"Dragon" Rousing, Lovable, Touching..Fun

Here's a film that got me with a film clip.  "How to Train Your Dragon" is not a kind of film I would naturally warm to.  I have resisted the 3-D bandwagon for the most part, (although I have come to appreciate it done well on appropriate material); and I hardly ever attend movies that are blatantly marketed to kids.  Then, a couple of things happened to bring me around to this movie.


First, I realized that I was unfairly dismissing a form of cinema--children's film--the artistry with which I have become increasingly unfamiliar.  (I recalled how "Mary Poppins" once really inspired me and also moved me in unexpected ways...and still does.)  More recently, "Up" whetted my appetite for the animated feature.  Without consciously knowing it, I was strengthening myself at my roots, re-inventing myself by connecting to the child inside who needed nurturing.


Second, I saw that clip...Hiccup, the young Viking protagonist who would not kill his people's arch enemy, a dragon, watches in wonder as a baby dragon comes next to him and falls asleep, like a loyal dog.  


So I convinced Mark to go, and I thought that we might have fun.



And what fun it is!  No need to recap the plot (the trailer above does a nice job). Rather, in a form I call a "personal review", I want to try to briefly relate what the movie did for me, and meant to me.

It is an exciting tale with much perilous but harmless action, and humor. I identified with the young central character having to survive in a culture in which he does not naturally belong. I liked the conflict between father and son, which is warm and humorous and cartoonishly true.  It made sense that as Hiccup retreats to the forest, the color becomes brighter, softer, while his village, although full of friendly and eccentric characters who are nevertheless sort of ignorant and crude, is cloaked in darkness, until the finale, when dragons are finally welcome as worthy companions. Then it is bathed in bright color and light.

There are a lot of scenes of flight in the film, and Hiccup's attempts to fashion a tail-rudder for his new dragon-friend Toothless is fun, and carries a subtle message about effort and persistence. Their triumph, when they succeed and can really fly, has viewers soaring, both visually and emotionally, right along with them.  For me, a relative novice in the newer cinematic technologies, I was impressed by the naturalness of the effects, which served the story and created an appropriate sense of wonder and thrill.

It is as if all involved got together and agreed to make a classically-constructed story with gentle emotion and rip-roaring clashes and suspense, and do it right. In a disarming way, it left me seeing the world as a more hopeful place, both for the creatures in it, and for the possibilites of learning.  I regarded this simple, small work of sincere artistry and emotion as a success, and it made me happy I visited. The whole theme of loving animals and the power of nature and books to transform minds and attitudes really connected with me.

The movie is worth closer analysis.  I enjoyed the different kinds of detail devoted to the rendering of its human and dragon characters.  I loved the dog-like gaze of Toothless as he waited in resigned terror to be killed, only to be spared by his new human friend.  I was not as excited about the design of Hicccup's contemporaries as 21st-century teenagers, although I understood the short-term box-office rationale for doing so.  I admired the way the movie created a sense of place that was reminiscent of "Lord of the Rings" but more basic, more comfortable.

But enough analysis for now.  I highly recommend this movie, and although I could say much more about different aspects of its construction and its performances, I would ratherleave it here in a more playful realm, that my readers have the same unvarnished experience I had.  No doubt I will revisit this in more depth in a future post.

Prepare to be entertained like a child, but allow your sensitive adult to shed a tear or two.

Saudi Woman Hissa Hillal a Finalist on Middle East "Idol"-Like Contest--For Poets--Monday Journal

Listening to a news item on NPR last week, I heard a story about a TV show in Abu Dhabi that is simillar to our "American Idol".  If that were not surprising enough, all of the contestants are...neither singers nor dancers but... poets. 

And the most startling and encouraging bit of all, about this program called "Million's Poet", is that for the first time, one of the finalists is a female. 

Hissa Hillal is the courageous Saudi housewife who stunned audiences and wowed judges with her short poem about "ad hoc subversive fatwas".  In particular was a recent fatwa calling for segregation of the sexes, and calling for executions of those who support modern ideas.

Hillal, wearing a traditiona niqab, shielding her entire face and body from viewers, delivered a scathing critique of  the clerics who call for killing those who stand against their system of thought and religion.  Hillal's brilliance is evidenced by her choice of language.  She believes that modern critics cannot engage audiences because they use modern language rather than the centuries-old language that still impresses people with deep-seated religious imagery.

Hillal, 43, has written poetry since the age of 12.  She was one of six finalists out of 48 contestants, praised by judges for her courage in expression of her opinion.  While she has gained millions of followers, there have been harsh criticisms and death threats from conservative Saudis.

(The final was temporarily postponed following the death of Shaikh Ahmed Bin Zayed Al Nahyan, Chairman of the Board of Trustees of Zayed Foundation for Charitable and Humanitarian and Managing Director of the Abu Dhabi Investment Authority, in Morocco.)

The winner of the competition wins over 1.3 million dollars.  Whether she triumphs or not, Hillal has made her mark and given hope to women and writers in all repressed countries, and elsewhere.

The mysterious reasons why artists create have been discussed and written about since man first drew or sang or told a story.  Some are convinced, as musicians like Mahler and Beethoven were, that creativity was a portal to the divine mystery of life's infinite meaning.  Others feel a need to express their unique humanity, and leave something of themselves to the world.  Some have a craving for the most complete and unexplainable of satisfactions by entertaining or impressing those who appreciate their artistic medium.  Others believe it is a way to make sense out of, and soothe the pain of, a world out of control, before the finality of life's end. 


Whatever the motivation, the best of creative work, for me, allows me to see the world differently, and brings me in touch with the better part of myself.  I also get inspired to use my own wings in creative flight.  I write because I want to make people feel something, even change something for the better.  This unusual story of Hissa Hillal has stuck with me.  I am reminded that ordinary people of modest backgrounds can inspire.

Here, then, is a sample of Hissa Hillal's winning poetry, translated into English:

“I have seen evil from the eyes of the subversive fatwas in a time when what is lawful is confused with what is not lawful;


When I unveil the truth, a monster appears from his hiding place; barbaric in thinking and action, angry and blind; wearing death as a dress and covering it with a belt [referring to suicide bombing];


He speaks from an official, powerful platform, terrorising people and preying on everyone seeking peace; the voice of courage ran away and the truth is cornered and silent, when self-interest prevented one from speaking the truth.”

Film Reviews: "Greenberg" Good Ideas With Little Movement

The opening five minutes of Noah Baumbach's "Greenberg" put me in a state of blissful anticipation.  The camera, in the driver's seat of a moving car, is trained on the profile of co-star Greta Gerwig, as if in sweet tribute to a calm and lovely soul. Steve Miller's rollicking 1970's music creates an upbeat mood, introducing a theme of living in the past and eventually letting go of it.  We learn that Gerwig's character, Florence, is the housekeeper and caretaker to the Greenbergs, a family of rich, educated pseudo-intellectuals (their walls are lined with books and they have a German Shepherd named Mahler). The family prepares for a vacation to Vietnam (another '70's allusion), in a wonderfully written and directed scene of haphazard packing and last minute home-and-dog-care instruction. The man's brother, Roger (Ben Stiller), has just been released from a hospital to recover from a nervous breakdown, and will stay at the house while the family is away.


So we have the promise of a meditation on the madness of modern life; a developing relationship between the obsessive and unlikeable Roger and the mellow and vulnerable Florence; a study of one man's attempt to reconcile his dearly-held '70's values with the self-absorption of the 2010's; the immediacy of caring for a domestic animal and its restorative power; a look at characters trapped between generations, who find no place where they belong; and how two of these people find each other, and in so doing find their places in the world.

Well, these ideas are all presented in "Greenberg", but the promises go largely unfulfilled: the '70's music and ambience retreat quickly, the mood becomes airless in a badly-improvised sort of way, and nothing is dramatized so much as over-discussed.  That's because the film lacks narrative movement.  There is a lot of detail and incident, but large sections of the film feel like dead space, and the pieces don't come together into anything like a satisfying mosaic. It's a shame because a good film can be made about a modern adult comparing his youthful life to the lives of today's young, or coming to grips with the regret of bad decisions made in the past. 

"Greenberg" plays like a Woody Allen film with the wit completely sucked out of it, or a super-neurotic version of 1970's "Five Easy Pieces".  I was particularly reminded of the latter, which analyzed a character (played by Jack Nicholson in a robust and essential performance) who has his feet in two different worlds but who cannot find peace or happiness in either.  Stiller's character clings to the'70's superficially through music and activism, although he wasn't particularly satisfied then, either, having quit a band that might have been his ticket to success.  Now, trying desperately to slow down and "do nothing", Greenberg is merely unpleasant, and inert. Stiller has nothing as dynamic to play as the character of Bobby DuPea in "Pieces", and so his performance alternates between resigned perplexity and startling anger.  It's an alienating character, but Stiller finds an occasional softness that compels us to keep watching him.   

The early sections of the film show Baumbach's breezy control and ironic humor.  Later, as ideas are introduced, then sort of abandoned, the movie loses its sure touch, and we're stuck with an unpleasant central character, who makes occasionally pithy observations, and seduces and then emotionally abuses his innocent love interest.  Gerwig is especially fine here, although her character is mismanaged at the script level; it is difficult to imagine a person who is so self-effacing and passive having the gumption and competence to satisfy her difficult and demanding employer.  To her credit, Gerwig underplays strategically, draws the viewer to her, and elicits most of the laughs and viewer sympathy. She tells us more about Florence with a quirky line reading, or a deceptively vacuous gaze, than the script deserves for her to reveal.

The character of Florence is an inarticulate Annie Hall, a slacker version of Geena Davis' dog trainer in "Accidental Tourist", a character who is the quirky and emotional center of the film.  The worst scene in "Greenberg" seems ripped off from one of the best scenes in "Annie Hall", in which Florence begins an anecdote that becomes a hopelessly shaggy-dog story.  While Allen tied up the scene with great comic timing and gave the addled character her dignity, Baumbach allows Stiller to fly into a rage, out of nowhere, to the embarrassment and distress of Florence, and the film almost doesn't recover from the emotional violence of the scene. 

But her simple and direct care for the dog Mahler foreshadows the eventual unconditional regard for Greenberg, which lands him gently at the threshold of his purpose.  Without using the dog as a mawkish device, it becomes a focus for both characters, a symbol of the value of damaged personalities if given the right support and regard.  Greenberg's intermittent building of a doghouse for Mahler suggests his eventual redemption. This motif works.

This is a film that seems better in retrospect...the tapestry of ennui and hope play  more vividly in memory than they did on the screen, and the dead spots have retreated from view.  The few humorous moments stand out in relief, and the performances of Gerwig and Stiller, as well as Greenberg's best buddy Rhys Ifans, have earned my admiration. It's a Mumblecore film with great production values (mumblecore is a filmmaking movement from the early 2000's characterized by low budgets, apathetic or unemployed 20-something characters who talk about their relationships and failed lives, all with the fashionably ascetic patina of "independent film").  I have heard of viewers' dissatisfaction with the abrupt ending; to me, it was a perfect conclusion, although unfortunately, the best part of the story is the one that I assume will be told after the final blackout.

Award Season Continues: The Peabody Awards Honor Outstanding Work in Broadcasting

Many of us have heard of the Peabody Awards for excellence in electronic media.  Yet few know the interesting history of the award, nor the especially rich archive of winners in radio, televsion, and now internet broadcasting and web sites.

This past Wednesday, the Award recipients were announced from the Organization's home in Atlanta, where the prize was first established in 1940.  Broadcast networks and news organizations from all over the world have been cited for their merit for 2009: CBS with "60 Minutes", WFLD-TV in Chicago, BBC World News, npr.org, "Modern Family" and "Glee", "Late Night With Craig Ferguson (interview with Desmond Tutu), ABC News, "Sesame Street", GMA Phillipines and Korean Broadcasting, HBO with "The No, 1 Ladies detective Agency", stories from Appalachia and Afghanistan, PBS Frontline and the Madoff Affair, and Independent Lens, The Sundance Channel...In short, a terrific array of work, worthy of recognition and preservation.

Click Here for a complete list of this year's winners.  The official ceremony to honor the recipients will occur in New York on May 17. Host Diane Sawyer will be honored as well for her work on a story filmed in Appalachia.

Here's an award with a rich history.  The list of past recipients forms a valuable and entertaining record of broadcasting at its finest.  Those who enjoy the art of broadcasting, or care about the industry, or are entertained and enlightened by electronic media, or even those of us who follow show-business awards, really gain a lot by knowing more about the Peabody organization and the work that has been recognized by it.  I would love to see this kind of award achieve the popularity and dialog often lavished on more commercial award events.

The complete and incredible list of all winners since 1940 can be found by Clicking Here.  I find it as interesting as the Oscar and Tony Award Archives, as it provides a great timeline to popular culture and zeitgeist year by year.

Here is a brief history of the  Peabody Awards taken from the organization's website, http://www.peabody.uga.edu/

In 1939, the National Association of Broadcasters formed a committee to recognize outstanding achievement in radio broadcasting. Committee member Lambdin Kay, manager of WSB in Atlanta, thought the award would be more credible if it were academically sanctioned and independently administered. He approached John E. Drewry of the University of Georgia’s Henry W. Grady School of Journalism, who enthusiastically endorsed the idea.

The Peabody Award was established in 1940 with the school, now the Grady College of Journalism and Mass Communication, as its permanent home.

The awards, long considered among the most prestigious prizes in electronic media, recognize distinguished achievement and meritorious service by radio and television networks, stations, producing organizations, cable television organizations and individuals. Though there is no set number of awards, no more than 36 have ever been presented in a single year.

George Foster Peabody, born in 1852 in Columbus, Georgia, moved with his family to New York after the Civil War. Largely self-educated, Peabody became a successful banker and supporter of humanitarian causes, especially education. He helped finance a library, a forestry school, and a classroom building at the University of Georgia and was the school’s first non-resident trustee. In appreciation, the University awarded him an honorary degree and named the new broadcasting award for him.

Can You Believe It? Animals, Opera, and Outrageousness for Thursday, AFD

Part 1. From my Arizona Photo Album:  While we hiked last month through Papago Park near Scottsdale, we caught sight of the rare jackalope, and snappped this incredible photograph:

This strange animal is a hybrid of the pygmy-deer and a species of "killer rabbit".  Preferring hot dry weather, they can be observed (when they can be seen at all) in the desert Southwest, especially the Sonoran desert of Arizona. Jackalopes are extremely shy. Legend also has it that female jackalopes can be milked as they sleep belly up and that the milk can be used for a variety of medicinal purposes. In some parts of the United States it is said that jackalope meat has a taste similar to lobster; once roasted, a well-prepared jackalope is so tender it comes apart with a gentle pulling of the leg. 

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Part 2. Latest Movie News:

International Opera Star Renee Fleming has been cast in the lead in James Cameron's new bio-pic of the eccentric '60's pop diva, Mrs. Elva Miller.  Fleming was not available for immediate comment. She had earlier admitted that Mrs. Miller was an early "inspiration" to her own art, revealing that Miller's artistic genius led her to incorporate a hearty belly laugh into her own pre-performance warm-ups. Pundits and critics are anticipating this movie more eagerly than Anne Hathaway's turn as Judy Garland.

Cameron enthused that cutting-edge 3-D technology will be employed for total immersion into the life of this beloved American singer.  "Fleming's singing style is surprisingly similar to Miller's", Cameron said. "They open their mouths and sound comes out.  In CGI and 3D, as she belts out a tune, one can almost reach out and squeeze Elva's zaftivg figure, and grab her trembling uvula. The way her salivary spray hovers and floats in front of the viewer will be quite an effect."

There will be some challenges; Cameron believes he might need another 4-5 years for technology to allow him to morph the beauty of Fleming into the earthy appeal of Miller (see below).  "Motion capture can only go so far at this time," Cameron admitted.

SNEAK PREVIEW:  Fleming is a great interpreter of song.  Click below to hear her, as Mrs. Miller, do a popular rendition of Bach's "Minuet in G Major"

Thanks to all you good sports...