Showing posts with label France. Show all posts
Showing posts with label France. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

The Bell Ringer Goes After Fallen Gargoyles in Quasimodo to the Rescue!

The Hunchback of Notre Dame is an odd movie because it seems to aim at two different audiences, never fully satisfying either. Most adults will probably find the antics with the talking gargoyles gratuitously goofy, while kids are likely to be frightened by a few sequences that are startlingly violent for a Disney movie. I’m not sure if Disney has released any tie-in materials that fully embrace the adult elements of the movie, but Quasimodo to the Rescue!, a part of Disney’s Wonderful World of Reading library, definitely emphasizes the more whimsical aspects of the story.

The only characters from the movie included in this book are Quasimodo, the hunchbacked man who lives in the bell tower of Notre Dame Cathedral; the beautiful gypsy Esmerelda and her pet goat Djali; and the gargoyles Victor, Hugo and Laverne. The beginning of the book establishes a sense of easy friendship between Quasimodo and Esmerelda, whose part in the story is actually pretty minor. It’s nice to think, though, that the two of them can still be good friends even though she is romantically involved with golden boy Phoebus, who doesn’t come into this story at all.

The main focus is on the gargoyles, who start off the story by grumbling about their circumstances. Stately Victor hates the racket of the bells, Hugo despises getting his wings wet when it rains and crotchety Laverne has had it up to here with pigeons perching on her. They’re not so sure that the bell tower life is all it’s cracked up to be. Then a mighty tumble sends them hurtling off the tower to land conveniently in a cart full of straw. Will they prefer their new life on the ground? Will Quasimodo be able to find his three closest friends again?

Victor, Hugo and Laverne are a curious trio because they seem to be mere products of Quasimodo’s imagination. No one else ever sees them move or hears them speak. Or is it a Toy Story situation, and Quasimodo just happens to have been granted a rare exemption to the Don’t Let People Know You’re Alive rule? I’ve never been sure, but I like to think of it as the latter, particularly in the context of this story, since Quasimodo is so bound and determined to rescue them. It’s one thing for him to go to a lot of trouble to retrieve them for his own sake, but if they truly exist independent of him, the action feels more heroic.

Although he still lives in the tower, Quasimodo is no longer a complete recluse. He doesn’t bother with a costume when he goes out in search of his friends, nor does he flinch when he comes into contact with others. He seems to have grown much more comfortable with human contact, and nobody seems to give him a hard time about his appearance. When one person is brusque with him, Quasimodo does not back down but instead devises a solution that will satisfy both him and the man who is irritated by his presence.

This is a thoroughly light-hearted tale that celebrates kindness to others, friends and strangers alike, and appreciation for one’s home despite its drawbacks. While none of the darker elements of the movie are hinted at here, it still feels true to the setting and characters, particularly the determined, sweet-natured protagonist. The simple writing – a couple of paragraphs on most pages – and vibrant pictures come together well to create a story that emphasizes the value of going the extra mile for the sake of friendship.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Anne of Green Gables: The Continuing Story Takes Anne in Desolate Directions

I've been on a bit of an Anne of Green Gables kick for the last couple of months, ever since I pulled out the first two Kevin Sullivan miniseries on a whim and watched them. We own the third, but it arrived completely mangled, and we never got around to going to our local PBS affiliate and requesting a new copy. So I decided to refresh my memory of the third installment courtesy of Netflix. I remembered Anne of Green Gables: The Continuing Story fairly well, but it had been nearly a decade since I'd watched it. I'm glad I saw it again, but I really don't think we're missing out on much by not owning it. This isn't a miniseries likely to get a lot of repeat viewings.

In reading up a bit on this production, which came out in 2000, I learned that Kevin Sullivan was in the midst of a dispute with the family of series author L. M. Montgomery. One might think that under such circumstances, he wouldn't make another movie with Anne as the subject, but he went ahead and did it, evidently free to use Montgomery's characters but not allowed to replicate any of her plots. Hence, making a faithful adaptation was impossible. Nonetheless, Sullivan and co-writer Laurie Pearson took enormous liberties with the story and characters, so that even fans of the miniseries who've never read the books might object to the drastic shift in tone.

The first two miniseries have their share of darkness, but for the most part they are fairly light and funny and thoroughly heartwarming and life-affirming. The Continuing Story, by contrast, is pretty dreary right from the get-go. Within minutes, Anne (Megan Follows), who has been away on a teaching position with an orphanage, beholds Green Gables and nearly gets into a fight with its cranky owner, who is content to let the house of Anne's happiest years fall into squalor. As usual, we see far too little of Gilbert (Jonathan Crombie), and while he's clearly devoted to Anne, he spends most of the movie seeming exhausted and depressed. Similarly, Diana (Schuyler Grant), who has grown up into a proper lady rather like her mother, fears her marriage to Fred (Greg Spottiswood) is falling apart. He's surly all the time, right up until he sneaks off to join his comrades in World War I, leaving Gilbert to explain things to Diana - and to find his own sense of duty stirred.

Probably my favorite portion of the movie occurs when not-yet-married Anne and Gilbert are living in New York. Initially, I thought they were co-habitating, which seemed a little odd for early 20th-century devout Christians, but a throwaway line from Gilbert explains that they have separate apartments. Gilbert longs to make a difference as a doctor, while his superiors seem keen to limit his skills to healing the prestigious members of society. Anne gets an in with a publishing company and strikes up a friendship with suave Jack Garrison (Cameron Daddo), a bestselling adventure novelist, who insists that her work has potential and might actually reach a decent audience if his name were attached to it. There are hints of romance between these two from Jack's end, but Anne keeps very firm boundaries. It's nice to see her actively pursuing her writing dreams, which she abandons in the novels by the time she and Gilbert are married, and there's some humor and spunk in the way she deals with her curmudgeonly boss and his rather persnickety assistant.

In the books, by the time World War I hits, Anne and Gilbert are around 50 years old. But this movie takes place only five years after Anne and Gilbert's engagement, which puts them in their mid-20s. Montgomery does write in some detail about the war in Rilla of Ingleside, but it's from the home front perspective, and neither Anne nor Gilbert ever come anywhere near a combat situation. But here, Gilbert is guilted into signing on as a trauma surgeon, and Anne decides to spend the bulk of the war traipsing around Europe searching for him. So instead of idyllic Avonlea, we spend most of the movie in one war zone or another, as Anne absurdly searches for Gilbert, making a nuisance of herself as often as not. In the process, she manages to track down Fred and get tangled up with Jack again, which leads to a fulfilling writing job but also a dangerous mission. Moreover, despite her obsession with finding Gilbert, she grows somewhat uncomfortably close to both Fred and Jack during this time.

Anne of Green Gables and Anne of Avonlea are both family films, but I wouldn't say there's much here to hold the interest of children. There are basically no juvenile characters, with the exception of Jack's infant son, and the movie has a very adult, bleak tone. War is raging, so there is violence and peril as well as hints of marital discord and extramarital tomfoolery. Rarely do we get to see Anne's sparkling smile; Follows still plays Anne well, but this Anne spends so much of her time depressed, she's not a very uplifting character. All the old faces are fine for what they have to work with, but the writers have bathed everyone in disillusionment, making Anne feel like Ring-tormented Frodo, Avonlea like the polluted Shire. I suppose it's somewhat interesting to put Anne in such a different setting, but I don't think most Anne fans really want heart-racing adventure. They'd prefer the simple pleasures and mishaps Montgomery details in most of her books.

To that end, they may find themselves more drawn to the Special Feature, which is a rather extended promo for the episode of the television series Road to Avonlea in which Marilla dies and Green Gables falls into the hands of land-grubbing neighbor Mr. Harrison. I wish the whole episode had just been included; the clips are wonderful, quite touching and occasionally funny despite the dark circumstances. There's little humor to be found in The Continuing Story, whether it's Fred glowering at the world or Anne in hysterics as she asks every nurse in France if she's seen her husband. If you're a fan of Sullivan's previous Anne projects, you'll probably want to check this out, but don't expect the same level of satisfaction. You may also want to look into Montgomery's later books, especially Anne's House of Dreams, to see how Montgomery covered this period of Anne's life. For me, The Continuing Story is an interesting but dreary side trip, and I don't think I'll ever be able to think of it on the same level as Anne of Green Gables and Anne of Avonlea.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

My Top Ten Movies of the '50s

I watch a lot of movies, but my list of movies that came out before the '60s is fairly short.  One of these days I need to expand my familiarity with '50s cinema, but as of now, these are my ten favorites of the decade.

Harvey (1950) - I first heard of this movie because I was curious about the origin of the name of my aunt's cat, Chumley. She explained that he was a character from this film, and that she'd also had a cat named Elwood. That's the character Jimmy Stewart plays, a mild-mannered bachelor who scandalizes his socialite sister by hanging around in bars and consorting with a six-foot-tall rabbit no one else can see. Very funny and, in its way, extremely wise.

Hans Christian Andersen (1952) - We rented this when The Little Mermaid came out in theaters. I assume that this was to give my brother and me some background on the man who wrote this story that had so enchanted us. The story of the mermaid who longs to be human is only one of many Andersen tales referenced in this delightful musical biopic. Thumbellina and The Ugly Duckling are other standouts, all magnificently told by the vivacious Danny Kaye.

Lady and the Tramp (1955) -
One of Disney's most romantic movies, despite the fact that the main characters are dogs. More than just about any animated Disney film up to this point, there's ample time taken to develop their individual personalities and let their romance unfold gradually. A high-class dame and a scallywag make a go of it, once he's demonstrated that he's not such a scoundrel after all. That candlelit spaghetti dinner stands as one of the most romantic scenes in any film, animated or not.

Oklahoma! (1955) - I was in high school before I got into this one. I'd seen it once but hadn't been that impressed. Then I heard it was to be the spring musical my junior year. Soon I was well acquainted with it, and my classmates' production, particularly one friend's tour de force performance as overbearing Ado Annie, won me over to the musical completely. It's hardly my favorite Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, but it has some wonderful moments, including the auction and anything involving Ado Annie or Ali Hakim.

Carousel (1956) -
I didn't know a thing about this musical until I saw the play, starring my future acting teacher's wife, my freshman year of high school, at which point I became completely obsessed with it. Though the movie doesn't quite capture the play's magnificence, in part because of a strange framing device that takes away the element of surprise, it's one of Rodgers and Hammerstein's most thought-provoking efforts. The songs range from comical to inspiring, with You'll Never Walk Alone transcending the musical to attain its own iconic status.

The Court Jester (1956) -
Danny Kaye again, in one of his silliest and most entertaining roles. He was such a wonderful performer, and he pulls out everything in his arsenal here. A master of slapstick, he was ideally suited to play a jester, but it's the verbal acrobatics that really stick with me. "The vessel with the pestle holds the pellet with the poison. The flagon with the dragon holds the brew that is true." Try saying that ten times fast!

The King and I (1956) -
Yes, it was a good decade for Rodgers and Hammerstein. This, too, has a high school connection, as my acting teacher, his wife and their two children starred in a local production of it. But I'd loved the musical long before that and in particular the performance of Yul Brynner as the imperious king whose bark is generally worse than his bite. Though certain elements of this culture clash saga paint him in an antagonistic light, he is my favorite character, a man who, much like Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof, struggles to reconcile centuries of tradition with a world clearly changing around him.

The Red Balloon (1956) -
Short, sweet, sad. This nearly-wordless French film depicts one glorious day in which a boy befriends a balloon and roves through town with it, reveling in the spirit of adventure but never far from hostile forces. A gentle fantasy whose tragic elements cannot overpower its ability to uplift. "No one can be un-cheered by a balloon," postulates Pooh; this film may prove that he is correct.

Old Yeller (1957) -
Now, if you really want depressing, this is the movie for you. Most of its cast would go on to star in Swiss Family Robinson, which features several exotic creatures, none of which end up with rabies. It's a fate not to be wished on any dog, especially one so faithful as Yeller. This classic with the deceptively cheerful theme song is the quintessential Boy Meets Pet-Boy and Pet Have Adventures-Boy Kills Pet tale, so if you like weepy animal stories, you can't consider your repertoire complete until you've seen it.

The Shaggy Dog (1959) -
If you'd rather have the animals without the tragedy, Disney proves itself equally adept with live-action comedy. Tommy Kirk from Old Yeller returns for this goofy tale of a teen with the unhappy habit of transforming into an enormous English Sheepdog. There's a reason for this, of course, and the aim is to ultimately get his normal life back. It all ends very happily - but not happily enough to prevent a couple of equally silly sequels.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Liam Neeson Makes Taken an Adrenaline Rush With Heart

Last night, my friend Libbie treated her dad, her grandpa and me to the movies. She'd won four free movie tickets, and they expired at the end of January, so it was discouraging to discover that our chosen flick, Slumdog Millionaire, was sold out. We did not submit to despair, however. No, we opted for another movie, the previews for which had intrigued her dad. I knew nothing about Taken except that it involved some sort of abduction, but with a PG-13 rating, I figured it wouldn't be anything too intense for me to handle.

Pierre Morel's Taken is, as Libbie told me, "a guy movie." It's an adrenaline-pumping adventure all about one very driven man blasting bad guys in a desperate search for his daughter. That man is former spy Bryan Mills, portrayed by the always excellent Liam Neeson. Now he has retired in order to be closer to his 17-year-old daughter Kim, LOST's Maggie Grace, who lives with her aristocratic mother Lenore (Famke Janssen), whose new husband is fabulously wealthy. Now that she has the means to pamper Kim properly, Lenore rubs it in Bryan's face, but she needs his consent to send their daughter on a summer trip to Paris.

Bryan relents, but all too soon his worst fears about allowing two teenage girls to go to Europe on their own are realized when Kim witnesses the abduction of her friend while talking to him on the phone. He knows she's next; from this distance, he's powerless to protect her, but he vows to track her down and release her from her captors. He has occasional help in his quest; his longtime buddy and former colleague Sam (Leland Orser) provides valuable information on how to get started, and once he arrives in Paris he makes use of contacts there. But mostly he's on his own, relentlessly pursuing anyone involved in the trafficking of teenage girls as prostitutes.

The subject matter is gritty, and there are some disturbing scenes that show girls much like Kim in this disturbing and seemingly hopeless situation. Mostly, though, there's a lot of violence. I didn't keep a body count, but it probably numbered at least 20, with Bryan doing most of the maiming, whether with a gun, a blunt object or some formidable martial arts moves. With one notable exception, he tries to restrict himself to inflicting (sometimes fatal) injury only upon scumbags, but his ruthless streak leads to some squirmy scenes. I'm reminded of LOST's Michael, who witnesses his son's abduction and must come to terms with just how far he is willing to go to retrieve him. Neeson is flinty in this role, seemingly remorseless about the mess he makes en route to his daughter.

While I didn't care for the barrage of violence, especially at times when it seemed avoidable, I found it difficult to fault Bryan very much for his methods when so much is at stake. The strength of his devotion to his daughter is this character's most prominent trait, which makes him quite sympathetic, particularly in scenes that allow him to bestow fatherly care upon other young women in distress. Grace is in the film relatively little, but I enjoyed her rapport with Neeson and found her, on the whole, more likable than the preening Shannon Rutherford, the character with whom I associate her. She stretches believability by playing a character nearly a decade younger than her but brings a giddy girlishness to the role that makes it work.

The movie leaves some questions unanswered, concerning itself little with the wider consequences of Bryan's mad run through Paris. Does he bring about liberation for the victims he discovers en route to Kim? Are there any legal repercussions for all the crimes he committed? By that same token, there are contrivances in the plot, particularly in the beginning. But if you want edge-of-your seat action, Taken delivers, and with enough heart to satisfy a softie like me.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Ian Holm Puts on Napoleon's Garb in The Emperor's New Clothes

In 2002, I rang in the new year by seeing some of my favorite literary characters come to life on the big screen with The Fellowship of the Ring. Along with a thrilling movie experience, I gained a hefty list of actors, most of whom I'd never heard of before, to watch out for. Lord of the Rings cast members helped lead me to Pirates of the Caribbean, 13 Going on 30, On a Clear Day and, most notably, LOST. This week, I watched a film I'd selected mostly because it stars Ian Holm, who played my beloved Bilbo Baggins.

The Emperor's New Clothes has nothing to do with a man strutting around naked, though it does involve an adjustment of the titular character's pride. Still, more than that famous fable, this tale echoes The Prince and the Pauper as a ruler in exile switches places with a tipsy commoner as part of a plan to restore himself to power. This is no generic king. Alan Taylor's light-hearted slice of historical fiction re-imagines the traditional account of Napoleon's death, claiming it as inaccurate. The tale unfolds in a reasonably believable fashion, to the point that it's easy to forget that there is no factual basis to it.

If I weren't so fond of Holm just the way he is, I might be inclined to complain that perhaps the most iconic Frenchman of them all has an English accent. For the sake of my appreciative ears, however, I'll forgive it. I'm glad I had Holm as an anchor through this film because I was completely unfamiliar with every other actor involved, including Iben Hjejle, who plays Pumpkin, the melon-selling widow to whom Napoleon develops a romantic attachment. He does a marvelous job, clearly differentiating the two characters he plays and carrying himself with dignity as the emperor even though he's almost as short as Bilbo and many people he meets tower over him.

I was a tad surprised at how heavily the film leaned on Napoleon's side of the story, since generally in tales of this nature it seems the parallel stories are given somewhat equal attention. It soon becomes clear that the experience of Eugene Lenormand, the commoner who impersonates Napoleon, is of little consequence, aside from how it will affect the emperor. Still, I love the scenes with Eugene because they are among the funniest in the movie.

Napoleon has some comical bits too, particularly when he uses his tactical expertise to come up with a new business strategy for Pumpkin, but primarily his role is one of awakening. He gradually loses much of his arrogance and comes to discover that some things are more important than power, a realization that is soon tested...

The Emperor's New Clothes is an interesting movie with a charming streak of romance and idealism. Though it's classified as a comedy, I wouldn't really identify it as such; the wit is spread about sparingly so that there are some stretches of film that seem to stretch out excessively. Overall, though, this is a sweet and lovely movie. Especially if you like Ian Holm.

Friday, January 14, 2000

Ooh la la!

For anyone who has read the Madeline books and enjoyed them, this show is terrific. Each episode has the same feel to it as the books did, and the simpler animation style only adds to the beauty of the stories. Madeline is a free thinker. She always has a slightly different way of seeing things than the other eleven little girls who live with her under the watchful eye of Miss Clavel.

Each of the adventures that the girls get into is an enlightening experience for children watching the show. They are exposed to all sorts of different places from zoos to dude ranches, and they share in the wonder of the little girls as they experience each for the first time. Most of the show is set against a Parisian background, and children inadvertently learn a bit about French landmarks and history and pick up a smattering of French vocabulary.

The show is geared towards girls, as evidenced by the fact the the fourteen main characters (Miss Clavel, her twelve students, and Genevieve the dog) are female. But there are some male characters as well, and the exploits of the girls are interesting enough to hold a boy's attention for at least a few minutes. It's a simple mix of culture and adventure that makes it a great show for all concerned.