A Hardened Zealot Seeks Meaning in Elizabeth George Speare's The Bronze Bow

The month and a half leading up to Easter, and the last week in particular, are meant to be times of deep contemplation for Christians. Thanks to a most timely recommendation, Elizabeth George Speare’s The Bronze Bow rose to the top of my must-read list this month, giving me a beautiful novel to reflect upon for Holy Week.

Speare has received Newbery recognition for two of her other novels, both of which explore themes of faith, friendship and overcoming one’s prejudices. In this 1962 Newbery Medal-winning book, set near Capernaum of 2000 years ago, Biblical characters weave their way in and out of the story of 18-year-old Israelite Daniel, who has lived for nothing but revenge since his father’s crucifixion a decade earlier. Having exchanged apprenticeship to an abusive blacksmith and a dreary home with a withered grandmother and cowed sister for a bandit’s existence in the nearby mountains, Daniel venerates Rosh, a fierce outlaw he believes will lead an army to rise up against the Roman scum who hold the Jewish people under their sway. On the mountain, he feels a sense of belonging, of purpose, of freedom. But his life is about to change dramatically.

Daniel has been part of this pack for five years, yet he remains an isolated individual, focusing all of his emotional energy on his lust for vengeance. He has no need for friendship, or so believes until he meets twins Joel and Thacia, who come from his town of Ketzah but are relocating to bustling Capernaum. Joel, a rabbi in training, studies the Law intensely but echoes Daniel’s thirst for ridding the land of Romans. Thacia, who shares a deep bond with her brother, is by turns fiery and gentle, and her beauty and bravery flummox the hardened Daniel.

The same day the twins ascend the mountain to gaze over their homeland before their departure, Rosh orders a raid on a caravan. His object? An enormous slave the men laughingly name Samson. Daniel takes charge of him, leading him up the mountain to their camp and using his iron-working skills to remove the chains that confine him. Little does he realize that in so doing, he is binding himself to the seemingly deaf-mute lummox, who thereafter will answer only to him. Samson’s strength makes Daniel’s work in the makeshift forge easier, but it’s uncomfortable for him to feel so tied down to one person. It’s a discomfort he will soon be forced to get used to as his childhood returns to haunt him.

Speare paints a vivid picture of the landscape’s unique sights, sounds and smells, transporting readers to dusty streets and salty shorelines and introducing a people hungry for hope. When they meet again, Daniel, Joel and Thacia take heart in the words of King David, adopting as their mantra, “He trains my hands for war, so that my arms can bend a bow of bronze.” Surely a revolution is coming, and they vow to be ready when it does. But threatening Daniel’s ambitions are the looming reminders of his dying grandmother and his sister Leah, traumatized into apparent madness by the events that lit the fire of vigilantism within Daniel. Can he maintain his distance from his only family for the sake of the cause – especially as doubts about Rosh’s leadership style begin to creep in?

And then there is Jesus. Daniel learns of him from village blacksmith Simon the Zealot. From the moment he first sees him, he is transfixed by his “vital, radiant face, lighted from within by a burning intensity of spirit.” The teacher’s quiet words mesmerize him, but Daniel walks away frustrated. Here is a man who can captivate thousands; each time Daniel goes to see him, the crowd around him seems to expand. An unfathomable power seems to flow from him as he talks of the Kingdom of God. Yet usurping the Romans does not seem to be his agenda. Daniel wonders how a man with such influence can fail to use it for the long-awaited liberation of his people. Or might Jesus offer a different kind of freedom?

First and foremost, this is Daniel’s tale. It is not primarily an account of Christ’s ministry, and Speare sprinkles in encounters with Jesus and his followers, particularly Simon Peter and Andrew, sparingly. The parable of the Good Samaritan, the feeding of the five thousand and the raising of Jairus’s daughter are among the notable Gospel passages that are organically integrated into the story, taking on a renewed potency as seen from the perspective of the teen who just can’t quite make out what this man is all about. Speare keeps dialogue directly involving Jesus to a minimum so that every moment with him feels like a cool drink of water in the midst of a barren landscape of rage and despair.

For nearly a third of his life, Daniel has taken orders from a man who regards compassion as a weakness to be filed away like the heaviest chain conceivable. As new responsibilities take him beyond the mountain and the words of a different kind of leader work their way into his soul, Daniel must carefully consider the true meaning of strength, of courage, of devotion. Is his bond with Samson truly a lamentable burden? Is it frailty to care for his troubled sister, whose sweetness shines out of the shadows just a little more with each passing day? Faced with the prospect of heading up his own faction of revolutionaries, which role model will he follow?

While Speare’s The Sign of the Beaver, which I recently read for the first time, has a straightforward simplicity to it, this novel is considerably longer and more complex, with more characters to keep track of and more twists and turns, not to mention the expert way in which Speare intermingles Daniel’s story with Gospel accounts. Each of the major characters has hopes and aspirations that are tested at various points, but their gravest challenges often come in quiet moments. Despite Daniel’s readiness for a violent uprising, his most grueling battle is internal as he struggles under the weight of a torment that only one person truly seems to understand.

I’m glad that this was the week I read The Bronze Bow. Through the stormy eyes of Speare’s passionate protagonist, I gained a fresh appreciation for what those days must have been like and the soft but forceful ways in which Jesus impacted the lives of those around him. When Daniel and his twin friends first read the psalm that will be such a source of inspiration to them, Thacia speculates that David means “that when God strengthens us we can do something that seems impossible.” Daniel’s own impossible feat is both simpler and more daunting than he ever could have imagined. He cannot do it alone. Neither can we.

Twas the Night Before Easter Retreads The Star of Christmas

It took VeggieTales, the popular Christian series of computer-animated videos, more than a decade to come out with a tale dealing with Easter. Seven years later, they tackle the all-important holiday again with ’Twas the Night Before Easter. I presume that the main reason they went with that title was because the first Easter video, An Easter Carol, is so clearly modeled after A Christmas Carol. But VeggieTales already has four Christmas videos, not to mention a couple of Christmas albums; bringing hints of Christmas into this second Easter story seems a little excessive.

An Easter Carol is a sequel to The Star of Christmas, the Victorian-era Christmas special that ushered in a new, more cinematic approach to Veggie videos. ’Twas the Night Before Easter includes counter-top scenes at the beginning and end and a silly song in the middle, elements missing from those videos, and the setting is modern-day, but what it mostly feels like to me is a retread of The Star of Christmas. It’s in many ways the same story plucked down in a different setting.

Our main character this time around is Marlee, played by Petunia, the rhubarb who has become quite the leading lady of late. As usual, her character enjoys a close friendship with a decent chap portrayed by Larry the Cucumber. Here, she’s a news reporter and he’s her cameraman, but she decides to abandon her job and make a fresh start as a theater producer in hopes of saving the derelict little theater nestled next to the town’s homeless shelter, and her right-hand man soon follows, offering his services as a songwriter. As in Star, then, Larry’s character spends much of the video puzzling over lyrics and trying to write a hit.

Marlee wants to put on a splashy musical because she believes in the power of theater to change lives. Well-to-do Prescott E. Huddlecoat, portrayed by uptight British asparagus Archibald, has plans to tear down the theater and build a playground in its place, but he agrees to offer a reprieve if Marlee can prove that the theater will be profitable. Her enthusiasm knows no bounds, but she’s not too thrilled with her crop of aspiring performers. What she needs is a real star. The good news is that her town has one. The bad news is that she’s booked. Can Marlee convince her to take part in her show the night before Easter when she has to be up early to sing at the sunrise service the next morning?

Like Star, this video involves a lavish and silly theatrical production competing with a humble church service expected to draw a big crowd because of an unusual component. It includes a wacky inventor whose crazy contraption gets the main characters to the church in time for said service. Even though it’s Easter, it’s snowing like crazy, so it looks more like Christmas (not that I haven’t experienced a white Easter or two in my time). Other recycled elements include a theater in flames and a scene of helping the disenfranchised – in prison in Star, in a homeless shelter in this. It’s still entertaining, but there definitely seems to be a certain lack of originality at play here.

The overall tone of the video is fun and chaotic, with lots of zany action and an extended spoof on American Idol and America’s Got Talent in the form of references to a show called America’s Got British Judges, as well as the largely disastrous auditions. The American Idol theme is a retread, too, from the album The Incredible Singing Christmas Tree, though Archibald is the only one of the three judges who participates in both, and my guess is that many people who watch the videos haven’t heard the CDs. I’ll admit I’m one of those folks who’s followed those shows, especially American Idol, fairly faithfully. Hence, these jokes did get a smile out of me, especially when I realized that the big star in question, Cassie Cassava, is voiced by Melinda Doolittle, my favorite contestant from American Idol’s sixth season. Still, it contributes to the general silliness of the episode that is so pervasive, the message almost gets lost in the shuffle.

The Silly Song – or, more accurately, the Latest Dance Craze – has a superficial Easter connection in that the French peas who lead the segment don bunny slippers and ears for the Hoparena. This is a rather frenzied number that reminds me I need to pull out my VeggieTales dance party videogame again, and it’s fun to see Archibald get a little goofy for a change. Still, I wouldn’t rank it very high on my list of favorite Silly Songs; it’s another one that is entertaining to watch but not very sing-along-able. And it’s another part of the episode in which bunnies predominate. They’re almost as omnipresent here as in Rack, Shack and Benny, which is set in a chocolate bunny factory – and we even hear a snippet of the notorious Bunny Song. We have lots of references to eggs and jelly beans, too.

While An Easter Carol is one of the most serious episodes in the Veggie line, this is one of the silliest, and while we do get to see part of an Easter service – and hear not only the big anthem with Cassie but a traditional hymn that has been part of most Easter services I’ve attended – the balance seems off. Additionally, while I applaud the call to serve others as Jesus served, I’m not sure an Easter video is the best occasion for that focus. It seems to be almost glossing over what Jesus did do to rush ahead into what Jesus would do.

I still enjoyed the video, and longtime fans will have fun picking up on allusions to past episodes as well as noting pop culture nods. But there’s a difference between dropping a reference and recycling your own plotline, and most longtime fans will probably pick up on that too, and they’ll also realize that this isn’t the best Easter special VeggieTales has to offer.

Ebenezer Bunny Gets a New Shot at Easter in Springtime With Roo

I recently reinstated my Netflix account, taking it off hold in anticipation of renting a plethora of Christmas movies to help get me in the holiday spirit. But I haven’t gotten around to updating my queue, so the first few movies have been surprises to me. I had to laugh at the seasonally inappropriate nature of my latest selection when I spotted the title Springtime With Roo. However, while the movie, with its array of Technicolor flowers and its emphasis on Easter, is thoroughly rooted in spring, except for the puzzling appearance of a wheelbarrow full of pumpkins, I discovered that it wasn’t such an oddball choice for the Christmas season after all.

Springtime With Roo, like most Winnie-the-Pooh movies, is on the short side. Clocking in at just about an hour, this direct-to-video release begins with a hyper Roo (Jimmy Bennett) disturbing the tranquil opening narration of David Ogden Stiers, who explains that the young joey will be the subject of this particular tale. To some extent that’s true, though the movie is just as much about Rabbit (Ken Sansom), who sets the main conflict in motion when he shatters his friends’ anticipation over the annual Easter egg hunt by declaring it Spring Cleaning Day instead. It soon becomes clear that Rabbit no longer considers Easter an acceptable holiday, and while Roo is disappointed to be missing out on so much fun, his biggest concern is his friend’s unhappiness.

It took me a while to cotton on to this, but Springtime With Roo, much like Veggie Tales’ An Easter Carol, is an adaptation of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. Persnickety Rabbit is an ideal choice to play the role of curmudgeonly old codger; he’s as much a neat freak as Scrooge is a miser, and at his worst, he can be quite the misanthrope. Owl might have been a good choice too, but he doesn’t make an appearance in this video, nor does Christopher Robin. Gopher isn’t in the main feature but does turn up, in typical pyro mode, in the New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh episode Trap as Trap Can, which follows Hunny for a Bunny in the Special Features.

Though the nods to the original story are not as plenteous as they could be, Roo is an excellent stand-in for Tiny Tim, while Tigger (Jim Cummings) exudes a Fred-like joie de vivre. Meanwhile, the narrator, with some help from the storybook and Tigger, provides the proper ghostly framework. The tale’s inspiration is most obvious toward the end, when Rabbit repents, first distraught over his friendless future, then “giddy as a school bunny” that he’s been given a second chance. At this point, if anyone still hasn’t gotten the reference, Tigger, with a broad wink at the viewers, demands, “What the Dickens - and I do mean Dickens - is going on here?”

Tigger gets all the best lines in this flick, with energetic bursts of jibberish that lead to him uttering one of my favorite words: onomatopoeia! Equally random: at one point, while showing Roo all of his Easter gear, Tigger accidentally unearths a dreidel. “Whoops, wrong holiday!” he amends. He also gets to sing a couple of short songs, as do most of the main characters. Eeyore (Peter Cullen) doesn’t have any songs to himself, but his fondness for a pair of fluffy bunny ears is good for a lot of laughs. While none of the musical numbers are still rattling around in my head, they’re fun in context.

Among the Special Features, the First Look at The Magical World of Winnie the Pooh is most worth perusing. What it amounts to is two episodes of the aforementioned series; Magical World was evidently the name of a set of DVDs containing episodes from the show. The first, in which Rabbit decides to give away his beloved bunny bookend because he believes he will never find its mate, fits particularly well with the movie, while the second is a fun romp involving a scrawny heffalump and his burly, heavily allergic father.

Sounds of Spring features three clickable scenes; click on the arrow pointing to an object and hear a corresponding noise. This activity is rather fun, but Decorate Rabbit’s House is annoying, since it is constantly correcting the improper placement of decorations. After a movie in which Rabbit’s fastidiousness proves to be problematic, it seems to go against message to insist decorations go in one particular spot when they would look just as good someplace else. Another feature includes step-by-step instructions for making a sort of butterfly puppet that looks neat but seems like it would fall apart easily. The rest of the features are DVD registration and a preview for Pooh’s Heffalump Movie.

Even though Springtime for Roo is an Easter story, its Dickensian nature renders it a suitable choice for this time of year, since it’s fun to compare it to the oodles of other versions of A Christmas Carol floating around. I’m still waiting for Eeyore to get a centric Pooh movie, but I have no complaints about this outing with Rabbit and Roo.

It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown Leaves a Bit to Be Desired

In honor of National Poetry Month, I'm writing a few reviews in rhyme this April. Here's my take on It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown, a Peanuts special from the 70s that is amusing but doesn't quite do justice to the holiday. I was similarly disappointed with the Peanuts Thanksgiving special; maybe Peppermint Patty and Marcie are to blame...

It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown

I know that when the holidays come 'round,
A Peanuts special likely will appear.
I've come to count on good ol' Charlie Brown
Delivering a dose of Christmas cheer,
And Halloween just wouldn't be the same
If Linus didn't haunt that pumpkin patch.
So Charles Schulz's genius is to blame
If each one is a show I want to catch.

In It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown,
The unifying theme is not as strong.
We see the buddies venture into town,
Where money-toting Snoopy tags along
To buy a birdhouse for his feathered pal,
Whose luck with homes is Eeyorishly poor.
As Patty and the glasses-wearing gal,
Who's shockingly unversed in Easter lore,
Attempt to boil and color a few eggs,
Resilient Linus bends young Sally's ear
About the Easter Beagle, and he begs
A second chance to prove he is sincere.

An Easter Beagle? Hm, I wonder who
Could frolic merrily onto the scene,
Convincing Linus his beliefs are true?
And how is it that Marcie is so green
She absolutely cannot comprehend
That hard-boiled eggs are neither fried nor cooked?
Does Patty ever think to show her friend
The process Marcie somehow overlooked?

The special is all silly slapstick stuff.
It doesn't mention any empty tomb.
If all you're seeking is a bit of fluff,
Then it's a yummy goodie to consume.
But is it up to standard? No, not quite.
It's not profound. The plot's a little thin.
The members of the voice cast don't sound right.
And in the end, poor Charlie still can't win.

The characters? Inarguably great.
The music? Peppy. Animation? Fun.
But if you want the best installment, wait
Till Christmas; this is clearly not the one.

Compassion Compels Cusick's Christ in The Gospel of John

Back in 2004, I debated whether I would be shirking my duty as a Christian filmgoer if I failed to attend a showing of Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ. While I applauded Gibson's determination to craft a film that conveys the extent of Christ's sacrifice, I just didn't think I could stomach watching Jesus take an R-rated beating for three hours, so I passed, though I observed the furor with interest. While articles weighing in on the movie flooded the papers, a quieter film slipped in, scarcely noticed as it stood in the shadow of this long-anticipated epic. What little I read about Philip Saville's The Gospel of John spoke of it favorably enough to pique my interest, but if it ever landed at theaters in Erie, I missed it, and soon I'd forgotten it entirely.

Then, earlier this year, I was visiting the MySpace page of a particularly ardent fan of LOST's Desmond when I saw several stills from The Gospel of John featuring a strangely familiar-looking Jesus. I crinkled my forehead, registering the connection, and rushed to imdb to confirm it. Sure enough, right there on the cast list was Henry Ian Cusick, whose name wouldn't have made a blip on my radar screen in early 2004. Three years later, it was enough to compel me to rent the movie.

Christopher Plummer as the narrator sweetened the deal, as did the PG-13 rating, which promised nothing so graphic as what The Passion had to offer. This week, I returned from the video store toting The Gospel of John, which an employee found for us in the special interest section after our own search yielded nothing. I popped it into the player with some trepidation, knowing I would view the movie differently now than if I'd seen it in the theater. Now I had Desmond clouding my vision, so I feared for my decorum and hoped that at least Cusick would not sound Scottish.

Helpfully, he employs a rather generic "Biblically British" accent, which is distinct enough from his natural speaking voice that if I'd been listening without the visual, I might not have made the connection. That's offset by the fact that in most of his appearances on LOST, Cusick, sporting only slightly less shaggy hair, looks very much like he does here; given the reluctantly messianic role the enigmatic hatch inhabitant has played since the season two finale, I wonder if Damon Lindelof and the gang were hoping some people would make the connection. That reluctance is all but absent in Cusick's performance as Christ. Though hesitation briefly flickers across His features as the crucifixion looms, throughout the bulk of the film there's a profound serenity about Him as He goes about his work, never in doubt as to the path He must follow.

Yet this is a very human Jesus, and there is scarcely a moment on screen when He is not reaching out a hand to comfort or gazing steadily into the eyes of an outcast in an expression brimming with both compassion and challenge. And He smiles, displaying more of his gleaming teeth in three hours than the generally morose Desmond has in two seasons. He exudes genuine joy as he proclaims, "I am the bread of life!" and shoulder-squeezing camaraderie as He selects His startled apostles. There's even laughter, as when He chuckles at Peter's zealous reversal from refusing to have his feet washed to requesting that Jesus also bathe his hands and head. Rage against the hypocrisy of the Pharisees is underplayed, as grimacing diatribes give way to pleas for comprehension.

John Goldsmith's screenplay is taken directly from the Good News version of the fourth Gospel, making this an ideal dramatization to show in church study groups. Because the Good News translation is more noted for readability than poeticism, Goldsmith may have missed an opportunity for some more artful wording, but I suppose he wanted to ensure that the film would be as accessible as possible. As it is, most of the narration is pleasing and the dialogue natural, with the exception of Jesus' repeated exclamation of "I am telling you the truth!" Although I long ago got used to the fourth Gospel's abundant use of the phrase "Truly, truly I say to you," that introductory clause is not nearly so conspicuous as the stand-alone sentence, which smacks slightly of desperation, as though Jesus constantly feels the need to assure His followers that He is not lying to them.

It becomes a catch phrase to listen for, much like the word "brother" from Desmond, showing up mostly in long-winded speeches, some of which are complemented by sepia-tone flashbacks in order add more visual interest. It's in quieter moments when we get the best sense of Jesus, as when He casually converses with the embittered woman at the well, offering her the water of life, or when, after softly suggesting that those without sin cast the first stone, He waits for the angry mob to dissipate before forgiving the adulteress and gently exhorting her to sin no more.

It's hard to say whether we hear more of Cusick or Plummer. There's very little dead silence in this film; if a character isn't speaking, the narrator is, with a warm, rumbling tone to his voice that reflects his reverence for the project, which he expresses in one of the special features, as does Cusick, who explains that he tried to portray the Christ he grew up with. The only times the narration feels awkward are when Plummer explains something that was just said and then states, "This is why he said..." before repeating the line. It doesn't happen very many times, but there's a sense of superfluity to it that could have been avoided with the snipping of a few sentences. While Plummer usually isn't an interfering presence in the midst of dialogue, he is most effective in lengthy voice-overs accompanied by Miroslaw Baszak's stirring cinematography, which captures the excitement Jesus generates and the beauty of the natural world, even in the midst of dusty expanse. Especially impressive is the scene in which Jesus walks on the water toward his fishing disciples, the tumultuous storm around him subsiding with each step.

None of the actors from the extensive supporting cast are familiar to me, and there's the usual trouble of keeping the robed and bearded apostles straight when they are rarely directly addressed as individuals. Doe-eyed Stuart Bunce is charming as the devoted John, upon whom the camera lingers last before the credits roll, while Daniel Kash strikes just the right chord as bumbling Peter. The inclusion of Thomas' (Andy Velasquez) proposal to follow Jesus to Jerusalem and die with Him there provides some vindication for the much-maligned doubting disciple, whose reunion with Jesus is among the most touching moments in the film, while Alan Van Sprang's Judas is as shifty as I've ever seen him.

Stephen Russell's Pontius Pilate is initially formidable but increasingly faltering as he runs out of options in attempting to spare Jesus an unwarranted execution, while Diego Matamoros portrays Nicodemus as a man of wisdom and courage who stands up to his fellow authorities after becoming convinced of Jesus' divinity. Other standouts include Lynsey Baxter as Mary Magdalene, Stuart Fox as the man to whom Jesus restores sight, Miriam Brown as Martha and Scott Handy as John the Baptist.

For those intimidated by the film's three-hour length, the two-disc DVD includes a two-hour-long version, but I'd recommend the theatrical cut, which remains engaging to the ending that comes a solid ten minutes or so after the risen Christ's first appearance. The trial and crucifixion are not skimmed over, but we see the gruesome flogging only in shadow, and the nailing to the cross occurs off-screen, so the violence is kept to a minimum. Rather than emphasizing the agony of those scenes, the focus is on the "good news" inherent in the ordinary, extraordinary person of Jesus, "the resurrection and the life." Embrace it.

A Very Veggie Easter with a Dickensian Twist

When I returned to work in Waldenbooks last month, one of the first things I noticed was a prominently displayed storybook based on the latest VeggieTales offering, An Easter Carol. I’d never heard about this video, but I knew I’d have to pick it up soon. So yesterday I went out and purchased the latest addition to my VeggieTales library, along with The Wonderful World of Auto-Tainment, which I somehow never picked up when it was released last year. My VeggieTales collecting has been somewhat lacking lately; I also failed to buy The Star of Christmas, the precursor to this video, when it first came out, and have since only been able to find it at Tops, inexplicably packaged with an AOL free trial CD. I did, however, see it on PBS on Christmas Eve the year it came out, so I had been introduced to the characters and setting which were revisited in An Easter Carol.

Like its companion Christmas special, this latest offering clocks in at about 45 minutes and features a cast of Victorian characters including Millward Phelps (Larry the Cucumber) and Cavis Appythart (Bob the Tomato), Pastor Gilbert and his wife and son Edmund (Dad, Mom, and Junior Asparagus), and featured character, Mr. Ebenezer Nezzer. The first time Mr. Nezzer showed up in a VeggieTales video, it was as the crazed boss of a chocolate bunny-making factory. His role here is similar, but this time it’s plastic eggs that he produces – though chocolate bunnies do figure into his plan for Easterland, a grand attraction which will replace the old church that has been a town fixture since before he was born. Although Mr. Nezzer’s beloved grandmother tried to teach him about the joy of Easter, he missed the point. Now it’s up to an angel named Hope (voiced by Grammy award-winning singer Rebecca St. James) to enlighten him.

The story is based on Charles Dickens’ classic A Christmas Carol, with Nezzer occupying the role of Scrooge and little Edmund becoming Tiny Tim. Nezzer is not quite so misanthropic as that other Ebenezer; everything he does is out of a desire to carry out the wishes of his dearly departed grandmother. Still, he is rather self-serving and egotistical, and certainly not too bright. His grandmother informs him of the error of his ways in a vision, leaping eerily out of her portrait on the wall to chide him for his Caesar-like failure to listen to her warnings. But she leaves the bulk of the instruction to Hope, a sprightly, sarcastic entity whose frustration with the old miser knows no bounds. She shows him an Easter service from his childhood, a recent meeting with an oddball inventor (Pa Grape) regarding his grand Easter ambitions (expressed through an entertaining ditty parodying The Music Man’s Rock Island), the current day at the Gilbert household, and, after a song chronicling the life of Jesus, a glimpse of the future without the hope of Easter. Like Scrooge, he is left profoundly changed by the vision, and the rest of the video involves his efforts to save the church from the construction crews under his command and avert a disaster back at the factory.

The VeggieTales gang has been venturing lately into different formats, abandoning such standbys as the countertop lessons and Silly Songs with Larry in favor of a more cinematic approach. While I enjoy the efforts and the massive attention to detail found in the costumes and settings, I think my favorite videos will always be the ones that contain these elements. There’s plenty of music here, but most of the songs are rather serious and the closest thing to a Silly Song, Nezzer’s rhythmic banter with the inventor, seems pretty hard to sing along with. I didn’t walk away from the video humming anything, as I often do with VeggieTales. The overall tone was more serious than most, and it was definitely more preachy than videos in this series generally are. In addition, I confess I found the much-hyped Hope rather annoying; her attitude seemed a bit caustic to me, and her accent struck me as inconsistent at times. (Interestingly, although this takes place in London, only about half of the characters have British voices; I guess it’s too complicated to give an already invented voice an accent.)

Those quibbles aside, this is nonetheless a solid production and a welcome addition to the VeggieTales line. It’s about time they had an Easter video, and the silly antics of Cavis and Millward provide plenty of levity to balance the serious message. Although it isn’t necessary to see The Star of Christmas prior to this, I would recommend it, as that video provides an introduction to the characters and contains events which are referred to in An Easter Carol. It’s a little late to stick this in an Easter basket this year, but the story is one to be appreciated all year long.

A Musical Journey Through the Life of Jesus

When I was in second grade, my uncle first introduced my dad to Michael Card with The Life. He proceeded to play it prolifically, and I soon fell in love with collection of spiritually stirring songs, to the point that I was scrupulously transcribing the lyrics into my notebook so I could carry them around with me all day. This was only the first of many albums which we would purchase. Additionally, my dad went on to get me two piano books -- one of which was for this album -- and to purchase several of Card's books. He even devoted a Bible study series to Card's music.

I continue to regard Michael Card as one of the most talented composers and poets I have encountered, not to mention a very powerful example of a Christian witness. In this album, Card chronicles the life of Jesus (hence the title), from before He was born until after He ascended. The two-disc album covers a variety of musical styles ranging from meditative to joyful to harsh to gentle. Each song is masterfully crafted, and it's a shame they don't get more air time. Admittedly, I more frequently listen to classic rock or oldies stations on the radio, but I've spent enough time on Christian radio stations to know I'm much more likely to hear Michael W. Smith, Jars of Clay, or DC Talk. And I don't think I've ever heard one of the songs from this album on the radio.

The album begins with Overture to the Trilogy, a long instrumental piece incorporating the melodies of several songs on the album and ending with Card cantoring the first lines of John a capella. "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. And the Word became flesh (and the word became flesh) and dwelt among us." This segues directly into The Promise, a quiet tune about how Jesus was not what anyone expected. "The Promise showed their wildest dreams had simply not been wild enough."

Immanuel is a very long song, and one of Michael Card's most famous. While The Promise is more guitar-intensive, Immanuel leans heavily on strings to give the richest possible flavor to the message "our God is with us, and if God is with us, who can stand against us?". Also contains a classic example of Card's love affair with alliteration when he describes Jesus as "a human baby bearing undiminished deity".

Carmen Christi, To the Mystery and The Final Word all are pretty upbeat, dealing alternatively with the nature of Christ and our response to it. While To the Mystery acknowledges our inability to fully grasp who Jesus is, instructing us to "give up on (y)our pondering and fall down on (y)our knees", the others shed light on who Jesus is. "At Jesus' name every knee shall bow in Heaven and in all the Earth. To the Father's glory, each tongue cry 'Jesus is Lord'..." (Carmen Christi) "He spoke the incarnation and then so was born the Son. His Final Word was Jesus, he needed no other one." (The Final Word).

Spirit of the Age is one of the harsh ones, warning against the force of evil which seeks to draw us in. This song matches the mood of the final three selections, Scandalon, describing Jesus in prophecy as "the truth who will offend us one and all, a stone to make them stumble and a rock to make them fall", What Will it Take to Keep You from Jesus, which answers its question with "a simple excuse from a heart that is hard, a reason that's nothing at all", and The Lamb is a Lion, which shows God "roaring with rage at the empty religion that's filling His days".

Celebrate the Child, which follows Spirit of the Age, jubilantly proclaims the arrival of the savior who will bring the world out of darkness into light. Joseph's Song is a beautiful meditation sung in the person of Joseph, who wonders "how can a man be father to the son of God?". Jesus Let us Come to Know You is a simple but lovely lullaby expressing a desire to know Jesus as fully as possible.

Meditation/Baptism is the last track on this disc before the aforementioned three. This, like the album's first track, is instrumental, and it also refers to other songs on the album.

The second disc is concerned primarily with Jesus' ministry, death, and resurrection. The Wedding recalls the miracle of changing the water into wine at Cana while also working in a contemporary context, inviting Jesus to be present at the ceremony which signals the start of a new life for both man and wife. "Lord of Light, please come to this wedding. Chase the doubt and darkness away. Turn the water of lifeless living to the wine of gladness we pray."

The Nazarene is a fairly simple song which demonstrates how human Jesus was despite -- or because of -- his divinity. "The fact of his humanity was there for all to see, for He was unlike any other man and yet so much like me." The Gentle Healer is perhaps the simplest song on the album, and certainly very gentle. Sung in a cappela, it shows how the perceptions of His followers changed from their initial characterization of Him as a "gentle healer" to their ultimate conclusion that He is "the Truth, the Light, the Way".

Forgiving Eyes, is a gorgeous song for the piano whose verses start out despairing but eventually swell into the hopeful chorus, signalled by a key change. It is sung from the perspective of the woman about to be stoned for adultery when Jesus interceded. "Just when I saw Him, the hope I had lost became born again. I was not hopeless. Though I'd been lost, now I felt I was found when He looked at me with those forgiving eyes."

God's Own Fool is likewise an excellent piece for the piano, and it introduces one of Card's favorite themes: paradox. Additionally, it is one of the few songs in his repertoire which Card sings falsetto. I can, in fact, only think of one other instance, though there may be more. The song weighs the way Jesus must have appeared to His worldly contemporaries against His divine reality, encouraging us to embrace the latter. "So we follow God's own fool that only the foolish can tell. Believe the unbelievable; come be a fool as well."

Why employs the classic question-and-answer song format to demand why Jesus had to go through what He did, from the betrayal by his friend to the thorns to the cross. Each response provides an eloquent and convincing reason, culminating in the notion that "Jesus had come into the world to steal every heart away".

Known by the Scars and Traitor's Look are both pretty intense. The former refers to Jesus' appearance before the apostles and His method of convincing Thomas of His true identity. The latter is a diatribe against Judas which ends in the startling confession that many of us have betrayed Jesus ourselves in our ordinary lives.

Ride on to Die and In the Garden are the most mournful songs on this album. The first sees past the jubilation of the moment (Palm Sunday) to the agony that will follow, while the second hints at the jubilation that will follow the current agony in the garden of Gethsemane.

Come to the Table is neither gloomy nor harsh, but it encourages Jesus' apostles to savor this Last Supper together, warning that "the One who is breaking the bread soon will be broken". Cross of Glory progresses to the scene of Jesus death, noting with increasing joy the significance of His sacrifice.

Finally, He Was Heard, Crown Him, and Joy in the Journey are all triumphant in their own right, jubilantly acknowledging that Christ has won the victory. Crown Him is the most exuberant of the three, while Joy in the Journey, which concludes the album, is soothing and reflective, remarking on the happiness inherent in a life lived with the Lord.

Quite an impressive undertaking, not only for Card but for the listeners as well. Card's compositions challenge us to think more deeply about our faith and the events of scripture, encouraging us to visit our Bibles often. Other albums contain songs about the life of Jesus, particularly his Christmas albums, and Card has also extensively covered portions of the Hebrew Scriptures and of Revelation and Hebrews, not to mention some songs which are not taken directly from scripture. But I consider this the most essential of his albums. Start with The Life, and let the music continue to impact your own life.

Glenn Carter Shines as Jesus, But Not Brightly Enough to Save Superstar

I have always been a big fan of Jesus Christ Superstar, particularly of the songs themselves. I was privileged to see the show once in a local production, which was most impressive as I recall. Shortly thereafter, we purchased the 1973 Norman Jewison film. I was less impressed with this version. Although it had the advantage of being filmed on location, that vast expanse was often ill-suited to the style of the movie. I also was a bit turned-off by some of the extremely anachronistic touches, such as the tanks and B2 bombers stalking Judas and the disciples in hippie regalia. And because most of the performers were rock stars and not actors, the lack of skill in the latter area was sometimes apparent. Nonetheless, it has been a video that we pull out every year at Easter and watch.

Last year, I watched Joseph and the Amazing Techni-color Dreamcoat on PBS, and after the show I got a glimpse of several clips of the new production of JCS which would be coming out shortly on video. I'm not sure why I held such high hopes for this remake. Perhaps it was my immense satisfaction with the same company's production of Joseph. Perhaps it was my immediate attraction to Glenn Carter. Or perhaps it was just wishful thinking. At any rate, I became convinced that WHYY's offering would turn out to be the perfect performance of Jesus Christ Superstar. I'm afraid that the reality fell short of expectations.

You see, I held out hope that this movie would "get right what the first one got wrong", at least in my opinion. First of all, there was the cinematography. I would say that this aspect of the new version was handled quite well, and it would have made for a more watchable film than the first if it had not been for the choice of setting and costumes.

Most of the film took place in a large room which served a variety of purposes, from Heaven on their Minds to Gethsemane. There was no Judas running frantically down the cliffs of the desert or Jesus scaling the heights of the garden hills to make his plea more audible. It was just a big room. Then there was the long wall covered with graffiti, which we see as the film first begins. There's the temple, which looks like a casino/strip joint, and there's the hang-out of the Sanhedrin, which is centered around a long black table.

The costumes were certainly not biblical. Jesus' disciples all looked like a bunch of punk rockers, and Judas, the oldest of the bunch by far, was similarly decked out in jeans, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket. Mary Magdalene wore a red dress, and Jesus wore jeans and a white shirt, later a white robe. The high priests all looked like something out of The Matrix, and the members of the media, also dressed all in black, resembled witches. The people who cry out to Jesus for help are dressed similarly but covered with web-like bandages, looking like death itself. Finally, the Roman officials, Pilate in particular, look to me like members of the gestapo. I really didn't get much out of the attempt to put this in a modern setting; I saw Godspell, and that was one of my major complaints as well. They're trying to make this story happen 2000 years ago and today, both at the same time. I don't think it works very well.

But now to the meat of the movie. The characters are all well done, though I prefer the characterizations in the first film to some of these. Jerome Pradon does a fine job as presenting Judas as a conflicted individual, though his vocal talents and energy don't come close to matching those of Carl Anderson in the first film. He's also not as easy to like as that first Judas. From the beginning, he seems beady-eyed, sinister, and sarcastic. Throughout the film, his face contorts to show his affection for Jesus despite his growing frustration, and when he turns Jesus in he is overwhelmed with guilt.

Judas is undeniably Superstar's hero in the Greek sense of the word, meaning the individual who undergoes the most radical change from beginning to end. But this production messes it up. Judas has just become so crippled by his own guilt, so remorseful, that he hangs himself. But shortly thereafter, as Jesus is preparing to carry his cross to Calvary, Judas, along with a herum of leather-clad floozies, takes the opportunity to stand over Jesus and gloat. He seems to be saying, "Ha-ha, Jesus, you're so stupid," and Jesus just remains hunched over under his cross, a grotesque ezpression of agony on his face. It's my least favorite scene in the film. Nobody seems to be rooting for Jesus here; the "angels" in leather bikinis are as sarcastic and cruel as Judas' demon girls. And if Judas is talking to Jesus right before the crucifixion, in some sort of vision or something, how is he talking about the current day? It just doesn't jive. And then, as soon as Jesus makes his journey to the hill, Judas sobers up and goes back to being remorseful. That whole scene just blew Judas' credibility out of the water, and it removed the one indication of resurrection that existed in the first film. I was, quite frankly, disgusted, but it set up an expectation that they were going ot give us one doozy of a finale, a real resurrection that would leave no doubt as to Jesus' triumph and perhaps bring poor old Judas some peace. But that didn't happen either. I waited in vain. The closest the movie came to anything like that was the blinding cross in bright lights that blazed behind Jesus at the moment of his death. That certainly spoke of the supernatural, but it wasn't enough to satisfy me.

Glenn Carter was much more satisfactory than Pradon. Although I am pretty sure Jesus was not that gorgeous -- it just didn't seem to be his style -- Carter did a very convincing job. He has a heavenly voice, and his heart-felt rendition of Gethsemane was for me the most moving portion of the movie. His Jesus is straight out of Luke, and then some. His most striking attribute is the concern and compassion he has for everyone he meets, from the dying multitude to Judas to Pilate. Carter displays a wide range of passionate emotions, and it was much easier for me to connect with him quickly than was the case with Ted Neeley in the first film. At times, he is perhaps a bit too human. He spends the last scenes of the movie with a permanent agonized expression on his face, submitting himself to the whims of those who try to hurt him. It does give him a quiet authority, however. He refuses to fight back because he knows this is what must happen. Somehow, though, he seems to lose his control with Superstar, and it seems that he now is starting to wish he could get out of this. He appears helpless and terrified. He is a victim, not a triumph. And I'm sure Weber and Rice would have had it no other way. But Christians will have to look especially hard to see the determined savior in the eyes of that frightened deer-in-the-headlights.

Rene Castle as Mary Magdalene is excellent as well. Her voice is incredible, and as with Jesus, she plays her part with much more emotion than her predecessor (Yvonne Elliman) did. Unfortunately, her beautiful characterization takes one of the major complaints with the show by Christians and runs with it. Many Christians have been offended by the implication that there may have been a romance between Jesus and Mary. I simply did not see that in the first film. I saw a woman who loved a man who was different from any other man she had ever known. Because of this, she did not know how she was supposed to love him. Jesus' love for her was simply the love he had for any disciple, and I never got the impression that he was romantically inclined toward her. This film came a lot closer to implying that. Every time Jesus is with Mary, he has this rapturous expression on his face, and it is ultimately a confrontation between Judas and Jesus after Judas sees Mary kiss the sleeping savior that makes Judas decide to betray his friend.

The high priests are definitely sinister, but Annas goes far beyond that. He is downright creepy with his bald head, high voice, and cold eyes. Pilate, meanwhile, who was quite honestly my favorite character in the first film when it came to performance, comes across as a vicious gestapo leader here. He does sympathize with Jesus, and there is one touching moment in the trial when Jesus reaches up to comfort him, but overall I found his bellowing more obnoxious than anything else. In the original producation, Barry Dennen made Pilate extremely likable, pitiable and compassionate. I found his scene with Jesus to be the most moving scene in the whole film. This guy doesn't even come close.

And then there's Herod. I think whoever plays him is going to wind up looking like a fruitcake. The first movie's Herod at least tried to sing, even though his voice was pretty bare of talent. This guy, a British fellow who sounded like he had a stuffy nose and seemed to come straight out of the twenties, spent most of his song chanting instead of singing. He was not nearly as amusing as the first, nor was he menacing. He was just...there.

All in all, I must say that I was disappointed with this film. However, magnificent performances of Jesus and Mary as well as a few others (Simon Zealotes and Peter in particular) make it worth watching. The music is as fantastic as it ever was, and as easy to twist around to imply something different. This play can be very reverent, but this was obviously not the intent of the creators. Watch it if you get a chance, but listen to the soundtrack first and work out the rest of the story as you see it on your own. Because Jesus was more of a Superstar than either Webber or Rice could ever imagine.

Love Makes You Real

A story that has been treasured for years, this gentle tale will most certainly be enjoyed for many years to come. Often found among the Easter books when the holiday rolls around because the main character is a rabbit, The Velveteen Rabbit is all the more appropriately placed because it tells how love gives new life.

The Velveteen Rabbit is a lovely stuffed bunny given to a young boy for Christmas. He lives in the nursery, where his only friend is the ancient, ragged Skin Horse. The Skin Horse explains to the rabbit that he, unlike most of the toys in the nursery, is real because he was once loved by the boy's uncle. He describes how, when you are loved, you begin to grow tattered and torn and you no longer look beautiful to most people. But by the time you are real, none of that matters anymore. To the one who loves you, you are the most beautiful thing in the world, and once you have become real, no one can ever take that away.

The Velveteen Rabbit dreams of the day when he might become real, and on one magical night, quite by accident, the boy is reunited with him. They become constant playmates, and soon the boy will not settle for any other toy. The Velveteen Rabbit doesn't notice as his fur grows shabby and his eyes lose their polish. He has become real.

That year, the boy becomes gravely ill with scarlet fever. The Velveteen Rabbit remains at his side at all times, but when the boy is on the road to recovery, he is still infested with germs and sentenced by the doctor to be tossed into the burning barrel. And as the rabbit awaits his demise, still grateful for the chance to have been real, a miracle occurs that will leave tears in your eyes and a new song in your heart.

This book can be enjoyed equally by adults and children. It is a lovely story whose moral never grows old. Pick up a copy during this season of growth and renewal. You may never be the same.

Just in Time for Easter

As Easter approaches, this movie is a great one to pick up to get you in the spirit of the season. This energetic retelling of the last week of Jesus' life is more powerful as a play, but as a video it holds its own. Sung in its entirety, J.C. Superstar features a cast of rock singers with bizarre costumes.

For the most part, this Andrew Lloyd Weber-Tim Rice production stays true to the story, though they put a very different spin on it. Instead of focusing on Jesus, they attempt to show us the Passion of Christ through the eyes of Judas. A tortured individual, he believes that it will be to the betterment of his people to turn Jesus in to the authorities. Filled with remorse after the deed, he wonders if Jesus could still love him after his betrayal. Then he hangs himself, later confronting Jesus in limbo, in our current time, asking if he thought it was all worth it.

The music makes this movie. Similar musical themes run throughout, giving different songs the same tune. All are memorable, from the tender I Don't Know How to Love Him to the hilarious Herod's Song to the hesitantly triumphant title number. As that's the only dialogue in this movie, you almost might do just as well to simply buy the soundtrack.

There are so many absurd costumes in this movie, and the dances which go along with some of the songs are downright disturbing. As for the props...the scene in the temple includes everything from postcards to firearms. Herod's palace includes a huge swimming pool, a honky-tonk piano, and a big basket of bagels which he throws at Jesus. And in Judas' delusions, he sees himself being chased by tanks and B2 bombers.

All anachronisms aside, this is an interesting modern treatment of a sacred story which millions across the globe consider to be true. The music makes it entertaining and accessible to all manners of people in our young generation. Everyone should see this production at least once. It is highly preferable to see it in the theater, but if your local theater can't accommodate then give the video a shot.