Saturday, December 15, 2012

A Little Fellow Embarks on a Grand Adventure in The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

"You're a fine person, Mr. Baggins, and I am very fond of you; but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world, after all."

For as long as I can remember, I have claimed this quote from the conclusion of J. R. R. Tolkien's The Hobbit as my favorite, adopting it as my personal mantra. After all, unassuming hobbit Bilbo Baggins is the first literary character with whom I deeply identified, and that identification has helped to shape my life. No other character has meant as much to me as Bilbo has, so few films have elicited the kind of anticipation within me that Peter Jackson's The Hobbit has. First, I thought it would be one movie that would come out a few years after Lord of the Rings. Later, I was intrigued by the prospect of two. When I heard this year that it would be a trilogy, I chuckled, since the territory it has to cover is so much smaller. Nonetheless, I wasn't about to complain about Bilbo getting three movies for himself, and after seeing the first last night, I really think Jackson and company can swing it.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey starts in familiar territory with Ian Holm's well-preserved 111-year-old Bilbo preparing for the birthday party that, unbeknownst to his nephew Frodo (Elijah Wood in a very brief cameo), will also serve as his going-away party. At the same time, he is recounting his adventure on paper, and at first, I found myself wondering if he would continue to interject his comments, Forrest Gump-style, throughout the film. Instead, Holm's purpose is mainly exposition - providing a history lesson on the conflict that ultimately drove the Dwarves in his direction - and charming bookending device. The rapport between Bilbo and Frodo is great fun, and it makes me curious whether any other latter-day characters - particularly Samwise Gamgee - might turn up for a moment in one of the last two films.

But as much as I love Holm as Bilbo, this film belongs to Martin Freeman, who from his first moments on screen adroitly captures the humor, warmth and hidden stores of courage within this hobbit who is so jarringly whisked out of his comfortable life. He and Sir Ian McKellan delight in the banter of Bilbo and Gandalf's first exchange in one of the scenes that is most faithful to Tolkien's witty dialogue. It cements the curious kinship between the grizzled wizard and the sheltered hobbit. Despite their differences, there truly is a special bond of spirits, of naïf and mentor, of world-weary wanderer and fresh igniter of hope. Gandalf sees in Bilbo a simple purity of soul sufficient to counteract the gathering evil in the world. He is merely one thread in a grand mosaic, but it's a golden thread that reassures the wizard of the high beauty that no Necromancer can blot out.

The Hobbit has always been Bilbo's story, but to a certain extent, Jackson expands it by making it almost equally about Gandalf and deposed Dwarf leader Thorin Oakenshield (Richard Armitage). I've always found Thorin a harsh character, and he remains so here, but in focusing his passion more on his slain relatives than his lost gold, the film makes him come across more sympathetically. For Thorin, this quest is about honor and reclaiming what was stolen from him. For Gandalf, it's about how this relatively minor journey fits in with the much larger picture he sees beginning to take shape. Just an occasional sidelong glance or twinkle of the eye is enough to reveal that Gandalf has his own purposes of which neither Thorin nor Bilbo have any inkling. This is most overt during the sojourn in Rivendell, when he holds a secret conference with Elf lord Elrond (Hugo Weaving), white wizard Saruman (Christopher Lee) and beneficent Elven queen Galadriel (Cate Blanchett). While the presence of the latter two is pure addition by Jackson, it feels entirely plausible and provides one of the strongest ties with the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

In the book, Bilbo's perspective is paramount, and we never leave his side for any length of time. Here, he is sometimes absent for significant stretches. Nonetheless, it still feels like Bilbo's tale, and Freeman portrays him perfectly. We see Bilbo as a gentle but insulated soul. Accustomed to his cozy, solitary lifestyle, he believes himself content to remain cloistered in lush, familiar surroundings, concerning himself only with his own affairs. Where Jackson makes changes to the story, it is often in the interest of creating bonding opportunities for Bilbo and the Dwarves. The tender friendship between Bilbo and the aged Balin (Ken Stott), perhaps the most mild-mannered of the Dwarves, comes across well, as does the more visceral camaraderie offered by the exuberant young brothers Fili (Dean O'Gorman) and Kili (Aidan Turner).

Of course, there's also the slow thawing of Thorin's antagonism toward him and the pure magic of every conversation with Gandalf, whether they are bickering like a couple of crusty curmudgeons or gathering strength from each other in the midst of their frailties. Freeman's comic timing is impeccable, and so is his sense of Bilbo's soul, the courage and compassion that lie deep within him, largely untapped. One of the most exquisite moments in the film occurs when Bilbo awakes to a silent, empty hobbit hole, and for all his grumbling at the unexpected visitors the night before, in his bearing and especially his eyes is the sting of regret that he has missed a meeting with destiny, following by the flood of relief that he can still make the choice he was so abruptly offered. This is a quest that Bilbo needs to take.

I could make complaints about changes and additions to the book, but few of them bothered me. I would have liked to see a few more opportunities for Bilbo to show off his special skills, particularly in regard to Thorin's map, and I'm not sure how I feel about his diving into the fray of a battle. While he does spar with spiders in the book, I always think of Bilbo as a pacifist - as well as one who prefers to stay out of trouble's way when he can. I'm not convinced it's entirely true to him to do something so potentially self-sacrificing, especially this early in his journey, but it does powerfully demonstrate the sense of responsibility he has come to feel for his comrades. One of my favorite additions is the sage advice Gandalf offers him: "True courage is about not knowing when to take a life, but when to spare one." If courage is to be equated with mercy, Bilbo truly shines in his encounter with Gollum, and Andy Serkis is once again a master class in acting as he brings him to life in all his wretched misery, infusing the tormented character with a humanity that makes him hilarious, horrifying and heartbreaking all at once.

The most glaring addition to the film is Radagast the Brown, a wizard who, as played by Sylvester McCoy, is definitely one egg short of an omelet. Despite the eccentricity of this batty St. Francis of Middle-earth who travels about in a rabbit-drawn sledge, he, like Gandalf, sees the wonder inherent in small things, making him more attuned to the evil that affects the vulnerable. As I have always been fond of the character and found him underused, I was happy to see him here, even if he is largely relegated to comic relief. He may look ridiculous, but at the same time, he has an insight the stately Saruman lacks. While actually inserting him into Bilbo's adventure is a major departure, it's one that makes me smile, and it is another element of the film that helps set the stage for Frodo's later quest.

Peter Jackson loves battle sequences, and the movie is full of them. While it's probably fair to say he goes a bit overboard, particularly when he creates battles that aren't in the book, they are exciting and should be enough to satisfy those coming to the movie for an adrenaline rush. The film is solemn when it needs to be, with the somber chant of the Dwarves in Bag End a particularly potent example, and Howard Shore's score enhances the most soul-stirring moments. It also rarely goes more than a few minutes without some humor, which is sometimes found in Tolkien's zingy dialogue and sometimes in the visual and physical comedy of the fastidious Bilbo and various bumbling Dwarves. While it perhaps borrows excessively from the Lothlorien interlude in Fellowship of the Ring, the sojourn in Rivendell swells with the amusement of the clash between the gruff Dwarves and the ethereal Elves. Only Gandalf and Bilbo truly find it a restful retreat.

Much has been said about Jackson's innovative film techniques here. I saw it in 2D and noticed no significant difference, though as before I was impressed with the absolute visual majesty of the world Jackson and his team of artisans and effects wizards created. It absolutely feels like stepping into Middle-earth, from the humble, verdant beauty of the Shire to the sylvan glory of Rivendell and the grotesque gloom of Gollum's cave. While I wanted to focus on the story opening night, I am curious about the 3D and will probably try to see it in that format before it leaves theaters. I'm sure that I will also catch subtle details I missed the first time around; there's just so much to take in.

Is it overly grandiose to turn this fairly simple tale into a full-fledged trilogy? Perhaps. Even Jackson didn't intend to initially, but the film doesn't feel overblown to me. It feels like a legitimate first part of a prequel trilogy with Bilbo at the center. While his mission is not as important as Frodo's, it has grand ripples. What's more, it is a more personal story, since one character remains absolutely central to the proceedings. While we may spend some time with Gandalf and with Thorin apart from Bilbo, I certainly don't anticipate the kind of fragmentation we saw in The Two Towers and Return of the King. This is a journey of many hues, but first and foremost, it's the tale of a peaceful, pastoral recluse who goes out into the world and discovers all that it has to offer - and all that he has to offer it.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

The Wachowskis Weave an Intricate Tapestry With Cloud Atlas

This time last year, there was only one movie that was on my absolute must-see list for the 2012 Christmas season. I’ve been waiting for The Hobbit, Peter Jackson’s adaptation of the first novel that captured my imagination, for nearly a decade, so naturally that was my top priority, and it still is. But more recently, other movies arriving in the theater have piqued my interest. One of those was Cloud Atlas, a lavish tapestry of storylines set in six different times with the same actors portraying multiple characters.

Tom Hanks fan that I am, he was the actor whose presence in the movie most drew my interest, especially after his slip of the tongue when he got a little too into character for a PG-rated morning show. He is one of only five actors to portray a character in all six timelines, and I was amused to discover that the character that got him into trouble only appears in the movie for a few minutes and is the only one of his characters with an R-rated mouth. Generally speaking, foul language is not prevalent. However, violence is, and I found myself averting my eyes on several occasions – and wishing I had on several others. Nonetheless, I considered it a thoroughly worthwhile cinematic experience.

The Wachowskis adapted and directed this very expensive indie based on David Mitchell’s novel, which I have not read, but in reading about it, I am intrigued by the difference in format between the two and how that affects the stories they tell. In the novel, Mitchell starts with the earliest story and stops midway through each until he reaches the story set furthest in the future, which he tells in its entirety before doubling back and ending the others, concluding at the beginning. By contrast, the film begins and ends in the future, and the structure is far more complex as the threads of each tale interweave. In the beginning, it’s very confusing, but then things slow down enough for us to get to know the characters in each setting a little before we depart, and then the whole movie becomes like a Magic Eye painting as you sit back and try to see the grand picture amongst all those short scenes.

I am a person who deeply loves finding connections between seemingly unrelated things, so this movie was an absolute treat for me. It’s a joy to try to predict what is going to happen in one timeline based on what is happening in another and to speculate on why certain scenes were arranged the way they were. This is a story about stories, about how our stories affect each other and those who are born long after us. It’s a movie that shows just how profoundly interconnected we all are, despite systems that attempt to separate us. Cloud Atlas encourages viewers to see beyond such cultural and societal divisions to the fundamental beauty and dignity of each person. Despite moments of horrific violence in each timeline, not to mention environmental devastation in the future stories, the overall tone is optimistic. Good may have to sacrifice a great deal, but it remains triumphant.

Another fascinating aspect in the movie is the game of trying to identify a particular actor in each story. Hanks, Halle Berry, Jim Sturgess, Hugh Grant and Hugo Weaving all appear in every timeline, albeit sometimes only very briefly. Jim Broadbent and Ben Whishaw appear in five each, James D’Arcy, Keith David and Susan Sarandon in four, and Doona Bae, Zhou Xun and David Gyasi in three. It’s interesting to ponder how these actors were selected for these particular roles. Given the fact that the film seems to espouse the idea of reincarnation, are we to believe that each character played by a particular actor is the same soul in a different time? Are they just similar types? Is it totally arbitrary? I can’t quite decide myself.

Weaving, for instance, plays a vile, oppressive character in every timeline, so it’s easy to imagine that he really is the same person in different times. Hanks, on the other hand, is repulsive in the 1800s but heroic in later timelines, though this could still apply, as it would show that he is progressing. However, his 2012 incarnation as a vengeful author seems like a major step in the wrong direction, unless it’s just the Wachowski’s sly way of stickin’ it to critics who have panned their movies. In any case, it makes for interesting conversation and ensures that this is the sort of movie that you could watch multiple times and always find something new.

Each story has to do with a character battling some type of oppression. In the 1800s, well-to-do Adam Ewing’s world is turned upside-down when he recognizes the humanity in a slave named Autua. In the early 1900s, brilliant composer Robert Frobisher apprentices himself to an arrogant musical genius who demands he relinquish ownership of his work. In the 1970s, plucky journalist Luisa Rey fights for her life while attempting to uncover deadly information that a corporation wants kept quiet.

In 2012, down-on-his-luck publisher Timothy Cavendish is tricked into taking up residence in a horrific nursing home and recruits several conspirators to help him stage a break-out. In the 2100s, a clone named Somni-451 learns that the world is far more beautiful and terrible than she has perceived in her existence under a totalitarian regime, and she attempts to enlighten others. Finally, the 2300s bring us to primitive villager Zachry, who must overcome his prejudices and guilt in order to help a technologically advanced visitor.

Hanks plays the grizzled Zachry, who may be my favorite character in the movie, though there are many wonderful ones. His peculiar speech pattern and the rugged landscape he must traverse makes this a role I suspect would be almost as demanding as his role in Cast Away. There’s a certain appealing purity about this story, and I love its adventurous scope. I also love the more light-hearted present-day story, which is far and away the funniest of the tales, filled as it is with over-the-top, wacky British humor. At the same time, the triumph Timothy and his fellow “inmates” pursue feels very real. The only storyline I’m not especially fond of is the one involving the clones. Both very creepy and extremely violent, it makes me shudder to think what could become of the world if technology continues to advance so quickly. However, there’s no doubt it is a compelling cautionary tale.

Cloud Atlas is a most impressive movie, and I’m sure it will receive plenty of recognition when the time for Oscars comes around. Its richly layered stories and expertly acted characters emphasize the beauty and terror of the world and the rich composition that can result from intertwined lives.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Amy Heckerling Is Not Clueless When It Comes to Adapting Austen

On a recent visit to my friend Libbie’s house, she expressed surprise that I had never seen Clueless, one of the classic teen movies of our generation. I was happy to fill in that gap in my cinematic knowledge by sitting down with her to watch this 1995 movie written and directed by Amy Heckerling, particularly since I knew that the movie was a contemporary adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma.

Alicia Silverstone plays Cher, the protagonist who is sweet and bubbly but totally insulated from the realities of the world. An heiress with an immaculate wardrobe and a knack for charming her way out of sticky situations, Cher takes to matchmaking as part of an attempt to improve her debate grade. After her plan to unite two lonely teachers (one of whom is played by the always-hilarious Wallace Shawn) proves even more successful than she dared hope, she turns her attention to her peers, and that’s where the trouble begins…

It was interesting for me to watch this because of my familiarity with Emma. I’m sure I would have found it quite enjoyable had I watched it without comparing it to anything else, but I think my awareness of the source material made it even more fun to pick out characters and plot threads and try to guess how they would be expressed in a modern setting. It made the movie more predictable, but it also led to some nice surprises when Heckerling changed things up a bit.

I love the relationship between Cher and her irascible father (Dan Hedaya), which is one of the chief indicators that Cher is not quite as clueless as she seems, since she takes great care to look after his health and well-being. Meanwhile, the squabbling dynamic between her and her activist-minded older stepbrother Josh (Paul Rudd) is a lot of fun and at the heart of several of the movie’s best scenes. The most maddening of her relationships is the friendship she develops with offbeat new student Tai (Brittany Murphy). While she means well in trying to make her hip and snag her a super-cool boyfriend, she never really takes the time to listen to what Tai wants.

The cast in general is strong, particularly Silverstone, Rudd and Murphy, and I found Breckin Meyer quite adorable as the good-natured stoner slacker who initially catches Tai’s eye. These characters are lovable even when they are aggravating, and Silverstone particularly brings that dichotomy across well. How can such good intentions go so terribly awry? It happens all the time, and things get pretty messy here for a while, but ultimately, we’re brought to a satisfying conclusion. The twists and turns are largely Austen’s, but Heckerling is to be congratulated on how well she incorporates them into a tale set in Beverly Hills in the 1990s.

While Clueless is rated PG-13 and is definitely best reserved for teens and adults, there’s still a certain sense of innocence about it. I imagine Jane Austen would be mortified by some of the material here, but for the most part, Heckerling does the story justice, demonstrating the troubles that can result from trying to run other people’s lives instead of supporting them as they make their own decisions.

Monday, November 26, 2012

A Lonely Girl Reaches Out to Her Father in The House Without a Christmas Tree

I have always been very fond of Christmas movies and specials, but this year I am becoming aware of how many I have missed over the years. Last night, I watched The House Without a Christmas Tree, a 1972 television special that my boyfriend Will especially likes. About an hour long, it deals with a small family striving for a Christmas miracle of which the titular tree is only a symbol.

It’s 1946, and 10-year-old Addie (Lisa Lucas), a precocious girl with spectacles and long, braided brown hair, decides that she would really love to have a tree this Christmas, even though she is reluctant to admit how much this long-neglected tradition tugs at her. She lives with her practical but warm-hearted grandmother (Mildred Natwick), who is the most attentive adult in her life. Addie also receives support from her sweet-natured fifth-grade teacher, Miss Thompson (Kathryn Walker), which makes her eager to lead the class effort to buy her an extra-special Christmas present.

Unfortunately, the person she most longs to connect with remains consistently distant. Her father Jamie (Jason Robards) is stingy with his money, which is frustrating for a lively child but understandable for someone who lived through the Depression not long ago. What’s more demoralizing is his stinginess with his time. Jamie rarely converses with Addie or engages in any kind of quality activity with her, and most of his interactions with her are brusque and disapproving. Addie wants a tree to bring light and life into a drab home, but what she really wants is a relationship with her father.

All three leads do a wonderful job in establishing the characters as individuals of depth and real human emotion. Lucas brings an intellectual but angsty quality to her performance, revealing hues of sweetness and dejection at being so disregarded by the most important person in her young life. Natwick’s is a maternal presence, and while her performance is subtler, we also see the emotion bottled up behind a stoic veneer.

Of the three, the only one I was previously familiar with was Robards, and he is excellent as a man who has retreated into himself in the aftermath of tragedy. He speaks little, except when he is pushed to point of a frightening outburst, but his craggy visage says a great deal. The change that occurs within this weary widower over the course of the special is not so dramatic as Ebenezer Scrooge’s but is deeply touching nonetheless.

Adding to the charm of the tale are the flannelgraph-style illustrations that punctuate the action and the cute sub-plot about Addie’s love-hate relationship with classmate Billy Wild (Brady McNamara), which shadows her relationship with her dad in some ways. The historical setting is also fun and most noticeable through the girls’ dresses and Addie’s constant use of the word “nifty,” along with the difference in prices that makes a shop owner’s kind gesture considerably more significant than it would seem by today’s standards.

At just over an hour in length, The House Without a Christmas Tree doesn’t take long to watch, and its heartfelt tale still has the time needed to let its events unfold gradually. A stirring story of reconciliation, it celebrates the beauty of traditional Christmas trappings but, more than that, of a family whose members truly appreciate, respect and make merry with one another.

Blake Shelton Offers a Very Country Yuletide Album With Cheers, It's Christmas

Blake Shelton is not an artist I know much about, but based on my first impression of him with the recently released Cheers, It’s Christmas, I would certainly not be opposed to checking out some of his other music. This is an album firmly within the country genre, so that could be a turn-off to some, but for those who enjoy country or are at least open to it, Shelton has created a holiday treasure.

Several of the songs on this album are extra-peppy Christmas classics like the Miranda Lambert duet Jingle Bell Rock, the short, tambourine-laden Winter Wonderland, and Blue Christmas, which is unusually chipper and features a nifty saxophone solo. On the slower side of things are the piano-driven White Christmas, the leisurely Christmas Song and I’ll Be Home for Christmas and the mellow acoustic guitar-driven Silver Bells, a duet with Xenia. Right in between is Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!, which is upbeat but cozy.

Impressively, nearly half of the songs on this album are new or at least not the standard Christmas fare. There’s a New Kid in Town isn’t original to this album, but it is a newer song, and a lovely one at that. This duet with Kelly Clarkson is reverent and slow-paced as it speaks of the wonder of Christ’s arrival. Michael Buble joins Shelton for a Christmasized version of the Canadian crooner’s hit song Home; with just a few adjustments, the mellow ballad becomes such a natural cozy Christmas tune that it seems a wonder it didn’t start out that way.

Oklahoma Christmas is a charming duet with Reba McIntyre. Fiddles add to the down-home feel of this song about longing for an Oklahoma holiday while being stranded in a snowstorm in Tennessee. Time for Me to Come Home, a duet with co-writer Dorothy Shackleford, is romantic in tone, having to do with the yearning to return to a loved one at Christmas. As with Oklahoma, the fiddle really adds to the homey feeling of the track.

On the whimsical end of things, we have the fun Santa’s Got a Choo Choo Train. With fast-paced guitar to simulate the rhythm of the rails and a train whistle as a more overt reminder, it’s an old-fashioned story-song about Santa using a train instead of a sleigh and is one of my favorite tracks. Finally, there’s The Very Best Time of Year, a low-key track he performs with Trypta-Phunk. Its domestic images of comfort radiate general goodwill for all as the album closes.

All told, this is a solid Christmas album with a nice mix of new and classic, sacred and secular. Anyone who doesn’t mind such an unapologetically country album should be able to find something to enjoy here.

Friday, November 23, 2012

Cee Lo's Magic Moment Lives Up to Its Title

I know next to nothing about Cee Lo Green aside from the fact that he released a foul-mouthed but oh-so-catchy kiss-off song that I’ve heard several times with altered lyrics. Considering the bleep-worthiness of this song, I wasn’t at all sure I’d like his Christmas album, Cee Lo’s Magic Moment, so it ended up being one of the sweetest musical surprises of the season for me.

Cee Lo has a deep, soulful voice that makes him well suited to R and B-style Christmas classics such as What Christmas Means to Me, first recorded by Stevie Wonder; Donny Hathaway’s funky This Christmas; and Charles Brown’s soul-stirring Please Come Home for Christmas. There’s a sense of passion and sincerity in his delivery that really grabbed me and held my attention.

Songs of romance are plentiful here, and he fares similarly well with those. His rendition of Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas is peppy and includes some vocal acrobatics, as does the duet Baby It’s Cold Outside; while it starts off fairly sedate, he and Christina Aguilera soon let their voices go wild as they sing over top of each other. Meanwhile, the brass-heavy Merry Christmas, Baby is a fun number that ties into the Christmas album of Rod Stewart, who guests here alongside Trombone Shorty.

The smooth but percussive Christmas Song is warmly relaxing, while The River is melancholy without being morose and his version of White Christmas is one of the bounciest I have heard. The rollicking keyboards are the real stars of Run Rudolph Run, but the vocals are great in a retro rock kind of way.

Silent Night has a truly reverent Gospel feel to it, with faint choral backing to a gorgeous lead vocal. After I listened to the album, I watched the video, which features a lanky Santa and several scantily clad women in red and white running in slow motion; the bizarre spectacle certainly detracts from the beauty of the music and the sense of sincerity, which is a shame. Thankfully, there is no such video for Mary, Did You Know?, which has rich instrumental backing and an even more soulful sound to it.

Cee Lo’s two most unusual tracks still are not wholly original, but they are a lot of fun. He teams up with the brilliant Straight No Chaser for a hugely entertaining rendition of You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch that is loaded with harmonic surprises. His recitation of several lengthy passages from the book adds to the enjoyment as well.

All I Need Is Love is weird and wacky, drawing from the Beatles’ All You Need Is Love with a beat straight out of Mambo No. 5 and a strong sampling of Muppet classic Mahna Mahna. Several Muppets have a solo line or two, so picking them out is a lot of fun, even though it takes a few listens to catch everything. Make sure to listen through to the end to allow perpetually cranky Statler and Waldorf their opportunity to weigh in, even though their assessment naturally differs from mine. This isn’t an easy track to sing along with, but it’s loads of fun, and it also has some nice sentiments about the joy of togetherness this time of year.

I’m still not entirely sure where Cee Lo is coming from, especially after seeing that Silent Night video, but his album is a joy to listen to nonetheless. If you’re into soulful renditions of Christmas classics, you should give it a spin too.

Christmas with Scotty McCreery is Cozy Indeed

Last year, I got more excited about American Idol than I have in years. That was because of Scotty McCreery, the sweet-mannered teen with a deep, old-fashioned country voice who wound up taking the crown. I enjoyed his debut album last fall, and I was thrilled to find out that he had a Christmas album out this year. As I expected, I found Christmas With Scotty McCreery to be a delight.

McCreery includes a good mix of the sacred and secular. Among the more lightweight tracks are the two-minute-long, fiddle- and piano-heavy Let It Snow; the bluesy Jingle Bells; the fast-paced, electric guitar-backed Holly Jolly Christmas; and the jazzy, piano-driven Winter Wonderland. These are fun, lively and ideal for clapping or even dancing along. So is the less familiar Santa Claus Is Back in Town, a rockin’, bluesy Elvis cover for which he adopts a different tone in imitation of the King of Rock and Roll.

On the solemn end of things is the reverent The First Noel, which is backed by acoustic guitar and occasional vocal harmonies and is marvelously mellow; Mary Did You Know?, a sincere if slightly too fast-paced rendition of this thoughtful examination of Mary; the leisurely The Christmas Song; and the nearly five-minute-long O Holy Night, which is very sedate and is augmented by the presence of the harp, not to mention my favorite, often-omitted verse.

Happily, this album also includes two originals. Christmas in Heaven, a lovely duet with Jenifer Wrinkle, is written from the perspective of someone recently bereaved who is observing the sights and sounds of the season and wondering what the departed loved one is experiencing. A gentle song backed by acoustic guitar, this would work well alongside Ryan Kelly’s Not Far Apart, which takes the perspective of the one in Heaven.

While that track is very sweet, I prefer Christmas Comin’ Round Again a peppy four-minute-long song about the tendency of Christmas to inspire reconciliation. With its heartfelt harmonies and its array of instruments including mandolin, accordion and tambourine, it’s a joy to listen to, and its point that “It’s time to let go and let the love in,” exemplified by several anecdotes about mended fences, is well taken.

I’ll admit I’m a little prejudiced when it comes to Scotty McCreery, as he’s one of those singers whose voice just melts me after a couple of notes. I think it’s clear, though, that this is a young man with a bright musical future, and I’m glad he didn’t dilly-dally in putting out his first Christmas album. I’d be happy to invite that low voice and bright spirit onto my stereo anytime, especially during this festive season.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John Reunite for Christmas

John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John made a great pair in Grease, so it stands to reason that they might do well to team up elsewhere too. Still, it surprised me to see that they had decided to collaborate on a new Christmas album. This Christmas is not an album I would listen to repeatedly, but it is fun to listen to these two sing together and imagine them as Danny and Sandy decades into the future.

The album consists mostly of traditional Christmas songs, a couple of which, unsurprisingly, have a predominant romantic theme to them. Baby It’s Cold Outside makes for a fun duet, particularly since Newton-John is the one imploring Travolta to stay rather than the other way around. While the pace feels overly slow to me, the flirtatious bickering fits these two well, while the brass-heavy This Christmas, which features a lengthy piano solo, presents a more united expectation of a cheery Christmas.

Several of the songs have a jazzy feel to them, particularly the peppier numbers such as the two-minute-long Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree, which includes a smooth sax solo by Kenny G, and Winter Wonderland, which includes Tony Bennett and the Count Basie Orchestra. Slower songs include the melancholy I’ll Be Home For Christmas, which is augmented by the presence of Barbra Streisand, and White Christmas, which includes the often-omitted introduction and resolves with some lovely harmonies.

Of the two, I would say that Travolta’s voice has held up much better than Newton-John’s, and his sounds particularly strong on Rat Pack-style numbers like The Christmas Waltz, which he performs by himself, and Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, in which he sounds much better in his solo lines than she does. Together, however, they fare very well, particularly in the cozy The Christmas Song, which concludes with them wishing each other a merry Christmas.

They also sound quite nice in conjunction with others. With James Taylor in Deck the Halls, they make a terrific trio, and they complement choruses of children and adults well on the Celtic-flavored Silent Night and the intriguing medley of Auld Lang Syne and Christmastime Is Here. While I don’t think the blend entirely works, the focus on nostalgia is present in both, and it makes for a memorable album closer.

OF course, given the parties involved, I was hoping there would be a song specifically written to emulate the feel of Grease, and that comes with I Think You Might Like It. This bouncy number does have a rockin’ 50s style to it, but it focuses on a couple who have already found domestic bliss and have just been separated from each other a while. It’s a nice song, but it doesn’t really stick out in my mind, and I doubt it will become a big radio hit.

Ultimately, this album delivered about what I thought it would. Sometimes it comes across as pretty campy, though it also is quite nice in places. If you’re looking for a true fusion of Grease and Christmas music, you’ll be disappointed, but as a sweet reunion between two old friends, This Christmas is worth a listen.

Originals Augment Colbie Caillat's Christmas in the Sand

My familiarity with pop songstress Colbie Caillat has mostly been limited to her effervescent hit single Bubbly, but that one song is fun enough that I was eager to see what her Christmas album would sound like. Entitled Christmas in the Sand, it’s upbeat and bouncy, and at least one of the four original songs seems like it has the potential to make a splash. If you’re looking for a sunny alternative to all of the wintry albums out this time of year, this isn’t a bad option.

Of course, that’s not to say that winter weather doesn’t come up in several of these songs. We’ve got the playful Baby, It’s Cold Outside, a duet with Gavin DeGraw; the leisurely The Christmas Song, which features Justin Young, a mandolin and sleigh bells; and the bouncy, choir-backed Winter Wonderland.

We’ve also got traditional Christmas elements like Santa Claus. Given the unfortunate fondness female pop singers seem to have for the avaricious Santa Baby, I’m not surprised to see that here, though I always consider that one skippable. More enjoyable is Santa Claus Is Coming to Town, which has an interesting rhythm, starting out slow and then becoming much more of a rock tune halfway through.

Other familiar tunes delve into the cozy elements of Christmas. I really like her take on Silver Bells, which features some nice music box-style accompaniment as well as harmonizing with herself, and the changing of the line “Christmastime in the city” to different locales such as “the country” and “Hawaii” adds to the sense that this is an album for those who don’t connect as much with the most prevalent Christmas images. Auld Lang Syne, with its acoustic guitar, fiddle and choral backing, makes for a nice end to the album, while the peppy, romantic Merry Christmas, Baby, a duet with Brad Paisley, is a fine beginning.

Most interesting, though, are the original songs, and I was impressed that Caillat included four, a full third of the tracks. The title track includes sleigh bells but discusses Christmas on the beach, proclaiming, “I saw Santa in his bathing suit!” The tone seems rather risque to me, and it’s probably my least favorite of the four because of all the innuendo, but it’s also fun to think of these figures commonly associated with snow hanging out on the beach. Also on the slightly naughtier end of things is Mistletoe, a plea for romantic reconciliation which isn’t strictly new but which Caillat co-wrote.

I prefer Every Day Is Christmas, a four-and-a-half-minute-long love song along the same lines as Neil Diamond’s You Make It Feel Like Christmas. “Every day is Christmas as long as every day you are mine,” she declares in this choral-backed pop-rock ballad. My favorite track, though, is Happy Christmas, which lists of all the stuff associated with Christmas before taking an opposite stance to Santa Baby. “Maybe we worry too much about wishing and not enough about giving,” she muses. This endearing track espouses random acts of kindness and general goodwill, and for its refreshing message, it’s the one I most hope to hear on the radio.

Caillat has a unique voice that just seems to exude happiness, so I’m glad that she decided to release an album in a genre so marked by happy music. The fact that her father produced the album adds to the sense of authenticity that particularly comes from her self-penned songs. While I would have liked to hear a more personal touch on some of the other songs, this would make a charming gift for those who already enjoy her laid-back style.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Disney Offers a Nice Mix of Christmas Classics With a Few New Tunes

We've moved into full-on Christmas mode in my house this year, so when I recalled that yesterday was Mickey Mouse's birthday, a Disney Christmas album seemed like a good way to celebrate. So it was that we stumbled upon Disney's Family Christmas Collection, a group of 20 songs befitting the season.

Many of the songs here just have a pleasant, generic feel to them. Some have a peppy kid's chorus and sometimes an adult soloist in the tradition of many classic Disney recordings. Songs in this vein include Frosty the Snowman, Joy to the World and We Wish You a Merry Christmas. Most of the tracks are quite short, ranging from about a minute to two and a half minutes, which keeps things moving along quickly and almost guarantees that if you don't like the current song, you'll soon find a song that you do like.

The album isn't especially well mixed, as the first batch of songs generally has a much more upbeat feel, while the second batch is more sedate. Still, this could be handy, as kids might prefer the first half and adults the second. Hark! The Herald Angels Sing and Winter Wonderland are both tracks that appear earlier on the album but better fit the tone of the second half, as they are short choral arrangements with plenty of harmony. Other tracks in this style include the serene Bring a Torch Jeannette, Isabella, the madrigalesque Carol of the Bells and the reverent O Come All Ye Faithful.

Then there are the traditional songs that highlight individual singers. My favorite of these is probably Jolly Old St. Nicholas, which is performed by Anndi McAfee, whose childlike voice is sweet, strong and perfectly suited to the innocence of the narrator. Though I didn't realize this initially, she voiced Cera the triceratops in several sequels to The Land Before Time, a staple of my childhood.  Catherine Lucille's lovely version of Silent Night, backed by an "ooh"-ing chorus, is one of the album's longest tracks at nearly four minutes in length. Another is Chris Martin's slightly Celtic-tinged What Child Is This? Meanwhile, Terry Wood's a cappella rendition of Away in a Manger is just over a minute long.

Other songs seem to be new. The album concludes with Martin's touching Angel Time, which has to do with the idea that we are all observed and protected by angels. On the sillier end of things is Rayvon's Santa Rap, a beatbox-heavy rap that deals with the distribution of toys to kids. My definite favorite song along these lines here is Rare Old Christmas, an old-timey, pipe-laden song performed by Ed Miller, who sounds like a charming elderly Irish pub denizen as he offers a benediction to listeners, wishing them laughter and the joy of music.

Of course, it would be disappointing to listen to an album in honor of Mickey if the mouse himself didn't put in a few appearances. He, Minnie and Goofy are an integral part of the bouncy Jingle Bells and Deck the Halls, and they also chime in on Here Comes Santa Claus. Donald is a bit quieter on this album, perhaps because of his poor enunciation skills, but he's right in the thick of things on the sound effects-laden Sleigh Ride. The more prominent duck, however, is Ludwig Von Drake, who sings the only unique Christmas song that involves the Disney characters. That would be the very entertaining The Science of the Season, which attempts to explain such phenomena as flying reindeer and Santa squeezing into chimneys but ultimately chalks much of it up to magic.

This album includes 20 tracks but is only 45 minutes long, so it really is fast-paced. Plenty of certified Christmas classics appear here, though, and most of them are quite straightforward. While I generally prefer a little more personality and comedy in a novelty Christmas album, the more general tone of most of these tracks makes it fitting for background music at a party, and if anyone listening closely happens to recognize Mickey, Minnie, Goofy, Donald or Drake, that should just be more reason to smile.

Lady Antebellum Emphasizes the Harmony of the Season in the Lustrous On This Winter's Night

My familiarity with the country group Lady Antebellum is pretty limited, but I have heard the trio on various awards shows and the like, and I’ve loved the tight harmonies and the bluegrass-tinged instrumental accompaniment, so I was eager to give their new Christmas album, On This Winter’s Night, a listen. I was not disappointed; thus far, it is my favorite of the Christmas albums I have heard for the first time this year.

Hillary Scott, the only woman in the group, takes the lead on several tracks. Her pleasant voice is the most prominent on the brief, big band-sounding A Holly Jolly Christmas and the mellow All I Want for Christmas Is You, which highlights an uncharacteristically merry-sounding mandolin. The First Noel begins as her solo, but it soon incorporates some lovely vocal harmonies, and she alternates with Charles Kelley and a choir for Silent Night (Lord of My Life), a beautifully reverent track whose descant pleading for Christ’s presence is its most memorable feature.

Given my limited familiarity with these singers, I wasn’t as sure of the identities of Kelley and Dave Haywood, though I understand that of the two, Kelley usually takes the lead. Male solos – albeit usually with some harmony here and there – include the plaintive I’ll Be Home for Christmas; the brass-heavy This Christmas; and the electric guitar-backed Silver Bells, which is the longest track on the album at five minutes long.

Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) ultimately feels more like a duet, though it starts out as a male solo. It’s livelier and less morose than I’m usually accustomed to hearing it, which is also true of Blue Christmas, which actually includes some whooping, along with electric guitar and brass. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas alternates soloists, who are accompanied by gentle acoustic guitar and later piano, while the short but charming Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow is a true group effort that incorporates some cheery piano and fiddle.

On This Winter’s Night is the title track, and it’s also probably my favorite. Aside from the descant on Silent Night, it’s the only song unique to the album, and it manages to touch on romance, general goodwill and the birth of Christ all in one song. Nearly four minutes long, it starts as a mellow male solo and builds to a full, rich sound bolstered by an angelic-sounding children’s choir. Particularly potent is the bridge, which declares, “The king became a child a long, long time ago, and the child became a king so the whole wide world will know what Christmas really is.”

The intricate harmonies of these three singers underscore the sense of harmony that Christmas is meant to bring about, and the rich instrumentation adds to the beauty of this collection of 12 songs. While it will probably appeal most to country fans, this sometimes reverent, sometimes playful album is suited to anyone who loves harmonious Christmas music.

Monday, November 12, 2012

Rod Stewart Delivers a Long-Overdue Yuletide Album with Merry Christmas, Baby

I have never counted Scottish pop star Rod Stewart among my favorite entertainers, but his raspy voice has a certain appeal by mere virtue of its unusual sound. I’ve also enjoyed several of his hits over the years, particularly the tender benediction Forever Young, which ran on repeat alongside a slideshow of photos of me that my dad put together for my college graduation party. When I saw that he had a new Christmas album out, my interest was piqued.

What really surprised me was the fact that this is the first Christmas album to be released by the seasoned recording artist, who has recently turned to crafting albums of standards. Granted, I’d never associated him with any Christmas recordings, but it was hard for me to believe that in his long career, he’d never come up with the almost-ubiquitous Christmas album. That knowledge just made me all the more eager to enjoy the David Foster-produced Merry Christmas, Baby, is a nice jazzy backdrop to a cold winter’s evening.

As is typical for albums of this type, many of the tracks have a similar sound to them. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, Santa Claus Is Coming to Town and Blue Christmas share a leisurely pace and prominent piano, with other instruments coming in during instrumental sections. The little hint of Jingle Bells that concludes Merry Little Christmas is a nice touch, as is the bit of scatting toward the end of Santa Claus, but none of these tracks is particularly distinctive.

Guitar is more the standard for White Christmas, which is distinguished by a groovy riff at the beginning and end, and Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!, in which the guitar ripples nicely and is ultimately joined by the saxophone. When You Wish Upon a Star doesn’t really offer anything new, but it is a nice relaxing track, even if I always scratch my head a bit when it appears on a Christmas album.

Stewart changes things up a bit more with several collaborative tracks. Merry Christmas, Baby is a fun duet with up-and-coming master brass man Trombone Shorty. The electric organ and jingle bells add to the exuberance of the track, as does the backing chorus, and the addition of the line “May the good Lord be with ya” both recalls Forever Young and gives the secular song a touch of a gospel flavor. Another romantic track is What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?, which is peculiar in that it is spliced together with an old recording of Ella Fitzgerald, creating a virtual duet. Of the duets, this one struck me as the least dynamic, and once I realized the way it had been compiled, I understood why.

By contrast, I found Winter Wonderland, the duet with modern-day crooner Michael Buble, a vibrant delight. The two alternate lines then harmonize on the chorus, and both seem to have fun playing around with melody. It’s especially enjoyable when one starts and another starts a few seconds later, creating an almost round-like effect. The burst of snow-like noise that concludes the track is the perfect icing on what probably ties for my favorite track. The other is We Three Kings, a duet with Mary J. Blige. While the two of them sound very good together, it’s the instrumentation that really knocks me out on this one, with spooky pipes and pounding drums giving it a very mystical feel and making it one of the neatest versions I’ve heard.

I always hope that any given Christmas album I listen to will include at least one song I haven’t heard elsewhere, and this album did not disappoint me there. Trombone Shorty returns for the boisterous Red-Suited Super Man, a lively song that begs, “Santa, bring some love to us all.” The sound is fun, but the message is fairly serious as it expresses a desire for peace and brotherhood throughout the world. Hence, it reminds me quite a bit of “My Grown-Up Christmas List,” though the tone is peppier and less earnest. It’s not a song I see becoming a favorite, but it is an enjoyable track.

The album ends on a very traditional note with the final two tracks. Silent Night begins with simple acoustic guitar accompaniment, but by the third verse, he is joined by an angelic-sounding children’s choir, and adults backed by an organ join in for the grandiose repetition of the first verse. Finally, given Rod Stewart’s heritage, it seems particularly fitting that he chose to conclude with Auld Lang Syne, the traditional New Year’s blessing crafted by lauded Scottish poet Robert Burns. The flutes and pipes add to the Celtic flavor of this song that ends the album on a note of wistful gratitude.

There are times when the album gets a bit snoozy for my taste, but the tracks are nicely arranged so that the bouncier tracks punctuate the slower ones before there is much danger of nodding off. While it’s not the most dynamic or original album out there, Merry Christmas, Baby is a finely crafted Yuletide treat that should please fans of Rod’s distinctive voice and Christmas music in general.

Monday, November 5, 2012

Number 3300: Kevin Arnold Navigates Adolescence and the Vietnam Era in The Wonder Years

Several years ago, my brother Nathan informed me that he dislikes Joe Cocker's cover of the Beatles' With a Little Help From My Friends. He wasn't accusing him of singing out of tune; he merely objected to the morose tone of what was originally a very peppy song. For me, however, Cocker's was the first version I heard, and it's Ringo Starr's bouncy delivery that feels a bit foreign. His soulful take on this tribute to friendship serves as the theme song of The Wonder Years, in which the bonds forged in childhood are looked on with reverence and regret. I watched the show enough as a kid to understand its expert mix of mirth and melancholy and regard the characters with affection, but it wasn't until this year that I saw it from beginning to end and truly appreciated its brilliance.

The Wonder Years, created by Carol Black and Neal Marlens and starring an irresistibly cute Fred Savage as lovable but snarky and sometimes downright stupid Kevin Arnold, is set in the late 1960s and early 1970s, a turbulent era of great social and political change. It also happens to be my favorite period of music, which the show exploits generously, incorporating the hits of yesteryear to great effect in each episode. As today is the 71st birthday of Art Garfunkel, half of the iconic duo Simon and Garfunkel - whose music accompanies, among other moments, the bar mitzvah of Kevin's best friend, Paul Pfeiffer (Josh Saviano) - I thought it a fitting day to reflect upon this series and celebrate it with my 3300th review.

There are many television series I regard with great fondness but few I have watched from beginning to end, not missing an episode. Perhaps the first to fit this category was Freaks and Geeks, Paul Feig's tender, wickedly funny tribute to his childhood. That was pretty easily accomplished since the entire series sadly consists of only 18 episodes. Despite this limited number, I consider it a truly sterling series and have watched most of those episodes several times over. Watching The Wonder Years, it was easy to draw parallels and see how the later show drew inspiration from it.

Both are set in a very particular time and use pop music to help keep us rooted there. While I don't particularly care for the screechy hard rock that largely forms the soundtrack of Freaks and Geeks, I'll readily agree it's brilliantly incorporated, and the use of Styx's Come Sail Away in the pilot episode remains one of my absolute favorite applications of music in a television series. With The Wonder Years, I watched every episode eager to hear which hits would be pulled out of the generous catalog of that time.

More often than not, they were songs I already loved and that gained power in the context Kevin provided. Along with the aforementioned use of Simon and Garfunkel's Bookends, particularly potent examples include Bob Seger's Why Don't You Stay?, which accompanies Kevin's vigil over his beloved Winnie Cooper (Danica McKellar) after she is injured in a car accident, and Paul Stookey's The Wedding Song (There Is Love), which serves as the backdrop to the unconventional but beautiful nuptials of Kevin's hippie-ish sister Karen (Olivia d'Abo).

Both shows center on one family and a few close-knit friends. The Arnolds and the Weirs are similar in many ways, both salt-of-the-earth families with a cantankerous, hard-working father and a sweet-as-honey stay-at-home mom. Sam is like Kevin in many ways - sweet, dorky, very loyal to his best friends. For Kevin, that's just Paul, who, like the later Bill, is tall and awkward with glasses and a boatload of allergies. Sam also has Neil, who is like the smart-alecky side of Kevin separated out into a different person and who, like Paul, is Jewish. Meanwhile, Sam's sister Lindsay is a non-conformist like Kevin's sister Karen, albeit a much more likable and fully-realized character.

Freaks and Geeks also tackles many of the same subjects as The Wonder Years, from athletic aspirations and romantic yearnings to academic crises and domestic disasters. As I watched The Wonder Years, I saw many moments from which the later show seemed to borrow. For instance, in the second episode of the series, Kevin and Paul become curious about the birds and the bees and sneak a peek in a detailed how-to book before deciding to stick to more innocent activities for the foreseeable future. In Freaks and Geeks, James Dean-esque rebel Daniel hooks the naïve Sam, Neil and Bill up with a pornographic movie, which sickens them. The first couple seasons in particular offer enough parallels with Freaks and Geeks that I can't help thinking there was some influence.

One thing that the two series do not have in common is the narration. While Freaks and Geeks feels nostalgic, everything is in the moment; we don't see Sam or Lindsay looking back and trying to make sense of it all. On The Wonder Years, however, that is an integral part of the series, and it amplifies the show's melancholy tone. While the futures of the main characters are not explicitly revealed until the final episode, much can be gleaned from the way that the older Kevin discusses certain events and characters. Daniel Stern's pensive monologues, particularly at the end of episodes, feature some of the most poetic writing ever to grace a television show.

While the immediate events themselves would provide ample fodder for discussion on their own, these often philosophical musings sparked many an intense conversation between me and my boyfriend Will, who watched it with me over the course of several months, usually long-distance through the magic of synchronized Instant Netflix, often with my parents joining in on my end. We've watched a lot of things together, but so far, this is the only complete series, and I can hardly imagine a more appropriate choice. It examines the painful journey that turbulent change sparks in all of us, as well as the profound beauty to be found in meaningful relationships and the peace of mind that comes from being able to laugh at our own imperfections, and it does all this through the lens of an era in which Will grew up and which I always embraced as my own despite missing it by a decade or so.

The Wonder Years is a show about love and loss. It is fitting that its magic begins to wear off with the advent of the fifth season; those last two seasons, which find Kevin in senior high school, often distanced from Paul and Winnie, are hit-or-miss, with several episodes detailing exploits involving friends who are neither very memorable nor deeply bonded to him. Even the teachers are something of a disappointment; while we see the same teachers again and again in junior high, particularly irascible Coach Cutlip (Robert Picardo), no one from that last couple of years makes much of an impression. The early seasons are the funniest and the most golden.

Nonetheless, when Will suggested early in the fifth season that we skim the rest, I recoiled, and I'm glad I insisted we stick it out. Otherwise, we might have missed some powerful episodes focusing on such subjects as the effects of the Vietnam War on the best friend of Kevin's older brother Wayne (Jason Hervey), the trauma of Kevin's beloved grandfather (David Huddleston) having to give up his car, the efforts of Kevin's mother (Alley Mills) to distinguish herself in the workforce and how deeply his overworked dad (Dan Lauria) yearns for the tranquility of a fishing cabin in the woods. These are episodes that needed several years of painstaking character development to pack the punch they do.

This is a series with many characters, but only a few are truly key. When someone mentions The Wonder Years, usually what springs to mind first is Kevin and Winnie. The absolute sweetness of that first relationship, even with all its ups and downs, has a halcyon quality to it that makes them one of television's most enduring couples. Composer W. G. Snuffy Walden even has a special guitar riff that accompanies many of Winnie's appearances, reminding audiences just how perfect she is in Kevin's eyes, even after the passage of two decades. Similarly, Kevin enjoys the sort of ironclad friendship with Paul, particularly during the early days of the series, that every kid wishes for. In some ways, the series is very much about Kevin's relationships with these two peers.

However, the show is also about family, and Kevin has just as much to navigate there. We see him dodge the cruel whims of bullish Wayne, whose maturation process is particularly slow, and scratch his head at the changes in Karen, whose enthusiasm for the ideals of the counter-cultural movement yields snippy self-absorption that fades as she finds happiness with a gentle, rumpled fellow college student played by a more-endearing-than-I've-ever-seen-him David Schwimmer. We see him struggle to assert his independence from his mother's smothering affections. Most of all, we witness his attempts to understand his father, a man he sometimes loathes and sometimes admires but always loves more deeply than he is able to comprehend during the confusing rush of adolescence.

The Wonder Years is an exceptional show. You can certainly watch it in dribs and drabs as I did in my childhood, and more likely than not, you will have a thoroughly satisfying viewing experience. However, if you really want to get the full benefit of the series, I highly recommend the immersive route I took this year. Not only is it an exquisitely crafted series in all respects, it is an outstanding catalyst for in-depth conversation, so watch it in the company of those without whom you couldn't get by and walk away from it with a deeper appreciation for the wonder of life and the ways in which they contribute to that.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Dunder-Mifflin Bids Michael Farewell in Season Seven of The Office

Several years ago, my brother received the first four seasons of The Office on DVD for Christmas. I’d never watched the show before, but a series of January marathons turned me into a certified fan. Recently, I’ve been catching up on what I missed during season seven, wherein Michael Scott, the lovably clueless boss played by Steve Carell, departs from the series.

The Office is a mockumentary-style office sit-com set at the Scranton, Pennsylvania branch of Dunder-Mifflin, a company that specializes in paper products. As the seventh season begins, two newer characters are beginning to play a larger role. One of them is sniveling Gabe Lewis (Zach Woods), a liaison with the corporate headquarters of Sabre, the company that bought Dunder-Mifflin. He’s a bit annoying, but his vulnerable nature is also endearing.

The other is cheery Erin Hannon (Ellie Kemper), the receptionist who took over for Pam Beesly (Jenna Fischer) during her season five absence. It’s fun to see her settling into being a more regular part of office life, especially since she is probably the character I relate to most. Though she’s a bit ditsier than I am, I think we share a childlike outlook on the world and a general sense of goodwill. I also appreciate her because she is perhaps the only member of the office staff who is genuinely on Michael’s side all the time without hoping to gain something from her support. That allows for several nice moments as Michael’s days on the show draw to a close.

Meanwhile, another newer character returns mid-season to stir things up and is ultimately the catalyst that leads to Michael’s exit from Dunder-Mifflin. This arc is handled in a very satisfying way and allows Michael some of his most mature moments on the show (as well as some of his most ridiculous along the way). All of the other office denizens are up to their old tricks and have added a few into the mix.

Tireless prankster Jim Halpert (John Krasinski) and plucky Pam are now married with a daughter, so this season involves a lot of adjustments to their new role as parents, from finding a trustworthy babysitter to getting little Cece to sleep to determining the saturation point at which their coworkers are sick of hearing about their new addition. One of the most interesting episodes involves the christening, which sparks an exploration of meaning for several characters. Meanwhile, Jim’s nemesis, assistant regional manager Dwight Schrute (Rainn Wilson), continues to do everything in his power to bring his rival down and to elevate himself, and we actually get to see what a Dwight regime would look like in one of the season’s most memorable deviations.

Preppy Andy Bernard (Ed Helms) participates in a community theater production of Sweeney Todd in one of the season’s most entertaining episodes, allowing Helms a chance to show off his great voice. The ongoing tension between him and Erin and the budding friendship between him and Daryll Philbin (Craig Robinson), the sage, no-nonsense warehouse manager who now has an upstairs office, adds to the fun of the season.

Accountant Oscar Martinez (Oscar Nunez) demonstrates his intelligence as Erin’s Scrabble tutor but is horrified when Michael temporarily outsmarts him in another episode. Elsewhere at the accountants’ table, sweet but slow-witted Kevin Malone (Brian Baumgartner) experiments with toupees and finds favor with newcomers through his simplistic approach to the world and snippy Angela Martin (Angela Kinsey) finds a new romantic prospect in a state senator. Chatterbox Kelly Kapoor (Mindy Kaling) sounds like she knows a thing or two this season after undergoing special training, and Ryan Howard (B. J. Novak) has ceased to be weirded out by Michael’s excessive attentions and is instead determined to use them to his advantage.

Little has changed for sad-sack public relations man Toby Flenderson (Paul Liebersten), perpetually grumpy Stanley Hudson (Leslie David Baker), frequently drunken Meredith Palmer (Kate Flannery) or soft-spoken, sweet-natured Phyllis Vance (Phyllis Smith), but they all contribute to the general amusement of the season. Elderly oddball Creed Bratton (Creed Bratton) is just as peculiar as ever, and his brief reign as temporary manager is deliciously bizarre. Guest roles and cameos from such comedy greats as Will Ferrell, Ray Romano and Jim Carrey are very entertaining, as is Michael’s rendez-vous with Ricky Gervais’s David Brent, Michael’s counterpart on the British version of The Office.

This show draws its strength from its diverse cast of quirky characters, and season seven showcases each of them just as well as the previous seasons. It’s also a significant season because it brings Michael’s time to a close, and as he is arguably the central character, this packs quite an emotional whallop. Michael is one weird individual, but he also has a whole lot of heart, so this farewell season is especially touching. He may not quite be the world’s best boss, but he’s certainly one of the most unforgettable.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Jordin Sparks Takes the Spotlight in Sparkle

During a recent girls’ night out, my friends and I went to see Sparkle, a movie that marks the end of Whitney Houston’s movie career and the beginning of 2007 American Idol winner Jordin Sparks’. Directed by Sam Akil and written by Mara Brock Akil and Howard Rosenman, the movie deals with the formation of a fictional girl group in the late 1960s.

The head of the group is the tempestuous Sister (Carmen Ejogo), who has a beautiful voice and arresting stage presence but is dogged by bad decisions, particularly involving men. Its heart, however, is the titular Sparkle, whom Sparks plays. The younger Sparkle is used to living in the shadow of her sisters , not only the glamorous Sister but the studious Delores (Tika Sumpter), who aspires to be a doctor. While Sparkle has plenty of musical talent, particularly as a composer, she feels uncomfortable in the spotlight and doesn’t want to upset her mother, washed-up singer Emma (Houston), by following her into an industry that nearly destroyed her.

Sparkle has its light moments, and certainly Sparkle herself is meant to be an inspirational figure as she goes from surreptitiously scribbling song lyrics in a book only she sees to performing her own music in front of appreciative crowds. She also gets glammed up, which of course means losing the geeky glasses she sports at the beginning of the movie, something that this proud four-eyes always finds annoying in geek-to-chic-type movies. But the clothes are a minor detail. The important thing is that she is finding her way in the world, with some help from romantic interest Stix (Derek Luke), who knows the music business and thinks she ought to be a part of it.

Because this is a movie about three sisters and their mother, there is a strong family element to it. Each sister is distinctly different but has been heavily influenced by Emma’s strict rules, as well as her troubling missteps. As the oldest who suffered most from Emma’s early mistakes, Sister seems in greatest danger of repeating them, and her storyline is the darkest, delving into issues of domestic abuse and drug use. Because of this, the movie does get a bit gritty at times, but not enough to be a challenge to the PG-13 rating.

For the most part, the music is done well, though I didn’t find any of it particularly memorable. What I enjoyed most were the songs Sparks tackled alone or with back-up, rather than the group songs in which she is relegated to the background. Sadly, Houston’s voice is not in fine form here; she appears unwell throughout the film, which is somewhat appropriate for the character but still difficult to watch in light of the pop idol’s untimely demise.

The cast on the whole is solid, with Sparks and Luke particularly standing out to me. I also enjoyed Curtis Armstrong as Larry, the kind but slightly acerbic executive at Columbia Records who expresses an interest in Sparkle’s group. All told, it’s a fairly forgettable but nonetheless enjoyable movie that is well suited to those who like Motown or Jordin Sparks.

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Bill Murray Heads to Summer Camp in Meatballs

Last week, my friend Julie came over for a movie night, and we decided on Meatballs, a 1979 summer camp movie starring Bill Murray toward the beginning of his career. Neither of us had seen it, while my boyfriend has seen it several times and counts it as a favorite. It proved a fun flick that also sparked some discussion about our own summer camp experiences.

Murray plays Tripper, a camp counselor and practical joker who particularly relishes picking on square counselor Morty (Harvey Atkin). At the same time, he truly cares about the kids under his supervision, even if his laconic comments might sometimes suggest otherwise. Many of these kids are return campers, so he already has them pretty well figured out and knows just how to push their buttons. This year, however, he has taken a special interest in a lonely, insecure young man named Rudy (Chris Makepeace).

The friendship that develops between Tripper and Rudy really becomes the heart of the movie, but there are all sorts of side stories going on as this is a camp full of quirky characters, most with goofy nicknames to boot. Among the older campers, the members of the opposite sex are the prime preoccupation. Girls compare chest sizes and read smutty novels; boys spy on the girls and dissect the possible meanings in their interactions with them. As the end of the summer draws near, they also become increasingly focused on beating their slick rivals from a nearby summer camp in the annual multi-event competition, and they don’t care if they have to play dirty to win.

As summer camp movies go, this is pretty typical, though most of the movies of this type that I have seen came afterwards so it may have helped set the standard for them. The movie is full of the sort of hi-jinx one would expect from a bunch of youngsters thrown together for several weeks in a vast outdoor playground, as well as the bonding that occurs as a result of these close quarters. It was filmed on the site of an actual summer camp in Canada, and the scenery is gorgeous. While the camp has a reputation for being a bit on the ramshackle side, the kids couldn’t ask for more idyllic surroundings.

This movie is probably most suitable for the summer months. It left me wanting to jump in a lake and go for a swim, but it’s gotten a little cold for that now that we’re firmly in fall. Still, whatever time of year you watch, it’s a funny, nostalgic look at the joys and traumas of summer camp that makes for good light-hearted viewing.

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Christine's Perfect Little Angel Is a Bad Seed

It’s coming up on Halloween, the time for all things spooky, and I got a jump start on that the other day when I watched The Bad Seed, the 1956 thriller directed by Mervyn LeRoy about an eight-year-old girl who is not nearly as sweet as she seems. Earlier this year, I watched the shuddersome We Need to Talk About Kevin, the disorienting and disturbing tale of a sociopath who makes his mother miserable from infancy and ultimately turns to the violence she suspects he is capable of. This movie is much more watchable but still quite unsettling.

Patricia McCormack plays pig-tailed blonde Rhoda Penmark, who by all accounts seems perfectly sweet and well-mannered when we first encounter her. She plays piano, she curtsies perfectly, she showers her father, departing on business for several weeks, with affection. It isn’t long, however, before we catch a glimpse of her sense of entitlement and the way it can quickly spiral into rage. In these moments, McCormack’s performance reminded me of Veruca Salt from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Unlike Veruca, however, her manipulation of her parents is more subtle and insidious.

Playing Rhoda’s mother Christine is Nancy Kelly, who starts the movie seeming slightly addled and eventually goes into full-tilt madness as her world begins to crumble around her. The plot provides an explanation for Rhoda’s behavior that is some comfort to the audience, since her veiled malice didn’t just spring out of nowhere – though it could make someone think twice about adoption. Christine loves her daughter, but she also fears her as evidence of her potential for evil begins to build.

The movie is pretty effective in letting that proof come together slowly, though when a boy Rhoda resented turns up dead early in the movie, it’s not much of a leap to imagine that she was involved. His parents are an interesting study in how a family responds to tragedy; Frank Cady is the dignified Henry, who bears his pain with quiet stoicism, while Eileen Heckart’s Hortense takes to perpetual drinking and lodging half-formed accusations at Christine. Her performance would be comical were its trappings not so tragic.

It’s also interesting to study other characters and their interactions with Christine and Rhoda. Evelyn Varden is Monica Breedlove, neighbor and landlady who delights in spoiling Rhoda as much as she can. The slight tension between her and Christine in regard to this overindulgence provides the first hint that something about Rhoda may be just a little off. Joan Croydon is a bit prickly as school administrator Miss Fern, who clearly knows something about Rhoda that she isn’t telling, and sneering janitor LeRoy, played by Henry James, knows how to get a rise out of Rhoda better than anyone else.

The movie is black and white, which amplifies the fact that this is an older movie and that certain things just don’t fly. Hence, most of the unpleasantness is well off-screen, making it perfectly watchable for even someone as squeamish as me. My boyfriend, who directed the play once, found aspects of it to be a bit ham-fisted, and he also noted how differently the movie ended from the play. The conclusion as it stands is a bit cheesy, but one can certainly understand how movie-goers, particularly those of the 1950s, might prefer it. But then I’ve already said too much, as a stern post-credits warning insists that viewers not divulge any details of the climax.

I doubt this is a movie I would have chosen to watch on my own, but it’s suitable for this time of year, and I found myself drawn into it quite well. I agree some of the acting seems a little over-the-top, but then again, half a dozen major cast members created those roles on Broadway first, so it seems that sometimes, they simply didn’t tone things down enough for the screen. Some directing choices also seem a little odd, like showing the highly intelligent Rhoda assembling a wooden puzzle designed for kindergarteners. On the whole, however, it’s an effectively troubling movie that makes for an appropriate pre-Halloween feature.

The Tudors Intrigues But Hasn't Quite Gripped Me Yet

When I think of Henry VIII, my first association tends to be the maddeningly catchy song by Herman’s Hermits, while my second is the corpulent figure presented in several paintings. Lately, though, I’ve been getting another look at this infamous monarch thanks to The Tudors, the series created by Michael Hirst that begins with Henry as a virile young man.

Jonathan Rhys Meyers stars as King Henry, who is surrounded by people anxious to improve their station through his royal favor. Most of the characters on the show are schemers driven by ambition and lust for power rather than any noble purpose, and even those who serve a higher calling, such as future saint Thomas More (Jeremy Northam), can be hideously cruel. One of the few truly sympathetic main characters is Catherine of Aragon (Maria Doyle Kennedy), who is devoutly religious and deeply wounded by her husband’s lack of interest in her.

As a Lutheran, I find it interesting to hear all the comments on Martin Luther, who was just beginning to become a concern for the Catholic Church and its orthodox members. Several characters have strong opinions about him, and most of them are quite virulent. Meanwhile, in the first season, Henry is moving toward the establishment of the Anglican Church, which will allow him to divorce Catherine and take another wife.

That wife-to-be is Anne Boleyn, played by Natalie Dormer with a restrained seductive ferocity. She is a vixen who really knows how to capture and hold the king’s attention by flirting while maintaining her distance, but there is a pathetic quality to her as well because she is being used as a puppet for her conniving father Thomas (Nick Dunning), who, like Sam Neill’s cunning Cardinal Wolsey, is willing to stoop to just about anything for the chance to grasp more power.

Visually, the show is impressive, fully immersing viewers in the world of 1500s England. The acting is uniformly excellent as well. Because the series is on Showtime, it is able to be more grittily realistic than a network television show might be, though it’s frankly a bit more graphic than I would prefer. We’re treated to several fairly intense scenes involving trysts between characters, and more than that, most episodes include grotesque deaths, whether through execution, duels, suicide or illness. One episode involving the plague is fit for Halloween with a plot and images that are truly nightmare-worthy.

The first season has ten episodes, and each is expertly crafted in terms of props and costumes. It’s difficult to latch onto many characters, though, because few of them are very likable, not to mention the fact that it’s a pretty sure bet most of them won’t be around very long. The series also has a very somber tone to it, with virtually no humor to offset the often oppressive intrigues. It is interesting to get this glimpse, however embellished, into 16th-century Europe, but this is a show perhaps best suited to history buffs and those with a high tolerance for unpleasantness.

Friday, September 28, 2012

Little Critter Has Cat Trouble in What a Good Kitty

Over the summer, my brother Nathan was taking a walk in a cemetery when he stumbled upon a tiny kitten sitting on a gravestone. When he turned to head home, the kitten followed him, and he decided to bring the furry fellow home for the night. That night turned into several, and soon Chester – named after the man on whose grave he was situated – became one of the family. He’s an adorable gray tiger who purrs like a motorboat. He’s also a boatload of trouble, not unlike the feline at the heart of the Mercer Mayer I Can Read! book What a Good Kitty.

What a Good Kitty is a recent installment in the extensive Little Critter series. It is a My First reader, the lowest reading level of the five in the I Can Read! line of books for youngsters. Because of this, the book contains very short sentences featuring simple words and lots of repetition. Most pages have only one or two sentences, usually describing Kitty’s actions and the reactions of Mom, Dad and Little Sister, all of whom find this newcomer a bit of a nuisance.

As in most Little Critter books, the young scamp with the spiky hair and rumpled overalls narrates, and his thoughts are very little kiddish, making him easy for preschoolers, especially boys, to identify with. As his kitten gets reprimanded for making messes, the reader feels his frustration and empathy, since he, too, has a tendency to get into trouble just because of his high energy level.

Kitty herself is a soft gray cat with a white belly. She spends part of the book looking a bit exasperated, as though even she doesn’t have the energy to put up with Little Critter all day. At other times, though, she wears a sly smile indicating she can match him for mischief. This book shows some of the shenanigans families with kittens are likely to encounter: torn newspapers, unraveling yarn, traumatized fish and the like. And if the cat goes outside, getting stuck in a tree is always a real possibility.

This is a cute story about the trials and rewards of pet ownership. Those who want to make the book extra-fun should pay close attention to the spider and the mouse that appear throughout, often mimicking the behavior of Little Critter or Kitty. Mayer’s illustrations are so vibrant and full of details that there is enough to merit a second or third reading even though the story itself is very simple. No matter how intently they peruse the pages, for children eager to welcome a kitten into the home, this sweet tale with give them a good idea of what they are in for.

Friday, September 21, 2012

Betsy's Wedding Is a Beautiful Disaster

M*A*S*H is my all-time favorite sit-com, so I’ve always been pretty familiar with Alan Alda, but I mostly think of him in association with television, so it was interesting to see him in the 1990 movie Betsy’s Wedding, which he also wrote and directed.

In this comedy, Alda plays Eddie Hopper, a devoted dad with big dreams. There’s a Walter Mitty-ish quality about this man who spends so much of his life in daydreams, but he has achieved some measure of happiness in the real world as well. He and his wife Lola (Madeline Kahn) love each other, and they have two grown daughters, one of whom is about to get married.

Brat Pack staple Molly Ringwald plays Betsy, the spirited young woman for whom Eddie is determined to throw the perfect wedding. The problem? Betsy’s future in-laws are equally adamant about throwing the wedding themselves, and neither wedding fits with the vision that Betsy has. With so many different people determined to have a hand in this ceremony and the reception to follow, will the happy couple get lost in the shuffle?

This is a fun comedy that shows how crazy a wedding can get when there are two very different but equally strong-willed sets of parents involved. Groom-to-be Jake (Dylan Walsh) comes from a very wealthy family, and his parents’ snobbery is even more aggravating than the appeals from Betsy’s relatives to incorporate both Catholic and Jewish traditions into what she intends to be an irreligious wedding.

Less directly involved with Betsy but very enjoyable are her scuzzy uncle Oscar (Joe Pesci), who rents the couple a decrepit apartment and makes shady deals with Eddie to finance the wedding, and young, gentlemanly mobster-in-training Stevie Dee (Anthony LaPaglia), who undertakes an old-fashioned courtship of Betsy’s sister Connie (Ally Sheedy), a tough-talking cop.

The film is fun and zany without being unrealistic, though Eddie’s fantasy sequences add to the fun of the movie. There’s also a definite warmth to it, especially from Eddie’s end as he comes to terms with this big change in his family and in the sweetness of the romance between Stevie and Connie. Movies revolving around weddings always have plenty of room for disaster as emotions run high and everyone strives to ensure this day is absolutely perfect. Betsy’s isn’t, but the chaotic events that punctuate it only serve to make it more memorable and a truer reflection of the bride and groom.

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Trixie Seeks to Bring a Family Together in The Mystery of the Castaway Children

A baby turning up in a doghouse is an inherently peculiar situation. When that doghouse happens to belong to the family of teen sleuth Trixie Belden, it’s the beginning of another mystery. Was the baby kidnapped? Abandoned by his parents? Could there be some other explanation? In between taking turns caring for the infant that has charmed them all, spunky Trixie and her fellow Bob-Whites are determined to find some answers in The Mystery of the Castaway Children, the 21st book in the Trixie Belden mystery series.

This book, written by a ghostwriter under the name of Kathryn Kenny, is especially warm-hearted as Trixie and her friends and family rally around this infant, growing more attached all the time but also yearning to reunite this wayward child whom they have dubbed Moses with his parents. It’s a mystery in several steps, and Trixie is very methodical about gathering new clues as parts of it are unveiled. While she throws caution to the wind a couple times, her dedication to the case is admirable, and some of her deductions are quite clever.

As is generally the case, Trixie’s best friend Honey is right by her side to help her, and this time, they have an unusual ally in their efforts. Usually, Sergeant Molinson of the local police department warns Trixie off of her sleuthing, but this time, he actually requests that she and Honey work with him. This adds a neat twist to the story and makes Trixie feel like her dream of being a professional detective is more within reach than ever. It also allows readers to see this frequently antagonistic side character in a more encouraging and kind-hearted light.

All seven of the Bob-Whites – the others being Trixie’s older brothers Mart and Brian, Honey’s adopted brother Jim and their friends Diana and Dan – are involved in this story and eagerly share the responsibilities of caring for a baby. It’s fun to see them all turning to mush over this newcomer, even the normally snarky Mart. Of course, the title indicates more than one castaway, and when Trixie and her friends learn of a second missing child, it adds a whole new dimension to the mystery and allows for her little brother Bobby to have a key role to play in the proceedings.

Woven throughout the story is a lesson on the importance of financial responsibility, as well as several pointers on how to take care of a baby. Mostly, though, this is just a solid story of teamwork and ingenuity as a close-knit group of friends try to figure out how an infant ended up in their care and how to reunite his broken family.

Friday, August 24, 2012

Derek Jacobi Leads a Masterful Cast in I, Claudius

When I paid a visit to my boyfriend Will’s house earlier this month, he suggested that we make our way through the miniseries I, Claudius while I was there. He had seen it before; I hadn’t, and while I’m not as much of a history buff as he is, I was up for it, especially once I realized the title character was played by Derek Jacobi, a classically trained British actor I first encountered in a memorable episode of Frasier.

Jacobi serves as the wizened narrator whose comments bookend most of the episodes, while we see him in various younger forms in the flashbacks that make up most of the story. The nearly 11-hour-long miniseries covers a span of about 80 years during the Roman Empire of about two millennia ago. We see the reigns of austere Augustus (Brian Blessed), bitter Tiberius (George Baker), crazed Caligula (John Hurt) and finally gentle Claudius, the stammering, twitching, limping fellow who survives decades of carnage by letting everyone think he’s a simpleton. It’s a masterful performance of a character who seems out of step with his violent time, a wise scholar deeply in touch with his emotions and committed to a family that barely notices him.

The cast is outstanding in all respects, as is the screenplay by Jack Pulman, who adapted the Robert Graves novels I, Claudius and Claudius the God for the screen. While the dialogue has a feel of antiquity about it, it also crackles with wit, and each part of the miniseries has moments that are laugh-aloud funny. Of course, this is far from a comedy, and I found myself grateful that Will had watched it first, since he could tell me just when I ought to avert my eyes and usually warned me ahead of time precisely what sort of unpleasantness would follow. While much of the violence occurs off-screen, there are still plenty of moments that I would consider too grotesque for sensitive eyes.

Because Claudius is so lovable, not to mention the one character you know is going to stick around until the final installment, he is an anchor in the midst of the madness that often surrounds him. Many of the characters are sympathetic at one point or another, but most are also conniving or cruel. The most methodically murderous one of the lot is Augustus’s wife Livia (Sian Phillips), who subtly and patiently plots to remove any and all obstacles that lie between her son Tiberius and the throne. While her actions are largely despicable, Phillips is fascinating to watch in the role, and she and Augustus, the long-lived, rather curmudgeonly Caesar who is my second-favorite character in the series, have some wonderfully playful scenes together.

Blessed is largely endearing as Augustus, who comes across as a pretty decent fellow, all things considered. While he lives to a much riper age than most of the characters in the miniseries, he is the one I missed the most after his departure, and he and Tiberius both come across as extremely hen-pecked by Livia. The most absurd of the four emperors is Caligula, and Hurt seems to revel in his madness as he turns the palace into a den of debauchery and orders executions for nonexistent crimes. Even before assuming the throne, his cold heart and depraved pursuits are chilling, but ultimate power amplifies his beady-eyed insanity.

While I was unfamiliar with many of the actors in the uniformly excellent cast, it was a treat to see some I recognized from later films. My Star Trek geekery and Lord of the Rings fandom were both satisfied by the presence of Patrick Stewart as Tiberius’s ambitious right-hand man Sejanus and John Rhys-Davies as Macro, who helps drive one of the most stomach-turning scenes in the miniseries. I also found it very interesting to see the Biblical Herod Agrippa (James Faulkner) from a different perspective as the worldly but affectionate longtime friend of Claudius.

While I couldn’t say just how accurate this miniseries is, anyone who has an interest in ancient Roman history would most likely enjoy this intricate tale directed by Herbert Wise. Those with a weak stomach should take warning that poisonings, stabbings and outright slaughter are frequent occurrences, and it’s also worth mentioning that there are some pretty steamy scenes, particularly the seedy exploits of Caligula and of Claudius’s libidinous young wife Messalina (Sheila White). I would not recommend this to anyone younger than high school, but it could be a great means of getting older teenagers excited about history.

As for me, while I looked away multiple times, I found I, Claudius a thoroughly rewarding venture that showcases some of the shining stars of British stage and screen, particularly Blessed and Jacobi, and gives me an instant reference point when I hear someone suggest that the world has never been as violent or immoral as it is now.

Gruntly Is Too Greedy in All For Me and None For All

Pigs are widely considered to be rather, well, piggy, and that particularly comes across in children’s books. One recent picture book that utilizes this stereotype is All For Me and None For All, written by Helen Lester and illustrated by Lynn Munsinger. This duo has teamed up on many occasions to tell tales of critters behaving badly or having just a little trouble discovering their place in the world. In this case, the main character is a pig named Gruntly who has never learned how to share.

Gruntly’s greediness has given him a bad reputation among his peers, which include a sheep, a chicken, a small dog and two more well-mannered pigs. They know that his motto is the titular phrase; he wants to get as much as he can, and he doesn’t care who he has to deprive in order to satisfy himself. Gruntly certainly comes across as a bully, though it’s hard to say whether he is truly malicious or just completely clueless about how to behave. Either way, his pushy, self-serving demeanor does not make him very popular. Is there any way of reforming this hog?

Lester and Munsinger make a great team, with Lester’s simple but lively text accompanied by Munsinger’s fun pictures. In this book, Woolworth the sheep is the only named animal not to wear clothing of some kind. The pigs are fully garbed in shirts and pants, while the dog wears a shirt and the chicken wears a bandana. While the two other pigs, Hampshire and Berkshire, are difficult to tell apart since they are both gray, Gruntly is easily identifiable as the only pink pig in the bunch, aside from the park ranger who is dressed all in green.

Part of the fun of this story is that it involves a scavenger hunt. Each leg of the hunt features a rhymed clue. Gruntly comes to his own conclusions about the end of each verse in an effort to move things along more quickly, but he guesses the wrong word each time. This leaves kids open to try to guess the correct word themselves before it is revealed. It also furnishes a lesson about the importance of patience and of following directions accurately.

The primary lesson in the book, however, is to share with others and not take things that don’t belong to you. For a hoggy youngster like Gruntly, drilling that message into his head is no easy task, but the method is a good one for impressing upon children the value of courtesy and generosity.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Droofus the Dragon Has a Huge Heart

Dragons are powerful mythological creatures whose role in most tales is to antagonize and terrorize. Sometimes, however, they come across much more sympathetically. Famous fire-breathers of this type include Puff the Magic Dragon, Elliot from Pete’s Dragon and Kenneth Grahame’s Reluctant Dragon. I just ran across another fine addition to this list thanks to prolific author-illustrator and former Disney animator Bill Peet.

In How Droofus the Dragon Lost His Head, Droofus is just a youngster when he falls behind a group of migrating dragons. Unable to find them again, he goes in for a landing and makes a life for himself on the ground. Droofus has an unusually soft heart, and he is more interested in rescuing small creatures than eating them. In fact, he is so tender-hearted that he decides to restrict his feasting to grass. This vegetarian dragon is able to grow to a hearty adulthood, but how will he fare when he is discovered by humans? Will he have the opportunity to demonstrate his goodwill?

Peet has a delightful style of illustrating, and all of his characters brim with personality. Droofus is a vibrant blue and green, while his wings are pink. He seems to shimmer with iridescence. Instead of jagged teeth, he has a jagged mouth, which sometimes looks very happy and sometimes very downcast but never looks ferocious. Most of the other characters are small birds and woodland creatures, but the people who come into the story halfway through are most expressive, particularly the weathered farmer who isn’t sure what to make of this enormous winged reptile.

Peet seems to specialize in animals that are significantly different than others of their kind. In this case, it is Droofus’s eating habits and pleasant manner that distinguish him. However, this is not a story about him gaining acceptance from his fellow dragons. Rather, it’s about him learning to carve out his own path and find a way to prove to the skittish people he encounters that he is not a threat.

This is a fairly long story, with several paragraphs on each page, so it builds slowly, and it works well as a read-aloud. It could even be broken up into halves and read as a two-parter. There is suspense aplenty in this story as the dragon faces an unanticipated injury and a threat from a king who pursues him not out of fear but out of aesthetic appreciation. With such a provocative title to the book, can there be a happy ending for Droofus?

Through it all is the core of kindness in Droofus’s heart and the way that it impacts those with whom he interacts. For those who prefer their dragons friendly, How Droofus the Dragon Lost His Head is a thoroughly satisfying tale.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

A Slightly More Somber Chuck Still Entertains in the Fourth Season

Last year, my family and I breezed through the first three seasons of Chuck, the refreshingly funny and wholesome NBC dramedy about an unassuming computer geek who becomes a spy after having a top-secret government file downloaded into his brain. At that point we had to stop, since season four was currently in progress. It took us a while to get back into a good watching groove with the fourth season on DVD, but it proved to be thoroughly charming once again.

As someone who spent as much time puzzling over LOST as I did, my dad continues to express admiration for the gradual way the mysteries of Chuck unfold, always seeming to make sense eventually as more pieces of the puzzle emerge. In the fourth season, we delve more deeply into the secrets surrounding Chuck’s family. Despite numerous revelations about him, particularly in season two, there remains plenty left to discover about his father, while his mother is the main focus as she returns after a long sojourn undercover, leaving Chuck – and us – constantly second-guessing her true loyalties.

As always, Zachary Levi is wonderful as Chuck Bartowski, though he is not quite as unassuming as he was in the beginning. Now that Chuck is finally in a relationship with Sarah Walker (Yvonne Strahovski) and has learned how to exert proper control over the Intersect that now allows him special abilities as well as knowledge, he seems more like a regular spy and less like a hapless everyman whose ingenuity and sweetness gets him out of precarious situations. There’s less room for creativity as he conquers the baddies; usually he simply dispatches them with kung fu or a stun gun, which is efficient but not as funny as some of the outlandish situations from earlier seasons.

That’s certainly not to say that there is no humor in the fourth season, but there’s a general feeling of settling into a routine and maturing. Most of the romantic tension has dissipated, though some remains as Chuck and Sarah don’t always see eye to eye on everything. The show finds ways of keeping just enough conflict going there to make things interesting, even as they remain one of television’s sweetest and most affirming couples. Chuck’s best friend Morgan (Joshua Gomez), a bit of a tag-along doofus for much of the series, really comes into his own here, both in his management skills at the Buy More and the unique skill set he implements as a part of Chuck’s spy team.

Big changes loom for everyone as Chuck and Sarah contemplate marriage, Chuck’s devoted sister Ellie (Sarah Lancaster) and golden boy brother-in-law Devon (Ryan McPartlin) prepare to welcome a new addition and less-surly-than-before assassin John Casey (Adam Baldwin) adjusts to fatherhood after getting to know his sweet-natured daughter Alex (Mekenna Melvin), who may just be the woman of Morgan’s dreams. This lends the season a somewhat somber tone, though it still feels cheerful more often than not.

Just as Quantum Leap and Enterprise alum Scott Bakula is an inspired choice to play Chuck and Ellie’s father, Linda Hamilton, whose geek cred includes starring in the Terminator movies and the Beauty and the Beast television series, seems perfect for the maternal role in this pop culture-heavy show. Former James Bond Timothy Dalton also has a key role to play as Alexei Volkoff, one of the series’ most intriguing villains, particularly in the way he relates to the Bartowski clan. His storyline throughout the season takes a number of twists and turns, but I found myself very satisfied with where it ends up.

As in the past, this season is littered with geeky references, with Star Wars seeming most prominent in my mind, both in a thematic sense and as a symbol for the extended childhood from which Chuck and Morgan are slowly detaching themselves. One scene involving some long-held memorabilia is particularly heartbreaking, even as it paves the way for an entertaining new living arrangement for Morgan. This season seems to be about growing up in a sense, which is never easy and is particularly painful for the audience because it signals a move into the last act of the series. Nonetheless, these are still the same great characters, so even as they change a bit, their appeal does not. We're stretching out that last season as long as we can; it will be a great shame to see them go.