Donald Duck certainly has a way of making a mess of things. Sometimes
it's his own fault, but sometimes, as in the 1955 Carl Barks
picture book Donald Duck: The Fair Fiasco, disaster finds him, and there's not a lot that he can do about it.
The
story begins with Donald's nephews informing him that his horoscope
indicates that whatever he dreamed the night before will come true.
Donald can't remember his dream but hopes it was pleasant, and when he
sees an ad for a county fair with an old-fashioned rig contest, he
figures that fortune is on the horizon for him.
Sweet but feisty
farmer Grandma Duck, a character I only recall encountering in one
other Disney book many years ago, has a role to play here, as she is the
one who owns the ox cart that Donald takes to the fair, as well as the
bull that will pull it. Although Grandma assures Donald that he is
docile and has never charged at the color red, the bull begins to
display erratic behavior almost as soon as Grandma's house is out of
sight. Was this a terrible mistake?
The nice thing about this
book is that neither Donald nor his nephews are being obnoxious, which
all four have been known to do. Donald is just a guy who'd like a lucky
break, and his nephews seem to want him to have one too. Johnny, the
bull, is a gentle creature - except when he isn't. Given Grandma's
recommendation, Donald is not so much to blame for his wild behavior as
he is for the car that he can't control in Donald Duck, TV Star!
Still, there's a lesson here about properly preparing for something
before diving into it. Then again, this was a last-minute decision, so
further preparation would not have been possible.
The book
almost has a comic book feel to it, as most pages include boxes set
inside the primary pages. Barks also uses dialogue bubbles occasionally
with Donald, as well as jumbo-sized onomatopoeia. The varying background
colors on each page help add variety and interest in this visually
appealing book. Johnny is particularly vivid, especially when he sees
something that makes him angry. It becomes a race against time to
discover what is triggering Johnny's rages. Can Donald or his nephews
figure it out in time, or will the bull be left to cut a path of
destruction across the county? The clues are evident, so kids can have
fun trying to work out the solution before the characters do.
Donald Duck: The Fair Fiasco
is a funny book that paints Donald in an almost entirely sympathetic
light. More than half a century old, this classic story still provides
laughs.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Thursday, November 10, 2011
A Christmas Band Tackles Disney in Mannheim Steamroller Meets the Mouse
When I hear the name Mannheim Steamroller, I immediately think
Christmas. After all, this is the group whose distinctive electronica
arrangements of Christmas classics are inescapable come December,
particularly at retailers. However, seasonal music is not all they do. I
was surprised to find that one of their more unusual projects is Mannheim Steamroller Meets the Mouse, a collection of Disney songs.
If I were to listen to these songs out of context, I would most likely be able to guess that they were the work of Mannheim Steamroller, since they have such a unique sound. Several of the selections, most notably the peppy Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, actually seem like they would fit well in the Main Street Electrical Parade. They're fun, funky takes on Disney classics. The drawback is that the compositions sometimes have extended openings veering so far from the original that it takes quite a while to recognize the song. I especially found that to be the case with the rather gothic opener, Chim Chim Cher-ee, and the adventurous-sounding The Ballad of Davy Crockett.
Of course, if you're going to have an album of covers like this, it's generally better to do something unique with them. It seems like the group had a lot of fun with these arrangements, particularly in terms of ambient noise. Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah, for instance, has warbling birds in the background, while Heigh-Ho includes several interesting percussive instruments meant to evoke digging in a mine. I think the coolest track may be Under the Sea, which incorporates seagulls, surf and bubbling noises, to say nothing of the reggae-ish instruments that tackle the melody, though Reflection, the longest track, gives it a serious run for its money with its Asian instrumentation and gently running water.
One of the most experimental tracks is When You Wish Upon a Star, which weaves itself around the melody of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I'd never really noticed the similarities between the tunes, but they complement each other quite well. The other is Hakuna Matata, which bears only a passing resemblance to the actual song and basically just turns the title phrase into a sort of ceremonial chant accompanied by tribal rhythms.
More straightforward are You've Got a Friend in Me, which has a rather bluesy feel to it, and Go the Distance, which feels appropriately epic without including any really unusual instruments. The saxophone surprised me a bit, but it works well for the fairly brief segment in which it appears. Mickey Mouse March, which closes the album and is only the second to include vocals, is probably my least favorite track; I like the song, but this rendition sounds so mournful that it ends the album on a bit of a sour note.
Still, the album on the whole is lots of fun. I know there are some who find the musical stylings of Mannheim Steamroller annoying; if you don't like their Christmas music, I doubt you'll like this. However, if offbeat renditions of familiar classics appeal to you, meet Mannheim Steamroller Meets the Mouse. You'll be glad you did.
If I were to listen to these songs out of context, I would most likely be able to guess that they were the work of Mannheim Steamroller, since they have such a unique sound. Several of the selections, most notably the peppy Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, actually seem like they would fit well in the Main Street Electrical Parade. They're fun, funky takes on Disney classics. The drawback is that the compositions sometimes have extended openings veering so far from the original that it takes quite a while to recognize the song. I especially found that to be the case with the rather gothic opener, Chim Chim Cher-ee, and the adventurous-sounding The Ballad of Davy Crockett.
Of course, if you're going to have an album of covers like this, it's generally better to do something unique with them. It seems like the group had a lot of fun with these arrangements, particularly in terms of ambient noise. Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah, for instance, has warbling birds in the background, while Heigh-Ho includes several interesting percussive instruments meant to evoke digging in a mine. I think the coolest track may be Under the Sea, which incorporates seagulls, surf and bubbling noises, to say nothing of the reggae-ish instruments that tackle the melody, though Reflection, the longest track, gives it a serious run for its money with its Asian instrumentation and gently running water.
One of the most experimental tracks is When You Wish Upon a Star, which weaves itself around the melody of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I'd never really noticed the similarities between the tunes, but they complement each other quite well. The other is Hakuna Matata, which bears only a passing resemblance to the actual song and basically just turns the title phrase into a sort of ceremonial chant accompanied by tribal rhythms.
More straightforward are You've Got a Friend in Me, which has a rather bluesy feel to it, and Go the Distance, which feels appropriately epic without including any really unusual instruments. The saxophone surprised me a bit, but it works well for the fairly brief segment in which it appears. Mickey Mouse March, which closes the album and is only the second to include vocals, is probably my least favorite track; I like the song, but this rendition sounds so mournful that it ends the album on a bit of a sour note.
Still, the album on the whole is lots of fun. I know there are some who find the musical stylings of Mannheim Steamroller annoying; if you don't like their Christmas music, I doubt you'll like this. However, if offbeat renditions of familiar classics appeal to you, meet Mannheim Steamroller Meets the Mouse. You'll be glad you did.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
The Poky Little Puppy's First Christmas Brings Friendship and Generosity
When I was little, one of my favorite books was the Little Golden Book The Poky Little Puppy.
As I’ve always been on the poky side myself, I related to this pup that
has such a hard time keeping up with his siblings, in part because he
takes more time to stop and notice everything around him. I’m not sure
how it took me this long to discover it, but this year I found out that
another book featuring this peripatetic pooch was published, this one
with a Christmas theme. With so much to see and do at this time of year,
it’s little wonder that the Poky Little Puppy would be distracted.
Which of the sights of the season would occupy his attention?
The Poky Little Puppy’s First Christmas has a different tone to it than the original book, which emphasizes Poky’s curiosity and unintentional disobedience. Late in the book, he’s chastised for being naughty, but ultimately the book concludes with him home safe and happy. Here, it seems that Poky’s mother is more understanding of his meandering ways, and while she implores him to be home on time, her response to his inevitable tardiness is not as harsh as in the first book. In any case, Poky’s vagabond ways merely set the stage for the most significant part of the story, which comes later.
In this book, a skunk named Herman helps Poky get out of a jam. Later, when Herman is in trouble himself, Poky finds a way to help him. The message is one of friendship and of being willing to give to others even if it’s at your own expense sometimes. Since Poky’s slow and inquisitive ways are what lead him to make the friendship and to hit upon the solution to his friend’s problem, this book celebrates Poky’s natural disposition instead of scolding it. That unquenchable curiosity about the world gets him into trouble, but it also gets him – and others – out of it.
As this was written about 50 years after the original, we don’t have the same author and illustrator on board this time around. The writer in this case is Justine Korman, while the illustrator is Jean Chandler. Looking at the book, even if I didn’t know how much later this was published, I would have guessed that the illustrator was different, but the look is similar enough that this is clearly the same character. The writing is solid, but the style is clearly not quite that of the original author. Also, the prominence of the family with whom the dogs live distinguishes it from the first book.
While The Poky Little Puppy is one of America’s most enduringly popular picture books, having sold about 15 million copies, I don’t see The Poky Little Puppy’s First Christmas becoming that iconic. It’s merely an afterthought of a sequel. Nonetheless, the poky little puppy continues to appeal to inquisitive children, and the emphasis on the joy of giving to a friend in need makes this an enjoyable Christmas tale.
The Poky Little Puppy’s First Christmas has a different tone to it than the original book, which emphasizes Poky’s curiosity and unintentional disobedience. Late in the book, he’s chastised for being naughty, but ultimately the book concludes with him home safe and happy. Here, it seems that Poky’s mother is more understanding of his meandering ways, and while she implores him to be home on time, her response to his inevitable tardiness is not as harsh as in the first book. In any case, Poky’s vagabond ways merely set the stage for the most significant part of the story, which comes later.
In this book, a skunk named Herman helps Poky get out of a jam. Later, when Herman is in trouble himself, Poky finds a way to help him. The message is one of friendship and of being willing to give to others even if it’s at your own expense sometimes. Since Poky’s slow and inquisitive ways are what lead him to make the friendship and to hit upon the solution to his friend’s problem, this book celebrates Poky’s natural disposition instead of scolding it. That unquenchable curiosity about the world gets him into trouble, but it also gets him – and others – out of it.
As this was written about 50 years after the original, we don’t have the same author and illustrator on board this time around. The writer in this case is Justine Korman, while the illustrator is Jean Chandler. Looking at the book, even if I didn’t know how much later this was published, I would have guessed that the illustrator was different, but the look is similar enough that this is clearly the same character. The writing is solid, but the style is clearly not quite that of the original author. Also, the prominence of the family with whom the dogs live distinguishes it from the first book.
While The Poky Little Puppy is one of America’s most enduringly popular picture books, having sold about 15 million copies, I don’t see The Poky Little Puppy’s First Christmas becoming that iconic. It’s merely an afterthought of a sequel. Nonetheless, the poky little puppy continues to appeal to inquisitive children, and the emphasis on the joy of giving to a friend in need makes this an enjoyable Christmas tale.
Jamie's Journal Goes Viral in Disney Channel's Read It and Weep
I have never had much luck keeping a private journal. I can’t seem to
motivate myself much when I’m writing only for myself, and it’s a little
nerve-wracking to be writing down things you specifically don’t want
anyone else to read, because what would happen if they did? In Disney
Channel original movie Read It and Weep, teen scribe Jamie Bartlett is about to find out.
Jamie (Kay Panabaker) is a quiet, geeky girl who totes her tablet computer with her everywhere and spends all her free time scribbling down her frustrations about the unfair world of high school. Except in her journal, which features fictionalized versions of everyone in the school, the geeks triumph and the jerks are humiliated. It’s a great release for her, but she is appalled when she accidentally e-mails it to her friend instead of the essay she intended to enter in the school’s contest. After it wins, she is praised as a biting satirist and given a book deal that catapults her to writing fame. But will her sudden stardom turn her into the kind of monster she derided? And how will her classmates react when they realize the characters were modeled after them?
This is pretty much your typical teen flick about an awkward kid who becomes popular, loses sight of what’s important and eventually remembers. Jamie is likable, albeit overdramatic, but then most of the characters here come across as a bit cheesy and over-the-top. Panabaker’s older sister Danielle plays Is, Jamie’s fictional alter-ego who begins to take over her life. Their confrontations are fun to watch, especially when they occur in front of other people, who, of course, can only see and hear Jamie. Is basically becomes the devil on Jamie’s shoulder, continually urging her to ignore her good impulses and stick with self-involvement and false friends like catty queen bee Sawyer (Allison Scagliotti) and guileless but lunkheaded dreamboat Marco (Chad Broskey).
Other key characters include Jamie’s best buddies, a trio of outsiders who have stuck together for years. Offbeat artist Harmony (Alexandra Krosney), animal rights activist Lindsay (Marquise Brown) and shy Connor (Jason Dolley), who is secretly in love with Jamie, eat lunch together and work at the struggling pizza parlor owned by Jamie’s parents. Both of them are kind and supportive, with her mom (Connie Young) a bundle of bubbly energy and her dad (Tom Virtue) a goofy dreamer with a bad habit of tainting his pizzas with disgusting experimental toppings like prunes and liver and onions. By contrast, Jamie’s brother Lenny (Nick Whitaker) is surly and argumentative, but that’s largely because he has a dream of his own that is not being nurtured.
I don’t know the current Disney channel line-up well enough to be familiar with the actors here, several of whom I gather are veterans of other tween Disney projects. I recognized only Krosney, and it wasn’t until I consulted with IMDb that I realized it was because she played aggressive young Other Ellie in the season five LOST episode Jughead. The acting all around is acceptable but corny, with most characters constantly displaying exaggerated expressions. The most understated performance probably comes from the instantly sympathetic Dolley.
The movie has a faux-hip vibe to it that makes it rather grating at times. Nowhere is that more apparent than in the constant shots of the journal itself, in which no two words are the same size and different colors and fonts, along with snarky doodles, scream out that this alleged work of genius is more style than substance. The speed with which it all happens is absurd, too; she seems to go from having excerpts of her journal in the school paper to full-blown published book in a matter of days. Additionally, most of the dialogue has the unmistakable whiff of writers who think they are being trendy and clever but aren’t.
Still, while the characters never felt fully real to me, the main quartet is likable enough to root for, and Jamie’s parents are quite endearing for all their quirkiness. Like most contemporary Disney channel original movies, Read It and Weep does not transcend the narrow confines of its genre, but it’s reasonably entertaining for an hour and a half.
Jamie (Kay Panabaker) is a quiet, geeky girl who totes her tablet computer with her everywhere and spends all her free time scribbling down her frustrations about the unfair world of high school. Except in her journal, which features fictionalized versions of everyone in the school, the geeks triumph and the jerks are humiliated. It’s a great release for her, but she is appalled when she accidentally e-mails it to her friend instead of the essay she intended to enter in the school’s contest. After it wins, she is praised as a biting satirist and given a book deal that catapults her to writing fame. But will her sudden stardom turn her into the kind of monster she derided? And how will her classmates react when they realize the characters were modeled after them?
This is pretty much your typical teen flick about an awkward kid who becomes popular, loses sight of what’s important and eventually remembers. Jamie is likable, albeit overdramatic, but then most of the characters here come across as a bit cheesy and over-the-top. Panabaker’s older sister Danielle plays Is, Jamie’s fictional alter-ego who begins to take over her life. Their confrontations are fun to watch, especially when they occur in front of other people, who, of course, can only see and hear Jamie. Is basically becomes the devil on Jamie’s shoulder, continually urging her to ignore her good impulses and stick with self-involvement and false friends like catty queen bee Sawyer (Allison Scagliotti) and guileless but lunkheaded dreamboat Marco (Chad Broskey).
Other key characters include Jamie’s best buddies, a trio of outsiders who have stuck together for years. Offbeat artist Harmony (Alexandra Krosney), animal rights activist Lindsay (Marquise Brown) and shy Connor (Jason Dolley), who is secretly in love with Jamie, eat lunch together and work at the struggling pizza parlor owned by Jamie’s parents. Both of them are kind and supportive, with her mom (Connie Young) a bundle of bubbly energy and her dad (Tom Virtue) a goofy dreamer with a bad habit of tainting his pizzas with disgusting experimental toppings like prunes and liver and onions. By contrast, Jamie’s brother Lenny (Nick Whitaker) is surly and argumentative, but that’s largely because he has a dream of his own that is not being nurtured.
I don’t know the current Disney channel line-up well enough to be familiar with the actors here, several of whom I gather are veterans of other tween Disney projects. I recognized only Krosney, and it wasn’t until I consulted with IMDb that I realized it was because she played aggressive young Other Ellie in the season five LOST episode Jughead. The acting all around is acceptable but corny, with most characters constantly displaying exaggerated expressions. The most understated performance probably comes from the instantly sympathetic Dolley.
The movie has a faux-hip vibe to it that makes it rather grating at times. Nowhere is that more apparent than in the constant shots of the journal itself, in which no two words are the same size and different colors and fonts, along with snarky doodles, scream out that this alleged work of genius is more style than substance. The speed with which it all happens is absurd, too; she seems to go from having excerpts of her journal in the school paper to full-blown published book in a matter of days. Additionally, most of the dialogue has the unmistakable whiff of writers who think they are being trendy and clever but aren’t.
Still, while the characters never felt fully real to me, the main quartet is likable enough to root for, and Jamie’s parents are quite endearing for all their quirkiness. Like most contemporary Disney channel original movies, Read It and Weep does not transcend the narrow confines of its genre, but it’s reasonably entertaining for an hour and a half.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Winged Children Celebrate the Season in Little Angels' Book of Christmas
Artist Joan Walsh Anglund has books dating back several decades, and
many of the illustrations in her early books feature drab color schemes
or no color at all. Little Angels’ Book of Christmas, published
in 1997, is strikingly different because the colors are so vibrant.
Every picture is in full color, and while red and green are the most
prominent colors, she uses a whole range of hues, incorporating yellow
to especially good effect.
This book is slightly taller and almost twice as wide as the typical skinny Anglund book, so it has a very different look to it. Curiously, with more room to work with, her illustrations become less detailed. They’re still lovely to look at, but the landscapes in particular feel a bit more generic than in her earlier books. I find the color technique interesting, with the children generally having very thick color around the outsides of their clothing and very little on the middle portions. It’s a type of shading that is very pronounced.
The writing style is rather curious here because she alternates between prose and rhymed verse. Because she doesn’t stick to one or the other, it creates a feeling of incongruity lasting throughout the book. That’s probably my major complaint here. The book feels unnecessarily uneven. What’s more, some of the rhythm feels a bit clunky.
I’m also not entirely sure what purpose is served by giving all the children wings. In most of the illustrations, they just look like ordinary kids who happen to be able to take to the skies at a moment’s notice. In only one picture do we see an angel interacting with a normal child, and that scarcely-clothed angel looks like Cupid, while the rest are fully dressed and, aside from the tiny angels resting inside of stockings, the size of normal children.
While this book has a specific Christian focus and is more concerned with the nativity, it mentions Santa Claus, though only in the text. As a proud Swede, I get a kick out of the Santa Lucia wreath adorning the head of one golden-haired girl, though I wish that she was dressed in white instead of pink. However, aside from the nearly naked angel, all of them wear robes of green, gold or pink. While only one angel wears a wreath with candles on it, several have garlands on their heads, and they look especially nice on the children in green.
This is one of several Little Angels books, and while it is not my favorite of her Christmas reflections, the angels do seem well suited for this occasion. For a slightly celestial take on the Christmas season, have a look at Little Angels’ Book of Christmas.
This book is slightly taller and almost twice as wide as the typical skinny Anglund book, so it has a very different look to it. Curiously, with more room to work with, her illustrations become less detailed. They’re still lovely to look at, but the landscapes in particular feel a bit more generic than in her earlier books. I find the color technique interesting, with the children generally having very thick color around the outsides of their clothing and very little on the middle portions. It’s a type of shading that is very pronounced.
The writing style is rather curious here because she alternates between prose and rhymed verse. Because she doesn’t stick to one or the other, it creates a feeling of incongruity lasting throughout the book. That’s probably my major complaint here. The book feels unnecessarily uneven. What’s more, some of the rhythm feels a bit clunky.
I’m also not entirely sure what purpose is served by giving all the children wings. In most of the illustrations, they just look like ordinary kids who happen to be able to take to the skies at a moment’s notice. In only one picture do we see an angel interacting with a normal child, and that scarcely-clothed angel looks like Cupid, while the rest are fully dressed and, aside from the tiny angels resting inside of stockings, the size of normal children.
While this book has a specific Christian focus and is more concerned with the nativity, it mentions Santa Claus, though only in the text. As a proud Swede, I get a kick out of the Santa Lucia wreath adorning the head of one golden-haired girl, though I wish that she was dressed in white instead of pink. However, aside from the nearly naked angel, all of them wear robes of green, gold or pink. While only one angel wears a wreath with candles on it, several have garlands on their heads, and they look especially nice on the children in green.
This is one of several Little Angels books, and while it is not my favorite of her Christmas reflections, the angels do seem well suited for this occasion. For a slightly celestial take on the Christmas season, have a look at Little Angels’ Book of Christmas.
The Forest Is a Perfect Place for Bambi's Hide and Seek
Hide-and-seek is a beloved childhood game that tends to lose its luster
after a while, at least if you only have a typical house and yard in
which to hide. Under those circumstances, the hiding places run out
pretty fast. But out in the forest, I would think it would be a game
that would remain fun far longer since there are so many spots where one
can crouch or sneak inside a crack or crevice. Bambi and Thumper are
certainly having a good time of it in the Step Into Reading book Bambi’s Hide and Seek.
This Super Early book is designed for children who are just taking the first steps in getting used to the written word. Illustrator Isidre Mones is responsible for the bulk of the story, while Andrea Posner-Sanchez provides the simple words to which children can respond. In some cases, it’s only one or two words per page, while some pages include up to two sentences of several words each.
Many of these are repetitive; the bulk of the story involves Bambi looking for Thumper, and each time he finds another creature instead, we see the words “That is not Thumper!” or “You are not Thumper!” There’s a definite rhythm to the story as Bambi discovers a new potential hiding spot, unearths another animal and realizes that Thumper is someplace else. The format is very similar to the Eric Hill book Where’s Spot?, but that is a lift-the-flap book and this isn’t. In fact, flaps would have been a fun way to make this book more interactive, but then it wouldn’t have fit in with the Step Into Reading Series.
I’ve never seen a Bambi book with hokey illustrations; it seems this natural setting inspires greater artistry. While Bambi, Thumper and the other forest creatures are not quite as detailed as they are in the movie or the Disney Bunnies line of books about Thumper, they are adorable, and the backgrounds are lush and quite lovely, especially the purplish sky in the two-page spread in which Bambi counts while Thumper runs off to hide. All told, the book features 14 pictures spread across two pages as well as one final illustration on a single page.
I’m not sure if this is an oddity of the copy I got or if it’s across the board, but while for the most part, the colors are very bright, the second spread is washed out, with Bambi particularly looking pale and almost ghostly compared to the robust browns on the rest of the pages. That small complaint aside, however, Bambi’s Hide and Seek is a vibrant book with a simple narrative that can draw young children in and perhaps inspire them to play a game of their own.
This Super Early book is designed for children who are just taking the first steps in getting used to the written word. Illustrator Isidre Mones is responsible for the bulk of the story, while Andrea Posner-Sanchez provides the simple words to which children can respond. In some cases, it’s only one or two words per page, while some pages include up to two sentences of several words each.
Many of these are repetitive; the bulk of the story involves Bambi looking for Thumper, and each time he finds another creature instead, we see the words “That is not Thumper!” or “You are not Thumper!” There’s a definite rhythm to the story as Bambi discovers a new potential hiding spot, unearths another animal and realizes that Thumper is someplace else. The format is very similar to the Eric Hill book Where’s Spot?, but that is a lift-the-flap book and this isn’t. In fact, flaps would have been a fun way to make this book more interactive, but then it wouldn’t have fit in with the Step Into Reading Series.
I’ve never seen a Bambi book with hokey illustrations; it seems this natural setting inspires greater artistry. While Bambi, Thumper and the other forest creatures are not quite as detailed as they are in the movie or the Disney Bunnies line of books about Thumper, they are adorable, and the backgrounds are lush and quite lovely, especially the purplish sky in the two-page spread in which Bambi counts while Thumper runs off to hide. All told, the book features 14 pictures spread across two pages as well as one final illustration on a single page.
I’m not sure if this is an oddity of the copy I got or if it’s across the board, but while for the most part, the colors are very bright, the second spread is washed out, with Bambi particularly looking pale and almost ghostly compared to the robust browns on the rest of the pages. That small complaint aside, however, Bambi’s Hide and Seek is a vibrant book with a simple narrative that can draw young children in and perhaps inspire them to play a game of their own.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Michael Buble Creates a Classic Christmas Album
I’ve been vaguely aware of Canadian crooner Michael Bublé for several years, but it wasn’t until I discovered his exuberant Haven’t Met You Yet
last year that I really became a fan. When I heard he was releasing a
solo album, I was quite excited to hear what he would come up with, and
the David Foster-produced Christmas is just as fun as I hoped it would be.
The album includes plenty of classic standards, starting off with It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas, which isn’t recognizable as such until half a minute in because of the lush instrumental introduction. From there on, it’s a smooth, straightforward rendition that sounds like it could have been recorded in the 1950s. The most interesting variation here is the slight uplift on the second syllable in “Christmas” toward the end of the song. Holly Jolly Christmas is similarly traditional and upbeat with a fun guitar solo in the middle making me feel like getting up and dancing like the kids in A Charlie Brown Christmas.
The Puppini Sisters join Michael for a rather annoying version of Jingle Bells. It’s similar to the Bing Crosby / Andrews Sisters rendition that always makes me cringe a little when it comes on the radio. I’m not sure why it bugs me so much; I just find some of the women’s harmonic contributions grating, and that’s the same here. Lots of scatting that just starts to sound cacophonous. It’s a very energetic track, and some will probably find it very entertaining, but I’m not a big fan. Michael has another guest on Mis Deseos/Feliz Navidad, with Thalía joining him for a mostly-Spanish song. This guitar-heavy track is a lot of fun, even when I have no idea what they are saying. The chorus of joyful voices that joining toward the end adds to an already harmonious merger.
Santa Claus Is Coming to Town is nice and jazzy with a brassy, big band-style instrumental break partway through. The steady percussion and bass gives the remainder of the song a lounge quality that is enjoyable and distinct. His spoken line toward the end about “the big fat man with the long white beard” is especially fun. Speaking of the big guy with the beard, he’s the addressee in Santa Baby, one of my least favorite songs this time of year because of the unbridled avarice that is Christmas materialism at its most galling. That said, Michael’s version is a lot less irritating than, say, Madonna’s, which always makes me roll my eyes. This one is so slow and quiet, with few of the obnoxious inflections typical to this song. I also like some of the lyrical changes, such as calling Santa “buddy” and “dude” and requesting Canucks tickets.
Michael’s rendition of White Christmas seems to have been modeled after the Drifters version, which was featured in Home Alone. Shania Twain joins him for this peppy, doo-woppy track. This is a song that usually comes across as sentimental and rather woebegone, but there’s none of that sense here until perhaps the very end. The brass and pounding drums make it sound like this is a parade coming through town to announce that snow is on the way just because the majority demands it. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, on the other hand, sounds just as wistful as when Judy Garland sang it. Violins are particularly prominent here, while guitar is just as effective at conveying heartache in I'll Be Home for Christmas, which starts off drenched in despairing homesickness but sounds much more optimistic on the second repetition.
It’s no surprise that Michael would tap into the subgenre of romantic Christmas songs here, and I really like his mostly low-key take on All I Want for Christmas Is You. Backed by piano, he sounds quiet and sincere, and the outburst late in the song feels genuinely emotional. In most versions of this song, I’m a bit worn out by the exuberance by this point, especially since the lyrics are so plaintive. He really does sound mildly melancholy – lonely without the one he loves but optimistic that she will appear soon. Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) has the typical mix of anguish and pep. The jingle bells, electric guitar and backing vocals add to the energy of the track, which he sings the heck out of. I also find it fun that the backers echo the Beatles’ “love, love, love” chorus that Michael used in Haven’t Met You Yet. Blue Christmas sounds a bit odd with the clanging tambourine and the ostentatious brass section, and with him whooping and hollering in the background during the instrumental portions, he sure doesn’t sound blue to me. Maybe he’s trying to sound sarcastic? An interesting track, but it doesn’t quite do it for me.
My favorite Christmas albums tend to be those with a hearty mix of sacred and secular songs. This album features only two spiritual songs, and as the first one doesn’t show up until the tenth track, by the time I got to it the first time around, I figured that Michael must have decided to stick with the Santa side of Christmas, along with the cozy domestic end of it. Perhaps the album would feel a bit more balanced if Silent Night had been a few tracks earlier. It’s a lovely, reverent version, mostly because of the children’s choir, but it seems very strange to encounter it after nine tracks that don’t mention Jesus at all. The other track is Ave Maria, which is mostly about Mary and is in Latin. This song seems to be best tackled by those with operatic voices, but Michael does a nice job with it, and the austere chorus in the background is especially nice. While the fact that there are only two makes them seem a tad perfunctory, he does pull out all the stops with the production here.
Cold December Night is the only original track on the album, and it’s along the lines of All I Want for Christmas and all those other songs about romantic Yuletide proposals. It’s an upbeat song, so the implication I get is that he thinks he has a pretty decent shot of being accepted, though “fall in love with me” suggests that at this point, he is probably more invested in the possibility of romance than she is. In any case, it’s a chipper way to put his personal stamp on the album, which he also does at the very end with a five-second-long spoken “Merry Christmas” message.
While there are a couple tracks that haven’t entirely won me over yet, this is a nice album and precisely the sort of thing I would expect to hear from Michael Bublé. In the acknowledgments, he talks about how Christmas is his favorite time of year and how he wanted this album to be a throwback to the days of the crooners, particularly Bing Crosby, whose Christmas music so inspired him as a kid. Although this album includes a few fairly contemporary songs, it has a very old-school feel, so it should be warmly welcomed by those who fill their Christmas turntables with the likes of Bing, Frank Sinatra, Andy Williams and Johnny Mathis. With Michael Bublé’s Christmas, it feels like we’ve stepped back in time, and it’s a very pleasant trip.
The album includes plenty of classic standards, starting off with It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas, which isn’t recognizable as such until half a minute in because of the lush instrumental introduction. From there on, it’s a smooth, straightforward rendition that sounds like it could have been recorded in the 1950s. The most interesting variation here is the slight uplift on the second syllable in “Christmas” toward the end of the song. Holly Jolly Christmas is similarly traditional and upbeat with a fun guitar solo in the middle making me feel like getting up and dancing like the kids in A Charlie Brown Christmas.
The Puppini Sisters join Michael for a rather annoying version of Jingle Bells. It’s similar to the Bing Crosby / Andrews Sisters rendition that always makes me cringe a little when it comes on the radio. I’m not sure why it bugs me so much; I just find some of the women’s harmonic contributions grating, and that’s the same here. Lots of scatting that just starts to sound cacophonous. It’s a very energetic track, and some will probably find it very entertaining, but I’m not a big fan. Michael has another guest on Mis Deseos/Feliz Navidad, with Thalía joining him for a mostly-Spanish song. This guitar-heavy track is a lot of fun, even when I have no idea what they are saying. The chorus of joyful voices that joining toward the end adds to an already harmonious merger.
Santa Claus Is Coming to Town is nice and jazzy with a brassy, big band-style instrumental break partway through. The steady percussion and bass gives the remainder of the song a lounge quality that is enjoyable and distinct. His spoken line toward the end about “the big fat man with the long white beard” is especially fun. Speaking of the big guy with the beard, he’s the addressee in Santa Baby, one of my least favorite songs this time of year because of the unbridled avarice that is Christmas materialism at its most galling. That said, Michael’s version is a lot less irritating than, say, Madonna’s, which always makes me roll my eyes. This one is so slow and quiet, with few of the obnoxious inflections typical to this song. I also like some of the lyrical changes, such as calling Santa “buddy” and “dude” and requesting Canucks tickets.
Michael’s rendition of White Christmas seems to have been modeled after the Drifters version, which was featured in Home Alone. Shania Twain joins him for this peppy, doo-woppy track. This is a song that usually comes across as sentimental and rather woebegone, but there’s none of that sense here until perhaps the very end. The brass and pounding drums make it sound like this is a parade coming through town to announce that snow is on the way just because the majority demands it. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, on the other hand, sounds just as wistful as when Judy Garland sang it. Violins are particularly prominent here, while guitar is just as effective at conveying heartache in I'll Be Home for Christmas, which starts off drenched in despairing homesickness but sounds much more optimistic on the second repetition.
It’s no surprise that Michael would tap into the subgenre of romantic Christmas songs here, and I really like his mostly low-key take on All I Want for Christmas Is You. Backed by piano, he sounds quiet and sincere, and the outburst late in the song feels genuinely emotional. In most versions of this song, I’m a bit worn out by the exuberance by this point, especially since the lyrics are so plaintive. He really does sound mildly melancholy – lonely without the one he loves but optimistic that she will appear soon. Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) has the typical mix of anguish and pep. The jingle bells, electric guitar and backing vocals add to the energy of the track, which he sings the heck out of. I also find it fun that the backers echo the Beatles’ “love, love, love” chorus that Michael used in Haven’t Met You Yet. Blue Christmas sounds a bit odd with the clanging tambourine and the ostentatious brass section, and with him whooping and hollering in the background during the instrumental portions, he sure doesn’t sound blue to me. Maybe he’s trying to sound sarcastic? An interesting track, but it doesn’t quite do it for me.
My favorite Christmas albums tend to be those with a hearty mix of sacred and secular songs. This album features only two spiritual songs, and as the first one doesn’t show up until the tenth track, by the time I got to it the first time around, I figured that Michael must have decided to stick with the Santa side of Christmas, along with the cozy domestic end of it. Perhaps the album would feel a bit more balanced if Silent Night had been a few tracks earlier. It’s a lovely, reverent version, mostly because of the children’s choir, but it seems very strange to encounter it after nine tracks that don’t mention Jesus at all. The other track is Ave Maria, which is mostly about Mary and is in Latin. This song seems to be best tackled by those with operatic voices, but Michael does a nice job with it, and the austere chorus in the background is especially nice. While the fact that there are only two makes them seem a tad perfunctory, he does pull out all the stops with the production here.
Cold December Night is the only original track on the album, and it’s along the lines of All I Want for Christmas and all those other songs about romantic Yuletide proposals. It’s an upbeat song, so the implication I get is that he thinks he has a pretty decent shot of being accepted, though “fall in love with me” suggests that at this point, he is probably more invested in the possibility of romance than she is. In any case, it’s a chipper way to put his personal stamp on the album, which he also does at the very end with a five-second-long spoken “Merry Christmas” message.
While there are a couple tracks that haven’t entirely won me over yet, this is a nice album and precisely the sort of thing I would expect to hear from Michael Bublé. In the acknowledgments, he talks about how Christmas is his favorite time of year and how he wanted this album to be a throwback to the days of the crooners, particularly Bing Crosby, whose Christmas music so inspired him as a kid. Although this album includes a few fairly contemporary songs, it has a very old-school feel, so it should be warmly welcomed by those who fill their Christmas turntables with the likes of Bing, Frank Sinatra, Andy Williams and Johnny Mathis. With Michael Bublé’s Christmas, it feels like we’ve stepped back in time, and it’s a very pleasant trip.
Contemporary Artists Take on the Muppets in The Green Album
This Thanksgiving, the Muppets will burst into theaters for the first
time in years. It’s a joyous occasion for folks like me who are so fond
of Kermit and his chums. In the past couple of years, we’ve seen
concentrated efforts to put the Muppets, now a Disney property, more
firmly back into the collective consciousness. Expertly executed viral
videos have been the primary means of restoring the Muppets to their
former glory and demonstrating that they have as much to offer adults as
they do kids.
One of the last great pre-movie efforts is The Green Album, a collection of Muppet covers by modern musicians. As I’ve never been much for contemporary music, my familiarity level is pretty low, but this album has the capacity to reach thousands of fans of each of these singers or groups, and even those who don’t know any of the specific artists involved might be curious enough to investigate. It’s a hip experiment that transcends genres, which is kinda what the Muppets themselves are, so it’s quite fitting.
Muppet Show Theme Song - This song, instantly recognizable to anyone who ever saw the Muppets’ variety show, is performed by OK GO, and it’s trippy. Starting with the series of melodious beeps that seem to be designed primarily for dogs’ ears, this band gives us a version of the song that is inventive but not particularly pleasant to listen to. Still, it’s obvious they’re having a lot of fun, and that’s doubly true when you watch the video.
Rainbow Connection - I prefer this track, which starts off with gentle harp accompaniment and birdsong as Weezer’s lead singer slowly sings Kermit’s iconic meditation. Hayley Williams takes over in the second verse, and her rendition is equally heartfelt as the banjo moves into prominence. The two harmonize on the bridge and for the rest of the song, and the result is very pleasing, though I prefer the soft accompaniment of the beginning to the electrified rock sound of the almost-end. The very end winds down with an echoey piano rendition of the chorus that hearkens back to the opening.
Mahna Mahna - This nonsensical song performed by The Fray is pure fun and silliness, as it always has been. The “doo doo doo doo doo”s sound virtually identical, as does the steady percussion. The piano and clapping add a bit of a different flavor, as does the slightly reworked scatting of the beatnik main character.
Movin’ Right Along - Alkaline Trio, a band I’d never heard of before, takes on this Muppet Movie road trip anthem. It’s very heavy on the electric guitar with a bit of piano here and there; there’s definitely a hard rock sound to it. It captures a sense of exuberance and adventure, and the banter makes it extra fun, though it’s a bit too electric for my tastes.
Our World - I’m pretty sure I never heard this song before, but I like it. With the banjo, synthesizer and lovely harmonies, My Morning Jacket presents a song of optimism, singing about all that is good in the world and expressing hope that it is changing for the better. I especially like the heartening “Some say our world is getting too small; I say, with kindness there’s room for us all.” A very nice track that exemplifies Jim Henson’s ideals.
Halfway Down the Stairs - Amy Lee, another artist unfamiliar to me, gives this simple song, performed by Robin and based on an A. A. Milne poem, a rather eerie flavor. I could do with a little less of a techno-ish sound, but her voice is quite lovely, and it still seems like a sweet assertion of finding one’s own place in the world.
Mr. Bassman - This Electric Mayhem song featuring Scooter as an eager fan gets a fun rendition here thanks to Sondre Lerche. I love the plucky bass strumming throughout, particularly at the beginning and end; I’m not wild about the electrified middle portion, but I still like the singer’s enthusiastic tone, which is well suited to Scooter’s excitement. Very peppy.
Wishing Song - In this case, I’m pretty sure I have never heard the song or the performer before. The Airborne Toxic Event sings the song with an angsty edge, and there’s so much distortion at play that it’s hard to understand what they’re singing half the time, but when the words are clear they are nice, and the song comes across as sincere, first bemoaning what is missing from the speaker’s life, then celebrating what is present.
Night Life - This Great Muppet Caper song is performed by Billy Martin and Brandon Saller of the band Atreyu; I’ve never heard of either, but if Saller is in a band named after a character in The Never-Ending Story, his presence here seems to make sense. Honestly, this is probably my least favorite track because it’s just so loud. At one point, one of the guys says, “Hey, you don’t have to play so loud,” and I was really hoping it might quiet down a bit after that, but no dice. I do, however, enjoy the extended drum solo toward the end.
Bein’ Green - Andrew Green, yet another artist unfamiliar to me, takes on Kermit’s other most iconic song, and like Rainbow Connection, it’s mellow and melodious. The mild percussion and banjo are well suited to his reflective vocals that ramble easily over the lyrics. I think my favorite part of the song is when he whistles to the accompaniment of fiddle and banjo. Tied with Rainbow Connection for my favorite track.
I Hope That Somethin’ Better Comes Along - This piano-heavy Kermit and Rowlf song about romantic aspirations gets a nice legato treatment by Matt Nathanson. I’ve never heard of him either, but I really like this rendition. His voice has a pleasant tone to It and, backed by that piano and softly ooh-ing voices, sounds very nice indeed.
I’m Going to Go Back There Someday - Rachael Yamagata get the final track on the album, which is a meditative song from Gonzo as he wonders about his origins. There’s some beautiful back-up harmony here, and the instruments have an appropriately celestial sound to them. I especially like the flute solo toward the end. Again, I’m not familiar with Yamagata, but she has a husky, haunting voice that is well suited to the soul-searching theme of this song.
In most cases, I would much prefer to just listen to the original versions of these songs, but it’s fun to see what modern musicians have chosen to do with these songs. Hopefully, those who are more inclined to enjoy contemporary music will be drawn in by the list of artists but impressed enough to check out the original versions and fall in love with the Muppets all over again – or even for the very first time.
One of the last great pre-movie efforts is The Green Album, a collection of Muppet covers by modern musicians. As I’ve never been much for contemporary music, my familiarity level is pretty low, but this album has the capacity to reach thousands of fans of each of these singers or groups, and even those who don’t know any of the specific artists involved might be curious enough to investigate. It’s a hip experiment that transcends genres, which is kinda what the Muppets themselves are, so it’s quite fitting.
Muppet Show Theme Song - This song, instantly recognizable to anyone who ever saw the Muppets’ variety show, is performed by OK GO, and it’s trippy. Starting with the series of melodious beeps that seem to be designed primarily for dogs’ ears, this band gives us a version of the song that is inventive but not particularly pleasant to listen to. Still, it’s obvious they’re having a lot of fun, and that’s doubly true when you watch the video.
Rainbow Connection - I prefer this track, which starts off with gentle harp accompaniment and birdsong as Weezer’s lead singer slowly sings Kermit’s iconic meditation. Hayley Williams takes over in the second verse, and her rendition is equally heartfelt as the banjo moves into prominence. The two harmonize on the bridge and for the rest of the song, and the result is very pleasing, though I prefer the soft accompaniment of the beginning to the electrified rock sound of the almost-end. The very end winds down with an echoey piano rendition of the chorus that hearkens back to the opening.
Mahna Mahna - This nonsensical song performed by The Fray is pure fun and silliness, as it always has been. The “doo doo doo doo doo”s sound virtually identical, as does the steady percussion. The piano and clapping add a bit of a different flavor, as does the slightly reworked scatting of the beatnik main character.
Movin’ Right Along - Alkaline Trio, a band I’d never heard of before, takes on this Muppet Movie road trip anthem. It’s very heavy on the electric guitar with a bit of piano here and there; there’s definitely a hard rock sound to it. It captures a sense of exuberance and adventure, and the banter makes it extra fun, though it’s a bit too electric for my tastes.
Our World - I’m pretty sure I never heard this song before, but I like it. With the banjo, synthesizer and lovely harmonies, My Morning Jacket presents a song of optimism, singing about all that is good in the world and expressing hope that it is changing for the better. I especially like the heartening “Some say our world is getting too small; I say, with kindness there’s room for us all.” A very nice track that exemplifies Jim Henson’s ideals.
Halfway Down the Stairs - Amy Lee, another artist unfamiliar to me, gives this simple song, performed by Robin and based on an A. A. Milne poem, a rather eerie flavor. I could do with a little less of a techno-ish sound, but her voice is quite lovely, and it still seems like a sweet assertion of finding one’s own place in the world.
Mr. Bassman - This Electric Mayhem song featuring Scooter as an eager fan gets a fun rendition here thanks to Sondre Lerche. I love the plucky bass strumming throughout, particularly at the beginning and end; I’m not wild about the electrified middle portion, but I still like the singer’s enthusiastic tone, which is well suited to Scooter’s excitement. Very peppy.
Wishing Song - In this case, I’m pretty sure I have never heard the song or the performer before. The Airborne Toxic Event sings the song with an angsty edge, and there’s so much distortion at play that it’s hard to understand what they’re singing half the time, but when the words are clear they are nice, and the song comes across as sincere, first bemoaning what is missing from the speaker’s life, then celebrating what is present.
Night Life - This Great Muppet Caper song is performed by Billy Martin and Brandon Saller of the band Atreyu; I’ve never heard of either, but if Saller is in a band named after a character in The Never-Ending Story, his presence here seems to make sense. Honestly, this is probably my least favorite track because it’s just so loud. At one point, one of the guys says, “Hey, you don’t have to play so loud,” and I was really hoping it might quiet down a bit after that, but no dice. I do, however, enjoy the extended drum solo toward the end.
Bein’ Green - Andrew Green, yet another artist unfamiliar to me, takes on Kermit’s other most iconic song, and like Rainbow Connection, it’s mellow and melodious. The mild percussion and banjo are well suited to his reflective vocals that ramble easily over the lyrics. I think my favorite part of the song is when he whistles to the accompaniment of fiddle and banjo. Tied with Rainbow Connection for my favorite track.
I Hope That Somethin’ Better Comes Along - This piano-heavy Kermit and Rowlf song about romantic aspirations gets a nice legato treatment by Matt Nathanson. I’ve never heard of him either, but I really like this rendition. His voice has a pleasant tone to It and, backed by that piano and softly ooh-ing voices, sounds very nice indeed.
I’m Going to Go Back There Someday - Rachael Yamagata get the final track on the album, which is a meditative song from Gonzo as he wonders about his origins. There’s some beautiful back-up harmony here, and the instruments have an appropriately celestial sound to them. I especially like the flute solo toward the end. Again, I’m not familiar with Yamagata, but she has a husky, haunting voice that is well suited to the soul-searching theme of this song.
In most cases, I would much prefer to just listen to the original versions of these songs, but it’s fun to see what modern musicians have chosen to do with these songs. Hopefully, those who are more inclined to enjoy contemporary music will be drawn in by the list of artists but impressed enough to check out the original versions and fall in love with the Muppets all over again – or even for the very first time.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
The Cowboy's Christmas Isn't Western But Is Well-Mannered
I have always gravitated toward the cowboy lifestyle, so I was intrigued when I happened upon the picture book The Cowboy’s Christmas
by Joan Walsh Anglund, who tends to stick more with poetry in most of
her books. While the title character certainly looks like a little
cowboy, I was rather disappointed to find that nothing he does in the
book is particularly cowboyish. Nonetheless, this is a cute Christmas
book encouraging children to be on their best behavior as Christmas
approaches.
This is a very simple book about a cowboy who is “Especially Busy” getting ready for Christmas. Those words are two of several that are capitalized for emphasis. Like many of Anglund’s books, this one has only about one sentence on each page. It’s about half the size of a typical picture book but nearly twice the size as Anglund’s tiny gift books, so it feels fairly spacious despite its small size.
As I was reading this for the first time, it became apparent to me that it was part of a series. I have not read any of Anglund’s other cowboy books, and I think it would be helpful to read at least the first one, as that apparently establishes this character as a bit of a troublemaker. The cowboy’s actions are meant to seem extraordinary because readers already know him as a scallywag. However, nothing he does in this book suggests that, and if it weren’t for the way the text was worded, I would have no reason to suspect that he is anything other than perfectly well-mannered.
This book does not provide any information about the bear, either. Where did he come from? How did they meet? Is he visible to everyone or just the cowboy? It’s really not clear. I do find the color scheme of this book interesting, though. While the cowboy and most of the background objects are black, the bear, the mice and a few other page elements are red. It’s only the two colors, so it’s pretty drab, but the stark contrast is interesting.
Because the cowboy’s darker past is only hinted at here, there’s not much dramatic tension to be found. Instead, it’s just a straightforward account of someone getting ready for Christmas. Given his diminutive height and the typical baby face that Anglund gives him, he definitely seems to be a child, but he also lives all alone, at least without human supervision. He does share his house with a jumbo-sized bear and a family of mice. Still, he comes across as an interesting sort of kid-adult hybrid.
The Cowboy’s Christmas was published in 1972, and it looks older than that. The red and black color scheme more than anything else is what makes it seem like a product of an earlier part of the century; the capitalized words seem quaint too. It’s a good sort of nostalgia, which is something you could say about most of Anglund’s books. While it would have been nice if this book had more of a western flavor to it, the cowboy’s determination to extend goodwill to others makes for a most agreeable tale.
This is a very simple book about a cowboy who is “Especially Busy” getting ready for Christmas. Those words are two of several that are capitalized for emphasis. Like many of Anglund’s books, this one has only about one sentence on each page. It’s about half the size of a typical picture book but nearly twice the size as Anglund’s tiny gift books, so it feels fairly spacious despite its small size.
As I was reading this for the first time, it became apparent to me that it was part of a series. I have not read any of Anglund’s other cowboy books, and I think it would be helpful to read at least the first one, as that apparently establishes this character as a bit of a troublemaker. The cowboy’s actions are meant to seem extraordinary because readers already know him as a scallywag. However, nothing he does in this book suggests that, and if it weren’t for the way the text was worded, I would have no reason to suspect that he is anything other than perfectly well-mannered.
This book does not provide any information about the bear, either. Where did he come from? How did they meet? Is he visible to everyone or just the cowboy? It’s really not clear. I do find the color scheme of this book interesting, though. While the cowboy and most of the background objects are black, the bear, the mice and a few other page elements are red. It’s only the two colors, so it’s pretty drab, but the stark contrast is interesting.
Because the cowboy’s darker past is only hinted at here, there’s not much dramatic tension to be found. Instead, it’s just a straightforward account of someone getting ready for Christmas. Given his diminutive height and the typical baby face that Anglund gives him, he definitely seems to be a child, but he also lives all alone, at least without human supervision. He does share his house with a jumbo-sized bear and a family of mice. Still, he comes across as an interesting sort of kid-adult hybrid.
The Cowboy’s Christmas was published in 1972, and it looks older than that. The red and black color scheme more than anything else is what makes it seem like a product of an earlier part of the century; the capitalized words seem quaint too. It’s a good sort of nostalgia, which is something you could say about most of Anglund’s books. While it would have been nice if this book had more of a western flavor to it, the cowboy’s determination to extend goodwill to others makes for a most agreeable tale.
Soak in Some Irish Disney Magic With Darby O'Gill and the Little People
March is usually my big month for watching Irish movies, but when it occurred to me that I had never reviewed Darby O’Gill and the Little People,
I decided I needed to watch that 1959 classic again as a part of my
autumn Disney immersion. This largely comedic movie written by Lawrence
Watkin and based on the stories of H. T. Kavanagh was directed by Robert
Stevenson, the man at the helm of many of Disney’s most notable movies,
including Mary Poppins.
It’s a movie in which Walt Disney took special interest; the DVD includes a nearly hour-long featurette in which he journeys to Ireland to meet Darby O’Gill and make the acquaintance of Brian, the leprechaun king, who agrees to participate in the filming and get the rest of the wee folk involved as well. The beginning of the movie even includes a special acknowledgment from Walt thanking Brian for his cooperation, without which the movie would not have been possible. That, coupled with the excellent use of forced perspective that would come to be such an integral part of the Lord of the Rings trilogy decades later, gives the movie a charming air of authenticity. It really seems as though those leprechauns could be the real deal.
This movie is mostly a battle of wills between Darby (Albert Sharpe), a crusty old codger who has just (rather rightfully) been forced into retirement, and King Brian (Jimmy O’Dea), the leprechaun monarch. Both men are clever, and each has a healthy respect for the other, even as they plot ways to outwit each other. Darby is always after the three wishes that King Brian must grant if he is captured, but the wily king has no shortage of loopholes to keep his old friend from cashing in. On the other hand, they’ve developed such a rapport that Brian tries to retire Darby to the leprechaun kingdom, while the old man just wants to get home to his daughter and see her happily married off. Observing these two is like watching an expert tennis match, and it’s a thrill to see what devilish trickery will come to the forefront next.
While the twinkly-eyed Sharpe, the perfect picture of an old Irish pub denizen, is really the star of the show here, O’Dea puts in a mostly-dignified performance as the eternally middle-aged king, and dozens of uncredited actors and actresses make up the thriving population of leprechauns. While not all of the effects in this movie are terribly sophisticated – the banshee, for instance, looks pretty hokey to me, yet it still manages to be utterly terrifying – they really pull off the illusion of tininess remarkably well. These magical beings inhabit a glittery realm unseen by human eyes, and one can’t help thinking that Darby would at least want to stay and feast his eyes and ears on all its glory for a while before concocting a plan to escape.
Naturally, great folk music is in abundance, particularly since Darby plays a mean fiddle. I wouldn’t call this a musical, but there is one song that we hear a couple of times, and it’s noteworthy because it is sung by Sean Connery in one of his earliest film roles. Connery plays Michael McBride, a handsome young man who has come to take over Darby’s caretaker duties. In the process, he falls for Darby’s spirited daughter Katie (Janet Munro), who seems to think he‘s pretty easy on the eyes but sees him as a threat to her father’s happiness. While these four are the main characters, various pub regulars are significant as well, particularly the parish priest, who likes Darby but doesn’t entirely approve of his obsession with ancient superstitions, and Pony, an arrogant Gaston-like golden boy whose witchy mother is desperate to hook him up with Katie. The pub scenes actually made me think a lot of Beauty and the Beast, but Darby is more respected than Maurice and Pony is not as widely admired as Gaston.
Despite the fact that the Irish side of my family has been in America for generations, I strongly identify with my Irish heritage, and it tickled me immensely to hear Katie reference the McCartys as neighbors toward the end of the movie. I got a thrill again during I Captured the King of the Leprechauns when Pat O’Brien mentions the McCartys to Walt Disney as having a family banshee. This little black-and-white globe-trotting adventure would be a delight to watch without the name connection; Walt just looks like he’s having such fun, and the twinkle in his eye is quite as pronounced as the one in Sharpe’s. The other features are worth a look as well, discussing the making and reception of the movie. I found it especially interesting to hear Connery discuss the impact the film had on his career.
While Darby O’Gill and the Little People is ideal for St. Patrick’s Day viewing, there’s no reason to wait until March to pop this in the DVD player. If Irish blood runs in your veins or you’ve ever caught yourself wishing it did, this is a wonderful marriage of Disney magic and Irish enchantment.
It’s a movie in which Walt Disney took special interest; the DVD includes a nearly hour-long featurette in which he journeys to Ireland to meet Darby O’Gill and make the acquaintance of Brian, the leprechaun king, who agrees to participate in the filming and get the rest of the wee folk involved as well. The beginning of the movie even includes a special acknowledgment from Walt thanking Brian for his cooperation, without which the movie would not have been possible. That, coupled with the excellent use of forced perspective that would come to be such an integral part of the Lord of the Rings trilogy decades later, gives the movie a charming air of authenticity. It really seems as though those leprechauns could be the real deal.
This movie is mostly a battle of wills between Darby (Albert Sharpe), a crusty old codger who has just (rather rightfully) been forced into retirement, and King Brian (Jimmy O’Dea), the leprechaun monarch. Both men are clever, and each has a healthy respect for the other, even as they plot ways to outwit each other. Darby is always after the three wishes that King Brian must grant if he is captured, but the wily king has no shortage of loopholes to keep his old friend from cashing in. On the other hand, they’ve developed such a rapport that Brian tries to retire Darby to the leprechaun kingdom, while the old man just wants to get home to his daughter and see her happily married off. Observing these two is like watching an expert tennis match, and it’s a thrill to see what devilish trickery will come to the forefront next.
While the twinkly-eyed Sharpe, the perfect picture of an old Irish pub denizen, is really the star of the show here, O’Dea puts in a mostly-dignified performance as the eternally middle-aged king, and dozens of uncredited actors and actresses make up the thriving population of leprechauns. While not all of the effects in this movie are terribly sophisticated – the banshee, for instance, looks pretty hokey to me, yet it still manages to be utterly terrifying – they really pull off the illusion of tininess remarkably well. These magical beings inhabit a glittery realm unseen by human eyes, and one can’t help thinking that Darby would at least want to stay and feast his eyes and ears on all its glory for a while before concocting a plan to escape.
Naturally, great folk music is in abundance, particularly since Darby plays a mean fiddle. I wouldn’t call this a musical, but there is one song that we hear a couple of times, and it’s noteworthy because it is sung by Sean Connery in one of his earliest film roles. Connery plays Michael McBride, a handsome young man who has come to take over Darby’s caretaker duties. In the process, he falls for Darby’s spirited daughter Katie (Janet Munro), who seems to think he‘s pretty easy on the eyes but sees him as a threat to her father’s happiness. While these four are the main characters, various pub regulars are significant as well, particularly the parish priest, who likes Darby but doesn’t entirely approve of his obsession with ancient superstitions, and Pony, an arrogant Gaston-like golden boy whose witchy mother is desperate to hook him up with Katie. The pub scenes actually made me think a lot of Beauty and the Beast, but Darby is more respected than Maurice and Pony is not as widely admired as Gaston.
Despite the fact that the Irish side of my family has been in America for generations, I strongly identify with my Irish heritage, and it tickled me immensely to hear Katie reference the McCartys as neighbors toward the end of the movie. I got a thrill again during I Captured the King of the Leprechauns when Pat O’Brien mentions the McCartys to Walt Disney as having a family banshee. This little black-and-white globe-trotting adventure would be a delight to watch without the name connection; Walt just looks like he’s having such fun, and the twinkle in his eye is quite as pronounced as the one in Sharpe’s. The other features are worth a look as well, discussing the making and reception of the movie. I found it especially interesting to hear Connery discuss the impact the film had on his career.
While Darby O’Gill and the Little People is ideal for St. Patrick’s Day viewing, there’s no reason to wait until March to pop this in the DVD player. If Irish blood runs in your veins or you’ve ever caught yourself wishing it did, this is a wonderful marriage of Disney magic and Irish enchantment.
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