor provide useful context for each of the pieces; his live-action introductions are generally pretty dry, but they give some valuable insights into the music, mostly played by the Philadelphia Orchestra and conducted by Leopold Stokowski.

My brother, who is an artist, suggests that Fantasia was largely a playground for animators and that some of the pieces really were more fun for them than they would be for most viewers. I confess that there are some segments I don’t find much fun at all. The above-mentioned Toccata and Fugue in D Minor mostly strikes me as a bit boring, but I don’t mind watching it. However, I flat-out dislike The Rite of Spring, which is one of the darkest Disney projects I have ever seen. Aside from a couple of cute baby dinosaurs, there’s really nothing but rampant destruction here with behemoths eating each other against a lava-soaked landscape and eventually falling down dead. If I’d watched this as a five-year-old, I’m pretty sure I would’ve been traumatized. I have a similar reaction to Night on Bald Mountain, which shows a night of grim revelry among a satanic figure and his minions, though at least that one is softened somewhat by the fact that it is immediately followed by the heavenly Ave Maria.

On the other hand, I love the silly spectacle of Dance of the Hours, a tune that always seems to be used for comical purposes. Here, it’s several lumbering animals performing a ballet. Among them are hippos and ostriches, two of my favorite creatures. This segment is pure whimsy. I also appreciate the beauty of the salute to the seasons found in the Nutcracker Suite, which anthropomorphizes natural images to show the world coming alive at different points in the year. I especially enjoy the frosty intricacy of the winter scene and the humor of the dancing mushrooms. Finally, while this segment seems a bit overlong and while the casually cruel Greek gods are a turn-off, I mostly enjoy The Pastoral Symphony, particularly the cavorting Cupids and the adorable baby Pegasuses and their stately parents. There’s a lot of nudity in this segment, but it never really seems titillating and certainly is in keeping with classic works of art depicting mythical creatures.

Ultimately, I think that Fantasia is more abstract than its 2000 counterpart, and there also seems to be little effort to gear its contents toward children. Aside from the hapless apprentice, the dancing animals and the baby flying horses, this really seems more suited for adults. While I admire the artistry and find sections of it delightful, I definitely prefer the later version. However, both aptly demonstrate the magic of Mickey.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Mike Huckabee Encourages Patience in Can't Wait Till Christmas

During his Presidential 2008 campaign, former Arkansas governor Mike Huckabee made a generally positive impression on me, so it piqued my curiosity when two Christmas books bearing his name hit the shelves of the bookstore where I worked. While I have yet to read his collection of stories for adults, I recently took his picture book, Can’t Wait Till Christmas, out of the library.

Huckabee writes with a folksy, down-home charm as he relates an incident from his own childhood. I got a chuckle out of the dedication, in which he relates two instances of his sister Pat engaging in activities that were dangerous to his health and well-being. Ah, the joy of older sisters! Clearly, however, there is great affection and humor between the two of them, and this is the pair of siblings at the heart of the story.

The tale Huckabee tells is not a new one. Countless stories have mentioned how hard it is for children to wait for Christmas, and many have featured children who decide to peek at their presents, only to regret it later. Still, this is an engaging story that seems more so because it is true. While the story is written in the third person, we’re getting a first-hand account from a guy who recalls what it was like to be fiendishly excited for Christmas, to want a football as badly as Ralphie wanted a BB gun in A Christmas Story, to be so fixated that avoiding the temptation of an early peek seemed impossible. Reading of his later remorse carries more of an impact.

Huckabee paints a picture of a happy family: Mom, Dad, a brother and sister, a cat and a dog. The parents seem pretty easy-going, good-naturedly putting up with all of Mike’s strong hints about what he wants for Christmas. Pat is a bit less patient, but she’s not quite a Lucy Van Pelt-style crabapple, and as much as she wants to play by the rules, she can’t help getting caught up in Mike’s excitement. It’s fun to see these siblings interact with each other and reminds me a bit of the dynamic between me and the brother closest to my age. I’m sure a lot of siblings can relate to this relationship.

Jed Henry’s illustrations are fairly realistic but with a cartoonish edge. The humans look slightly more realistic than the pets, which appear on nearly every page, but the pictures are consistently artistically appealing. I especially like the spectacle of the tree with all the presents, each wrapped with a different style of paper, underneath. Their tree is much more sedate than any we’ve ever erected in my house, but the plain gold and silver balls alongside the colored lights have a very elegant effect. I can’t help think the parents were almost asking for this to happen by putting those presents out two whole weeks early; perhaps they saw it as a teaching moment. In any case, the lesson comes across well.

Early in the book, Mike’s mom insists that being patient makes the experience of opening a gift sweeter. By the end of the book, Mike understands what she means, and perhaps other kids who Can’t Wait Till Christmas will get it as well and be less inclined to peep at those presents ahead of time.

Hercules Struggles With Self-Control in Lightning Strikes

When I hear the phrase "Lightning Strikes," my first thought is generally of Lou Christie's rather demented pop hit about the tug-of-war between propriety and hormones. While young Hercules doesn't have girls on the brain in the Disney's Storytime Treasures Library book Lightning Strikes, he, too, must deal with internal conflict. Ultimately, this, too, is a story of self-control.

Lightning Strikes is the 11th book in the series, and like several of its other installments, it was written by Ronald Kidd, while Peter Emslie and Eric Binder provided illustrations. This story is a bit more text-heavy than others in this series, but it is still largely driven by the illustrations, which faithfully recapture the look of the film. Since it takes place during Hercules' adolescence, several characters are not in the picture. The main ones here are Hercules himself, his faithful flying steed Pegasus, his ornery trainer Phil and his father Zeus.

Zeus is the mightiest of the gods in the Greek pantheon, and Hercules wants to take his place alongside him, but first he must learn how to be a true hero. The trouble is that he is always in such a rush to demonstrate his super-strength that he doesn't think through what he should be doing. As the mishaps pile up, particularly once he gets his hands on one of Zeus's lightning bolts, the chances that he can curb his impulses to be genuinely heroic seem pretty slim.

Of the books in this series that I have read, Lightning Strikes is definitely the funniest. It's a comedy of errors as Hercules struts his stuff without putting any thought into his actions, exasperating Phil, who peppers him with snarky remarks. Hercules demonstrates the typical abandon of a teen, but his heart is in the right place, and when a crisis unfolds, it's time to put that training to good use. The conclusion of this story is both funny and clever, and it drives home the point that it is important to think before acting.

The pictures here are a lot of fun, as are Phil's comments. The combination of the two clearly shows what a mess Hercules is capable of causing when he isn't careful. Phil really does steal the spotlight here, but Hercules is a great character as well, and Pegasus, one of my favorite Disney animal sidekicks, has a regal place of prominence on almost every page. I also like the poem at the end of the book, the end of which advises, "Always think, and think some more before you use your might!"

Many of the books in this series focus on the value of friendship. While Hercules' relationship with Phil is important here, what's more significant is his understanding of himself - of what he can do and what he should do. Children who are just figuring that out for themselves should find value in the entertaining Lightning Strikes.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

It's a Small World in Joan Walsh Anglund's Peace Is a Circle of Love

I've been enjoying the books of Joan Walsh Anglund over the past couple months, and of all the volumes I've read thus far, I think my favorite is Peace Is a Circle of Love, published in 1993. Like several of her poetry books, it is a tiny gift book about 50 percent taller than it is wide. Unlike those books, it is in full color, with vibrant illustrations of children on each page that create a tapestry of human cooperation reminiscent of the iconic Disney ride it's a small world.

The book is very much on the short side. Aside from the first page, which is on the right-hand side and includes text and illustration on the same page, the pictures are on the right and the words are on the left. There are 25 pages in all, just 13 pictures, plus those on the title and cover pages. While Anglund does not mention any specific nationalities, the children are dressed in culturally distinct garb.

In the first picture, a little girl in buckskin releases a bird, which flies off in jubilation. The final page bookends this moment as she and three others watch a dove traverse the sky as the sun sets behind it. Other pages show several children together or sometimes just a pair, always engaged in peaceable activities. A Scandinavian girl and a child from Thailand share a flower; a procession of seven children from a variety of backgrounds meanders down the road, holding candles. Other heartening symbols include a rainbow, a tree and a hug.

Anglund varies the skin tone to accentuate the ethnic differences, but even the darkest-skinned children retain her easily recognizable rosy cheeks. Small, round black eyes and no noses are other features typical of Anglund's style that present themselves here. She makes full use of color, giving each child a distinctive outfit, from the little German boy in green lederhosen and a feathered cap to the Hasidic Jew all in black. The rose-covered kimono of the Japanese girl is lovely, as is the flag-print dress that the American girl proudly sports.

All but two of the sentences in the book begin with the words "Peace is." Another starts "Peace means," and the final sentence breaks from the pattern to allude to the classic anthem Let There Be Peace on Earth. The writing style is minimalist, but it works for this simple book about seeking harmony. Of the 15 statements describing the nature of peace, I think my favorite is, "Peace is letting go of old angers and building new dreams together," which accompanies a drawing of two children planting a garden together.

The image of the two children with a rainbow behind them appears twice in the book; it's the same two kids, and the accompanying text is virtually identical. I presume that the reason for this is to give the book more of a circular feel, but if that is the case, the first appearance of the rainbow should have been the second illustration in the book rather than the third. In either case, I think it would have been more interesting to include an entirely different image toward the end. Still, it works as it is.

While the world is a much more complicated and contentious place than what is reflected in this book, Anglund is presenting an ideal, and in referring to "the children of the world" as "our teachers of peace," she emphasizes the value in letting these charitable attitudes take root in the very young and allowing them to demonstrate how harmonious our associations with each other can be if we seek common ground and celebrate differences rather than fearing them.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Iconic Disney Characters Meet Classic Fantasy in Wizards of Mickey: Mouse Magic

One of the most iconic incarnations of Mickey Mouse is as the mischievous sorcerer's apprentice in the most famous segment of the film Fantasia (and the only segment repeated in Fantasia 2000). I imagine that this role served as inspiration for the Wizards of Mickey comic book series, which was compiled into graphic novel form and published by Boom! Studios. The first part of this originally Italian saga, Mouse Magic, includes four comic books written by Stefano Ambrosio, with artwork by Lorenzo Pastrovicchio, Marco Gervasio, Marco Palazzi and Alessandro Perina.

The story begins with Mickey, who once again is a sorcerer's apprentice, but this time, he works for a wizard named Nereus who seems less intimidating and has more faith in him. Nereus reminds me of Gandalf here, cantankerous but profoundly good and concerned about the well-being of the common folk. Like Gandalf, he entrusts Mickey with a magical object, asking him not to use it but to prevent others from using it. Unfortunately, brawny bullies are about, which makes Mickey's task much more trying and ultimately leads to his involvement with a much larger crisis than the drought facing his home village.

While Mickey is the main character here, classic villain Pete soon surfaces as a primary antagonist, and before too long, Mickey meets and befriends Goofy, an aspiring herbalist who distrusts magic, and Donald, whose consistently nonfunctional spells keep getting him into trouble. While Pluto does not make an appearance in Mouse Magic, that void is filled by Fafnir, a "puppy dragon" who adopted Donald and whose clumsy but lovable ways hinder the trio at times and help at others. Late in the book, we also encounter spunky sorceress Daisy, who has a prior history with Donald and is friends with pampered princess Minnie and clairvoyant Clarabelle. It seems plain that this trio of gals will soon team up with the fellas to present a united front against the forces of evil.

The mix of established and new characters works well, with several fresh faces emerging at the wizards' tournament in which Mickey and his friends end up competing. Of these, my favorites are the enormous dragons, who scoff at their "scaleless" competitors and insist that their ancient magic is far superior to any requiring a wand or a "diamagic," one of the shards of the crystal where all the magic in the land was once concentrated. The purpose of the tournament is to win the diamagics from each other so that the ultimate victor will be able to unite the crystals and become Sorcerer Supreme. Naturally, with this degree of power at stake, some competitors will be resorting to underhanded methods in an effort to emerge triumphant.

The tournament itself becomes central to the story fairly quickly, but each of the story's four parts involves time away from the tournament as well, both with Mickey and with Nereus, who is being held prisoner by an old enemy. While this is an epic adventure, there is room for some humor, particularly where Donald and Fafnir are concerned. Some of the spells that are used have some amusing effects as well. The quality of the artwork is excellent; while I find the purely white faces of Mickey and Goofy, not to mention Minnie and Clarabelle, a little strange amidst all the vibrant color surrounding them, the characters otherwise look fully themselves, and the panels are filled with intricate detail. While the story still seems a bit complex for those in early elementary school, it doesn't feel nearly as dark as Mickey Mouse and the World to Come.

Unlike other Disney graphic novels I have read, this one includes no sneak previews at the end, so it's considerably shorter than most, but I can't say for sure whether the story itself is of significantly different length. It seems about average, though, at roughly a hundred pages. That's plenty of time in which to get to know the characters and become acquainted with their world, with the promise of more installments to follow. The mouse at the heart of the Magic Kingdom could hardly be a Muggle; delve into his enchanted side with this first volume in Wizards of Mickey.

A Young Woman Searches for Herself in Belle: A Retelling of Beauty and the Beast

As someone who has always loved fairy tales, I was excited to discover the Once Upon a Time series of young adult novels focusing on these beloved characters, many of which were introduced to contemporary children through Disney movies. While Disney did not provide my introduction to Beauty and the Beast, it was through that Best Picture-nominated movie that I truly fell in love with the story. Since then, I have encountered several retellings of the story, most recently the Once Upon a Time novel Belle, written by Cameron Dokey.

Earlier this year, I read Beauty, one of two Robin McKinley novels that retell this tale, and many of the elements present in that novel are here as well. In both cases, the title character is the narrator, and she does not consider herself to be beautiful, particularly since she has two older sisters who so clearly fit with traditional notions of beauty. In both books, those sisters are just as kind as they are lovely, particularly once their life circumstances change and they must work harder to sustain themselves. Once again, Belle is especially close to her father, who is a wealthy merchant. When several of his ships vanish at sea – one carrying the love of her sister’s life – he sells all he has to provide for the families of his sailors, then moves his family into a country cottage resting on the edge of an ominous forest steeped in dark legends.

This 200-page-long novel has little in common with the Disney film aside from an arrogant young suitor along the lines of Gaston, but his role in the book is surprisingly small. The beginning sets us up to expect his return later, but that never happens. Instead, his presence merely seems to be a means of improving Belle’s relationship with one of her sisters and causing her to contemplate the possibility the she might possess beauty of an unconventional nature. Interestingly, in this book, Belle’s mother is alive and well, though she does not enjoy the strong rapport with Belle that her father does. However, Belle does have a firm supporter in Alphonse, a lifelong friend of her father’s. The gentle mentor role he slips into makes him possibly my favorite side character in the novel. I also like Corbeau, the spirited horse who bonds with Belle after showing her the way to the Beast’s castle.

Dokey has written several books in the Once Upon a Time series, including Wild Orchid, which is about Mulan. In both stories, a particular tree plays a very significant role in the plot. Here, it’s the heartwood tree, a majestic tree with a beautiful legend surrounding it. When Belle hears of it, she is intrigued, since she has a special gift for woodworking and longs to uncover the secret that lies within its depths. It is this tree, instead of the rose found in most versions of the tale, that causes the Beast to turn on Belle’s father and leads to her decision to go to the castle in his place.

It seems in Belle’s nature to be introspective, but here she is perhaps excessively so. Dokey spends a lot of time in her head as she philosophizes about the true nature of Beauty. She has other concerns as well, but she keeps coming back to this one. What does it really mean to have Beauty, and can she ever hope to possess this quality herself? It’s partly because of all this time in Belle’s head that we are nearly three quarters of the way through the book before she ever meets the Beast. While I like the way the story unfolds, it feels strange to have this central relationship relegated to such a small portion of the novel. Additionally, we don’t get very many details about Belle’s stay in the castle, and aside from Corbeau, the place seems very lonely, with Belle and the Beast interacting only at twilight and no other entities, human or not, making an appearance.

While I would have preferred to see more of the novel directly involving Belle’s stay with the Beast, Belle is well-written overall and a nice take on the classic tale. The heartwood tree is an especially intriguing addition. It’s not my favorite version of the story, but Dokey still shows us how much there is to love about this courageous young woman who doesn’t quite conform to societal expectations.

Visit Harry Potter and Many Other Fantastical Folks at Universal Studios Islands of Adventure

A couple years ago, my aunt and uncle took a trip to Florida, and while they were there, they saw advertisements for the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, which would be opening the following year. My aunt told me that whenever they decided to go to Florida to check out this new park, I was invited to go along. Just before my birthday this year, they announced that we were going this spring, and it was an epic vacation that included Universal and Disney World, as well as Sea World, a drive-through safari, a renaissance fair and an airboat ride through a swamp filled with alligators. But Harry was the one who propelled this particular venture for my aunt and uncle, who, unlike me, are seasoned travelers. We spent two days at Universal Studios, which was where the Wizarding World of Harry Potter was located.

Universal is divided into two parks. Our passes allowed us to visit both parks, but on our first day, we ventured only into Islands of Adventure, which includes several themed sections, of which the Harry Potter one is the newest. We also returned to this part of the park our second time through, after we had made our way through Universal's more low-key park. Islands of Adventure is jam-packed with rides, attractions and costumed characters, and you'll be hard-pressed to see everything you want to in a single day.

As it happened, our first day at Universal was St. Patrick's Day, and the park seemed to be especially packed as a result. We just made our way through in order of what was closest to the entrance, which meant that we started out with the section focusing on classic comic book characters. Marvel Super Hero Island included some pretty intense-looking rides; the only one I went on was the Spider-man ride, which simulated a ride through the city where we helped Spider-Man battle baddies and got sprinkled with water or tinged with heat from fiery explosions. While we were in this part of the park, we saw a parade of Marvel characters and snapped a few pictures. A few of them came up onto the sidewalks and posed for photos with guests.

While the Marvel world was fun, I really loved Toon Lagoon, which was filled with nifty cut-out displays of characters from comic strips ranging from Beetle Bailey to Family Circus. We spent a fair bit of time here just snapping pictures of each other next to or under the various displays. I loved the one with the cranky Shoe editor muttering, "A good editor never sleeps," and I got a kick out of the unaccompanied dialogue bubble just above head level simply stating, "I feel like there is a cloud over my head."

This part of the park included my two favorite rides, aside from the thrilling Hogwarts Castle tour. Dudley Do-Wright, the clueless Mountie, was the theme of the log flume, and we spent close to two hours waiting for Dudley Do-Wright's Ripsaw Falls, after which point we decided that the fast passes would be a good idea. The wait wasn't bad, though, because the line was filled with quirky announcements, Dudley Do-Wright cartoons and artwork. The ride itself is a log flume ride rather like the Magic Kingdom's Splash Mountain, and it tells a story using jumbo figures and dialogue and narration coming out of the speakers nearby. The basic storyline has Dudley clumsily saving the day from the nefarious Snidely Whiplash, with the result that he is celebrated by the town but still rejected by the girl of his dreams. The tale is entertaining, and the ride is tons of fun for a hot day. I rode it three times over the course of two days, and I got completely soaked each time - though the third time, I rode it later in the day than I should have, with the result that I was shivering all through dinner. You're best off getting this one out of the way well before 5:00. Same goes for Popeye and Bluto's Bilge Rat Barges, which is comparable to the white water rapids ride at Hersheypark. If the splash from going down a waterfall doesn't get you, the downpour from waterfalls above you will. Plus, you have the people up on the bridges paying to aim water at you. There's no avoiding getting drenched on this ride, though handily, there is a sealed plastic compartment in the middle in which to store your belongings, and they'll stay pretty dry as long as you put them in there. Like Ripsaw Falls, this includes several jumbo figures from the cartoon scattered throughout the ride and combined with dialogue from the speakers. It's very entertaining and refreshing.

Another ride involving a circular raft is the Jurassic Park River Adventure, the only ride I went on in that section of the park. It starts out nice and mellow, almost like the Jungle Cruise, and the gorgeous score from the movie augments the beauty of those animatronic plant-eating dinosaurs. Then you leave the sunny outdoor area and go inside, where it's dark and dire warnings about malfunctions flash and blare. This part of the ride is creepy, particularly the huge Tyrannosaurus Rex that lunges down upon you just before you go down the ride's final hill. There's a bit of a splash to this one, but it's nothing compared to the ones in Ripsaw Falls and Bilgerat Barges, and you could probably ride this one a little later in the day and not have to worry so much about getting dry. Outside of the ride, there are a number of photo spots, and we just enjoyed wandering through on our way to the wizards. The Lost Continent is around here too, and we didn't spend much time there at all the first day, but the second day we did the walk-through show Poseidon's Fury, which had some really cool special effects, not to mention a very enthusiastic human guide.

Seuss Landing is designed mostly with kids in mind, so none of the rides are that thrilling for adults, but this part of the park is incredibly visually appealing. Everywhere you look is a statue of some Seuss character, and the whole thing is eye-poppingly colorful. I took oodles of pictures in this part of the park, and it's just a joy to walk through. Whatever your favorite Seuss book is, you'll probably find it here in some form or another. The carousel is a real thing of beauty, populated as it is by all sorts of Seussish creatures, and I love the display dedicated to the Lorax and the old Onceler. We rode on the Cat in the Hat ride, which is an entertaining dark ride that takes you through the events of the book, and the trolley ride, which provides a little tour of all the Seussian attractions in the area. Kids should love this park, along with adults who appreciate whimsy.

The Wizarding World of Harry Potter is an amazing sight for any Rowling fan. You get there, and it's like you have entered the wizarding village of Hogsmeade, where Hogwarts students go for occasional field trips. It's so compact that it's hard to really get a feel for how it looks without standing in the middle of it. Shops tower on all sides, some of them actually selling merchandise, others only storefronts there just for show. While the Hogwarts Express does not actually go anywhere, you can get your picture taken with the engine and stroll through the station. This park has three rides, two of which I went on, as the Dragon Challenge looked a little too twisty for me. The Flight of the Hippogriff is short, but it's an exhilarating little roller coaster, and I love the line for this ride because it includes Hagrid's hut, and you get to hear his voice booming out from the speaker. I was hoping that there would be a photo op spot with Hagrid or a character walking around, but this little area is very cool. I just wish that guests were able to actually go into the cabin.

The park has no specific characters walking around, but it is filled with witches and wizards serving as prefects. The main attraction of the park is Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey, a mega-cool virtual tour of Hogwarts. You can't use express passes on this one, and the line is rather confusing. You're not allowed to bring loose articles with you, unless you can manage to stash them in your clothing. I didn't realize this until I got almost to the front of the line, and I was told to go downstairs to stash my stuff in a locker, except there wasn't a locker available. My aunt was waiting outside, so she took my purse for me and I went back and managed to get back to roughly where I had been in line before, and I ended up on the ride just a few minutes after my cousin. Still, I think the line seemed a bit disorganized. I loved looking at all of the displays inside the castle, though. Talking portraits, desks of significant characters, the Gryffindor common room... It was a definite feast for the eyes and ears. The ride itself is a three-dimensional deal that combines movement and physical displays with virtual ones. You'll get to see several major points inside the castle and out. The idea is that you're following Harry and Hermione on broomstick, and some of the angles are pretty dizzying. I'll admit I walked off this one feeling a little woozy, but it was worth it to get the sensation that I was soaring over the Quidditch pitch or swooping through the Hogwarts dungeons. Several characters from the movies make an appearance as well, so this ride really is a lot of fun.

Also inside the castle is the massive gift shop, Filch's Emporium, where you can buy t-shirts, pillows, pins, action figures and all sorts of other collectibles. One thing I didn't see there was a postcard rack; there's a separate shop for that, and while we were there, they rolled a small cart outside so that we could buy postcards from there as well and have them stamped with the Hogsmeade postmark. Filch's Emporium was the only shop we entered the first day; on the second trip, we perused Zonko's joke shop and Honeyduke's candy shop, both of which were feasts for the eyes. My park souvenirs included a Hagrid pin and Harry's wand; while we didn't brave the massive line at Ollivander's wand shop, a couple of other places sold the wands as well, with styles modeled after the wands of several major characters.

Of course, we also had to try some butterbeer, the beloved beverage that so many Harry Potter fans have longed to taste. Scattered throughout this portion of the park are several butterbeer kiosks, and they draw quite a crowd as well. The plastic souvenir mugs are both snazzy and practical, as you won't have to worry much about them breaking while you're wandering through the park. After the first one, though, you can get it in disposable cups instead the mugs and pay less. The drink itself is a sort of mix of cream soda with butterscotch foam, and it's very refreshing on a hot Florida day. Pumpkin juice, another prominent Harry Potter drink, is available too, but we didn't try that, nor did we eat at the Three Broomsticks, the park's restaurant. Just as the pair of Mickey Mouse ears was my one essential purchase at Disney World, the butterbeer was my Must Buy at Universal, and it was worth the anticipation. Speaking of souvenirs, I highly recommend bringing a couple rolls of quarters and pennies so you can use the pressed penny machines located at many points throughout the park. These are very inexpensive but fun collectibles, and it can be a sort of treasure hunt to track as many down as you can. I think I returned from Florida with more than 30 from the different places we went to, and I would have had more if I'd thought to bring quarters ahead of time.

All in all, Universal's Islands of Adventure is an amazing place to spend the day. It's crowded and pricey, but the rides, characters, shops and general extravagance of the themes presented in as much vibrant detail as possible make it a thrilling stop for Harry Potter fans and fun-lovers of all ages.