1989's Polly Injects Fresh Life Into a Classic Tale

My mom and boyfriend both count Disney’s Pollyanna among their favorite movies, and while I enjoy that sunny Hayley Mills classic, I fell in love with the perpetually optimistic orphan through another route. When I was around 10, my aunt sent us a few movies she’d taped off of television, one of which was the made-for-TV Disney movie Polly, released in 1989 and moving the setting up to the 1950s. This lively remake features Keshia Knight Pulliam and Phylicia Rashad, then starring as Rudy and Clair Huxtable on The Cosby Show, as the free-spirited Polly and her restrictive aunt of the same name.

As will happen with movies taped off of TV, the video went bad years ago, and Disney never made it available for purchase… until very recently. My friend Libbie, recalling my past praises of the movie, bought it a couple months ago, eager to share this beloved movie from my childhood with me, as well as her niece. We watched it together at her house, and then I borrowed it to watch with Mom and Will. Seeing it again after all these years was a joyful experience.

Like Rudy Huxtable, Pulliam’s Polly is a little spitfire, more tomboyish and less demure than Mills’ Pollyanna. She has an impish grin and can’t help putting a little ‘tude into her conversations, especially when she is dealing with a particularly stubborn person. The one exception to that is her severe aunt, to whom she is quietly respectful, though she does gently prod her in the direction of a more liberated way of living. Polly has a gift for seeing the good in every situation and individual, part of the legacy left to her by her father. She has a knack for lighting up places where darkness has come to dwell, so her presence in a town cowering under her aunt’s thumb is a refreshing game-changer.

In addition to giving this tale a more modern setting, director Debbie Allen and writer William Blinn give it a deeper impact by segregating the Alabama town of Harrington and making young Polly the means to integration. Celeste Holm is the cantankerous but secretly sweet Miss Snow, a name that is particularly appropriate here since she is generally considered the white version of the elder Polly, known to most of the townsfolk as Miss Harrington. She resides on the other side of a creek that was briefly covered by a bridge, but it burned down under mysterious circumstances shortly after it was built, deepening the divide between the two segments of town. Pollyanna already satisfies my deep longing for redemption stories, but the added dose of reconciliation makes this version especially powerful to me.

Rashad provides narration at the beginning and end, explaining that this is the story of a child who helped to build a bridge. The warmth in her voice allows us a foretaste of the thawing that occurs as the movie progresses. Though her demeanor is icy, this Polly never comes across as cruel. Instead, it’s apparent that she is someone who has built walls around herself in a gesture of self-preservation. While she speaks sternly to her niece at times, flickers of affection are apparent as well, and her slow return to romance with old beau Dr. Shannon, played with charm and a dazzling smile by Dorian Harewood, is complex and touching.

Aside from Holm, this is a film with an entirely black cast, and the musical numbers are largely reflective of Gospel and rhythm and blues. Several exuberant songs exist mainly for their own sake as the characters bask together in the joy of music, though a few quieter numbers are there primarily for character development.

The voices are great, as well as natural-sounding. I particularly appreciate that Polly is permitted to sing like a little girl, in a soft, sweet voice instead of trying to sound grown-up and glamorous with excessive runs and a brassy tone. Her Rainbow Maker, which she shares with Rashad and Vanessa Bell Calloway as affable maid Nancy, is a melodic treasure that incorporates one of the story’s most memorable elements, the prisms that scatter rainbows across the home of grumpy old Eben Pendergrass, played with dignity and a twinkly eye by Brock Peters. My favorite song, though, is probably the doo-wop number Sweet Little Angel Eyes, which includes wonderful harmonies and fancy footwork and cements Polly’s friendship with mischievous orphan Jimmy Bean (Brandon Quintin Adams).

I’m so happy that this movie is finally available on DVD, albeit exclusively through the Disney Movie Club and Disney Movie Rewards, as well as second-hand sources. Watching it was a delightful blast from the past, and I was excited to learn that the movie had a sequel, Polly Comin’ Home, which I am eager to check out soon. If you loved the 1960 version of Pollyanna, give Polly a try; I have a hunch it will make you just as glad.

It May Come As No Surprise, But Ostriches Are Oddities I Adore

With the exception of small stinging insects, I love animals of all kinds, but there are a few for which I have a special fondness. One of those is the ostrich, which my friend Libbie knows very well, so when she ran across the educational picture book But Ostriches…, written by Aileen Fisher and illustrated by Peter Parnall, she tucked it away to give me for Christmas.

Like many thrift store finds, this is an older book. It hails from 1970 and is black and white except for the cover, which includes variations of green and orange. The pictures are detailed line drawings not only of ostriches but also of many other birds. That’s because this book educates about ostriches by first educating about other types of birds.

Fisher gives examples of actions undertaken by certain birds then follows it with the title words. Some birds fly, but ostriches don’t. Some birds are tiny, but ostriches are huge. Some birds sing, but ostriches are far from melodic. These comparisons are composed through intricate rhymes, and the verse has a punchy, humorous quality to it. I laughed aloud several times on my first read-through. The language is also very lyrical at times, utilizing devices like alliteration and metaphors to create a sense of serenity or excitement.

There’s no set rhyme or rhythm scheme; it changes from page to page. Nonetheless, the writing on each page is expertly crafted, and the variety just adds to the fun of the book. It has often been my experience that verse in books for young children is a bit sloppy, so it makes my soul smile to see picture book poetry that just sings as this does.

For instance, the book begins in the following fashion: “Over the elms / and over the willows, // Over the pools / and ponds and billows, // Over the hills / and heights and hollows // Woodpeckers fly, and gulls, and swallows.” It goes on for another eight lines before we turn a page and learn, “But ostriches / never / can fly at all. / They’re far too big / and their wings / too small.” The book also dispels some bird-brained myths, chiefly: “And they don’t, / by the way, / with danger at hand / go bury their heads / in the sunny sand.”

I was surprised at how much information was jam-packed into this small square book of about 40 pages. It covers method of movement, number of toes, height and weight, nesting habits, eggs, vocalization and suitability as pets, with several pages spent on most topics. In addition to the ostriches, the book specifically mentions woodpeckers, gulls, swallows, orioles, hawks, sparrows, hummingbirds, wrens, linnets, robins, bluejays, crows, frigate birds, eagles, buzzards, herons, owls, whooping cranes, trumpeter swans, flickers, albatrosses, chickens, petrels, loons, larks, grouses, quail, canaries, parrots and mynah birds. Many other birds are referenced generally as part of a group such as songbirds or marshbirds.

I think it would be fun to publish a new edition of the book illustrated with full-color photographs of these fascinating animals. However, Parnall does an excellent job of capturing the beauty and awkwardness of the ostrich and its fellow feather-bearers. If you have a young ornithologist in your life or would just like to learn a bit more about birds yourself, But Ostriches… is a richly informative, intricately written and surprisingly entertaining resource.

Kate Hudson Becomes a Mom Overnight in Raising Helen

On a recent visit to my friend Libbie's house, I arrived right at the beginning of Raising Helen, a 2004 movie that I'd often seen advertised but had never watched. She, on the other hand, had watched it several times and found it very enjoyable, so we decided to watch it together. Directed by Garry Marshall, this lovely little film tells the tale of a free-spirited young woman whose life turns topsy-turvy after her sister and brother-in-law die in a car accident and she learns that her sister wanted her to have custody of their three kids.

Kate Hudson portrays Helen, who agrees to take in the trio. Heroes star Hayden Panettiere plays teenaged Audrey, who hopes her hip aunt will indulge her rebellious streak, while siblings Spencer and Abigail Breslin play Henry, a morbid boy with a pet turtle and a love of basketball, and Sarah, the adorable youngster who projects all her feelings onto her stuffed hippo.

There's a lot of gentle humor in the film as we see Helen struggle to adjust to a new way of life. As the baby of the family, she doesn't have much practice with child-rearing, so she has to wing it, with a little help from her formidable neighbor Nilma (Sakina Jaffrey) and her overbearing sister Jenny (Joan Cusack), who believes she should have guardianship instead.

One neat thing about this movie is seeing actors like Panettiere and Felicity Huffman, who plays Helen's doomed sister Lindsay, before they became television sensations. The film also features Hector Elizondo, who I always have found charming whenever I've encountered him on screen. In addition to the solid cast, it's a very sweet story. While there is an endearing romantic storyline, the most significant relationship development occurs among Helen, Jenny and the three children, whom both of them love dearly.

There were two aspects of this movie that really made me smile. For one thing, the movie takes place largely in Queens, and as soon as the borough was mentioned I got excited because Simon and Garfunkel were raised there, and I hoped that might yield a reference. Much to my delight, a scene near the middle of the film involves a trip to the zoo with the backdrop of my favorite duo's At the Zoo.

Secondly, I am a lifelong Lutheran, and aside from Garrison Keillor's tales on Prairie Home Companion, we tend not to turn up much in media, unassuming folk that we are. Lars and the Real Girl, which beautifully expresses a grace-filled theological viewpoint, is one movie that specifically features Lutherans. This is another. In fact, Helen's love interest, Dan (John Corbett), is a Lutheran pastor.

I'm not sure why it took me so long to catch this movie, but I'm glad I finally did. A sweet film about family and the triumph of love over grief and seemingly impossible obstacles, Raising Helen raised my spirits.

A Big Sleepover Makes a Bigger Mess

I’ve been a VeggieTales fan for nearly two decades now, and while I am most familiar with their videos, I have also enjoyed their books when I run across them. One such book is The Big Sleepover, a book in the Mess Detectives series that my friend Libbie gave me as a gift a while back. Written by Doug Peterson and illustrated by Ron Eddy and Robert Vann, it features narrator Larry the Cucumber and his partner in crime-squashing, Bob the Tomato, as Dragnet-style detectives.

The illustrations in this book veer closer to the style of the main video series than the flatter design found in many of the books. These pictures have vibrant color and depth of shading, and all of the characters look about the way I would expect. My only issue with the pictures is that Larry makes a couple of references to his pet badger’s overly long claws, but the badger in the pictures doesn’t appear to have claws at all. Then again, aside from his changing expressions, he appears to be a stuffed animal, so maybe kids are meant to see the badger as Larry’s favorite toy and attribute any of his actions that Larry describes as mere products of an overactive imagination.

The story is cute, if a bit silly. Madame Blueberry has been babysitting four youngsters who made a horrific mess during their sleepover at her house. One wonders why she didn’t call their parents instead of a detective agency, but then she always has been a bit of a drama queen. Aside from this initial overreaction, she appears surprisingly calm throughout the story. Her concern is not for her broken furniture but rather for the boys’ moral fortitude.

The point of the story is that when you have done something wrong, it’s best to fess up. From there, you can seek forgiveness and look for ways to make up for it. This is a good message, and I like the fact that mercy and forgiveness are so heavily emphasized. None of the adults berates the boys for their mistakes. They simply encourage and reward truthfulness, while suggesting ways to clean up their mess.

The Dragnet spoof aspect is fun, with the punchy wordplay and references to catchphrases from the show, though I wonder if most kids would get that humor. Without the context, I would imagine some of it would fall a bit flat. Of course, that’s always a danger when it comes to parodies. I imagine that the other books have the same sort of devices, so at least there would be consistency within the series.

While I’ve rarely found VeggieTales books to be as effective as the videos, given the lack of silly voices and catchy music and limited opportunity for visual humor, the book works well for the format, and kids who enjoy these characters should have fun seeing Larry and Bob crack a case and spread goodwill.

A Little Help Needs A Little Help

I’m a fan of The Office, particularly the sweetness of couple Jim and Pam, but while I have seen John Krasinski in other roles, I’d never seen Jenna Fischer in anything else. Hence, I was intrigued when my friend Libbie rented A Little Help, the 2010 Michael J. Weithorn movie in which Fischer stars as overwhelmed mom Laura Pehlke.

Fischer brings a darkness to this role that we never see in The Office. When the movie begins, Laura is not a happy person. Her pre-teen son Dennis (newcomer Daniel Yelsky) seems to hate her, and her husband Bob (Chris O’Donnell) is distant. She wants to improve both those relationships, but a few minutes into the movie, Bob dies of an arrhythmia, and she has to learn how to manage as a single mom on shaky financial ground. Just about the only person she can turn to who isn’t trying to run her life for her is her gentle brother-in-law Paul (Rob Benedict), who has loved her since childhood.

This movie is billed as both comedy and drama, but most of the funny moments were too painful for me to laugh at. It’s populated with profoundly miserable people, and bad things keep happening to them. It’s a deeply uncomfortable film, starting with the fact that several scenes take place in the dentist’s office where Laura works. Additionally, it’s set in New York City and begins nearly a year after September 11, 2001, an event central to the film as Dennis, having been forced by his overbearing Aunt Kathy (Brooke Smith) and grandma (Lesley Ann Warren) to attend a new school several towns away, tells his new classmates that his father was a firefighter who saved several people at the World Trade Center before perishing.

It’s a movie filled with broken relationships. The healthiest one we see is that between Paul and his 15-year-old son Kyle (Zach Page), an aspiring musician, and that is threatened by Kathy’s attempts to strong-arm Paul into discouraging Kyle’s music. Interestingly, music not only cements the bond between that father and son, one of Laura’s happiest memories involves singing along to the car radio with Dennis, an activity he usually considers too uncool now.

On the other hand, noise is a consistent source of stress in Laura’s life, from the parrot squawking at the office to the dog constantly barking outside. When Dennis has something he really wants to tell her, he sends her an IM; he’s noticed that she tunes him out along with the rest of it. One of the film’s most powerful moments comes when Dennis releases his neighbor’s dog in an effort to relieve his mother of his incessant barking. Laura runs after the pooch, calling him by name, and he meekly returns to her, whimpering. This seems deeply symbolic of her relationship with her son, whose angst and audacious lies are just his way of reaching out in a world where the person he needs most usually appears indifferent or hostile.

It’s interesting to see Fischer in such a different role, which she occupies well, though it takes most of the movie for Laura to become truly sympathetic. Benedict brings a higher likability factor to Paul, the most endearing character in the movie, but in some ways his story is the most pathetic of all. This is a film about rebuilding broken relationships; none of the three marriages we see is particularly successful, and the parent-child rifts sting. By the end, some measure of healing has begun, but is it enough? Despite touching scenes involving three significant people in Laura’s life, the conclusion, like the rest of the movie, left me feeling empty. I’m not sure if the film failed or if I just wasn’t the right audience, but aside from a few lovely glimmers, A Little Help left me out in the cold.

A Big Story Causes Major Stress in The Paper

When I was in college, I worked on the campus newspaper, first as a staff writer and eventually as the editor of the news section. Since then, I have written regularly for two other newspapers. Hence, I can relate somewhat to the stress exhibited in the 1994 Ron Howard movie The Paper, though none of my stories has had such high stakes as the one main character Henry (Michael Keaton) is trying to break.

This movie, which was written by brothers David and Stephen Koepp, takes place over the course of one very hectic day. Two lower-class black teenagers stand accused of murdering a white businessman. The audience knows it isn’t true, but Henry and his fellow reporters can only guess in pursuit of the truth. It would be easier to assume guilt, but if they can uncover a conspiracy and help clear innocent young men in the process, surely that’s worth the extra hassle, right?

This movie shows all the stresses that go into putting together a daily newspaper and the toll that it takes on the most dedicated reporters. Henry is one of those, a workaholic whose commitment to a newspaper that hasn’t always treated him very well frustrates his wife Martha (Marisa Tomei), a former reporter on the verge of giving birth, though she helps him pursue his story, as does cheerful renegade Michael McDougal (Randy Quaid), despite the displeasure of bulldoggish Alicia Clark (Glenn Close), the second-in-command who just wants to go to press on time since expensive delays could sink the struggling newspaper.

There’s a manic quality to the movie that made it hard for me to follow at first. It’s loaded with characters, many of whom are played by A-list actors. There are also several New York City personalities who turn up as themselves, and Howard’s parents, wife and brother all get cameos. This turns the movie viewing into a fun game of Spot the Star but distracts a bit from the plot, at least initially, though I found it easier to get into once I’d been watching for a while.

The tug among strong forces like integrity, business savvy and family makes it compelling as the characters face very difficult choices, while the sometimes absurdist solutions keep the laughter coming. Meanwhile, side stories add to the more serious overtones, particularly the quest of ailing editor-in-chief Bernie White, played by the always-excellent Robert Duvall, to reconcile with his estranged daughter.

The movie is rated R with good reason, particularly when it comes to language and violence. I wouldn’t recommend it for younger audiences, but high schoolers considering careers in journalism might want to have a look and see what they might be getting into. This movie shows the intense frustration that can arise from working in the newspaper business. However, it also celebrates the exultation of a job well done.

Aspiring Artists Should Not Take Lessons From Bucket of Blood

One day several months ago, my parents and I returned home to find my brother Nathan's head on the porch. We had scarcely recovered from our shock when we encountered Nathan's head again, this time attached to his shoulders, as he explained that this eerily lifelike bust was a school project he'd finally toted home from college. Over the next few months, he painted it and left it out on the deck to be weathered by the elements, creating a rugged representation of himself that took first place in the sculpture division of Panorama, an annual Erie art show.

Nathan is a sculptor. Walter, the main character in cheesy 1959 horror flick A Bucket of Blood, is not.

The film, written by Charles B. Griffith and directed by Roger Corman, stars Dick Miller as a nondescript waiter who's tired of feeling like a nobody. When he accidentally kills his landlady's cat, it seems like one more stroke of bad luck for a guy who can't catch a break. Then, something unexpected happens. Some bohemians from the café where he works spy the cat which he has encased in plaster as a cover-up and deem him a great artist. He begins receiving accolades - and demands for a follow-up piece.

The low production values and absurd premise help make this movie too silly to be scary, which is the only way I can stomach horror. Walter is actually a sympathetic protagonist, at least at first, but his lust for acceptance and acclaim brings out the worst in him. The movie also seems to critique the pretentiousness artsy types sometimes possess. Here, they all latch onto this hip new artist with his hyper-realistic sculptures, and one gets the impression that most of them think his work is cool simply because the others do.

While most of the beatniks are presented in a shallow light, Carla (Barboura Morris) has more depth, and she relates to Walter as a friend rather than a commodity - or an oddity. While she may be one of Walter's most ardent supporters, she is also one of the first to realize that something about this "artist" is amiss. Unfortunately, by that time, he has set his sights on her, and he has grown used to getting what he wants. Is her sweet spirit about to be rewarded with a taste of terror?

The story and main characters are engaging, and I also love the wry spoof of the contemporary counter-culture, particularly through the out-there Maxwell (Julian Burton). As a Glenn Yarbrough fan, I was tickled to hear a folk song performed by a man with a remarkably similar style; a bit of research informed me that he was Alex Hassilev - and he'd been in a band, the Limeliters, with Yarbrough.

If I could stomach this movie, I reckon most squeamish folks wouldn't have a problem with it. It's more goofy than grotesque, and it may make you appreciate the true artists in your life all the more.

Clark Griswold's Christmas Vacation Is Laced With Disaster

My boyfriend Will and I immersed ourselves in a multitude of Christmas movies this past holiday season, and since we watched some of them alone and some with my parents or a friend, a couple flicks got covered twice. One of those was the wacky 1989 classic National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.

Along with A Christmas Story, this is the movie I most often see referenced by people whose stomachs turn at the steady trickle of treacle provided by so many holiday films. I’m a sucker for sap, so I never mind, but I can see how this movie written by John Hughes and directed by Jeremiah S. Chechik would appeal to those who consider Christmas primarily a hassle.

As he does in several other movies in the series, Chevy Chase stars as lovable schmuck Clark Griswold. Clark just loves Christmas, and he’s over-the-moon excited that he finally gets to host a big celebration of his own. His level-headed wife Ellen (Beverly D’Angelo) and embarrassed kids Rusty (Johnny Galecki) and Audrey (Juliette Lewis) aren’t so thrilled. Not only do they have to deal with his impractical extravagance, they must navigate the inconveniences posed by two sets of grandparents and an uninvited redneck cousin.

I’m always one to cringe at wanton mayhem, so I’m not wild about all the destructive sequences in this movie, though some of them do make me laugh. As an animal lover, there is one scene in particular that I find distasteful, and as obnoxious as they are, I do feel a little sorry for the neighbors played by Nicholas Guest as Seinfeld’s Julia Louis-Dreyfus, as they most often fall victim to Clark’s tinkering. From the oversized tree and the malfunctioning lights to the super-powered sled and the Christmas Eve hostage crisis, just about every mishap in this movie is a result, directly or indirectly, of Clark’s tendency toward excess.

Yet it is that youthful enthusiasm that makes him such a lovable character. Clark adores his family and still finds Christmastime magical. He wants everyone to share in the joy that he feels. As his big plans go further and further off the rails, he goes off the deep end, but it’s hard to imagine how anyone could do otherwise in that situation. Hence, while almost everything goes wrong in this movie, it doesn’t really feel like a cynical response to Christmas.

Clark’s heart is as expansive as his yard display, as the scenes he shares with little Ruby Sue (the adorable Ellen Hamilton Latzen) show especially well. Similarly, Randy Quaid brings a lot of sweetness to the role of Ruby Sue’s loose cannon of a dad, Eddie. He may cause everyone a heap of headaches, but in a pinch, he’s an awfully loyal friend.

I wouldn’t list this movie among my Christmas favorites, but it definitely has its own oddball charm, and I’ve little doubt that I will check in with the Griswolds during Decembers yet to come.

Not Quite Proof of Heaven, But An Intriguing Account

Back in October, I paid a visit to my grandparents. While I was there, we watched an episode of Katie Couric's talk show in which she invited guests who reported having had near-death or mystical experiences, and my grandpa lent me a couple books collecting stories of people who believed they had gotten a glimpse of a deeper reality. The theme seemed to permeate my visit, so I was intrigued when one of the first things I saw upon my return home was my dad's latest Newsweek, the cover of which pointed to an excerpt of a book written by a neurologist claiming Proof of Heaven.

I read the excerpt and decided to order the book by Dr. Eben Alexander. After all, not only did it feel like kismet after I'd encountered the subject so much at my grandparents', but accounts of that type have always fascinated me. Alexander's is particularly interesting because he approaches it from a scientific perspective. While the book is mostly written in layman's terms, it is informed by his years of study and skepticism. It attempts to reconcile faith and science in a meaningful way, though he uses very little specific religious terminology throughout the book.

I found Alexander's style accessible and enjoyable, albeit a bit hard to follow at times as he tends to follow a very nonlinear format. He spends a lot of time discussing his conflicted feelings about having been adopted and the emotions that swirled up in him when he first made contact with his biological family. He also discusses what was happening in the hospital while he was in a coma brought on by a particularly nasty form of meningitis, and he talks about the impact that his experience while in the coma had upon his life. What he doesn't really discuss in great detail is the experience itself. That part of the account is moving but brief, and the book includes few details that weren't covered in the excerpt.

What Alexander does share is intriguing, particularly as he ties it in with quantum physics and the idea that sheer materialism offers a deeply limited view of the cosmos. His description of love as the very fabric of the universe is moving and comforting, and I was particularly interested in his immersion in an almost tangible harmony and how that enriched his experience when he returned church after a long absence. He notes that he is an Episcopalian but that prior to his experience, the religious conviction he once felt had dimmed considerably. I would have been interested in hearing more about how he viewed his renewed childhood faith in light of what he believed to be a close encounter with the divine.

Despite the audacious title, the evidence Alexander offers is still something that can't be corroborated except to the extent that his medical records clearly indicate that part of his brain shut down during his coma. It's also not among the most detailed NDE accounts I have read. I think the book promises more than it delivers in terms of recounting the actual experience and uses repetition and rumination to mask the fact that the meat of the story is only maybe three or four chapters. Nonetheless, it does offer a specific viewpoint that makes it an unusual offering in this particular niche. While it's more anecdote than evidence, it opens up the conversation in an interesting way and is well worth a look for those who are drawn to these types of accounts.

It's Not Quite Pitch Perfect, But Still An Enjoyable Movie

My friend Libbie and I have watched GLEE together many times, so the 2012 movie Pitch Perfect seemed like a natural movie choice for a recent girls’ night in. This Jason Moore-directed comedy based on the book by Mickey Rapkin is set on the campus of a college where some of the students take music very seriously. The primary focus is on the Bellas, a girls’ a cappella group struggling to rebound from a disastrous national performance the year before.

While the movie zeroes in on various students at different points, the central character is rebellious freshman Beca (Anna Kendrick), who dreams of being a music producer. It takes a lot of persuasion to get her to join the group, but once she does, she becomes a major source of energy and innovation, much to the displeasure of controlling group leader Aubrey (Anna Camp), whose mishap necessitated a fresh approach this year.

Brittany Snow is quite charming as Aubrey’s best friend Chloe, the only other returning Bella and the one who quickly recognizes Beca’s skill as a vocalist. Easily the sweetest of the bunch, she is much easier to take than Aubrey, whose obnoxious attitude usually cancels out sympathy for her unfortunate tendency to throw up when nervous. This running gag is probably my least favorite aspect of the movie, since they go to great pains to make the barf as absurdly exaggerated as possible, a la Airplane. The result is too gross to be funny, at least to me.

While none of the other humor is that grotesque, I did find a lot of it too low-brow or catty to really make me laugh, but there are some genuinely funny moments, particularly involving Australian breakout star Rebel Wilson as self-assured vocalist Fat Amy and Hana Mae Lee as the quiet, creepy Lilly. The film also has some sweet moments of blossoming friendship among fellow outcasts, as well as the slow-building romance between Beca and movie enthusiast Jesse (Skylar Astin), whose uber-geeky roommate Benji (Ben Platt), avid magician and collector of Star Wars memorabilia, is probably my favorite character in the movie.

Of course, given the theme of the movie, there’s a lot of singing here, and most of it is quite good despite the fact that there are a couple of songs we hear ad nauseam. A rivalry between the Bellas and the all-male Treblemakers, of which Jesse is a part, adds drama to the movie, and it’s fun to hear the arrangements that they come up with. As a penner of filksong lyrics, I was also fascinated to hear Beca discuss the process of creating mash-ups, which similarly involves finding the common ground between two seemingly unrelated things and fusing them together. In the case of mash-ups, both song theme and chord progressions come into play, often with very creative and pleasing results.

A cappella music and choral groups in general have experienced increased popularity in recent years thanks to shows like GLEE and groups like Straight No Chaser, and those who get a kick out of those tight-knit harmonies might want to give this movie a try, though they should be warned that much of the comedy is crude, albeit only at a PG-13 level. Additionally, it definitely feels informed by GLEE, but it’s hard to say whether it spends more time celebrating or mocking the spirit of that show. There’s certainly a tongue-in-cheek tone to the movie, but at its most earnest, it demonstrates the power of music to unite even the most different of individuals.