Henry Huggins is a hard-working, well-mannered boy closing in on his
eleventh birthday. Although his life has become much more interesting
since his acquisition of Ribsy, a scrawny mutt who adopted him when
Henry was in third grade, more and more he feels as though something is
missing… but what? The what becomes clear when Scooter McCarthy, a gruff
seventh-grade friend of his, mentions that his district manager, Mr.
Capper, is looking for another boy to deliver papers. Yes, a paper route
would definitely be a worthwhile use of Henry’s time, with some nice
profits to go along with it. But getting the coveted position will not
be as easy as Henry thought…
Henry and the Paper Route
chronicles Henry’s escapades as he tries to convince the kindly but
dubious Mr. Capper that he is ready for the responsibility of being a
paper boy. Along the way, he finds himself in all sorts of situations
beyond his control. A valiant attempt to save four kittens from the
pound leads to a bad first impression, a day full of “No, thank you”s as
he tries to give them away, and an unanticipated affection between Mr.
Huggins and one of the kittens. A bit of clever advertising for a school
paper drive escalates into a week-long pick-up and bundling procedure
hilariously reminiscent of the mass-producing guppy episode in Henry Huggins. Henry has the best of intentions, but too often they seem to go awry.
It doesn’t help that his friend Beezus’ little sister Ramona is always
hanging around causing trouble. This book takes place in roughly the
same time frame as Beezus and Ramona, and Ramona’s rampant
creativity and ferocious temper are just as evident from Henry’s point
of view as Beezus’. Henry must rely on his quick wit – and some help
from Beezus – to keep Ramona from ruining all his plans. But it isn’t
just Ramona who stands in his way. Scooter invites Henry to take over
some of his paper boy work, but a quarrel between them leaves Henry
deprived of his duties and despairing of ever having a route of his own.
Add into the mix a strange new glasses-wearing, robot-building
neighbor, and you never know what’s going to happen to Henry next!
This book comes toward the end of the Henry series; only Henry and the Clubhouse
remains to cap off the boy’s adventures. Of course, they aren’t really
over; he continues to make guest appearances in the later Ramona books.
But his starring role is nearly at an end. Maybe he is just a bit too
even-tempered to arouse the sort of enthusiasm Ramona enjoys.
Nonetheless, Henry and the Paper Route is written with as much of
Cleary’s distinctive style as her more celebrated books, and Henry is
immensely likable. If boys object to reading about a feisty girl named
Ramona, they might consider immersing themselves in the activities of an
ordinary boy named Henry.
Thursday, April 29, 2004
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Cleary's First Foray Into Novels as Brilliant as her Latest
Although Ramona Quimby is probably Beverly Cleary’s most well-known
character, she started out as a minor supporting character in the world
of Cleary’s first starring child, Henry Huggins. Henry’s adventures
stretched across nearly as many books as Ramona’s, and they all began
with Henry Huggins, the author’s very first novel, completed
after repeated requests by her young library visitors for stories about
kids like them. The book was written in 1950, so some of the situations
and language feel a bit dated, but the introduction to Henry and all the
other residents of Klickitat Street is engaging nonetheless.
When we first meet Henry, he is nearing the end of third grade and bemoaning the fact that nothing exciting ever happens to him. Suddenly, something does. An ordinary trip to the YMCA leads to a chance encounter with a scraggly mutt who latches himself onto Henry. Observing the dog’s slight frame, Henry assigns him the name Ribsy and manages to convince his mother to let him keep him. Now all he has to do is get him home on the bus…
Henry is a nice, sensible boy whose misadventures never stem from a lack of control, as is so often the case with Ramona. He speaks politely to adults, pays for Ribsy’s upkeep with his own money, devotes all his time to feeding his fish when a simple pair of guppies turns into a regular fish factory, readily accepts the challenge of catching 1400 night crawlers to pay for his friend’s lost football, and agrees to an impartial ownership contest when Ribsy’s former master resurfaces to claim his dog. Adults and friends sometimes treat him unfairly, but he seems to take almost everything in stride. He is very different from Ramona but perhaps not far removed from her older sister Beezus, which is not surprising since they are such good friends. Beezus shows up a few times here, most notably agreeing to adopt one of Henry’s guppies, while Ramona’s part is so scant as to scarcely merit mention.
Henry’s adventures throughout the book are entertaining and show Cleary’s understanding of how young children think, while the simple but artistic language contributes to the ease of reading no matter what age the reader is. She is just as adept at getting into a boy’s head as a girl’s. Even though Henry’s speech consists largely of such outdated words as “gee whiz,” “jeepers,” “golly,” and “gosh” and monetary amounts and certain items mentioned in the book clearly place the novel in the 50s, he comes across very realistically, and his exploits are still great fun to read about. Most of the book is a series of funny incidents over the course of a year or so, but the last chapter ends on a slightly somber, heartfelt note that leaves the door open and the reader ready for the many Klickitat chronicles to come.
When we first meet Henry, he is nearing the end of third grade and bemoaning the fact that nothing exciting ever happens to him. Suddenly, something does. An ordinary trip to the YMCA leads to a chance encounter with a scraggly mutt who latches himself onto Henry. Observing the dog’s slight frame, Henry assigns him the name Ribsy and manages to convince his mother to let him keep him. Now all he has to do is get him home on the bus…
Henry is a nice, sensible boy whose misadventures never stem from a lack of control, as is so often the case with Ramona. He speaks politely to adults, pays for Ribsy’s upkeep with his own money, devotes all his time to feeding his fish when a simple pair of guppies turns into a regular fish factory, readily accepts the challenge of catching 1400 night crawlers to pay for his friend’s lost football, and agrees to an impartial ownership contest when Ribsy’s former master resurfaces to claim his dog. Adults and friends sometimes treat him unfairly, but he seems to take almost everything in stride. He is very different from Ramona but perhaps not far removed from her older sister Beezus, which is not surprising since they are such good friends. Beezus shows up a few times here, most notably agreeing to adopt one of Henry’s guppies, while Ramona’s part is so scant as to scarcely merit mention.
Henry’s adventures throughout the book are entertaining and show Cleary’s understanding of how young children think, while the simple but artistic language contributes to the ease of reading no matter what age the reader is. She is just as adept at getting into a boy’s head as a girl’s. Even though Henry’s speech consists largely of such outdated words as “gee whiz,” “jeepers,” “golly,” and “gosh” and monetary amounts and certain items mentioned in the book clearly place the novel in the 50s, he comes across very realistically, and his exploits are still great fun to read about. Most of the book is a series of funny incidents over the course of a year or so, but the last chapter ends on a slightly somber, heartfelt note that leaves the door open and the reader ready for the many Klickitat chronicles to come.
Ramona Backslides But Emerges Wiser
After devoting a book to Ramona Quimby’s relationship with her father,
Beverly Cleary took the logical step and entitled the next volume Ramona and Her Mother.
Ramona is still in second grade, but circumstances have changed. The
book begins with a neighborhood party to celebrate Mr. Quimby’s
acquisition of a job as a checker at a local shopping mart. With Mrs.
Quimby still working full time, that means Ramona and her sister Beezus
must stay with Ramona’s friend Howie Kemp’s grandmother after school, a
situation neither of the girls is crazy about, especially when Howie’s
sister Willa Jean is old enough now to be annoying. Ramona observes the
sticky, crumby, destructive child with distaste and cringes when the
neighbors and even her own family compare Willa Jean to her. Surely she
never could have been that obnoxious!
Beezus lets it be known that she still finds Ramona obnoxious from time to time, and Ramona can’t help feeling cross with her older sister. Ramona tries to be good – sometimes goes out of her way – but no one seems to appreciate her efforts. While everyone comments on Beezus’ responsibility, calling her “her mother’s girl,” and Mrs. Quimby responds by saying she couldn’t get along without Beezus, her mother never announces in front of the neighbors what a good helper Ramona is. Even when Beezus’ new fashionable sensibilities cause her to quarrel with her mother, in the end the topic only brings them closer together, and Ramona feels more left out than ever.
While the seriousness of the situation in Ramona and Her Father required Ramona to keep her impulsive tendencies in check, less tense circumstances in this book allow some of Ramona’s less admirable qualities to surface once more. She indulges in several tantrums and even allows herself to realize her lifelong fantasy of squeezing out an entire tube of toothpaste. Her unconventional creativity also leads to a messy incident with a bottle of bluing in Howie’s basement and an uncomfortably hot trip to school with her pajamas under her clothes.
While Ramona observes Mrs. Quimby’s reactions to Beezus’ changing demeanor, she also bears witness to a very startling event: a full-blown fight between her mother and father. Although they later assure the girls that even though grown-ups get upset and quarrel sometimes, it doesn’t mean they don’t love one another, Ramona disapproves of their behavior, recalling her friend Davy whose parents got a divorce. The long, tense conversations her parents have after Ramona is in bed only make her more nervous, especially since they are too quiet for her to make out the words. What words she does understand have to do with school, leading her to believe they must be arguing about her, which makes matters even worse.
Cleary’s exploration into Ramona’s psyche continues with this book, and readers observe as the seven-year-old struggles to find her place in a world where she always seems too young to be responsible and too old to be cute. Cleary has a gift for using language simple enough for young children to comprehend but vibrant enough to keep them, and even their parents, enthralled. Her acute understanding of how young children think keeps Ramona and Her Mother, like the other Ramona books, by turns funny and moving, but always truthful.
Beezus lets it be known that she still finds Ramona obnoxious from time to time, and Ramona can’t help feeling cross with her older sister. Ramona tries to be good – sometimes goes out of her way – but no one seems to appreciate her efforts. While everyone comments on Beezus’ responsibility, calling her “her mother’s girl,” and Mrs. Quimby responds by saying she couldn’t get along without Beezus, her mother never announces in front of the neighbors what a good helper Ramona is. Even when Beezus’ new fashionable sensibilities cause her to quarrel with her mother, in the end the topic only brings them closer together, and Ramona feels more left out than ever.
While the seriousness of the situation in Ramona and Her Father required Ramona to keep her impulsive tendencies in check, less tense circumstances in this book allow some of Ramona’s less admirable qualities to surface once more. She indulges in several tantrums and even allows herself to realize her lifelong fantasy of squeezing out an entire tube of toothpaste. Her unconventional creativity also leads to a messy incident with a bottle of bluing in Howie’s basement and an uncomfortably hot trip to school with her pajamas under her clothes.
While Ramona observes Mrs. Quimby’s reactions to Beezus’ changing demeanor, she also bears witness to a very startling event: a full-blown fight between her mother and father. Although they later assure the girls that even though grown-ups get upset and quarrel sometimes, it doesn’t mean they don’t love one another, Ramona disapproves of their behavior, recalling her friend Davy whose parents got a divorce. The long, tense conversations her parents have after Ramona is in bed only make her more nervous, especially since they are too quiet for her to make out the words. What words she does understand have to do with school, leading her to believe they must be arguing about her, which makes matters even worse.
Cleary’s exploration into Ramona’s psyche continues with this book, and readers observe as the seven-year-old struggles to find her place in a world where she always seems too young to be responsible and too old to be cute. Cleary has a gift for using language simple enough for young children to comprehend but vibrant enough to keep them, and even their parents, enthralled. Her acute understanding of how young children think keeps Ramona and Her Mother, like the other Ramona books, by turns funny and moving, but always truthful.
Ramona Returns, Vibrant as Ever
Ever since the age of seven or so, I have been a big fan of Beverly
Cleary’s books, particularly those involving Ramona Quimby, a girl I
always found to be not so different from myself. For many years, my
collection of Ramona books was complete, ending with the eventful Ramona Forever,
which culminated in the marriage of Ramona’s Aunt Beatrice and the
birth of her sister Roberta. I thought her saga had ended, but in 1999,
fifteen years after Ramona Forever, Cleary added another volume.
Ramona’s World finds Ramona in the exciting new position of big sister. She is fascinated by her sister’s tiny but perfect body and her steady growth and can’t wait to start the fourth grade so she can tell her class all about Roberta. At the same time, she misses being the baby of the family and resents always being shushed so Roberta can sleep. Meanwhile, she still has to deal with being a little sister. Beezus is now in ninth grade and beginning to tire of the sensible persona she’s always held. As her days become consumed with excited telephone conversations and fashionable clothes and accessories – including a pair of earrings acquired without her parents’ permission with money earned from babysitting – Ramona begins to miss the old Beezus.
She feels very grown-up now that she is in the fourth grade, and school would be quite pleasant for her if it weren’t for the fact that her new teacher, Mrs. Meacham, is very concerned with spelling, a subject that bores Ramona. Not only does her teacher insist she take the time to spell words more carefully, her mother complains that Ramona uses the word “stuff” too much and wants her to find more interesting alternatives. Mrs. Quimby also wants her daughter to spend more time with Susan, the prissy, curly-haired girl who Ramona perceives as her classroom nemesis.
But Ramona doesn’t have much time to worry about Susan because she has befriended the new girl in her class, a girl with long blond hair named Daisy Kidd. Ramona has never had a girl best friend before; the chief friendship of her life up to this point has been with the bland Howie Kemp, whose obsession with building things begins to bore her. Now she has a friend with whom she can play dress up, watch the soap opera Big Hospital, and do other girly things. She loves going over to Daisy’s house with the cat who likes to be vacuumed, the dog who watches television, the big brother who calls Daisy names, and the mother who treats Ramona like a big girl.
The only subject on which she and Daisy disagree is Danny, the rowdy boy at school who Ramona calls “Yard Ape.” He’s the sort of boy who likes to tease and always comes close to causing trouble without actually angering the teacher. In fact, he’s a very good student, and his antics are more amusing than obnoxious. Still, his rambunctious behavior on the playground earns him the label “awful” from Daisy, a claim Ramona refuses to dispute because she does not want anyone to know she has a crush on him.
Cleary was 83 years old when this book was published, but her insight into a child’s psyche and skill at conveying pivotal situations in colorful but age-appropriate language had not diminished. The transition from Ramona Forever to Ramona’s World is perfectly natural, and children just being introduced to Ramona now would never guess at the span of years between volumes. For longtime fans like myself, meanwhile, this book is an unexpected treat, a venture back into the world of a most beloved childhood character whose adventures we’d thought were over. And as soon as we’ve read the first page, it’s as though we never left.
Ramona’s World finds Ramona in the exciting new position of big sister. She is fascinated by her sister’s tiny but perfect body and her steady growth and can’t wait to start the fourth grade so she can tell her class all about Roberta. At the same time, she misses being the baby of the family and resents always being shushed so Roberta can sleep. Meanwhile, she still has to deal with being a little sister. Beezus is now in ninth grade and beginning to tire of the sensible persona she’s always held. As her days become consumed with excited telephone conversations and fashionable clothes and accessories – including a pair of earrings acquired without her parents’ permission with money earned from babysitting – Ramona begins to miss the old Beezus.
She feels very grown-up now that she is in the fourth grade, and school would be quite pleasant for her if it weren’t for the fact that her new teacher, Mrs. Meacham, is very concerned with spelling, a subject that bores Ramona. Not only does her teacher insist she take the time to spell words more carefully, her mother complains that Ramona uses the word “stuff” too much and wants her to find more interesting alternatives. Mrs. Quimby also wants her daughter to spend more time with Susan, the prissy, curly-haired girl who Ramona perceives as her classroom nemesis.
But Ramona doesn’t have much time to worry about Susan because she has befriended the new girl in her class, a girl with long blond hair named Daisy Kidd. Ramona has never had a girl best friend before; the chief friendship of her life up to this point has been with the bland Howie Kemp, whose obsession with building things begins to bore her. Now she has a friend with whom she can play dress up, watch the soap opera Big Hospital, and do other girly things. She loves going over to Daisy’s house with the cat who likes to be vacuumed, the dog who watches television, the big brother who calls Daisy names, and the mother who treats Ramona like a big girl.
The only subject on which she and Daisy disagree is Danny, the rowdy boy at school who Ramona calls “Yard Ape.” He’s the sort of boy who likes to tease and always comes close to causing trouble without actually angering the teacher. In fact, he’s a very good student, and his antics are more amusing than obnoxious. Still, his rambunctious behavior on the playground earns him the label “awful” from Daisy, a claim Ramona refuses to dispute because she does not want anyone to know she has a crush on him.
Cleary was 83 years old when this book was published, but her insight into a child’s psyche and skill at conveying pivotal situations in colorful but age-appropriate language had not diminished. The transition from Ramona Forever to Ramona’s World is perfectly natural, and children just being introduced to Ramona now would never guess at the span of years between volumes. For longtime fans like myself, meanwhile, this book is an unexpected treat, a venture back into the world of a most beloved childhood character whose adventures we’d thought were over. And as soon as we’ve read the first page, it’s as though we never left.
Thirteen a Thoroughly Unlikable Movie
Last year, I heard a lot about the movie Thirteen, mostly having
to do with the fact that its co-author was as young as the main
character. Intrigued by the idea of a movie written by one so young and
experiencing my usual combo package of inspiration and jealousy when
faced with a prodigy, I added it to the list of movies I wanted to see,
but many films higher up on the list didn’t make the cut so Thirteen
would have to wait for a day when I could rent it. That day came a
couple months ago, when I spent the evening with two friends who were
equally intrigued by the screenwriting credits. When the movie ended, we
were all glad we’d waited for the video.
The writer in question is Nikki Reed, who takes a lead role in the film as Evie, a popular, worldly girl with whom the main character, Tracy (Evan Rachel Wood), becomes obsessed towards the beginning of the film. Tracy starts out as a nice, sweet 13-year-old girl who loves her mother, Melanie (Holly Hunter), dotes on the younger children in her neighborhood, and plays innocently with her longtime friends. But this year, it seems, is destined to be different. When members of a snotty clique make a derogatory comment about her socks, Tracy snaps. Suddenly all she cares about is being popular, and that means getting in with Evie. After a grand dissing by Evie and her friends, Tracy manages to win her way into their crowd by stealing an elderly woman’s wallet. Before long, Evie has dumped the rest of her friends, and so has Tracy. The two become a gruesome twosome, with Evie’s charm landing her a semi-permanent spot in Tracy’s home.
Throughout the course of the movie, the sweet little girl that was Tracy vanishes. She snaps at her mother constantly and without good cause even as Evie warms up to Melanie. Under Evie’s sinister tutelage, Tracy spends the bulk of the film in a whirlwind of substance abuse, self-mutilation, theft, and lewd activity, and her dialogue is heavily peppered with profanity. Both girls have troubled homes, but the film shows Melanie making a genuine effort to do what is best for her family in spite of her own struggles with drugs and alcohol and a boyfriend, Brady (Jeremy Sisto), with similar problems. She is easily the most sympathetic character in the film. I spent much of the film angry with Tracy for her abrupt and uncalled for change in behavior, and it was evident from the beginning that Evie spelled trouble. Although it seems we are not supposed to like Brady, I thought Tracy’s vilification of him did not match the character the film presented. Most of the time he seemed like a perfectly decent guy whose problems did not make him any worse than any other character in the movie.
I found the whole film dark, depressing, and hard to follow. The cinematographic style was jarring; it looked as though the movie had been shot on a home video camera by someone who did not know how to operate the camera properly. I found the 180-degree change in Tracy’s character unbelievable and the activities she engaged in with Evie abhorrent. I guess I’ve lived a sheltered life, but I can’t imagine seventh-graders living this way. High schoolers, perhaps, but not kids just starting junior high. The acting seemed solid enough, but I found the film so thoroughly unlikable that I couldn’t appreciate it, even in the scenes between Melanie and Tracy that I was supposed to find so moving. I guess this is a film that would probably best be appreciated by teenagers – too R-rated for younger children and too disturbing for adults who already feel like kids today are on the wrong track. But I certainly couldn’t have related to this movie when I was thirteen, and I hope the number of thirteen-year-olds who can is not nearly as large as Reed would have us think.
The writer in question is Nikki Reed, who takes a lead role in the film as Evie, a popular, worldly girl with whom the main character, Tracy (Evan Rachel Wood), becomes obsessed towards the beginning of the film. Tracy starts out as a nice, sweet 13-year-old girl who loves her mother, Melanie (Holly Hunter), dotes on the younger children in her neighborhood, and plays innocently with her longtime friends. But this year, it seems, is destined to be different. When members of a snotty clique make a derogatory comment about her socks, Tracy snaps. Suddenly all she cares about is being popular, and that means getting in with Evie. After a grand dissing by Evie and her friends, Tracy manages to win her way into their crowd by stealing an elderly woman’s wallet. Before long, Evie has dumped the rest of her friends, and so has Tracy. The two become a gruesome twosome, with Evie’s charm landing her a semi-permanent spot in Tracy’s home.
Throughout the course of the movie, the sweet little girl that was Tracy vanishes. She snaps at her mother constantly and without good cause even as Evie warms up to Melanie. Under Evie’s sinister tutelage, Tracy spends the bulk of the film in a whirlwind of substance abuse, self-mutilation, theft, and lewd activity, and her dialogue is heavily peppered with profanity. Both girls have troubled homes, but the film shows Melanie making a genuine effort to do what is best for her family in spite of her own struggles with drugs and alcohol and a boyfriend, Brady (Jeremy Sisto), with similar problems. She is easily the most sympathetic character in the film. I spent much of the film angry with Tracy for her abrupt and uncalled for change in behavior, and it was evident from the beginning that Evie spelled trouble. Although it seems we are not supposed to like Brady, I thought Tracy’s vilification of him did not match the character the film presented. Most of the time he seemed like a perfectly decent guy whose problems did not make him any worse than any other character in the movie.
I found the whole film dark, depressing, and hard to follow. The cinematographic style was jarring; it looked as though the movie had been shot on a home video camera by someone who did not know how to operate the camera properly. I found the 180-degree change in Tracy’s character unbelievable and the activities she engaged in with Evie abhorrent. I guess I’ve lived a sheltered life, but I can’t imagine seventh-graders living this way. High schoolers, perhaps, but not kids just starting junior high. The acting seemed solid enough, but I found the film so thoroughly unlikable that I couldn’t appreciate it, even in the scenes between Melanie and Tracy that I was supposed to find so moving. I guess this is a film that would probably best be appreciated by teenagers – too R-rated for younger children and too disturbing for adults who already feel like kids today are on the wrong track. But I certainly couldn’t have related to this movie when I was thirteen, and I hope the number of thirteen-year-olds who can is not nearly as large as Reed would have us think.
Tuesday, April 27, 2004
"It's Simon and Garfunkel! You Can't Just Turn Them Off!"
Last year, my dad and brother had the opportunity to spend an evening in
Buffalo watching Beatlemania!, a tribute to the Beatles, which is my
brother’s favorite musical group. Mom and I had acquired the tickets by
chance when the two of us went to see Art Garfunkel in February; a local
radio station had a booth set up, and I gave the wheel a lucky spin and
walked away with the tickets. We only thought it fair to make
Beatlemania! a boys’ night out to balance our February concert, but
while Dad and Nathan were grooving to I Wanna Hold Your Hand and Let it Be,
Mom and I decided to veg out for the evening with a couple of chick
flicks. We debated a bit but wound up with two, one of which was Maid in Manhattan.
Mom was especially interested in seeing it. I doubted I would strongly
dislike it, but I didn’t expect it to thrill me too much either. While
exceedingly high expectations sometimes lead me to think badly of an
otherwise good movie, one that delivers more than I expected usually
ranks high with me. I suspected from the movie’s opening moments that
this would be such a film.
The film opens with shots of New York City set, I noted with excitement, to the tune of Paul Simon’s Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard, a lively Latin-flavored tune that also showed up in The Royal Tenenbaums. It captures the energy of the city well and also gives a nod to the ethnicity of the protagonist. I was just tickled to hear the song and thrilled with the opening dialogue between the titular maid, Marisa Ventura (Jennifer Lopez), and her son Ty (Tyler Posey), which reveals that the boy is a big Simon and Garfunkel fan. Now that, I thought, is one cool kid!
Ty is eccentric and precocious, driving much of the action in the film, including his mother’s first encounter with Chris Marshall (Ralph Fiennes), a senatorial candidate staying at the hotel where Marisa works. Chris is a very pleasant fellow, annoyed by all the special treatment his staff wants him to receive and refreshed by Marisa and her gregarious son. The only trouble is that when he meets her, she is wearing the luxurious outfit of a wealthy guest, a dangerous dress-up game initiated by her trouble-making fellow maid Stephanie (Marissa Matrone). They hit it off, but Chris doesn’t know Marisa’s a maid instead of a socialite and she doesn’t want him to find out. The whole story plays out much like Ever After, with the class boundaries, deception, confrontation, and eventual inevitable reconciliation. Not overly creative, I suppose, but I’m the sort of gal who can tolerate multiple incarnations of basic plotlines. I think Maid in Manhattan does very well for what it is.
Marisa is both timid and ambitious, an hard-working woman who wants to do her job well and rise to a higher position in society but makes a big mistake along the way. Lopez handles the character well, while Fiennes’ slightly aloof approach makes Chris come across as shy and kindly. I also found Posey very enjoyable in his role as the clever, match-making Ty, and supporting roles by Stanley Tucci, as Chris’ cynical campaign manager, and Bob Hoskins, the honorable head butler who sympathizes with Marisa, enhance the film considerably.
I must attribute some of my enjoyment of the movie to the unexpected presence of Simon and Garfunkel. After that promising beginning, I kept alert for any future references and was rewarded with Eva Cassidy’s exquisite rendition of Kathy’s Song toward the end of the film. The movie was not as much of a comedy as I had anticipated, but that didn’t bother me; too much of the humor in most romantic comedies I’ve seen lately tends to be crude anyway. I just found it a nice, feel-good movie with a happy ending and a nifty soundtrack. And that was good enough for me.
The film opens with shots of New York City set, I noted with excitement, to the tune of Paul Simon’s Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard, a lively Latin-flavored tune that also showed up in The Royal Tenenbaums. It captures the energy of the city well and also gives a nod to the ethnicity of the protagonist. I was just tickled to hear the song and thrilled with the opening dialogue between the titular maid, Marisa Ventura (Jennifer Lopez), and her son Ty (Tyler Posey), which reveals that the boy is a big Simon and Garfunkel fan. Now that, I thought, is one cool kid!
Ty is eccentric and precocious, driving much of the action in the film, including his mother’s first encounter with Chris Marshall (Ralph Fiennes), a senatorial candidate staying at the hotel where Marisa works. Chris is a very pleasant fellow, annoyed by all the special treatment his staff wants him to receive and refreshed by Marisa and her gregarious son. The only trouble is that when he meets her, she is wearing the luxurious outfit of a wealthy guest, a dangerous dress-up game initiated by her trouble-making fellow maid Stephanie (Marissa Matrone). They hit it off, but Chris doesn’t know Marisa’s a maid instead of a socialite and she doesn’t want him to find out. The whole story plays out much like Ever After, with the class boundaries, deception, confrontation, and eventual inevitable reconciliation. Not overly creative, I suppose, but I’m the sort of gal who can tolerate multiple incarnations of basic plotlines. I think Maid in Manhattan does very well for what it is.
Marisa is both timid and ambitious, an hard-working woman who wants to do her job well and rise to a higher position in society but makes a big mistake along the way. Lopez handles the character well, while Fiennes’ slightly aloof approach makes Chris come across as shy and kindly. I also found Posey very enjoyable in his role as the clever, match-making Ty, and supporting roles by Stanley Tucci, as Chris’ cynical campaign manager, and Bob Hoskins, the honorable head butler who sympathizes with Marisa, enhance the film considerably.
I must attribute some of my enjoyment of the movie to the unexpected presence of Simon and Garfunkel. After that promising beginning, I kept alert for any future references and was rewarded with Eva Cassidy’s exquisite rendition of Kathy’s Song toward the end of the film. The movie was not as much of a comedy as I had anticipated, but that didn’t bother me; too much of the humor in most romantic comedies I’ve seen lately tends to be crude anyway. I just found it a nice, feel-good movie with a happy ending and a nifty soundtrack. And that was good enough for me.
Nicholson's Film About a Hollow Man Full of Meaning
My friend and I recently attended a church service as the guests of a
couple in a small group Bible study we’d been attending. The study was
on Rick Warren’s The Purpose-Driven Life, and the church had
integrated the study into its services. The week we went, the topic was
evangelism, and the sermon concerned reaching out to others outside the
Christian community and sharing your faith with them. It concluded with
the final scene in About Schmidt, a film I had been wanting to
see but still hadn’t yet. Although the scene did not so much illustrate
the importance of evangelism, it did demonstrate how the human need for a
feeling of purpose is best fulfilled by an assurance that our lives
have made a difference to someone else, even if it is just one person. A
few days ago, my friend and I watched the movie together, and while
much of it was rather dreary and depressing, I ultimately found the film
very moving.
This is the movie that afforded us all those glamorous shots of Jack Nicholson looking like something the cat dragged in and promptly ran away from. He’s looking awfully rough here, and with good reason. Warren Schmidt (Nicholson) is a man doomed to the realization that he is 66 years old with nothing to show for it. He retires from a lifelong job at an insurance company, placated by the platitudes heaped on him by a longtime coworker and the young man replacing him. But when he accepts the upstart’s invitation to return to the office and give him a few pointers, he receives the royal brush-off and spies his life’s work sitting in boxes on the curb for the trash man to pick up. He’d looked forward to a cozy retirement with his wife, Helen, traveling around the country in their cushy mobile home, but now that he’s home with her all the time he finds all of her idiosyncrasies intolerable. When Helen (June Squibb) dies suddenly, his marital apathy leaves him with a load of guilt that is only eased when he discovers that years ago, she had an affair with the friend who so eloquently toasted him at the retirement banquet.
So begins a quest of self-discovery that will last throughout the course of the movie. Feeling betrayed, rejected and useless, Warren embarks on a road trip, revisiting the sites of his early life and hoping to rekindle some forgotten memories. But everywhere he goes, it seems life has gone on with no record of his existence. He feels utterly obsolete. Even his beloved daughter, Jeannie (Hope Davis), about to be wed to a waterbed salesman, Randall (Dermott Mulroney), of whom Warren disapproves, rejects him, and Warren must sit idly by and watch as his daughter marries into an oddball family and out of her father’s life.
Everything in the film points to the emptiness that consumes Warren. The sparse score adds to film’s overall mood of uneasy quietude. Warren himself is largely silent. He appears to be passive-aggressive, always careful not to ruffle any feathers but inwardly seething about the unfairness of his life. This isn’t to say that he is a wholly admirable character. He is very self-centered and used to being taken care of. He doesn’t have the nasty streak displayed by many of Nicholson’s characters, but he also lacks Nicholson’s abundant charm. He’s a hollow man who only truly opens up and allows himself his full range of emotions in his letters to Ndugu, a young African boy he decides to sponsor. Along with 22 dollars a week, he sends the child poignant reflections and virulent rants that the audience hears in voiceover while observing Warren’s activities.
Nicholson is fantastic as the disenfranchised Warren, a decent everyman who feels his life is devoid of meaning. He truly carries the film. Although it is clear Warren despises Randall, I thought Mulroney made the character very likable. A bit of a do-nothing, perhaps, but a very nice guy who loves Warren’s daughter and is always pleasant to Warren in spite of the latter’s thinly veiled hostility. Davis, meanwhile, seemed to go out of her way to make Jeannie unlikable, perhaps to emphasize Warren’s shaky grasp of reality. His sweet little girl is gone, never to return as far as we can tell. Also worth note is Kathy Bates as Roberta, Randall’s libidinous mother, whose much-ballyhooed hot tub encounter with Warren is brief but uncomfortably hilarious. Howard Hesseman, meanwhile, provides humor as Randall’s easy-going, speech-making father, Larry.
But perhaps the real star of the movie is the one who never appears at all, the unseen foil to Warren’s tortured soul. Somewhere on the other side of the world is a little boy named Ndugu who can’t read but understands that Warren Schmidt cares enough to send him money and write him letters. Warren lives a privileged life that is full of disappointments; Ndugu is an orphan who resides in a state of poverty but feels rich because his life has been touched by this hollow man. About Schmidt is a sad movie about a broken man, but perhaps this one-sided correspondence is just enough to help Warren’s emptiness heal.
This is the movie that afforded us all those glamorous shots of Jack Nicholson looking like something the cat dragged in and promptly ran away from. He’s looking awfully rough here, and with good reason. Warren Schmidt (Nicholson) is a man doomed to the realization that he is 66 years old with nothing to show for it. He retires from a lifelong job at an insurance company, placated by the platitudes heaped on him by a longtime coworker and the young man replacing him. But when he accepts the upstart’s invitation to return to the office and give him a few pointers, he receives the royal brush-off and spies his life’s work sitting in boxes on the curb for the trash man to pick up. He’d looked forward to a cozy retirement with his wife, Helen, traveling around the country in their cushy mobile home, but now that he’s home with her all the time he finds all of her idiosyncrasies intolerable. When Helen (June Squibb) dies suddenly, his marital apathy leaves him with a load of guilt that is only eased when he discovers that years ago, she had an affair with the friend who so eloquently toasted him at the retirement banquet.
So begins a quest of self-discovery that will last throughout the course of the movie. Feeling betrayed, rejected and useless, Warren embarks on a road trip, revisiting the sites of his early life and hoping to rekindle some forgotten memories. But everywhere he goes, it seems life has gone on with no record of his existence. He feels utterly obsolete. Even his beloved daughter, Jeannie (Hope Davis), about to be wed to a waterbed salesman, Randall (Dermott Mulroney), of whom Warren disapproves, rejects him, and Warren must sit idly by and watch as his daughter marries into an oddball family and out of her father’s life.
Everything in the film points to the emptiness that consumes Warren. The sparse score adds to film’s overall mood of uneasy quietude. Warren himself is largely silent. He appears to be passive-aggressive, always careful not to ruffle any feathers but inwardly seething about the unfairness of his life. This isn’t to say that he is a wholly admirable character. He is very self-centered and used to being taken care of. He doesn’t have the nasty streak displayed by many of Nicholson’s characters, but he also lacks Nicholson’s abundant charm. He’s a hollow man who only truly opens up and allows himself his full range of emotions in his letters to Ndugu, a young African boy he decides to sponsor. Along with 22 dollars a week, he sends the child poignant reflections and virulent rants that the audience hears in voiceover while observing Warren’s activities.
Nicholson is fantastic as the disenfranchised Warren, a decent everyman who feels his life is devoid of meaning. He truly carries the film. Although it is clear Warren despises Randall, I thought Mulroney made the character very likable. A bit of a do-nothing, perhaps, but a very nice guy who loves Warren’s daughter and is always pleasant to Warren in spite of the latter’s thinly veiled hostility. Davis, meanwhile, seemed to go out of her way to make Jeannie unlikable, perhaps to emphasize Warren’s shaky grasp of reality. His sweet little girl is gone, never to return as far as we can tell. Also worth note is Kathy Bates as Roberta, Randall’s libidinous mother, whose much-ballyhooed hot tub encounter with Warren is brief but uncomfortably hilarious. Howard Hesseman, meanwhile, provides humor as Randall’s easy-going, speech-making father, Larry.
But perhaps the real star of the movie is the one who never appears at all, the unseen foil to Warren’s tortured soul. Somewhere on the other side of the world is a little boy named Ndugu who can’t read but understands that Warren Schmidt cares enough to send him money and write him letters. Warren lives a privileged life that is full of disappointments; Ndugu is an orphan who resides in a state of poverty but feels rich because his life has been touched by this hollow man. About Schmidt is a sad movie about a broken man, but perhaps this one-sided correspondence is just enough to help Warren’s emptiness heal.
Monday, April 26, 2004
Spunky Seven-Year-Old Saves Her Family (Or Tries To)
Ramona and Her Father finds Ramona Quimby in second grade, though
this volume barely makes mention of what is going on at school. The
focus here is on her family and on Ramona’s worries that she is the only
happy member left. The predominant source of stress in the household is
the fact that her father lost his job. Now he spends every day at home,
growing more and more irritable as he waits in vain for a job offer.
Her mother is nearly as ornery, since she works longs hours every day at
a doctor’s office. Her sister Beezus is entering into “that difficult
age” and beginning to display disagreeable behavior; Ramona is startled
to find Beezus getting into trouble as much as her. Adding to Beezus’
troubles is the fact that she must take Creative Writing, a subject she
has always hated because she feels it requires more imagination than she
has. Not even Picky-picky, the family cat, is happy, since the loss of
Mr. Quimby’s job meant major budgetary cutbacks, including switching to
the cheapest brand of cat food.
Little of Ramona’s famously awful behavior remains in this book, though her creativity and determination get her into trouble a few times. All she wants is to make her family, and most especially her once-so-jovial father, happy again. Early in the book, she decides she can save her family by landing herself in a television commercial and earning a million dollars, but after the practice crown she makes out of briars becomes entangled in her hair, taking hours to remove, she gives up on the bread-winning idea, uplifted by her father's assurance that he would never trade her for a million dollars. That is only the start of the troubles she faces in this book, however.
Her central battle in this book is a prolonged campaign, aided and initiated by Beezus, to convince Mr. Quimby to give up smoking. Since losing his job, he smokes more than ever, and the girls are increasingly concerned about his health. Mr. Quimby does not respond well to the barrage of anti-smoking signs and messages that begin popping up throughout the house, and Ramona begins to question the nobility of her efforts and wonder whether they will cause her father to stop loving her. Ramona has always been a "Daddy's girl," and the book allows for some wonderfully tender moments that affirm the fact that while outside pressures may make Mr. Quimby unusually cross, he will never abandon his love for his second daughter.
In the midst of these family troubles, Cleary focuses on the holidays of Halloween and Christmas, each of which comes complete with its own combination of cheer and calamity. Ramona matures considerably, often substituting self-centeredness with empathy for her family members. For the first time, she begins to understand some of the problems that come with growing up and must come to accept that no family is perfect and sometimes even grown-ups encounter situations that are difficult to handle. Like Cleary's other books, this is written in simple language that makes it accessible to children the age of the protagonist, but the style is engaging enough to entrap even adults. Its nearly 200 pages, broken up into seven chapters, are easily manageable for a child and can be read by an adult in two or three hours. A Newbery Honor book, Ramona and her Father is a fine addition to the series and one of the best of the Ramona books.
Little of Ramona’s famously awful behavior remains in this book, though her creativity and determination get her into trouble a few times. All she wants is to make her family, and most especially her once-so-jovial father, happy again. Early in the book, she decides she can save her family by landing herself in a television commercial and earning a million dollars, but after the practice crown she makes out of briars becomes entangled in her hair, taking hours to remove, she gives up on the bread-winning idea, uplifted by her father's assurance that he would never trade her for a million dollars. That is only the start of the troubles she faces in this book, however.
Her central battle in this book is a prolonged campaign, aided and initiated by Beezus, to convince Mr. Quimby to give up smoking. Since losing his job, he smokes more than ever, and the girls are increasingly concerned about his health. Mr. Quimby does not respond well to the barrage of anti-smoking signs and messages that begin popping up throughout the house, and Ramona begins to question the nobility of her efforts and wonder whether they will cause her father to stop loving her. Ramona has always been a "Daddy's girl," and the book allows for some wonderfully tender moments that affirm the fact that while outside pressures may make Mr. Quimby unusually cross, he will never abandon his love for his second daughter.
In the midst of these family troubles, Cleary focuses on the holidays of Halloween and Christmas, each of which comes complete with its own combination of cheer and calamity. Ramona matures considerably, often substituting self-centeredness with empathy for her family members. For the first time, she begins to understand some of the problems that come with growing up and must come to accept that no family is perfect and sometimes even grown-ups encounter situations that are difficult to handle. Like Cleary's other books, this is written in simple language that makes it accessible to children the age of the protagonist, but the style is engaging enough to entrap even adults. Its nearly 200 pages, broken up into seven chapters, are easily manageable for a child and can be read by an adult in two or three hours. A Newbery Honor book, Ramona and her Father is a fine addition to the series and one of the best of the Ramona books.
Saturday, April 24, 2004
Ramona's Still a Pest, but at Least She's Trying
Irrepressible Ramona Quimby has been waiting her whole life to go to
school like all the other children on Klickitat Street, and in Ramona the Pest,
she finally gets that wish. She also goes from being the neighborhood
nuisance viewed by Henry Huggins and the pesky sister perceived by her
sister Beezus to being the grown-up little girl she sees herself as.
Beezus and Henry still find her annoying, but theirs are no longer the
prevailing perspectives. Instead, we see Ramona’s first days of
kindergarten through her eyes.
Although her class turns out to be not exactly what she’d expected, she still decides that she loves kindergarten. She loves being around other kids her own age, playing games outside, chasing adorable little Davy around the schoolyard before class begins, learning how to write her name, and singing the song every morning about the “dawnzer” which gives off “lee light.” But most of all, she loves her teacher, Miss Binney, who is young, pretty, and sweet, and most importantly understands where Ramona is coming from.
This landmark year is full of triumphs for Ramona. She is grown-up enough to walk to school without adult supervision. She discovers that her last name begins with a fascinating letter and designs her own special version of the letter Q, complete with kittycat ears and whiskers to match the tail. Thanks to the innovation of Howie, her trike transforms from a vehicle too babyish to be suitable for a big kindergartener to a real two-wheeler, albeit a very wobbly and off-balance one.
Kindergarten is not free of frustrations, though. She must walk to school every day with her best friend Howie Kemp, whose demeanor is frightfully dull in comparison to her state of constant excitement. He always seems bored, which aggravates Ramona immensely. But Howie is nothing compared to Susan, a bossy girl in her class whose hair is filled with luxurious blonde curls. Every time she sees Susan, she longs to pull one of those nice, thick curls down and watch it spring up with a satisfying boing! Susan’s infuriating behavior only makes her urge stronger.
Cleary’s descriptions of Ramona’s exploits are hilarious. Though Ramona longs for the perks the older children in the neighborhood enjoy, she is unprepared to accept responsibility all of the time. She can’t be quiet and sensible like Beezus, and her stubbornness gets her into all sorts of trouble, from hiding between two garbage cans to avoid going to kindergarten with a substitute teacher to being temporarily expelled from the class after failing to resist her desire to yoink Susan’s curls. Much of the pest perceived by the long-suffering Beezus is present, but the readers begin to see that, aside from a few times when an irrational temper tantrum just feels so right, Ramona really does want to be good. A great read for anyone who can identify with the delicacy of balancing responsibility and spunk.
Although her class turns out to be not exactly what she’d expected, she still decides that she loves kindergarten. She loves being around other kids her own age, playing games outside, chasing adorable little Davy around the schoolyard before class begins, learning how to write her name, and singing the song every morning about the “dawnzer” which gives off “lee light.” But most of all, she loves her teacher, Miss Binney, who is young, pretty, and sweet, and most importantly understands where Ramona is coming from.
This landmark year is full of triumphs for Ramona. She is grown-up enough to walk to school without adult supervision. She discovers that her last name begins with a fascinating letter and designs her own special version of the letter Q, complete with kittycat ears and whiskers to match the tail. Thanks to the innovation of Howie, her trike transforms from a vehicle too babyish to be suitable for a big kindergartener to a real two-wheeler, albeit a very wobbly and off-balance one.
Kindergarten is not free of frustrations, though. She must walk to school every day with her best friend Howie Kemp, whose demeanor is frightfully dull in comparison to her state of constant excitement. He always seems bored, which aggravates Ramona immensely. But Howie is nothing compared to Susan, a bossy girl in her class whose hair is filled with luxurious blonde curls. Every time she sees Susan, she longs to pull one of those nice, thick curls down and watch it spring up with a satisfying boing! Susan’s infuriating behavior only makes her urge stronger.
Cleary’s descriptions of Ramona’s exploits are hilarious. Though Ramona longs for the perks the older children in the neighborhood enjoy, she is unprepared to accept responsibility all of the time. She can’t be quiet and sensible like Beezus, and her stubbornness gets her into all sorts of trouble, from hiding between two garbage cans to avoid going to kindergarten with a substitute teacher to being temporarily expelled from the class after failing to resist her desire to yoink Susan’s curls. Much of the pest perceived by the long-suffering Beezus is present, but the readers begin to see that, aside from a few times when an irrational temper tantrum just feels so right, Ramona really does want to be good. A great read for anyone who can identify with the delicacy of balancing responsibility and spunk.
Ramona the Brat Gains Perspective
Ramona the Brave marks a new chapter in this energetic girl’s
life. Ramona Quimby has completed kindergarten and will soon enter the
first grade in the sturdy brick building with her sister Beezus, who,
after a traumatic name-calling incident with some boys in the park,
rejects her acquired nickname and reverts to her birth name, Beatrice.
Waiting is hard, since the summer is hot and boring with her friends
away at summer camps or visiting relatives and Beezus is often cross with
her. Her primary source of excitement is a game she and her best friend
Howie Kemp invented called Brick Factory whose object is to smash bricks
into powder with rocks. But Beatrice finds this noisy, messy activity
particularly maddening, so Ramona can only play it when Howie is
available. Both girls long for something interesting to break up the
monotony of their summer.
As summer draws to a close, that something comes in the form of an addition to the house, a new room so that Beatrice and Ramona can have their own space. By the time the first day of school finally arrives, Ramona has something exciting to talk about: a hole in the side of her house. But when her glorious show and tell story goes awry, she fears it may be an indication of things to come. When the new room she wanted so badly is completed, she realizes that she is not quite so brave as she had thought and misses her sister’s company in the lonely dark of the newly finished room.
Ramona was so looking forward to first grade, but now that she is here, she misses her carefree kindergarten lifestyle and always understanding teacher. Mrs. Griggs, the first grade teacher, is stricter, the work this year is harder, and her prissy classmate Susan continues to torment her. Worst of all, she copies Ramona’s paper bag owl and receives lavish praise from Mrs. Griggs. First grade is shaping up to be very unfair indeed.
The more unpleasant first grade becomes, the more Beatrice raves about the sixth grade and her wonderful teacher, Mr. Cardoza. More and more, Ramona wishes she could return to the classroom of her beloved Miss Binney. But unexpectedly, Beatrice understands Ramona’s first grade struggles and helps her to face school even when it brings disappointments.
Although Ramona is still free-spirited and still behaves badly at times, Ramona the Brave shows her beginning to understand how others view her. This strange new revelation encourages Ramona to think a bit more before she acts. In this book, author Beverly Cleary moves her further away from her persona as Ramona the brat and towards the creative but self-controlled individual she is bursting to become.
As summer draws to a close, that something comes in the form of an addition to the house, a new room so that Beatrice and Ramona can have their own space. By the time the first day of school finally arrives, Ramona has something exciting to talk about: a hole in the side of her house. But when her glorious show and tell story goes awry, she fears it may be an indication of things to come. When the new room she wanted so badly is completed, she realizes that she is not quite so brave as she had thought and misses her sister’s company in the lonely dark of the newly finished room.
Ramona was so looking forward to first grade, but now that she is here, she misses her carefree kindergarten lifestyle and always understanding teacher. Mrs. Griggs, the first grade teacher, is stricter, the work this year is harder, and her prissy classmate Susan continues to torment her. Worst of all, she copies Ramona’s paper bag owl and receives lavish praise from Mrs. Griggs. First grade is shaping up to be very unfair indeed.
The more unpleasant first grade becomes, the more Beatrice raves about the sixth grade and her wonderful teacher, Mr. Cardoza. More and more, Ramona wishes she could return to the classroom of her beloved Miss Binney. But unexpectedly, Beatrice understands Ramona’s first grade struggles and helps her to face school even when it brings disappointments.
Although Ramona is still free-spirited and still behaves badly at times, Ramona the Brave shows her beginning to understand how others view her. This strange new revelation encourages Ramona to think a bit more before she acts. In this book, author Beverly Cleary moves her further away from her persona as Ramona the brat and towards the creative but self-controlled individual she is bursting to become.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)