Take a Trip Back to the Hundred-Acre Wood With Winnie the Pooh

When I first heard about Winnie the Pooh, Disney’s sequel to 1977’s The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, I immediately realized that it would come out the same weekend as Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2. How could I choose between the bear I’ve loved all my life and the wizard who took me on a magical literary journey lasting nearly a decade?

I do question the wisdom of Disney releasing Winnie the Pooh on that particular weekend, when any box office revenue would be dwarfed by one of the most anticipated movies in recent memory, but perhaps the thought was that it would fill the niche of children too young for Harry Potter. I was only able to catch one of the movies opening weekend, and I couldn’t resist the allure of Harry, but I caught up with Pooh and his friends this weekend. His adventure is far shorter and simpler, but it’s just as enjoyable in its own breezy way, at least for a lifelong fan like me.

It surprised me to hear Winnie the Pooh described as Pooh’s first time on the big screen since the 1970s. Other Pooh movies have been released in theaters, featuring the same basic look and several of the same cast members as Pooh’s first Disney outing, so I’m not sure why this one is considered so fundamentally different. Then again, it does feel more closely tied with Many Adventures, given the strong presence of the narrator and the frequent interaction with the book in which the stories reside. One scene makes particularly clever use of some letters that tumble into the tale.

There’s nothing revolutionary about this movie. Life in the Hundred-Acre Wood is very simple, with just a few basic problems that plague its residents time and again. Hence, Eeyore losing his tail is familiar territory, as is Owl misreading a note from Christopher Robin and sending everyone into a panic, Piglet facing his fear and Pooh running out of honey. Because of the leisurely pace and the repetitive nature of the stories, my guess is that many adults will find it a bit on the snoozy side despite the mere 70-minute length, and some kids might as well. One family in my showing actually left halfway through. You have to go into this movie with a certain mindset, accepting that its driving events are not going to be very adrenaline-inducing.

The movie reprises a couple of established songs and introduces several others, though most are short and forgettable. The most memorable is a fearsome description of the Backson, the beast that has allegedly kidnapped Christopher Robin. This sequence, accompanied by chalkboard illustrations, has a trippy edge to it reminiscent of the Heffalumps and Woozles sequence in the original film. The characters’ imaginations run away with them as they dream up all the dreadful things this monster does, and the song seems to invite post-movie creativity from children in the audience.

All of the voice actors are expressive and fit into their roles well, but most of the cast is new for this movie, and the differences take some getting used to. Jim Cummings continues to inhabit the role of Pooh perfectly, and he does an admirable job with Tigger as well, but Travis Oates’ voice is distractingly high as Piglet. The tone is about right, but the pitch makes it sound like he’s on helium. He’s been playing Piglet on My Friends Tigger and Pooh and related specials since John Fiedler’s death in 2007, but this is my first encounter with the new Piglet, and he hasn’t quite won me over yet. Tom Kenny takes over for Ken Sansom as Rabbit for the first time, and his voice sounds decidedly off as well. Bud Luckey fares better as despondent Eeyore; aside from sounding a bit too Southern at times, he seems like a good match for Peter Cullen. Wyatt Dean Hall is fittingly spunky as Roo, while Jack Boulter is a more refined but still boyish Christopher Robin, Kristen Anderson-Lopez makes a very maternal Kanga and John Cleese is a predictably fine narrator.

The standout cast member for me, though, is Craig Ferguson, who seems to be having the time of his life as the grandiloquent Owl. Having often watched Ferguson’s rambling monologues on The Late Late Show, I would say that the character is an ideal fit with his style, and I can’t help wondering whether he had the same sort of free improvisational rein that Robin Williams did with Aladdin. Owl similarly steals the show, getting most of the best lines and generally making more of an impression than any other character, even Pooh himself. Ferguson nails the essence of the character, striking a perfect balance of sophistication and silliness whether he’s composing his extensive memoirs or delivering a rousing speech of encouragement to Piglet as he embarks on a rescue mission that Owl could much more easily undertake himself. His insistence on using complicated vocabulary is a running joke throughout the movie as poor muddled Pooh tries to puzzle out his meaning, and I found myself reminded of Trixie Belden scratching her head over the overly complex proclamations of her older brother Mart. I’d love to see those two try to talk each other under the table.

While most of the movie is more likely to elicit a nostalgic smile than a hearty laugh, some scenes are quite funny, and most involve words in some way. Pooh and Eeyore’s misunderstanding of Owl’s use of the word “issue” and a discussion of knots that reminds me of Abbott and Costello’s Who’s On First? routine are a hoot, as is the way everyone’s speech becomes absurdly littered with the word “honey” when the rumbly in Pooh’s tumbly gets to be too much for him to bear. This movie paints Kanga as being easily annoyed by loud noises, which adds to the humor and makes her more prominent than usual. It also seems like a sly nod to the parents in the audience who can probably relate all too well with her desire for a little peace and quiet.

The movie also emphasizes the consideration the characters have for each other. When they believe Christopher Robin to be in danger, everyone steps up to the plate to help. When Eeyore gets left out of the main contingent’s plan to rescue him, Tigger takes him under his wing. Piglet braves the spooky forest and Pooh puts his craving for honey aside for the sake of their friends. That pervasive spirit of camaraderie, even more than the idyllic scenery and the lackadaisical lifestyle, is what makes the thought of a sojourn in the Hundred-Acre Wood so appealing.

Disney tends to reward viewers patient enough to sit through the credits, and that’s certainly the case here. To the tune of a charming new song by Zooey Deschanel, the credits roll, complete with animated tidbits as Pooh and his pals interact with the names scrolling down the screen. There’s even a final funny scene at the very end of the credits that is well worth the short wait.

Before the movie, meanwhile, we’re treated to The Ballad of Nessie, an old-school-style short warmly narrated in rhyme by Billy Connolly. Given Ferguson’s prominence in the movie – albeit with an upper crust British accent rather than his natural Glaswegian accent – I wonder if he was a factor in deciding to pair the film up with this short, which is largely a celebration of stereotypical Scotland. With a rustic, bagpipe-laced score reminiscent of Ashokan Farewell and nods to everything from thistles and tartans to golf and Braveheart, it has great appeal for those who love that country as much as I do. Nessie, with her rosy cheeks, long eyelashes and vaguely Wookiee-like voice, is adorable, as is her rubber duck companion, and the takeaway message is a worthwhile one.

My showing of Winnie the Pooh had an audience of about a dozen, and I doubt that was too atypical. It doesn’t have the same sort of blockbuster draw that Harry Potter or even a typical animated Disney feature does; despite the popularity of Pooh products, most consider the movies themselves to be the realm of the very young. However, if you’re still young at heart and if you ever wished you could blink yourself to the Hundred-Acre Wood for a day, I suspect you will find this outing with Pooh and his friends a pleasant return to beloved company.

Matthew McConaughey Blunders Toward Independence in Failure to Launch

I have a mixed track record when it comes to movies starring Matthew McConaughey. Sometimes he’s great, as in his spirited turn as a coach who helps revive a tragedy-struck college football team in We Are Marshall. Sometimes, he makes me cringe, as I’m doing right now as I recall his role as a womanizing sleazebag in the lamentable Ghosts of Girlfriends Past. I feared that I might be veering closer to the latter with 2006’s Failure to Launch, but I decided to give the romantic comedy a try anyway.

Tripp (McConaughey) is a bit of a womanizer too, but at least he sticks to one girl at a time. The commitment-shy boat salesman feels like he’s got it made. Sweep the ladies off their feet, have a little fun with them, invite them home for some hanky-panky… and let them find out that his gorgeous residence actually belongs to his parents. Yes, he’s 35 and still living at home, and his dates all consider that a major turn-off – especially when Mom (Kathy Bates) or Dad (Terry Bradshaw) could poke a head in his bedroom at a most inopportune time. He seems quite content with this living arrangement, but his parents aren’t. They’re ready to be empty nesters. So they call in Paula (Sarah Jessica Parker) to help their little fledgling fly the coop.

Paula has built a lucrative career out of getting men like Tripp to fall for her, which motivates them to get on their feet and become independent. She’s got it down to a science, and Tripp is putty in her hands. Their courtship is going so well that she expects to have him out of his house in no time. The only catch? Tripp is not the only one falling in love. Paula has prided herself on her ability to maintain emotional distance; could Tripp’s surprising hold on her ruin his parents’ plan and her career? Will two hearts be broken before all is said and done?

I found the movie’s premise interesting. For a number of reasons, adult children living with their parents is increasingly common in America. There’s almost a presupposition here that no woman in her right mind would ever knowingly date a guy in such a situation, which seems to be overstating things a little. Then again, I may just feel defensive of these fellas since I live at home myself. (The movie also seems to imply that this is chiefly a male phenomenon, but I know several more women who live with their parents than men. Hmm… Do I smell a sequel?) Paula’s tactics seem very effective, though I would think that if she is the main factor in getting a man to leave his parents, there would be a serious chance of him running back to them after the relationship dissolves. In any case, she seems to be setting all these guys up for heartache.

Nonetheless, I couldn’t help finding Paula pretty likable, and I do get the sense that it’s not just about the money. She wants to encourage her unwitting clients to spread their wings a little. Meanwhile, Tripp is a loafer and a ladies’ man, which makes him rather annoying, but he’s also got a respectable job that suits him and a tender big brotherly relationship with a young man he refers to as his nephew. It’s through this boy that we and Paula best glimpse his softer side.

Tripp is aptly named, since he seems to have a special knack for taking pratfalls, particularly when wild creatures are involved, and his hapless buddies Ace (Justin Bartha) and Demo (Bradley Cooper) are the worst wingmen ever on these occasions. Paula’s pal Kit (Zooey Deschanel) is a bit more helpful, though she spends half the movie glowering over the racket made by a mockingbird plaguing the house she and Paula share. Despite her morose countenance, I found her one of the funniest characters and in some ways enjoyed the romantic subplot involving her more than the main one. Bates is funny too as the mom who smothers Tripp with affection but simultaneously wants him out of the house. For her, letting go is a struggle, while Bradshaw’s gruff manner as Tripp’s dad demonstrates that he would be more than happy to see his son venture off on his own.

On the whole, I found Failure to Launch a pretty engaging comedy and far from the worst McConaughey vehicle I’ve seen. It’s a bit silly at times, while at others it’s thought-provoking, prompting rumination over the reasons adults live with their parents and the issues involved in such an arrangement. Mostly, though, it’s just a light romance with a feel-good conclusion and some pretty good laughs along the way.

I Won't Call Foul on Ferrell in Elf

Lately, I've been deluged with advertisements in which a dopey basketball player with big hair played by Will Ferrell promotes the movie Semi-Pro. Although Ferrell was my favorite Saturday Night Live cast member during his time on the show, largely because of his hilarious impersonations of such venerable figures as George W. Bush, Alex Trebek and James Lipton, I've generally found his films to be crude and stupid. However, there has been one notable exception to that trend.

Elf stars Ferrell as Buddy, the tallest elf in Santa's workshop. He lives in a world built for people half his size and smaller. Though he's bursting with Christmas cheer, always wearing an exuberant grin as he prances about in his green suit and yellow tights, physically, he just doesn't fit in, and there's a very good reason for that. Buddy is not an elf.

No, he's a regular old human who stowed away in Santa's (Ed Asner) pack as an infant and wound up at the North Pole, a fish out of water but still presumably much happier than he would have been at the orphanage he left. Though he loves his frosty home and especially the elf who raised him (Bob Newhart), when he gets the shocking truth about his past, Buddy is determined to go to the big city and meet his father (James Caan). But the naive young man with the emotional maturity of a five-year-old isn't prepared for what lies ahead...

Ferrell completely throws himself into his performance, making Buddy funny without being obnoxious, sweet without being saccharine. Yes, he's over-the-top, but having seen what Ferrell is capable of, I'd say he exercised admirable restraint. While Buddy was physically out of place at the North Pole, he is mentally out of place in New York City, impossibly bright-eyed and naive like Giselle in Disney's Enchanted.

Like Giselle, he finds himself falling for a jaded New Yorker. In this case, it's department store elf Jovie (Zooey Deschanel), who isn't too full of the Christmas spirit. Their romance unfolds gradually, prodded along by Buddy's encouragement for her to sing, an activity she doesn't want to admit she loves. Speaking of singing, the movie got a nice little squeal out of me with an off-hand reference to Simon and Garfunkel; if you love Paul and Artie as much as I do, keep an ear out!

While I don't expect much out of Semi-Pro, Elf is a thoroughly enjoyable movie, a gently funny showcase of all the best Ferrell has to offer, and I hope he has a film or two along those family-friendly lines in his future.

Bridge to Terabithia is About Much More Than Special Effects

When I first learned that Walden Media, the Disney-owned production company behind The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Charlotte's Web and several other big-screen adaptations of classic children's books, was taking on Bridge to Terabithia, one of my all-time favorite novels, I was excited. And then I was nervous, especially when I saw the trailers. They were fantastical, full of highly imaginative CGI creatures and the promise of an epic battle. They were pulse-poundingly exciting. And they seemed to be an indication that the movie was not going to be very much like the book.

That's not to say, of course, that the book isn't exciting. But it's not another Chronicles of Narnia - much as author Katherine Paterson may have been influenced by C. S. Lewis in her writing. Leslie Burke, the lively, warm-hearted, creative girl who moves in next door to sullen, friendless, secretly artistic Jess Aarons, teaches him how to open his mind to the farthest reaches of imagination. She helps him find a place where the two of them are safe from the drudgery and travails of the everyday world, yet it is ultimately to his everyday, ordinary life that Jesse must apply those gently drawn-out skills. Bridge to Terabithia is about friendship and family and finding your place in the world. It's not about knocking down giants with acorn grenades.

So I was much relieved when I discovered the special effects-drenched trailer was grossly misleading. There is CGI, but in small doses, and done in such a way as to show us that Jesse is growing into an ability to witness such visions. Over the course of several Terabithian sojourns, we observe fierce fights with monsters derived from squirrels, birds and even trees. The latter, an enormous giant, becomes representative of a threat that looms large back in the real world: Janice Avery (Lauren Clinton), an aggressive eighth-grader who delights in throwing other students' sandwiches at unsuspecting victims, eating other students' Twinkies and charging even the kindergarteners a dollar to use the bathroom. Interestingly, while Leslie mentions Narnia several times in the book, all references are excised here despite the convenient opportunity for self-promotion. The visual similarities are striking, however; one can't help but think of Narnia as Leslie (AnnaSophia Robb) and Jesse (Josh Hutcherson) gaze out over the treetops to overlook their kingdom with its majestic mountains and shimmering rivers, or when its subjects gather from all corners of that magical land for a culminating regal scene.

Across the creek from Terabithia, just a rope swing away, is harsh reality, where everything seems to be stacked against Jesse. The kids at school, especially Janice and equally ill-tempered Scott Hoager (Cameron Wakefield), shove him around; his rigid fifth-grade teacher, "Monster" Myers (Jen Wolfe), barks at him in class; his quarrelsome teenage sisters Brenda (Devon Wood) and Ellie (Emma Fenton) yap endlessly about inane topics; and worst of all, his gruff, no-nonsense father (Robert Patrick) rarely has a kind word for him. Leslie, too, faces the derision of classmates, and although her parents work at home, she doesn't get to spend much time with them. Still, she keeps a positive outlook, and it's her cheerful persistence, coupled with Jesse's blooming empathy, that brings the two of them together after a false start when she outruns him in a race he's been training for all summer.

The novel is set in the 1970s, and although the film is transported to modern times, the setting changes little. The cars are newer-looking, Ellie and Brenda watch VH-1 all day (which is odd, considering how dirt-poor the Aaronses are), Mrs. Myers issues a grave warning against downloading essays from the Internet. Oh, and in the wake of all the recent scandals, Ms Edmunds (Zooey Deschanel), the luminous music teacher with whom Jesse is smitten, offering to take Jesse on a trip to a Washington, D.C. art museum could raise an eyebrow among more jaded audience members. Actually, though, she brings a definite 70s vibe to the film with her offbeat style and the mellow songs she has the class sing. Moreover, aside from those offhand references to modern technology, the town feels like it's much the same as it has been for decades, and certainly the year matters little once Jesse and Leslie are in Terabithia.

The acting is good all around, if not remarkable. Hutcherson's performance is understated, while Robb's role calls for a touch of the overdramatic. Leslie is perky and fun, smiling throughout most of the film, as opposed to Jesse, who is mostly stony-faced, though we are sometimes privileged to see the thought processes behind his eyes. As much as his time with Leslie awakens his imagination, I thought his best and most revealing scenes were those he shared with his father and his little sister May Belle (Bailee Madison). Having just seen Patrick in a small but effective role in We Are Marshall, I paid extra attention to his part in this film, and I found his portrayal of Jesse's father to be quite moving. He doesn't seem to know how to interact with his son and snaps at him out of frustration that he always seems to have his head in the clouds. This contrasts with his tender, affectionate treatment of May Belle, to whom the adorable Madison brings an irresistible charm. May Belle worships the ground her brother walks on, and she tags along after him all the time, often to his annoyance. Shortly before the film ends, Jesse enjoys reparative scenes with each of them that I found to be the most touching in the movie. Also of great impact is a brief scene in which he gets an unexpected glimpse at Mrs. Myers' softer side.

The cinematography is well done, especially in Terabithia, and the opening and closing credits, which feature animated drawings of Jesse's, are clever. The film does delve into the darkness of life, but in such a way as to show that light is never out of grasp. It grapples delicately with difficult topics, opening the door for such discussions amongst families. Bridge to Terabithia marks yet another successful chapter in Walden Media's history. If they take as much care with all their adaptations as they have with this, Charlotte's Web and Narnia, I'd say the children's literature canon is in pretty good hands.

"If There's One Thing an Englishman Knows, It's How to Queue."

That’s what I love about Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy; it’s so delightfully British. The series is on my list of books to read. Many of my friends have informed me that I need to read Douglas Adams’ masterpiece, and I suspect they’re right. At least the movie gave me a taste of what to expect. Like many adaptations, I get the sense that this was not entirely successful in its attempt to do justice to the book. But at times, I suspect that the film came pretty close.

When a movie begins with the obliteration of Earth, that’s usually not a good sign – though singing dolphins help to make up for this atrocity. In any case, it’s clear Our Hero, British everyman Arthur Dent (Martin Freeman), isn’t having a very good day. First a crew shows up to knock his house down to make way for a highway, then hundreds of alien ships show up and incinerate his planet to make way for the galactic version of the same thing. But Arthur does have a bit of luck on his side, in the form of Ford Prefect (Mos Def), his upbeat friend who just happens to be an alien aware of Earth’s imminent destruction. Once Ford whisks them off the doomed planet, the real adventure begins.

They soon find themselves the traveling companions of Zaphod Beeblebrox (Sam Rockwell), the egotistical, two-headed Intergalactic president, and his girlfriend, Trillian (Zooey Deschanel), with whom Arthur is not so secretly smitten. I must admit that while I found Arthur endearing and Ford engaging, Trillian was rather annoying to me and Zaphod was just plain obnoxious. I think I would have much preferred the movie without him. But as unsatisfactory as those two characters were, their portly robot shipmate Marvin made up for it. Brilliantly voiced by Alan Rickman, who seems to have a knack for pulling off mournful characters and managed, in my opinion, to make Snape the most intriguing character in the Harry Potter films, this droid possesses all the cheer of Eeyore and never minds letting everyone within earshot know how miserable he is. He was undoubtedly my favorite character in the film, unless one counts a certain instructional manual as a character…

The titular guide was consistently the source of greatest amusement for me. Its witty observations and recollections struck me as so deliciously absurd, I wished it would have appeared even more often than it did. Voiced by Stephen Fry, it also provides the narration for the film, which is excellent and a bit reminiscent of Jude Law in Series of Unfortunate Events, though I think Fry had more opportunity to make the most of his potential for amusement. Little details of the film also provide great mirth, such as the tendency of the hideous Vogons to become so enmeshed in paperwork that they never accomplish anything, or their utilization of poetry as a torture tool. I’m also a fan of the rather daffy Slartibartfast (Bill Nighy), the sullen-looking fellow who shows Arthur the factory where planets are created, and I think the concept of the point-of-view gun is brilliant. Wouldn’t it come in handy to just zap someone with the result that they would instantly understand your point of view? I want one!

Basically, as a comedy, Hitchhiker’s Guide succeeds, though there are lines that fall flat and there were several elements of the film that still didn’t really make sense to my by the end. I don’t think the comedic aspect translated as well as it could have, but it still made for pretty funny viewing. The love story, on the other hand, failed to move me at all. I could have done without it altogether. While Arthur was very loveable, Trillian just didn’t seem his type to me, and I didn’t find any chemistry between them. So go see the movie for a laugh, and keep an ear out especially for Marvin and the Guide. I don’t know that it’s everything Douglas Adams would have wanted it to be, but I doubt he’s rolling over in his grave.