Get Geared Up for St. Patrick's Day With Celtic Thunder

I first heard of Celtic Thunder in late 2007 after a friend of mine attended a concert and assured me that these Celtic crooners were "hotties" in her book. I continued to hear the name mentioned periodically and gathered that this was the male version of Celtic Woman, a group who musical stylings I loved, so when my dad stumbled upon their concert on PBS late last year, I was anxious to see if the lads measured up. Goodness, do they! Before I knew it, Dad and I had found ourselves a new obsession.

This self-titled album collects about half the songs from that concert, with a good mix of ensemble efforts and solos by the five vocalists, each of whom takes on a particular persona. Paternal George Donaldson is the only Scotsman of the group and the oldest by about ten years. Next oldest, in their late 20s, are classically trained Paul Byrom, who exudes melancholy poeticism, and rakish Ryan Kelly, dark and irresistible. Teen dream Keith Harkin, in his early 20s, and 14-year-old wunderkind Damian McGinty assure zealous interest from the pre-teen demographic. Separate or together, they are remarkable.

Heartland - This primal-sounding song, the first of many written by Phil Coulter, is a perfect way to open the album, since the Gaelic chorus and rumbling percussion together create true Celtic thunder. It's a group effort; each member has an opportunity to shine throughout the prayerful verses, while the men join forces for backing harmonies and the powerful refrain that translates to "Lord have mercy; Christ have mercy; Lord have mercy." The sense of reverence and majesty in this track is palpable, and I have to give props to Paul for his stirring delivery of the culminating statement of gratitude: "Thank you, Lord, you have brought us safe to shore. / Be our strength and protection evermore!" In fact, it may be my favorite Paul moment on the album. Meanwhile, Damian's big moment is merely a transposed rendition of the refrain, but the purity of his youthful voice maximizes the impact.

Mountains of Mourne - This traditional tune, written about a century ago, gave me my first impression of Keith. Though I later learned Don McLean had covered the song years ago, it was a new one for me, but it's right in line with yearning ballads such as Isle of Innisfree. Keith specializes in earnest romantic rambles tenderly addressing the object of his affections. This one is an epistle to a humble, small-town ladylove on the brassy beauty of London and the speaker's longing for the simpler pleasures of home. My dad settled on it as an early standout after I gave him this album for Christmas, so it's had more time to grow on me than his others, but from the lovely melody and gentle delivery to the accomplished lyrics and wistful yet humorous tone, I think it's earned its place as my favorite of Keith's songs. "I saw him one day as I was crossing the Strand, / And he stopped the whole street with a wave of his hand. / And as we stood talking of days that are gone, / The whole town of London was there to look on..."

The Voyage - And this song introduced me to George, who gives the group such gravitas. George's songs are thematically linked by family; in every instance, he comes across as passionate about his most intimate relationships, whether that's as a father, a son or a husband. I'm hard-pressed to choose a favorite among his, but this was an early front-runner, in large part because it reminds me so powerfully of the journey of Desmond, LOST's lovelorn, seafaring Scotsman. To my knowledge, no one has created a tribute video to Desmond and Penny using this song as a backdrop, but it seems as though it could have been written just for him in his post-Island life. (Pair it up with Candle on the Water for Penny, and you've got their whole story arc covered.)  The speaker in this slow, steady ballad has all the marks of a man in a truly time-tested relationship, and George's sincerity is the anchor preventing the lyrics, with their abundance of nautical imagery, from drifting off into corny waters. "I am a sailor, you're my first mate. / We signed on together, we coupled our fate. / We hauled up our anchor, determined not to fail. / For the heart's treasure, together we set sail."

Come By the Hills (Buachaill On Eirne) - I heard this song several times before I actually watched Damian perform it; listening to the album, it's not readily apparent that the lad with the pristine pitch and celestial vocals is barely a teenager. Here, his voice has an achingly timeless quality to it, particularly when he sings in Irish. It seems as though all the wonder the green isle could contain comes tumbling out of his mouth. Damian's milieu is harder to pin down, since it includes both sweeping songs of inspiration like this one and kiddie pop numbers about teen romances. The latter are fun, but I prefer this type, and this song in particular has the power to transport listeners to another place, and perhaps another time. It's simply glorious. "Come by the hills to the land where fancy is free, / And stand where the peaks meet the sky and the loughs meet the sea, / Where the rivers run clear and the bracken is gold in the sun / And the cares of tomorrow can wait till this day is done."

Remember Me (Recuerda Me) - I have to admit that after a couple of weeks of listening to Celtic Thunder, or more specifically listening to my dad listening to it, I sat down and watched the concert and found myself rather surprised to discover that Paul existed. Poor guy; his songs always wound up getting skipped. Paul has an absolutely magnificent voice, but he sounds like he belongs at the Met, or at least on Broadway, so he feels a bit out of place, especially since his accent is virtually absent when he sings. He's slowly winning me over, though, and while I'm not wild about the operatic delivery, Paul's sweetly sad tone and mastery of the melody make an impression. This also happens to be the first song with a wartime theme, which various members come back to on both albums. "A comrade strums on a sad guitar. / My mind is drifting to where you are. / I'm holding you as I used to do. / Remember me, recuerda me, mi amor!"

Desperado - When Dad first discovered Celtic Thunder, he was watching television downstairs, and after several minutes of listening to the muffled sounds of Irish instruments, I concluded that PBS must be airing that concert I'd heard about, so I tuned in upstairs, just in time to catch this right at the very beginning. "But this isn't a Celtic song," one part of my brain argued, while the other shushed away objections as I drank in the sublime cover of a longtime favorite. Prior familiarity with the Eagles classic may have had something to do with it, but I was mesmerized by Ryan's warmth as he gazed into the camera, eyes shining, smile gently hovering between concern and exuberance. Just watching it once was enough to secure the visuals in my mind for subsequent listens. Ryan's big numbers on the other albums have him assuming the mantle of a rogue, but here it's as though he's stepping outside of that persona to tenderly scold it. I've grown to love most of the songs on the two Celtic Thunder albums, but no other track inspires quite the same fluttery feeling this one does. It's a transcendent moment akin to Donny Osmond's uplifting performance of Close Ev'ry Door in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, and it's enough to give Ryan the edge for me to declare him the most smokin' Celtic Thunderer. I could never get tired of this song. "Desperado, oh, you ain't gettin' no younger. / Your pain and your hunger, they're drivin' you home. / And freedom, oh freedom, that's just some people talkin'. / Your prison is walking through this world all alone."

Steal Away - There's nothing like an a cappella number to emphasize a group's ability to artfully harmonize. While this is easily the album's most repetitive song lyrically, the fascination lies in the seamless blending and vocal variation. Paul seems like the most prominent presence here, but it's George who provides the all-important lower register that gives the song such musical depth. "Steal away, let's steal away. / No reason left to stay. / For me and you, / Let's start anew, / And darlin' steal away."

The Island - Keith's up again with this song that's a curious mix of bitter anti-war sentiment and seductive escapism. The verses are world-weary and sarcastic, with strange staccato phrasing that takes a bit of getting used to. The speaker shifts gears as he moves into the chorus, imploring his addressee not to listen to his rants but instead to join him in his delicate daydreams about a secluded seashore getaway. This one makes me think of Nitty Gritty Dirt Band's American Dream, though its political underpinnings threaten to rattle the illusions of the carefree chorus, and frankly I find the searing commentary of the verses more compelling than the coupling. "Now I know us plain folks don't see all the story, / And I know this peace and love's just copping out. / And I guess these young boys dying in the ditches / Is just what being free is all about."

The Old Man - George's affectionate lament for a deceased father is the song that made Dad a fan. I'm always on the lookout for songs that celebrate dads who've made a difference, and this one's right up there with Leader of the Band in terms of the degree of respect shown to the subject. At times, it's even a bit more intimate than Dan Fogelberg's tribute, which focuses less on individual father-son moments and more on how the way his father conducted his life taught him how to live. But it's also sadder, which makes it a track to which I tend not to gravitate. "As a boy he'd take me walkin' / By mountain field and stream, / And he showed me things / Not known to kings / And secret between him and me..."

Brothers in Arms - Speaking of sad, this violin-soaked reflection on the tragedy of war is piercingly elegiac. Watch the concert, and it looks as though Ryan spends the entire song on the verge of tears. The melancholy melody and emotion with which he sings it remind me of Empty Chairs at Empty Tables, the song from Les Miserables in which Marius memorializes his fallen comrades. Examining the lyrics more closely, I also faintly hear Sam Gamgee's rumination from The Two Towers as he witnesses the death of an enemy in his first up-close experience of battle: "He wondered what the man's name was and where he came from; and if he was really evil of heart, or what lies or threats had led him on the long march from his home; and if he would not really rather have stayed there in peace..." Ryan breathes compassion and despair into this cover that is one of Celtic Thunder's most exquisite and unsettling songs. "Some day you'll return to / Your valleys and your farms, / And you'll no longer burn / To be brothers in arms."

Cal / Local Hero - This is the point when the talented instrumentalists have the opportunity to take the spotlight. They certainly demonstrate their expertise here, but it's a more effective showcase on the DVD when you can see who's doing what.

Lauren & I - Not only is Keith killer at singing sensitive love songs, he can write them too! Though this one hasn't grabbed me as much as most of his other efforts, I commend him for proving he's more than just a pretty face (and spectacular voice). I was surprised to learn he'd written this, since it's such a carefully orchestrated show, almost more theatrical production than concert. At what point, I wonder, was it decided that Keith's contribution would be incorporated? Anyway, a simple but nice little song. "And there's the stars way in the sky / Leading my way and I don't know where or why. / Still I can't see you..."

She - Paul doesn't shy away from the sap in his second big solo of the album. It's an ideal vehicle for him, as it allows him to show off his range and dynamics. This is one of those songs that builds gradually, allowing for dramatic key changes and a thrilling climax of glory notes. It still doesn't sound very Celtic to me, but at least he's not speaking Italian, and he so obviously relishes the gift of this song for his voice that I find myself wanting to cheer for him by the end of it. "She maybe the reason I survive, / The why and wherefore I'm alive, / The one I care for through the rough and ready years..."

Ireland's Call - This ensemble track feels like a finale, and it would have made such a perfect bookend to Heartland that I'm perplexed as to why it doesn't conclude the album. After this, Damian's hammy ditty feels downright anti-climactic; maybe they stuck it there to make up for the fact that he barely gets a moment to himself in this number and seems overpowered by the other four, to the extent that when I'm listening without watching, I can't pick him out at all. In Heartland, the men sound almost monk-like, while this unifying anthem is almost reminiscent of Burger King's "I am man, hear me roar" testosterone fests of a couple years ago. With lines like "We will fight until we can fight no more, / Till our final requiem is spoken," its militant bent seems slightly at odds with the pacifist pleas that otherwise run through the album, but while the song sure gets the blood pumping, it's more about brotherhood than obliteration. "Ireland, Ireland, / Together standing tall. / Shoulder to shoulder, / We'll answer Ireland's call."

Puppy Love - Oh, the agony of misunderstood teenage romance! Damian sings the heck out of this song, milking it for all the adolescent angst he can muster. He seems to delight in being overdramatic here, making it a fun bit of bubble gum that borders on silly. He does a great job, but it just feels like an odd way to end the album. "I cry each night, my tears for you, / My tears are all in vain. / I'll hope and I'll pray that maybe someday / You'll be back in my arms once again."

If the order of a couple of tracks is my main issue with the album, you can be sure that Celtic Thunder exceeded my expectations to become a group I may end up treasuring just as much as my beloved Irish Rovers. They are a new band, so I hope this is not a stand-alone musical event but a promising beginning; I look forward to hearing more from these dreamy dudes for years to come.

Come Fill Up Your Glasses and Drink the Health of the Irish Rovers

Back in 2001, I saw the Irish Rovers in concert for the third and, thus far, final time, though I've come close to catching them again in the intervening years. They seem to be especially fond of the Erie area - and I am especially fond of them. That concert had a different flavor than the first two I attended, partly because it was in a smaller venue and partly because the line-up had changed. Will Millar, who acted as frontman at the previous concerts, was no longer with the group, and vocalist Jim Ferguson had died. Nonetheless, it was a most enjoyable concert, capped off with a meet and greet afterwards, where we bought their latest albums and had them signed by the whole band.

One of the albums we bought on that occasion was Come Fill Up Your Glasses, which has the feel of a transitional album. Will is nowhere to be found in this collection; Jim is present, but the album is dedicated to his memory, as he died shortly after the recording was completed. The most prominent member, or at least the one who most captures my attention, is John Reynolds, who in 1998, at the time this was released, was a fairly recent addition to the group.

The album consists of 14 tracks, many of which are traditional, with most featuring arrangements, if not words or music, by George Millar, brother to Will and cousin to Joe. Among the more familiar songs are Green Grows the Laurel and Little Brigid Flynn, both of which feature guys in love with unattainable women. The first has lost his love to a better man, while the second can't get the object of his affections to acknowledge his existence. Another two tracks have medleys of lively jigs and reels that give accomplished accordionist Wilcil McDowell the opportunity to shine.

Marriage is a popular subject with the Rovers and comes up in two of George's originals, Kitty the Rose of Kilrea and Will You Come and Marry Me. Both involve a poor young man marrying a beautiful woman. In the first, the speaker is a rambling rover willing to settle down for only one woman. In the second, a young woman refuses a series of earnest proposals, but in an ironic twist, she ultimately chooses a man who apparently isn't too thrilled with the honor. Bonnie Labouring Boy, meanwhile, is Joe's tender salute to all hard-working paupers who deserve to marry the women they love but don't necessarily get the opportunity.

George Millar's Ballintoy Farmer is a rather amusing and lengthy narrative ballad about a young man's all-time worst employment experience. While this is a fun song, I prefer the defiant The Shores of Botany Bay, in which a disgruntled worker tells off his boss and announces that he's headed for Australia; though most of his peers only get there as prisoners, this rough-and-tumble fellow sees freedom and opportunity in that far-off land. I like this one partly because Botany Bay always makes me think of The Wrath of Khan, and listening to it again recently, it reminds me of Yesterday's Men, a more modern but equally bitter song sung by George Donaldson of Celtic Thunder. It's one of the most rousing tunes on the album, and John and George harmonize wonderfully.

All of It and A Little Bit More are similar songs about getting as much as one can of something, whether that's alcohol or life. The first is a bit bawdy, while the second takes on a wistful tone because it's the one track on which Jim has lead vocals, and it follows a man through a life of asking for just a little bit more, including a prophetic plea for more time after a grim diagnosis from a doctor. The title track, Come Fill Up Your Glasses, is a lengthy, heartening toast wishing great things for a list of specific others and peace for all.

John has lead vocals on my two favorite tracks on this album. He wrote The Tinker, a gentle tune about a gypsy who wanders from place to place gratefully accepting the hospitality of those who take him in for the night. There's such warmth in his husky voice that listening to him sing "thank you for sharing the warmth of your fire" is like cozying up to the fireplace yourself.

Finally, Lincoln's Army, written by Johnny McEvoy, is one of the most stirring ballads I've ever heard. It's beautifully written, anchored by an AABCCB structure that charmed me so much I had to try my hand at it myself. With five stanzas of 92 syllables each, you can pack an awful lot of story into this beautiful mandolin-laced tune with the yearning flute strains that ripple through it like a plea for peace. Like many Rovers songs, it's about emigration, but it addresses a very specific experience, that of a young Irishman who leaves his family for the land of opportunity and, finding welcome only with the army, signs up to fight in the Civil War. It's a piece of history recounted in rich detail with McEvoy's accomplished lyrics, which carry a tone of perplexity for the cruelty of war, ending on this softly optimistic note: "And so, Mr. Lincoln, I find myself thinking / In spite of what's happened, I know what we'll do: / Pray God if he's willing there'll be no more killing / And we'll raise up the Stars, the Red. White and the Blue." It's one of the humblest pacifist songs I've encountered, and John's resonant voice is a perfect fit for it.

I'd recommend the album on the strength of Lincoln's Army alone, but Come Fill Up Your Glasses is packed with excellent material from beginning to end, so much so that although I considered Will my favorite member up until his split with the group, I can honestly say the album doesn't feel empty without him. Longtime fans who remember the Rovers from their heyday will be glad to see how they've weathered changes, remaining just as cohesive and entertaining as ever.

Trenton Lee Stewart Introduces Another Great Series with The Mysterious Benedict Society

In 2006, I turned the last page in A Series of Unfortunate Events. In 2007, I bid a reluctant farewell to Harry Potter. This year, I opened the first volume of The Mysterious Benedict Society. Perhaps I have found a worthy successor to those most excellent series.

This hefty middle grade novel by Trenton Lee Stewart reminded me of both. Instead of three orphaned children with unusual talents, it features four Well, not all are strictly orphaned, but as Reynie, the leader of the little group, observes, each child is, in some sense, alone. They respond to a curious ad in the paper promising "special opportunities" to those who pass a series of unusual tests. After they meet each other, it becomes clear that each has passed the tests using very different methods. It's their complementary ways of looking at the world that make them such ideal teammates.

Reynie Muldoon is the first character we meet, and Stewart allows us into his head more than the others'. A good-natured lad who is very intelligent but despises school, Reynie's specialty is puzzling things out. If some sort of trickery is afoot, Reynie is likely to pick up on it. As a lifelong loner, he loves the fact that he now has friends but is mystified by the way they look to him for leadership in all of their decisions. George Washington, a nervous, bespectacled boy who prefers to be called Sticky, is incredibly well-read, and his memory is impeccable. While he is plagued with insecurities, Sticky's extensive knowledge, particularly of Morse Code, is invaluable to the group.

Cheerful Kate Wetherall is a bundle of energy. Undaunted by whatever challenges lie in her path, she goes tumbling headfirst into danger, always concocting a clever, physically taxing scheme to achieve her ends. Petite Constance Contraire is the last to join the group, and though the others find it difficult to bond with her, since she always seems to be cranky, and question what unique abilities qualify her for their impending mission, they trust Mr. Benedict's assurances that her value will soon become apparent.

Mr. Benedict is the eccentric old man who organized the tests, and he gives the foursome a sense of stability that the Baudelaire orphans lack. He might well be compared to Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter's sage headmaster. Like the famed wizard, he offers guidance but also leaves his young charges to figure out many things on their own. His special task involves sending them to a prestigious institute as uninviting as the one featured in The Austere Academy. There, they must try to excel and thereby learn as many of founder Ledroptha Curtain's secrets as they can without getting sucked into his web of illusions.

The Institute has an oppressive aura about it, like something out of 1984; most of the students seem to have been brainwashed, and it's doubtful whether any one of the children could resist the subtle seductions of Mr. Curtain and his machinery for long if they didn't have each other. Though they know Mr. Benedict and his friends are keeping an eye on them, they have no allies within the Institute itself, with the possible exception of S. Q. Pedalian, a bumbling Executive (a glorified hall monitor, among other things) who always treats them kindly but remains loyal to Mr. Curtain. This dim-witted young man who reminds me a bit of Stan Shunpike, conductor of the Knight Bus in the Harry Potter series, is my favorite of the minor characters, and I'm anxious to see in what direction the sequel will take him.

Part of the book's fun is trying to figure out the solutions to riddles and the meanings of clues before the main characters do. The most interesting revelations are character-related, and I confess that most of them took me by surprise, though a forehead-slapping "Of course!" soon followed. Stewart does an especially good job of resolving certain character traits and back stories as the novel draws to a close. The book is on the long side at nearly 500 pages, but there are almost 40 chapters, so the narrative is broken up into nice, manageable chunks.

It's too early for me to decide just where The Mysterious Benedict Society fits in with some of the intermediate series I've most enjoyed, but I certainly like it enough to pick up the second book and follow Reynie, Sticky, Kate and Constance through their next great adventure.

Scooby-Doo Has a Goony Time with the Harlem Globetrotters

A couple of weeks ago, I went to see the Harlem Globetrotters for the first time. They're regular visitors to the area, showing up about once a year to entertain crowds of kids in the middle of winter. I decided it was time to get in on the action. Then, as a way of extending my basketball wizardry experience, I hopped onto Netflix, hoping to rent The Harlem Globetrotters on Gilligan's Island. Alas, I had no luck in that department but stumbled upon something else potentially promising: Scooby-Doo Meets the Harlem Globetrotters.

There was a time when I watched Scooby-Doo fairly regularly with my brother. We watched it largely because it was so corny, and we got a kick out of making fun of it. This collection of two 40-minute-long Scooby-Doo cartoons is every bit as ridiculous as I expected. Both involve a chance encounter between Scooby's gang and the Globetrotters that lands them in a haunted mansion. Of course, neither house is actually haunted; there's always a perfectly logical explanation for everything that initially appears to be supernatural activity. But a spooky old house is a Scooby standard, so it's not surprising to find one in both episodes.

Other recurring elements: Shaggy (Casey Kasem) and Scooby (Don Messick) stuffing themselves, Fred (Frank Welker) making pointless observations, Velma (Nicole Jaffe) scolding Shaggy and Scooby for their silliness and Daphne (Heather North) not doing much of anything. And, because of the special guests, both episodes feature the Harlem Globetrotters doing fancy tricks with their ever-present basketballs. There are half a dozen team members that meet up with the gang, the most striking of whom are the effeminate-sounding Bobby Joe (Eddie Anderson) and the bald Curly (Stu Gilliam), whose abrasive voice reminds me of Gilbert Gottfried. Meadowlark (Scatman Crothers) seems to be the most level-headed of the bunch and tends to assume the leadership role among them.

The Mystery of Haunted Island is the more outlandish of the two tales. In this episode, Team Scooby and the Globetrotters bump into each other at an abandoned shack (where Fred is convinced they will find a can of gas for their car and a working telephone). The Globetrotters have a big game tomorrow but accept the gang's invitation to join the for lunch on Picnic Island. Except the boat they board doesn't take them to Picnic Island. No, instead they wind up on Haunted Island, after a long trip with only themselves as crew. It's already dark, so the picnic idea is out the window and all anybody is interested in is finding a place to sleep. Cue creepy mansion.

This episode is one of the more ridiculous Scooby-Doo episodes I can remember seeing, particularly once we find out who is causing all the strange happenings on Haunted Island and why. It's completely convoluted, an elaborate series of circumstances orchestrated as a very complicated solution to a simple problem. Unlike in most Scooby episodes, there's a fair bit of story left after the unmasking of the villains, and this part is probably the most entertaining aspect of the episode, as it allows the Globetrotters to really show off all their fancy tricks in some creative ways. The good-natured guys are fun to watch throughout, whether they're all huddled together under the covers hiding from spooks or ransacking a library looking for a secret exit, but they're most in their element in the last few minutes.

Loch Ness Mess is a much more typical episode. Shaggy and his friends are off to see his uncle in rural Massachusetts. On their way there, they stumble upon the Globetrotters, who are having a roadside barbecue. The sleuths load up on hot dogs and burgers and invite the guys to join them for some R&R at Shaggy's uncle's expansive farmhouse. Before they get there, they encounter ghosts in Revolutionary garb who warn them to stay away. Later, a trip to the lake brings them face to face with a Loch Ness-style sea serpent. Who are this mysterious beings, and what do they want? The solution this time around makes more sense; the downside is that the opportunities for the Globetrotters to do their tricks are more limited.

Included on this disc are a couple of uninspiring extras. One is a music video about Scooby taking on Hollywood, and it's sung by Shaggy, whose voice seems even creakier when he's attempting (poorly) to carry a tune. Less grating but barely worth accessing is a game promising some fancy Globetrotters antics if you follow a series of hints about the direction in which the featured player should toss his ball next. There are only a few panels, and they're completely two-dimensional, so it's hard to get too excited about a freeze frame that doesn't so much resemble fancy basketball-playing as one of those Family Circus strips in which Billy wanders all around the neighborhood, with dotted lines indicating the path he has taken.

Renting Scooby-Doo Meets the Harlem Globetrotters was a fun addendum to my evening, but it really is woefully silly. If you're a Scooby fan, it's pretty typical stuff, but if you haven't acquired a taste for his show, you might just find this collection a bit too much to take.

Glitzy 81st Oscars Are a Ceremony to Remember

I came into the 2008 Oscars having seen only three of the nominees: WALL-E, The Dark Knight and Doubt. I almost saw Slumdog Millionaire, but the theater was sold out and we never made it back; I have no excuse for Man on Wire, since not only does Netflix have it, it's available for instant viewing. But that will have to be my first post-Oscar pick. Anyway, though I hadn't seen most of the movies involved, I was fairly well-informed about most of them, and I found myself especially rooting for The Little Movie That Could, which came close to pulling off a Return of the King-style sweep.

Last year's ceremony was pretty short on frills. By contrast, this year's was showy, from the gorgeous crystal curtain hanging over the stage to the song-and-dance antics of host Hugh Jackman. I thought the ensemble tribute to musical theater featuring him, Beyonce, Vanessa Hudgens and Zac Efron was entertaining, albeit rather chaotic. But the opening number, where he so energetically and hilariously honored the Best Picture nominees (and The Dark Knight), was brilliant. Clever lyrics, great way of matching the music to the mood of the movies, and man, can that guy sing! And Anne Hathaway was a nice surprise. They looked - and sounded - great together.

I liked the structure of taking us through the movie-making process, which put more focus on the amount of work that goes into the more technical aspects of movie production. I was a little disappointed that WALL-E won in none of these categories, but at least it took home the big award for Best Animated Picture. (As if there was any doubt; I loved Jack Black's line about starring in Dreamworks movies and then betting all his money on Pixar winning the Oscar.) The WALL-E-centric ode to 2008's animated features was fun, as were his appearances in the romance montage.

One of the most memorable moments from the technical awards came with Best Cinematography, when Ben Stiller did a killer Joaquin Phoenix impression while Natalie Portman played it straight. It was hilarious, but it did seem a bit disrespectful; then again, perhaps the movie community feels like Phoenix has been thumbing his nose at them lately. What was really disrespectful was the fact that Stiller went on goofing around while the nominees were being read, so it didn't seem like anyone was paying attention to those names. I think he let the gag go on too long and detracted from their big moment. The Slumdog cinematographer gave a great speech, though, gracious and funny.

I was a little surprised that some presenters stayed on stage so long, but it seemed to streamline the process a bit, and I don't think anyone was complaining too much about seeing Will Smith presenting four awards in a row. The rising through the floor bit was fun, as was his comment, the fourth time around, that Hugh was napping. Probably the most memorable of that batch of speeches was for Sound Mixing. He really seemed to appreciate it, and taking it as a victory for his whole country was nice. And going back to Best Make-Up (one of several presented rather blandly by Daniel Craig and Sarah Jessica Parker), that was an impressive list of names to spit out in such a short time. Made for a somewhat dull speech, but I'm sure the folks who were mentioned appreciated it.

The one low point in the evening for me was when Bill Maher presented the documentary awards. I groaned when I saw him step out because I knew he'd have something inflammatory to say. As somebody who's generally more involved in television than movies, he felt rather out of place anyway, and instead of acting grateful for the opportunity, he seemed to be bent on deriding everybody. And plugging his movie. From his "silly little gods" comment to his dismissive remark after the Man on Wire guys made their speech, he just oozed contempt for the whole thing. I don't know if Maher's beef with them was the documentary itself or the speech, but I loved that they invited their subject up to the stage. He was among the giddiest people we saw all night, and I got a kick out of his Oscar-balancing and disappearing coin trick.

I expected that Prop 8 would come up at some point during the night, and it did. Sean Penn got a little heated with his remarks, but I enjoyed his speech overall, especially the shout-out to Mickey Rourke. Still, I preferred the emotional acceptance speech of Milk's incredibly young-looking screenwriter, and it was moving to see him getting choked up all over again as Penn accepted his award. His profound gratitude lessened the blow of WALL-E failing to get top screenplay honors. I still think it should have been nominated for Best Picture. I thought Tina Fey and Steve Martin were a great presenting team, by the way, and I was quite content to watch them banter their way through two awards.

Speaking of banter, Seth Rogen and James Franco's video was a hoot. As an ode to comedy it was rather strange, since half the featured movies were only funny because those two were laughing at wildly inappropriate times, but I thought it worked. I also found the promo for Jimmy Kimmel with Tom Cruise hilarious, and the only ad aside from the inspirational True North commercials that really got my attention. (I actually stayed up for Kimmel because of it and was rewarded with not only more silliness with Cruise but also deliciously ridiculous previews for The Curious Case of Benjamin Batman and The Colonel, a Civil War epic starring Mel Gibson. As Colonel Sanders.)

I found Queen Latifah's live song accompanying the memorial tribute classy, though I'm not sure if it was such a good idea not to fill the screen with the clips of the deceased. I found it rather hard to see what was happening, and I missed a few of the names. I liked Eddie Murphy's presentation of Jerry Lewis's honorary award, as well as the video (especially the clip of Mattie Stepanek), and I thought that Lewis was very gracious. He also looked like he was in good health. Anyway, he could have taken a moment to grouse about never being recognized for his work in the years when he was in so many movies, but instead he just seemed thankful.

One thing that I really liked this year was the way the acting awards were presented. It felt so much more meaningful to have five past winners stand up there and speak directly to the nominees than just showing a little clip of the movie. Each of the nominees really seemed to appreciate those words of praise; it was like they all got a prize. I especially got a kick out of Whoopi Goldberg's riff on nuns to Amy Adams (who I was hoping, but not really expecting, to win). I can't believe Alan Arkin flubbed Philip Seymour Hoffman's name, but it was a nice speech otherwise. All 20 of those mini-speeches were beautifully done, I thought. The Oscars didn't seem so concerned with speed this time around. There was time for reflection and big showy musical numbers, and nobody got played off the stage.

I was rooting for Meryl Streep for Best Actress, but Kate Winslet sure was tickled with her win. I kept forgetting she was up there for The Reader and not Revolutionary Road. It's been a big year for her. I liked her acceptance speech, especially the part about practicing this moment with a shampoo bottle in front of the mirror when she was eight, and thanking Peter Jackson for her first big break. Asking her dad to whistle so she knew where he was also was great. Of course, perhaps no other award of the night had generated more interest than Best Supporting Actor. I wasn't surprised in the least to see Heath Ledger receive the award (though it's slightly disturbing that the winning role has been a homicidal sociopath two years running). I thought both Kevin Kline and the members of Ledger's immediate family paid him nice tribute, and I thought it was appropriate that the cameras spent so much time panning through the audience for reactions to this particular award. It seemed like a cathartic moment for everyone there.

Of course, the king of the night was Slumdog Millionaire, and they must've cut to the ecstatically grinning Danny Boyle about a dozen times. I loved his speech, especially the bouncing up and down before announcing that he was receiving the award in the spirit of Tigger and his shout-out to the people of Mumbai. I wasn't all that interested in the music categories this year, but I thought A. R. Rahman seemed very touched. At first, he just seemed shell-shocked, but he recovered by the second award, and I liked what he had to say about the power of hope and choosing love over hate. After it won so many other awards, I would have been pretty surprised to see Slumdog not take top honors, so the Best Picture award wasn't a shocker, but it was a great moment with everybody, especially the kids, up on stage. What a night for them!

I took a stab at guessing in each of the categories, though I was completely clueless about a few of them. I managed to guess 14 correctly, which was slightly better than last year, when I had seen much more of the nominees. What does that tell you? Of course, I have Slumdog to thank for some of that. Now that it's been so richly rewarded, I'm even more determined to see if I think it lives up to the accolades. In any case, this Cinderella story provided an uplifting tone for the evening that was most welcome. And Hugh, if you're not too busy filming New Zealand (the musical! with hobbits!), I'd be more than glad to see you back next year. The Oscars seem to be expanding more and more beyond America every year, but if this night is any indication, that's not a bad thing.

Miri Learns a Lot About Life and Herself in Princess Academy

Last year, while mulling around my aunt's bookstore waiting for the ceremonial opening of the boxes of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, my eye strayed to an audiobook display, where I saw Austenland, a novel about a Jane Austen enthusiast who receives the gift of an immersive trip into Austenian England. Months later, I picked up the audiobook at the library, as it did not seem to be available in traditional book form, but I'm much more of a visual reader and never found the time to finish it. Still, I enjoyed what I heard, and the name stuck with me. Shannon Hale. It wasn't long before my friend Beth clued me in to the fact that Hale has also written several books for young adults, and exceptional ones at that. Hence, Shannon Hale was added to my list of must-read authors. Just recently, she rose to the top of the list.

Princess Academy is the story of Miri, a girl who lives with her father and sister on Mount Eskel, where most of the hardy residents spend their days mining linder, a valuable white stone. Miri stays away from the quarry, heeding her father's strict orders, though she yearns to feel like a valued part of her community. She tends the goats and is in charge of trading with the lowlanders who periodically come to town, but she still feels fairly useless. When an announcement goes out that all girls of a certain age are ordered to attend an academy in order to prepare themselves for the possibility of becoming princess, as the kingdom's priests have determined that the prince is destined to marry a girl from Mount Eskel, Miri at first dreads going. But as classes begin, she starts to imagine how her life, and that of her family, might change for the better if she were selected.

Miri is a spirited heroine, unafraid to speak her mind when she senses injustice. Initially, that happens a lot at the Academy, since their teacher, Olana, is a stern woman who imposes harsh punishments upon her pupils. In trying to defend her peers, she risks increasing her isolation. Terribly lonesome without her sister, who was deemed too old to attend, she struggles to bond with the others and is suspicious of friendly overtures made by the quiet Britta, who moved to the mountain only a short time before. Other girls, like the vacuous Liana and Bena and the fiercely determined Katar, are openly antagonistic as they compete for the title of Academy Princess, an honor likely to give the recipient a better shot with the prince.

Miri works as hard as anyone, pleased to find an arena in which she can excel, but questions whether she truly wants to be princess. The mountain is home, and marrying a man she barely knows is a scary prospect - especially when she thinks about Peder, her childhood playmate, the sight of whom has lately stirred up strange feelings within her. But she has no qualms about her education and is amazed at the world it opens up for her. Learning to read is particularly valuable, as is her accidental discovery of a communication method unique to Mount Eskel residents, which she carefully hones, knowing this covert skill may be of great use to her.

Princess Academy has the feel of an old-fashioned fairy tale, stretched across 25 chapters. It's full of richly drawn characters, adventure and romance with an emphasis on the importance of education and cultural dialogue, and I found the rules for diplomacy enumerated midway through the book worth recalling in everyday life. I could certainly see this being adapted into a fine family film, but even if that happens, it's worth taking the time to read the book. Princess Academy truly is regal.

Freddie Highmore and Joan Plowright Impress in The Spiderwick Chronicles

I first stumbled upon Freddie Highmore in Two Brothers, the 2004 film in which he portrayed a young boy with a pet tiger that eventually had to turned out of the house, only to be reunited with him months later. His performance impressed me, and I've kept an eye out for his movies ever since. The most recent was The Spiderwick Chronicles, a fantastical tale about three siblings who unearth some very unsettling secrets about the rambling home they have just occupied.

The Spiderwick Chronicles are a series of five books for intermediate readers. I've been aware of them for years, but I never read them. From what I understand, this movie covers all five books; I couldn't say how faithfully it adapts them, but the film is entertaining from an outsider's perspective.

Highmore plays both Jared and Simon Grace, a pair of American twins. There's an odd husky quality to his voice, but his American accent is entirely convincing. At first I had a little trouble keeping the twins straight, but Highmore made them distinct enough from each other that I eventually managed. Jared is the one who happens upon the titular volume, a compendium of information about magical beings that could be very dangerous in the wrong hands. He soon discovers that his house is surrounded by such creatures, though seeing them requires either a special eyepiece or a deeper level of vision bestowed by a hobgoblin (Seth Rogen). The only exception is Thimbletack (Martin Short), a curious little fellow who is Jared's staunchest ally in the magical world.

The movie is a rousing adventure filled with CGI, to a sometimes distracting extent. I almost preferred the scenes in which the beasts were invisible and liked the way the theme of proper sight played out over the film. I also liked the family dynamic; the twins fight to keep their home and defeat their shape-shifting nemesis Mulgarath (Nick Nolte) with the help of their spunky sister Mallory (Sarah Bolger), while struggling to come to grips with the separation of their mom (Mary-Louise Parker) and dad (Andrew McCarthy).

The most affecting performance came from Joan Plowright as the children's aunt Lucinda, long institutionalized for her assertion that her father (David Strathairn) was carried off by fairies when she was a girl. For most of her long life, she has been craving his return, and it so happens that he is the key to bringing down Mulgarath. I found this father-daughter subplot to be the true heart of the movie.

The Spiderwick Chronicles isn't quite up there with the best fantasy films I've seen, but it's action-packed and family friendly, and I recommend it to anyone who enjoys the genre.

Captain Picard Says Hello to the 20th Century in The Big Goodbye

When Star Trek: The Next Generation was on the air, my family used to watch it every week, so I was pleased to discover that WGN has recently begun running the series, though I keep forgetting it's on. Last night, I was flipping through the channels and caught it right at the beginning. I can't say I remember this particular episode, a season one outing called The Big Goodbye, but when it opened with stately Captain Jean-Luc Picard (Patrick Stewart) getting all giggly in the Holodeck, I figured I was in for a treat.

The Holodeck is a wonderful Next Generation invention that allows the Enterprise's officers to immerse themselves in any surroundings they choose. This often means trips to fictional or historical settings, which is a nice change of pace, particularly since it gets the characters out of their familiar uniforms. Picard's destination of choice is the early 1940s, where he steps into the trenchcoat of his favorite gumshoe, Dixon Hill, and finds himself in a world of sultry women and snarling mobsters.

He's so impressed upon his first Holodeck adventure that he returns with the ship's historian, Whalen (David Selberg), and Dr. Crusher (Gates McFadden), who hopes the trip will present an opportunity for some alone time with the captain. That prospect becomes more unlikely when the ever-curious Data (Brent Spiner) reads up on the detective and decides to crash the party, confusing Holodeck characters with his pasty skin and matter-of-fact statements about the future, reminding me of Spock in The City on the Edge of Forever. But he's along simply to have fun and becomes increasingly comical as he adopts not only the colloquialisms of the time but also a cheesy accent.

Little does Picard's merry band know that their little game is about to turn deadly, as there are dangerous men on their tail and the Holodeck has malfunctioned, leaving them trapped. What's more, Picard has an important job to do on the bridge - recite the proper greeting to an alien race in hopes of restoring peace after another captain's pronunciation gaffe twenty years earlier deeply offended them. If he doesn't escape soon, it could be a diplomatic disaster.

Most of this episode takes place in the Holodeck, making it especially entertaining, though the action on the ship is engaging too as second-in-command Riker (Jonathan Frakes), engineer Geordi La Forge (LeVar Burton) and geeky teenage ensign Wesley Crusher (Wil Wheaton) rush to fix the Holodeck in time. The most amusing performances definitely come from Stewart and Spiner, both on the Holodeck and off - Stewart because we're not used to seeing Picard swept away in childlike wonder, Spiner because childlike wonder is what he does best. Generally speaking, I find Data to be the show's funniest character.

Despite some high stakes, The Big Goodbye is a lighthearted episode, even down to what Picard has to say to the alien envoy. It's one of the best examples of how fun Next Generation could be.

The President's Puppy: Lincoln From a Dog's Eye View

Ever since Barack Obama's Election Day promise to buy his daughters a puppy, there's been a lot of speculation as to what type of pup might have the honor of being First Dog. Presidential pets are nothing new; according to Wikipedia, only Chester A. Arthur had no pets at all during his stay in the White House, and all but ten Presidents had dogs there. That includes Abraham Lincoln, who adopted a dog named Jip after he got to the White House, but he also left a dog behind in Springfield, fearing the journey and change of surroundings would prove too traumatic. That dog was Fido, the subject of The President's Puppy, a level four Hello Reader! written by Linda Oatman High and illustrated by Steve Bjorkman.

This is an easy reader designed for second and third graders, so the sentence structure tends to be pretty basic, and there's quite a bit of repetition along the lines of Fido did this or He did that. This gives the story a slightly truncated feel. The writing is informative but not particularly engrossing. The illustrations, meanwhile, are a cartoonish sort of realistic and remind me of Sucie Stevenson's pictures for the Henry and Mudge series.

The book is written in the third person but lets readers into Fido's head as the author imagines how the dog would respond to his family life in Illinois and the change in his circumstances after Lincoln's election to the presidency. Among the more interesting tidbits are Lincoln's habit of going to Billy the Barber's and Diller's Drugstore (with Fido in tow) and his gift of Fido's favorite sofa to the neighbors who took him in. There's also the fact that the Lincolns had a photograph taken of Fido before they left for Washington, D.C.; the book doesn't mention this, but it was the first known photo of a presidential pet.

Though the book concludes with President Lincoln's assassination, it fails to mention the death of Willie Lincoln, who figures prominently in the first portion of the book. Perhaps High didn't want the book to get too depressing; I certainly don't blame her for leaving out the fact that Fido's life ended in 1866 when he was stabbed by a drunk. Still, there are certain elements that could have been expanded upon, and the title is misleading, as Fido was several years old in 1860.

The President's Puppy is an interesting little slice of history. By describing his dog, which did many of the same things any typical dog would do (chase his tail, have his ears scratched, play in the leaves, steal food off the table), High helps make Lincoln seem more accessible to modern youngsters. For a much more in-depth look at how Lincoln related to animals, I recommend Ellen Jackson's Abe Lincoln Loved Animals, but The President's Puppy is a good starting point.

Animal Enthusiasts Will Enjoy Abe Lincoln Loved Animals

There are many factors contributing to my fondness for Abraham Lincoln. One is his lifelong affection for animals. I've read several books touching on this subject, but the most comprehensive study of this aspect of his life that I've read is Ellen Jackson's Abe Lincoln Loved Animals, illustrated by Doris Ettlinger.

This book has especially wide pages, allowing for panoramic expanses showing Lincoln in the wild, such as the opening illustration in which he, as a boy, peers from behind a tree to see an array of animals including family of foxes, a pair of deer, a turtle, a raccoon, fish, frogs and birds. The book then progresses through a series of isolated incidents demonstrating Lincoln's connection to the animal world.

One story that seems to come up again and again in books I've read is the time when, as an eight-year-old, he shot a turkey and was so disturbed by it that he vowed never to hunt large animals again. Bookending that moment is the much later instance when, at the request of his son Tad, he officially pardoned Jack, a turkey intended to be made into Christmas dinner. The pardoning of a turkey each Thanksgiving is now a presidential tradition.

The book includes several stories of Lincoln intervening when he observed animals in distress, from rushing to the defense of a turtle upon whose back his school friends were placing hot coals to stopping to scoop up some baby birds that had fallen from a nest in a tree. Other tales concern his pets, like his horse, Old Bob; his dog Fido, who he left with friends in Springfield, but only after getting his photograph taken; and his cat Tabby, who ate at the table with the Lincolns at the White House.

In her Author's Note, Jackson reveals the sources for many of her stories, while the facing page lists twenty books and articles that she used for her research. I'm especially intrigued by Ruth Painter Randall's Lincoln's Animal Friends: Incidents about Abraham Lincoln and Animals, Woven into an Intimate Story of His Life.

Abe Lincoln Loved Animals is written fairly simply but is in-depth enough that it provides historical context for Lincoln's life, particularly during his years as President. Jackson relates his compassion for animals to a commitment to mercy and fairness in general, particularly when it came to slavery. The illustrations are effective, especially those that show him in the company of a variety of animals. As an added bonus, the photograph of Fido is included on the title page. While Jackson and Ettlinger might be accused of taking a rather sentimental approach to Lincoln, particularly in the way they choose to end the book, children who love animals should find it a fascinating study.