Richard Harris Intimidates in the Tragic Irish Drama The Field

In preparation for St. Patrick’s Day, I’ve been loading my Netflix queue up with Irish movies. The first to arrive was The Field, Jim Sheridan’s film adaptation of a play I read in high school. It had been a while, so while I remembered the premise, I didn’t recall all of the events that transpired in this tragic tale or I might have shied away. That would have been a shame, though, because I would have missed some gorgeous cinematography and a towering performance by the late Richard Harris.

Harris stars as Bull McCabe, an elderly farmer who has spent his life nurturing a rocky field and coaxing green life out of it. The land is now lush and fruitful, and the weakening Bull wants assurance that his son will carry on the work that he began, so he decides the time has come to persuade its long-widowed owner (Frances Tomelty) to sell it to him.

He succeeds, but the plan backfires; instead of selling directly to the man who has worked the field so long he considers it his, she announces her intention to sell it at public auction, and a wealthy, arrogant American (Tom Berenger) shows up to buy it. What’s worse, he wants to cover it in concrete and turn it into part of a highway system. Is there anything this old man can do to protect the one thing in life he is most passionate about?

Irish farmers take their land very seriously, and Bull’s obsession with the land is all the more intense because of the family history he divulges in one of Harris’s most wrenching moments in the film. This is a quiet movie with little music but plenty to feast the eyes on. Jack Conroy’s capturing of the green rolling hills makes us feel the pain along with Bull at the thought that it could soon be paved over.

The eyes linger over the verdant grass more than they otherwise might because there are stretches of time with no dialogue at all. When Harris does speak, however, he makes an impact, even though you might have to pay extra close attention to catch everything he says with that soft voice and thick brogue. His piercing eyes peer out of a face wreathed in white hair, and when the dormant fire within them sparks into life, it’s an intimidating spectacle.

While Harris is the focal point here, other strong performances bolster his. Sean Bean is surly and near-silent as Tadgh, Bull’s cowed son with a violent streak. With few words, he emphatically demonstrates the depth of the gulf that lies between father and son, as well as the tragic traits that tie them together. As village idiot Bird O’Donnell, John Hurt adds some levity as he disappears into a truly eccentric role, while Sean McGinley’s mostly low-key performance as a stern parish priest deepens the eventual outburst showing the conflict between the clergy and public opinion.

This is an unsettling film that compels us to sympathize with characters while simultaneously disdaining them. Its exploration of the conflict between a tight-knit community and encroaching modernity opens an ethical can of worms as stubbornness and madness lead the key characters in dismal directions. It’s not an uplifting film, to be sure, and it’s a bit on the long side, its lagging pace seeming more egregious as it becomes clearer that the conclusion will hardly be a tranquil one. Nonetheless, this dark drama provides a fine example of Harris’s dramatic heft and of the gorgeous land whose all but inevitable loss drives him to the depths of insanity.

The Irish Rovers Have a Rollicking Time with Drunken Sailor

The Irish Rovers is one of those bands I have truly grown up with. My love of Irish music began with them way back in toddlerhood, and I've seen them in concert three times. Their Tales to Warm Your Mind has a secure spot in my top ten favorite albums ever. While I don't have nearly all of the music they have released, I try to keep up with what they're doing, so when I heard that they had a new CD coming out, I knew I'd need to have a listen.

Drunken Sailor doesn't actually hit shelves until the end of the month, but it's available in MP3 form now, so I decided to go ahead and get it in time for St. Patrick's Day. It's a good album for such a festive occasion; the name reflects the general theme: drunkenness and the sea. For the most part, I would say it's more ribald than most Rovers albums, at least the ones in my collection, with drunken debauchery present in almost every song. Because of this oversaturation of dubious topics, I'm not quite as keen on this album as I am on most. Nonetheless, the musicianship is excellent, and it sure sounds like they're having a lot of fun.

The line-up is mostly different now than it was in the early 1960s, but George Millar is still the bandleader and chief songwriter, crafting many of the songs that appear on the albums and adapting many other traditional favorites. Other members include Wilcil McDowell, longtime accordionist for the group, and husky-voiced balladeer John Reynolds, along with George's cousin Ian Millar, percussionist Fred Graham and vocalist Sean O'Driscoll. Nearly 50 years since its formation, the group continues to provide a rollicking good time for evergreen fans.

The title song here is a familiar one that always goes over well at concerts because it makes such a rousing sing-along. Many of the songs here are similarly rowdy and repetitive, with easy opportunities for listeners to chime in on a key line or two or try to keep up with an ever-lengthening list. Examples of the former include the scatterbrained All For Me Grog, the rascally Across the Western Sea and the wistful Pleasant and Delightful, while Good Luck to the Barleymow and The Dublin Pub Crawl will test your memory of potent potables and promising pubs. My favorite song of this type will probably always be The Rattlin' Bog, but that's not included here. Still, these two make for a fun challenge.

The most blush-worthy of the songs are Wh*res and Hounds, in which a drunken sea dog both laments and celebrates the wild living of his past, and the fast-paced Cruising 'Round Yarmouth, which uses a lot of sailing-related double entendres. The upbeat Trust in Drink, The Jolly Roving Tar, The Good Ship Rover and Dear Ould Ireland are all toasts of sorts, at least on the chorus.

Two of the tracks really stand out from the rest to me. Both are nautical in nature, so they still fit the theme, but one is a low-key, heartfelt lament, while the other is a lengthy ballad recounting an infamous tragedy. Sweet Anne is a mellow, mostly solo song of a sailor caught in a deadly storm expressing his regrets over his leaving his true love. The whistle and mandolin makes this gentle song of separation all the more affecting, and it's probably my favorite on the album.

The real highlight, however, is The Titanic, George Millar's six-and-a-half minute-long ode to the calamity, which happened a hundred years ago in April. It begins with a mournful minute-long rendition of Nearer My God to Thee, which was played on the ship as it was sinking. The song has a nice sea shanty flavor to it as it tells the tale of the ship's construction and the great expectations for its maiden voyage that contributed to its early demise. The chorus is a bit too peppy - and repeated a few too many times - for this to have quite the tragic heft of Gordon Lightfoot's Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, but it's still an effective musical recollection of that calamity with some sobering reflections on its significance, and I suspect that this is the track for which the album will be most readily remembered.

Overall, I would say that I prefer Irish Rovers albums that include more of a mix of song types, with the exception of Tales to Warm Your Mind, of course, which I think of as a concept album aimed as much at children as adults. As a rather straight-laced non-drinker, there are only so many rowdy drinking songs I can take in a row before I need a break. Nonetheless, it's great to see the Rovers still going strong. After all these years, they still know how to turn a song into a party.

Not-So-Merry Men Abound in this VeggieTales Video About Hurt Feelings

What do you do when it feels like you're being neglected and rejected? That's something kids face a lot as those around them misunderstand them or simply aren't attuned to them, and it's the subject of Christian children's company Big Idea's latest computer-animated VeggieTales video, Robin Good and His Not-So-Merry Men.

The video begins, as most do, with a countertop scene. This one finds Larry the Cucumber distraught because his hamster has abandoned him. Meanwhile, Bob the Tomato opens a message from a young viewer who is battling hurt feelings of his own, and he deems it a good time for a couple of stories.

The first tale is fairly short and told all in rhyme, recalling such previous segments as The Story of Flibber-O-Loo and The Snoodle's Tale, but this one is set in a contemporary world rather than a fantastical realm inspired by Dr. Seuss. Junior Asparagus, here a kid named Lenny, is turning eight.  This time, his character has an energetic little sister by the name of Libbie, which amused me since that is the name of one of my best friends. Also amusing me was a random reference to Abraham Lincoln, my favorite president.

Lenny, however, is not amused in this tale, and that's because it seems everyone has forgotten his birthday. He spends the day in an agony of mopeyness waiting for just one person to say something about his special day. What's going on? This is a cute story that contains a sweet song of reassurance by Lenny's mom and a twist at the end that is both fun and educational.

Of course, it's also a bit of a downer for most of it because it's just Lenny feeling sorry for himself and keeping all his angst bottled up. The takeaway message is that even when you're having a terrible day, God is still there for you, and that should bring comfort. However, another message kids might glean is that instead of stewing silently over having been slighted, they should address their problems openly.

Granted, when someone is ignoring your birthday, you don't want to say anything because you hope that eventually, they will remember, and it doesn't really count if you told them. But generally speaking, "failure to communicate" can contribute to all sorts of hurt feelings. As a fundamentally non-confrontational person, this is something I have struggled with myself. Expressing myself openly has never been my strong suit, and as with Junior, that reluctance to speak up has led to unnecessary anxiety and confusion.

The main story is a parody of Robin Hood, territory VeggieTales has touched before in the shorter segment on Minnesota Cuke and the Search for Samson's Hairbrush. However, that was only a brief sojourn. Here we've got a full-blown tale in which Robin Good, played by Larry, leads his band of Not-So-Merry Men by waylaying travelers in the forest and soliciting funds from them to redistribute to the poorest in the kingdom of Bethlingham. When donations run almost dry, his buddies rebel and turn to thievery instead, something Robin refuses to do. He's got scruples, but he's also got a lot of resentment bubbling up inside him. Can he overcome it to help a friend in need? The message here is about the same as in the first, with an added theme that making other people feel better tends to make you feel better yourself.

This is an enjoyable twist on familiar characters. I love the setting, the different take on the usually sinister Sherriff (played here by Bob) and the bits of zany humor, particularly a discussion between Robin and the Sherriff that is reminiscent of Abbott and Costello's "Who's On First?" routine and a series of rather groan-worthy ham puns. The tale includes mostly music along the same lines as Mom Asparagus's lullaby, which is nice, though the one that got my attention the most was the peppy duet between Robin and the corrupt prince, played by frequent antagonist Mr. Nezzer in one of his meaner incarnations. It's a fun and ultimately encouraging story, but again, because we spend so much time with Robin, and later the Sherriff, moping, it's not quite as upbeat as most of these videos tend to be.

Between stories we've got the traditional Silly Song, which is another offering by Boyz in the Sink, the boy band made up of Larry, Junior, Mr. Lunt and Jimmy Gourd. This song has a radio-ready feel to it similar to their previous offerings, a very distinct sound from most of the Silly Songs. What we get is an ode to bubble wrap, an item that just tends to make people grin. Yes, it's good packing material, and they're using it because the band members are getting some fancy new digs and are settling in, but it's best known for just being fun to pop. The novelty never seems to wear off. I actually saw this song quite a while ago, since Big Idea posted it on YouTube well in advance of the video; I like it, and the subject makes me smile, though it hasn't really stuck in my brain the way my favorites like The Hairbrush Song and I Love My Lips have.

All told, it's a solid video, and I think the Robin Hood story makes a great framework. It wasn't really the lesson I would have expected to go with that tale, but it works well. At the same time, the humor isn't quite as pronounced in this video as usual because the main characters spend so much time down in the dumps. The message is also a bit heavy-handed, with the same words about God being bigger than any hurt being repeated multiple times. Still, for children going through that sense of isolation, that might be just the reassurance they need.

Rediscover Classic Fairy Tales With This Classy Collection

“Happily ever after” and “once upon a time” are two of the most iconic phrases in storytelling history thanks in large part to the Brothers Grimm, who so diligently collected and adapted many of the folktales that endure as childhood favorites to this day. Along with many other fans, I am hoping that it will take a long time for Once Upon a Time, the ABC Sunday night drama helmed by LOST scribes Adam Horowitz and Eddie Kitsis, to reach its “happily ever after.” Although I want to see these characters find their happiness, which in most cases seems to include making a seemingly impossible romantic connection, I am in no rush to see this modern take on these ancient stories come to an end.

On my birthday, an episode of Once Upon a Time featuring the beloved story of Beauty and the Beast aired, and I received this collection of fairy tales illustrated by Kevin Tong and published in conjunction with the series. Part of the book’s appeal for fans of the show is its foreword by Horowitz and Kitsis, who share their thoughts on why fairy tales have so thoroughly permeated the public consciousness, what they are trying to accomplish with the show and how LOST helped prepare them for it. I’d read snatches of these ideas before in interviews, but it’s nice to have them all here in a cohesive three-page essay that only increases my already strong faith that these two – whose extensive contribution to LOST includes writing my favorite episode, Dr. Linus – know what they are doing.

Parents considering purchasing this for their kids should be aware that the stories within this collection are direct translations of the original Grimm tales, and they are… well… grim. That isn’t to say that the “good guys” don’t win out – usually – but many of them must endure violent trials in the meantime, to say nothing of the grotesque ends many of the villains meet. Young readers, especially the very sensitive, might be troubled by such story elements as eyes being gouged out by birds, youngsters getting gobbled up by wolves and fathers beheading their own children. Of course, generations of readers grew up with these stories before more sanitized versions became more prevalent.

Brief but memorable, with the longest 15 pages long but most much shorter, these stories mostly felt very familiar to me, though the ones Disney introduced to me had distinct differences from their animated adaptations. For instance, this Cinderella’s father is still alive but does nothing to spare his daughter from her stepfamily’s wickedness, and in the process of trying on the royal shoes, her stepsisters cut off parts of their own feet to make them fit – and the prince can’t even tell that neither is the one he danced with at the ball. In Snow White, the evil queen tricks Snow White several times, and ultimately she is revived not by the prince’s kiss but by being transported by coffin to his palace and coming to when it hits a bump in the road and a bit of poisoned apple dislodges from her throat.

The prince in The Sleeping Beauty does kiss the enchanted princess, but as he was born long after she fell asleep, he has no previous connection with her, nor does he need to fight the wicked enchantress or enlist the aid of the helpful fairies as none of them has a role in the story beyond her fateful birthday. Romance does not come into the stories much despite so many tales including a wedding; with few exceptions, if love occurs, it is at first sight, with no time for the couple to get to know each other, and more often marriage is awarded to a stranger as a prize for completing some heroic task. The strangest example of this is in the closing story, The Frog Prince, in which a frog becomes a prince after the cruel, spoiled child whose toy he rescued throws him against the wall – and then he marries her.

Thematic connections can be found among many of the 30 stories, several of which were unfamiliar to me. Ingenuity, perseverance, kindness to the disenfranchised and loyalty are four virtues that are praised in multiple tales. Humor comes into some of the tales as well, particularly in the stories of Hans in Luck, the world’s most ineffective barterer, and Clever Grethel, whose brilliant manipulation of others’ dialogue reminds me of young Kevin McAllister in Home Alone. Remarkable animals are also common, with my favorite being the wish-granting fish The Fisherman and His Wife, a funny cautionary tale against excessive greed and lack of assertiveness.

Despite the presence of violence in many of the stories, there’s really only one story whose ending I would really classify as unhappy, and it still is happy for one of the characters, just not the one readers might expect. In other cases, the tales proceed with little conflict; the trio of short elf tales toward the end is particularly tranquil.

Adding to my appreciation of this collection are the illustrations by Kevin Tong, which are black and white, with bold silhouettes at the ends of stories and more detailed drawings at the beginning, though only a few tales feature these larger pictures. Even these tend to deal mostly with archetypal figures; for instance, we see Little Red Cap wandering down a path in a woodland landscape inside the shape of a wolf’s head, and the dwarves’ cozy cottage stands inside an outline of Snow White’s silhouette.

You might want to restrict yourself to reading one or two of these stories at a time; it would be easy to stretch the 250-page book out for a month that way, since each is self-contained, and such an approach minimizes the risk of the tales running together in your mind. I only took a week to read it, but I’m sure this is a book whose tales I’ll be returning to, especially as the series progresses. More characters are coming on board all the time, and it’s interesting to compare how those who originated with these tales differ from their prime time counterparts. Of course, this book is limited to stories collected by the German Grimm Brothers, so characters from such tales as the French Beauty and the Beast and the Italian Pinocchio are missing, but many of the show’s denizens can be found within these pages.

All of these stories have a timeless quality about them, and I suspect they will still be enjoyed for many generations. While most of the characters are not terribly complex, they make excellent springboards for creative embroidery by writers like Horowitz and Kitsis. Reading them can easily encourage further creativity, whether it’s by way of crafting new fairy tales, writing about these characters’ other adventures or furnishing illustrations. This book would make a great addition to a classroom shelf, especially for slightly older students who might find the format more appealingly grown-up than the more common picture book-style editions. Kids and adults alike can appreciate these tales, just as television viewers across a spectrum of ages can enjoy the series as a family. I’m so glad that these stories remain such a powerful part of the cultural landscape.