NostalgiaBlogging

reliving childhood since the day it ended

[nostalgiablogging]

A Crazy Candyman

As you've probably (hopefully) gathered from the title, the nostalgic phenomenon I’d like to talk to you about today is a wonderful move about a candyman and his fantastic chocolate factory.

  NO NO NO NO NO. Not that one. Anything but that one. I abhor it. And while it’s new enough now to not be at all nostalgic on its own, it saddens me to know that just a few years from now there will be people looking back at that movie with a fond twinkle in their eye, blind to its mediocrity because of the nostalgia goggles taped firmly to their skulls.

No, the movie I’m referring to is a wonderful, whimsical movie that ranges from delightful to creepy, and is never boring or jarring or anything but spectacular, if you ask me. And if you aren’t asking me, what are you doing here?

Anyway, on to the movie. I should warn you in advance that this post will be exceedingly image-heavy, because this movie is a feast for the eyes and I can’t keep mine off it.

Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory was, first and foremost, an exceedingly clever (if unsubtle) way of marketing the new “Willy Wonka Chocolate Bars” that had been made based on the book. The movie was, as such, not made with millions of dollars from a studio like Paramount or MGM, but with the money allotted to it by those paying for marketing. This meant the budget for the film was remarkably small, even for the time, and behind-the-scenes interviews reveal that the sets were mostly just “made of cardboard and held together with duct tape”. You wouldn’t guess just by looking at it, but the film really was made for next to nothing, on a tight schedule. The only reason it isn’t well known for just being a giant advertisement is that the chocolate bars meant to be released along with the movie all melted during shipping due to a careless oversight in their formulation, and couldn’t be sold. The chocolate bars went under, but the movie has been elevated to near-classic status. And the film’s charm is hardly owed to nostalgia alone.

The first thing you will notice and love about this film is the characters. They are splendid. The children (except for poor, innocent Charlie, of course) are all appropriately bratty, but not to the point where you actively hate them.

Well, not most of them, anyway.

The adults are all given a fair go, too, unlike many other children’s movies where they become caricatures or clueless bumbling idiots. Even the side characters, or the ones who only appear for a moment, are interesting and compelling as individuals, but don’t distract from the rest of the movie. Every person fits together into one perfect, nostalgiariffic world.

And then there’s this guy:

Yeah. Charlie may technically be the main character, but no one--no one--forgets this guy. He's Willy Wonka, of course, played by Gene Wilder. I firmly believe that no one could have been more perfect for the role. Wilder took it upon himself to add to the character and create an aura of madcap and mystery around him, first developed (in a scene Wilder thought up himself!) when Wonka emerges from his factory for the first time with cane in hand, limping to the gates of his grounds. Then, towards the end, his cane sticks among the cobblestones of the courtyard and he walks the final few feet unaided. He finishes by tipping forward as if to fall over, only to spring into a somersault and leapt upwards at the end like an acrobat. Wilder said he wanted to do the scene because afterwards, no one would know for sure whether Wonka was lying or telling the truth.

His singing voice is quite lovely, too.

The effects of this movie are well decent for being done on such a DIY budget. The oversized candy they made looks incredibly real, and I remember wishing on more than one occasion as a child that I could enter the Chocolate Room and nibble on the oversized candy treats within. And then there’s Wonka’s office, which is filled with halves of every object. I can’t describe it as anything other than genius, the scenery choice and the level of taste (pardon the pun) involved in this movie.

There are some nifty illusionary tricks the set engages in, too. A particularly memorable scene in a shrinking hallway comes to mind. And who could ever forget the neverendingly creepy boat ride scene?

I know I can’t. And oh, how I’ve tried.

The music should honestly have won awards on its own, because the song “Pure Imagination” alone is heartbendingly perfect. And this was when all music had to be recorded live on set during takes.

And don’t forget “Cheer Up, Charlie”, another equally moving number that everyone seems to forget. Or the tune “The Candyman Can”, which is whimsical and fabulous and just slightly haunting at certain parts. Then there’s the matter of the Oompa Loompas’ songs, which would be nonsequitors in a more sequitous movie. But this is Willy Wonka’s movie, and those Oompa Loompas can sing whatever and whenever they want! Flaunt those horrible fake tans and chlorine-greened dye jobs, boys!

The writing deserves a special award all its own as well, because this movie was cranked out in a tiny amount of time, but the dialogue is stunningly realistic while also suspending disbelief for the more extreme characters. Wonka has some fabulous zingers and nonsensical lines that I am personally guilty of overusing in everyday conversation. I mean, come on, “candy is dandy but liquor is quicker”? “strike that, reverse it”? “where lies fancy bread, in the heart or in the head”? “we are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams”? YES. TEACH ME HOW TO WHIMSY, WONKA.

And then there’s the final line of the movie, delivered by Willy Wonka. A completely unforgettable, perfectly written and delivered line.

Shh, just watch (or, don’t, if you’d rather not have the ending spoiled):

How do you even do that? Well, apparently, according to more behind-the-scenes interviews, the scriptwriter was on vacation when he got a call from the director, who needed a new ending and fast. And right there, right then and there, the writer came up with that final line. And the director just said “It’s brilliant” and hung up. An appropriate reaction, really.

I can’t understand why more people don’t know and love this movie. It’s a pinnacle of nostalgic perfection. Just hearing “Pure Imagination” sends me off to a special place where everything is made on the magical whimsy of a fantastically mad candyman, and everything is imbued with just enough crazy to be on the right side of genius.

I’m all out of words to describe this movie. Just go see it in its entirety, if you haven’t already. And if you have already seen it, I think it may be time for a rewatch. It’s well worth it, and maybe one day you can pass it on to your son or daughter or niece or nephew, or just a friend of yours, the way my mom passed her love of it down to my siblings and I. It’s whimsical perfection, and I hope you can come to love it as much as my family and I do.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to rewatch a certain old favorite of mine.

[nostalgiablogging]

The World's Greatest Detective

Sherlock Holmes is a classic. He’s not just a man anymore—he’s gained so much fame that he’s a phenomenon, a sort of modern Greek hero. Few people nowadays have read his stories, yet he remains a prominent figure in pop culture, even to the point of having his own catchphrase, and an expression inspired by him (“Elementary, my dear Watson” and “No s***, Sherlock” respectively). The Sherlock phenomenon has several reboots coming out this year alone in movie, book, and TV show form.

But this isn’t a blog about modern stuff. It’s about childhood memories of stuff. So instead of the new show Sherlock on the BBC that has renewed my love for the world’s greatest consulting detective, the focus of this post is going to be on how Mr. Holmes has been present in my life from childhood on.

I loved this movie as a kid, and it’s one childhood favorite that has withstood the test of time. Basil the mouse is funny, witty, has mood swings when cases don’t go well, can’t remember unimportant things, plays with his chemistry set to gain evidence, wears elaborate disguises, plays violin, and acts particularly insane when in the grips of a spectacular deduction. He’s got an arch-nemesis named Professor Ratigan (the mouse version of Professor Moriarty in the original works, though portrayed much more flamboyantly in the movie, as is the wont of Disney villains) and a companion who’s an ex-army doctor, Dr. Dawson (a mousier Dr. Watson, Doyle’s original ex-army doctor), just returned from Afghanistan. The movie revolves around Basil, Dawson, and a little girl (mouse) named Olivia, whose father has been kidnapped by Ratigan to do mechanical work for his biggest plot ever. Olivia goes to Basil for help, but gets lost along the way and is found by Dawson, who escorts her to Baker Street, and thus winds up meeting Basil. They spend the rest of the movie hunting down Ratigan, saving Olivia’s father, and stopping Ratigan’s eeeevil plot.

(this makes much more sense in context, I swear)

This movie really is amazing. There’s some great use of 3D animation towards the end, and the pacing is quality. The characters are adapted well from the original Sherlock books to become more relatable to children, but without losing their distinguishing features and personality quirks. Basil, for instance, is utterly uninterested in helping Olivia find her father until he finds out it was one of Ratigan’s henchmen who did the kidnapping, and thus the case might lead him to Ratigan. There’s music throughout, both in the background and sung by the characters themselves (or played on violin, in Basil’s case) but only when appropriate and never in a breakout musical style, just at times when their characters would have had cause to be singing as part of the story. I won’t give it away, but you’ll know what I mean when you see it. Because you are going to see it, right? Right.

Anyway, the music: fabulous. The main theme, as played over the title reveal, still makes me want to get up and leap around like Basil, making deductions and adventuring through the streets of London.

Oh, I should probably mention that even though the main characters are mice, there are still humans in the story—which is, to be honest, perfect. Seeing the world from a mouse’s perspective really is interesting, and there’s a great scene in a human-sized toy shop that I don’t want to spoil, but is surprisingly engaging for taking place in nothing more than a too-big toy shop. There’s also a dog sidekick, Toby, who is normal-sized for a dog and thus provides excellent transportation and muscle when the tiny mice need it.

Long story short, “The Great Mouse Detective” is a great movie. It’s funny, thematic, intelligent, has some pleasant old-school animation, great music, and engaging characters. The hero is heroic, the villain is villainous, and the companion is companionable. It’ll entertain kids and act as a primer for Sherlock Holmes, and get them interested in maybe doing some sleuthing of their own.

Or maybe they’ll just want to own a pet mouse. Who knows.

[nostalgiablogging]

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

I'm sure most of us are familiar with Rudolph, even if just through the infamous song. He's cute, he's a reindeer, his nose looks like mine does when it's cold outside.

And I'm here to tell you that this movie, the beloved stop-motion film by Rankin Bass, is absolutely despicable.

No, I'm not joking. This movie is terrible. It looks charming on the outside, but...man. It's really anything but. I'm being completely serious when I say it's brutal and misogynistic. I’m only reviewing it because it seemed a good idea to review the worst of the Rankin Bass films after reviewing the best. And if you don't believe me--which you probably won't, because come on, it's a kids' movie, right?--just give me a few minutes (okay, maybe a little more than that, because this turned out preeeeetty long). I'll show you.

The movie starts out well enough. A talking snowman with an umbrella, waistcoat, and pocket watch (named Sam, of course) sets the scene at the North Pole. Santa’s skinny because he’s worried about Christmas coming up and hasn’t eaten,

Right off the bat, there’s some wonderful intolerance and bullying from Rudolph’s own father. As soon as Rudolph’s nose starts doing what it does best (which apparently includes making a truly awful wailing-ish sound), his mom comments that “we’ll simply have to overlook it”, which…gah. These guys are NOT winning the Parents of the Year Award. And this is just within the first five minutes.

Santa chooses this moment to come say hello to the newly-born Rudolph, and in doing so expresses his complete intolerance and disgust for Rudolph’s nose. After Donner tells Santa that the nose will probably turn normal as Rudolph grows up, Santa says, and I quote, “let’s hope so, if he wants to make the sleigh team someday!”

Nice one, Santa. Nice one.

Donner worsens the situation by saying they’ll just cover up Rudolph’s nose 24/7 so he can blend in. And follows it up by covering it in black goop that Rudolph says is “not very comfortable”. Donner, however, tells him that “There are things more important than comfort. Like self-respect.” Sam the snowman even chips in to this repression of the unusual, by hesitating before describing Rudolph’s nose: “for the first year, the Donners did a pretty good job of hiding Rudolph’s, uh…non-conformity.” As if the very thought of Rudolph’s being different was horrifying, something that needed to be said in hushed tones, with vague terminology to describe it.

Hermie, an elf in Santa’s workshop, has a similar problem. Besides the fact that he is the only elf with big eyes and a suave flip of perfect blonde hair, he also wants to be a dentist. Which is apparently unthinkable. When the head elf finds out about Hermie’s dental inclinations, he takes away his lunch break and threatens him with unemployment. Hermie decides it isn’t worth it and quits during a little song he sings about being a misfit. Oh, and Rudolph has a little solo about the same problem. Both songs/solos are awkward and very, very forced.

Moving on.

I doubt it comes as a surprise to anybody that this movie is blatantly and unapologetically based on the song of the same name. They literally just drop lyrics into the script when convenient. And when inconvenient. So, basically all the time. It only follows that the plot is dictated by the song almost exactly, and so the next hurdle Rudolph faces is participating in the “reindeer games” for sprightly young fawns. (But only the fawns who are dudes, which I will address in a second)

Rudolph immediately meets a dudefawn who introduces himself as Fireball. He’s got a shock of inexplicably blonde hair on his noggin, and somehow also has freckles. He’s really just…incongruous and not well-done at all. Surely there are other, more realist ways of making him stand out from the background fawns. But no. Blonde hair and freckles it is.

Fireball isn’t the only one who hits it off with Rudolph—there’s a girlyfawn who takes an interest in him too. And this is where I take a moment to expound on the misogynistic aspects of the movie. Fireball distinctly describes the reindeer games as “a great way to show off in front of the does”, and said does are no more than 1-year-old fawns themselves. These reindeer kids move fast. (Snowman Sam says “Ah, youth”, to which I, Human Sam, would like to say “Stop. Please.”) The girlfawns don’t seem to be there to do much other than stand in a group off to the side and watch the dudefawns try to fly. It’s a weird, anti-feminist world up there at the North Pole.

The storyline goes back to the elves for a bit, and we get a nice scene where the elves put on a musical number for Santa. During said song, we see the only nerdy-looking elf get shoved in a bag, and another elf get the feather in his cap snipped in half by his neighbor. Afterwards, the holly-jolly Santa says dismissively “It needs work” and leaves. Immediately. What a great guy we have sneaking down our chimneys.

Back to the reindeer games. Rudolph and the girlyfawn flirt awkwardly for a while. We learn her name is “Clarice” (which, seriously? The dudefawn Rudolph meets is called FIREBALL, and the girlyfawn is…Clarice. Good one.) and she says Rudolph is cute, which causes Rudolph to go bounding off into the sky. He then knocks his nose-disguise off while roughhousing with Fireball, and THE NOSE OF RED-HOT SHAME IS REVEALED. Fireball is stunned by the beeping sound Rudolph’s nose shootsat him, and the reindeer start making up names. One of which is, you guessed it, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. This one gets the biggest reaction, even though I think “Pig Snout” was much more insulting. In any case, Santa tells Donner that “you should be ashamed of yourself. What a pity. He had a nice take-off too.” Oh, did I not mention Santa was watching this whole thing, and has sided with the bullies, even going so far as to shame Rudolph’s father, a trusted a valued member of his sleigh team?

Ha ha, that Santa sure is a mean piece of work, isn’t he kids?

Ho.

Ho.

Ho.

The reindeer supervising says that “from now on, we won’t let Rudolph join in any of our reindeer games” and Rudolph leaves in shame. However, Clarice finds him afterwards and wants to walk home with him, saying she likes his nose now better than “that silly false one”, and that “any doe would consider herself lucky to be with you.” Score one for Clarice being the only nice character so far, even if her dad does swoop in soon after to take her away. As he says in his best I-am-a-MAN voice, “Get back to your cave this instant. This INSTANT, young lady. Now, I want to make one thing very plain. No doe of mine is going to be seen with a, with a RED-NOSED REINDEER.”

This movie is so, so bad, guys. I’m taking a break from hating on it, because the next ten to fifteen minutes of it are nothing terrible, just Hermie and Rudolph meeting each other and the silver-and-gold crazed Ukon Cornelius, who saves them from the Abominable Snowman. Besides, this post is going to be long enough. No sense in expounding on every little thing.

Next up we have Donner leaving to look for his son, but not before telling Mrs. Donner, who wants to come with and look for the child that society (and poor parenting) drove to run away, “NO. This is a man’s work.” Of course, right after he leaves, Clarice shows up to convince Rudolph’s mom to go out searching for him anyway. Score two for Clarice being awesome and defying gender roles!

Ukon Cornelius then has my favorite line in the movie, because it is the most tolerant and natural thing I’ve ever heard. Hermie and he are arguing over similes for the dense nature of the fog they’re in: Cornelius says it’s like peanut butter, but Hermie says it’s more like pea soup. And Ukon says, in possibly the most beautiful moment of the entire film:

“You eat what you like, and I’ll eat what I like.”

PERFECTION. This simple statement demonstrates a tolerance and an agree-to-disagree attitude that I find awesome and refreshing amongst all the crap in this movie. It’s downplayed, but it still makes Ukon Cornelius of my favorite characters.

The Island of Misfit Toys is up next, and it makes me weep for humanity to know that it means there are hundreds of kids out there rejecting amazing toys like these. I mean, come on! A spotted elephant? A Charlie-in-the-Box? A cowboy riding an ostrich? That’s awesome! Sign me up!

(There are some genuinely bad toys though. A boat that can’t float and a train with square wheels? Sounds like some elf was drunk on the job…)

Interesting tidbit: the ruler of the Island is a winged, black-maned lion called King Moonraise, who acts and sounds like Aslan. Smooth, Rankin Bass. He puts the group of misfits up in a room for the night, in exchange for their asking Santa to give the toys another shot at being loved by children.

Rudolph strikes out on his own to keep his friends safe (the Abominable Snowman is chasing him because of his nose or something) and lives as a nomad until he grows up and realizes, according to Snowman Sam, that “you can’t run away from your troubles.” He goes home, facing the undiminished disgust for his nose with admirable aplomb. Fireball seems to have disappeared entirely, which makes me wonder if maybe he went to look for Rudolph too, but we don’t see him for the rest of the movie. At all. Oh well.

Rudolph, of course, discovers his parents aren’t home, but Santa turns up at their family cave just in time to tell him in his kindest, most trust-me-I’m-Santa voice, “They’re gone, Rudolph. They’ve been gone for months, out looking for you!” He then bemoans the fact that Christmas is almost upon them and he’s worried about not having as awesome a sleigh team without Rudolph’s parents on the job.

GOOD ONE, SANTA. AS IF YOU WEREN’T ONE OF THE PEOPLE WHO LED RUDOLPH TO RUN AWAY. GOOD JOB OWNING UP TO YOUR WRONGDOINGS. HA HA. HA. HA.

Yeah, I hate this movie’s Santa. A lot.

So then some big snowstorm hits or something and there’s only three days until Christmas, and there’s a shot of an igloo getting blown off of two stereotypically-depicted Eskimos that makes me want to punch something. Moving on.

Rudolph finds his parents and Clarice before the Abominable guy can eat them, and then Hermie and Ukon Cornelius find him (apparently sent by Snowman Sam? WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING I THINK THE MOVIE IS GIVING UP). Ukon Cornelius knows exactly what to do, and in the end Hermie yanks all the Abominable’s teeth out, and then Ukon pulls a Sherlock and jumps off a cliff with him to save his friends. Even though apparently pulling out the teeth was enough to make him helpless. …Okay. Whatever.

Sam says wisely, “Well, they are all very sad at the loss of their friend. But they realize that the best thing to do is to get the women back to Christmas town.”

…Let me repeat that.

the best thing to do is to get the women back to Christmas town

the best thing to do is to get the women back to Christmas town

the best thing to do is to get the women back to Christmas town

I WILL DESTROY EVERYTHING YOU LOVE, MOVIE.

Okay so I’m going to abbreviate immensely now to supplant my rage: long story short, everyone’s like “lol maybe we were too hard on those goshdarn misfits” and Santa is like “cool bro I’ll give those misfit toys to new families” and Ukon shows up like “lol Abominable Snowmen BOUNCE and I’ve trained him to put stars on trees sorry you thought I was dead!”

But the snowstorm is still really bad or something so Santa gets all “Christmas is CANCELLED” but Rudolph’s bright red shriek-y nose goes off in Santa’s face and he’s like “lol jk, Rudolph YOU CAN LEAD THE WAY.” Rudolph is appropriately baffled by Santa’s complete 180o turn to loving his nose, but agrees to take the lead of the sleigh team anyway.

So glad Rudolph’s nose could be helpful after all, Santa! Good thing it all worked out for you.

Donner makes something up about believing in his son’s nose all along, and after a nice Christmas montage from the elves, Santa’s off! Turns out he didn’t need Rudolph’s parents for his sleigh team after all, because they seem perfectly happy to just watch the take-off from a distance.

The misfit toys make one last appearance as they’re picked up and later dropped off by Santa, and that’s all she wrote. The movie plays us out with the film’s namesake song, and the credits roll.

Happy New Year everyone. I hope none of you have friends and family as intolerant and misogynistic as Rudolph’s, and that you all have lots of kind, open-minded, brave Clarices in your life instead.

[nostalgiablogging]

Since I'm impatient (and apparently late on doing the latest tumblr post) I'm going to give Thanksgiving a miss and blunder straight on towards Christmas.

For the next several weeks, I will try to get in a review/analysis of a nostalgic Christmas movie that I remember from childhood. Rankin Bass is sure to show up at least twice, and here's the first film I'm trying on for size:

A Year Without a Santa Claus, and you've probably guessed from the picture above (if you've seen the movie before)

A Year Without a Santa Claus (which I'm going to call YSC from now on) is one of those Rankin Bass films, made in good-old-fashioned stop-motion animation and based on a story about Christmas. More specifically, this film is a hypothetical on what would happen if Santa, disheartened by all the jaded nonbelievers in the world, called it quits and decided to just chill on Christmas instead of working his butt off all nigh delivering presents.

The film is based on a book of the same name, which was published in 1956. The Rankin Bass movie took to the screens in 1974, and like many Rankin Bass movies, is a classic Christmas film. My family loves it to bits and we watch it every year, usually more than once.

The thing that I love about Rankin Bass Christmas movies is that they're not even about Christmas, really, and this movie is no exception. It doesn't focus particularly on the long history of the tradition, or on its religious roots; rather, it is about characters and story. YSC follows several characters, most notably Santa Claus and Mrs. Claus, along with two elves named Jingle and Jangle, and, to some extent, a little boy named Iggy. Still, the story focuses on Santa and the Mrs, and Mrs. Claus actually gets more time onscreen than Santa himself.

The plot is this: Santa gets a cold just before Christmas, and is told to take it easy and maybe rearrange his Christmas schedule to let himself heal up. This advice is partnered with the observation that no one cares about Christmas anymore, and Santa is so disheartened that he basically just calls the whole thing off, despite protests from his wife and Jingle and Jangle (who make me wonder if all elves are named in pairs).

Santa can't be budged, but neither can Mrs. Claus. She thinks about becoming Santa herself (singing about how she's "fantasized about it a lot", and adding that "anyone can be Santa Claus"), but decides it isn't good enough, and launches a campaign to save Christmas. Over the course of the movie, Santa comes to see that there really is a need for Christmas, and the holiday is saved in time for everyone to receive their presents. And, of course, many songs are had along the way.

There are certain things about the movie worth mentioning that aren’t strictly plot-central, though, particularly a couple of characters that I’m sure anyone who’s seen it remembers:

The Miser brothers, Snow Miser and Heat Miser, who are physical embodiments of heat and cold, and are in charge of the weather and temperature of the planet, are what I look forward to seeing every year around Christmas time. They even got their own ABC special a while ago (which was really an abomination, but I won’t get into that during this strictly-fluffy missive).

What everyone remembers from YSC is these guys, because of two things: their tremendously catchy songs, and their characterizations. These guys are funny, together or apart, no matter which way you swing it. Heat Miser has a nasty temper, and Snow Miser cracks jokes and makes puns with every breath to leave his mouth, and they cannot. Get. Along. Watching them fight is a highlight of the movie, and it’s even better when Mrs. Claus goes to their mother for help because they can’t cooperate. Their mother is Mother Nature, and she’s got both sons wrapped around her little finger. And it’s a glory to behold.

Their songs are another great part of the movie, and no matter what you do they will crawl into your brain and put themselves on repeat there for the next few days. Their songs are a variation on one melody, and while I personally favor the Snow Miser’s version (and Snowy himself), they’re equally catchy. The songs also serve to emphasize the differences between the brothers, because no matter how similar the melodies are, the lyrics are as different as night and day—or, in this case, hot and cold. Heat Miser likes hot weather and can melt things at a touch, but Snow Miser prefers the freezing cold and can turn anything he touches into snow. The dichotomy of their relationship, and the interactions between them, are thorny, but in the end even the Miser brothers are able to reach an agreement with the help of their mother, and Christmas is saved with their help.

But I digress.

The Miser brothers may be a treat, but what really drives the story, and what really sticks with you, is the innocence of belief in Santa and Christmas, and the spirit of the holiday, which is really about showing other people you care about them. Santa is ironically the one who needs to learn this lesson the most, and it’s a huge gift-giving effort by the children of the world that finally convinces him to keep up the work on Christmas.  Every kid in the world uses whatever they can spare to send Santa presents of his own, and it’s this gesture that warms Santa’s heart and convinces him to take up the gauntlet again. His gift-giving to the world is his way of showing his appreciation in return, and for me that’s what Christmas is all about.

A Year Without a Santa Claus is a Christmas staple for me and my family, and if you give it a watch I’m sure you’ll see why, nostalgia or no.

The film in its entirety can be found here on youtube.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

[nostalgiablogging]

Have you got a jar of dirt?

No. I don't. Why, have you got one you're looking to get rid of? Because in that case, I don't want it. Keep your dirt to yourself. You could make a lovely terrarium with it. Lots of lovely flowers. And bushes. With...berries. Blackberries. And then you could feed them to your rather pixelated bluebird.

[nostalgiablogging]

How did the magician make the hat disappear in the rabbit?

[nostalgiablogging]

Where is the wizard?

[nostalgiablogging]

Who is the candy man?

...looks like I'm going to be answering these now

[nostalgiablogging]

My Ears

No, this isn't about what you think. This is me explaining why there's a rabbit in the heading of my blog.

Because, I mean, it seems like a fairly blah choice, doesn't it? "What's cute and nostalgia-y?" "A teddy bear?" "Too mainstream. Let's go with a bunny."

The choice was actually obvious to me from the start--there were never any thoughts of teddy bears, or, really, any other nostalgic object. And, while most people probably aren't familiar with that particular rabbit plushie, I can assure you I am. I've owned one for about eleven years now, so trust me when I say that it is a Ty plushie, the jumbo-sized version of a rabbit they released called "Ears". (Is the title making sense yet?)

I chose Ears for the banner because for me, she is the ultimate reminder of childhood. She's the toy I slept with night after night for comfort, who kept me company after nightmares that made me afraid to leave my bed. She saw me through good times and bad times, and several best friends who turned out not to be. I stopped using her in middle school, and she now regularly sits in a basket with the rest of my old Ty plushies, but sometimes, when I'm feeling really down, I pull her out again. Just holding her is kind of cathartic, embarrassing as it may be to admit I still get comfort from a stuffed toy.

The point of using Ears as my banner isn't just that I happen to find nostalgic value in her, or that she looks cute and appropriately childhood-y, but that everyone has had (or should have) an Ears in their life. Because sometimes you have a secret or a story that's too embarrassing to tell anyone but an inanimate toy that won't judge you. Sometimes, you've had a bad day and are too proud (or alone) to turn to another person for relief. Sometimes, you just need a friend who will listen and not say a single word. If you've already got a friend who can do all that, that's great, but friends like that are hard to find, and besides that, human beings tend to have busy schedules nowadays. So even if you do have That Friend, it's good to have an Ears on hand anyway, just in case.

But here, I'll use an example almost everyone should be able to understand: Woody is Andy's Ears. That much has always been clear to me--just like my Ears stood by me, and during childhood playtimes was always brave and kind and wise, Woody stood by Andy and took the lead in Andy's playtimes, always an honorable Sheriff. Everyone should be able to look back on memories like that. It's what nostalgia's all about.

And now, a relevant nostalgic video:

[nostalgiablogging]

This video, just a simple clip, is the preface to what was, by and large, my childhood.

Let me explain: we didn't have TV when I was a kid (my parents didn't want us to spend all our time flicking channels), but what we did have was a TV set with VCR, and a bunch of old VHS tapes. Among these were Pokemon episodes. And, as VCRs fell out of style, we accrued more and more of them from friends or just nearby yards sales where the bright red packaging caught my mom's eye.

We got amazing mileage out of those simple three-episode tapes. We'd watch them over and over again until we had them practically memorized. We started collecting Pokemon cards in an attempt to "catch 'em all" (a brilliant marketing ploy used as the catchphrase of the cartoon), and although I didn't get my first Gameboy until the age of twelve, the only reason I wanted one in the first place was to play Pokemon. The only two games I own for it are, to this day, Pokemon FireRed and Pokemon Gold.

The Pokemania didn't stop there. We got Pokemon plushies, electronic toys, juice glasses, and my mom even made our cousins and us custom Pokemon-print pajamas. The leftover scraps of material were quickly cut up and scattered among us, as we each collected the tiny cloth-printed Pokemon and traded each other for the ones we wanted. We were obsessed.

The hook of the franchise was simple and catching: pets, basically, only more awesome and smart and with superpowers, who'd fight other such pets so that you could win awards, and who'd level up into newer, even-cooler pets. And it never ended--once one season and its matching set of Pokemon got old, another season and set would be cranked out and put to work. Over the years, my siblings and I got tired of the franchise, due to (among other things) changes in art style, changes in Pokemon styles and cool-ness, changes to the show's structure, and changes to the main cast. The cast changes were probably the biggest flop, owing to the fact that one of the characters, Misty, who was one of the best childhood role models for all young girls, with her sassy attitude, kind heart, love for Water Pokemon, and lack of tolerance for Bug Pokemon and Ash and Brock's antics (as well as a fierce desire to get her ruined bike repaired), was replaced by increasingly bland stand-ins who served only to fill the role of token female. As soon as she was booted off, the show declined in quality and integrity. Whereas Misty was a tomboy with a fiery temper who was nevertheless well-rounded and believeable (not to mention relatable), these girls were air-headed, silly, one-note characters that I found only annoying and distracting.

It was Misty who helped me to recognize my own inner tomboy, and gave me someone to relate to when I was lost in a sea of pink and hearts and girly-girl things that I hated. Misty showed me you could still be a tomboy and have friends, that you could be fiery and passionate and not annoying at the same time. The girl characters sent to fill her place...well. They did not. May, the first follow-up, was mellow and weak and spacey and had a little brother tagalong who only increased my irritation. The second female fill-in was Dawn, a complete girly-girl who always wore pink, dresses and skirts, owned only cute Pokemon, and was only useful when competing in Pokemon contests and showing off her and her Pokemons' "cuteness" with showers of pink and hearts and glitter.

Yeah, I stopped watching.

There's a new series on with a new female character, and while she's a step in the right direction, she's still no Misty.

On the other hand, is it right to only consider the female characters as role models? In terms of male leads, there was Ash--dimwitted and bullheaded--and Brock--girl-crazy, and possessing a distinct lack of eyes. At first glance, they might have seemed flat, but closer examinination reveals more virtues than they let on.

Ash comes from a single-parent household, and has always wanted to be a Pokemon Master like his dad. He shows tremendous bravery in choosing a Pokemon he previously knew nothing about as his companion, and in setting off on a journey all by his lonesome. He is loyal to a fault when it comes to his friends and thinks creatively and intuitively, which makes up for his lack of intelligence and textbook knowledge. He is thick-headed but energetic and so determined that he never gives up until he gets it right. I've always liked that side of him, even if it is sometimes infuriating when he blunders along without

Brock, on the other hand, looks before he leaps, which probably results from a life of caring for his herd of younger siblings in the wake of their absentee parents. He can cook, clean, sew and apply first-aid like nobody's business, and wants to grow up to be a Pokemon Breeder, which entails nothing less than raising Pokemon in perfect health. He's not even slightly effeminate, and chases after girls, but doesn't care if people see him making porridge in his frilly pink heart-covered apron, and that's something I can respect.

I guess what I'm really trying to say, as I struggle to wrap this up, is thank you, Pokemon. Thank you for all the laughs and smiles and cries of dismay and joy and all the sighs of exasperation that came in between. I have never stopped wanting to be a Pokemon Master, and I never will.

Thanks for the childhood.