Artist Joan Walsh Anglund has books dating back several decades, and
many of the illustrations in her early books feature drab color schemes
or no color at all. Little Angels’ Book of Christmas, published
in 1997, is strikingly different because the colors are so vibrant.
Every picture is in full color, and while red and green are the most
prominent colors, she uses a whole range of hues, incorporating yellow
to especially good effect.
This book is slightly taller and
almost twice as wide as the typical skinny Anglund book, so it has a
very different look to it. Curiously, with more room to work with, her
illustrations become less detailed. They’re still lovely to look at, but
the landscapes in particular feel a bit more generic than in her
earlier books. I find the color technique interesting, with the children
generally having very thick color around the outsides of their clothing
and very little on the middle portions. It’s a type of shading that is
very pronounced.
The writing style is rather curious here
because she alternates between prose and rhymed verse. Because she
doesn’t stick to one or the other, it creates a feeling of incongruity
lasting throughout the book. That’s probably my major complaint here.
The book feels unnecessarily uneven. What’s more, some of the rhythm
feels a bit clunky.
I’m also not entirely sure what purpose is
served by giving all the children wings. In most of the illustrations,
they just look like ordinary kids who happen to be able to take to the
skies at a moment’s notice. In only one picture do we see an angel
interacting with a normal child, and that scarcely-clothed angel looks
like Cupid, while the rest are fully dressed and, aside from the tiny
angels resting inside of stockings, the size of normal children.
While
this book has a specific Christian focus and is more concerned with the
nativity, it mentions Santa Claus, though only in the text. As a proud
Swede, I get a kick out of the Santa Lucia wreath adorning the head of
one golden-haired girl, though I wish that she was dressed in white
instead of pink. However, aside from the nearly naked angel, all of them
wear robes of green, gold or pink. While only one angel wears a wreath
with candles on it, several have garlands on their heads, and they look
especially nice on the children in green.
This is one of several
Little Angels books, and while it is not my favorite of her Christmas
reflections, the angels do seem well suited for this occasion. For a
slightly celestial take on the Christmas season, have a look at Little Angels’ Book of Christmas.
Showing posts with label Angels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Angels. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Two Boys in the 1950s Navigate Friendship and Prejudice in The Angel Doll
In 2003, the new television show that most excited me was Joan of Arcadia,
a drama about a teenager who has regular conversations with God, who
appears to her in a variety of human guises. In a way, it served as a
replacement for Touched By an Angel, the warm and fuzzy
procedural about angels who receive assignments to improve the lives of a
variety of people. I found myself thinking about both shows thanks to The Angel Doll,
a Christmas movie set in the 1950s that focuses on one boy’s desire to
buy a very special present for his sick sister and his friend’s efforts
to help make that happen.
The Touched By an Angel similarities are easy to spot, since the main object is an angel and little Sandy Black (Lindsey Good in her only film role) is obsessed with angels. Paper angels cover the walls of her bedroom, and she never tires of hearing The Littlest Angel, especially as read to her by her big brother Whitey (Cody Newton). Most of all, the basic storyline reminds me of A Christmas Miracle, the Touched By an Angel episode about a young man and the terminally ill little girl he loves like a sister.
Whitey’s family is new in town. His dad is dead and his overwhelmed mother (Diana Scarwid) has taken up with an abusive boyfriend. They’re on the brink of destitution. Initially, he resents Jerry Barlow, a white bread kind of kid with an idyllic home life, but when the boys begin to share a paper route, it doesn’t take long for them to become friends. This movie is primarily the story of that friendship. While we occasionally see Whitey without Jerry, it really is the latter boy whose perspective we share. The tale is framed by his recollections as an adult (Keith Carradine) many years later.
I recognized Carradine in his brief role, but there was something even more familiar about Jerry as a youngster. It wasn’t until I finished the movie that I caught actor’s name and discovered that he was Michael Welch, who played Luke, Joan’s super-geeky younger brother in Joan of Arcadia. He’s much younger in this movie than in the series, even though they both came out the same year; the filming must have been done in the late 1990s, with the release presumably delayed because of the death of director Alexander Johnston. Both boys give solid performances, but Welch is especially good, showing us the subtle changes that occur within this boy as he becomes more attuned to the bitter realities of life without losing his sense of hope or devotion to his friend.
The most pressing issue of the time is a polio epidemic. The army has set up camp nearby to treat cases, and though they try to assure the public that being in proximity to someone with polio will not result in one catching the disease, many families are panicking. Whitey, his mom and his sister are disregarded enough because of their poverty; once it becomes clear that Sandy has polio, many townspeople shun them entirely, fearing the repercussions of close contact. Meanwhile, she keeps getting sicker, and Jerry’s own dream of getting a bike must be put on hold as he throws his efforts into helping Whitey get an angel doll for her for Christmas.
The Angel Doll is an old-fashioned story that deals with problems that many children still must face. It reminded me of Kit Kittredge in that it is relatable historical fiction presented in an appealing and family-friendly way. There’s a quaint charm to the town when it isn’t in the grip of paranoia; a kindly shopkeeper played by Pat Hingle adds to the Mayberryish feel. Aside from a whispered campout conversation involving flirtatious women on the boys’ paper routes, a shadowy glimpse of a heated argument between Mrs. Black and her boyfriend and a peek inside the makeshift hospital full of debilitated patients, everything in this movie is appropriate for all ages, while it’s presented artfully enough that the whole family ought to be able to enjoy it together. You have to be able to tolerate a bit of schmaltz to enjoy The Angel Doll, but if that’s not too tall an order, it’s a wonderful movie to curl up to on a chilly winter evening.
The Touched By an Angel similarities are easy to spot, since the main object is an angel and little Sandy Black (Lindsey Good in her only film role) is obsessed with angels. Paper angels cover the walls of her bedroom, and she never tires of hearing The Littlest Angel, especially as read to her by her big brother Whitey (Cody Newton). Most of all, the basic storyline reminds me of A Christmas Miracle, the Touched By an Angel episode about a young man and the terminally ill little girl he loves like a sister.
Whitey’s family is new in town. His dad is dead and his overwhelmed mother (Diana Scarwid) has taken up with an abusive boyfriend. They’re on the brink of destitution. Initially, he resents Jerry Barlow, a white bread kind of kid with an idyllic home life, but when the boys begin to share a paper route, it doesn’t take long for them to become friends. This movie is primarily the story of that friendship. While we occasionally see Whitey without Jerry, it really is the latter boy whose perspective we share. The tale is framed by his recollections as an adult (Keith Carradine) many years later.
I recognized Carradine in his brief role, but there was something even more familiar about Jerry as a youngster. It wasn’t until I finished the movie that I caught actor’s name and discovered that he was Michael Welch, who played Luke, Joan’s super-geeky younger brother in Joan of Arcadia. He’s much younger in this movie than in the series, even though they both came out the same year; the filming must have been done in the late 1990s, with the release presumably delayed because of the death of director Alexander Johnston. Both boys give solid performances, but Welch is especially good, showing us the subtle changes that occur within this boy as he becomes more attuned to the bitter realities of life without losing his sense of hope or devotion to his friend.
The most pressing issue of the time is a polio epidemic. The army has set up camp nearby to treat cases, and though they try to assure the public that being in proximity to someone with polio will not result in one catching the disease, many families are panicking. Whitey, his mom and his sister are disregarded enough because of their poverty; once it becomes clear that Sandy has polio, many townspeople shun them entirely, fearing the repercussions of close contact. Meanwhile, she keeps getting sicker, and Jerry’s own dream of getting a bike must be put on hold as he throws his efforts into helping Whitey get an angel doll for her for Christmas.
The Angel Doll is an old-fashioned story that deals with problems that many children still must face. It reminded me of Kit Kittredge in that it is relatable historical fiction presented in an appealing and family-friendly way. There’s a quaint charm to the town when it isn’t in the grip of paranoia; a kindly shopkeeper played by Pat Hingle adds to the Mayberryish feel. Aside from a whispered campout conversation involving flirtatious women on the boys’ paper routes, a shadowy glimpse of a heated argument between Mrs. Black and her boyfriend and a peek inside the makeshift hospital full of debilitated patients, everything in this movie is appropriate for all ages, while it’s presented artfully enough that the whole family ought to be able to enjoy it together. You have to be able to tolerate a bit of schmaltz to enjoy The Angel Doll, but if that’s not too tall an order, it’s a wonderful movie to curl up to on a chilly winter evening.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Andrew Clements and Kate Kiesler imagine a Heavenly Perspective in Bright Christmas: An Angel Remembers
Angels often appear in Christmas picture books, but usually as secondary
characters, almost an afterthought in a succession of Nativity
characters. But in Andrew Clements’ Bright Christmas: An Angel Remembers,
illustrated by Kate Kiesler, an angel serves as the narrator, and he
speaks for the angelic host at large, painting a poetic picture of their
role in the centuries leading up to Jesus’ birth and their perspective
on that event now.
Kiesler’s magnificent paintings fill 13 two-page spreads. One spread, showing Joseph and Mary departing from the inn, features no words at all, but all of the others are accompanied by what I would term one verse, though the length of these verses varies widely from three to 16 lines. There’s an air of holy mystery about the angelic perspective; the narrator explains that time is rather meaningless in Heaven but that one particular night stands out above all others. “Once I sing a song, the song never stops,” he writes. “It’s like a star that burns forever. / Christmas is the brightest / and the happiest song I ever sang.”
The long period of time covered in the book, and the theme of song, reminds me of The Lord of the Dance, in which Jesus, as speaker, begins by stating, “I danced on the morning when the world began, / I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun...” The angel mentions specific figures in the Old Testament: Moses, David, Isaiah, each getting the world one step closer to the arrival of the Messiah.
Kiesler’s paintings are gorgeous, luminous and rich in detail. A note in the back explains how attentive she was to archaeological accuracy, particularly in the matter of the inn, which is a “kataluma,” or temporary shelter, and the stable, which is a cave. Two of the paintings reminds me of Michael Card songs. The shepherds reacting in awe to the angels’ message calls to mind the gentle Shepherd’ Watch, while the close-up on Mary’s illuminated face goes perfectly with What Her Heart Remembered. Both songs come from his Christmas album The Promise.
We don’t actually see angels at any time, but they are artistically represented by doves or, in a couple of cases, a single feather. Probably to emphasize Mary’s closeness to God, Kiesler paints her with a dove necklace. Also appearing on almost every page are stars, which serve as reminders of light and of antiquity.
Bright Christmas: An Angel Remembers is a beautiful book. I’d recommend it particularly for Sunday School libraries, along with the homes of those who believe that “That night, a light was lit like no other.”
Kiesler’s magnificent paintings fill 13 two-page spreads. One spread, showing Joseph and Mary departing from the inn, features no words at all, but all of the others are accompanied by what I would term one verse, though the length of these verses varies widely from three to 16 lines. There’s an air of holy mystery about the angelic perspective; the narrator explains that time is rather meaningless in Heaven but that one particular night stands out above all others. “Once I sing a song, the song never stops,” he writes. “It’s like a star that burns forever. / Christmas is the brightest / and the happiest song I ever sang.”
The long period of time covered in the book, and the theme of song, reminds me of The Lord of the Dance, in which Jesus, as speaker, begins by stating, “I danced on the morning when the world began, / I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun...” The angel mentions specific figures in the Old Testament: Moses, David, Isaiah, each getting the world one step closer to the arrival of the Messiah.
Kiesler’s paintings are gorgeous, luminous and rich in detail. A note in the back explains how attentive she was to archaeological accuracy, particularly in the matter of the inn, which is a “kataluma,” or temporary shelter, and the stable, which is a cave. Two of the paintings reminds me of Michael Card songs. The shepherds reacting in awe to the angels’ message calls to mind the gentle Shepherd’ Watch, while the close-up on Mary’s illuminated face goes perfectly with What Her Heart Remembered. Both songs come from his Christmas album The Promise.
We don’t actually see angels at any time, but they are artistically represented by doves or, in a couple of cases, a single feather. Probably to emphasize Mary’s closeness to God, Kiesler paints her with a dove necklace. Also appearing on almost every page are stars, which serve as reminders of light and of antiquity.
Bright Christmas: An Angel Remembers is a beautiful book. I’d recommend it particularly for Sunday School libraries, along with the homes of those who believe that “That night, a light was lit like no other.”
Monday, November 30, 2009
Mice Assist a Glorious Goose in The Snow Angel
In the past few years, I have become a big fan of illustrator Jane
Chapman, whose sweet paintings have graced the pages of many picture
books, including Bear Snores On, Bear Stays Up For Christmas, Bear Wants More, Bear's New Friend, Bear Feels Sick, Mortimer’s Christmas Manger and The Very Snowy Christmas.
Her most frequent collaborator is Karma Wilson, but she has worked with other authors as well. The Snow Angel teams her up with Christine Leeson, who has half a dozen book credits to her name. I hadn’t read her work before, but I want to now that I’ve read this tender tale.
The book is eye-catching right from the start, with the cover page featuring a white goose whose feathers are augmented with glitter. Blue-green sparkles glint throughout the book, adding an extra bit of magic to this endearing story. The goose is the “snow angel,” so described by Sam and Daisy, the pair of mice who discover her injured and separated from her flock. The two mice live with their mother and, after collecting nuts and berries for their Christmas dinner, they opt to play in the swirling snow, which leads them to the goose.
While most of Wilson’s stories are written in verse, Leeson sticks with prose here. The writing is simple but artful as she describes the ways in which the mice offer aid to the poor lost creature. It’s the illustrations that really make an impact here, though. Chapman has a real knack for drawing expressively adorable animals, especially mice. Meanwhile, the “angel” looks truly majestic, especially in one gorgeous two-page spread in which she opens her wings and flies off into the sunset.
This book reminds me a bit of Aesop’s fable of the mouse and the lion. Of course, these mice are never in any danger from the goose, but they certainly do demonstrate to her that little friends may prove great friends indeed. A warm story of hospitality and kindness, The Snow Angel is a fine addition to any Christmas shelf.
Her most frequent collaborator is Karma Wilson, but she has worked with other authors as well. The Snow Angel teams her up with Christine Leeson, who has half a dozen book credits to her name. I hadn’t read her work before, but I want to now that I’ve read this tender tale.
The book is eye-catching right from the start, with the cover page featuring a white goose whose feathers are augmented with glitter. Blue-green sparkles glint throughout the book, adding an extra bit of magic to this endearing story. The goose is the “snow angel,” so described by Sam and Daisy, the pair of mice who discover her injured and separated from her flock. The two mice live with their mother and, after collecting nuts and berries for their Christmas dinner, they opt to play in the swirling snow, which leads them to the goose.
While most of Wilson’s stories are written in verse, Leeson sticks with prose here. The writing is simple but artful as she describes the ways in which the mice offer aid to the poor lost creature. It’s the illustrations that really make an impact here, though. Chapman has a real knack for drawing expressively adorable animals, especially mice. Meanwhile, the “angel” looks truly majestic, especially in one gorgeous two-page spread in which she opens her wings and flies off into the sunset.
This book reminds me a bit of Aesop’s fable of the mouse and the lion. Of course, these mice are never in any danger from the goose, but they certainly do demonstrate to her that little friends may prove great friends indeed. A warm story of hospitality and kindness, The Snow Angel is a fine addition to any Christmas shelf.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
My Top Ten Movies of the '40s
I like to think of myself as fairly well-versed in movies, but my
movie-viewing could use some brushing up, especially when it comes to
films from the predominantly black-and-white era. Still, I've seen
enough movies in the '40s to have a few favorites.
The Grapes of Wrath (1940) - Henry Fonda gives perhaps his greatest performances as Tom Joad, champion of the oppressed, alongside Jane Darwell as his formidable mother, who holds the suffering family together as they trek across the wasted landscape during the Dust Bowl in search of food and meager employment. A riveting tale of survival in the face of ordinary evil, it concludes with one of cinema's most stirring and often-referenced speeches.
Pinocchio (1940) - One of Disney's best, it's the standout in a productive decade for the House of Mouse. Adventurous enough to appease modern audiences, it includes timeless lessons on the values of honesty, bravery and unselfishness. When You Wish Upon a Star remains synonymous with Disney, and Jiminy Cricket is equally iconic, though my favorite character is the gentle Geppetto, first of the great Disney dads.
Dumbo (1941) - It's a single parent again in this Disney film, though a mom in this case. Mrs. Jumbo is fiercely proud of her son despite his physical abnormality. One of many tales along the lines of Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer in which an apparent defect becomes the ticket to greatness, Dumbo encourages perseverance. Steadfast mouse Timothy operates much like Jiminy Cricket, helping his young friend achieve his goals. Dumbo's exhilarated flights, the extended scene in which the befuddled stork delivers bundles of joy to the circus animals and the trippy Pink Elephants on Parade sequence are memorable movie moments, and the Baby Mine is heartbreaking.
Bambi (1942) - Three Disneys in a row, and then I'll give it a rest for a while. Set in a pristine forest, Bambi includes some of Disney's most glorious animation. It's a good thing the visuals are so stunning, since there's precious little dialogue, and the rather shrill songs are background rather than belonging to particular characters. The movie is best in its opening half, when Bambi and his friends, enthusiastic rabbit Thumper and shy skunk Flower, are busy exploring their world, getting into all sorts of entertaining mischief. The second half is disturbingly dark, but its full-circle ending is one again tranquil. An excellent precursor to The Lion King.
Casablanca (1942) - I'm not usually much for wartime epics, but this one's so iconic I can't leave it out. Humphrey Bogart is particularly terrific in this story of star-crossed love and a world in turmoil. Some of the most quotable lines of the decade come from this film. Even if they are sometimes misquoted...
It's a Wonderful Life (1946) - Jimmy Stewart gained a reputation for playing decent everymen, and George Bailey seems to be the first character on most people's minds when they make that association. George isn't perfect; by the time the angel Clarence comes to intervene in his life, he's downright surly. But then, he has a right; his life hasn't gone the way he'd intended, and now he's on the verge of bankruptcy because of a stupid mistake that wasn't his fault. Like Ebenezer Scrooge in Charles Dickens' Christmas classic, George has an opportunity to see where the decisions of his past have led him and those around him. But in his case, it's a positive revelation. It's the perfect movie to watch when you're feeling down and out, the perfect reminder that the good things we do make an impact, even if we can't always see the results for ourselves.
The Bishop's Wife (1947) - In a similar vein to the above, this one stars suave Cary Grant, who comes into the life of an overworked man of the cloth in an effort to improve his circumstances, though falling for his wife in the process complicates matters. It's hard to say whether I prefer this or the '90s remake, The Preacher's Wife. Both are gently humorous, romantic and Christmassy.
Miracle on 34th St. (1947) - Same goes for this one, in which Natalie Wood plays the serious little girl who comes to believe that the elderly gentleman she's befriended really is Santa Claus. This, too, had a remake in the '90s, and again, I find it hard to decide between the two. But for years, this was the ultimate Santa Claus movie, with nothing really to rival it. Give it a whirl some Thanksgiving and you'll soon see why.
The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (1947) - This one will be getting the remake treatment, but it's not there yet. We studied the story in my freshman year of English, and the movie puts the talents of Danny Kaye to good use in adapting this tale of a hen-pecked daydreamer for the big screen. Mike Myers is no Danny Kaye, but I'm curious to see what he will do with the character...
The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad (1949) - It's not a full-length masterpiece, but two beloved stories get the animated Disney treatment here. Gangly Ichabod Crane of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and rambunctious Mr. Toad of The Wind in the Willows spring from the screen with vitality, each as idiosyncratic as the other. Ichabod puts me in mind of Halloween, while Toad makes me long for warm, leisurely summer days, but both are magnificent characters year-round.
The Grapes of Wrath (1940) - Henry Fonda gives perhaps his greatest performances as Tom Joad, champion of the oppressed, alongside Jane Darwell as his formidable mother, who holds the suffering family together as they trek across the wasted landscape during the Dust Bowl in search of food and meager employment. A riveting tale of survival in the face of ordinary evil, it concludes with one of cinema's most stirring and often-referenced speeches.
Pinocchio (1940) - One of Disney's best, it's the standout in a productive decade for the House of Mouse. Adventurous enough to appease modern audiences, it includes timeless lessons on the values of honesty, bravery and unselfishness. When You Wish Upon a Star remains synonymous with Disney, and Jiminy Cricket is equally iconic, though my favorite character is the gentle Geppetto, first of the great Disney dads.
Dumbo (1941) - It's a single parent again in this Disney film, though a mom in this case. Mrs. Jumbo is fiercely proud of her son despite his physical abnormality. One of many tales along the lines of Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer in which an apparent defect becomes the ticket to greatness, Dumbo encourages perseverance. Steadfast mouse Timothy operates much like Jiminy Cricket, helping his young friend achieve his goals. Dumbo's exhilarated flights, the extended scene in which the befuddled stork delivers bundles of joy to the circus animals and the trippy Pink Elephants on Parade sequence are memorable movie moments, and the Baby Mine is heartbreaking.
Bambi (1942) - Three Disneys in a row, and then I'll give it a rest for a while. Set in a pristine forest, Bambi includes some of Disney's most glorious animation. It's a good thing the visuals are so stunning, since there's precious little dialogue, and the rather shrill songs are background rather than belonging to particular characters. The movie is best in its opening half, when Bambi and his friends, enthusiastic rabbit Thumper and shy skunk Flower, are busy exploring their world, getting into all sorts of entertaining mischief. The second half is disturbingly dark, but its full-circle ending is one again tranquil. An excellent precursor to The Lion King.
Casablanca (1942) - I'm not usually much for wartime epics, but this one's so iconic I can't leave it out. Humphrey Bogart is particularly terrific in this story of star-crossed love and a world in turmoil. Some of the most quotable lines of the decade come from this film. Even if they are sometimes misquoted...
It's a Wonderful Life (1946) - Jimmy Stewart gained a reputation for playing decent everymen, and George Bailey seems to be the first character on most people's minds when they make that association. George isn't perfect; by the time the angel Clarence comes to intervene in his life, he's downright surly. But then, he has a right; his life hasn't gone the way he'd intended, and now he's on the verge of bankruptcy because of a stupid mistake that wasn't his fault. Like Ebenezer Scrooge in Charles Dickens' Christmas classic, George has an opportunity to see where the decisions of his past have led him and those around him. But in his case, it's a positive revelation. It's the perfect movie to watch when you're feeling down and out, the perfect reminder that the good things we do make an impact, even if we can't always see the results for ourselves.
The Bishop's Wife (1947) - In a similar vein to the above, this one stars suave Cary Grant, who comes into the life of an overworked man of the cloth in an effort to improve his circumstances, though falling for his wife in the process complicates matters. It's hard to say whether I prefer this or the '90s remake, The Preacher's Wife. Both are gently humorous, romantic and Christmassy.
Miracle on 34th St. (1947) - Same goes for this one, in which Natalie Wood plays the serious little girl who comes to believe that the elderly gentleman she's befriended really is Santa Claus. This, too, had a remake in the '90s, and again, I find it hard to decide between the two. But for years, this was the ultimate Santa Claus movie, with nothing really to rival it. Give it a whirl some Thanksgiving and you'll soon see why.
The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (1947) - This one will be getting the remake treatment, but it's not there yet. We studied the story in my freshman year of English, and the movie puts the talents of Danny Kaye to good use in adapting this tale of a hen-pecked daydreamer for the big screen. Mike Myers is no Danny Kaye, but I'm curious to see what he will do with the character...
The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad (1949) - It's not a full-length masterpiece, but two beloved stories get the animated Disney treatment here. Gangly Ichabod Crane of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and rambunctious Mr. Toad of The Wind in the Willows spring from the screen with vitality, each as idiosyncratic as the other. Ichabod puts me in mind of Halloween, while Toad makes me long for warm, leisurely summer days, but both are magnificent characters year-round.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
My Top Ten Movies of the Early '90s ('90-'94)
I'm a child of both the '80s and the '90s, and many of my favorite
movies come from those decades. In the first half of the '90s, I was
between 9 and 13, and my pre-teen years were filled with some terrific
cinema. These are my ten favorites. Give or take a few...
The Rescuers Down Under (1990) / Beauty and the Beast (1991) / Aladdin (1992) / The Lion King (1994) - Okay, so I'm totally cheating on this one because Disney could do no wrong in the early '90s. The sequel to The Rescuers rates just below the others only because it isn't a musical. I like it much better than the first; the animation of all that glorious Australian wilderness is fantastic, especially during the flying-on-the-eagle's-back sequences, and George C. Scott marvelously voices one of my favorite Disney villains. The last three all have amazing songs to go along with the brilliant animation and terrific stories. Beauty and the Beast boasts my favorite Disney heroine, Aladdin the most manic Disney sidekick ever and The Lion King my all-time favorite Disney opening sequence. I saw them all in the theater, and I have them all on tape. Disney doesn't get much better than this.
Ghost (1990) - Seems to me we bought this one on a whim at McDonald's for five bucks one time, and it quickly became a favorite, mostly due to the hilarious antics of Whoopi Goldberg as a crackpot psychic who can suddenly talk to dead people and the touching finale, which features a gorgeous orchestral version of Unchained Melody. Oh, and it's pretty darn romantic too.
Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (1992) / Star Trek: Generations (1994) - Neither is my favorite Trek movie, but I think Undiscovered is the first one I saw in a regular theater. I seem to remember it being sold out the first time we tried to see it and being so frustrated about it that I bought the novelization. It's a landmark movie since it's the last to include the full original cast, and it's one of the most philosophical of the Trek films. Spock has some great moments with his protege, and the scene in which Uhura must pass herself off as a Klingon is hilarious. And all that Shakespeare isn't bad either. Generations is the first to feature the cast of The Next Generation, and it probably is my favorite of their films, partly because of the prominence of Guinan (Whoopi Goldberg again), an uncharacteristically serene character who tended to be underused, partly because of the chance to bring the two greatest captains of the Enterprise face to face with each other, partly because of the idyllic quality of the Nexus scenes, but mostly because I absolutely love Brent Spiner's performance as Data, my favorite character, learns to deal with his acquisition of human emotions.
Far and Away (1992) - I'd never heard of this before we watched it in my eleventh grade history class, but I quickly fell in love with it, and shortly after we finished it at school, I insisted we rent it at home. My family loved it as much as I did, so it wasn't long before we bought it, and watching it has become a St. Patrick's Day tradition. I love the humor, the sweetness of the opposites-attract romance, the cinematography, the historical interest, the score, the cast and of course all those Irish accents, even if some of them are phony. It's a movie that my brother and I still quote to each other frequently, and no matter how many times I hear it was a flop, it will be one of my favorites.
Sister Act (1992) - This was a second choice when Mom and I saw it on our annual back-to-school shopping outing. We'd planned to see 3 Ninjas, but it was sold out, so we gave this a try even though Mom had an idea that I'd find it boring. Well, it was anything but. Whoopi Goldberg had me in stitches again, and I found the real nuns at the convent where she goes into hiding to be wonderfully touching as well as funny. This is the movie that introduced me to Harvey Keitel and the formidable Maggie Smith, as well as a lot of great Motown music. I was singing the sisters' hit renditions of those songs for days, and I couldn't wait to get this one on video. Awesome music, side-splitting humor and a moving story of redemption. And nuns! What more could I ask for?
Free Willy (1993) - I saw this one on the next year's back-to-school outing and loved it just as much. I've always been a "save the whales" kind of gal, so I liked the premise, and I found the characters endearing and the film surprisingly free of objectionable material. A tough-on-his-luck kid name Jesse abandoned by his mother gets a new shot at life thanks to a similarly alone orca, his understanding trainers and a couple who want to welcome Jesse into their home despite his issues. It's a heartwarming movie, and that shot of Willy leaping over the barrier is as iconic as E. T. and Elliot flying across the moon. And its theme song, Will You Be There, still stands as my all-time favorite Michael Jackson song.
Angels in the Outfield (1994) - Probably my favorite sports-related movie, this film about a boy whose prayer for divine assistance for his favorite team is motivated by a desire for a family is a great tale of friendship and faith. Christopher Lloyd is his usual zany self as the main angel with whom young Roger communicates, and I love Danny Glover's performance as the cranky coach who begins to reassess his worldview when his team suddenly starts winning. The angels provide some terrific visuals as they help the players pull off some amazing stunts, but what I really love are the ways in which a little bit of faith transforms the characters for the better. And the image of the crowd standing en masse and giving the angel signal is one of my favorite movie moments.
Forrest Gump (1994) - I remember hearing about this movie on Good Morning America and thinking it looked interesting but probably wasn't a movie for kids. It stayed in the theater for ages; it seems inconceivable to me now that a movie could have lasted in the cinema for nearly a year, but I saw it in April of '95 with my mom and grandparents, the only movie the five of us have all seen together in the theater. And I really got what all the fuss was about. Tom Hanks is absolutely pitch-perfect as Forrest, a Bear of Little Brain But Much Heart. He might be a little slow, but it doesn't stop him from making his mark in a multitude of ways. Hanks' performance, an outstanding (and very quotable) screenplay that is as touching as it is hilarious, impressive special effects planting Forrest into historical footage and a soundtrack featuring a couple dozen of the best songs of the sixties and seventies are just some of the reasons I love this movie. I can't go more than a couple of years without watching it; from the moment Alan Silvestri's delicate feather theme begins to play, I am transported. I simply cannot watch this movie without emerging feeling a little better about life.
The Rescuers Down Under (1990) / Beauty and the Beast (1991) / Aladdin (1992) / The Lion King (1994) - Okay, so I'm totally cheating on this one because Disney could do no wrong in the early '90s. The sequel to The Rescuers rates just below the others only because it isn't a musical. I like it much better than the first; the animation of all that glorious Australian wilderness is fantastic, especially during the flying-on-the-eagle's-back sequences, and George C. Scott marvelously voices one of my favorite Disney villains. The last three all have amazing songs to go along with the brilliant animation and terrific stories. Beauty and the Beast boasts my favorite Disney heroine, Aladdin the most manic Disney sidekick ever and The Lion King my all-time favorite Disney opening sequence. I saw them all in the theater, and I have them all on tape. Disney doesn't get much better than this.
Ghost (1990) - Seems to me we bought this one on a whim at McDonald's for five bucks one time, and it quickly became a favorite, mostly due to the hilarious antics of Whoopi Goldberg as a crackpot psychic who can suddenly talk to dead people and the touching finale, which features a gorgeous orchestral version of Unchained Melody. Oh, and it's pretty darn romantic too.
Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (1992) / Star Trek: Generations (1994) - Neither is my favorite Trek movie, but I think Undiscovered is the first one I saw in a regular theater. I seem to remember it being sold out the first time we tried to see it and being so frustrated about it that I bought the novelization. It's a landmark movie since it's the last to include the full original cast, and it's one of the most philosophical of the Trek films. Spock has some great moments with his protege, and the scene in which Uhura must pass herself off as a Klingon is hilarious. And all that Shakespeare isn't bad either. Generations is the first to feature the cast of The Next Generation, and it probably is my favorite of their films, partly because of the prominence of Guinan (Whoopi Goldberg again), an uncharacteristically serene character who tended to be underused, partly because of the chance to bring the two greatest captains of the Enterprise face to face with each other, partly because of the idyllic quality of the Nexus scenes, but mostly because I absolutely love Brent Spiner's performance as Data, my favorite character, learns to deal with his acquisition of human emotions.
Far and Away (1992) - I'd never heard of this before we watched it in my eleventh grade history class, but I quickly fell in love with it, and shortly after we finished it at school, I insisted we rent it at home. My family loved it as much as I did, so it wasn't long before we bought it, and watching it has become a St. Patrick's Day tradition. I love the humor, the sweetness of the opposites-attract romance, the cinematography, the historical interest, the score, the cast and of course all those Irish accents, even if some of them are phony. It's a movie that my brother and I still quote to each other frequently, and no matter how many times I hear it was a flop, it will be one of my favorites.
Sister Act (1992) - This was a second choice when Mom and I saw it on our annual back-to-school shopping outing. We'd planned to see 3 Ninjas, but it was sold out, so we gave this a try even though Mom had an idea that I'd find it boring. Well, it was anything but. Whoopi Goldberg had me in stitches again, and I found the real nuns at the convent where she goes into hiding to be wonderfully touching as well as funny. This is the movie that introduced me to Harvey Keitel and the formidable Maggie Smith, as well as a lot of great Motown music. I was singing the sisters' hit renditions of those songs for days, and I couldn't wait to get this one on video. Awesome music, side-splitting humor and a moving story of redemption. And nuns! What more could I ask for?
Free Willy (1993) - I saw this one on the next year's back-to-school outing and loved it just as much. I've always been a "save the whales" kind of gal, so I liked the premise, and I found the characters endearing and the film surprisingly free of objectionable material. A tough-on-his-luck kid name Jesse abandoned by his mother gets a new shot at life thanks to a similarly alone orca, his understanding trainers and a couple who want to welcome Jesse into their home despite his issues. It's a heartwarming movie, and that shot of Willy leaping over the barrier is as iconic as E. T. and Elliot flying across the moon. And its theme song, Will You Be There, still stands as my all-time favorite Michael Jackson song.
Angels in the Outfield (1994) - Probably my favorite sports-related movie, this film about a boy whose prayer for divine assistance for his favorite team is motivated by a desire for a family is a great tale of friendship and faith. Christopher Lloyd is his usual zany self as the main angel with whom young Roger communicates, and I love Danny Glover's performance as the cranky coach who begins to reassess his worldview when his team suddenly starts winning. The angels provide some terrific visuals as they help the players pull off some amazing stunts, but what I really love are the ways in which a little bit of faith transforms the characters for the better. And the image of the crowd standing en masse and giving the angel signal is one of my favorite movie moments.
Forrest Gump (1994) - I remember hearing about this movie on Good Morning America and thinking it looked interesting but probably wasn't a movie for kids. It stayed in the theater for ages; it seems inconceivable to me now that a movie could have lasted in the cinema for nearly a year, but I saw it in April of '95 with my mom and grandparents, the only movie the five of us have all seen together in the theater. And I really got what all the fuss was about. Tom Hanks is absolutely pitch-perfect as Forrest, a Bear of Little Brain But Much Heart. He might be a little slow, but it doesn't stop him from making his mark in a multitude of ways. Hanks' performance, an outstanding (and very quotable) screenplay that is as touching as it is hilarious, impressive special effects planting Forrest into historical footage and a soundtrack featuring a couple dozen of the best songs of the sixties and seventies are just some of the reasons I love this movie. I can't go more than a couple of years without watching it; from the moment Alan Silvestri's delicate feather theme begins to play, I am transported. I simply cannot watch this movie without emerging feeling a little better about life.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Cary Grant Patches Lives and Steals Hearts in The Bishop's Wife
I was in high school when The Preacher's Wife
hit theaters. Though I'd wanted to see it back then, I didn't get
around to it until this year. My mom, meanwhile, had been hearing good
things about The Bishop's Wife, on which the former is based, so
once I kicked off my Christmas movie watching with the angelic Denzel, I
figured I might as well move on to Cary Grant.
The Bishop's Wife is directed by Henry Koster and written by Leonardo Bercovici and Robert Sherwood. The first major difference between the two movies is that this 1948 film is in black and white, a condition I always find gravely disappointing, but if the movie is engaging enough it stops bugging me after a little while. This one is. The second significant difference is that while every major character in The Preacher's Wife is black, every major character in this movie is white.
It's a very different sort of setting, and David Niven, as Bishop Henry Brougham, has a decidedly aristocratic air. He's English, detached from his family and lives in a mansion, where he is attended by servants, one of whom is played by Elsa Lanchester, who I know as sourpuss nanny Katie Nana in Mary Poppins. So when Dudley (Grant) shows up with his little bag of angelic tricks to help Henry get control over his life, I couldn't help but think this movie has as much in common with Mary Poppins as with The Preacher's Wife.
I found Loretta Young more engaging than Whitney Houston in the role of the wife, Julia, who supports her husband's ministry but is beginning to feel neglected. She's a warm, passionate woman, and her vivacity increases in Dudley's presence. In this original version, Dudley has always been an angel, an entirely different order of being from humans, and he's been averting calamities for centuries. He's hobnobbed with ancient royalty, but he's never before become so entranced by a woman that he actually wishes he could stop being an angel. It comes to that in this movie, and Julia is the one who must ultimately decide the course of Dudley's future.
The plot is pretty similar overall. In both films, Henry is pressured by someone very wealthy to agree to the building of an opulent cathedral. In this case, it's elderly Mrs. Hamilton (Gladys Cooper), who seems cold as ice but whose past hides a private pain that Dudley is uniquely qualified to unlock. He oversteps his bounds a bit by taking Julia to a restaurant of great importance to her and her husband and spends an idyllic evening ice skating with her in the park.
Because this Dudley is an angel in a truer sense of the word than Washington's Dudley, he does a lot more than change just the Bishop. He has a profound impact on several minor characters who don't have counterparts in the remake, including world-weary cabbie Sylvester (James Gleason) and atheistic history professor Wutheridge (Monty Woolley). Of course, because he's Cary Grant, he has a different sort of impact on every woman he meets. All the swooning gets a little silly after a while. And I get the impression that these ladies were not acting.
It's hard to say which of the two films I liked better, as there were aspects of each that I preferred. While I would much rather watch The Bishop's Wife in color, the movie is vibrant enough to make up for it, much like its contemporary, It's a Wonderful Life. While Bishop Henry is no George Bailey, we want his life to turn around, and it sure is fun to see just how that happens.
The Bishop's Wife is directed by Henry Koster and written by Leonardo Bercovici and Robert Sherwood. The first major difference between the two movies is that this 1948 film is in black and white, a condition I always find gravely disappointing, but if the movie is engaging enough it stops bugging me after a little while. This one is. The second significant difference is that while every major character in The Preacher's Wife is black, every major character in this movie is white.
It's a very different sort of setting, and David Niven, as Bishop Henry Brougham, has a decidedly aristocratic air. He's English, detached from his family and lives in a mansion, where he is attended by servants, one of whom is played by Elsa Lanchester, who I know as sourpuss nanny Katie Nana in Mary Poppins. So when Dudley (Grant) shows up with his little bag of angelic tricks to help Henry get control over his life, I couldn't help but think this movie has as much in common with Mary Poppins as with The Preacher's Wife.
I found Loretta Young more engaging than Whitney Houston in the role of the wife, Julia, who supports her husband's ministry but is beginning to feel neglected. She's a warm, passionate woman, and her vivacity increases in Dudley's presence. In this original version, Dudley has always been an angel, an entirely different order of being from humans, and he's been averting calamities for centuries. He's hobnobbed with ancient royalty, but he's never before become so entranced by a woman that he actually wishes he could stop being an angel. It comes to that in this movie, and Julia is the one who must ultimately decide the course of Dudley's future.
The plot is pretty similar overall. In both films, Henry is pressured by someone very wealthy to agree to the building of an opulent cathedral. In this case, it's elderly Mrs. Hamilton (Gladys Cooper), who seems cold as ice but whose past hides a private pain that Dudley is uniquely qualified to unlock. He oversteps his bounds a bit by taking Julia to a restaurant of great importance to her and her husband and spends an idyllic evening ice skating with her in the park.
Because this Dudley is an angel in a truer sense of the word than Washington's Dudley, he does a lot more than change just the Bishop. He has a profound impact on several minor characters who don't have counterparts in the remake, including world-weary cabbie Sylvester (James Gleason) and atheistic history professor Wutheridge (Monty Woolley). Of course, because he's Cary Grant, he has a different sort of impact on every woman he meets. All the swooning gets a little silly after a while. And I get the impression that these ladies were not acting.
It's hard to say which of the two films I liked better, as there were aspects of each that I preferred. While I would much rather watch The Bishop's Wife in color, the movie is vibrant enough to make up for it, much like its contemporary, It's a Wonderful Life. While Bishop Henry is no George Bailey, we want his life to turn around, and it sure is fun to see just how that happens.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
An Angel Helps Bring Unity in The Preacher's Wife
Back in late November, I arranged my Netflix queue so that I would be
getting nothing but Christmas movies for the next month or so. The first
of my Christmas flicks was The Preacher's Wife, which I'd been meaning to see for quite some time. Though I knew it was a remake of The Bishop's Wife,
which I'd never seen either, I opted for the more recent movie first,
since I wanted to watch it without knowing most of the basic plot ahead
of time.
The title character in The Preacher's Wife, which is directed by Penny Marshall, is Julia Biggs, played by pop powerhouse Whitney Houston. Julia is the daughter of a much-loved preacher, and she is extremely active in the church where her husband Henry (Courtney B. Vance) took over for him following his death. Henry has devoted his life to caring for others, but it's become exhausting, and now Joe Hamilton (Gregory Hines), a wealthy former congregant, wants to buy his church and replace it with a fancy new cathedral in a location more convenient for his plans for the city.
With so many issues to deal with at once, Henry cries out in desperation for divine assistance, and his prayer results in an extended visit from Dudley, an angel portrayed by Denzel Washington. Dashing Dudley, who has a knack for lifting spirits with a touch of his hand, is the real star of the show, the catalyst who brings about extraordinary changes in a downtrodden neighborhood. Some are more open to him than others. The young narrator, Jeremiah (Justin Pierre Edmund), son of Henry and Julia, is initially wary but soon comes to trust Dudley completely. Meanwhile, Julia begins spending more and more time with him, finding him personable and much more accessible than her husband is these days, and Henry, who along with Jeremiah is the only character with an inkling of who Dudley really is, has trouble seeing anything angelic in some handsome stranger sweeping his wife off her feet.
The Preacher's Wife is a very sweet movie about a community coming together in a time of crisis and a man adjusting his life to reclaim the joy and enthusiasm that used to drive him. It's about rekindling a relationship and expanding the definition of family. And, of course, it's about being willing to call upon a higher power when life is getting a little out of hand. Like Clarence of It's a Wonderful Life, Dudley is not a theologically correct angel; he's a former human, back to Earth for the first time since his death, and given his exhilaration at his return, it's fairly understandable that he finds himself drawn to Julia, to the point of misusing the powers bestowed upon him (as when he stops every red light in town so Henry will be unable to join them for an ice skating outing). Dudley may be an angel, but he isn't perfect.
He sure is lovable, though, and plenty easy on the eyes. I always tend to enjoy Denzel Washington's performances, and this mostly light-hearted role is one of my favorites. Dudley isn't into grand gestures, which makes it fun to see the subtler ways he affects those around him. I was previously familiar with Vance as Jim in The Adventures of Huck Finn, where I thought he made the perfect faithful counterpart to Elijah Wood's rascally Huck. Initially, he's not quite as likable here, but that changes as we get a sense of the man he used to be and could be again. Houston gives a good performance, though I find her less interesting than her co-stars, partly because the movie often seems more interested in showcasing her singing talent than developing her character. One or two of her big numbers feel entirely superfluous, and my favorite songs are those in which the voices of children are more prominent. Speaking of which, little Edmund is absolutely adorable, and his perspective gives the movie extra heart.
There are points at which The Preacher's Wife seems to borrow heavily from It's a Wonderful Life, but then that is one of a small number of classics that have found their way into dozens of Christmas tales. This has a story all its own to tell, even in comparison with The Bishop's Wife, and it's one that's almost sure to leave you smiling.
The title character in The Preacher's Wife, which is directed by Penny Marshall, is Julia Biggs, played by pop powerhouse Whitney Houston. Julia is the daughter of a much-loved preacher, and she is extremely active in the church where her husband Henry (Courtney B. Vance) took over for him following his death. Henry has devoted his life to caring for others, but it's become exhausting, and now Joe Hamilton (Gregory Hines), a wealthy former congregant, wants to buy his church and replace it with a fancy new cathedral in a location more convenient for his plans for the city.
With so many issues to deal with at once, Henry cries out in desperation for divine assistance, and his prayer results in an extended visit from Dudley, an angel portrayed by Denzel Washington. Dashing Dudley, who has a knack for lifting spirits with a touch of his hand, is the real star of the show, the catalyst who brings about extraordinary changes in a downtrodden neighborhood. Some are more open to him than others. The young narrator, Jeremiah (Justin Pierre Edmund), son of Henry and Julia, is initially wary but soon comes to trust Dudley completely. Meanwhile, Julia begins spending more and more time with him, finding him personable and much more accessible than her husband is these days, and Henry, who along with Jeremiah is the only character with an inkling of who Dudley really is, has trouble seeing anything angelic in some handsome stranger sweeping his wife off her feet.
The Preacher's Wife is a very sweet movie about a community coming together in a time of crisis and a man adjusting his life to reclaim the joy and enthusiasm that used to drive him. It's about rekindling a relationship and expanding the definition of family. And, of course, it's about being willing to call upon a higher power when life is getting a little out of hand. Like Clarence of It's a Wonderful Life, Dudley is not a theologically correct angel; he's a former human, back to Earth for the first time since his death, and given his exhilaration at his return, it's fairly understandable that he finds himself drawn to Julia, to the point of misusing the powers bestowed upon him (as when he stops every red light in town so Henry will be unable to join them for an ice skating outing). Dudley may be an angel, but he isn't perfect.
He sure is lovable, though, and plenty easy on the eyes. I always tend to enjoy Denzel Washington's performances, and this mostly light-hearted role is one of my favorites. Dudley isn't into grand gestures, which makes it fun to see the subtler ways he affects those around him. I was previously familiar with Vance as Jim in The Adventures of Huck Finn, where I thought he made the perfect faithful counterpart to Elijah Wood's rascally Huck. Initially, he's not quite as likable here, but that changes as we get a sense of the man he used to be and could be again. Houston gives a good performance, though I find her less interesting than her co-stars, partly because the movie often seems more interested in showcasing her singing talent than developing her character. One or two of her big numbers feel entirely superfluous, and my favorite songs are those in which the voices of children are more prominent. Speaking of which, little Edmund is absolutely adorable, and his perspective gives the movie extra heart.
There are points at which The Preacher's Wife seems to borrow heavily from It's a Wonderful Life, but then that is one of a small number of classics that have found their way into dozens of Christmas tales. This has a story all its own to tell, even in comparison with The Bishop's Wife, and it's one that's almost sure to leave you smiling.
Monday, January 5, 2009
One Magic Christmas Isn't As Enchanting as the Title Suggests
One thing I love about December is the abundance of Christmas movies
available for viewing. I've had Netflix to help put me in the holiday
spirit the last couple of years, but it's always a pretty good bet that
flipping through the channels will yield something Christmassy as well.
That was what led my brother and me to One Magic Christmas, which
we watched at my grandparents' house after the rest of the family had
turned in for the night. It aired on the Hallmark channel, so before it
even started we figured we had a pretty good idea of what the movie's
tone would be. It turned out to be darker than we expected and rather
convoluted too. It made for some interesting late-night viewing, but
it's not a movie I'll be seeking to slip in with our traditional
favorites next year.
One Magic Christmas is a 1985 movie written and directed by Phillip Borsos and starring Mary Steenburgen as Ginny Hanks Grainger, a woman who, due to a recent searing personal loss and an ongoing family economic crisis, doesn't want anything to do with Christmas this year. The whole season just makes her cranky. Her husband Jack (Gary Basaraba), on the other hand, still finds Christmas as enchanting as he did when he was a youngster. He even has a childlike dream for the season: to open a bike shop. Practical Ginny is convinced such a move would lead to the family's financial ruination, however, and it doesn't take their children, Abbie (Elisabeth Harnois) and Cal (Robbie Magwood), long to figure out there's some major tension in the household. The stress of it all presses sweet little Abbie to venture outside in the middle of the night to deliver a last-minute letter to Santa pleading for her mom to catch the spirit of Christmas. It's at this point that she meets Gideon (Harry Dean Stanton), a Christmas angel who promises to help in fulfilling her request.
What follows is a mash-up of It's a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Carol and every special you've ever seen about a favored child being granted a close encounter with Santa. Steenburgen is shrill as the overwrought Ginny; though it's easy to sympathize with her plight, she's not nearly as likable as George Bailey, and her surliness is less entertaining than Scrooge's. Stanton's angel is gentle but awfully morose-looking. I couldn't help thinking of C. S. Lewis's gloomy Puddleglum whenever he turned up. Santa (Jan Rubes) in this film bears more of a resemblance to the traditional St. Nicholas than usual; his home feels cozy and old-fashioned, and he is much skinnier than normal. He speaks with a Czech accent, which is certainly an unusual touch. His role in the movie is small but significant, as he is key to Ginny's eventual transformation.
Harnois is adorable, which works in the movie's favor since Abbie is the one who really moves the plot along, even more than Ginny. I enjoyed her performance for the most part, and Abbie's interaction with her brother provided some fun moments. What I couldn't really get into were the movie's weird plot twists and some of the ideas it presents, like the notion that Santa's workers are not elves but exceptionally good people who have died. The movie starts getting really strange about halfway through, and we eventually learn that the events that unfold are akin to George's experiences toward the end of It's a Wonderful Life, but that's not entirely clear from the get-go, which makes for some rather uncomfortable viewing, especially when two major characters bite the dust. I'm also not that wild about the way so much hinges on a letter that Ginny once wrote to Santa Claus, and a really vacuous letter at that. For all the talk of angels, I don't recall any overt references to God; Santa seems to serve as a stand-in.
One Magic Christmas has a nice message to impart about the importance of family and of retaining a childlike sense of wonder. But the way in which it gets there is a little bizarre for my tastes. I’d skip this one and stick with one of the movies that inspired it.
One Magic Christmas is a 1985 movie written and directed by Phillip Borsos and starring Mary Steenburgen as Ginny Hanks Grainger, a woman who, due to a recent searing personal loss and an ongoing family economic crisis, doesn't want anything to do with Christmas this year. The whole season just makes her cranky. Her husband Jack (Gary Basaraba), on the other hand, still finds Christmas as enchanting as he did when he was a youngster. He even has a childlike dream for the season: to open a bike shop. Practical Ginny is convinced such a move would lead to the family's financial ruination, however, and it doesn't take their children, Abbie (Elisabeth Harnois) and Cal (Robbie Magwood), long to figure out there's some major tension in the household. The stress of it all presses sweet little Abbie to venture outside in the middle of the night to deliver a last-minute letter to Santa pleading for her mom to catch the spirit of Christmas. It's at this point that she meets Gideon (Harry Dean Stanton), a Christmas angel who promises to help in fulfilling her request.
What follows is a mash-up of It's a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Carol and every special you've ever seen about a favored child being granted a close encounter with Santa. Steenburgen is shrill as the overwrought Ginny; though it's easy to sympathize with her plight, she's not nearly as likable as George Bailey, and her surliness is less entertaining than Scrooge's. Stanton's angel is gentle but awfully morose-looking. I couldn't help thinking of C. S. Lewis's gloomy Puddleglum whenever he turned up. Santa (Jan Rubes) in this film bears more of a resemblance to the traditional St. Nicholas than usual; his home feels cozy and old-fashioned, and he is much skinnier than normal. He speaks with a Czech accent, which is certainly an unusual touch. His role in the movie is small but significant, as he is key to Ginny's eventual transformation.
Harnois is adorable, which works in the movie's favor since Abbie is the one who really moves the plot along, even more than Ginny. I enjoyed her performance for the most part, and Abbie's interaction with her brother provided some fun moments. What I couldn't really get into were the movie's weird plot twists and some of the ideas it presents, like the notion that Santa's workers are not elves but exceptionally good people who have died. The movie starts getting really strange about halfway through, and we eventually learn that the events that unfold are akin to George's experiences toward the end of It's a Wonderful Life, but that's not entirely clear from the get-go, which makes for some rather uncomfortable viewing, especially when two major characters bite the dust. I'm also not that wild about the way so much hinges on a letter that Ginny once wrote to Santa Claus, and a really vacuous letter at that. For all the talk of angels, I don't recall any overt references to God; Santa seems to serve as a stand-in.
One Magic Christmas has a nice message to impart about the importance of family and of retaining a childlike sense of wonder. But the way in which it gets there is a little bizarre for my tastes. I’d skip this one and stick with one of the movies that inspired it.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Cookie Angel Crumbles
When I was younger, baking gingerbread cookies was a much-anticipated
part of my Christmas preparations. I loved decorating them with
intricate designs for the random shapes like stars and bells and with
animated expressions for the soon-to-be-eaten people. I read the story
of the Gingerbread Man many times, but I never had any desire for my
cookies to come to life. I don't know whether the lovingly iced and
sprinkled protagonist of Cookie Angel finds herself quite
suddenly alive on Christmas Eve as a result of fervent wishes from the
children who baked her or merely because the cryptically whispering
snowflakes falling outside are in the mood to dole out gifts. I don't
think it much matters; I would find the story odd either way.
There's an old idea in many children's stories that toys come alive when no one is watching. It's been successfully explored in the Toy Story movies, Hans Christian Andersen's tales, The Velveteen Rabbit and, to my mind at least, Eugene Field's maligned Little Boy Blue. With all these top-notch precedents, I am not prepared to be satisfied with a substandard offering about a motley crew whose leader is edible. At least we don't expect that she will be eaten, at least not right away; there are plans to hang her on the tree, and who really wants to munch on a cookie tainted with pine sap? We don't make it to Christmas, though, at least the part of Christmas in which the humans are awake, so we don't really know Cookie Angel's destiny.
When Cookie Angel receives the gift of life, I assumed that it was for some profound purpose. Perhaps author Bethany Roberts saw it that way. After all, the angel does keep all of the presents in line. But what is the point of them having this rare opportunity to walk and talk when all they do is create chaos and then fall asleep, presumably not to awaken until next Christmas? I don't get it, and while the Nativity scene under the tree goes with the angel and the carols she mysteriously knows how to sing, there's something off about the way the baby Jesus is incorporated into the story.
Vladimir Vagin's illustrations are colorful but pretty generic-looking, though I do like the snowflakes, which look as magical as the text indicates. The future Christmas gifts, which include a teddy bear, a jack-in-the-box, a doll and a monkey, each have distinct personalities, as does the dog that is disturbed by all the noise of the troublemaking toys. There are some amusing antics, but the impression I got throughout most of the action was of meaningless havoc.
A glance at any bookstore or library will soon reveal a wealth of Christmas-themed picture books. With so many tasty alternatives available, I wouldn't recommend that anyone bite into Cookie Angel
There's an old idea in many children's stories that toys come alive when no one is watching. It's been successfully explored in the Toy Story movies, Hans Christian Andersen's tales, The Velveteen Rabbit and, to my mind at least, Eugene Field's maligned Little Boy Blue. With all these top-notch precedents, I am not prepared to be satisfied with a substandard offering about a motley crew whose leader is edible. At least we don't expect that she will be eaten, at least not right away; there are plans to hang her on the tree, and who really wants to munch on a cookie tainted with pine sap? We don't make it to Christmas, though, at least the part of Christmas in which the humans are awake, so we don't really know Cookie Angel's destiny.
When Cookie Angel receives the gift of life, I assumed that it was for some profound purpose. Perhaps author Bethany Roberts saw it that way. After all, the angel does keep all of the presents in line. But what is the point of them having this rare opportunity to walk and talk when all they do is create chaos and then fall asleep, presumably not to awaken until next Christmas? I don't get it, and while the Nativity scene under the tree goes with the angel and the carols she mysteriously knows how to sing, there's something off about the way the baby Jesus is incorporated into the story.
Vladimir Vagin's illustrations are colorful but pretty generic-looking, though I do like the snowflakes, which look as magical as the text indicates. The future Christmas gifts, which include a teddy bear, a jack-in-the-box, a doll and a monkey, each have distinct personalities, as does the dog that is disturbed by all the noise of the troublemaking toys. There are some amusing antics, but the impression I got throughout most of the action was of meaningless havoc.
A glance at any bookstore or library will soon reveal a wealth of Christmas-themed picture books. With so many tasty alternatives available, I wouldn't recommend that anyone bite into Cookie Angel
Wednesday, April 12, 2000
Do You Believe in Angels?
I do, and I was thrilled when my grandma first sent this magazine along
to us a couple years ago. It is filled with inspiring true stories about
angel encounters from all across the globe. Like "Chicken Soup for the
Soul," most of the stories are sent in by ordinary readers. Sometimes
the stories leave me wondering if perhaps divine intervention was
involved, and sometimes there is no room for doubt in my mind. Hundreds,
perhaps thousands, of people have poured their angelic experiences out
on paper to share with the world. Each tale is different, but they are
all tied together by the sense of peace each of the writers was left
with.
Because those "touched by an angel" come from so many walks of life, not all of them have any professional writing experience. But the beauty of the encounter shines through every time, whether the account is written by a retired schoolteacher, a mechanic, or a kindergartner.
In this hectic world, it's very comforting to think that there are angels looking out for us. Whenever I escape a harrowing situation, I cannot help but wonder...was that a wingtip that just brushed past my shoulder? The stories in this magazine will leave you amazed and peaceful, and they very well may inspire you to lighten the angels' load by performing random acts of kindness whenever you get the opportunity.
This is one of the very few magazines which I read cover to cover, and it always leaves me thirsting for more. If you need some inspiration, just stop at the nearest bookstore's magazine rack and pick up a copy. Just remember, "Never drive faster than your guardian angel can fly!"
Because those "touched by an angel" come from so many walks of life, not all of them have any professional writing experience. But the beauty of the encounter shines through every time, whether the account is written by a retired schoolteacher, a mechanic, or a kindergartner.
In this hectic world, it's very comforting to think that there are angels looking out for us. Whenever I escape a harrowing situation, I cannot help but wonder...was that a wingtip that just brushed past my shoulder? The stories in this magazine will leave you amazed and peaceful, and they very well may inspire you to lighten the angels' load by performing random acts of kindness whenever you get the opportunity.
This is one of the very few magazines which I read cover to cover, and it always leaves me thirsting for more. If you need some inspiration, just stop at the nearest bookstore's magazine rack and pick up a copy. Just remember, "Never drive faster than your guardian angel can fly!"
Saturday, March 25, 2000
Is That Halo On Straight?
Hey, kids: Have you ever felt like the adults around you just don't
understand you? This was a big problem for the youngster in The Littlest Angel, a
small boy who had just recently died and gone to Heaven. Heaven was
such a big, serious place, and this Littlest Angel always seemed to be
getting into mischief. All the bigger angels complained about his
antics, and he was sent to the Understanding Angel, who realized that
the Littlest Angel was lonely and homesick. The kindly angel made a
special trip to Earth to retrieve a battered box that contained all the
Littlest Angel's most precious treasures. Once he got the box, the
Littlest Angel was happy, and he didn't get into trouble so often.
Then there was a special announcement that God would be sending His Son to Earth, and every angel was instructed to come before the Throne of God to present a gift for the child. The Littlest Angel had nothing but his box of treasures, which was his most valued possession. He bravely decided to offer it to the Lord, but he was discouraged when he saw all of the fine gifts given by the other angels. With the incredible gifts that the big angels had to offer, what would God's Son possibly want with his shabby box?
But the beautiful conclusion to this tale is a reminder that it is not the size or value of the gift that matters, but the love behind it. This heartwarming story not only helps convince children that they have something important to offer, it reminds adults to be more understanding of children. A Christmas, and any-time-of-year, classic.
Then there was a special announcement that God would be sending His Son to Earth, and every angel was instructed to come before the Throne of God to present a gift for the child. The Littlest Angel had nothing but his box of treasures, which was his most valued possession. He bravely decided to offer it to the Lord, but he was discouraged when he saw all of the fine gifts given by the other angels. With the incredible gifts that the big angels had to offer, what would God's Son possibly want with his shabby box?
But the beautiful conclusion to this tale is a reminder that it is not the size or value of the gift that matters, but the love behind it. This heartwarming story not only helps convince children that they have something important to offer, it reminds adults to be more understanding of children. A Christmas, and any-time-of-year, classic.
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