(For Day 28 of NaPoWriMo, the prompt was for a poem about “music at a ceremony or event of some kind,” like for instance a birthday.)
“Happy Birthday!” everyone sang. The sound of unity in my ears rang. Everyone loved me, at least for a song That needed more verses to feel at all long, And oh, how I wished, as the candles were blown, That mom would stop yelling and put down her phone And dad would stop cursing and pointing his finger, That both would just stay as a smiling singer And love me enough to not hate one another. Not too much to ask for a father and mother. I knew what would happen but blew all the same. Then maybe the candles would carry the blame. _____________________
MPA rating: PG
Sometimes a film so clearly wants to be like its predecessors that you have to at least admire the effort that went into its earnest attempt. Mary and the Witch’s Flower comes to mind in trying to live up to Studio Ghibli’s legacy, while Skydance Animation’s Spellbound aspires to be like the Disney princess musicals of yore. It certainly has a pedigree with producer John Lassiter, director Vicky Jenson of Shrek, and songs by the great Alan Menken. In it, Princess Ellian (Rachel Zegler) of the fantasy kingdom of Lumbria desperately tries to keep secret from the citizens that her royal parents (Javier Bardem, Nicole Kidman) have been transformed into animal-like monsters running amok in the palace. Seeking the help of two magical Oracles (Nathan Lane and Titus Burgess as an unspoken gay couple), Ellian takes her parents on a dangerous journey to transform them back to humans.
Spellbound has a lot of great ideas to its credit, particularly in the world-building, from a waterfall used as a massive gate to a desert that turns to quicksand under cloud shadows or a tunnel where sounds become projectiles. The songs are quite good too, though still don’t hold a candle to Menken’s best work, and the voice cast is on point, especially Zegler’s original spunky princess role and John Lithgow as her long-suffering adviser/sidekick.
But it’s hard to escape the feeling that Spellbound is a pale imitation that needed more fleshing out to avoid its own plot holes, like how the monster king and queen escape the palace when their cages are left open yet had been free to wander the palace for months before that. And then there’s the message that makes itself known rather late in the runtime, clarifying the monster situation as a metaphor for divorce and saying many of the right things for a resolution while not diving deep enough to make it land emotionally. Spellbound is a valiant effort, often funny, cute, and imaginative, but its muddled tone and oversimplified lesson keep it from rising to the level of its forerunners.
Best line: (Queen Ellsmere, to her daughter) “The best thing about us is you. And it always has been.”
(I may be late, but not defeated! For yesterday’s Day 11 of NaPoWriMo, the prompt was for a poem that incorporates song lyrics as a refrain, so I drew from a certain musical and went with the suggested example of a villanelle.)
King and kingdom may yet fall, But my fealty shall remain. No, never could I leave you at all.
Laughter may yet leave this hall, Pleasured memories turned pain. King and kingdom may yet fall.
Our first meeting, I recall, Was joy God only could ordain. No, never could I leave you at all.
Peter may yet pillage Paul, Men and what they stood for slain. King and kingdom may yet fall.
How’d we get here, warts and all? Is our love a common bain? No, never could I leave you at all.
Trapped in adoration’s thrall, Let the legends mourn the reign. King and kingdom may yet fall. No, never could I leave you at all. _____________________________
MPA rating: G
I love musicals, even long musicals like Les Misérables. Yet even I have a limit, and somehow Camelot was too much even for me. Based on the 1960 Lerner and Loewe stage musical, Camelot adapts the King Arthur legend, particularly the creation of the Knights of the Round Table and the doomed love triangle between Arthur (Richard Harris), Guenevere (Vanessa Redgrave), and Lancelot (Franco Nero, with Gene Merlino dubbing his singing voice).
All the events of the legendary scandal are well-portrayed: Lancelot’s boastful self-regard with the skill to back it up, the gradual transition of Guenevere disdaining and then falling for him, Arthur’s exasperation as he tries to overlook the uncomfortable rumor that everyone but he acknowledges, the corruptive role of Mordred (David Hemmings) in bringing Arthur’s idealistic kingdom low. Much of it is laudable, particularly an insightful script and the Oscar-winning score, production design, and costumes bringing Arthurian myth to life, yet it’s also dully self-indulgent at three hours long, in stark need of a skillful editor yet still leaving out songs from the stage version.
While Redgrave is a bewitching Guenevere and her eventual real-life husband Nero is dashing (if a bit insufferable) as Lancelot, Richard Harris is a strangely mixed bag as Arthur: sometimes, he’s excellent at embodying the king’s charm and deepening desperation while other times have him feeling too frivolous and unregal. It’s funny to think of him growing up to play the more Merlin-like role of Dumbledore, but he was indeed a singer too, known for the original version of “MacArthur Park.” His first number “I Wonder What the King is Doing Tonight” is a good representative of the film’s lack of imaginative staging, as Arthur just dips around some tree branches; Lerner’s lyrics are delightful, yet there’s little in the way of visual interest for the songs. As a poet, I certainly enjoyed the wordplay of “The Lusty Month of May” and “Take Me to the Fair,” but the film around the musical numbers, from its stolid pacing to the strain at an inspiring ending, sadly doesn’t rise above its flaws in my book.
Best lines: (Arthur) “I can’t quite remember all that Merlyn taught me, but I do remember this. That happiness is a virtue. No one can be happy and wicked. Triumphant, perhaps, but not happy.” and (young Arthur) “What’s the best thing for being sad?” (Merlin) “The best thing for being sad is to learn something.”
(For Day 1 of NaPoWriMo, the prompt was to use a new-to-me music or art term, so I opted for the film-appropriate term chroma – “the intensity of a given color.”)
I wonder sometimes what I can see That nobody else can. How would I know? How would you know? Isn’t it normal for such to be so? Isn’t it true we rely on our eyes To fill in the gaps that are left by the wise? What differs is mystery.
I wonder sometimes what I can hear That nobody else can. Could I be wrong? Is that a song? And is there someone who might sing along? If I can only hit half of the notes, Who hears the other half, voice in our throats? Maybe they’ll lend me an ear.
I wonder sometimes what I can try That nobody else can. What can I play? What can I say That’s more than a fact we agree on today? I have a private monopoly on The unwritten song, the image undrawn, And the chroma of my sky. _________________________________
MPA rating: PG
Considering how long we had to wait and catch up on anime films sometimes years after their release, it’s a special modern treat for fans like me to be able to see them in American theaters only months after their Japanese premiere, complete with a choice of English dub or subs. I caught the English dub of The Colors Within back in January, comparatively soon after its August 2024 release in Japan, and it did not disappoint. Directed by Naoko Yamada of A Silent Voice fame, this low-key high school drama is a gentle-hearted tribute to music’s power to foster friendship and self-discovery.
Set in a Catholic girls boarding school, the film follows ingenuous student Totsuko Higarashi, who experiences a visual synesthesia where she sees people in specific colors, often awestruck by an invisible beauty that no one else can appreciate. Drawn to an especially stunning blue coming from fellow student Kimi, Totsuko’s interest in her leads to the two stumbling into forming a band with a local boy and instrument collector named Rui. As the trio practice in secret and write their own songs, they endeavor to work through their individual personal and family struggles.
The Colors Within is a thoroughly sweet film, where the conflict stays at the level of contending with school rules and familial expectations, and there’s a special delight to be found in the creative joy the three teens derive from their simple musical ambitions. Totsuko’s wide-eyed experimentation with lyrics and notes and the collaboration of the three as they bond are enough to spark anyone’s curiosity to maybe start a band of their own (if only it was that easy). And the result of their teamwork is three outstanding songs, courtesy of musician Kensuke Ushio, two of them catchy pop tunes and one peaceful and ethereal. Going above and beyond, the excellent dub even translated the songs into English, with Kimi’s voice actor Kylie McNeill showcasing the singing chops she also brought to 2021’s Belle.
One unique element to The Colors Within is its earnest portrayal of Catholicism. Totsuko prays frequently and worries about going to confession after lying, Rui plays a moving rendition of the “Tantum ergo” on a theremin, and the nuns teaching at the girls’ school are largely presented as affectionate and supportive rather than strict caricatures. While not really a plot focus, it’s nice to see Christianity shown in a positive light as simply a part of the characters’ lives, even informing Totsuko’s song lyrics performed near the end.
As for the animation, director Yamada has traded in her prior collaborations with Kyoto Animation for the equally acclaimed studio Science Saru, known for highly dynamic animations like Ride Your Wave or last year’s hit series Dandadan. Compared with those, The Colors Within is far more grounded, full of pastel softness and painterly details, highlighted at times by the more abstract colors that Totsuko is able to see on those around her.
All in all, The Colors Within is a coming-of-age charmer. Totsuko’s fascination with Kimi could be read as a budding girl crush, but considering the setting and air of innocence, I thought it was more of a wholesome friendship. As someone working on song lyrics and basic tunes of my own for my musical, I related to the band members gradually developing their style, and the climactic performance of the end product was a joy of sight and sound. Totsuko’s character development may be ultimately on the thin side, but the colors on display here are beautiful.
Long time, no see, eh? I wish I had a better reason for dropping completely out of the blogosphere since May. I have been working on my musical still, and I had a wonderful trip to Europe in the meantime, but the absence simply boiled down to my not having the drive and interest to write about movies, even though I’ve still seen quite a few. With the new year approaching, I would like to change that and return to a somewhat more regular posting schedule, especially since I have a backlog of films to cover. So sorry for the long disappearance, but I’m back and with a movie musical no less! _________________________
Wicked is as wicked does as wicked is perceived. The good, by virtue of their virtue, always are believed. And no one stops to question if there’s something to be grieved When wicked people get what they deserve.
They surely had a childhood, a life before their fall, A point of view, a friend or two, a favorite book or doll, But something changed in them or us, though what I can’t recall, To slide them down a steep and shameful curve.
The public judge, of course they do, a jury of our peers, And when the executioner is playing on their fears, They’ll brand a person “wicked” to a hundred thousand cheers If only they will get what they deserve. And surely we all know what they deserve…. _________________________
MPA rating: PG
Despite my love of musical theater, I’m actually a comparative newcomer to the fandom of Wicked. I knew very little about it until a TV special celebrating the show’s 15th anniversary in 2018 (which featured Ariana Grande). I didn’t actually get to see a touring production of the show until earlier this year, so I feel like the timing of my interest in Wicked was far more convenient than for the ardent fans who have been waiting twenty-one years for this movie’s release. Even so, it’s finally here (Part 1 at least), and it’s a hit!
For those who still don’t know, Stephen Schwartz’s Broadway musical Wicked is based on the 1995 novel by Gregory Maguire, a then-innovative twisting of the classic Wizard of Oz storyline to make the Wicked Witch of the West, the green-skinned Elphaba, a more sympathetic main character. While I haven’t read the book myself, I’ve heard the musical and movie are a lighter PG version of the tale that nonetheless touches on themes of acceptance, persecution, and the perils of public perception, all amid a host of now-iconic showtunes. Here in Part 1, covering the first half of the stage show, Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo) is a new student at Oz’s prestigious Shiz University, unpopular but skilled with magic, alongside the more fashionable Galinda (Ariana Grande-Butera). Both dream of meeting the famous Wizard and making their mark on the world, and, though their initial interactions are strained, a friendship eventually blossoms, a bond to be tested by the different directions their ambitions take them.
While it didn’t gain mainstream success, I was a big fan of Jon M. Chu’s previous musical adaptation In the Heights, and Wicked further cements Chu as the premier director for movie musicals. The energy and choreography of the dance scenes are especially thrilling on a big screen, particularly “Dancing Through Life,” the carefree anthem of Fiyero (Jonathan Bailey), the girls’ dreamy Winkie love interest. Much has been said of the decision to split Wicked into two films, but I think it was a smart move. A common complaint of musical adaptations is that fans’ favorite songs or moments end up on the cutting room floor (ahem, Dear Evan Hansen), but Wicked is almost obsessively faithful to its source material, with every song accounted for and many in-between scenes expanded. Does that make its two-hour-and-forty-minute runtime a bit overlong, considering this first half is nearly as long as the whole stage show? Well, yes, but with few exceptions, I appreciate the extended runtime, which lets the relationships grow more naturally and gives the non-musical scenes some breathing room.
I may have had some reservations about the casting when the lead roles were first announced, but Erivo and Grande more than deliver, both of them ardent fans of the show who have publicly championed their commitment to Elphaba and Glinda. Erivo is an outstanding actress and singer and reliable as ever in the lead role, while Grande is more of a surprise. Considering her early acting role as the ditzy Cat Valentine on Nickelodeon, I doubted that she was a serious enough actress for Glinda, even if she was a superfan (and had already contributed to this Mika song that samples and remixes “Popular”). But she brings surprising depth to a character who could easily be written off as a vain blonde but whose connection to Elphaba feels genuine and sweet. It helps too that both lead actresses have amazing voices, with Erivo’s “The Wizard and I” and “Defying Gravity” and Grande’s “Popular” as auditory standouts. There are instances of the movie interrupting a song with some pause or vocal trick that didn’t need to be there, but that’s a minor critique.
Funnily enough, it seems that Wicked fans are the ones poking the most holes in the movie, whether it be a supposedly lackluster color palette or the overly indulgent superhero-style awakening of Elphaba’s witch persona at the end. Yet I as a casual fan found a lot to love and very little I would change. I thought one musicless dance scene was overly awkward and long, but I’ve seen others praise it as an emotional high point, so to each their own. I especially loved some pitch-perfect cameos in the Emerald City sequence, and I certainly think the practical sets and elaborate costumes deserve some Oscar love.
Now, with only a year to wait before part two (subtitled For Good) comes out, I am thrilled with what we have so far and hesitant for what is to come. The second half of Wicked is darker, has fewer memorable songs, and has a lot of stuff happening offstage that is easier to accept in a stage format. With the work they’ve done on extra characterization here, such as with Fiyero and Ethan Slater’s Boq, I do wonder how they’ll handle all that as a movie. But for now, its chill-inducing showstoppers still fresh in my mind, Wicked is a triumph and a treat for musical fans, already outgrossing all other Broadway adaptations, and one I hope to see again soon.
Best line: (the Wizard, played by the fitting Jeff Goldblum) “The best way to bring folks together is to give them a real good enemy.”
(For Day 26 of NaPoWriMo, the prompt was for a poem showcasing alliteration, consonance, and assonance, some of my favorite poetic devices.)
The cats are out, the cats are out, So stow your salmon, hide your trout. They’ve come to call and cull the crowd And find the one whom fate endowed.
Heading from their humans’ homes, Crawling in the catacombs, Fleeing from the fountain sprays, Dallying in the alleyways, Gamboling upon the ledge, Reveling the razor’s edge, Clawing at the curtain rods, Ravaging like greedy gods, Gobbling their food in mobs While passing off as polished snobs, Swinging at the hanging string, Confident in claws that cling, Swishing their capricious tails, Romping on the risky rails, Sniffing, licking, and nitpicking, Quick to treats as well as tricking, Now they come in coats of fur, Here a hiss and there a purr.
In case there still is any doubt, The cats are out, the cats are out. __________________________
MPA rating: PG
As many know, I am an ardent fan of movie musicals, so a part of me felt that 2019’s film adaptation of the Andrew Lloyd Webber show Cats couldn’t really be as bad as everyone said. Surely it was just some Internet haters latching onto some detail, like the eyes complaint from Alita: Battle Angel, which never bothered me. Yet as much as I wanted to find redeeming value in Cats, there’s not much that even I could extract. Truth be told, it really is as awful as people say.
I’ll preface this by saying I was never a big fan of the original stage version of Cats either. I applaud Webber’s talents, as well as the risk of adapting T.S. Eliot’s Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats, full of many a charming and lyrical poem. Yet the result of that adaptation was a near-plotless story of various cats preening their particular talents in the hopes of earning reincarnation. It relies heavily on dance, and only ever touches the emotions with the iconic song “Memory,” sung by the outcast Grizabella (played here by Jennifer Hudson), leaving the rest of the songs to be intermittently fun or clever but rarely involving.
So the stage show had its own issues that make me wonder how it managed to stay on Broadway for eighteen years. The film does nothing to remedy those issues and instead adds even more, from strange scaling of the set and props to disturbing CG creations (I didn’t mind the human-cat hybrids themselves, but the human-mice and human-cockroaches were a step too far) to bafflingly poor casting and humor, particularly James Corden and Rebel Wilson (who even eats some of the aforementioned human-cockroaches). It’s especially astounding how many talented performers are featured here, including Hudson, Judi Dench, Ian McKellen, Idris Elba, and even Taylor Swift, all performing songs that range from decent to cringe-inducing and making me wonder at what point did they realize this was a bad idea.
So yes, Cats the movie is an utter mess, though I will grant it is not without some bright spots. A few songs are quite fun, like “Skimbleshanks: The Railway Cat” with Steven McRae, while the new song for the movie, “Beautiful Ghosts,” was rather pretty. And I honestly feel sorry for Francesca Hayward in the lead role of Victoria, since she likely thought this could be her big break and could have done better with better material. Surprisingly, my VC disagreed with me and largely enjoyed the film, so perhaps there’s room for non-ironic fans out there. There are far better Webber musicals out there, so I’ll just watch Evitaand pet my own cat instead.
(For Day 21 of NaPoWriMo, the prompt was for a poem with repetition of a specific color. I incorporated some anaphora from Day 14 and began each line with that meanest of colors – pink!)
Pink is what is expected of you. Pink is the color of choice, Pink as the blush of a rosebud, Pink as a feminine voice, Pink as a Barbie doll’s dreamhouse, Pink as two greaser-bet slips, Pink as the rarest of diamonds, Pink as two feverish lips, Pink as a cherry tree blooming, Pink as a raspberry’s juice, Pink as a Himalayan salt mine, Pink as flamingos set loose, Pink as a conch on the seashore, Pink as an albino eye, Pink as an Amazon dolphin, Pink as an eventide sky, But only on Wednesdays. _________________________
MPA rating: PG-13
I only watched the original Mean Girls recently, so it feels like even less of a turnaround for there to already be a remake 20 years after the first. Yet, as much as the marketing weirdly tried to hide the fact that the remake was a musical, it is in fact an adaptation of the 2018 Broadway hit. What they all have in common is Tina Fey behind the script, infusing humor into the tale of Cady Heron (here played by Angourie Rice) as she goes from outsider new kid to a member of the notorious mean-girl clique the Plastics, led by imperious Regina George (Reneé Rapp, reprising her stage role).
I consider Mean Girls the last great high school movie before the onset of smartphone culture, where popularity and infamy were born from in-person interactions rather than mass Internet engagement. So in a way, I can see how the story could use an update for modern teens. And of course, they had to make other cultural tweaks, like more diverse casting and having Cady’s friend Janis (Auli’i Cravalho) be an out lesbian rather than just rumored to be.
I do really like the original film (it is on my LIST), but I have quite a soft spot for the musical (one of the most fun stage shows I’ve seen), so I was excited to see this musical version on the big screen. Well, it’s a mixed bag. The plot has hardly changed from prior incarnations, but fans of the musical will definitely spot some gaps. For one, while I’m not musically qualified to identify what’s changed, the music style often sounds… different somehow, more acoustic and less punchy, taking the teeth out of what was my favorite song “Apex Predator.” Then there are the odd creative choices to swap out perfectly good songs for lesser others, like Cady’s intro or the tune for the Mathlete championship near the end.
The song omissions range from heartbreaking, like the much-missed “Fearless,” to understandable, like the thematically relevant but dramatically extraneous “Stop,” leaving Damian (Jaquel Spivey) without a big solo number. Yet the film finds its cinematic spectacle with its chosen showstoppers, particularly the rollicking “Revenge Party,” Regina’s sultry “World Burn,” and Janis’s anthemic “I’d Rather Be Me.”
So I’m torn on this new version of Mean Girls. With its song changes and cruder, less funny dialogue, it’s a step down from both the original and the stage musical, but it also brings its fair share of fun. I particularly liked a few callbacks to the first film, like a certain cameo near the end and the twist on Fey and Tim Meadows reprising their roles as Ms. Norbury and the school’s principal, respectively. All the actors do a fine job too, though Cravalho and Rapp are certainly stronger singers than Rice. It’s unlikely to become as iconic as the original Mean Girls, but this musical update fits comfortably in its cultural wake.
Best line: (Ms. Norbury, taking Cady’s revelation from the original) “’Cause one thing I know for sure, guys. Calling someone ugly is not gonna make you better-looking. Calling someone else stupid does not make you any smarter. And we as women have to be able to trust and support each other.”
(For Day 17 of NaPoWriMo, the prompt was for a poem inspired by a piece of music and sharing its title. But being rather late and tired, I instead decided to honor International Haiku Poetry Day and keep this entry short.)
Bets and debts galore Wring romance from selfishness. Gambling pays off. ________________________
MPA rating: Approved (should be PG)
Out of the many many musicals from the Golden Age of Hollywood, there are a select few that became institutions in my house growing up, the likes of The Music Man, Singin’ in the Rain, and The Wizard of Oz. As I work on my own musical project, I read a book recently about the merits of various musical productions, and the author had tremendous respect for Guys and Dolls, Frank Loesser’s ‘50s-streetwise adaptation of two Damon Runyon short stories. It was a show/film I had never bothered to seek out, at least until his glowing recommendation.
The plot focuses on two couples, gamblers Nathan Detroit (Frank Sinatra) and Sky Masterson (Marlon Brando) and their would-be lady loves, nightclub singer Miss Adelaide (Vivian Blaine, reprising her stage role) and evangelist Sergeant Sarah Brown (Jean Simmons). Evading his fiancee’s marriage hopes and trying to scrape together enough money for a secret craps game venue, Detroit bets Masterson that he can’t woo the self-righteous Sarah Brown into a Cuban dinner date, even as she struggles to save her urban mission from closure. Naturally, none of the plans go quite as anticipated.
The book I read praised Guys and Dolls as theatrical plotting at its best, with composer Frank Loesser and book writers Jo Swerling and Abe Burrows masterfully weaving two storylines that depended on each other for resolution. With its idiosyncratic dialogue and shifting focus, I can see the reason for the veneration on a technical level, but I do think the two stories aren’t equally interesting. While Sinatra nails the crooning as expected (his character given more singing opportunities than on stage, I understand), I didn’t really care about his plight of scheduling a gambling venue while being a commitment-fearing jerk toward his long-suffering lover Adelaide (whose voice is also rather grating).
I much preferred the parallel story of Sky Masterson and Sarah Brown. I hadn’t seen Brando in a romantic role before, much less singing, but he had quite the swagger back then, and Simmons is wonderful as the priggish believer who gradually lets her hair down a little. Their banter and romance are the best part of the film, along with Loesser’s array of classic showtunes like “Luck Be a Lady,” “Sit Down, You’re Rockin’ the Boat,” and the title song. I think I’ve developed a soft spot for Sarah’s “If I Were a Bell” especially. Yet despite its good points, Guys and Dolls suffers from being overlong and only half-interesting, weakened further by an oddly rushed ending. It’s a bona fide classic, but some parts are more classic than others.
Best line: (Detroit, urging his friend to speak at the mission) “Southstreet, give your testimony.” (Benny Southstreet) “I plead the fifth commandment.”
(For Day 10 of NaPoWriMo, the prompt was to take inspiration from the old newspaper clippings and headlines featured on the Yesterday’s Print website. What caught my eye was from The Tennessean, Nashville, Tennessee, 11/16/1909: “Hundred years hence, women will then run the government, be rich and reign generally.” No surprise then that this film felt like a perfect fit.)
Call her a doll, call her a dame, Call her some other undignified name, Call her a damsel or call her a lass, Consign her to some subservient class At your peril.
Call him an oaf, call him a jock, Call him a chip off the barbarous block, Call him a wanker or call him a stud, Pigeonhole him as a chad or a chud At your peril.
Down with the queens and up with the kings. Down with the gods and up with the goddess. Always we swing to such eager extremes, Thinking so narrow we know not how broad is Our peril. __________________________
MPA rating: PG-13 (for some sexual references)
It took longer than most of the planet, but I finally got around to watching Barbie, Greta Gerwig’s billion-dollar juggernaut that made up the pinker half of the Barbenheimer craze. (I really should try to review Oppenheimer, considering I actually saw that one in the theater.) I’ve heard all manner of opinions for Barbie, some decrying it as feminist trash while others hailed it as a masterpiece of franchise reinvention that brought many female audiences to tears. Well, as a man with no former interest in the famous doll brand, I can declare that I fall squarely in the middle, considering Barbie equal parts dumb, fun, and thematically interesting.
In near-perfect casting, Margot Robbie plays Stereotypical Barbie, the blond archetype who is just one of countless Barbies ruling the life-size toy world of Barbieland, while the second-class himbo Kens mainly focus on trying to impress their Barbies of choice. Robbie’s Barbie begins having “irrepressible thoughts of death” and cellulite, real-world problems shunned by Barbieland and forcing her to seek answers in, naturally, the real world, accompanied by her eager-to-please Ken (Ryan Gosling). There, she gets help from harried mother Gloria (America Ferrera) while Ken discovers the wonders of patriarchal society and plots to change Barbieland in ways beyond their ken (pun intended).
I should note that I watched this film, after much coaxing, with my dear Viewing Companion (VC), who was utterly against it at first. (I think Gosling’s stellar performance of “I’m Just Ken” at the Oscars might have convinced her to give it a try.) She has a very particular view of Barbie from when she was growing up, and the modern incarnation of the doll threatened to corrupt those happy memories. And while I found things to appreciate about the movie, she thought it was an altogether stupid waste of time with muddled messaging and overexaggerated acting. But at least she liked “I’m Just Ken”; that’s one thing even the haters seem to agree on.
The thing is that I don’t entirely disagree with my VC’s complaints. Barbie does have an annoyingly shallow view of the patriarchy and, despite giving voice to some downsides, seems to consider a similarly stratified matriarchy a better alternative, which may please girlbosses but is really no better. Yet the film also has fun playing with its various stereotypes and manages to mix in genuine laughs with the eyerolls, like Helen Mirren’s asides as the narrator or the awesome Pride and Prejudice joke. And while I didn’t find the cringy exaggerations of Barbieland particularly funny, I could see it appealing to other audiences’ sense of humor. I know everyone loves Gosling as Ken, but, despite his great song, I don’t really get his appeal, sorry.
While the pink production design and attention to brand detail and history deserve praise, I’m also mixed on the screenplay from Gerwig and Noah Baumbach. While it plays its excesses off for giggles, the plot is a mess, especially when Barbieland and the real world collide, not helped by the changing motivations of Will Ferrell as the CEO of Mattel (a caricature of corporatism that I’m surprised Mattel approved). Its treatment of what Barbie represents, how patriarchy shapes people, and the pros and cons of living in the real world all seems to play both sides of the argument. I loved her adaptation of Little Women, so, while some dismiss that duality as lazy writing, I have enough faith in Gerwig as a writer to believe it was all intentional to give the film more nuance than the simple narrative at its core would indicate. And the film’s climactic tearjerker scene that goes on a little too long at the end does a lot to deepen the film’s message into poignancy, despite being a drastic shift in tone.
Ultimately, Barbie is not as egregious as its detractors insist nor as innovative as its fans proclaim. It actually recycles quite a bit from The Lego Movie, complete with Will Ferrell as the real-world authority figure. While many decried the Oscar snubs of Gerwig’s direction and Robbie’s leading role, I can’t say I disagree with the Academy here, considering the competition. I will forever wish that “I’m Just Ken” had won Best Original Song over Billie Eilish’s “What Was I Made For,” which is also good but just not as iconic as the anthem for Kens everywhere. Barbie likely won’t become a favorite in my house, but its mixture of dumb fun and existential questions certainly left its mark on the cultural zeitgeist.
Best line: (Ruth Handler, creator of Barbie, with an absolute gem of a line) “We mothers stand still so our daughters can look back and see how far they’ve come.”
Are you new in Oz? I bet so because You’ve the look of someone lost, Exhausted, star-crossed, Like you’ve never seen a witch Or a road of yellow brick Or a beast with perfect pitch. Plus, you strike me as homesick.
But that’s no big deal; I know how you feel, Like a friend I miss a lot, Distraught, but fear not. See, we’ve done this all before, She got home still safe and sound. If what’s past is what’s in store, I’ve no doubt you’re homeward bound. _________________________
MPA rating: G (though PG fits better with some of the imagery and costumes)
Since 2024 marks the 85th anniversary of The Wizard of Oz and the first Broadway revival of The Wiz since its original 1970s run, it seemed like a good time to finally watch and review the film version of The Wiz. (We’ll ignore that this should have been done last year for my Blindspot list.) A modern retelling of L. Frank Baum’s classic story with an all-Black cast and different music, The Wiz was a definite Broadway hit, as its seven Tonys can attest, but I knew nothing about the film, beyond Michael Jackson playing the Scarecrow. So it was interesting going in blind to this version of Oz that has gone from a bomb to a cult classic in the 46 years since its release.
While the core isekai story remains the same, The Wiz is quite visually distinct from the Judy Garland classic, relocating from Kansas to urban Harlem and making the child Dorothy into an adult schoolteacher (Diana Ross) nervous to move away from her family neighborhood. When a freak snow twister (happens all the time in Harlem, I’m sure) transports her and her dog Toto to the dystopian land of Oz, the timid girl gathers companions (Jackson, Nipsey Russell, Ted Ross) on her way to ask the Wizard (Richard Pryor) to send her back home.
The Wiz takes some time to find its footing because I was surprisingly bored through initial set-up, and Diana Ross’s affected diffidence was more annoying than sympathetic. It wasn’t until the arrival of Michael Jackson’s Scarecrow and especially Ted Ross’s Cowardly Lion that I began truly enjoying it as a musical. Jackson plays the Scarecrow as a bashful doormat, pulling quotes out of his stuffing like a burlap Mrs. Who from A Wrinkle in Time, while Nipsey Russell is an affable carny Tin Man with some repressed trauma. But Ross as the Lion truly steals the show, matching the mix of insecurity and self-puffery that Bert Lahr brought to the original film, so it’s no wonder he won a Tony for the same role on Broadway. He also proves to be the MVP of the journey, saving the whole group from a subway come to life, in one of several nightmare-fuel sequences that must have haunted some childhoods. Pryor is a decently mousy Wizard, though he doesn’t have enough screen time to make an impression and doesn’t even provide any insight to the other characters; in researching the Broadway production, I was mainly floored to learn that André De Shields of Hadestown fame played the same role on stage.
As for the music, “Ease on Down the Road” is the film’s most famous number, but “I’m a Mean Ole Lion” and “Don’t Nobody Bring Me No Bad News” are fitting showstoppers for the Lion and the Wicked Witch of the West Evillene (Mabel King), respectively. The disco “Emerald City Sequence” also has some gobsmacking set and costume design that illustrates the Wizard’s power as a trendsetter and contrasts with the urban decay of much of the production design. But the true star of the soundtrack is “Everybody Rejoice/A Brand New Day,” Luther Vandross’s utterly catchy and joyful group dance number with the ensemble celebrating Evillene’s defeat, even if it’s made a tad weird by the freed Winkies cavorting in only their underwear.
The Wiz has zero chance of replacing the 1939 film as the definitive Wizard of Oz musical, but it gives the material a worthy spin. I found some of the exaggerated acting a bit strange or overly childish at first, but the 1939 film was guilty of the same and simply benefits from decades of nostalgia, so I can see why time has been kind to people’s perception of The Wiz. It’s certainly uneven but not a total trainwreck, and its high points are worth the price of admission to its strange urban odyssey.
Best line: (Scarecrow) “Success, fame, and fortune, they’re all illusions. All there is that is real is the friendship that two can share.” (Dorothy) “That’s beautiful! Who said that?” (Scarecrow, modestly) “I did.”
At the turning of the centuries, Though no one knew it then, A babe was born to save the world, Incarnate God. Amen!
But surely you have heard all this; By now it might be trite, The midnight clear, the first Noel, That timeworn silent night.
It’s easy for familiar truths, Traditions every year, To not have quite the gleam they bore When times were more sincere.
Perhaps we may have changed with time, But truths stand hard and fast. Traditions, like God’s promises, Are comfort, for they last.
Although we know them all by heart, We need reminding still, That what the carols advertise Rings true and always will. ____________________________
MPA rating: PG
To complete this trilogy of musical posts, here’s a more recent release from this year. I feel like someone, assumedly director and songwriter Adam Anders, watched The Nativity Story and thought to himself, “This would be even better as a musical” and then made it so. Journey to Bethlehem takes the well-trodden Biblical story of Jesus’ birth and injects a pop-music sensibility that both adds entertainment value while also slightly watering it down.
From the second song, in which Mary is bemoaning her expected role of marrying someone she’s never met, I thought that this was like the High School Musical version of the Christmas story, so I felt vindicated when I read that Anders co-wrote the script with Peter Barsocchini, who also wrote all three HSM movies (of which I remain a fan). So the character types and conflicts are all too familiar, yet the actors make the most of them, with Fiona Palomo as Mary and Milo Manheim (a recent Disney star from the Zombies franchise) as Joseph having an easy chemistry and excellent songs both together and solo. The soundtrack delivers on many levels, some better than others, but highlights include the opening title song and “Mother to a Savior and King,” which explores Mary’s own self-doubt. And I mustn’t forget Antonio Banderas as King Herod, who seems to be having fun mugging through his one song “Good to Be King.”
The plot of Journey to Bethlehem was clearly tweaked from the Biblical record to add peril to the climax and to better space out the musical numbers, so I can understand the decisions on a pure story basis. Yet it felt at times like I was trying to keep track of how many deviations there were from the established narrative. In this film, Herod tries to ignore Rome’s census order but is persuaded to use it solely as a means to find the mother of the foretold Messiah, leading to several close calls where it’s assumed Mary would be immediately recognized as such if she were to be caught. It was also surprising to give a redemption arc to Herod’s son Antipater (Joel Smallbone of the band For King and Country), who gets one of the best songs as well.
Likewise, the wise men, here a trio of bickering comic relief figures (Rizwan Manji, Geno Segers, Omid Djalili), come to Herod even before the census or Jesus’ birth and then leave for Bethlehem (which isn’t far from Jerusalem) to hang out with the shepherds for months perhaps so that they also are witnesses to the heavenly angel chorus. Plus, there are odd omissions, like the absence of Mary’s acceptance of the role declared by Gabriel (Christian rapper Lecrae) during the Annunciation scene or the inclusion of Zechariah’s muteness without any subsequent depiction of his son’s birth.
Yet for all the little things that nagged at me, Journey to Bethlehem is still an entertaining Christmas film, and I never got the sense that the changes were intentionally trying to subvert or undermine the meaning behind the story, which is refreshing. It also boasts impressive costumes and choreography that are far better than they would have been if this were made ten or fifteen years ago. It’s proof of how far Christian films have come. While I’m not quite sure if this movie rises to the level of a perennial classic to watch every Christmas, it’s still a laudable version of the Nativity with a soundtrack that deserves appreciation even outside its target audience.
Rhyme and Reason 