Showing posts with label animation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label animation. Show all posts

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Cranberry Christmas

Working in a library, I am well acquainted with the Cranberryport series written by Wende and Harry Devlin.  Yet I was surprised, but pleased, to find out that the appropriate book had been turned into an animated Christmas special, and that it was available online.  Unfortunately, I couldn't seem to get it to load except on random occasions, but I did eventually get to see it.
The special is all right, but it is quite obviously animated in Flash, which I found distracting at times.  The voice acting is pretty good, but Rob Paulsen is just too high pitched for Mr. Whiskers.  Reading the books, I always imagined him with a much deeper voice.  Scott McNeil using his Chief Thunder Hooves voice would have been a better match, in my opinion, but ah well.  But there is just one major thing about it that bugs me, and that is the expanded role of Cyrus Grape.  In the book, Mr. Grape only shows up at the beginning and end of the book, claiming ownership of a skating pond and forbidding anyone to use it.  Mr. Whiskers disagrees with this, but has no way to prove Mr. Grape doesn't own the pond, until, in the course of cleaning up for his sister's visit, he comes across a deed which proves the pond is actually on his property.  In the special, Mr. Whiskers and Cyrus both claim ownership of the pond, which leads to Cyrus examining his deed and finding no mention of the pond.  Which in turn leads to him sneaking around outside Mr. Whisker's house and talking to the camera a lot, plus sabotaging Mr. Whisker's house cleaning to the tune of a "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch"-like song  (Barry Manilow is no Thurl Ravenscroft, but the song is kind of catchy), all to keep Mr. Whiskers from finding his deed.
I should mention that there is precedent for this expansion.  Cranberry Christmas is the fourth book in the series, and the second appearance of Cyrus Grape.  While in this book, he's mostly just a curmudgeon, in his first appearance (Cranberry Halloween) and later appearances, he doesn't hesitate to try something shady.  So it makes sense to use him being up to no good as a way to expand the book into a 24-minute television special.  Knowing this, I still find it annoying.  Probably because all the Cyrus sneaking around stuff means that Mr. Whiskers freaking out about Maggie and her grandmother cleaning out his house is pretty much eliminated, and that actually would have been pretty funny to hear in Rob Paulsen's voice.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Hoops and Yoyo Christmas Special?

Don't know if anyone else is interested in this, but I figured I'd spread the word.  In the grand tradition of greeting card characters getting animated specials, CBS is going to be airing a Christmas special starring Hoops and Yoyo, aptly titled "Hoops and Yoyo Ruin Christmas," on November 25th.  You can read more about it and watch a trailer on the official page.

Friday, October 28, 2011

The Lorax Movie Trailer finally debuts

Back in July, a work-in-progress trailer for upcoming Lorax movie was uploaded to youtube, but Universal had it taken down right quick, along with any images that people had used to blog about it.  I completely missed this, so I was glad to catch it when a chinese site leaked it again last month, though once again Universal had it taken down almost immediately.  So it's probably in light of these leaks that the official trailer has finally been released.


Some parts are a little different from what was in the leaked trailer, and some things were left out, specifically one scene where the Once-ler accuses Ted of just doing this for a girl.  And the scene at the end of this trailer with (I assume) the Once-ler's relatives wasn't in the leaked trailer at all.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

What I Watch Recently

I finally got around to watching the movie of A Series of Unfortunate Events.  I enjoyed the book series, but for one reason or another, I just wasn't in a hurry to check out the movie version.  Probably a good thing in this case, as I've forgotten most of the finer details of books, so I probably enjoyed the movie more than I would have otherwise.  In truth, the reason I finally got down to watching it was less because of the book series and more because of the all-star cast, including a surprise Jane Lynch:
She's only on-screen for a few seconds, but that's still a definite plus.  Also a plus for me, the DVD included not one, but two commentaries, both interesting in their own right.  The first one, with just the director (Brad Silberling), was the better of the two as far as I'm concerned, and a lot better than most commentaries I listen to.  It was a near perfect blend of background information, how certain effects were pulled off, and why certain story elements were changed.  Very informative.  The second commentary, between the director and Lemony Snicket, author of the books, was occasionally funny, but the script needed a little work.  For one thing, Silberling kept flipflopping between actually forgetting what happened during the shooting and leading Snicket on just to be a jerk, and really, he should have picked one or the other.  For another, too much of it was just Snicket moaning and groaning due to the aforementioned Silberling stuff.  But I can forgive it all due to the absolute funniest thing I've ever encountered on a commentary track: Lemony Snicket, to avoid paying attention to the film, playing the accordion and singing about leeches.

I also rented Gnomeo and Juliet, and was surprised that I actually liked it.  I mean, I was surprised that I liked it enough to watch it again almost immediately, even though there wasn't any commentary track, which is usually the only reason I rewatch a movie these days.  Of course, now I've been going around with Crocodile Rock permanently stuck in my head (when it isn't taken over by Equestria Girls).   While I liked the movie overall, I'm annoyed that *spoilers* Tybalt came back during the Dance Party Ending.  For one thing, it cheapened his death, and for another, he wasn't a character who particularly needed to come back.  But on the other hand, I seem to remember the commentary on Monster House mentioning that they had to have a scene where all the people "eaten" by the house came back in order to keep the movie PG, so that could be the reason for it.  Still doesn't mean I have to like it.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

New Image from The Lorax

As you may or may not know, the same folks responsible for this past summer's Despicable Me are working on a film version of The Lorax, and they recently released an image from the upcoming film, seen above.  Now is it just me, or does that seem to be a female version of Pontoffel Pock?  Seriously, the hair, the upturned nose, the same friggin shirt.  There isn't any word on who this character is yet (the movie doesn't come out until next May), but a first look from USA Today points toward her being a character named Audrey.   As far as I'm concerned, she's the daughter of Pontofel and Neepha Pheepha (apparently, that's how her name is spelled), though I doubt this will be brought up in the movie.

Friday, December 24, 2010

Last Year's Holiday Story

I consider myself a casual South Park fan, mostly because I didn't actually get into the show (besides catching episodes here and there) until last year, mostly due to my husband randomly watching the reruns (which is how he watches most shows).  So it was about this time last year when he had on the episode "Mr. Hankey's Christmas Classics."  I was doing something else, not really paying attention, until this segment started:


I was shocked, shocked I say, for despite having never seen this episode before in my life, I knew the sequence by heart, though not exactly as it appeared on the show.  You see, a few years ago, I discovered the Carols For a Cure CD series, a charity offering where every year the current casts of various Broadway shows (and the occasional Off-Broadway show and special guests) record a track, and the profits go to help fight aids.  And in 2003, guess what the cast of Hairspray did:
The joke here being that Marc Shaiman, who wrote the music and co-wrote the lyrics for Hairspray, worked with Trey Parker and Matt Stone on the songs for that episode, which originally aired in 1999.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

I Remember Disney Movies Past

There's been a bit of a kerfuffle over Disney's upcoming CG fairytale being renamed from Rapunzel to Tangled, and that got me thinking about past Disney fairytales. Then I saw the trailer for Waking Sleeping Beauty, and that made me want to make a blog post. So this is mostly just random things that come to mind when I think of Disney movies in relation to my childhood, along with a few random observations.
I grew up during the Disney Renaissance. The absolute earliest memory I have of seeing a movie in a theater is from Oliver and Company (I don't remember the whole movie, but the chase scene near the end has always remained in my memory). When The Little Mermaid came out, or rather, when it came out on VHS, it was specifically given to me as a present, but my younger sister took to watching it religiously, and to this day my older sister can still quote the movie word-for-word thanks to those watchings. Eventually it dawned on me that since the video had been given to me, I could control when we watched it, and after that we didn't watch it quite so much.
Considering the quick turnaround of movies coming out in a theater and then being released on DVD we have these days, it's weird to remember that it used to be six months to a year. I recall getting Beauty and the Beast on VHS for Christmas and then going to see Aladdin a few days later back in 1992. And now, The Princess and the Frog is coming out on DVD in just a few weeks. Amazing how things have changed.
When The Lion King came out, my younger sister got a sing-along cassette of the songs, but when I heard the radio version of "Can You Feel the Love Tonight," I had to own the actual soundtrack. And since this was the summer when my sisters were forced to give a third of their birthday money to me, I actually had money in the summer for change, and thus I was able to buy it myself. I was rather proud of that, and I'm pretty sure I still have that cassette somewhere. (As for why my sisters had to give me money, I had used all my birthday money earlier in the year to buy a Sega Genesis with Sonic 2, and my parents felt it was fair that my sisters pay their part as well, since we all used it. Which makes sense, but I hadn't expected that, so it was a bit of windfall for me.) I wasn't compelled to buy the soundtrack to another Disney movie until Mulan, but that was partially because my younger sister got the soundtrack to The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Speaking of that movie, the summer that it came out, my family took a trip down to Williamsburg, and on the return trip, Mom gave my sisters and I whiteboards to draw on. For a reason I can no longer remember, we got obsessed with coming up with scenarios for the gargoyle characters (with Laverne as Hugo's Abhorrent Admirer mostly), which somehow gave way to drawing parodies of the titles of musicals with Hugo inserted (i.e. Hugo on the Roof, Kiss Me, Hugo). When we got home, my older sister re-drew the best ones in Fine Artist, though those have all been lost to time by now.
My sisters and I were disappointed by Hercules, though it took a while for us to figure out exactly why. After some debate, we chalked it up to Hades not getting a villain song, reasoning that all the Disney movies in recent years gave a song to the villain (even McLeach from The Rescuers Down Under had a very short one), and this one didn't, so that must be the key.
Speaking of songs in Hercules, I was looking up the voices in that movie just the other day, and was amused (no pun intended) to see that one of the muses (the short one) has gone on to voice Bubie in The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack. Another muse was voiced by LaChanze, which I note only because I recently got the OBC of Once on This Island, which is where she had her first starring role.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Katy Caterpillar

Sometime in my childhood, I saw an animated film called "Katy Caterpillar" (probably on the Disney Channel, they showed a lot of really random stuff back then), but I never saw it again, though I wanted to, mostly because of the Just For Kids video previews that showed the sequel movie, "Katy and the Katerpillar Kids." Most of what I remembered was just the ending, where Katy escapes her mean sisters by knitting herself a cocoon and transforming into a butterfly, with her sisters trying to squeeze themselves into the cocoon as she flew away.
Well, like most things these days, someone put it up on youtube, so I was finally able to see it again. But in this case, I think it might have been better left as a memory. The movie follows Katy, who leaves the safety of her cherry tree because she finds it boring, but is almost instantly set upon by a pair of crows and has to be saved by The Spirit of Nature (not anthropomorphized, though, just a glowing ball of light). The Spirit of Nature sends Katy off on a quest to find her true self and be transformed, and thus Katy has a series of adventures highlighting the jerks of the forest. A busty spider teaches her to knit, though she gets out of there quickly when she learns the spider eats bugs (whether the spider intended to eat Katy is not made clear), then she is snubbed by chameleons, conscripted to work as a bee (though she did kinda walk into it), swindled by a frog, and saved by those crows again, who are prevented from eating her by the intervention of a cat chasing a mouse. She convinces the mouse to follow his dreams and visit the city, where they visit a mouse disco and save the crows from being canned in a tomato factory, and in gratitude they fly Katy and the mouse back to the forest. There, she encounters The Spirit of Nature again, and though she still doesn't know what she wants to be, she knows what she wants to do, which is fly without being a bee. That's good enough for The Spirit of Nature, so it gives Katy a book on how to become a butterfly, which she carries back to the cherry tree and reads, then knits her cocoon. I mostly remembered the ending correctly, except only one of the sisters was mean, and Katy wasn't really escaping them. But she does go back and visit the friends she made along her journey.
So yeah, it wasn't that fantastic, and I really only made it through the film to see the end, since part of my memory of it involved her learning what she needed to do from the mouse (which didn't happen) and using the button the frog sold her (which also didn't happen, as she abandons it soon after she gets it). So it ends up being a bit of a shaggy dog story, as the only thing she really uses on her journey to become a butterfly is the knitting from the spider, and that might have been written in the book. I just can't get over that, you know. A caterpillar has to learn how to become a butterfly from a book. The Spirit of Nature has a book to give her. That's one of the weirdest cop-out endings I've ever seen.
The voice acting is not the best here, nor are the songs that great, besides Katy's theme, but I'm mostly blaming this on the fact that the movie is actually from Mexico, and rewriting songs is always hit or miss.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs End Credits

When I first saw Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, I missed the very beginning, but when I saw the opening title, I knew it was going to be an awesome movie. However, it was the end credits that left me wanting the DVD to be out OMG NOW! But now, they've been posted on youtube, so I can watch to my heart's content:


Art of the Title Sequence has an interview with Yellowshed, who put the end credits together, which reveals that the sequence was originally going to be set to the title song from Xanadu (and there's an animatic on the page that shows an alternate version of the credits set to the song). So I've been amusing myself by playing that song while watching the actual end credits, and I think I kind of like that better. No offense to Raining Sunshine or anything.
Edit: Someone has the end credits synched to the song! You can see it here.

And while I'm talking about Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, I want to give a plug to probably the only CWaCoM-dedicated forum out there, Flint Lockwood's Lab.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Random Thoughts about Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs

Just a couple of things that have been floating around my head about Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs. There are spoilers here, but as it's been out in theaters for over a month and will be on DVD in just about two months (January 5th! Yes!), I feel that it's safe enough to post. If you don't want to be spoiled, feel free to skip this.

Toward the end of the movie, as Flint heads off to stop the FLDSMDFR, he ends up putting together a Five Man Band of himself, Sam, Manny, Steve, and Brent, and this is how I see it breaking down:
Flint is The Hero, obviously.
Manny is The Lancer, with his cool and collected manner acting in contrast to, well, everyone else, really.
Sam is both The Smart Guy (she's the one with the Doppler Weather Radar 2000 Turbo, after all) and The Chick.
Steve is the Team Pet, also obviously.
Brent starts off as the Tagalong Kid, seeing as he basically invites himself along (and this is made especially clear when, after asking about his part in the plan, Flint tells him he can be "President of the Back Seat"), but he becomes The Big Guy with his rebirth as Chicken Brent.
Kind of makes me want to see a TV series of them going around, solving weird problems. In that case, Flint and Sam would share Smart Guy responsibilities.

I remember reading somewhere that in Disney's Beauty and the Beast, the character of Gaston was made to specifically be the Beast's opposite, not just physically but also in the sense that Gaston at first seems charming but has a hidden dark side while the Beast seems frightening at first but has a hidden softer side. I mention this because I think that this same sort of thing holds true for Flint and Brent.
First off, there's their roles in the town. At the start of the movie, Brent is effortlessly adored by the whole town, and has been since infanthood, while Flint, despite his best efforts, is not very well-liked by anyone. With the success of the FLDSMDFR, their roles begin to reverse, until the world is cheering Flint's name and the same people who once delighted in Brent now have no respect for him.
Secondly, there's the matter of their appearances. The most obvious is that Flint is a basically stick thin while Brent is...not. At all. The next obvious contrast is their hair colors, brown for Flint and blonde for Brent. Not to mention Flint has these huge hands, whereas Brent's hands are much smaller, especially in comparison to the rest of him. However, there are also a number of things that they have in common lookswise. According to The Art and Making of Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, Brent and Flint are the only characters built all the way down to their toes (as Flint's spray-on shoes are slightly translucent and Brent always wears sandals). They both have that crazy hair thing going on, and they both have blue eyes (granted, so do most of the characters).
I find it kind of interesting that in the first scenes of the movie, where we see both Flint and Brent as children (I'm guessing seven or so), Flint looks basically the same as he will as an adult, head-shape and hair-wise, but Brent has neater hair and a rounder head as a child. Yet, they both already have the outfits they will wear throughout their lives: Brent is wearing a monogrammed blue tracksuit, and Flint is given a professional grade labcoat, although he still has to grow into it.

Friday, October 30, 2009

Elefun and Friends?

Well, my Blockbuster blues are slightly cured, as one of my discs finally came today, the official debut of the new MLP style in animation, Twinkle Wish Adventure. I'll be blogging that one soon, but before I get to it, I'm taking a quick look at a bonus short that was included on the DVD. Titled "Elefun and Friends," it is apparently a tie-in to games like (natch) Elefun, Gator Golf, and Hungry, Hungry Hippos. At first I thought it would be your typical, run-of-the-mill, children's show, and while it does generally follow that format, it put in some scenes that surprised me.


I mean, to start off with, the short begins with Elefun and his roommate Froggio getting some breakfast, while a lighthearted tune plays in the background. Froggio gets the spoons and starts drumming along to the tune on a piece of furniture, then jumps onto Elefun's head and starts drumming on him. Elefun doesn't seem to mind, but then he suddenly trumpets, blowing the frog off his head and into a coconut bowl. While Elefun just watches, their butterfly friends pour first cereal and then milk in both bowls, right on top of Froggio. Guess Elefun wasn't so keen on being a drum after all. Shortly thereafter, Elefun goes out for a morning swim, and upon seeing the empty pond suddenly fill up with all manner of animals, he cannonballs into the pond, splashing everyone else out quite intentionally. Sheesh.
The main plot kicks off when Elefun finds a kite shaped like a dragon stuck in a tree. Rather than send Froggio or the butterflies up to get it out, he decides that following the string to its origin will help him to get it unstuck. If you say so, Elefun. As Elefun states his dedication to following the string, even through jungles and deserts, Froggio begs out, only for Elefun to fix him with a withering glare until he agrees to come along. After that, things are pretty run-of-the-mill, with Elefun following the string through different countries, picking up the occasional companion, and learning the word "friend" in different languages. It isn't until they reach the actual end of the string in China that things pick up again. That's where they encounter a purple panda trying to treebuchet using bamboo over a river to the end of the string. She only gets halfway, leading this this exchange:
Elefun: Wha'cha doing?
Pandarama: Sipping tea. What does it look like I'm doing?
Spin: Sinking.
Pandarama: Who asked you?
Elefun then goes on to introduce himself and his hangers-on to her, and when he asks if she wants to be friends, she instantly replies, "No!" although she does backtrack, as she slips toward the water, "So, let's just say I want to be friends, not saying for sure, but pretend I do. What does that get me?" That's good enough for Elefun, and he devices a plan to help her across: she can slide down Giraffalaff's neck. Giraffalaff objects to this, though not because Elefun's being awfully presumptuous here, but because he has an embarrassing secret (and amusingly, when he asks Elefun if he can keep a secret, Froggio pops up to say, "Well, no," and Giraffalaff rebukes him, "I wasn't whispering to you!"), which everyone finds out anyway: he's afraid of heights (and sure enough, he's kept his head low the entire time). He even goes off on a soliloquy about how he hates eating the brown leaves on the ground, but the green leaves are too high for him, prompting the panda, still hanging from her bamboo, to ask him to solve his lunch woes later. Eventually he sticks his neck out and rescues Pandarama. With their friendship cemented, Elefun calls her a friend, and Pandarama corrects him with "朋友", pronounced "peng you," as Froggio explains to the audience, although not to Elefun, leading to this:
Elefun: Peng You is a pretty name.
Pandarama: My name is Pandarama.
Elefun: Then who's Peng You?
Pandarama: You!
Elefun: No, I'm Elefun.
There are a few more hijinks that ensue to finish up the episode, but that's basically the end of the good stuff. Pandarama was seriously the best part of the short, and voiced by Katie Leigh, although I really wouldn't have placed her without looking. The animation is done by Renegade Studios, who also did The Mr. Men Show, which I mention because a few of the voices also come from that show (Phil Lollar, Danny Katiana, and the previously mentioned Katie Leigh). While the animation itself is fluid, the edges on the characters are occasionally choppy, most noticably on Elefun. I don't know if I would check out a whole series of this, but I would definitely make a point to watch a few Pandarama-centric episodes, especially if the writing perks up a bit.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

It Just Bugs Me: The Busy World of Richard Scarry

I'm getting right down to business this time around. When I was younger, my sister and I watched a fair amount of Nick Jr., and almost always watched The Busy World of Richard Scarry. Which is why, to this day, I still burn with rage when I remember the terrible inaccuracies about different cultures and world history they fed to unsuspecting children. The show was in a "three shorts" format, and while most featured the gang from the Busytown books going about their Busytown lives, there would be the occasionally story about recurring detective characters (there were at least two different ones, if I recall correctly) or historical events. Only, as I said before, they were not anything close to the truth.
I don't remember the detective stories well enough to have that much rage against them, except for one, where the female detective went to China and had to solve the case of the kidnapped noodle chef. Only, it turned out that the guy who kidnapped the chef only did it because he always slurped his noodles and got banned from the restaurant for doing that (I think). Only, and even as a kid I knew this piece of information, in China and Japan you're supposed to slurp your noodles. It's a sign that you're enjoying your food. *headdesk*
But it's the show's attempts to tell a historical story that really brings up the ire in me. I mean, according to The Busy World of Richard Scarry, sandwiches were invented because the Earl of Sandwich's servant got distracted and forgot to wash the gloves aristocrats wore to eat food (what?), Amerigo Vespucci was a stowaway on Christopher Columbus' ship, and Michelangelo painted the Sistine Chapel's ceiling because he couldn't get the Pope (or maybe just a Father) to stop messing with the mural he was doing on the walls. There are more, but those are the ones I remember best.
I guess what really bothers me about these gross inaccuracies is simply that I don't understand why the show's producers thought it was necessary to completely change the story of history, or why they wanted to include historical segments anyway. It just makes no sense.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

The Princess and the Frog featurettes

Sometime last week, the Disney Channel ran these featurettes on The Princess and the Frog, and someone was nice enough to put them up on Youtube:

Intro:



The Directors:


The Characters:


The Music:


Spotlight on the Prince:


Full scene from the movie:


I gotta say, the more I see of this film, the better it looks. Seriously, I need a copy of the soundtrack now. No word on when it's going to be released, but since the movie is coming out in November, and the soundtrack usually comes out before the movie, I'm guessing that it'll be released sometime in October.

Friday, May 15, 2009

The Princess and the Frog official trailer

While the teaser trailer came out back last July, the official trailer for The Princess and the Frog only just came out this week, and is being hosted by Apple.  The animation looks great, and as Disney's return to 2D animation, I'm looking forward to it.  But is it just me, or do an awful lot of Disney trailer start by harkening back to past projects?  I mean, besides this one, the ones that come straight to mind include Lilo and Stitch, WALL-E, and The Little Mermaid, but I know there are more.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Late Night Video - Computer Warriors Rap



This one is really quite strange. It's like they filmed a normal 'behind the scenes' featurette for Computer Warriors (I never heard of the show, nor the corresponding toy line, before seeing this video), and then somebody made it into a YTPMV (Youtube Poop Music Video). Still, I find it kind of interesting to see old school computer animation work being done. (But I couldn't take the rap for more than three minutes at a time.) Oh, and that guy Bill Kroyer? He directed Fern Gully: the Last Rainforest.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Barbie and the Diamond Castle

So, my perversest curiosity piqued from the research I did last week, I went ahead and rented Barbie and the Diamond Castle. And I have to say, it was not terrible. In fact, I'd say it was okay, although that didn't stop me from being bothered by certain things:
  • The lack of development of the muses. Not really the characters, but their way of life. I mean, all we know about them is that they live in a diamond castle that is supposedly the birthplace of music, and the three muses played music together. Aren't muses supposed to go out and inspire? Maybe that's what the apprentices did, and that's why a diamond would appear on the walls whenever a new songs was created, as proof that the apprentices weren't slacking off.
  • And why does everyone assume that Lydia will take over the world if she gets the diamond castle? As far as I can recall (and I only watched it once, so maybe I missed it somewhere), the only thing she wanted to rule was music. And how does ruling music turn the world into "shadows and sorrow," anyway? I'm thinking this plan was not too well thought out. Either that or Melody was being overdramatic.
  • Speaking of music, the contemporary songs in a decidedly noncontemporary time was really jarring. I mean, I can forgive the first one, since it was Barbie and Teresa shoehorning the song they were writing into the story, but the others have no excuse. Especially not the twins' one.
  • And the dogs dancing in an anthropomorphic manner bugged me so very, very much. I know that the story takes place in a world with all manner of things that aren't real, but other than the dancing, the dogs mostly acted like nonanthropomorphic dogs, which is why it bugged me.
  • Why didn't the girls grow any vegetables? Then they could make their own mashed potatoes. And since potatoes grow underground, they wouldn't have gotten ruined by the storm. Same with carrots.
  • While Kathleen Barr did a good job as Lydia, I can't help but think there was just something a little off in her portrayal.
  • And why was Stacie having a fight with Courtney? She's supposed to be Skipper's best friend, not Stacie's! (The only reason I feel this strongly about it, though, is my older sister had the Courtney doll.) Speaking of Skipper, whatever happened to her?
And a couple of observations:
  • Looking at the flashback scene again, I can certainly see why Lydia wanted to go off on her own. She was already playing most of the melody of their songs while the other two just plunked away on a lyre and lute. If that's how most of their songs were, it's easy to imagine why she'd think the other two were superflous.
  • I honestly was hoping that the seeds the muses gave the girls at the end would be vegetable seeds, but no.
  • Oh, Scott McNeil, you must love that voice. This is the third time I've heard you use it.
  • And listening to Melody is like listening to a slightly less-hyper Ooka every time. I tried to not hear it, but it was impossible (I mean, that's a lot of the reason that I had to watch this movie in the first place, but still).

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Christmas edition: Cricket on the Hearth

I recently picked up that DVD of "The Original Christmas Classics" from Rankin/Bass, although it dubiously includes "Frosty Returns" as one of those 'classics' (why not "Frosty's Winter Wonderland" instead?  At least that one is old enough to be thought of as a classic).  It also included a special from 1967 that I had never heard of, "Cricket on the Hearth," which is based on a story written by Charles Dickens.

In this special, an old cricket tells the audience about his younger days, and how he came to live with the Plummers, father Caleb and daughter Bertha, who make their living making and selling toys.  As it usually is with these stories, Bertha is engaged to a young man named Edward, who is commissioned in the Royal Navy, but is lost at sea near the beginning of the story.  This news renders Bertha blind, and Caleb spends all his money on doctors for her, but to no avail.  Eventually they end up just one step away from the poorhouse, until Caleb gets work with a crooked toy factory owner, Mr. Tackleton.
For Bertha's sake, Caleb pretends that they are doing better than they are, making him and the cricket effectively living in two different worlds.  I don't really get how Bertha was fooled by this, especially since they were eating Tackleton's scraps.  Then again, she may have been aware of what her father was doing and just humored him, but this isn't made apparent in the special.  Anyway, things get moving again when Caleb runs into an old, homeless man and takes him in.  The way he says Bertha's name makes her gasp, though she can't explain why.  Hm...

On Christmas Eve, Tackleton proposes to Bertha, but gives her some time to think about it.  She's of a mind to accept, since her father has described Tackleton as a better man than he actually is.  The old, homeless man comes to tell her something, but loses his nerve after Bertha announces her intentions to wed "the most wonderful man in the whole world."  Determined not to let Bertha marry Tackleton, the cricket gets in the way of the couple that afternoon, so Tackleton commands his pet crow to eliminate the cricket.  The crow, meanwhile, hires some thugs from an animal bar to get rid of the cricket.  The thugs capture the cricket and mean to sell him to a sea captain who sells crickets on the black market in China, but the captain shoots them both instead.  Meanwhile, the cricket manages to escape and makes it back to the shop just as the clock strikes midnight on Christmas Eve, which makes the toys magically come to life for one hour.  The cricket rallies them to help him stop Bertha from marrying Tackleton.  They lead him to the old, homeless man, sleeping just outside the shop, and they take off his disguise, revealing Edward! (The cricket is shocked.)  The toys also start telling the cricket about how Edward came to be where he is, but their time runs out before they can tell the whole story.  

Fortunately for the cricket, Edward wakes up, his face chilled by lack of beard, and tells the cricket the rest of the story.  Apparently he felt guilty about Bertha being blind, and took up a disguise to be near her without her knowing, but everytime he tried to tell her the truth, something got in the way.  The cricket doesn't buy his story, nor does he accept Edward's excuse of him being poor for why he should let Bertha marry Tackleton.  To prove that Bertha still loves Edward and only Edward, the cricket wakes her up and the two have a happy reunion, getting married first thing the next morning.  Tackleton is outraged when he hears this, but Bertha melts his heart by calling him kind, noble, and handsome (since no one has ever called him this before), and he leaves them be, full of Christmas spirit.  And that's how the cricket earned his right to be a lucky cricket on the hearth.

The special is bookended by live-action scenes of Danny Thomas, who played Caleb, while Bertha was played by his real life daughter, Marlo Thomas (of That Girl fame).  Hans Conried (whom you may recall from the post I made about him) played Tackleton, but what really made this special enjoyable was Roddy MacDowall as the cricket.  He made a very lively (and occasionally full of rage) character.
Unfortunately, he doesn't get to sing any of the songs, and it's really a shame, since only two of the songs really have anything to do with the plot.  I mean, a saloon cat gets to sing a song, but the cricket doesn't?  Not even part of his own theme song (sung by the Norman Luboff Chorus instead)?  That's just wrong.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Analyzing Pierre

This is something I've wanted to do for a while, ever since I rediscovered Really Rosie on Youtube a couple of years ago. The conceit of Really Rosie is that Rosie is auditioning her friends for a part in her "movie," but it's really an excuse to animate the Nutshell books by Maurice Sendak, set to music by Carol King. The special is from the seventies, and the animation isn't the greatest, but you can really tell that the animators were having fun.  One section in particular holds a particular interest to me, the bit about the book called Pierre.  This sequence has a lot of little things I like, which I've put in bold.

There once was a boy named Pierre
Who only would say "I don't care"
Read his story, my friend,
For you'll find at the end
That a suitable moral lies there.
The prologue isn't too interesting, as it's just Rosie gesticulating toward the window where Pierre prepares, although she is rather melodramatic. By the end of this section, the apartment building has melted away, revealing Pierre in his pajamas. With hardly any effort, he launches himself in the air and neatly cartwheels into his bed.

One day, his mother said, 
When Pierre climbed out of bed, 
"Good morning, darling boy, 
You are my only joy." 
Pierre said, "I don't care."
Pierre's mother enters and stares at him lovingly, causing Pierre to burrow into his bed, but as the song dictates, he has to get up. He merely stands on his bed, stretching and yawning, and scratches his head. His mother doesn't do much until this point, when she pats him on the head to go with her "darling boy" line. Pierre flinches and then jumps up onto his pillow for height, so his mother can't do that again, presumably, but jumps off the bed soon enough and gives his mother a dirty look before shaking his head at her and walking to the kitchen, backwards. By the time he gets there, he's wearing his normal clothes minus shoes for some reason.


"What would you like to eat?" 
"I don't care." 
"Some lovely cream of wheat?" 
"I don't care." 
"Don't sit backwards in your chair." 
"I don't care." 
"Don't pour syrup on your hair." 
"I don't care."
As his mother enters with a bowl of cream of wheat, Pierre waits for her with his elbows on the table and a cross look on his face, although he quickly leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. One suspects he doesn't care because he knows that it doesn't make a difference: he's getting cream of wheat whether he wants it or not. He turns around in his chair and shrugs at his mother, who turns her eyes toward heaven with a "why me?" expression. When Pierre pulls a pitcher of syrup from nowhere, she can only feebly point at what he's doing as he pours it on his head, his expression unchanging.

"You are acting like a clown." 
"I don't care." 
"And we have to go to town." 
"I don't care."
"Don't you want to come, my dear?" 
"I don't care." 
"Would you rather stay right here?" 
"I don't care." 
So his mother left him there.
Pierre slides off the chair and solemnly picks up the bowl and places it on top of his head, then grabs the tablecloth and whips it off the table and around himself in one deft movement. He then reaches offscreen and grabs a broom which he brandishes like a spear. His mother implores him with vague handmotions, but Pierre tips the bowlhat forward and taps his foot impatiently. He then flips the broom over and uses the handle to spin the bowl, no longer on his head. His mother, defeated, turns to leave, but watches dejectedly as Pierre throws the broom back offscreen and whips the tablecloth off himself again, but leaves before he brandishes it like a bullfighter and then flings it offscreen in the opposite direction as the broom. Once again he takes to the air, landing acrobatically upside down on a folding chair. And the whole time he just has this nonplussed expression on his face. There's nothing special about what he's doing, apparently.

His father said, 
"Get off your head 
Or I will march you up to bed." 
And Pierre said, 
"I don't care."
Unlike his mother, Pierre's father is very expressive. Seeing his son on the chair, he first starts to bend over, to look at him eye-to-eye, then thinks better of it and straightens up. He minces around a little, clasping his hands under his chin, then points to punctuate his lecture, first at Pierre and then at himself (which I never noticed until I started writing this post), then back at Pierre, and then up, as in upstairs. During all this, Pierre does some footwork, leans his butt back in the chair (which is at the head of the chair, you may recall), and then does a little shimmy. All while standing on his head on a folding chair. His father is taken aback by his son's nonchalance, and even appears worried, clasping his hands some more. Pierre does more wriggling in the chair, but I can't really describe it all.

"I would think that you could see," 
"I don't care." 
"Your head is where your feet should be." 
"I don't care." 
"If you keep standing upside down," 
"I don't care." 
"We'll never ever get to town." 
"I don't care." 
"If only you would say 'I care,'" 
"I don't care." 
"I'd let you fold the folding chair." 
"I don't care." 
While his father implores his son just as his mother did, Pierre manages to maintain his balance even without holding onto the chair. For the "head is where your feet should be" line, his father indicates Pierre's feet, and Pierre defiantly sticks his feet out at his father and waves them in his face. His father then does a weird sort of indication of "upside down" while Pierre turns himself around on the chair without his hands and still doesn't fall off. This boy has powers, yet he doesn't seem to realize it. His father clasps his hands together again and moves in a rather melodramatic fashion, and Pierre grabs his feet. Seeing this, his father crouches down and turns his head to look at his son. Pierre straightens up, but his jacket starts to fall, so he pulls it straight.

So his parents left him there. 
They didn't take him anywhere.
Pierre's mother enters and his father straightens up while Pierre continues to wriggle in the chair. With backward glances askance, the parents leave, and Pierre directs his feet and scowl in their direction. But then he gets jumpy, and jumps straight up and off the chair, turning a cartwheel and smiling for the first time in this whole sequence. After the cartwheel, he walks backwards, a smug expression on his face.

Now as the night began to fall, 
A hungry lion paid a call. 
It looked Pierre right in the eye 
And asked him if he'd like to die. 
And Pierre said, 
"I don't care."
After walking backwards, Pierre yawns and stretches to indicate that night has arrived, and the lion enters the frame, unseen. It leaps out and makes itself known to Pierre, who looks at it, and then looks at us with a look that just says, "Are you kidding me?" Then he and the lion engage in a staredown while walking before they stop so the lion can try and intimidate Pierre with his fangs. Rather than being frightened, Pierre simply holds his nose to avoid the lion's (apparently) bad breath. Then he glares at the lion and strikes a melodramatic pose (it runs in the family, I see) before executing a simple pirouette and falling back on the lion, forcing it to sit. The lion glares at Pierre, then looks out at us, looking for answers. What's with this kid?

"I can eat you, don't you see?" 
"I don't care." 
"Then you will be inside of me." 
"I don't care." 
"And you'll never have to bother," 
"I don't care." 
"With a mother and a father." 
"I don't care." 
"Is that all you have to say?" 
"I don't care." 
"Then I'll eat you if I may." 
"I don't care." 
So the lion ate Pierre.
The lion tries to emphasize his deadliness by licking his chops, but Pierre just yawns and strikes another dramatic pose. The lion roars and Pierre appears to consider its offer, but then starts performing a bit of gymnastics. The lion watches with one eye shut, then opens both eyes as Pierre moves onto pirouetting again, ending with a dramatic flair. When the lion says the part about never having to bother with his parents, Pierre does consider this and smiles(!) before quickly going into more gymnastics. The lion doesn't do too much here but Pierre is in constant motion, stopping only to offer the lion an open-handed shrug, as if to say, "Hey, doesn't matter to me whether you eat me or not." Then he pulls the lion's mouth open himself and takes a (dramatic) flying leap in. The lion closes its mouth and apparently swallows, as its belly suddenly grows and it picks its teeth.

Arriving home at six o'clock 
His parents had a dreadful shock! 
They found the lion sick in bed 
And cried, "Pierre is surely dead!" 
They pulled the lion by the hair; 
They hit him with the folding chair. 
His mother asked, "Where is Pierre?" 
And the lion answered, 
"I don't care." 
His father said, "Pierre's in there."
A very quick fade to black, and Pierre's parents are suddenly strolling back in the house. A clock appears out of nowhere and Pierre's father notes it briefly. They stop, gaping at something offscreen, and then give a simultaneous gasp. They look at each other in horror and rush to the next screen, where the lion is tucked in Pierre's bed. It makes a horrible face and clutches at its stomach. Pierre's mother weeps into her husband's coat, then turns and starts pulling the lion's goatee. He doesn't seem to care, although when Pierre's father whips out the folding chair and starts brandishing it, he attempts to shield himself, especially when Pierre's mother starts in with her purse. Inexplicably, they stop, and Pierre's father puts the chair away behind the bed. Pierre's mother ever so melodramatically (I told you it ran in the family) implores the lion while Pierre's father glares at it, but it just makes the same horrible face as before and the parents gape at it. They stare at each other in horror and then Pierre's father bends down to listen to the lion's stomach directly. He straightens up and, horrified, points repeatedly at the lion's midsection. Pierre's mother begins to howl quite dramatically while Pierre's father rushes from one side of the bed to the other and the lion either nods or does something related to being sick. I'm not quite sure.

They rushed the lion into town. 
The doctor shook him up and down, 
And when the lion gave a roar 
Pierre fell out upon the floor.
Pierre's parents pick up either side of the bed and rush offscreen as it rapidly turns black. When the lights come back up, we see a tiny doctor standing on a table, shaking the lion. He stops and watches, and Pierre opens the lion's mouth and peeks out. The doctor looks at us with the same look both Pierre and the lion gave us earlier, then shakes the lion one more time, unceremoniously dropping Pierre on the floor. He then drops the lion, and the table rolls offscreen, leaving Pierre and the lion looking at each other, both unsure of what just happened there.

He rubbed his eyes and scratched his head 
And laughed because he wasn't dead. 
His mother cried and held him tight. 
His father asked, "Are you all right?" 
Pierre said, "I am feeling fine. 
Please take me home, it's half past nine."
Pierre does all that the lyrics describe while the lion goggles at him, trying to figure out how this should be, then finally gives up and lies down. Pierre nods at the audience when the narrator mentions he isn't dead. His mother enters the scene and lifts him up off the floor with her hug, and doesn't let him down until his father comes onscreen.  Back on the ground, Pierre first stands with his hands behind his back, for a moment, proudly, then piourettes again, ending with a yawn as he indicates the clock on the wall, which the lion also looks at.  

The lion said, "If you would care
To ride on me, I'll take you there."
Then everybody looked at Pierre
Who shouted, "Yes, indeed, I care!"
While Pierre continues to yawn, the lion waves a paw at him, and indicates its back.  Pierre gives the lion a bow, then straightens up when he realizes everyone offscreen is looking at him.  He has a moment of hesitataion before striking poses and doing more twirling.  He ends up down on one knee with a huge smile on his face.  

The lion took them home to rest
And stayed on as a weekend guest.
The moral of Pierre is:
CARE!

Pierre climbs on the lion's head with its help, and his father helps his mother onto the lion's back, but while he is climbing on himself, the lion starts moving, and Pierre strikes a kind of "whee" pose for a very brief moment.  Once everyone is offscreen, Pierre peeks back, broom in hand, and then runs back onscreen, turning a somersault with the broom and landing on the letters C A R E ! which bump into each other in their haste to get in the picture.  Pierre leaps from letter to letter, striking poses and using the broom to fancily knock each letter down and offscreen until he gets to the exclamation point.  He uses that one to vault offscreen again, and the scene goes to black.

While Really Rosie has not been released to DVD as of yet, the individual Nutshell Book sequences have come out on the DVD of Where the Wild Things Are as a special feature.  However, there are two things wrong with the DVD version of Pierre. First, whoever put this together decided to hide its roots as part of Really Rosie, so they show animation from the middle over the prologue, instead of Rosie narrating while Pierre prepares behind his apartment window as in the original. Second, the audio is the recording version. In the original, Pierre's voice actor voices his lines, but here, Carol King does them along with the narration. Not a huge deal, but it really bugs me. Especially in the lines "If only you would say 'I care'/"I don't care!" since Pierre's VA put extra emphasis on that one, but Carol King does not.  In the end, though, it's better to have something than nothing, I guess.
Would you believe I actually started this post in April and just didn't get around to finishing it until now?

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Hans Conried

In the past month or so, I've come across the name Hans Conried at least three times. And each time, I thought to myself, "I know who that is, but I just can't put my finger on it." And so I checked his page on the IMDB, and of course the things I knew him from leapt out, just as they did all the other times I've looked him up. You probably know who he is, too, but nothing he's been in comes to mind. Well, you might know him as Dr. Terwilliker in The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T (Dr. Seuss' only live action feature film). Or as both King Azaz and The Mathemagician in The Phantom Tollboth, Horton and Dr. Whoovey in the animated special Horton Hears a Who, or even Snidely Whiplash in Dudley Do-Right (the cartoon, not the movie), not to mention Thorin in the Rankin-Bass version of The Hobbit. But I know you know Hans Conreid, because he was also Captain Hook in Disney's Peter Pan.
Of course, he's done more than that, much more. Like a million guest spots on various tv shows, seriously. So I have no idea why I never remember him until I look at his profile again (and again and again...).

Friday, July 18, 2008

Background Images by Chun Li

There it is, the Smart Heart Library in all its glory. Where did I find such a thing, you ask? On Chun Li's website, displaying the background art he's done for various tv shows and movies, including AiCaL and MLP. Give it a look around.