Thursday, September 30, 2010
GLEE - Britney / Brittany
Visits to the dentist produce Britney Spears-centered hallucinations in the second episode of GLEE's second season.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Outsourced
An Indian call center plus a catalog full of cheap gags equals juvenile humor in the TV series Outsourced.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
New Hawaii Five-O
I watched Hawaii Five-O mostly for Daniel Dae Kim; I'll probably stick around a while.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Midnight Bingo
An organized bingo event can be a surprisingly fun way to bring college students together.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
LOST - House of the Rising Sun
Sun Kwon is the focus of LOST's punnily titled fifth episode, House of the Rising Sun.
GLEE - Audition
A new football coach and two potential new Glee Clubbers are some of the highlights of the first episode of GLEE's second season.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Mr. Putter and Mrs. Teaberry
True romance can bloom even in Easy Readers. Here's to Mr. Putter and Mrs. Teaberry!
The Twilight Series
The Twilight series isn't as good as Harry Potter, but it's still pretty engrossing, and it gets better as it goes along.
Five Favorite Minor LOST Flashback Characters
It's always hard to pick a top five anything, but I really love Sam Austen, Tom Brennan, Essam, Mr. Kwon and Annie.
Friday, September 17, 2010
J. K. Rowling's Careful Craftsmanship Encourages The Great Snape Debate
Back in 2007, I received a phone call from the bookstore where I had
worked over the winter season. On the phone was one of my colleagues,
excitedly informing me about a Borders exclusive book intended for
precisely the sort of invested Harry Potter fan that she knew me to be.
How could I say no to such an enthusiastic endorsement? I made my way
over to the mall and purchased The Great Snape Debate, a book
that lays out two opposing cases regarding Severus Snape, considered by
many to be the most intriguing character in the series.
On one cover is The Case for Snape’s Innocence and the illustration of a fiery phoenix symbolizing his loyalty to Dumbledore. Flipping the book over led me to The Case for Snape’s Guilt, accompanied by a fearsome green snake symbolizing his allegiance to Lord Voldemort. The book came out mere months before the final installment of the trilogy, so its window of prime interest was limited, as evidenced by the fact it turned up in the bargain bin by the end of the year.
Nonetheless, for those who know Harry Potter only through the movies, there is room for speculation. Granted, most people who would be interested enough in Snape’s allegiances to read this book would have read the series itself by now, and some of the material covered in The Great Snape Debate does not apply to the movies, in which his presence is minimal. Still, with the final installments fast approaching, I thought this would be a good time to brush off this fun little guide. If nothing else, it’s a testament to how well J. K. Rowling constructed the character, and as such, it might be equally enjoyed by those who have already read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
For the most part, the two halves of the book mirror each other extremely well, with five complementary chapters in each. A lengthy sixth chapter entitled Who Is Snape?, written by acclaimed science fiction author Orson Scott Card, throws the balance in favor of the innocence section by about 30 pages, and I find it odd that no parallel chapter exists on the other side. While his speculations include the possibility that Snape’s intentions have been self-serving or malicious, he clearly sides with the notion that this surly headmaster will ultimately prove himself to be “one of the good guys.” This segment of the book is the most scholarly, and it also includes an intriguing comparison with Gollum, one of my favorite literary characters, as Card describes both of them as morally ambiguous characters who become much more central to the story than originally intended.
The first chapter in each half gives a general overview of reasons to believe that Snape is either malicious or benevolent, and each concludes with a rather snarky top ten list citing reasons that readers either love or hate him. Sprinkled throughout are random references to pop culture; for instance, the “love him” list mentions Mission: Impossible and Grey’s Anatomy, while the “hate him” list references America’s Next Top Model and Herbie: Fully Loaded. Mostly good for a chuckle, as well as a bit of eye-rolling. The first chapters themselves lay out fairly convincing cases for Snape’s innocence and guilt, using quotes from the book and Rowling, literary precedents and logical detective work.
The second chapters - Snape the Villain and Snape the Hero - continue the debate, discussing whether he is a more intriguing character as a villain or as a hero. These chapters, too, are loaded with nods to pop culture, several of which are totally irrelevant but good for a laugh. For instance, the villain chapter muses that Snape’s guilty pleasure is Dancing With the Stars. More pertinent is the hero chapter’s list of anti-heroes from literature, film and television, including Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre, Han Solo in Star Wars, Elphaba in Wicked and Kate Austen in LOST.
By the third chapters, which focus on Snape’s biographical details, I had grown quite tired of the incessant references to his “greying underpants” in the traumatic scene that Harry witnesses in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. The fixation strikes me as rather juvenile. Then again, the list of songs found on Snape’s iPod and the short essay on various anagrams of his name are pretty silly as well. More compelling is the textual evidence given on both sides suggesting the Snape has led either an underhanded or an upstanding life. For instance, the guilty side mentions his invention and implementation of the violent Sectumsempra spell, while the innocent side makes note of the fact that Hermione’s cat Crookshanks, whose half-Kneazle status renders him an especially good judge of character, goes ballistic at the sight of a traitor in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban but seems to have no objection to Snape.
The fourth chapters focus entirely on the movie career of Alan Rickman and cancel each other out, proving only that Rickman is an exceptionally talented actor who is equally adept at portraying heroes and villains. His magnificent portrayal of brooding Colonel Brandon in Sense and Sensibility is no more evidence of Snape’s sympathetic nature than his seething portrayal of the malevolent Sheriff of Nottingham in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves is evidence of Snape’s vice. However, there can be little doubt that despite his limited screen time, Rickman’s performance is a factor in the fascination with this character, so I didn’t mind the diversion much, especially since it gave me a decent idea which of Rickman’s movies I would be most interested in watching.
Finally, the last chapters have to do with Slytherin, the House of which Snape is the Head. The guilty side mentions the long-held associations between snakes and evil and notes the fact that very few Slytherins throughout the series are portrayed in a sympathetic manner. Meanwhile, the innocent side points out that the Slytherins’ key trait, ambition, can be a very positive thing, and it also discusses some Slytherins who seem to break the pattern, including vain but kind Horace Slughorn and sneering but helpful Phineas Nigellus Black. Also interesting is a sidebar questioning whether Snape has ever loved anyone.
The publication of this book, whose contributors include Amy Berner, Joyce Millman and the aforementioned Card, demonstrates that I was far from the only one deeply invested in the question of Severus Snape’s loyalties. A similar debate raged throughout LOST’s fan community in regard to Ben Linus, and I found myself applying some of the logic in this book to that character, whom I have often compared to Snape. J. K. Rowling’s series has inspired dozens of books of commentary. This one is nowhere near the most detailed or eye-opening, and at times it‘s just plain silly. However, for those who find this character as fascinating as I do, The Great Snape Debate is worth diving into.
On one cover is The Case for Snape’s Innocence and the illustration of a fiery phoenix symbolizing his loyalty to Dumbledore. Flipping the book over led me to The Case for Snape’s Guilt, accompanied by a fearsome green snake symbolizing his allegiance to Lord Voldemort. The book came out mere months before the final installment of the trilogy, so its window of prime interest was limited, as evidenced by the fact it turned up in the bargain bin by the end of the year.
Nonetheless, for those who know Harry Potter only through the movies, there is room for speculation. Granted, most people who would be interested enough in Snape’s allegiances to read this book would have read the series itself by now, and some of the material covered in The Great Snape Debate does not apply to the movies, in which his presence is minimal. Still, with the final installments fast approaching, I thought this would be a good time to brush off this fun little guide. If nothing else, it’s a testament to how well J. K. Rowling constructed the character, and as such, it might be equally enjoyed by those who have already read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
For the most part, the two halves of the book mirror each other extremely well, with five complementary chapters in each. A lengthy sixth chapter entitled Who Is Snape?, written by acclaimed science fiction author Orson Scott Card, throws the balance in favor of the innocence section by about 30 pages, and I find it odd that no parallel chapter exists on the other side. While his speculations include the possibility that Snape’s intentions have been self-serving or malicious, he clearly sides with the notion that this surly headmaster will ultimately prove himself to be “one of the good guys.” This segment of the book is the most scholarly, and it also includes an intriguing comparison with Gollum, one of my favorite literary characters, as Card describes both of them as morally ambiguous characters who become much more central to the story than originally intended.
The first chapter in each half gives a general overview of reasons to believe that Snape is either malicious or benevolent, and each concludes with a rather snarky top ten list citing reasons that readers either love or hate him. Sprinkled throughout are random references to pop culture; for instance, the “love him” list mentions Mission: Impossible and Grey’s Anatomy, while the “hate him” list references America’s Next Top Model and Herbie: Fully Loaded. Mostly good for a chuckle, as well as a bit of eye-rolling. The first chapters themselves lay out fairly convincing cases for Snape’s innocence and guilt, using quotes from the book and Rowling, literary precedents and logical detective work.
The second chapters - Snape the Villain and Snape the Hero - continue the debate, discussing whether he is a more intriguing character as a villain or as a hero. These chapters, too, are loaded with nods to pop culture, several of which are totally irrelevant but good for a laugh. For instance, the villain chapter muses that Snape’s guilty pleasure is Dancing With the Stars. More pertinent is the hero chapter’s list of anti-heroes from literature, film and television, including Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre, Han Solo in Star Wars, Elphaba in Wicked and Kate Austen in LOST.
By the third chapters, which focus on Snape’s biographical details, I had grown quite tired of the incessant references to his “greying underpants” in the traumatic scene that Harry witnesses in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. The fixation strikes me as rather juvenile. Then again, the list of songs found on Snape’s iPod and the short essay on various anagrams of his name are pretty silly as well. More compelling is the textual evidence given on both sides suggesting the Snape has led either an underhanded or an upstanding life. For instance, the guilty side mentions his invention and implementation of the violent Sectumsempra spell, while the innocent side makes note of the fact that Hermione’s cat Crookshanks, whose half-Kneazle status renders him an especially good judge of character, goes ballistic at the sight of a traitor in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban but seems to have no objection to Snape.
The fourth chapters focus entirely on the movie career of Alan Rickman and cancel each other out, proving only that Rickman is an exceptionally talented actor who is equally adept at portraying heroes and villains. His magnificent portrayal of brooding Colonel Brandon in Sense and Sensibility is no more evidence of Snape’s sympathetic nature than his seething portrayal of the malevolent Sheriff of Nottingham in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves is evidence of Snape’s vice. However, there can be little doubt that despite his limited screen time, Rickman’s performance is a factor in the fascination with this character, so I didn’t mind the diversion much, especially since it gave me a decent idea which of Rickman’s movies I would be most interested in watching.
Finally, the last chapters have to do with Slytherin, the House of which Snape is the Head. The guilty side mentions the long-held associations between snakes and evil and notes the fact that very few Slytherins throughout the series are portrayed in a sympathetic manner. Meanwhile, the innocent side points out that the Slytherins’ key trait, ambition, can be a very positive thing, and it also discusses some Slytherins who seem to break the pattern, including vain but kind Horace Slughorn and sneering but helpful Phineas Nigellus Black. Also interesting is a sidebar questioning whether Snape has ever loved anyone.
The publication of this book, whose contributors include Amy Berner, Joyce Millman and the aforementioned Card, demonstrates that I was far from the only one deeply invested in the question of Severus Snape’s loyalties. A similar debate raged throughout LOST’s fan community in regard to Ben Linus, and I found myself applying some of the logic in this book to that character, whom I have often compared to Snape. J. K. Rowling’s series has inspired dozens of books of commentary. This one is nowhere near the most detailed or eye-opening, and at times it‘s just plain silly. However, for those who find this character as fascinating as I do, The Great Snape Debate is worth diving into.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Grandmas and Grandpas Both Give Their Best to Their Grandkids
So many children are fortunate enough to have grandparents who can dote on them and teach them about the world. In What Grandmas Do Best / What Grandpas Do Best, Laura Numeroff and illustrator Lynn Munsinger
explore the power of this bond. Both Numeroff and Munsinger have
numerous books to their credit, most involving animals. This one is
especially simplistic, especially on Numeroff’s end, but I like the
clever concept behind the book. It’s not the sort of book that seems
likely to demand frequent repeat readings, but it would make a nice
addition to a child’s shelf.
There are only 12 sentences in this book - and six of them are exactly the same as the other six, with the exception of one word. Half of the book shows all the things that Grandmas can do; the other half, which is read by turning the book upside down and opening the book from the opposite cover, has to do with grandpas’ activities. And what do you know? They’re the same things. This encourages a sense of gender equality and allows for some fun as we see how the grandpas and grandmas approach the same things differently.
At the same time, it makes for a rather uninvolved book, especially since ten of the twelve sentences begin “Grandmas / Grandpas can...” And the last sentence in each half of the book merely delays that opening with an introductory clause. The first five sentences in each half contain three activities per sentence, with each activity on a separate page. This makes the format very predictable and a bit stilted, since there is no variety in the sentence structure.
However, while Numeroff might be accused of sacrificing creativity for structure here, Munsinger’s illustrations are engaging as always. For each of the ten initial sentences, Munsinger provides three illustrations of the same child-grandparent pair. Hence, we feel like we’re getting a bit of a peek into the lives of ten different families. Most pictures show only the child and the grandparent, always working and playing together in close quarters.
The final page of each half, meanwhile, shows all five pairs scattered around a white page. Perhaps the most engaging of the illustrations are actually the two-page spreads immediately inside the book, which bring all the characters into close proximity with each other in a couple of outdoorsy scenes. There’s even some interaction among them, as the dogs and pigs on the Grandpa side share an umbrella and the raccoons and mice on the Grandma side work together to build a sandcastle.
The unique layout of the book, coupled with the adorable illustrations, makes it a cute choice for very young children to read with their own grandparents. It might even spark an idea or two about what they can do on their next outing, and perhaps reading it will inspire a brand-new grandparent-grandchild portrait. While this is not the most complex project either Numeroff or Munsinger has taken on, What Grandmas Do Best / What Grandpas Do Best is a very cute tribute to the love that grandparents and grandchildren share.
There are only 12 sentences in this book - and six of them are exactly the same as the other six, with the exception of one word. Half of the book shows all the things that Grandmas can do; the other half, which is read by turning the book upside down and opening the book from the opposite cover, has to do with grandpas’ activities. And what do you know? They’re the same things. This encourages a sense of gender equality and allows for some fun as we see how the grandpas and grandmas approach the same things differently.
At the same time, it makes for a rather uninvolved book, especially since ten of the twelve sentences begin “Grandmas / Grandpas can...” And the last sentence in each half of the book merely delays that opening with an introductory clause. The first five sentences in each half contain three activities per sentence, with each activity on a separate page. This makes the format very predictable and a bit stilted, since there is no variety in the sentence structure.
However, while Numeroff might be accused of sacrificing creativity for structure here, Munsinger’s illustrations are engaging as always. For each of the ten initial sentences, Munsinger provides three illustrations of the same child-grandparent pair. Hence, we feel like we’re getting a bit of a peek into the lives of ten different families. Most pictures show only the child and the grandparent, always working and playing together in close quarters.
The final page of each half, meanwhile, shows all five pairs scattered around a white page. Perhaps the most engaging of the illustrations are actually the two-page spreads immediately inside the book, which bring all the characters into close proximity with each other in a couple of outdoorsy scenes. There’s even some interaction among them, as the dogs and pigs on the Grandpa side share an umbrella and the raccoons and mice on the Grandma side work together to build a sandcastle.
The unique layout of the book, coupled with the adorable illustrations, makes it a cute choice for very young children to read with their own grandparents. It might even spark an idea or two about what they can do on their next outing, and perhaps reading it will inspire a brand-new grandparent-grandchild portrait. While this is not the most complex project either Numeroff or Munsinger has taken on, What Grandmas Do Best / What Grandpas Do Best is a very cute tribute to the love that grandparents and grandchildren share.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
First Christmas Books
Lots of Christmas picture books have to do with the central character's first experience of the holiday.
Bif Bang Pow! Honors Chicken Magnate Hurley - Make That Hugo - Reyes
Today marks the release of Hurley,
the latest album by Weezer, which features Jorge Garcia’s smiling face
on the cover. I was thinking about that when my brother suddenly veered
from his traditional birthday dinner plans last night, suggesting we go
to Outback Steakhouse instead of Red Lobster. There’s a goofy moment in
the two-hour premiere of LOST’s sixth season in which we overhear
the Sideways version of Hurley, owner of the Mr. Cluck’s Chicken
Franchise, agitatedly discussing the possibility of litigation involving
his new Australia-inspired chicken meals, with the implication that
Outback isn’t too pleased with his new ad campaign. We don’t get to
actually see the ad campaign on the show, but we hear it referenced and
see him in costume in posters around the restaurant, so now I can’t help
linking Hurley with the Outback. Apparently neither could whoever
designed the Hurley bobblehead from Bif Bang Pow!
After I bought the Ben bobblehead released last year and the Richard, Daniel and Dr. Chang bobbleheads released this year, I hoped that more would follow, so I was glad to catch wind of the new series, of which Hurley is the last. However, I was a bit perplexed by his appearance. Hurley is one of the most iconic characters in LOST, but it’s not because of his Chicken Shack. It seems a little odd to model him after his Sideways incarnation, especially when the commercial this bobblehead references only aired at the 2009 San Diego Comic-Con. Granted, anyone who’s a big enough fan to buy this bobblehead has probably already watched the ad on Youtube, but this certainly isn’t Hurley as we usually saw him.
What’s more, as Garcia himself pointed out on his blog months ago, no one ever refers to Mr. Reyes as Hurley, including himself. In his life as a placid fried chicken magnate, Hurley is always “Hugo,” so it seems that the name on the front of the base should read “Hugo Reyes” instead of “Hurley Reyes”. Still, LOST is a television show about a group of people who crash on an Island en route from Sydney, so depicting Hurley in his Outback garb is a nice way to nod at that continent’s importance to the show.
Like the other LOST bobbleheads, Hurley is about seven inches tall from the top of his head to the bottom of the base. Unlike the others, however, Hurley wears a hat, which adds a couple of inches to his height. In terms of girth, owning a fried chicken franchise seems to have worked wonders for his figure; he’s robust but far trimmer than either of his action figure counterparts.
Hurley stands on a square black base with his name on the front and “LOST” on the back, both in white. The top of the base features a black and white checkered pattern, though oddly, the pattern is sustained in the back four rows but not in the front one. The front portion of the top of the base also features a red banner of sorts that has a picture of the Mr. Cluck’s smiling chicken head on the left and the words “Mr. CLUCK’S CHICKEN SHACK” on the right. A similar chicken head that faces the opposite direction appears on the pocket of Hurley’s shirt. Of course, I’m sure he would be happier not to end up on someone’s plate, but humane Hugo does go out of his way to say that Mr. Cluck’s uses free-range chickens. This was the chicken I thought would be gracing the “free” keychain that ABC used to lure me into purchasing my bobblehead from the official LOST store; alas, what I got was a scary-looking naked rubber chicken that appears to be an egg-laying zombie rooster. But I digress...
Hurley is quite dapper all dressed for an Outback adventure. He looks like he conquered the walkabout John Locke intended to take and is now a master of his own destiny. “On a recent vacation to Australia, I had a dream while camping under the stars of the Outback,” he says on that obscure commercial. “A dream... of chicken.” Well, we all have different dreams, I suppose. At least the new meals are healthier (roasted instead of fried), and he uses the profits from his franchise to fund numerous charitable causes. While the smile on his face would not be expansive enough to earn bobblehead Hurley a spot on the cover of Weezer’s new album, it’s clear that he’s content.
Hurley wears mid-tone brown boots, grayish khaki pants and a dark brown button-up shirt that matches his Outback hat, which has a wide brim and a mid-tone brown strap with white stripes. His hair is thick, wavy and not quite shoulder length, and he has a thin mustache and a short but extensive beard that covers the lower portion of his face and extends to the area of his ears, which are invisible behind his hair. His left arm rests at his side, holding a boomerang, while his right is bent as he clings to the didgeridoo slung over his shoulder with some thick rope. I have serious doubts as to whether good ol’ fun-time Hurley would have the dexterity to properly use either of these, but Sideways Hurley isn’t nearly so bumbling, so maybe he managed to get the knack. More likely, he just thought they looked cool... and they do!
The brim of the hat is handy because all you need to do is tap it, and Hurley’s head will begin to bobble. Because of that hat, he’s the tallest bobblehead in the collection, and I don’t see that distinction being threatened anytime soon, since headgear of any kind showed up very rarely on LOST. While I get the impression that Bif Bang Pow! intends for the line to continue, I haven’t heard any word on what characters might be next, but I’m very glad that Hurley got the bobblehead treatment. Or at least Hugo did.
After I bought the Ben bobblehead released last year and the Richard, Daniel and Dr. Chang bobbleheads released this year, I hoped that more would follow, so I was glad to catch wind of the new series, of which Hurley is the last. However, I was a bit perplexed by his appearance. Hurley is one of the most iconic characters in LOST, but it’s not because of his Chicken Shack. It seems a little odd to model him after his Sideways incarnation, especially when the commercial this bobblehead references only aired at the 2009 San Diego Comic-Con. Granted, anyone who’s a big enough fan to buy this bobblehead has probably already watched the ad on Youtube, but this certainly isn’t Hurley as we usually saw him.
What’s more, as Garcia himself pointed out on his blog months ago, no one ever refers to Mr. Reyes as Hurley, including himself. In his life as a placid fried chicken magnate, Hurley is always “Hugo,” so it seems that the name on the front of the base should read “Hugo Reyes” instead of “Hurley Reyes”. Still, LOST is a television show about a group of people who crash on an Island en route from Sydney, so depicting Hurley in his Outback garb is a nice way to nod at that continent’s importance to the show.
Like the other LOST bobbleheads, Hurley is about seven inches tall from the top of his head to the bottom of the base. Unlike the others, however, Hurley wears a hat, which adds a couple of inches to his height. In terms of girth, owning a fried chicken franchise seems to have worked wonders for his figure; he’s robust but far trimmer than either of his action figure counterparts.
Hurley stands on a square black base with his name on the front and “LOST” on the back, both in white. The top of the base features a black and white checkered pattern, though oddly, the pattern is sustained in the back four rows but not in the front one. The front portion of the top of the base also features a red banner of sorts that has a picture of the Mr. Cluck’s smiling chicken head on the left and the words “Mr. CLUCK’S CHICKEN SHACK” on the right. A similar chicken head that faces the opposite direction appears on the pocket of Hurley’s shirt. Of course, I’m sure he would be happier not to end up on someone’s plate, but humane Hugo does go out of his way to say that Mr. Cluck’s uses free-range chickens. This was the chicken I thought would be gracing the “free” keychain that ABC used to lure me into purchasing my bobblehead from the official LOST store; alas, what I got was a scary-looking naked rubber chicken that appears to be an egg-laying zombie rooster. But I digress...
Hurley is quite dapper all dressed for an Outback adventure. He looks like he conquered the walkabout John Locke intended to take and is now a master of his own destiny. “On a recent vacation to Australia, I had a dream while camping under the stars of the Outback,” he says on that obscure commercial. “A dream... of chicken.” Well, we all have different dreams, I suppose. At least the new meals are healthier (roasted instead of fried), and he uses the profits from his franchise to fund numerous charitable causes. While the smile on his face would not be expansive enough to earn bobblehead Hurley a spot on the cover of Weezer’s new album, it’s clear that he’s content.
Hurley wears mid-tone brown boots, grayish khaki pants and a dark brown button-up shirt that matches his Outback hat, which has a wide brim and a mid-tone brown strap with white stripes. His hair is thick, wavy and not quite shoulder length, and he has a thin mustache and a short but extensive beard that covers the lower portion of his face and extends to the area of his ears, which are invisible behind his hair. His left arm rests at his side, holding a boomerang, while his right is bent as he clings to the didgeridoo slung over his shoulder with some thick rope. I have serious doubts as to whether good ol’ fun-time Hurley would have the dexterity to properly use either of these, but Sideways Hurley isn’t nearly so bumbling, so maybe he managed to get the knack. More likely, he just thought they looked cool... and they do!
The brim of the hat is handy because all you need to do is tap it, and Hurley’s head will begin to bobble. Because of that hat, he’s the tallest bobblehead in the collection, and I don’t see that distinction being threatened anytime soon, since headgear of any kind showed up very rarely on LOST. While I get the impression that Bif Bang Pow! intends for the line to continue, I haven’t heard any word on what characters might be next, but I’m very glad that Hurley got the bobblehead treatment. Or at least Hugo did.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Merry Helps Pip Embrace the Water in Don't Be Afraid, Little Pip
Several years ago, I discovered the series of Bear books by Karma Wilson
and Jane Chapman. These charming stories for the 3- to 7-year-old set
merge gentle rhyme and repetition with warm, endearing paintings, and
I’ve found each installment just as enjoyable as the last. While I’ve
read several of Wilson’s other books, she usually works with a different
illustrator outside of the Bear series, so I was excited to find Don’t Be Afraid, Little Pip,
a story about a penguin, and discover that Pip, too, is the star of her
own book series written by Wilson and illustrated by Chapman.
Unlike Bear Snores On and subsequent books in that series, Wilson uses prose for Don’t Be Afraid, Little Pip. She does include a brief bit of verse as the penguins sing of the joys of swimming and other birds sing of the joys of flying, but for the most part, each page includes two or three short paragraphs, much of it dialogue.
In the middle section of the book, Pip wanders off on her own and encounters a petrel and an albatross, and each of them, despite expressing doubts as to whether this will work, issues instructions about how to fly, since she finds that more appealing than swimming. Wilson gives us a good sense of how these birds take flight, while Chapman paints them in intricate detail. It’s easy to see the differences among these three birds.
I love that this is such a different setting from the woodlands Wilson and Chapman usually tread together. One can almost feel the ocean breeze and smell the salty spray while perusing Chapman’s paintings with their varying shades of cool blue, and Pip and her fellow young penguins are adorably awkward as they waddle across the beach.
As an avid Lord of the Rings fan, one thing I love about this book is the fact that Pip’s first friend, the one who eventually helps her through a perilous situation, is named Merry. Coincidence? Perhaps, but even though these penguins are female, it’s easy to draw a parallel between the pairs, especially since Pip seems to be just a bit younger than everyone else. She needs a firm friend to help her face her fears, and one gets the sense that many adventures await these two. Like Bear Feels Scared, this book celebrates the power of friendship to bring one strength in the midst of a frightening situation.
Penguins have become pretty popular subjects for picture books lately, in part due to the success of March of the Penguins and Happy Feet. Children who have embraced Bear and his friends are likely to find just as much to love in this, one of the cutest penguin books I have encountered.
Unlike Bear Snores On and subsequent books in that series, Wilson uses prose for Don’t Be Afraid, Little Pip. She does include a brief bit of verse as the penguins sing of the joys of swimming and other birds sing of the joys of flying, but for the most part, each page includes two or three short paragraphs, much of it dialogue.
In the middle section of the book, Pip wanders off on her own and encounters a petrel and an albatross, and each of them, despite expressing doubts as to whether this will work, issues instructions about how to fly, since she finds that more appealing than swimming. Wilson gives us a good sense of how these birds take flight, while Chapman paints them in intricate detail. It’s easy to see the differences among these three birds.
I love that this is such a different setting from the woodlands Wilson and Chapman usually tread together. One can almost feel the ocean breeze and smell the salty spray while perusing Chapman’s paintings with their varying shades of cool blue, and Pip and her fellow young penguins are adorably awkward as they waddle across the beach.
As an avid Lord of the Rings fan, one thing I love about this book is the fact that Pip’s first friend, the one who eventually helps her through a perilous situation, is named Merry. Coincidence? Perhaps, but even though these penguins are female, it’s easy to draw a parallel between the pairs, especially since Pip seems to be just a bit younger than everyone else. She needs a firm friend to help her face her fears, and one gets the sense that many adventures await these two. Like Bear Feels Scared, this book celebrates the power of friendship to bring one strength in the midst of a frightening situation.
Penguins have become pretty popular subjects for picture books lately, in part due to the success of March of the Penguins and Happy Feet. Children who have embraced Bear and his friends are likely to find just as much to love in this, one of the cutest penguin books I have encountered.
Three Novice Actresses Bring an Epic Journey to the Screen in Rabbit-Proof Fence
I’ve always found Australia a fascinating country. This week, I
discovered that I still have a lot to learn about this continent with a
dazzling array of wildlife and a crucial connection to several of my
favorite movies, television shows and songs. Rabbit-Proof Fence,
directed by Philip Noyce and based on the book by Doris Pilkington,
daughter of the main character, exposed me to a dark chapter of
Australian history with which I was entirely unfamiliar.
Rabbit-Proof Fence is the story of sisters Molly (Everlyn Sampi) and Daisy (Tianna Sansbury) and their cousin Gracie (Laura Monaghan). These three girls were a part of what is called the Stolen Generation, as for several decades, the government removed children who were of mixed heritage from their Aboriginal homes in order to integrate them into white society, where they would eventually intermingle with other Caucasians so that by the time a couple of generations had passed, no obvious trace of Aboriginal ethnicity would remain. In many cases, the white parents were men who had worked near Aboriginal settlements and moved on, so these children left loving mothers and extended families to be raised in orphanages.
Molly, Daisy and Gracie were only three of thousands of children taken in this manner. What’s unusual about them is the fact that they escaped the orphanage to which they had been brought and evaded capture while walking the 1500 miles back home through largely inhospitable terrain. The movie is rated PG but still manages to effectively convey the harsh conditions the girls faced and the cruelty of their forced separation from their families.
As they progress in their journey, they find themselves obliged to rely upon the kindness of strangers from time to time - even though news of their escape has spread far and wide, rendering them extremely susceptible to kidnapping. Each encounter with another person is filled with tension as we wonder if they are placing their trust in the right people and whether they can be clever enough to elude captors yet again if a supposed new friend turns out to be a threat.
Kenneth Branagh is the only actor in the film I recognized, and he portrays the prime antagonist. As Chief Protector of Aborigines in western Australia, A. O. Neville presents a cool, professional face to the world, and while the orphanage children call him “devil” behind his back, he actually seems to have convinced himself that he is doing them a favor. Branagh has a certain undeniable charm about him that makes it seem more likely that he could have most of his peers persuaded that he was enforcing the proper course of action. That his rhetoric almost seems to make sense at times renders him all the more chilling.
The other adult who has a fairly large role to play is David Gulpilil, a celebrated Aboriginal actor who portrays the mostly silent tracker Moodoo, who is tasked with finding the girls. Molly is extremely clever, and we soon get a sense of the respect this weathered man develops for his prey as she devises numerous ways of throwing him off the scent, to the point that he eventually seems to slacken his efforts.
The three girls feel extremely authentic, whether they are trudging through water to avoid leaving tracks, bickering in the baking heat or sharing what meager food they can find. As the oldest of the girls and the leader of the expedition, Molly does most of the interacting with other characters, and Sampi fares extremely well as she demonstrates the maturity and vulnerability of her position. Sansbury is winning as the little girl whose exhaustion often means that she must be carried, and Monaghan may have had the most challenging job of all, as she reacts most forcefully to their abduction and is at the heart of an especially wrenching scene later on.
I’d had this movie in my Netflix queue for a while, and when I realized that it had risen to the top, I tried to delete it because I saw that it was available for Instant Viewing. However, I wasn’t quick enough, and I’m glad, because the DVD includes a nearly hour-long documentary that takes us through the process of choosing the young actresses, preparing for filming and actually shooting the movie. I’m usually not one who gets too excited about behind the scenes features, but I found this one pretty absorbing since it focused almost entirely on the three girls, none of whom had any previous acting experience. I loved the playful but respectful rapport the three shared with Noyce and their acting coach, Rachel Maza, and the heartbreaking abduction scene seems even more poignant after seeing how traumatic it was for the girls to film. Interestingly, though it happens very early in the movie, it was the last scene shot, as it was the most emotionally demanding.
I wouldn‘t call Rabbit-Proof Fence an uplifting movie. It deals with a disturbing chapter of Australian history, and the voice-over at the end reveals that hardships at the hand of the government continued to plague these girls and thousands like them for many years. Still, Molly’s determination and ingenuity is inspiring, so while the film is depressing, it is also a beautifully shot and acted testament to the power of the human spirit.
Rabbit-Proof Fence is the story of sisters Molly (Everlyn Sampi) and Daisy (Tianna Sansbury) and their cousin Gracie (Laura Monaghan). These three girls were a part of what is called the Stolen Generation, as for several decades, the government removed children who were of mixed heritage from their Aboriginal homes in order to integrate them into white society, where they would eventually intermingle with other Caucasians so that by the time a couple of generations had passed, no obvious trace of Aboriginal ethnicity would remain. In many cases, the white parents were men who had worked near Aboriginal settlements and moved on, so these children left loving mothers and extended families to be raised in orphanages.
Molly, Daisy and Gracie were only three of thousands of children taken in this manner. What’s unusual about them is the fact that they escaped the orphanage to which they had been brought and evaded capture while walking the 1500 miles back home through largely inhospitable terrain. The movie is rated PG but still manages to effectively convey the harsh conditions the girls faced and the cruelty of their forced separation from their families.
As they progress in their journey, they find themselves obliged to rely upon the kindness of strangers from time to time - even though news of their escape has spread far and wide, rendering them extremely susceptible to kidnapping. Each encounter with another person is filled with tension as we wonder if they are placing their trust in the right people and whether they can be clever enough to elude captors yet again if a supposed new friend turns out to be a threat.
Kenneth Branagh is the only actor in the film I recognized, and he portrays the prime antagonist. As Chief Protector of Aborigines in western Australia, A. O. Neville presents a cool, professional face to the world, and while the orphanage children call him “devil” behind his back, he actually seems to have convinced himself that he is doing them a favor. Branagh has a certain undeniable charm about him that makes it seem more likely that he could have most of his peers persuaded that he was enforcing the proper course of action. That his rhetoric almost seems to make sense at times renders him all the more chilling.
The other adult who has a fairly large role to play is David Gulpilil, a celebrated Aboriginal actor who portrays the mostly silent tracker Moodoo, who is tasked with finding the girls. Molly is extremely clever, and we soon get a sense of the respect this weathered man develops for his prey as she devises numerous ways of throwing him off the scent, to the point that he eventually seems to slacken his efforts.
The three girls feel extremely authentic, whether they are trudging through water to avoid leaving tracks, bickering in the baking heat or sharing what meager food they can find. As the oldest of the girls and the leader of the expedition, Molly does most of the interacting with other characters, and Sampi fares extremely well as she demonstrates the maturity and vulnerability of her position. Sansbury is winning as the little girl whose exhaustion often means that she must be carried, and Monaghan may have had the most challenging job of all, as she reacts most forcefully to their abduction and is at the heart of an especially wrenching scene later on.
I’d had this movie in my Netflix queue for a while, and when I realized that it had risen to the top, I tried to delete it because I saw that it was available for Instant Viewing. However, I wasn’t quick enough, and I’m glad, because the DVD includes a nearly hour-long documentary that takes us through the process of choosing the young actresses, preparing for filming and actually shooting the movie. I’m usually not one who gets too excited about behind the scenes features, but I found this one pretty absorbing since it focused almost entirely on the three girls, none of whom had any previous acting experience. I loved the playful but respectful rapport the three shared with Noyce and their acting coach, Rachel Maza, and the heartbreaking abduction scene seems even more poignant after seeing how traumatic it was for the girls to film. Interestingly, though it happens very early in the movie, it was the last scene shot, as it was the most emotionally demanding.
I wouldn‘t call Rabbit-Proof Fence an uplifting movie. It deals with a disturbing chapter of Australian history, and the voice-over at the end reveals that hardships at the hand of the government continued to plague these girls and thousands like them for many years. Still, Molly’s determination and ingenuity is inspiring, so while the film is depressing, it is also a beautifully shot and acted testament to the power of the human spirit.
Nativity Books
In the midst of all the stories about Santa Claus, there are still plenty of picture books that celebrate the Nativity.
Sad Christmas Songs
Most Christmas songs elicit positive feelings, but the season has inspired some sad songs as well.
Looking at Weezer's Hurley Through LOST Lenses
One time in middle school, my cousin came over for a visit, bringing
along an album by a new band she’d just discovered. Back then, I was
deeply prejudiced against any music created within the last decade, and
I’m afraid I didn’t give Weezer much of a fair shake. But eventually,
the music from that album seeped into my consciousness and I came to
appreciate the geeky goofiness of a song about an unraveling sweater and
about a guy cheerfully embracing the nerdy associations he and his
girlfriend invite. With American Pie
one of my favorite songs of all time, how could I not appreciate the
self-deprecating homage to Buddy Holly? I realized that these guys were
actually kindred spirits.
Though I’ve never followed the band’s career too closely, I like their offbeat topics and unpretentious style. Their songs tend to make me smile, and when I saw the press release about their new album, simply entitled Hurley, I couldn’t help but mirror the ear-to-ear grin of Jorge Garcia, whose exuberant visage fills the cover so completely that there is no room for even a title.
Choosing a favorite character on LOST, the television drama that drew me in like no other, is no easy feat, but on most days, if you were to force me to give just one name, I’d have to go with Hurley, the lovable teddy bear of a guy Garcia portrays. A shining beacon of compassion, he is so much more than just LOST’s comic relief. Head writers Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse have described him as the show’s heart, and I couldn’t agree more. So even though band members Rivers Cuomo, Patrick Wilson, Brian Bell and Scott Shriner are hardly hard-core LOSTies and insist that none of the music on the album was written with the show in mind, I knew I would have to listen to it and read it with LOST lenses. If you’ve never seen the show, be warned of some spoilers; I can’t resist another chance to indulge in a bit of Doc Jensen-style dissection.
* * *
Memories - This hard-rockin’ opener seems to be an ode to lost adolescence, and its repetitive chorus immediately recalls Jack’s anguished exclamation that so potently closed the third season: “All the memories make me want to go back there, back there. All the memories. How can we make it back there, back there? I want to be there again.” The angsty tone fits perfectly with Jack’s state of mind; this isn’t just nostalgia, it’s desperation to return to a time and place not properly appreciated until it’s too late. Meanwhile, several of the lines in the verses remind me of the de facto leader of the castaways, especially, “I got so many people that I got to look out for.”
Ruling Me - “Ring, ring goes your telephone. You act like you ain’t at home.” While Memories reminds me of where Jack wants to be in that iconic season finale, this more melodic second track makes me think of who he wants to be with. Though the nerd-tastic second verse doesn’t fit in, the first and third verses are hugely applicable to his broken relationship with Kate. Meanwhile, the following line from the chorus - “In the rain, in the sun, everybody needs someone they can dream of all night long.” - makes me think of Penny’s secret letter to Desmond and the sentiment so much at the heart of the Sideways portion of season six.
Trainwrecks - After a rather haunting first 15 seconds or so of lush organ and choral music, this song launches into an electric guitar riff that oddly reminds me of Michael Martin Murphey’s mellow Still Got the Fire. Both songs are about two people who seem very comfortable together. I‘m not entirely sure if this pair is just a couple of buds or a romantic duo. If it’s the former, they remind me of Hurley and his friend Johnny wreaking mild havoc around town in the episode Everybody Hates Hugo or perhaps drugged-out rockers Charlie and Liam entering a downward spiral. Meanwhile, if it’s the latter, which seems more likely, my mind turns to LOST’s ultimate trainwrecks, Nikki and Paolo, especially in the line, “Someday we’ll cut our critics down to size.” Either way, I dig the lethargic pace of this one, which makes it easier to sing along with than the first two.
Unspoken - Most of this song is surprisingly mellow, an acoustic guitar-driven track with some genuinely lovely woodwinds that put me in mind of John Denver’s life-affirming Poems, Prayers and Promises. The majority of the words are bitter, however, and they once again remind me of Jack and Kate at their lowest point, especially in the electrified final chorus. “And if you take this away from me, I’ll never forgive you, can’t you see? Our life will be broken; our hate will be unspoken.”
Where’s My Sex? - A bizarre song largely dependent on a play of words that feels like a stretch. It seems pretty risque until a third of the way through, when you suddenly get the sense that this guy is singing about his socks, and then it just becomes daffy. “Going back to the caveman days, they were walking around in a haze until they figured it out, and they said, ‘Gosh dang, this is great!’” Socks play a reasonably significant role in the Harry Potter series, but not LOST; the only connection I have here is when I read it according to the spelling and pronunciation of the title, and then it makes me think of seductive Sawyer, who has been caught trysting with four major characters and several minor ones. I do like some of the harmonies on the chorus, but I’m not quite sure what to make of this track.
Run Away - Another song about a thwarted romance, and I think of Juliet and Sawyer when I hear the words “We’re running out of time and you know it’s true. I just want to run away with you...” I find myself more drawn to the track, however, when I take the first 25 seconds in isolation. While the bulk of the song is loud and raucous, the acoustics are fuzzy and distant in these four despondent lines, which are backed by a rickety-sounding piano. With the words “I thought you would always be my friend; now everything must end,” I imagine lonesome, guilt-ridden Jacob sitting on the beach under a starry sky, grieving for the brother he wronged. Meanwhile, along with a sense of regret at the altered relationship, his fundamental hypothesis that “it only ends once; everything else is just progress” seems reflected in the sentiment “And so the world moves on and everything must change.”
Hang On - This very catchy song is yet another dealing with imperfect romance. Once it got to “Over and over, we swore it was over, but just like wild clover, love blooms at light speed,” I was happily flashing through the stages of Desmond and Penny’s epic relationship. Though it seemed doomed, their love survived all obstacles, including Desmond’s crippling pride. I feel the sense of frustration in the first part of the sentence, while the end reminds me both of Desmond’s Scottish heritage and his tendency to defy the laws of physics. Meanwhile, the line “Hang on till I see you again” isn’t that far a leap from Desmond’s catchphrase, “See you in another life,” and “As long as I’m breathing and my heart is still beating I’m gonna be coming for you” recalls the renewed pledges Desmond and Penny exchange in The Constant.
Smart Girls - This just makes me chuckle because it comes across as so nerdy. Apparently this guy is turned on by brainiacs, though his vocabulary leads me to believe that they hold the intellectual upper hand. Aside from much-reviled geophysicist Zoe, the nerdiest girl on LOST would probably have to be Charlotte, an anthropologist who claims to be fluent in Klingon, so I suppose I could pretend that geektacular time travel expert Daniel Faraday is the speaker, but the personality hardly fits, especially since this fella seems interested in smart girls as a category and can’t narrow his interest down to just one. At any rate, though the song is a tad cacophonous and some of its lyrics make little sense, its playful nature is enjoyable, and I’m all for any affirmation of geek chic.
Brave New World - Just about every word in this heavily electrified song seems as though it could have been written about LOST. It’s about accepting new responsibilities for which one has been subtly prepared for a long time. “I may prove to be much more than I thought.” Realizing your limitations and being willing to seek help from others - but not demand it. “You can come along with me, or if that's not your destiny, you can choose to go your way if you want.” Letting go. Moving on. Some lines seem to pertain especially well to Jack (“I guess it‘s time for me to show what I‘ve got”), some to Desmond (“I may snuff the burning flame”), others to Hurley (“I‘ve been scared to make a move”; “I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I’ll figure it out”), but on the whole, this feels like an anthem for the series finale.
Time Flies - There’s a breezy quality to this song that reminds me of Jimmy Buffett, who I already associate with sunny beaches and tropical daydreams. “Time flies when you’re having fun,” the chorus proclaims, and those who were captivated by LOST right up to the end would most likely agree. Meanwhile, the verses again seem to relate to the finale. The first verse has to do with looking in mirrors and being disturbed by what you see there, a frequent affliction of Jack throughout season six. The second verse could be a nod to heroic pilot Frank Lapidus: “Life is moving fast and I'm running out of gas. Time ain't on my side. I'm still in the race and I'm barely keeping pace but it's worth the ride.” Meanwhile, the third verse’s reflection on the connection between mortality and memories seems fitting for LOST’s concluding moments.
Cuomo, a LOST fan who has seen the first two seasons, had met Garcia and gotten his picture taken with him, and according to him, he loved the vibe he got from his grinning face so much that he cropped the photo down and made it the cover. The name, he said, was a given, since everybody would be calling it that anyway. Bell, on the other hand, implied that the name was a nod to the clothing company Hurley, which was sponsoring the album, and that the picture was just a clever way of covering up the corporate connection. Then there’s the undeniable fact that putting Hurley on the cover of their album meant potentially tapping into a huge market of fans lost without their favorite show and clamoring for anything that might be tangentially related.
Whatever the reasons behind the name and cover art, I’m glad they decided on it because that’s what convinced me to give it a listen. For established Weezer fans, for zany over-analytical LOST fans like me and for those who just enjoy light-hearted punk, I have this to say about Hurley: Dude, it rocks!
Though I’ve never followed the band’s career too closely, I like their offbeat topics and unpretentious style. Their songs tend to make me smile, and when I saw the press release about their new album, simply entitled Hurley, I couldn’t help but mirror the ear-to-ear grin of Jorge Garcia, whose exuberant visage fills the cover so completely that there is no room for even a title.
Choosing a favorite character on LOST, the television drama that drew me in like no other, is no easy feat, but on most days, if you were to force me to give just one name, I’d have to go with Hurley, the lovable teddy bear of a guy Garcia portrays. A shining beacon of compassion, he is so much more than just LOST’s comic relief. Head writers Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse have described him as the show’s heart, and I couldn’t agree more. So even though band members Rivers Cuomo, Patrick Wilson, Brian Bell and Scott Shriner are hardly hard-core LOSTies and insist that none of the music on the album was written with the show in mind, I knew I would have to listen to it and read it with LOST lenses. If you’ve never seen the show, be warned of some spoilers; I can’t resist another chance to indulge in a bit of Doc Jensen-style dissection.
* * *
Memories - This hard-rockin’ opener seems to be an ode to lost adolescence, and its repetitive chorus immediately recalls Jack’s anguished exclamation that so potently closed the third season: “All the memories make me want to go back there, back there. All the memories. How can we make it back there, back there? I want to be there again.” The angsty tone fits perfectly with Jack’s state of mind; this isn’t just nostalgia, it’s desperation to return to a time and place not properly appreciated until it’s too late. Meanwhile, several of the lines in the verses remind me of the de facto leader of the castaways, especially, “I got so many people that I got to look out for.”
Ruling Me - “Ring, ring goes your telephone. You act like you ain’t at home.” While Memories reminds me of where Jack wants to be in that iconic season finale, this more melodic second track makes me think of who he wants to be with. Though the nerd-tastic second verse doesn’t fit in, the first and third verses are hugely applicable to his broken relationship with Kate. Meanwhile, the following line from the chorus - “In the rain, in the sun, everybody needs someone they can dream of all night long.” - makes me think of Penny’s secret letter to Desmond and the sentiment so much at the heart of the Sideways portion of season six.
Trainwrecks - After a rather haunting first 15 seconds or so of lush organ and choral music, this song launches into an electric guitar riff that oddly reminds me of Michael Martin Murphey’s mellow Still Got the Fire. Both songs are about two people who seem very comfortable together. I‘m not entirely sure if this pair is just a couple of buds or a romantic duo. If it’s the former, they remind me of Hurley and his friend Johnny wreaking mild havoc around town in the episode Everybody Hates Hugo or perhaps drugged-out rockers Charlie and Liam entering a downward spiral. Meanwhile, if it’s the latter, which seems more likely, my mind turns to LOST’s ultimate trainwrecks, Nikki and Paolo, especially in the line, “Someday we’ll cut our critics down to size.” Either way, I dig the lethargic pace of this one, which makes it easier to sing along with than the first two.
Unspoken - Most of this song is surprisingly mellow, an acoustic guitar-driven track with some genuinely lovely woodwinds that put me in mind of John Denver’s life-affirming Poems, Prayers and Promises. The majority of the words are bitter, however, and they once again remind me of Jack and Kate at their lowest point, especially in the electrified final chorus. “And if you take this away from me, I’ll never forgive you, can’t you see? Our life will be broken; our hate will be unspoken.”
Where’s My Sex? - A bizarre song largely dependent on a play of words that feels like a stretch. It seems pretty risque until a third of the way through, when you suddenly get the sense that this guy is singing about his socks, and then it just becomes daffy. “Going back to the caveman days, they were walking around in a haze until they figured it out, and they said, ‘Gosh dang, this is great!’” Socks play a reasonably significant role in the Harry Potter series, but not LOST; the only connection I have here is when I read it according to the spelling and pronunciation of the title, and then it makes me think of seductive Sawyer, who has been caught trysting with four major characters and several minor ones. I do like some of the harmonies on the chorus, but I’m not quite sure what to make of this track.
Run Away - Another song about a thwarted romance, and I think of Juliet and Sawyer when I hear the words “We’re running out of time and you know it’s true. I just want to run away with you...” I find myself more drawn to the track, however, when I take the first 25 seconds in isolation. While the bulk of the song is loud and raucous, the acoustics are fuzzy and distant in these four despondent lines, which are backed by a rickety-sounding piano. With the words “I thought you would always be my friend; now everything must end,” I imagine lonesome, guilt-ridden Jacob sitting on the beach under a starry sky, grieving for the brother he wronged. Meanwhile, along with a sense of regret at the altered relationship, his fundamental hypothesis that “it only ends once; everything else is just progress” seems reflected in the sentiment “And so the world moves on and everything must change.”
Hang On - This very catchy song is yet another dealing with imperfect romance. Once it got to “Over and over, we swore it was over, but just like wild clover, love blooms at light speed,” I was happily flashing through the stages of Desmond and Penny’s epic relationship. Though it seemed doomed, their love survived all obstacles, including Desmond’s crippling pride. I feel the sense of frustration in the first part of the sentence, while the end reminds me both of Desmond’s Scottish heritage and his tendency to defy the laws of physics. Meanwhile, the line “Hang on till I see you again” isn’t that far a leap from Desmond’s catchphrase, “See you in another life,” and “As long as I’m breathing and my heart is still beating I’m gonna be coming for you” recalls the renewed pledges Desmond and Penny exchange in The Constant.
Smart Girls - This just makes me chuckle because it comes across as so nerdy. Apparently this guy is turned on by brainiacs, though his vocabulary leads me to believe that they hold the intellectual upper hand. Aside from much-reviled geophysicist Zoe, the nerdiest girl on LOST would probably have to be Charlotte, an anthropologist who claims to be fluent in Klingon, so I suppose I could pretend that geektacular time travel expert Daniel Faraday is the speaker, but the personality hardly fits, especially since this fella seems interested in smart girls as a category and can’t narrow his interest down to just one. At any rate, though the song is a tad cacophonous and some of its lyrics make little sense, its playful nature is enjoyable, and I’m all for any affirmation of geek chic.
Brave New World - Just about every word in this heavily electrified song seems as though it could have been written about LOST. It’s about accepting new responsibilities for which one has been subtly prepared for a long time. “I may prove to be much more than I thought.” Realizing your limitations and being willing to seek help from others - but not demand it. “You can come along with me, or if that's not your destiny, you can choose to go your way if you want.” Letting go. Moving on. Some lines seem to pertain especially well to Jack (“I guess it‘s time for me to show what I‘ve got”), some to Desmond (“I may snuff the burning flame”), others to Hurley (“I‘ve been scared to make a move”; “I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I’ll figure it out”), but on the whole, this feels like an anthem for the series finale.
Time Flies - There’s a breezy quality to this song that reminds me of Jimmy Buffett, who I already associate with sunny beaches and tropical daydreams. “Time flies when you’re having fun,” the chorus proclaims, and those who were captivated by LOST right up to the end would most likely agree. Meanwhile, the verses again seem to relate to the finale. The first verse has to do with looking in mirrors and being disturbed by what you see there, a frequent affliction of Jack throughout season six. The second verse could be a nod to heroic pilot Frank Lapidus: “Life is moving fast and I'm running out of gas. Time ain't on my side. I'm still in the race and I'm barely keeping pace but it's worth the ride.” Meanwhile, the third verse’s reflection on the connection between mortality and memories seems fitting for LOST’s concluding moments.
Cuomo, a LOST fan who has seen the first two seasons, had met Garcia and gotten his picture taken with him, and according to him, he loved the vibe he got from his grinning face so much that he cropped the photo down and made it the cover. The name, he said, was a given, since everybody would be calling it that anyway. Bell, on the other hand, implied that the name was a nod to the clothing company Hurley, which was sponsoring the album, and that the picture was just a clever way of covering up the corporate connection. Then there’s the undeniable fact that putting Hurley on the cover of their album meant potentially tapping into a huge market of fans lost without their favorite show and clamoring for anything that might be tangentially related.
Whatever the reasons behind the name and cover art, I’m glad they decided on it because that’s what convinced me to give it a listen. For established Weezer fans, for zany over-analytical LOST fans like me and for those who just enjoy light-hearted punk, I have this to say about Hurley: Dude, it rocks!
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
The 12 Days of Christmas Books
Several books take inspiration from the song The 12 Days of Christmas, including a couple about Chanukah and Kwanzaa.
Versions of A Christmas Carol
A Christmas Carol is so popular, it just keeps finding its way into movies...
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Versions of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
Good ol' Rudy sure gets around. A list of several versions of the song about the red-nosed reindeer.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Ballykissangel Remains Charming Despite the Departure of Its Leads
Last year, my search for something Irish to watch on St. Patrick’s Day led me to Ballykissangel,
a BBC series from the 1990s about a tiny Irish town and its residents.
In the first three seasons, the central characters are Father Peter
Clifford (Stephen Thompkinson), a priest from Manchester who comes to
town at the beginning of the series, and Assumpta Fitzgerald (Dervla
Kirwan), the feisty owner of the pub that is Ballykissangel’s most
popular gathering spot. However, both Thompkinson and Kirwan were ready
to move on to other ventures by the end of the third season, so show
creator Kieran Prendiville dramatically wrote out the characters,
leading me to wonder how much I would enjoy the series in their absence.
I gave the show a good break and came back to it recently, watching the fourth season through Netflix Instant Viewing. The primary difference is a shift in focus. While the show has featured a number of quirky characters from the beginning, it’s in the fourth season that it becomes a true ensemble drama. Because Fitzgerald’s is so integral to the series, one might argue that new proprietor Niamh Egan (Tina Kellegher), already fairly prominent as Assumpta’s best friend, becomes the main character, but the focus really is all over the place. This results in a season that is generally less intense, but there’s always something interesting happening in Ballykissangel, and the new characters add richness to the interconnecting storylines.
No sooner had hip Father Peter arrived than he became completely immersed in all of the town’s activity. Initially, I suspected that his replacement would occupy just as central a role, but that really isn’t the case. Father Aidan O’Connell (Don Wycherley) is shy and soft-spoken. Lacking his predecessor’s social finesse and tendency to rock the boat, he finds it much more difficult to integrate himself into the life of the village, especially since he has lived in seclusion for much of his adult life. His time in a monastery has left him ill equipped to deal with many everyday concerns, but this adds to his charm. He is a sweet man of deep faith, and I wish that he had a larger presence in most of the episodes.
Along with the new priest comes Orla (Victoria Smurfit), his spirited sister. She comes to town mostly to help ease his transition into modern life, and she is his go-to person whenever he has a problem, whether it’s feeling intimidated by the task of grocery shopping or fearing himself insufficient when it comes to counseling townspeople. I love the tenderness of their rapport, devoid of all the messy trappings of Peter’s relationship with Assumpta. But Orla does much more than simply give her brother a few helpful nudges. A lovely and vivacious woman, she soon befriends most of the major characters and involves herself in many of the town’s activities. Truth be told, I prefer her to Assumpta, who always had a mean-spirited streak that was a bit of a turn-off. Orla can toss out zingers with the best of them, but she’s also relentlessly cheerful, and she’s probably my favorite female character on the show.
I also like Emma Dillon (Kate McEnery), the spunky teenage daughter of Sean Dillon (Lorcan Cranitch), who grew up in Ballykissangel and has returned to an icy reception. Bad blood abounds between the townspeople and this man whose circumstances make him remind me a bit of Lex Luthor in Smallville’s first couple of seasons. It’s hard enough for Sean to accept the suspicious spirit in which he is greeted, but for Emma, who doesn’t understand the history behind it, the move proves especially frustrating. Nonetheless, things start looking up for her when she befriends Danny Byrne, yet another addition to the cast, played by a very young Colin Farrell.
Danny arrives as a rebellious vagabond, but he manages to cool down and become quite lovable after spending some time helping his eccentric uncle Eamon (Birdy Sweeney) run his farm. It’s good for the elderly farmer to have someone on hand to make his workload lighter, and through Danny, Eamon has a more prominent role this season than in any other. The only downside is that Eamon’s feud with Sean runs deeper than almost anyone’s, complicating things for Emma and Danny.
The remaining characters are the ones who have been in place since the first season, and they continue to develop. Wealthy Brian Quigley (Tony Doyle) takes over ownership of the pub, letting his daughter Niamh take care of the daily duties. In the meantime, he continues to concoct a variety of business schemes, particularly involving his new golf course. On the whole, however, he seems to have mellowed out somewhat, as has Father MacAnally (Niall Toibin), the senior priest who is relieved that Aidan gives him far fewer headaches than Peter did. Sharing in that relief is ultra-conservative shopkeeper Kathleen Hendley (Aine Ni Mhuiri), who never held much with Peter’s unorthodox ways.
Niamh and Ambrose (Peter Hanly), the town’s only police officer, face new challenges to their marriage in this season as Niamh begins to feel dissatisfied with the monotony of her life. Their son Kieran, born just last season, is suddenly a chatty toddler, which threw me for a bit of a loop; I’m not sure just when three or four years are supposed to have passed, especially since veterinarian Siobahn Mehigan (Deirdre Donnelly) learns that she is pregnant in the third season and gives birth in the fourth, and the baby is still an infant as the fourth season draws to a close. My guess is that it was just more interesting to have a rambunctious young child to write about, so Prendiville aged him up and hoped we would forget how recently Kieran was born. Meanwhile, schoolteacher Brendan Kearney (Gary Whelan) isn’t too quick to embrace the idea of being a father to Siobahn’s baby, but he gradually warms to the idea, and one of the big questions of the season is how this birth will affect his relationship with Siobahn.
One thing that can be counted upon consistently is some sort of idiocy on the part of Liam Coghlan (Joe Savino) and Donal Docherty (Frankie McCafferty). Somehow, these two are always called upon whenever anyone needs a handyman despite the fact that they mess up every project in which they become involved. Most of their misadventures involve their work for Brian, but some of them are completely independent of him. Perhaps my favorite this season is Donal’s decision to take in a bear abandoned by a traveling circus, while trying to hide his new friend from everyone, including Liam. I also love the episode in which Donal’s attempt to fix the television reception at Fitzgerald’s leads to the pub only getting the Spanish channel, whose soap operas keep the regulars riveted even though they can’t understand what anyone is saying. In several episodes, they find themselves in life-threatening situations, but they always manage to escape unscathed.
Ballykissangel is a thoroughly endearing drama with a lot of comedy mixed in. There’s a wonderful coziness about the series that recalls The Andy Griffith Show and Jan Karon’s Mitford books. Along with all of the colorful locals, there’s the benefit of the gorgeous landscape. Filmed in Avoca, a town a couple of hours away from Dublin, Ballykissangel is beautiful to look it, and the stories are every bit as enriching as the scenery. I was afraid that the show might not hang together very well after losing its central characters, but what the fourth season demonstrates is that the town itself is a character vital enough to withstand any changes to the cast that may come along.
I gave the show a good break and came back to it recently, watching the fourth season through Netflix Instant Viewing. The primary difference is a shift in focus. While the show has featured a number of quirky characters from the beginning, it’s in the fourth season that it becomes a true ensemble drama. Because Fitzgerald’s is so integral to the series, one might argue that new proprietor Niamh Egan (Tina Kellegher), already fairly prominent as Assumpta’s best friend, becomes the main character, but the focus really is all over the place. This results in a season that is generally less intense, but there’s always something interesting happening in Ballykissangel, and the new characters add richness to the interconnecting storylines.
No sooner had hip Father Peter arrived than he became completely immersed in all of the town’s activity. Initially, I suspected that his replacement would occupy just as central a role, but that really isn’t the case. Father Aidan O’Connell (Don Wycherley) is shy and soft-spoken. Lacking his predecessor’s social finesse and tendency to rock the boat, he finds it much more difficult to integrate himself into the life of the village, especially since he has lived in seclusion for much of his adult life. His time in a monastery has left him ill equipped to deal with many everyday concerns, but this adds to his charm. He is a sweet man of deep faith, and I wish that he had a larger presence in most of the episodes.
Along with the new priest comes Orla (Victoria Smurfit), his spirited sister. She comes to town mostly to help ease his transition into modern life, and she is his go-to person whenever he has a problem, whether it’s feeling intimidated by the task of grocery shopping or fearing himself insufficient when it comes to counseling townspeople. I love the tenderness of their rapport, devoid of all the messy trappings of Peter’s relationship with Assumpta. But Orla does much more than simply give her brother a few helpful nudges. A lovely and vivacious woman, she soon befriends most of the major characters and involves herself in many of the town’s activities. Truth be told, I prefer her to Assumpta, who always had a mean-spirited streak that was a bit of a turn-off. Orla can toss out zingers with the best of them, but she’s also relentlessly cheerful, and she’s probably my favorite female character on the show.
I also like Emma Dillon (Kate McEnery), the spunky teenage daughter of Sean Dillon (Lorcan Cranitch), who grew up in Ballykissangel and has returned to an icy reception. Bad blood abounds between the townspeople and this man whose circumstances make him remind me a bit of Lex Luthor in Smallville’s first couple of seasons. It’s hard enough for Sean to accept the suspicious spirit in which he is greeted, but for Emma, who doesn’t understand the history behind it, the move proves especially frustrating. Nonetheless, things start looking up for her when she befriends Danny Byrne, yet another addition to the cast, played by a very young Colin Farrell.
Danny arrives as a rebellious vagabond, but he manages to cool down and become quite lovable after spending some time helping his eccentric uncle Eamon (Birdy Sweeney) run his farm. It’s good for the elderly farmer to have someone on hand to make his workload lighter, and through Danny, Eamon has a more prominent role this season than in any other. The only downside is that Eamon’s feud with Sean runs deeper than almost anyone’s, complicating things for Emma and Danny.
The remaining characters are the ones who have been in place since the first season, and they continue to develop. Wealthy Brian Quigley (Tony Doyle) takes over ownership of the pub, letting his daughter Niamh take care of the daily duties. In the meantime, he continues to concoct a variety of business schemes, particularly involving his new golf course. On the whole, however, he seems to have mellowed out somewhat, as has Father MacAnally (Niall Toibin), the senior priest who is relieved that Aidan gives him far fewer headaches than Peter did. Sharing in that relief is ultra-conservative shopkeeper Kathleen Hendley (Aine Ni Mhuiri), who never held much with Peter’s unorthodox ways.
Niamh and Ambrose (Peter Hanly), the town’s only police officer, face new challenges to their marriage in this season as Niamh begins to feel dissatisfied with the monotony of her life. Their son Kieran, born just last season, is suddenly a chatty toddler, which threw me for a bit of a loop; I’m not sure just when three or four years are supposed to have passed, especially since veterinarian Siobahn Mehigan (Deirdre Donnelly) learns that she is pregnant in the third season and gives birth in the fourth, and the baby is still an infant as the fourth season draws to a close. My guess is that it was just more interesting to have a rambunctious young child to write about, so Prendiville aged him up and hoped we would forget how recently Kieran was born. Meanwhile, schoolteacher Brendan Kearney (Gary Whelan) isn’t too quick to embrace the idea of being a father to Siobahn’s baby, but he gradually warms to the idea, and one of the big questions of the season is how this birth will affect his relationship with Siobahn.
One thing that can be counted upon consistently is some sort of idiocy on the part of Liam Coghlan (Joe Savino) and Donal Docherty (Frankie McCafferty). Somehow, these two are always called upon whenever anyone needs a handyman despite the fact that they mess up every project in which they become involved. Most of their misadventures involve their work for Brian, but some of them are completely independent of him. Perhaps my favorite this season is Donal’s decision to take in a bear abandoned by a traveling circus, while trying to hide his new friend from everyone, including Liam. I also love the episode in which Donal’s attempt to fix the television reception at Fitzgerald’s leads to the pub only getting the Spanish channel, whose soap operas keep the regulars riveted even though they can’t understand what anyone is saying. In several episodes, they find themselves in life-threatening situations, but they always manage to escape unscathed.
Ballykissangel is a thoroughly endearing drama with a lot of comedy mixed in. There’s a wonderful coziness about the series that recalls The Andy Griffith Show and Jan Karon’s Mitford books. Along with all of the colorful locals, there’s the benefit of the gorgeous landscape. Filmed in Avoca, a town a couple of hours away from Dublin, Ballykissangel is beautiful to look it, and the stories are every bit as enriching as the scenery. I was afraid that the show might not hang together very well after losing its central characters, but what the fourth season demonstrates is that the town itself is a character vital enough to withstand any changes to the cast that may come along.
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