reviews – Page 27 – Ripple Effects

Mamma Mia! (2008) Movie Reivew

If beach reads is to superficial page-turners, then summer movies is to mindless, senseless, jovial entertainment. If you allow yourself to devour less than literature under the summer sun, you can have your fill by indulging in Mamma Mia! Why not, what other times of the year can we immerse ourselves in superficiality, if not in the name of summer fun.

Like the recent re-emergence of past heroes such as Indiana Jones, Rocky Balboa, and the like, I suspect making Mamma Mia! is the mid-life fix for its actors and actresses. And for stars like Meryl Streep, where else can you, as a 59 year-old, sing and dance like a rock diva, jump up and down on your mattress like it’s a trampoline, dance to you heart’s content on a Greek Island with the whole village backing you, and make a splash, literally, to end a wild number. Looks like Streep has the time of her life making this movie. What more, she’s got Pierce Brosnan, Colin Firth, and Stellan Skarsgard swinging and jiving with her.

On the eve of her daughter’s wedding, Donna (Streep) finds herself faced with three of her past lovers who have shown up upon receiving invitation from the bride to be, Sophie (Amanda Seyfried). Before getting married to her sweetheart Sky (Dominic Cooper), Sophie feels the urgency to find her real father and have him walk her down the isle. Director Phyllida Lloyd did a passable job churning out a simplistic but fun-filled movie adaptation of her Tony Award winning musical. What captures the audience is not so much the story but the popular songs written by ABBA’s Benny Andersson and Bjorn Ulvaeus. Titles like “Mamma Mia”, “Take A Chance On Me”, “Dancing Queen”, “Knowing Me, Knowing You”, “The Winner Takes It All”, “SOS”, and “I Have A Dream”… supply the bulk of the movie goers their mid-life fix.

So who cares if it’s a silly, senseless, mindless escape. At least, it works… well, more or less. As I sat in the packed theatre, where families had to sit separately to find seats, where teenage boys came with their mothers, where I heard middle-age men laughing out loud, and where I caught myself watching the movie with a smile on my face and tapping my toes to the tunes, it sure worked as a great escape. Don’t expect in-depth characterization, complexity in plot structures, insightful dialogues, and please don’t mind the miscast (Bond in song?)… it’s summer after all.

Adapted from the successful musical showcasing the songs of the sensational Swedish group ABBA, Mamma Mia! the movie features authentic singing from the movie stars themselves. Yes, there are LOL moments listening to them singing in their amateurish voices. Don’t expect professional vocal performance… from Pierce Brosnan? The fun is hearing him seriously belt out “SOS”, now that’s entertainment. And all ye fans of Colin Firth, he has definitely smashed the Darcy image, if it still lingers in your Janenite mind. Here you can see him play the guitar, sing, hang loose, and dance like a rock star.

There seems to be no middle ground in our summer movies this year: Mamma Mia! is as light and giggly as The Dark Knight is dark and gloomy. If you can overlook the subliminal implications seeping through Mamma Mia: The celebration of promiscuity and the appeal of the stereotypical senseless female, then this movie adaptation is a sure escape. But if you’re expecting more, I’m sure there are other offerings under the lazy summer sun.

Photo Source: Seattle Times and Universal Pictures

~ ~ ½ Ripples

Update December 11: Mamma Mia! has just been nominated for a Best Picture Award (Comedy or Musical) at the 2009 Golden Globes, and Meryl Streep nominated for the Best Actress (Comedy 0r Musical) category.

Sketches of Frank Gehry (2005) DVD

“You can look anywhere and find inspiration.”

—- Frank Gehry

The past couple of months I’ve been tied down with previewing films for an upcoming International Film Festival that I haven’t time to watch films of my own choosing. The past weekend I decided to cease the dry spell and watched the DVD I’ve purchased for a long while but haven’t the chance to view. My only regret: Why did I wait so long?

This is a documentary about and made by two of my favorite artists: Architect Frank Gehry and film director Sydney Pollack (Best Director 1985, Out of Africa), whom I sadly miss upon his untimely passing on May 26. (To read my tribute to Sydney Pollack, click here.) Pollack worked on this film, his first documentary, over weekends
for about five years. An official selection at the 2006 Cannes Film Festival, Sketches of Frank Gehry is his last directorial work.

Pollack has taken a simple and casual approach to present his long time friend Frank Gehry to the viewer, and that’s what impresses me. The low-key yet artistic design of the film is a modest portrait of the architect whose body of work is often associated with rule-defying, bold and striking structures around the world.

Born 1929 in Toronto, Canada, Gehry moved to the United States with his family in 1947. His career spans four decades, establishing himself with renowned projects such as the Guggenheim Museum, Bilbao, Spain (1997), the Vitra Design Museum, Germany (1989), and more recently the Walt Disney Concert Hall, L.A. (2004). The personal and unpretentious portrayal of the architect brings out the mild and human side behind these massive physical structures.

Through informal dialogues, the filmmaker effectively captured the essence of artistic pursuit: the self-doubt during the creative process, the incubation and collaboration of ideas, the uncertainty of the soundness and appeal, and the ultimate exhilaration of the successful completion and reception of the work. Interestingly, the film works like a double-edged sword. It explores the creative process of both the subject and the filmmaker. And it is such revelation that makes the documentary so appealing.

In the beginning was the void:

Sydney: Is starting hard?

Frank: You know it is… I’m always scared that I’m not gonna know what to do. It’s a terrifying moment. And then when I start, I’m always amazed, “Oh, that wasn’t so bad.”

The veteran director had his uncertainties as well:

Sydney: Several people approached him with the idea of making a documentary about him. And when he asked me if I’d do it, I thought he was crazy. Not just that I didn’t know anything about making documentaries, I don’t know anything about architecture.

“That’s why you’re perfect,” he said.

Maybe all our training and experience that we hang on to so dearly are impediments to a fresh, new perspective.

The film gives us the insider view of the Gehry creative process. It is a collaborative effort involving inputs from design partners mulling over paper models and computer expertise transferring concepts to 3D digital mode. Despite the elaborate and sometimes long incubation period, every piece of work begins with the architect’s own signature squiggles on a blank piece of paper.

We see Pollack using a hand-held digital camera to capture more agile and personal shots. As the title suggests, the filmmaker interviewed and chatted with various artists, architects, critic, and even Gehry’s therapist to gain different perspectives into the heart and mind of the architect. He was able to elicit some insightful comments.

Writer and curator Mildred Friedman has this to say about Gehry:

He’s an architect who’s also an artist. He takes so many risks. And that’s what artists do. Artists take risks to do something new that no one has seen before.

Gehry’s therapist Milton Wexler:

A great many people come to me hoping they can change themselves, settle their anxieties, their problems, their marriage or whatever… When an artist comes to me, he wants to know how to change the world.

And from Pollack, when talking about the epic and mythical Guggenheim Museum, Bilbao, Spain:

He sees that the whole reason for being an artist is that moment in somebody’s eyes when you reach him.

The nay-sayer is represented by Hal Foster, Professor of Art and Archaeology, Princeton University, who criticizes Gehry of making a spectacle of his work. We also see montage of printed words from the media, such as “ugly”, and even “perverse”.

Responding to criticisms about Gehry’s galleries and museums competing with the very exhibits they showcase, Julian Schnabel, artist and filmmaker (The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, 2007), defends Gehry’s design with this audacious sum up:

I feel very comfortable in his spaces. He understands scale. And if it does compete with the art, maybe that art isn’t good enough.

Such thought-provoking comments are just some ideas one can mull over long after the film.

I must also mention the original score composed by Sorman and Nystrom. Like a soothing balm, it is pure delight looking at Gehry’s fluid designs with the equally flowing and meditative musical rendering.

The special features on the DVD include a bonus 35 minutes interview and audience Q & A with Sydney Pollack at the L. A. Premiere of the film. The icing on the cake, this feature offers Pollack’s reminiscence of the production and more thoughts on the creative process. A valuable DVD to keep for anyone interested in the artistic expression of the human mind.

~ ~ ~ ½ Ripples

A note on the photos: Arti has the pleasure of visiting two of Frank Gehry’s work. The above photos are taken by Arti in October 2007 and February, 2008. The first two are the Walt Disney Concert Hall in L.A. The last two are different views of The Peter B. Lewis Building at Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland, Ohio. All Rights Reserved.

The source for the squiggles image: Maclean’s Magazine.

My Blueberry Nights (2007)

Shown last year at the Cannes and several other Film Festivals before coming here for a general but limited release, My Blueberry Nights is director Wong Kar Wai’s first English language film. Since his legendary Chungking Express (1994), Wong’s films have attracted a cult following. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed his previous titles like In the Mood for Love (2000) and its sequel 2046 (2004). Let me just describe his style as “Film Noir in Postmodern Colors”. Wong’s films are atmospheric, flashy, up-close and penetrating. His characteristic use of mirrors and small, enclosed settings juxtaposes the reflective and the surreal. Many find him incomprehensible, frustrated at his sometimes self-absorbed artistry.

Wong’s signature directorial style found some new players here in My Blueberry Nights. In this debut film of popular jazz diva Norah Jones, Wong cast her against some very impressive acting talents including Jude Law, David Strathairn, Rachel Weisz, and Natalie Portman. Visually, MBN is a colorful cinematic kaleidoscope. Unfortunately, it remains merely so, for underneath the visual plane, there is not much substance in the script to gratify. It is almost painful to see acting talents uttering cliches and simplistic dialogues, and to even overact to compensate.

Jones is Elizabeth, newly dumped by her boyfriend and finding a confidant in cafe owner Jeremy, played by Jude Law. To escape from the pain of lost love, she leaves on a road trip on her own across America. Working as a waitress along the way, she meets characters who are in worse shape than she is: A police officer (David Strathairn) despair in love, his estranged wife (Rachel Weisz), and a weathered gambler who befriends her and teaches her a life lesson: never trust anyone. This role is played by Natalie Portman…ok, there might be a miscast here, but Portman has delivered some captivating performance. While this is Jones’ first time acting, her unseasoned and naive persona ironically is quite appropriate as the young and impressionable Elizabeth.

All the acting and singing talents however are not sufficient to rescue a deficient script. If you’re not a devoted fan of Wong Kar Wai, or any of the actors and singer here in this film, you might just like to manage your time better. I’ve admired some of Wong’s previous works, but am disappointed at this first piece in a new page of his career. Having said that, I look forward to his future endeavors.

~ ~ Ripples

*****

The Stone Angel (2007): Book Into Film

** The following review contains spoilers**

Since its publication in 1964, this is the first time The Stone Angel is adapted into a movie. As I mentioned in my review of the book last week, whoever that attempts to do this has a formidable task. This classic Canadian novel by Margaret Laurence is a depiction of memories encased in deep inner turmoil. The fleeting and random reminiscence of 90 year-old Hagar Shipley juxtaposing with the present would also prove challenging to bring on screen.

Director, screenwriter, and producer Kari Skogland has made a bold attempt at filling this tall order. Filming the movie in rural Manitoba, The Stone Angel delivers some nice shots of the prairie backdrop, even though Manawaka is a fictional town in the story. The sequences of flashbacks are aptly dealt with quite seamlessly.

The movie has its greatest asset in the cast, in particular Oscar winner Ellen Burstyn (Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, 1974) as Hagar Shipley, and Christine Horne as her younger counterpart. Canada’s own Ellen Page also plays a minor role as Arlene, the girl Hagar’s son John (Kevin Zegers) wants to marry, and of course, against the wish of his mother. The two Ellen’s have some tense moments together. Page’s screen time may be too short though to gratify her fans.

Any fine actor, however, can only perform within the confines of the script. Here lies my major concern: the alteration of the crux of the story, maybe to appeal to a contemporary or a younger audience. The film is a much more mellow and sexed up version of the book. The fiery, ingrained pride of Hagar is much subdued. In fact, she has been changed to an even amiable character. Further, I feel the shifting of the time from the 60’s to modern day somehow trivializes the story. Who would have thought Marvin (Dylan Baker) would be talking on the cell phone and Hagar smoking marijuana…one item off her bucket list?

What author Margaret Laurence has depicted is not just any ordinary stubborn, grumpy old woman, but Hagar Shipley, the tragic heroine, however disdainful. She rages against the dying of the light and doesn’t go gentle with just about everyone because of her deep-seated hubris…even while facing death. The book’s final image of her wrestling the glass of water from the nurse, drinking it without help, wraps up the life of this fierce character. And it’s pathetic to see her pride leading her to make decisions and to act in ways that could well have caused the tragedies in her life.

The scene at the abandoned shed should have led to the poignant, climatic revelation. In the book, Hagar tries to run away from the fate of being confined to a nursing home. She spends a night in this derelict shack and encounters a stranger. During their conversation, she unknowingly verbalizes the pain and guilt she has been carrying all her life by talking about the tragic end of her beloved son John. The name of this newly formed confidant, Murray F. Lees, yes, Flees, points to her perpetual running away from constraints, or maybe even from herself.

But in the movie this stranger is Leo (Luke Kirby), who uses the shed to make out secretly with his girlfriend and then goes on to discuss forbidden sex and share a ‘joint moment’ with the 90 year-old woman. In the theatre, I heard laughter. The pathos that should have accompanied this pivotal scene either did not materialize or has been much lessened.

The portrayal of young Hagar played by Christine Horne, while proficient, may have also missed the gist of the story. We see a beautiful red-hair Hagar and a romanticised Bram (Cole Hauser) immersed in blissful courtship and marriage, at least in the first part of the movie. In the book Bram Shipley, a widower-farmer fourteen years her senior, is as rough and callous as Hagar is proud and obstinate. Their marriage is rocky even from the start, reinforcing the notion that in defying her father, Hagar has made a decision that would later bring her great torments.

By depicting a softer Hagar, and toning down her abrasive pride, the film has diluted much of the poignancy and intensity of the conflicts. The strained relationship between Hagar and her favorite son John has not been sufficiently developed to elicit the emotional impact of the tragedy. Hagar has long placed her hope on John, whom she has esteemed to be worthy to wrestle with the angel, but he ends up breaking her heart. The swift dealing of the mother son relationship in the film fails to depict Hagar, like the stone angel, has been blind to her circumstances. Fortunately, the film has kept the authentic scene of Hagar reconciling with her elder son Marvin, who has taken care of her in her old days. It is Marvin who has wrestled with the angel and won.

The final scene with the Pastor Rev. Troy (Ted Atherton) singing the hymn, touching even the ‘holy terror’ in her death bed, draws the film to a poignant and peaceful close. The audience sees a yielding Hagar going gently into the good night. The voice over of Dylan Thomas’ quote seems inconsistent with what we see. If Laurence could have her way, she likely would have concluded with the last image of the book where Hagar stubbornly tries to drink from the glass without the help of her nurse, defiant to the end.

I have a reader, a student apparently, once asked me whether he should skip a book he was studying in class and just use the movie version for his course work. My advice is, watch the movie for entertainment, but read the book for your assignments… the two could be very different entities.

~ ~ ½ Ripples

The Stone Angel: Book Review

To read my review of the movie The Stone Angel (2007), Click Here.

I first read The Stone Angel years ago. In Canada, if you miss it in Grade 12, you’re bound to read it in your university literature class. Now that the movie adaptation has just been released, I dust off my old copy and re-read it, wondering how much of the book I actually could appreciate when I first read it as a teenager.

The epigraph containing Dylan Thomas’ famous lines sets the atmosphere of this classic Canadian novel by Margaret Laurence:

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Readers soon find Hagar Shipley, the 90 year-old protagonist, doesn’t just rage against the dying of the light. Throughout her life, she has been raging against most anyone who wants to have a say in her life, first her father, then her husband, and ultimately, The Giver of that very Light.

Born the daughter of Jason Currie, a storeowner of Scottish descent and one of the founding fathers of Manawaka, Manitoba, Hagar takes after her father in her tenacity and brimming family pride. Fiercely independent, she has always sought her own way, and heeded only the bidding of her own will. So was it when she refused to comfort her dying brother Dan when she was a child, so was it when she despised her remaining brother Matthew’s meek acceptance of death when he too later died, so is it now as she rebels against her son Marvin’s decision to send her to a nursing home. Pride is her fuel, and she intends to use the very last drop to sustain her independence.

Telling her story in first person narrative, Hagar switches in time as her failing memory randomly darts back and forth. From these glimpses of her past, she frantically grasps whatever that can remind her of her own self: her childhood, marriage, motherhood, and now, her old age.

In her younger days, Hagar’s father had tried to stop her from marrying Bram Shipley, a widowed farmer fourteen years older than Hagar. “Common as dirt…lazy as a pet pig”, her father said of Bram. But she insisted her way:

There’s not a decent girl in this town would wed without her family’s consent” he said. “It’s not done.”

“It’ll be done by me,” I said, drunk with exhilaration at my daring.

As a result, she was disowned by her father, who upon his death, gave all his inheritance to the town instead of his only child left.

Was it love at first sight that Hagar decided to marry Bram Shipley after dancing with him in the townhall? Or was it her admiration for his raucous demeanor and rough independence, accountable to no one, to spite his class-conscious father? Regardless, by marrying Bram Shipley, she chose to live a life in poverty and crude existence. Yet this is the story of Hagar, like the Hagar in the Bible, an outcast from the house of Abraham, wandering in the wilderness, struggling for her own survival and striving for some sort of dignity.

Banished from the Curries, Hagar later in her marriage left Bram and took her younger son John to live on her own, working as a housekeeper, a self-imposed exile. And now in her old age, she flees to escape the plight of confinement in a nursing home. Hagar’s life is one of exiles and wanderings. John, her beloved son, was to her an anchor in her drifting existence. Yet he only brought her heartbreaks and utter despair. His tragic end turned an already callous heart to stone-cold.

Hagar’s escape finally ends as she comes to terms with the tragedies that have riddled her life. During this last escapade, she takes shelter in a derelict shed. The inner turmoil and pains are verbalized as she unknowingly thinks out loud, sharing her past with a stranger there, someone by the name of Murray F. Lees. Yes…Flees.

Her son Marvin finds her the next day and she is hospitalized. By this time, her ailing body cannot sustain another flight. As Mr. Troy the pastor visits her, Hagar asks him to sing:

All people that on earth do dwell, sing to the Lord with joyful voice. Him serve with mirth, His praise forth tell; Come ye before Him and rejoice.

Upon hearing the words in the hymn, she asks herself:

I must always, always, have wanted that–simply to rejoice. How is it I never could?

Thus sends Hagar to an awakening, however fleeting:

Pride was my wilderness, and the demon that led me there was fear. I was alone, never anything else, and never free, for I carried my chains within me, and they spread out from me and shackled all I touched. Oh, my two, my dead. Dead by your own hands or by mine?

The stone angel, which stands hovering over the Currie-Shipley grave, has long been Hagar’s conception of the divine, cold, blind, and mute. But as she rages against fate, or God, she finally sees her own part in the tragedies of her life, a harsh reality she has long been escaping, too painful to face, until now.

Like the stone angel, she has also been blind to her own self and circumstances. At her death bed, she finally sees Marvin as the true Jacob, gripping her tightly for her blessings. The reconciliation is poignant but short-lived, for soon after she recoils into her own prideful cocoon. Wrestling the glass from the nurse, she will not be helped. Laurence finishes the story of Hagar Shipley with this final image:

I’ll drink from this glass, or spill it, just as I choose. I’ll not countenance anyone else’s holding it for me….I hold it in my own hands. There. There.

And then–

Turning such a piece of literary work, so full of internal turmoil, symbolism and deep characterization into a movie? An arduous endeavor indeed. I look forward to the visual experience.

~ ~ ~ Ripples

Then She Found Me (2007)

Let me guess, movie making is as demanding and draining as child rearing…and, if you’re doing both together, well…kudos to you. Case in point, a gaunt and much thinner Helen Hunt. Well, maybe that was on purpose for her role. Anyway, after some intermittent hiatus since her second marriage in 2001 and the birth of her daughter in 2004, the Oscar winning actress (As Good As It Gets, 1997) comes out with a film that she co-writes, directs, and stars in. Then She Found Me shows that Hunt is alive and well, and that she certainly can multi-task.

As a directorial debut, Then She Found Me is a gem of a film. Based on the novel of the same name by Elinor Lipman, TSFM has been on the drawing board for a long ten years. To read NY Times’ Interview with Helen Hunt, Click Here. Hunt adapted the book into screenplay with Alice Arlen and Victor Levin throughout a few years’ period.

Dramedy is the word for this genre of film. The drama component of the movie spurs on some meaningful exploration: of motherhood, adoption, marriage, parenting, faith, and God… But it’s a comedy, first and foremost, and we’re rewarded by its remaining so. The movie is funny, smart, warm-hearted and entertaining…and best of all, we’re spared all the possible preachy sessions that could have come out from dealing with its subject matters.

Juggling motherhood and movie-making could have explained Hunt’s tired and thinner look. On screen, such an appearance is suitably in character, for she portrays a 39 year-old kindergarten teacher April Epner, newly married, and in a desperate rush to become pregnant before time runs out. As an adopted child, April is all the more longing for a baby of her own, thinking of the deeper relationship, bonding and meaning that can naturally come out from giving birth to and raising her own child as opposed to adopting one. To this view, her step-brother, the natural son of her Jewish adoptive mother responds, “No, it’s the same”.

Well, she soon finds out. Her excitement of finally getting pregnant is not shared by new husband Ben (Matthew Broderick). It is obvious that he is not eager to become a parent, or a husband, for that matter. Actually, this news comes to him after he feels that he has made a mistake in getting hitched for life, and has moved back to live with his mother. Sadly, Ben is still a boy, donning a baseball cap and expects everyone, especially his wife, to accept his Peter Pan confusion.

But that’s not all. Just after her husband has left her, April’s Jewish adoptive mother dies. And to top it all off, April encounters her birth mother Bernice (Bette Midler). Well to be exact, her mother has found her. But at this chaotic point in her life, April is ambivalent about coming face to face with her birth mother, especially one who is so brassy, imposing and self absorbed. Bernice is a local TV talk show host. After 39 years of absence, she suddenly decides she wants to find her daughter. But upon questioning by April why she had given her up after a short parenting gig, Bernice may have understood April’s ambivalence. And I like it when the film leaves the queries as queries… simple answers to questions like these are never easy to find.

Helen Hunt and Colin Firth

Confused and emotionally fragile, April finds new romance and support in Frank (Colin Firth), the recently divorced father of a student in her class. His artist wife has left him for another guy and at the moment, she’s travelling the world with him. Underneath Frank’s calm and affable demeanor is a very hurt, confused, and anguished man. If Colin Firth thinks he still has not shed his stereotyped Darcy image, this is the time to do it. His versatility as an actor just shines through in this conflicting character. Once bitten, twice shy. Frank is emotionally vulnerable, yet he also yearns to establish a meaningful and loving relationship with April. The intermingling of two fragile and affable characters is the springboard to some amusing and poignant moments.

As a first time director of a full length movie, Hunt has done a proficient job, despite some minor problems with pacing and congruence of scenes. Certain shots could have been shortened to maximize the intended humor while some scenes ought to be connected more smoothly. The audience may need to fill in the blanks at times. Having said that, I feel that my enjoyment is not tampered a bit. One note of caution though, the language is part of the reason it gets an R rating, and that might turn away some viewers.

Kudos should go to the admirable acting by Hunt herself, as well as Firth and Midler. Midler is effective as a self-serving intruder at first, yet is sensitive enough to change, especially as she empathizes with April’s anxiety … learning to be a mother after all these years. And I must mention Salman Rushdie, yes, the Salman Rushdie, who plays a supportive role as the obstetrician. He has effectively sprinkled in some subtle humor.

Further, I admire Hunt for not shying away from the problem of faith, loss, and God. The plot lends itself naturally to the exploration of these complex issues, and Hunt has boldly dealt with them directly. The religious expressions and prayers uttered might be in Hebrew, but the yearning, and the angst, is poignantly human and universal.

Well, Mother’s Day has come and gone, but motherhood lasts a lifetime. As a devoted single-parent to his children, Frank in the movie has demonstrated that the marriage vow “for better or for worse, in sickness and in health” can aptly apply to parenting. And for all mothers, birth, adoptive, as well as those like Frank, who has to bear the responsibilities as one, it is in the nitty gritty of everyday realities that motherhood, or parenthood for that matter, finds its meaning and fulfillment.

(The indie film is currently being screened on limited engagement in North America. It’s rated R in the U.S. for language and sexual content. In Canada, it’s rated from 14A to G, depending on the Province where it’s shown.)

To read my review of the book Then She Found Me, click here.

~ ~ ~ Ripples

Mansfield Park: Jane Austen the Contrarian

Mansfield Park is probably the most controversial and least favored of all six Austen novels. Drawing the issue of slavery into the limelight, post-colonialist critic Edward Said had certainly stirred up some ripples in alleging Austen’s acceptance of British imperialism with her mention of Sir Thomas Bertram’s Antigua plantation. [1] Susan Fraiman has aptly presented her rebuttal to Said’s argument, noting in particular Austen’s brilliant irony and metaphor upon deeper reading. [2] So here, I would just like to concentrate on Austen’s characterization, which I believe is more in line with her central purpose in Mansfield Park. That brings me to the other major controversy.

What makes a heroine?

Published after Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park presents a very different heroine from that of Austen’s previous success. Fanny Price is often measured against Elizabeth Bennet, consequently being looked upon as inferior. On the outset, Fanny is indeed everything Lizzy is not. First of all, she is physically fragile, easily succumbs to exhaustion and fainting spells, very unlike Lizzy who can take on extensive walks in the outdoors, happily treading through miles of muddy paths. No rosy cheeks from such exercise for Fanny. She may have grown into a fair lady at eighteen, but she does not have Lizzy’s athletic prowess, or her pair of fine eyes, the trademark of her exuberance.

Further, Fanny Price is painfully shy, an introvert. Readers may find her insipid, lacking glamour, but they may be more impatient with her passive, yielding personality. Why does Jane Austen present to us such a heroine, especially after the very lively and charismatic Lizzy Bennet? Well, I, for one, am glad to see Austen has demonstrated her wisdom by depicting an anti-stereotyped heroine. With Fanny Price, Austen has shattered the image of the typical heroine: a captivating beauty, quick witted and forthright, even audacious at times, endowed with energy and charisma. Why is reticence, or introvert nature being frowned upon? When did we start thinking of long-suffering and perseverance as negative traits? Why is humility not getting its rightful esteem? And, why are the quiet, observant and thinking female not as attractive as those who are more expressive, or who possess only outward beauty?

What Fanny lacks in physical vigor, she more than compensates with her inner strength. And it is in the nobility of character that Austen has chosen to depict her heroine. Underneath Fanny’s fragile appearance is a quiet and principled perseverance. Seeing the impropriety of staging a play which entails the remodelling of Sir Thomas’ very private library in his absence, Fanny stands firm in not participating, despite the pressures and insults from her older cousins, the persuasion from the Crawfords, the scornful criticisms from Mrs. Norris, and even the eventual yielding of Edmund himself.

In her ingenious manner with biting irony, Austen pits Fanny Price against her formidable foe, Mary Crawford. At first sight, “Mary Crawford was remarkably pretty.” Not long after that, Austen adds:

She had none of Fanny’s delicacy of taste, of mind, of feeling; she saw nature, inanimate nature, with little observation; her attention was all for men and women, her talents for the light and lively.

When it comes to moral uprightness, Mary Crawford is no match. Thanks to the way she defends her brother Henry who has snatched Maria away from her husband, even Edmund can now see clearly. Henry Crawford is a carnal schemer, and Mary Crawford is equally manipulative and egotistic. Unfortunately, it takes a scandal and trepidations for others to learn what Fanny has seen clearly from the very beginning.

In a way, Fanny Price is more lucid than Elizabeth Bennet in not succumbing to the lure of vanity with Henry Crawford’s superfluous praise and wooing. If only Elizabeth had conquered that soft spot regarding Wickham earlier on….but of course, there wouldn’t be any story then. And if it is admirably bold for Lizzy to resist Lady Catherine de Bourgh, someone who is of no relation to her, Fanny is all the more courageous in her refusing to marry Henry Crawford by standing up against the very guardian to whom she owes her upbringing and her present living, the patriarch Sir Thomas Bertram. It takes extraordinary fortitude to go against everyone in Mansfield Park, and follow her own heart, while the privilege to explain herself is infeasible.

Compared to other Austen heroines, Fanny Price is equally, if not more, worthy. Fanny has the passion of Marianne, while possessing the rationale of Elinor. That is why her secret love for Edmund can endure unfavorable conditions. Her lucid sense of judgement restrains her to reveal it to Edmund, who, with his emotional frailty, would be exasperated knowing his own beloved cousin is a rival rather than a friend of Mary Crawford. Her perseverance can easily match and surpass that of Anne Elliot. And, she may be uneducated and naive like Catherine Morland to start with, and is equally moldable and respectful when taught, she has way surpassed her mentor in insights and maturity as the story progresses.

By presenting a heroine who may not be a typical favorite, Austen seems to be writing contrary to conventional norms. (But is it just modern audience who have differed in their expectations, resulting in recent film adaptations altering the very spirit and essence of Austen’s characters to appeal to them?) Has Austen created a character so different from her other heroines? Comparing Mansfield Park with all her other novels, I do not feel she is particularly off her usual standpoint. As with her other heroines, Austen is more concerned with character, virtues, and morals, the inner qualities of the person rather than the outer appearance. Mansfield Park is the best manifestation of her stance. Ultimately, what shine through for our Austenian heroine are:

…the sweetness of her temper, the purity of her mind, and the excellence of her principles.

At the end, the steadfast and long-suffering Fanny Price triumphs. And for critics who assert that Austen had silently condoned slavery, the ending of Mansfield Park should silent them all, for it is the socially and economically disenfranchised and marginalized that is exalted and vindicated. In my view, Edmund does not deserve her. However, it is Fanny’s heart and long unrequited love that Austen attempts to satisfy. And I totally concur with that, for our heroine deserves it. And no, Fanny does not become mistress of Mansfield Park, which is also ideal: It is not affluence and materialism that win after all, but spiritual values and nobility of character that overcome, and they are their own rewards. The Parsonage is a most fitting place for both Edmund and Fanny to begin their life together.

Notes:

1. Said, Edward W. Culture and Imperialism. (Alfred A. Knopf, 1993). His chapter on Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park can be read in Dorothy Hale’s The Novel: An Anthology of Criticism and Theory 1900-2000. (Blackwell, 2005) pp. 691-715. You can read part of it online on Google Books by clicking here.

2. Fairman, Susan. Jane Austen and Edward Said: Gender, Culture, and Imperialism. Critical Inquiry, 21 (4), pp. 805-821.

To read my other JA posts, book reviews, movie and TV adaptations, and other related books, just click on ‘Jane Austen’ under categories on my sidebar.

Update: You can read this article as well as other interesting and informative articles on Jane and the Regency Period in the Jane Austen Centre Online Magazine by clicking here.

And When Did You Last See Your Father? Book Review

when-did-you-last-see-your-father-book-cover2 I saw the movie When Did You Last See Your Father? at the Toronto International Film Festival last September, twice. I didn’t have the chance to read the book until a couple of days ago, about 7 months later. But as I read, all the scenes came back to me, and I appreciate the film even more than before. Yes, this is definitely a successful attempt at turning Book Into Film…and a hugely impressive one at that. The stellar cast with Jim Broadbent as the father and Colin Firth as the adult son, plus the exceptional supporting roles have brought out the spirit and the essence of the book poignantly, thanks to the very artistic and sensitive treatment by director Anand Tucker. To read my review of the movie, click here.

Blake Morrison is a contemporary British poet and writer. He was literary editor of The Observer and the Independent on Sunday before writing full time in 1995. AWDYLSYF is a memoir of his relationship with his father, Arthur Morrison, who died of cancer at age 75. Published in 1993, the book has won literary awards, and has been translated into many languages, from Japanese to Syrian.

The name of the book has its source in a painting of the same title by the Victorian artist W. F. Yeames. Yeames depicted an imaginary scene during the English Civil War. The young son of a Cavalier (Royalist) was questioned publicly by the enemy, the Roundheads (Parliamentarian), as to the whereabouts of his father. The question posed a serious dilemma for the boy. If he answered truthfully, he would endanger his father. If not, he would be commiting the immoral act of lying. Click here to read the story behind the painting.

And Painting by W. F. Yeames, When Did You Last See Your Father

Such a dilemma finds a parallel in the book. And it is apparent that Morrison has chosen to do the former, for the story he tells is incredibly candid, up-close and personal. As a reader, I’m glad he has done that. Eulogies are sometimes euphemism honoring the dead in order to please the living. But what Morrison has delivered is a courageously honest narrative of a precarious father-son relationship marked by ambivalence and love-hate sentiments. I can sense the pain such exposure could bring to the people involved, his mother, his sister, close family and friends. But I feel Morrison has burst the romantic bubble of the naturally congenial relationships we assume as we look at other people’s family portraits, or see families depicted in movies and novels. Love does not come naturally because of the tie that binds. Respect still needs to be earned, and loving acts need to be learned, for both parent and child.

The 20 independent, short chapters darting back and forth across the landscape of memory record the poignant reminiscence of a son living under the shadow of a powerful father. Arthur Morrison was a revered doctor in the town of Earby, in the County of Yorkshire…revered because of his imposing, domineering and callous demeanor. He could always get his way, and get out of troubles. In his recalling of childhood episodes, son Blake has aptly intermingled humor with pathos, all the more bringing out the complexity of character, and the ambivalence we sometimes feel towards our loved ones. And to be fair, Arthur had cared for his family, albeit in his own patriarchal and egotistic manner.

He was gregarious. In all social situations, he was the one leading the conversation and successfully avoiding topics that he was ignorant about…and was sure to stay away from games like Trivial Pursuit.

He hates feeling fallible: ‘I may not be right but I’m never wrong’ is the motto on a horrible brass wall-plate he has. He isn’t a vain man, but he is a proud, even bumptious one, a man with a puffed chest who learnt to water-ski in his fifties and thought he could go on forever.

How can such a character be brought to face his own imminent demise? Blake Morrison describes his father’s fast deterioration after diagnosed with cancer. The preparation though seemed to be harder for those who were going to be left behind than the patient himself. There was a relationship that needed mending, and, there were truths to be revealed. For years, Morrison had suspected the intimate relationship between his father and Auntie Beaty, a family friend. It had affected his perspective on his father, and on himself as a son. But he wasn’t given such a privilege. Other people’s secrets are theirs to own, even though that person is your father. And the living won’t tell: “Please leave me one last small piece–it’s mine” Auntie Beaty pleaded.

So the pressing question is: How is a son to prepare for the imminent demise of his own father, having lived in such a precarious relationship? The revelation comes at the end of the book. Death and mortality has a way of helping us put things in perspective:

Don’t underestimate filial grief, don’t think because you no longer live with your parents, have had a difficult relationship with them, are grown up and perhaps a parent yourself, don’t think that will make it any easier when they die.

Faced with the finality of death, all grievances one has towards the dying seem minute in comparison. As a son now, Blake has to learn to let go of his father, ironically, a lesson his father had failed to learn in the raising of his own son. Grievances give way to caring, to the consoling of the living, to the respect of a life lived on its own terms, to forgiveness, to closure.

In his Afterword, Morrison writes:

When young, we were impatient with our parents: now we want to atone for our callowness, and to acknowledge what they were and all they did.

Poignant words for us to ponder.

And when did you last see your father? by Blake Morrison is published by Granta Books, London. 1993. 230 Pages.

A movie tie-in edition by Granta Books is published October 2007.
~ ~ ~ ½ Ripples

The Ripple Rating System

At long last, a clarification on the Ripple Rating System.

First, some FAQ.

Q: Why do the movies you review on your blog mostly get 3 Ripples, only a few 2.5 Ripples, and very few 4 Ripples?

A: I love films, but my time is also precious. So I usually pick those which I think I’ll enjoy, or which I’m curious about before I go see them. I’m a selective movie goer, as most people are. The same is true for readers picking which books they’ll read, or music lovers which song to buy…The ratings reflect whether I’ve made the right choice, in a way. So far, I haven’t come across many that compel me to give 4 Ripples… but there are a few…

Q: How do you know which movies you’ll enjoy?

A: I read about them, know the background first…sometimes, I go to the source material and read the book on which a movie is based. I particualrly like to do this because I’m interested in the process of turning Book Into Film … Other times, I go to see the movie first, and then read the book if I am particularly moved.

Of course, the Ripples reflect personal resonances. Nevertheless, they are given after considerable critical analysis and evaluation, and hopefully do not come out as mere impulse. They might stir up ripples among my readers too, and that’s what the comment box is for.

I like NY Times movie critic A. O. Scott’s statement in his introduction to the book The New York Times Guide to the Best 1,000 Movies Ever Made:

” This collection is more likely to start arguments than to settle them, argument being one of the solemn duties of criticism and, more importantly, one of the great pleasures of movie-going.”

You are welcome to express your opinion. But please comment in a way that shows your respect for other readers and yourself.

So here it is, Arti’s Ripple Rating System explained:

~ Ripple = Stay away, I did

~ ~ Ripples = Manage your time better

~ ~ ½ Ripples = Average, Okay

~ ~ ~ Ripples = Good, worth seeing

~ ~ ~ ½ Ripples = Superior, must-see

~ ~ ~ ~ Ripples = Almost Perfect

Smart People (2008)

Smart people is about ordinary people. But unlike the movie Ordinary People, it doesn’t take itself too seriously. It’s also about dysfunctional families, but then again, a look around us can testify that the term “dysfunctional’ has more or less become a cliché, or the norm even. So, the story line and characters in Smart People may well be the story about many of us. We can relate to their situations, or maybe know someone that’s in similar predicament, smart or dumb.

Smart People

The title is an apparent sarcasm. Coincidentally, in my last post I wrote a review on A Room With A View (2007)…imagine the highly-educated but socially inapt Cecil Vyse now a modern day academic, 30 years older, scruffy, paunchy, and ever grumpier… that’s the main character in this movie, professor Lawrence Wetherhold, vividly portrayed by Dennis Quaid. Wetherhold teaches at Carnegie Mellon University, an expert in Victorian literature. Like Cecil Vyse, he is smart with ideas, but utterly unfit for human relationships. Or, maybe a more accurate way of looking at it is, he has given up being a nice person. He’s self-absorbed, overbearing, and maybe himself a victim too, let us not judge so harshly, for he is a widower drenched in self-pity, who leaves his wife’s whole wardrobe untouched some years after her passing.

Living with such a character is his teen-aged daughter Vanessa, played by Ellen Page. Repeating her impressive performance as in Juno, Page portrays an over-achieving high school senior, who aims at nothing less than a perfect SAT score. Little does she know that underneath her pragmatic and vigorous academic pursuit and Republican stance are her youthful curiosity and desires. So, when Chuck (Thomas Haden Church), the wayward adopted brother of her father’s veers into their lives, she is whirled into a pool of confusion. Adding to the complexity of the family relationship is Vanessa’s older brother James (Ashton Holmes), who aspires to be a poet but his Dad doesn’t even know it. James lives on campus where Wetherhold teaches. Despite the physical proximity, father and son could never be more alienated and distanced.

Thomas Haden Church and Ellen Page

All of their lives begin to take a turn when Wetherhold’s car is impounded for illegal parking and he tries to climb over a fence to retrieve his brief case in the car. His toneless middle-aged physique is no match for the 10-foot wire fence, and so he ends up in the ER with a ‘trauma induced seizure’ after he falls over. That’s where he meets Dr. Janet Hartigan (Sarah Jessica Parker). A former student of his, Janet had a crush on him while a student, but due to his harsh marking and pompous air, decided to change her major from literature to biology. Now years later, Janet has the chance to forge a real and meaningful relationship with Wetherfold, a task she soon finds to be too formidable and senseless for anyone in her right mind.

Dennis Quaid and Sarah Jessica Parker

But isn’t it true…we’re matched up with impossible people at work, deal with obnoxious clients whom we have to serve, live with incompatible housemates, and stuck with eccentric and embarrassing family members… Smart People’s smart screenplay offers us the chance to laugh at ourselves, and empathize with other’s deficiencies and shortfalls. By learning to put up with them, we might just be learning to live with ourselves. And in the process, as the movie happily winds up, the characters gain a new perspective on themselves and come out as changed persons.

Screened at Sundance earlier this year, the film is teamed up by the relatively new screen writer Mark Poirier and director Noam Murro. It is rated R in the U. S. and 14A in Canada. Certain scenes may be objectionable to some. But with watching any movie or reading literature, for that matter, they have to be taken in context, and the overall spirit considered.

And, for those looking for smart aleck humor, or fast-paced sequences and an intriguing plot are bound to be disappointed. However, I have precisely appreciated (Professor Wetherhold would be quick to correct me, it should be “appreciated precisely” he’d say) the slower paced story lines that are well-developed along the main characters. The witty dialogues and superb acting from the stellar cast are enjoyable and engaging. A delightful 95 minutes of quiet and intelligent entertainment.

~ ~ ~ Ripples

A Room With A View (2007 TV)

It will probably take another Merchant Ivory production to best an earlier version. The 1985 movie A Room With A View has ingrained in my memory certain images of sight and sound that are difficult to replace, like Lucy opening the window and the camera slowly zooms in the beautiful view of Florence, highlighting the Il Duomo. Or the ending shot of the silhouettes of Lucy and George sitting by the same window… To me, A Room With A View is Kiri Te Kanawa singing Puccini’s aria “O mio babbino caro” (O My Beloved Father), achingly depicting the agony of unrequited love. Further, it is also the humor that underlies the whole story as Forster has intended, as evidenced by the chapter (or scene) titles.

Nevertheless, I came to watch this newest BBC production with an open mind. I was eager to see how a 21st Century, Andrew Davis rendition would present this E. M. Forster love story. Every new adaptation of an old classic should offer us a new vision. With such endeavors Andrew Davis has proven to be relatively successful in the past with his Austen and Dickens adaptations. Here, I anticipate another window opening out to a fresh and different view.

For this adaptation, Davis writes the screenplay as Lucy’s flashback. And, letting his imagination roam, he has Lucy coming back to the same Florentine room in The Bertolini, by herself, as a young widow. So with this in mind, the overall sepia tone throughout fits well with the context, a memory re-lived, through the eyes of a lonely young woman who has lost her husband in the war. The colorless overtone might well depict the sombre mood of a very different Lucy.

But there’s the rub. With this new “twist”, Davis has put himself in a difficult position in that, the present might be sombre and sad, but the past is most vibrant and radiant. He’s got in his hands the difficult task of reconciling the two. What mood should he establish? The sombre loss of the present or the fantastic journey of self-discovery and the ecstasy of a young heart heeding true love of the past? umm…alright, let’s just go on with the show…

I have appreciated the fine cinematography and camerawork. The attraction of the Florentine art and architecture as well as Rome’s grandeur are caught with a sense of depth, not just picturesque shots, ironically, thanks to the lack of color. They are frames from Lucy’s point of view, a well-protected, English young woman’s first encounter with greatness and history outside of her familiar, parochial life.

As for the actors, I have mixed feelings. In the 1985 movie, Helena Bonham-Carter’s fresh persona of Lucy Honeychurch is sensitively matched by Julian Sand’s poised portrayal of George Emerson, an ideal image of young love. Somehow, I don’t feel the chemistry here between Elaine Cassidy (When Did You Last See Your Father, 2007) and Rafe Spall. The film is supported by some excellent acting though by veterans like Sophie Thompson (Emma, 1996) as Charlotte Bartlett, Mark Williams (Sense and Sensibility 2008 TV) as Mr. Beebe, Sinead Cusack as Miss Lavish, and Timothy Spall (Enchanted, 2007) as the elder Emerson. Tim and Rafe Spall dispaly an authentic father son relationship on screen, naturally.

Timothy and Rafe Spall

A weak link I feel is Laurence Fox as Cecil Vyse. No, I’m not trying to compare him with Daniel Day Lewis’s performance, which is inimitable. But I truly feel it’s a miscast here. Fox as a chap who is no good for anything but books, one who is so physically inapt to avoid a game of tennis? Not very convincing. What we have in this TV version is more like an eerie and chain-smoking Wickham or Willoughby. Speaking of which, the smoke screen connecting to his almost every appearance may well be intentional, visually depicting how marred and distorted Cecil is in his view of himself and of others, particularly, Lucy.

Indeed, as the title well conveys, it is the metaphor of seeing that is the key notion throughout the TV adaptation. In order to impress into our mind, the director has us see lots of scenes by the window. But of course, it’s not so much of looking out but looking in that is crucial here. The whole story is built on Lucy’s seeing clearly what is in her heart, and that the one who has drawn her out of her own self-deception is the one who can offer her ultimate bliss, and that is George Emerson. It is not just about Cecil turning down a tennis match, but it is the last straw, the pivotal turning point where Lucy realizes how egotistic Cecil is. Lucy to him is but an object of art and music, but not as a woman, definitely not as a lover. Forster describes it most strikingly, “The scales fell from Lucy’s eyes.” A Biblical allusion no less than an epiphany.

In this case of course, by following her heart, Lucy is making the moral choice of defying the long tradition of the English class system, smashing the inequalities underneath the civility, and unmasking the snobbishness she has been raised to aspire to. In her new voice, as Cecil has noticed, Lucy has announced a new-found insight. As an admirer of Jane Austen along with his fellow Bloomsbury writer Virginia Woolf, Forster might have written lines that Elizabeth Bennet could have uttered, lines like:

I won’t be protected. I will choose for myself what is ladylike and right. To shield me is an insult. Can’t I be trusted to face the truth but I must get it second-hand through you?

Or,

If a girl breaks off her engagement, every one says: ‘Oh, she had someone else in her mind;’ … It’s disgusting, brutal! As if a girl can’t break it off for the sake of freedom.

Unfortunately, these lines find no place in the film.

Forster is not afraid to let us see a very muddled Lucy, being confronted by her own feelings and passions that are contrary to her up-bringing, loving someone from a lower social status. The open view of Italy has offered her a wider spectrum to what she is accustomed to seeing. Here lies the muddled complexity of characterization…For often in life, we are walking confusion, unsure of our feelings, insecure about our actions, isn’t such muddledness the very commonality of our being human?

But thanks to her humility, Lucy comes to realize what is in her heart, and who she wants to be. In her recanting of her engagement to Cecil, she admits to be less educated, not as well-versed in the arts and music as Cecil. Maybe because of that, she is more flexible to explore and to associate with those allegedly seen as socially lower than herself. Here lies the paradox, It takes the uneducated eye to find understanding. Cecil is an intellectual, expert in things but not people, his highly educated mind has done nothing for him but left him in a room with no view.

Zadie Smith in her brilliant 2003 Orange Word Lecture entitled “Love, Actually”, discussed the writing of E. M. Forster and Jane Austen. Regarding Lucy’s gaining insight, Smith observed incisively:

It is not by knowing more that Lucy comes to understand, but by knowing considerably less.

As for Davis’ new “twist” at the end … I think that has altered the whole story from a light-hearted piece of social satire and endearing love story to a sombre drama with an awkward ending. And for the last scene, Lucy going on a picnic with the cab-driver, and their final gesture… I think Davis has gone too far with his gratuitous imagination. If that is the new vision he is offering us, I’d rather stick with the old view.

~ ~ Ripples

*******

Photo Source of window with a view: StudentsVille

Nim’s Island (2008)

I don’t want to miss any Jodie Foster movies. She’s one of my all time favorites. I’m also eager to watch Abigail Breslin again after her Little Miss Sunshine. Further, after reading Annie Dillard’s novel, I just need something light and mindless. Coincidentally, between these two, I only have to change lenses, for the view is more or less the same: the beauty and wonder of nature.

Nim’s Island is a mixture of Swiss Family Robinson, Home Alone, Stranger Than Fiction, and Mr. Brooks. Based on the popular children’s book of the same name by Wendy Orr, it’s about a girl called Nim who lives an idyllic life on a pristine island with her scientist dad Jack. The island’s rich natural resources and wildlife are the sources of Jack’s research and Nim’s pleasure. Her friends are Selkie the sea lion, Fred the iguana, Galileo the frigate bird, and the giant sea turtle…what’s his name? … Anyway, it’s a zoo out there on Nim’s island, but Nim and Jack keep it real organized, educational, and fun.

One of Nim’s favorite past time is reading the stories of her adventure hero Alex Rover (Gerard Butler, P.S. I Love You, 2007). So, when a huge tropical storm hits the island, and her dad hasn’t come home for a few days collecting protozoa samples out in the open sea, she calls to Alex Rover for help. Actually, it is the creator of Alex Rover that emails Nim first, asking about information to write the next novel, mistakenly thinking Nim is Jack’s research assistant.

Far from being an adventure hero, Alexandra Rover, the author, is a recluse suffering from agoraphobia, whose best friend is her Purell hand sanitizer. She hasn’t been out of her San Francisco apartment for months. But knowing Nim is all alone on an island needing help, and prodded by her own adventure hero, she ventures out against her fears. So there’s the interesting set up of the plot, the rest of the story is the adventures of Alex Rover the writer heading to the island to help out Nim, the real heroine.

The film suffers from some scenes and dialogues that appear to be banal and trite. With its interesting storyline I think it can be done better with more creativity and imagination. Having said that, I must say that the movie is beautifully shot on location in Queensland, Australia. In a day and age when kids, and parents, for that matter, find it impossible to have fun outside of video games and electronic gadgets, this movie and the book can offer a wholesome alternative.

There is a new edition of the book that’s a movie tie-in, including 8 pages of color pictures from the film. It is illustrated whimsically by Kerry Millard. A fun read. And for all the budding biologists, zoologists, oceanographers, and for that matter, environmentalists in your home, this is a must-read.

The intended age group I feel should be a bit lower for both the movie and the book. I’d say a target audience and reader Age 6 – 10 would be more appropriate than the now 9 – 12.

The best combination: Go see the movie and then to the bookstore.

Now with that combination, I’ll have to give it

~ ~ ~ Ripples