Celebrate Halloween and Christmas With Ichabod and Mr. Toad

The Wind in the Willows and The Legend of Sleepy Hollow are two classic pieces of literature, but I wouldn’t have thought to put them together. Disney did, though, and the result was the 1949 package film The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad. It’s unusual in that it tells just two stories; the package films typically include several different segments, each of which is shorter than either tale told here. What it amounts to is about half an hour per story, so there’s room for some decent development even though neither one is individually of feature length.

The main thematic tie between the stories seems to be that they are literary classics, one from England, one from America. Other similarities can be found; for instance, both integrally involve a holiday and a horse-drawn cart. Mostly, though, the tie between the two is that these are books that could be sitting on the shelf next to each other. Basil Rathbone is the sophisticated narrator of the first part of the film, which focuses on the reckless Mr. Toad, and his warm voice is perfectly suited to the task. Bing Crosby feels like less of a natural narrator for the second half, which deals with Ichabod Crane, but the role allows him to do some singing, which is the task at which he really shines.

I prefer the first tale, which is much livelier, in part because each of the characters is played by a different actor and there is quite a bit of dialogue. Toads seem to be inherently troublesome creatures, more so than frogs, which have a bit of a reputation in fiction for steady dependability. After all, look at Kermit the Frog (at least, when he’s not blowing a gasket). The contrast is strongest in Arnold Lobel’s Frog and Toad series, and silly, sulky Toad with his peculiar whims would certainly have a kindred spirit in Mr. Toad. They’re not bad fellows, but trouble seems to follow them, and sometimes they bring it upon themselves.

The story of Mr. Toad is set in the idyllic English countryside, where the eccentric millionaire is constantly wreaking havoc with his dangerous obsessions. It’s up to his faithful, long-suffering friends to keep him out of trouble and to try to prove his innocence after he runs afoul of the law. Toad is rather obnoxious but lovable nonetheless. Severe Angus MacBadger (Campbell Scott), who oversees his affairs, is a fun character, particularly because of his pronounced Scottishness, but he is less prominent than the even-keeled Rat (Claud Allister) or my favorite character, mild-mannered Mole (Colin Campbell). Other characters, including Mr. Toad’s horse and a freakish-looking villain named Mr. Winky, come into the picture, but this is the core quartet. It’s a raucous romp and a touching story of friendship set partially against the beauty of a pristine English Christmas, and it’s quite satisfying.

I’m not quite as fond of Ichabod’s story, partly because it’s just plain creepy. It makes me chuckle that in a film that includes a Christmas story, Crosby, who is so associated with the upcoming holiday, narrates the tale set at Halloween. It also strikes me as funny that the Christmas story comes first. The animation of a fiery New England autumn is quite appealing, but the human characters aren’t quite as enjoyable to look at as the animals in the first story. Ichabod in particular is a bit goofy-looking, though this would not necessarily be a drawback if he were a more likable character. Unfortunately, this gangly schoolteacher is a lazy womanizing glutton who can’t wait to hitch his wagon to the richest girl in town so he can live like a king for the rest of his days. Hence, although he’s the protagonist, he doesn’t exactly inspire a great deal of affection from me. It doesn’t help that there’s so little actual dialogue in this story, and what’s there is mostly voiced by Crosby. This makes the characters in this segment feel much more distant, leading to a definite sense of detachment.

The meat of the story is the rivalry between Ichabod and burly Brom Bones, who both want the pretty heiress Katrina Van Tassel for a wife, though love doesn’t seem to be a factor for either of them. They both appear to see her as more of a prize than a person. Brom reminds me a lot of Gaston from Disney’s much later Beauty and the Beast except that he is not quite so immensely popular. Still, he makes a potent adversary, and his dramatic ghost story is enough to give Ichabod a major case of the heebie-jeebies. Me too. The headless horseman scene that follows is truly terrifying, no matter what your interpretation of the incident is.

I’m not sure that this is the most natural pair of stories to put together, but it works well enough, and each is memorable in its own way. While I personally don’t want anything to do with Sleepy Hollow except around Halloween, I’m happy to pay a visit to Mr. Toad any time of year.

Pooh and His Pals Become Cowboys, Pirates and Old-Fashioned Superheroes

Winnie the Pooh and his Hundred-Acre friends generally live very simple lives and go about in the same clothes (or, in most cases, lack thereof) day after day. However, one fun thing about the television series The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh is its expansive imaginative scope. Some episodes allow these plush pals to venture into more unconventional territory. In Cowboy Pooh, part of the Playtime series of Winnie the Pooh videos, we see three episodes along these lines, each spoofing a specific genre.

The Good, the Bad and the Tigger - This Western spoof, also included in the video Growing Up With Winnie the Pooh: It's Playtime With Pooh, finds Pooh (Jim Cummings), Piglet (John Fiedler), Rabbit (Ken Sansom) and Tigger (Paul Winchell) in Christopher Robin's (Tim Hoskins) bedroom admiring his elaborate train set. When his mother calls him away, he warns everyone not to play with the train while he's gone, but Tigger can't resist, sparking a lengthy imaginative sequence set in the Old West. Tigger is a train robber, Pooh is his unwitting accomplice, Piglet is the sheriff determined to mete out justice however difficult that may be, Rabbit and Eeyore are his faithful sidekicks and Gopher (Michael Gough) is the grim judge eager to hand down a sentence for a "swinging."

This episode is a lot of fun because of the way it uses Western conventions, from dastardly villains to dusty, half-deserted towns. The score seems Copeland-inspired, and the chase sequences along the rickety railroad tracks prickle with excitement. Lots of fun, too, are the outfits, complete with ten-gallon hats (and one sombrero). Of course, this being Pooh, the story ends gently for all concerned, but some pretty harrowing situations precede the satisfying resolution that includes a lesson in forgiveness and fessing up to wrongdoing.

Pooh Marks the Spot - I wish I'd watched this video a little sooner; I could have included its infectious pirate ditty in my list of nautical songs for Talk Like a Pirate Day in September. "Yo ho, everyone knows a pirate's life is free. Yo ho, wherever we go, pirates is what we'll be!" Catchy. The pirates in question are Captain Piglet, Tigger, Pooh and Gopher, who roam the Hundred-Acre Wood in a magnificent pirate ship on wheels. I don't know who is responsible for the construction of that contraption - though I suspect a collaboration between handyman Gopher and creative Tigger - but I wish I had one. And someplace where I could ramble around in it, of course.

Rabbit does not think so highly of their pirate activities, especially once they start digging up his garden in search of buried treasure, so he concocts a plan to trick them and hopefully curtail their revelry. However, when a trippy dream sequence leaves him with a boatload of guilt, Rabbit wonders if he went too far. Aside from the brief dream, which is frankly pretty creepy, this does not take place in a fantastical setting, but there are pirate costumes aplenty as well as that remarkable ship. The conclusion includes a cute twist that emphasizes the kindness and creativity of these forest friends.

The Masked Offender - I'm pretty sure that I've seen this before, but as Tigger's secret identity, the Masked Offender, is all I remember, I wonder if I encountered it in another episode or perhaps a book. The rest of the story doesn't seem very familiar. In any case, this is another entertaining tale that seems to draw from classic heroes like the Three Musketeers and Robin Hood. Part of the episode occurs within a storybook Christopher Robin is reading, and this is where we find the most elaborate costumes and props, but Tigger doesn't do too badly in coming up with an outfit for himself after the story inspires him to follow suit.

There's humor in Tigger's choice of name, unintentionally changing "Defender" to "Offender," since all of his attempts to "rescue" others only serve to irritate them. Poor Piglet, roped into being his sidekick, doesn't know how to tell Tigger his heroics are not welcome. This is another episode that includes a mean-spirited practical joke orchestrated by Rabbit, but in this case, he doesn't work alone. Owl (Hal Smith) is particularly anxious to put a stop to Tigger's stunts. However, when a true emergency beckons, will a chastened Tigger step up to the plate to finally be a true hero? The storybook portions of this episode are great fun, but it's the intense action sequence involving one of those impossibly steep Hundred-Acre Wood canyons that really makes this episode.

Disney has released Winnie the Pooh Halloween specials before. Cowboy Pooh includes none of those, but the three episodes, taken together, feel Halloweenish because most of the characters spend the majority of their time in costume. Thus, this is a particularly good video for October, but any time of year, it may just inspire a creative playtime costume or two.

The Muppets Get Spooky in the Comic Collection Muppet Mash

The Muppets seem to be everywhere these days, and one enjoyable form in which they have surfaced is the comic book. Roger Langridge has crafted several books in The Muppet Show Comic Book series, one of which is the Halloween-themed Muppet Mash. Each of the four sections is meant to be an episode of the show, and each focuses on a particular type of monster, making this a silly, spooky collection fitting for this time of year.

In Chickens of the Night, Gonzo begins displaying some very strange behavior after his trip to Transylvania. While weirdness is Gonzo’s trademark, his new choice of attire and his secretive habits begin to make his friends suspect that he has returned a vampire. Are they jumping to conclusions, or does this mark a dramatic change for Gonzo? While the main story is fun, my favorite part of this segment is Casey Was a Bat, a parody of the beloved baseball poem Casey at the Bat.

That’s a Wrap introduces a woman with an Egyptian vaudeville act. Statler and Waldorf both fall for her immediately, as she reminds them so forcefully of a performer they saw in their youth. Could she actually be that same Cleopatra wannabe? This one is a lot of fun because it’s so odd to see the crusty curmudgeons attempting to be romantic, all the while undermining each other’s efforts in that department. I also enjoyed all the Egyptian puns, many of which I only got because of the crash course in Egyptology that accompanied my LOST immersion last year.

Monster Munch finds the members of the Electric Mayhem ecstatic that the legendary blues musician Howlin’ Jack Talbot will be sitting in with them for this episode. Their enthusiasm soon fades, however, when he is unable to get through a song. Similar in some ways to the first story, it revolves around the growing suspicions that this musical hero may, in fact, be a werewolf. Will the band ever manage to complete a performance with their special guest?

Finally, The Curse of Beaker is a Frankenstein-like story in which Bunsen, never particularly concerned about the welfare of his lab assistant, orders him to place his brain inside a gigantic robot he has constructed. Beaker concocts a clever way to subvert this unpleasant plan, but will the results lead to disaster? This story integrally involves a small creature called a poob, which I don’t ever recall encountering before this book. Were these cheerful furry creatures a part of the Muppetverse all along, or did Langridge invent them? This is a fun showcase for Beaker, and it also affords the entertaining opportunity of seeing the ominous-looking Sweetums in a dress.

Each story contains a hefty dose of Muppet mayhem, and as a result, it all feels a bit chaotic. There’s an ongoing story in each, but we also get regular Muppet Show segments like Veterinarian’s Hospital and the cooking corner with the Swedish Chef. It’s a little odd to see the Muppets in this flat format, but they are just as dynamic as ever, and their expressions are wonderful. Some of them look closer to their proper versions than others, but all of them are easily identifiable. Of course, you’re not getting any audio cues, and that is particularly noticeable during the many musical numbers, but the songs included here are a lot of fun anyway.

Only one of these stories takes place on Halloween, but the creepy holiday is obviously the prevailing theme. This gives the story added seasonal appeal in the fall, but it would be just as entertaining at any other time. Muppet Mash uses horror staples but transforms them into something goofy, much like the Riddikulus charm in Harry Potter. If you have trouble laughing in the face of fear, see if these Muppets might be able to help you out.

A Disney Double Feature Offers Mild Halloween Entertainment

When I went looking for a mild Halloween movie to watch in October, my Netflix browsing led me to Halloweentown / Halloweentown II, a Disney double feature. Because of the seasonal demand, it didn’t reach me until well after Halloween, but it made a fun little P.S. on the holiday for me. While the movie is definitely geared toward the tween crowd, it is fairly entertaining.

Both movies share the same primary cast. Kimberly J. Brown stars as Marnie, a girl who, in the first movie, is in the throes of adolescent angst, brought on by the fact that her mother Gwen (Judith Hoag) will not allow her to participate in Halloween activities. It turns out that this is because her widowed mother comes from a long line of witches and doesn’t want Marnie or her siblings, nerdy Dylan (Joey Zimmerman) and innocent Sophie (Emily Roeske), to know about their family heritage.

Debbie Reynolds is the strongest member of the cast as Gwen’s eccentric mother Aggie, who is distressed that her grandchildren may miss their opportunity to immerse themselves in the world that is their birthright. She comes across as zany but classy and is the only actor who doesn’t seem really over-the-top. Well, in the first movie, Roeske is so little that she comes across naturally, but by the second movie her performance is as exaggerated as Brown’s, who seems to spend most of her time on screen smirking or grimacing.

In the first movie, Marnie and her siblings stow away on the magical flying bus that serves as the transport between their world and the enchanted realm their grandmother inhabits. Once there, they must undo a curse that is immobilizing Halloweentown’s residents, most of whom look like exaggerated versions of Halloween costumes. The town is filled with goblins and pumpkin-head and skeletons, but none of them look truly threatening, and the town itself has a very appealing autumnal feel to it.

The second movie takes place a year later and treads similar territory, with the son of the first antagonist returning to avenge his thwarted father. Once again, there is a tug-of-war between Gwen and her mother concerning the upbringing of the children. The sequel came out three years later, and Sophie and Dylan seem to have aged much more than a year, but Brown is old enough that the difference doesn’t seem too dramatic.

Luke (Phillip Van Dyke), a potential love interest for Marnie, returns, and while I want to like the kid, Van Dyke’s performance is so flat I half-forget he’s there. Then again, blandness is a curse affecting Halloweentown in the sequel. The town is turning gray, and its residents are losing their monstrous qualities and their zest for life. Still, Luke seems bland even when he isn’t supposed to be.

However, I love Blu Mankuma in the role of Gort, an ornery pack rat who delights in collecting as much rubbish as he possibly can and keeping it in as untidy a manner as possible. In his normal state, he is snarly and anti-social, while under the curse he is placid and glassy-eyed, with a vague smile on his face and a pleasure in sock-matching that knows no bounds. I actually find this boring version of him even funnier, but in both cases, he entertained me more than any other character in the movie.

These are short movies, and they are so closely related to each other that it makes sense for them to be packaged together. As with most of the TV movies Disney has produced in the past decade or so, I think core audience is fairly limited; most folks over the age of 14 or so will probably find them a bit too goofy to really get into. Still, Halloweentown is very visually creative, and the emphasis on family togetherness is certainly worthwhile, so those looking for a family-friendly flick for late October could do worse than this double feature.

Halloween Gets a Fairy Tale Twist in Scared Shrekless

Last month saw the release of Puss In Boots, a spin-off of DreamWorks' four-movie Shrek franchise. While I have yet to see it, I did watch a new-to-me Shrek special, Shared Shrekless, on Halloween.

Shrek has proven fertile ground for featurettes of this nature. It's fun to see familiar characters in a specific seasonal situation, and in this case, the characters are doubly familiar since they are largely the classic inhabitants of fairy tales who have been twisted slightly to appear in their current form. The Shrek Halloween special is very much along the same lines as the Christmas special Shrek the Halls, with a gaggle of woodlanders interrupting Shrek's celebration for a night of storytelling.

While gruff green Scottish ogre Shrek (Mike Myers) is overwhelmed and ornery in the Christmas special, here he is more in his element and happy to challenge his friends to a spooky story scare-off in the now-abandoned Duloc castle. Because of the brief time allotted for the special, we don't have time for very many stories, but each of the stories we do hear has a distinct tone.

Shrek's story, a spoof of The Exorcist starring a demented Pinocchio (Cody Cameron), is creepy but perhaps the least memorable. The funniest is the Psycho-flavored one told by Donkey (Dean Edwards) and Puss in Boots (Antonio Banderas), who spend the whole time one-upping each other as they try to make each other's fictional selves endure ever more humiliating horrors.

However, the clear standout - for me, anyway - is the blood-curdling tale told by Gingy (Conrad Vernon), just as it was in the Christmas special. Both stories involve a ladylove; in the first, she is undone by an unlikely villain, but here, the romantic interest is also the antagonist, a freakish Frankencookie whose excess of sugar in the production process has rendered her a smothering nightmare of a girlfriend. Kristin Schaal, who I know best as mildly psychotic uber-fan Mel on Flight of the Conchords, seems a perfect choice to convey that sugary-sweet stalker vibe.

I found the animation to be excellent, with all of the fairy tale characters and locations getting an ominous edge. The eerie trees bending to the force of a late-night wind and the cobwebbed ruins of Lord Farquaad's domain are particularly unsettling, and the new animatronic Welcome to Duloc display is frankly terrifying. Most of the original voice cast returns here, with the main exception being Eddie Murphy, but I didn't notice a difference in the voices as I was watching, and Donkey is my favorite character, so I'd say Edwards is an outstanding replacement.

In addition to the main special, which runs just over 20 minutes long, the DVD includes the five-minute-long Thriller Night, which is a spoof of Michael Jackson's Thriller video. It's fun to see so many Shrek characters, starting with those who met their demise in the movies, mimicking those iconic dance moves, but my favorite part of this short is the beginning, which finds a very disgruntled Shrek emerging from a theater playing a movie clearly modeled after The Sound of Music. I especially love Donkey's enthusiasm for yodeling puppets.

I'm one of those folks who scares easily, so while I enjoy getting into the fun of Halloween with some timely movies and specials, I prefer those that are geared at a family audience. Scared Shrekless fits the bill perfectly, and the grumpy ogre seems a better fit for Halloween than Christmas. Hence, while the special isn't exactly up there with It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown for me, it's one I would be happy to give a repeat viewing in Halloweens to come.

A Ghost Is on the Loose at the Plaza Hotel in Eloise's Rawther Unusual Halloween

The Plaza Hotel is the stately building at the heart of the Eloise series of picture books and the movies and specials that have followed from them. It’s an elegant structure whose abundance of rooms and passages would make it a potentially very spooky location on Halloween. The animated special Eloise’s Rawther Unusual Halloween turns the Plaza into a genuine haunted house for the occasion.

Eloise (Mary Matilyn Mouser) is the energetic six-year-old who lives with her nanny (Lynn Redgrave) at the hotel. She pretty much has free run of the place, though she irritates certain guests and staff, particularly the persnickety Mr. Salamone (Tim Curry), whose job it is to make sure everything at the hotel operates smoothly. In this 45-minute-long tale directed by Wesley Archer, he is especially stressed out because the man who intends to buy the Plaza Hotel is staying for a couple of days. Naturally, he meets Eloise almost immediately, and they don’t exactly hit it off. Could this one little girl ruin his plans for the hotel?

Eloise, meanwhile, has other things on her mind. Ever since her nanny told her a creepy story about Diamond Jim Johnson (Brad Garrett), the prominent citizen who died en route to the Plaza Hotel’s grand opening and who allegedly returns each year “with a hunger that can never be satisfied,” the little girl has been obsessed. At first the story startles her. Then, after she is sure that she sees Diamond Jim for herself, fear gives way to indignation. No one believes her, and when strange things begin to happen in the hotel, they blame her. Will tracking down this ghost and giving him a piece of her mind put an end to all the shenanigans?

Mouser does a fine job of capturing Eloise’s boundless energy, and Redgrave brings just the right mix of warmth and easy-going authority to the one person who can keep a rein on Eloise’s mania. Curry, who played a similar live-action role in Home Alone 2, is excellent as always, and Garrett, who never fails to crack me up on Everybody Loves Raymond, sounds robust with a splash of melancholy as the ghost whose presence stirs up all the trouble. The rest of the voice work is great as well, but these four are the stand-outs.

The animation is modeled after the illustrations by Hilary Knight. I love the stylized credits, but the rest of the movie is great as well. There’s a certain simplicity to the animation style that fits the movie’s picture book heritage. The depiction of the ghost, with his bluish-black tint and translucent quality, is especially interesting. Aside from him, there’s a lot of pink in the color scheme, since that is Eloise’s favorite color. This special also involves two of her best friends, both of whom are very feminine, so I’m not sure this special would appeal to most boys very much, though they might well enjoy it if they gave it a chance. There’s certainly a lot of mild mayhem to keep the plot moving.

I’m always on the lookout for Halloween movies that are primarily cute rather than scary. Eloise’s Rawther Unusual Halloween, released just this year, definitely fits the bill as a short but sweet bit of ghostly fun.

This Little Piggy Conquers Fears Through Hospitality in John Pig's Halloween

In the classic Peanuts special It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, Linus Van Pelt skips trick-or-treating in favor of greeting the Great Pumpkin from the pumpkin patch, and Sally Brown gives it a pass because she wants to hang out with Linus. They’re both bowing out of Halloween fun for the sake of doing something that they feel will be more rewarding. In John Pig’s Halloween, written by Jan L. Waldron and illustrated by David McPhail, the title character does not have other plans. He is simply too frightened to go trick-or-treating.

This tall picture book is written in well-crafted verse. Each page features between two and eight lines following a simple AABB format. The rhythm is consistent if not perfect, and the wording is vivid without being overly complex. There are a few words that may be unfamiliar, but picture books are wonderful places for kids to bolster their vocabulary. One particularly promising verse reads, “One of the pigs wore a huge rubber nose, suspenders with knickers, and blue-checkered hose. A tiny, chic pig donned a towering chapeau, then finished things off with a tangerine bow.”

John appears to live in some sort of boarding house occupied solely by pigs. Based on the fact that they are trick-or-treating, I would presume them to be kids, though if that’s the case, there don’t seem to be any adults in the house. Additionally, John seems to be unusually handy in the kitchen for a youngster. It is not entirely clear what age these characters are supposed to be, but they feel youthful, at any rate.

The other pigs want to include John, but he is just too wimpy. He’s afraid of things that go bump in the night. Nonetheless, when a witch turns up at his house looking for tasty treats, kindness compels John to let her in. Perhaps he initially thinks her only another pig in costume, but it soon becomes apparent that she has magical powers. I’m reminded a bit of Bilbo Baggins, who welcomes Gandalf and extends his typical hospitality only to find his house filled with dwarves. John, instead, plays host to monsters and magical beings of all types. When they first arrive, his anxiety is apparent in his eyes, but as the night wears on, he begins to loosen up. Maybe these monsters aren’t so scary after all!

As I am a jittery sort myself, I can relate to John’s shyness and trepidation. While I have never been afraid to go out trick-or-treating, I understand how someone might be, and his nervousness at having all those odd creatures invade his home is entirely natural. Nonetheless, he not only muddles through, he actually enjoys himself. This, then, is a story about overcoming fear through compassionate impulses. The rhyme adds to the appealing storybook quality, and the illustrations are wonderful. I’ve enjoyed McPhail’s work since I was a toddler, and this 1998 book shows the same detail and artistry that I came to expect through books like Those Terrible Toy-Breakers.

This is the cutest Halloween picture book I have read in some time. Along with the quality illustrations and verse, it includes a worthwhile message about facing your fears, which security blanket-toting Linus would most likely appreciate. John Pig’s Halloween really is an occasion worth celebrating.

Robert Munsch Celebrates Halloween Looting in BOO!

Robert Munsch is best known as the author of Love You Forever, a tender, tear-jerking classic picture book, so I was a little surprised when I read BOO!, his Halloween book that is illustrated by Michael Martchenko. It is not a warm and fuzzy story. In fact, the main character might be aptly described as a hooligan.  Then again, since Munsch also wrote Angela's Airplane, about a kid who semi-accidentally steals and wrecks an airplane, I probably shouldn't be too taken aback.

Lance is the child at the heart of the story, and the book is also dedicated to someone by that name. I don’t know if this tale was inspired by his personality or actions or if Munsch just decided to name the character after him; I’m a bit curious about that. Lance is a clever dark-skinned kid who looks to be at least ten. He seems to enjoy a very close relationship with his parents, who encourage his creativity. Lance’s goal is to make himself very scary, and he won’t go out trick-or-treating until he succeeds in making his parents topple over in fear at the sight of him.

This book is greatly exaggerated. Lance looks totally normal except for the ghostly pillowcase over his head. When he pulls it up and says “BOO!” he reveals a heavily painted face, and allegedly it is so horrific that it is capable of terrifying any adult into submission. When we finally get the full force of it, it’s scary, but certainly not enough to elicit that kind of reaction. Still, Lance’s insistence on giving people a fright might be excusable – it is Halloween, after all – if it weren’t for the behavior that follows.

At each stop, he takes more and more liberties in collecting goodies after the greeter has passed out. It’s a good thing for him that he apparently only stops at homes currently occupied by one person. There’s nobody else there to stop him from making off with all the Halloween candy in the bowl or emptying the refrigerator of all its tasty treats. What’s more, he has an encounter with a cop, who doesn’t seem in the least troubled when he brags about his looting and simply is interested in proving that he is too tough to be scared by some cocky kid.

The illustrations are amusing, albeit overblown. The reactions we see from those who look at Lance are absurd. The tone is comical, so I don’t think there’s much danger of young readers being frightened by all the open-mouthed expressions of terror, but a couple could be a little startling. The writing is fine, with the repetition heightening the tension but ultimately making the story even more predictable. In the end, Lance is a smart, artistic kid, but if this is the way that he channels his talents, it looks to me like he is headed for trouble, especially if all the authority figures in his life keep indulging his selfish whims.

BOO! may be rather entertaining, but the title pretty much describes my reaction to it.

A Little Girl Celebrates an Old-Fashioned Hallowe'en With Her Grandparents in Pumpkin Moonshine

When I went to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter earlier this year, one of the beverages for sale was pumpkin juice. I didn’t try it, preferring to stick with butterbeer; frankly, drinking pumpkin sounded a bit gross to me. Nonetheless, it is probably the second-most famous drink in the Harry Potter universe. When I came across Tasha Tudor’s Pumpkin Moonshine, I thought the subject would be a similar drink, but with more of a kick. It seemed an odd subject for a picture book, but that just intrigued me all the more.

As I started to read, it further surprised me that the character intending to make Pumpkin Moonshine was a little girl visiting her grandparents. Was this really a story about a pint-sized moonshiner? What sort of drunken revelry would follow?

By the time I reached the end of the book, I realized that I had misunderstood. This is not a story involving potent potables. Instead, it is just about a child eager to make a jack-o-lantern. A quick Google search seems to indicate that this terminology is an invention of Tudor’s, or at least a very obscure name. Was she trying to celebrate an old family tradition or be provocative with her title? There’s certainly nothing else provocative about the book.

Tudor’s dedication reads “a wee story for a very sweet wee person.” This is a small square book with light orange trim forming a thick border around each page. Each page on the left features a watercolor painting rendered in muted tones, while the right-hand page includes a paragraph that begins with the first letter in orange and set apart, large and in an orange calligraphy box. The black ink sketches seen here are thoroughly charming. None of the pages is very wordy; three sentences are the most any one of them has, and in those cases, at least one of the sentences is fairly short.

The main character, Sylvie Ann, is a cute little girl who looks like a short-haired, bonneted Alice in Wonderland. She is visiting her grandparents in Connecticut; Tudor doesn’t tell us what year this is, but it seems pretty old-fashioned, and I would estimate the date to be at some point in the 1800s. At one point she says that Sylvie and the dog Wiggy “puff like steam engines.” The landscape is bucolic and unspoiled, with just a few hand-built structures dotting the farmland, and the spelling of the word Hallowe’en further suggests an older setting.

This is a charming little slice of life tale whose main event is the pumpkin Sylvie selects rolling down a hill. Various types of livestock scatter, and Mr. Hemmelskamp, an elderly neighbor who reminds me of the grandfather in Heidi, gets knocked for a loop. It’s mildly comical, but the writing style is pretty matter-of-fact. What’s more, after all the trouble she goes to so she can “make” her Pumpkin Moonshine, she only empties the pumpkin; her grandfather does the actual carving. Of course, that is probably for the best; small children and sharp knives don’t make a great combination.

This book was published in 1958 and feels older than that. Some children may find it too old-fashioned, but Pumpkin Moonshine offers an appealing peek at a Halloween celebration of yesteryear.

A Family Teams Up to Turn an Accident Into a Blessing in The Runaway Pumpkin

In Tasha Tudor’s 1958 book Pumpkin Moonshine, a young girl selects a pumpkin to carve into a jack-o-lantern and then chases it as it rolls down a hill, disrupting livestock and upsetting property until it comes to a rest and her grandparents help her do something fun with it. This is also the basic story in Kevin Lewis’s The Runaway Pumpkin, illustrated by S. D. Schindler.

I don’t suppose that Lewis was influenced by Tudor’s tale; after all, a pumpkin rolling down a hill is not a difficult image to come up with. Still, with the farmland, the grandparents and the mild destruction the pumpkin causes, there are definite similarities. However, this 2003 book has a more contemporary setting. Instead of one child, there are three, and all of them are in costume. Additionally, instead of prose, this story is told in verse.

As someone who has devoted a lot of time to trying to perfect my scansion, I can’t help noticing how little attention is paid to it in many children’s books. This one isn’t too bad; it’s a bit clunky in places, but for the most part, it reads pretty well. Lewis employs some useful repetition as he has each member of the family think of a different delicacy made by Granny when the pumpkin rolls by. This sets us up for the book’s cheerful conclusion. He also repeats a sonically satisfying series of adjectives describing the pumpkin as it rolls.

The sheer size of the pumpkin is likely to elicit giggles from young readers. The thing is really a monstrosity, though it is almost perfectly round. The way that Poppa stops the pumpkin in its tracks is quite clever. It would be nice if the kids were involved in the resolution of this problem, but the sense of the whole family pulling together is sweet. This is definitely a tale of family togetherness, and the costumes that each member of the family wears as they gather around the table for a cozy celebration add to the fun. I especially like the complicated insect costume that Grampa dons.

Schindler’s illustrations are in muted tones but are full of vivid detail. He provides a series of two-page spreads with the text printed over the paint in a playful font, and these paintings set us very firmly in autumn and also show how much trouble one pumpkin is capable of causing. I think my favorite illustration may be the one that shows Grampa on the ground, shaking his fist at the pumpkin that has just knocked him over, while white chickens scatter in a flurry of feathers.

The ordinary pumpkin in Pumpkin Moonshine stirs things up a bit, but this jumbo-sized would-be jack-o-lantern really makes a mess. This is a silly story with a warm thread of family giving it a heartening ending. Of the two, I think I give this one just a bit of an edge for both excitement and sentimentality. The pumpkin runs away, but great things happen when it stops.

Disney Princesses Celebrate Autumn in A Fairy-Tale Fall

Autumn is an exciting time of year, especially if you happen to live in a place with very distinct seasons. In Pennsylvania, it means thousands of leaves painting the countryside with crimson and gold before falling to the ground to crackle underfoot. It means bundling up in sweatshirts and jackets to enjoy the fall sunshine. It means fresh produce, horse-drawn hayrides and lots and lots of pumpkins for baking and carving. These aspects of the season all come into play in A Fairy-Tale Fall, a level two Step Into Reading book focusing on the Disney Princesses.

At the time this book was published in 2010, there were nine heroines with the official Disney Princess designation. Of these, Snow White, Belle, Aurora, Jasmine, Ariel, Tiana and Cinderella make an appearance, each being the focus of four pages – except Cinderella, whose section is slightly elongated to five. The only ones missing are Mulan and Pocahontas. While this book delves into many aspects of this time of year, it covers some of the same territory as Sweet and Spooky Halloween, another recently published Disney Princesses book. Several of the sections involve dressing up, carving jack-o-lanterns and distributing tasty treats.

The book, written by Apple Jordan and illustrated by Francesco Lagramandi, was designed for children ranging from about four to seven years old who need a little help reading. Like other books at this Step Into Reading level, it features simple stories and vocabulary and short sentences. Actually, “stories” is a bit of a stretch; it’s more a series of descriptions. Still, there is a story-ish quality to it, especially since we are seeing these familiar fairy tale characters in their very distinct settings. Not only do we get each of the seven princesses above, we also see many of the supporting characters from the movies in which they first appeared.

The Snow White pages depict a costume party at the dwarfs’ cottage attended by Snow White, her prince and all seven dwarfs. The costumes on the dwarfs are very cute and fitting for their personalities. For instance, ornery Grumpy is a growling bear, while shy Bashful is a ghost, entirely covered by a white sheet with holes for eyes. My favorite costume is Sleepy’s, as he dresses as a donkey who looks very much like gloomy gray Eeyore. While no other section features such elaborate costumes, the merfolk and their friends hold a grand masquerade, and so does Cinderella after making adorable costumes for Jaq, Gus and the other mice.

Aurora – here referred to as Sleeping Beauty – basks in the beauty of the autumnal woodland and shares a feast with her forest friends. Jasmine and Aladdin give goodies away to the children of Agrabah, and Belle bakes pumpkin pie for the Beast and his enchanted staff. Meanwhile, Tiana and Naveen ride a festive float through a parade. Some of the celebrations are more lavish than others, but all look like a lot of fun.

The book’s illustrations are excellent and full of color and detail, with all but a couple of them being two-page spreads. I love the ones that feature several different characters at once, whether animals or humans; there’s so much to look at on these pages that it’s well worth lingering a moment or two beyond what it will take to read. Most pages have one or two sentences, though there is the occasional three-sentence page. These are all quite short, however, and Jordan uses plenty of repetition to make things easier for unsteady readers.

Although this book was created by a different writer-artist team than Sweet and Spooky Halloween, the similarities between the two are sometimes striking. The most obvious shared image is Cinderella and the prince riding off in a pumpkin-shaped carriage, with the scenes of the Atlantica masquerade also suggesting that they might have been going for some consistency between the two books. Another similarity is that Ariel and Belle are not yet married, while it would appear that the other princesses are, though it’s not entirely clear with Jasmine and Aurora, whose appellation of Sleeping Beauty adds to the ambiguity.

These two books would make good companions for each other, but if you’re only going to get one, I’d go with this, as there are more princesses and more fall activities in the mix. The distribution of princesses is also almost perfectly balanced, unlike in Sweet and Spooky Halloween, and giving each princess her own space makes it feel more organized. A great little book for young Disney Princess enthusiasts, A Fairy-Tale Fall offers a chance to see terrific characters interact in a charming fall setting.

Cinderella Skeleton is a Tenderly Ghoulish Treat for the Goth Crowd

I’ve seen many different versions of the classic Cinderella story over the years. One of the most unusual is Cinderella Skeleton, a ghoulish take on the fairy tale that is written by Robert D. San Souci and illustrated by David Catrow, an exceptional artist whose work has wowed me in the Christmas books How Murray Saved Christmas, Merry Un-Christmas and Silly Dilly Christmas Songs: Where Did They Hide My Presents?.

As you might guess from the title, in this version, Cinderella is a skeleton, and so is almost every other character in the book. The look is quite comparable to The Nightmare Before Christmas and Corpse Bride; it’s macabre, yet there’s also a definite sweetness to it. Cinderella herself is just as kind and gentle as she is in any version I’ve encountered, and her stepfamily is just as cruel. The prince, meanwhile, is dashing as can be in a sharp blue uniform with gold epaulets that reminds me a lot of the Beast’s duds in the ballroom scene of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast.

The basic contours of the story really are pretty much the same. Cinderella is a poor overworked girl who lives with her frivolous, mean-spirited stepsisters and stepmother. There is no mention of her father, and really, considering the circumstances, that seems a bit odd; if they’re all dead, then shouldn’t her father be with them? But maybe in this version of the story her father died far from home. Or maybe he’s the only one still alive. In any case, though, Cinderella Skeleton is a dreamer, and she longs above all else to attend the Halloween Ball. She is more proactive than most in that instead of having a fairy godmother come to her in her hour of despair, Cinderella seeks out the aid of a wood witch. What’s more, she goes and collects the objects the old – but seemingly not deceased – woman recommends.

It is perhaps fitting that a Cinderella who takes such initiative should be given a longer visit with her prince. She is allowed to remain at the ball until morning – by the sky, not the clock. Thus, there is more time for the two bony lovebirds to make a real connection. In a rather unnecessarily grotesque move, the prince ends up with not just his ladylove’s shoe but her foot as well, but at least there’s no blood involved as he searches his unconventional kingdom, severed foot in tow.

Yeah, that part sounds a bit gross, and it is, but it’s very much in keeping with the overall style of the book, which has a definite beauty about it despite the icky images. Catrow’s artistry in watercolor and pencil is unmistakable, and Cinderella still manages to look beautiful in her delicate blue lace draped over her like gauzy spider webs. Her empty sockets somehow look as sparkly as they would with eyes in them. The magnificent castle, complete with ominous vulture gargoyles, nearly shimmers in the pinkish glow of a fading sunset as a moon of monstrous size rises.

Meanwhile, the narration is finely crafted and complex. Each of the 26 stanzas contains seven lines, the first of which is “Cinderella Skeleton,” sometimes followed by punctuation. The other six lines follow the pattern ABBCCA, and the rhythm is consistent with wiggle room of a syllable or two. It’s a rather unusual pattern, and because of the distance between the first main line and the last, one almost has the tendency to forget what word is being rhymed. This is a book best read slowly. It certainly was written that way, with San Souci clearly relishing the clever wordplay as he carefully crafted each image. The descriptions make me chuckle and wince all at once. Take, for instance, this declaration of love from the prince: “Your gleaming skull and burnished bones, your teeth like polished kidney stones, your dampish silks and dankish hair, there’s nothing like you anywhere!” Aww. How touching.

This book really is exquisite in its own way. However, I do question the age recommendation of 3 to 7. I think that some aspects of this book might well freak out a child that young. What’s more, the complicated and formal way in which is it written seems likely to me to bore many kids in the read-aloud set. Frankly, the group I see embracing this book most readily is the Hot Topic crowd. All those teens who happily scoop up Jack Skellington merchandise would probably find this picture book a delightful Halloween diversion. I wouldn’t put a lot of stock in the age printed on the back, but if you know a child entranced by gothic imagery and willing to sit through some fairly lengthy poetic narration, Cinderella Skeleton is a surprisingly sweet Halloween treat.

The Disney Princesses Have a Festive October in Sweet and Spooky Halloween

Every year when I see kids trick-or-treating through the neighborhood or the mall, I can count on spotting a few Disney princesses. Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast’s Belle are probably the most popular, but Snow White and Sleeping Beauty’s Aurora always make a good showing as well. These four princesses, along with The Little Mermaid’s Ariel, who requires a more complicated costume and thus is a bit less common, are the stars of Sweet and Spooky Halloween, a Disney picture book written by Melissa Lagonegro and illustrated by Elisa Marrucchi.

This is a book that doesn’t really tell a story. Instead, it hops around among the above five princesses, showing how each of them celebrates the holiday. Because of the fairy tale setting of these tales, I tend not to think of these characters celebrating Halloween, though many aspects of the holiday date back several centuries. Of course, the princesses here do things that modern children can relate to, but it is presented in such a way that it feels like it works with the setting.

Cinderella, who evidently still keeps her foot in the door at the cottage where she grew up, picks pumpkins from the garden and carves them into jack-o-lanterns. Later, in more elegant garb, she hands out goodies to the children of the kingdom. Snow White watches as the dwarfs bob for apples, and the fairies create dazzling Halloween costumes for Aurora with some help from their magic wands. Ariel and her best friend Flounder masquerade in homemade masks, and Belle reads the Beast spooky stories.

With five different scenarios to juggle, the book never lingers in one place for more than four pages. Sometimes we only get a page-long glimpse of one Halloween activity before moving on to another. It struck me as a bit odd that we get two pages of Snow White, then one of Ariel, which is immediately followed by Snow White again. The distribution of princesses is also uneven, particularly in the case of Cinderella, who is the focus on nine pages, and Aurora, who is limited to just one two-page spread.

It’s also a little strange to see Belle with the Beast here, since that means she is technically not a princess yet. Ariel is still a mermaid, but since she was an undersea princess before marrying a human prince, that doesn’t matter. The other three princesses clearly are returning to their earlier haunts after marriage, though Cinderella’s prince is the only one of the three to actually appear.

Because of the way the book’s text is written, transitioning naturally from one type of activity to the next, it makes sense to shuffle the princesses around. It also provides the illusion that there’s more to each princess tale than there actually is. If the book just had all of the pages for each princess together, making five “chapters,” I don’t think it would hang together very well. It would feel lacking. Additionally, with the “stories” spread out, it feels more natural for kids to fill in the blanks between events.

Sweet and Spooky Halloween is really just an excuse to put Halloweenish imagery into a Disney princess context. It’s short on actual story, but the vibrant illustrations, from the actual pumpkin carriage Cinderella and the prince ride in to bat-shaped cookies Belle makes for the Beast, are plausible and fun to peruse. Given all those little girls in princess dresses that I see every year, I would say that this book has a ready audience.

Trixie and Honey Get a Little Spooked in The Mystery of the Whispering Witch

When I think of mysteries involving haunted houses, the team of teen sleuths most likely to pop into my head is Scooby Doo and the human quartet accompanying him. However, Trixie Belden and her fellow Bob-Whites of the Glen are the ones on the creepy case in The Mystery of the Whispering Witch, the 32nd book in the series started by Julie Campbell and continued by several ghostwriters using the pen name Kathyrn Kenny.

This isn’t the first time that ghosts have been a part of the Trixie Belden series. Spirits allegedly roamed free in the Ozarks in the 11th Trixie adventure, and based on the titles of some of the Trixies I’ve temporarily skipped over, they seem to have made appearances in a few other books as well. In fact, recollections of some of these adventures surface here when the fear of supernatural entities becomes acute. However, this was the first book in the series that I have read in which the predominant focus is upon the possible existence of ghosts. Specifically, some worry that Sarah Sligo, an 18th-century woman burned alive inside her mansion by townspeople who branded her a witch, is haunting the house now that it is occupied by a single mother, Mrs. Franklin, and her daughter Fay.

The last several Trixie mysteries I’ve read have taken place in the summer, so it was a bit startling to crack this one open and find myself in late November. The setting is the week before Thanksgiving, which turns out to be a significant date in Sarah’s life. It also means that all but one of the Bob-White boys are involved in a school Thanksgiving play, though, to my disappointment, this doesn’t really come into the story. As is often the case with Thanksgiving tales, Christmas comes up, since Trixie’s younger brother Bobby goes to visit Santa Claus, prompting a discussion demonstrating that the Christmas Creep isn’t exactly new. Mostly, though, the book feels like a Halloween story, with all its talk of hauntings and possessions.

It’s the latter that makes the mystery especially ghoulish, as Fay, who is about the same age as Trixie and her best friend, Honey Wheeler, truly fears that Sarah is taking over her. There are moments when the story almost seems to veer into the territory of Poltergeist and The Exorcist. Even though I was pretty confident that it would all turn out to be smoke and mirrors and end with an unveiling of the “And I would’ve gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for those darn kids” variety, I found some of the scenes quite unsetting. In The Mystery at Bob-White Cave, I often got the feeling that locals attributed strange weather and other natural phenomena to ghosts, but in this case, it’s clear that some real malevolence is afoot, and it could have lasting psychological consequences. What’s not entirely plain is who is behind it.

The author does a good job of introducing several characters who could potentially be responsible for the enigmatic events at the house. I changed my mind a couple of times as I tried to figure out what was going on. I found Fay a mostly likable chum for the Bob-Whites, though she’s incredibly jumpy, and it almost seems to rub off on Honey. While she remains consistently kind throughout the book, her nerves often get the better of her and she isn’t much help in calming Fay down. It’s a little odd to see Trixie trying her best to be tactful for Fay’s sake while Honey keeps blurting out any dismaying thought that pops into her head.

While all of the Bob-Whites – including Trixie’s brothers Brian and Mart, Honey’s adopted brother Jim and their neighbors Dan and Di – appear in this book, Whispering Witch feels mostly like Trixie and Honey’s story, one that they must share with Fay as they try to relieve their new friend of her jitters – or determine whether her fears are even genuine. I enjoyed the camaraderie among the three girls, and I found it oddly appropriate that a week after my mom’s hip surgery, I happened to pick up a book in which one of the major characters winds up in the hospital with a broken hip. While a few scenes didn’t sit that well with me, this is still a mostly fun installment. You just might want to save it for Halloween.

Demonic Carnies Expose Desires and Fears in Something Wicked This Way Comes

In the days leading up to Halloween, I was in the mood to watch something a little spooky, but not so creepy that it would give me nightmares. I recalled having seen this movie years ago while babysitting, and I had a hunch that it would fit the bill perfectly, so I put it at the top of my Netflix queue. Something Wicked This Way Comes, the 1983 Disney movie that introduced me to Jason Robards, is set in a small New England town in the mid-1900s. The countryside is aflame with autumn leaves as the story begins, and cinematographer Stephen H. Burum is to be commended for so effectively capturing the beauty of that landscape. Before long, however, the visuals take a much darker turn...

Based on a story by Ray Bradbury, who also adapted it for the screen, Something Wicked This Way Comes is an eerie tale whose focus is the old adage, “Be careful what you wish for.” There are many stories in this vein; I found myself most reminded of Bill Brittain’s Newbery Honor-winning The Wish Giver, in which an insidious carnival owner offers three children a wish, only to grant each one in a cruelly twisted manner. I also thought of Stephen King’s Needful Things, in which a demonic entity in a gentlemanly guise uses his knowledge of townspeople’s deepest desires and fears to turn them against each other.

The main character is Will Halloway (Vidal Peterson), a scrawny, bespectacled boy who, along with his best buddy, Jim Nightshade (Shawn Carson), stumbles upon an ominous secret regarding the carnival that has just pulled in for the weekend. Arthur Hill narrates the movie as an adult Will, who speaks of his small-town childhood with affection. Robards plays Will’s aged father, who is feeling the pinch of mortality and is wracked with guilt because of an occasion several years ago upon which he was unable to rescue Will from a life-threatening situation. A librarian and scholar, Mr. Halloway is a potent ally to the boys once they realize that they have a demon on their tail, but his own insecurities threaten to incapacitate him.

This is a PG-rated Disney movie from the 1980s, so there’s nothing too terribly intense here. Nonetheless, I would definitely classify it as creepy. Most of the images that we see in association with the carnival itself are quite unnerving, from the delirious laughter of the robust local barber whose lust is satisfied by an eerie troupe of exotic dancers to the mysterious disappearance of a jittery lifelong lottery player overjoyed to finally win a significant monetary prize. One by one, the townspeople receive the fulfillment of their fondest wishes but then are forced to pay a steep penalty.

Jonathan Pryce is suavely malicious as the debonair Mr. Dark, whose seductive charms are matched by his even creepier female associate. His performance is the more compelling, however, as it is more deeply menacing and simultaneously charming. He looks a fair bit like Doc Terminus from Pete’s Dragon, with his snazzy suit and top hat and facial hair, but he has none of his bluster. No, this is a man who has the uncanny ability to gaze into someone’s soul and expose his most intimate thoughts, and Pryce is mesmerizing.

Of the boys, Peterson is the better actor by far, filling his role with sensitivity and courage. Carson, by contrast, gives a pretty flat performance. Meanwhile, Robards brings gravitas and compassion to his part, and of all the characters, Mr. Halloway undergoes the deepest psychological turmoil. While there are a few grotesque images in the movie - including a moment to rival the one in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets when it comes to terrifying arachnophobes - this inner turmoil is really what the movie is all about, and ultimately, though it prominently features two children and is pretty tame as thrillers go, I would classify it as more suited to adult viewers, who will better appreciate that profound connection between desire and fear.

Will’s story draws to a rather quiet and open-ended conclusion, leaving viewers to guess at the fates of several major characters. While I like the way the ending comes about, it feels a bit abrupt, and I would have preferred a better sense of the carnival’s lasting impact upon the town as a whole rather than just the narrator, his father and his best friend. Nonetheless, Something Wicked This Way Come is an intriguing film ideal for a scary-but-not-too-scary movie night.

Halloween TV Specials

A list of some great Halloween specials.

Around Epinions: "Run Away! Run Away!" The Runaway Mummy Caters to a Monster-Loving Crowd

While browsing through a volume I received for Christmas that lists hundreds of distinguished children’s books, I was startled to discover that, despite my familiarity with the cover page, I had never read Margaret Wise Brown’s The Runaway Bunny, or if I had, it was too long ago for me to remember it. I headed over to the online card catalog to put it on hold, and a list of search engine results included The Runaway Mummy: A Petrifying Parody. So while I put a copy of Brown’s classic on hold, I couldn’t resist requesting the spoof as well.

The Brown story involves a little rabbit announcing his intention to run away from home. As the youngster plots his shapeshifting escape, his devoted mother is right behind him every step of the way, matching him metaphor for metaphor. If he becomes a fish, she will become a fisherman; if he becomes a bird, she will become a welcoming tree. The cozy series of images is a wonderful affirmation of love that also encourages children to think creatively about the relationships between various objects.

The Runaway Mummy by Michael Rex follows the same premise, except that the main characters are mummies instead of bunnies, and all of the scenarios they dream up are rather ghoulish. Oh, and Mummy Mummy, being a bit overzealous in her protective instincts, has a habit of unintentionally injuring her child in the scenes they conjure up. In one two-page spread, she becomes a dragon who breathes a little too much fire on her little gargoyle to keep him warm. Later, as “a sky-high monster with razor-sharp claws,” she tickles her son, now a “humongous beast,” into submission. It reminds me of the spectacular wizards’ duel in Disney’s The Sword in the Stone. What a dizzying tennis match of transfiguration!

The colorful book follows a simple format. On the left page, Little Mummy explains his next move, while his mother explains hers on th right. Each page contains a couple of sentences and a large full-color illustration. This is followed by a two-page spread showing parent and child together in this fantasy realm. One fun thing about these pages is the fact that each new creature has clearly visible mummy wrap on it, though it sometimes takes a moment to discover just where. Some of it is very cleverly incorporated. Also very fun: the mother’s horrified reaction when her tied-up tyke decides that he will become a little boy, just as the little rabbit does in Runaway Bunny.

The book is full of fun little details. Most pages involve some degree of mayhem, banking on some children’s fondness for all things destructive, but the affection of the mother for her son mostly balances that out. We don’t see anybody actually injured throughout the book, though a few buildings take a tumble. Keep an eye out for Vincent Van Gogh’s Starry Night; I’m not sure what it’s doing here, but I enjoyed seeing an homage to one of my favorite paintings jump out at me unexpectedly. I also loved the sphinx in the shape of a bunny that appears on the back cover.

Runaway Mummy is the sort of book that is probably best suited to Halloween, though children who get a kick out of monsters are likely to enjoy it any time of year, making the tender mother-son lovefest accessible even to those who would rather see their rabbits attack than cuddle.

Star Trek: The Next Generation - Genesis Is Completely Ridiculous, In a Good Way

So I was sitting in the living room, too tired to do anything productive, too awake to call it a night, and after one flatulence joke too many from Craig Ferguson, I grabbed the remote, whereupon I was reminded of that glorious, albeit inconveniently late, time slot during which Star Trek: The Next Generation is on WGN. So I settled in for Genesis, an episode I’d never seen before. It features one of my favorite minor players, jittery Lieutenant Barclay (Dwight Schulz), and it starts off with the promising scene of Data (Brent Spiner) undergoing a consultation regarding his pregnant cat, Spot.

Some of my favorite moments in the series involve this cat, including Data’s reading of his own poetic composition, An Ode to Spot, and his range of emotions concerning her fate in Star Trek: Generations, so I figured her appearance was a good sign. And who can resist the promise of kittens? Unfortunately, while Spot does play a key role in the plot, we see very little of her, and even less of her and Data together - and in one of those scenes, her appearance is decidedly different. In high school, I witnessed the taping of a commercial spoofing The Wizard of Oz that co-starred an iguana as Toto. The fact that it made no sense whatsoever added to the humor. It’s supposed to make sense that fluffy Spot transforms into an iguana before the episode is out, but it never really does. This is one weird episode. But it’s very entertaining.

I was surprised to see that Genesis originally aired in March. It definitely struck me as a Halloween episode, sort of Treehouse of Horror TNG-style. Beware the Ides, and beware the episode’s premise if you want to avoid scratching your head in confusion or shaking it in exasperation. The whole thing plays out like a spoof of cheesy horror movies as various members of the crew begin demonstrating strange behavior before undergoing startling changes to their physiology.

Deanna Troi (Marina Sirtis) becomes unbearably chilly; Will Riker (Jonathan Frakes) can’t hold onto his train of thought; hypochondriac Barclay becomes hyperactive. Most noticeably, Worf (Michael Dorn) becomes unaccountably surly, which is initially funny but grows worrisome as the episode wears on. Even Captain Picard (Patrick Stewart) is beginning to exhibit symptoms of paranoia. Data alone is unaffected, and it’s up to him to put on his Sherlock Holmes cap and figure out just what is going on.

Genesis goes in a much different direction than I anticipated. It’s one of the funniest TNG episodes I’ve seen, in a campier-than-the-original-series kind of way. I’m not sure it was supposed to be so silly, but really, once Deanna sprouts gills, it’s hard to take anything that happens in the episode too seriously. But boy, it sure made me chuckle...

Frankenpooh Is Frankly Fantastic

Halloween has come and gone, and this year I never got to watch It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, which is one of those specials I really ought to invest in on DVD. Though nothing can quite match that hilarious, distressing, spiritually challenging classic, I had to get my Halloween fix somehow, so I popped in Frankenpooh, a collection of three Winnie-the-Pooh shorts packaged particularly with the most spookable holiday of all in mind.

The Monster Frankenpooh finds Piglet (John Fiedler) attempting to tell a tale to an audience that includes the disrespectful Tigger (Paul Winchell), who has a history on The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh of abducting the innocuous stories of others and molding them to his own devious purposes. One of my all-time favorite episodes involves him sabotaging Piglet's bland "poohetry" reading with improvised verse that takes his nervous friend on a terrifying adventure, and that's similar to what happens here.

Of course, Pooh-style scary is not actually very scary at all. The monster Tigger concocts is merely a giant-sized Pooh (Jim Cummings) who roams through the Hundred-Acre Wood in search of honey while the other residents, garbed in Victorian clothing, band together to confront Dr. Von Piglet about all the trouble he has caused. As a writer, I get an extra kick out of these storytelling episodes and admire Tigger's improvisational creativity, though if I were Piglet I might well be a bit peeved with him...

Things That Go Piglet in the Night begins with the gang of friends all swinging together on a giant swing dangling from a limb on an accommodating tree. One of the things I love about this show is its artful animation, and this episode offers a spectacular sunset and equally stunning sunrise. In between, three separate adventures ensue, eventually coming together.

When everyone else heads home for the night, Eeyore sticks around to do some swinging, since he didn't get a turn before, and a curious Tigger heads out to investigate the resulting noise, postulating, "Either the moon has termites, or it's one of them spookables!" Relieved to find that it's neither, he gives up a good night's sleep to personally coach Eeyore on the fine art of swinging. Meanwhile, the shadowy spectacle of the flying donkey spooks the others from their beds, and a pillow-case-wearing Piglet has several encounters with Pooh, Rabbit (Ken Ransom), Owl (Hal Smith) and Gopher (Michael Gough) in which each thinks the other party is a ghost. Delightful chaos ensues.

The confusion continues with Pooh Moon, in which Pooh, Piglet, Tigger, Rabbit and Gopher decide to go on a camping trip, an exercise I'm frankly a bit surprised Piglet agreed to, what with all that pesky darkety-dark and the close proximity to any number of bone-chilling beasts. Tigger seems to invent a new monster in every mildly scary Pooh episode there is, and in this case, he gets his friends all worked up about the Grab Me Gotcha, especially Rabbit, though he claims not to believe in such nonsense.

This episode is reminiscent of Little Bear because Pooh, accompanied by Piglet, takes a tumble and, looking up to see no moon in the sky where it was a moment before, comes to the conclusion that he and Piglet have landed on the "honey moon," and that they now will have the opportunity to collect moon honey. They set off across the strange landscape, coming across a variety of creepy moon creatures. Meanwhile, the others awake to find Pooh and Piglet missing and go off in search of the Grab Me Gotcha in order to retrieve them, getting filthy and scared witless in the process. One of my favorite aspects of this episode, along with Pooh's imaginative wanderings, is the sleeping bags. Gopher's doesn't really stand out, but Tigger has a big orange stripedy bag, while Pooh's is orange and red, Piglet's is pink with thin stripes and Rabbit's looks exactly like a carrot. I also love the fact that they take actual ears of corn with them to pop over the campfire.

All three of these episodes are fine examples of the craftsmanship that consistently marked The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh. Though none specifically reference Halloween, all are suitably spooky, especially with the suspenseful music that kicks in every now and then. My only complaint is that only three episodes were included, since many installments in this series involved creepy happenings, often playing up the contrast between Piglet and Tigger. One that comes to mind immediately involves Christopher Robin taking his friends on a rare field trip outside the forest to a movie theater, where they see a monster movie and subsequently try to film their own, and there are several along those lines.

The video is only half an hour long; would it have hurt to include a couple extra cartoons? I'm still waiting for the day when each of the seasons is released on DVD, but so many episodes have been scattered around piecemeal, three at a time, like this that I doubt that will ever happen, which is a shame, since this is one of the best shows ever to grace a hallowed Saturday morning time slot. Apparently a few people agree with me, since its first season won a Daytime Emmy. At Halloween or any other time, Frankenpooh delivers just a hint of a shiver for young children and for all us Piglets who never grew out of our night-time jitters.

Can Anyone Outclass Fox in Cleverness?

The other day, I sat back and enjoyed Herbie Goes Bananas, a film starring my all-time favorite vehicle, that lovable little Volkswagen beetle with a mind of his own. When I glanced at the cover of Fox Outfoxed, part of the James Marshall series for early readers about a self-involved fox who's always getting himself into trouble, I couldn't help but think of Herbie. The picture is of Fox literally flying down the sidewalk in a homemade car painted red with an angry, sharp-toothed mouth. It would seem that Fox is in a race. It soon becomes apparent that in this small-time tournament, he is not Jim Douglas, Herbie's talented driver, but Peter Thorndike, Jim's nemesis, who resorts to extremely dubious tactics in order to win races.

In A Faster Fox, after watching his friends building cars so they can race them for a grand prize of a candy store shopping spree, Fox decides to build his own vehicle. His little sister Louise offers to lend a helping paw, and at first he shoos her away, but then he realizes that with some ingenuity and some sisterly aid, that shopping spree might just be within easy reach. Fox is a real twerp in this story, though he's worse in the third tale. His unethical behavior here is rewarded accordingly, though, so children won't likely be inspired to attempt cheating based on his example. In fact, I would say his experience is a very effective deterrent, though the lesson is imparted with humor, particularly in the droll illustrations, rather than heavy-handedness.

Comic Fox makes me sad. Fox is extremely fond of comic books, as we see in the picture in which he sits surrounded by massive piles of them. He is unmoved when his mom teases him about his obsession, but then his pretty neighbor Lulu catches him out front reading his ten favorite comics. And her teasing is a little harder to take, so he pretends he was just on his way to toss them out, leading her to snatch them, supposedly for her little brother. Fox learns a lesson about the value of swallowing his pride while discovering he might not be the cleverest trickster in the neighborhood.

The book ends with Fox Outfoxed, in which Fox, wearing a hideous homemade costume, is forced to let Louise tag along with him and his friends while they go trick-or-treating. Louise is the trickster here, and she gives him the scare of his life after he ditches her on a park bench. My favorite aspect of this story is Louise's costume. She's dressed as a pumpkin, and all we can see is her legs, arms and tail. She's absolutely adorable, especially when she's sitting on that bench, as forlorn as a pumpkin can look. What I don't like is the way Fox's friends goad him into mistreating Louise on their trick-or-treating expedition. Fox is a jerk in this story, but his Dexter and Carmen are worse.

Fox is a sly young devil, but in this book, his tricks backfire on him on three different occasions. While his antics are amusing, they also carry a warning that children would be wise to heed. Even the cleverest among us can sometimes be outfoxed.