Book Response #3: Winnie The Pooh

I struggled a bit with reading and interpreting Winnie The Pooh in the context of nostalgia for a bit.  It's been hard to separate my own personal attachment with the material with the aims and ties to the topic that are perhaps what I'm supposed to talk about and engage with.  For someone who views the television show of Winnie The Pooh as a formative part of her childhood, it's hard to talk about nostalgia with the book without referencing my own personal feelings of nostalgia for the characters and situations.  It's been interesting to read the stories for the first time, however, and to put them alongside the blurry remembrance of the show that I have.  I won't compare or contrast the two in any way, but I wanted to talk about my own tie to the bumbling little bear and his friends--if only to establish an already existing longing for something of the past.

The stories within Winnie and the Pooh are, at surface level, incredibly charming and clever.  Filled with surprising wit from seemingly idiotic characters, A.A. Milne handles the foolery of the woodland animals with grace and kindness and love.  I think much of the humor in the dialogue was lost on me as a kid, if the show was anything like the book.  There are themes present in each of the chapters and important life lessons about empathy and friendship that are being conveyed.  The book fulfills its purpose of serving as a piece of literature that a child could consume and inadvertently be entertained and educated.  But there is something else that sits under the surface of the book, and it's hard to completely pin down.

Taking into consideration what we talked about in class about nostalgia--mainly the ideas of yearning for something of the past and of homesickness--I am left wondering what it is about Winnie The Pooh that makes me feel a bit melancholic.  Perhaps it is just purely the memory of enjoying it in my own childhood, or perhaps it's something else.  While reading it, I found myself strangely longing for a part of someone else's life (a strange sensation).  I wonder if this is in any way tied to the strange obsession with the 90's in our current culture or the 80's or the 70's or any other era that we glorify with little to no interaction with the actual decade.  Winnie The Pooh leaves me wanting to return to Old English Times, to go to England, to go to Hyde Park, to eat tea and biscuits, to wear a frilly dress, etc.  This is a culture I did not interact with in my life, but still seems to have made an impression.  Aesthetic and the role it plays in nostalgia is important and possibly inseparable.  It's the walls of a room, and the color of the carpet.  Winnie the Pooh somehow seems to create a homesickness in me for a home I've never had.

Using the actual text as an example, though, there are things in the stories themselves that contribute to a different kind of nostalgia.  Christopher Robin is a young boy who starts in the book as someone asking their father for a story.  It is after that that he is transported into the story and begins to interact with the characters.  The narrator--the father--uses this storytelling technique to give his son something to interact with without the boy actually running off on adventures.  In a way, storytelling is an act that enables the child to leave home without ever having to.  And so, Christopher Robin does just that.  And coming from the perspective of the adult but told in a way that is simple enough for the child to understand and engage with, the adult is also imposing his own nostalgia and desires for simplicity by creating an idyllic and fantastical rag-tag family for his son to go on adventures with.  The nostalgia felt by him is then lived by his son as he recounts tales of friendship and fun.

I feel very satisfied by the collection of stories and have enjoyed the simplicity of it.  Though, with all the best children's media and literature, it's never really as simple as it may at first glance seem.  There's something more to the story of Eeyore on his birthday as he slowly takes his deflated balloon in and out of the honey jar.  It's a sadness and a happiness and that's the closest description to what nostalgia feels like as I can manage.

Children's Media Response: #7

Talking about Whale Rider in the context of diversity is a conversation that could be eons long.  The film handles the portrayal of a Maori Tribe with no apologies and extreme reverence and respect.  It's almost strange for someone with little to no exposure to the cultural beliefs and traditions of those peoples to come into a film that hits the ground running in the middle of a tension between a chief and his son that is based in a cultural tradition.  I, being very unfamiliar with the ways of Maori tribes, was confused for a good part of the beginning.  It took me a little bit to adjust to a language I was unfamiliar with--there was a bit of a learning curve, I guess, to understanding the film.  But once I was able to immerse myself in the world along with the characters, I found great beauty and joy in the traditions and music and beliefs of the tribe.  

But I feel that a conversation that is more complex or more intriguing is not just pointing out the way the film portrayed the diversity of the tribe in comparison with American culture, but the way in which the film was trying to merge contemporary culture with an ancient one.  Mostly dealing with preexisting gender roles, the journey of Pai is a paradox.  By defying ancient tradition, she is also able to continue it and help it to pass along.  She is, essentially, able to save her people because of her breaking the rules.  This film does a great job of showing how, in a different culture, the necessity of growing and adapting ones mind and standards can lead to beautiful and prosperous results.  Pai understands the beauty and breadth of her tribe's cultures and traditions.  She understands something that her grandpa does not, and her journey is less of self-discovery as the new chief of the tribe, but more of a journey of self sacrifice in order to help him understand something new.  

Whale Rider  is a beautiful combination of beliefs across two cultures.  It is a film that I watched as a kid and didn't understand at all.  I wonder where its place is in the children's media sphere.  Is it a film that children will understand?  Or is it something that exists purely as exposure.  I remember watching this when I was younger and feeling alienated by some of the things I was seeing.  I didn't get it, and therefore thought the film was kind of boring.  Perhaps I was too young when I saw it, I should have been ten or eleven instead of only 6.  I do think, though, that it is something that would be beneficial to older children, who can more fully adapt and understand.  I think the early exposure to diversity is really important.  Disney is great, but doesn't give any insight into cultural difference.  

Film Analysis #2: The Wind Rises

For this assignment, I watched The Wind Rises directed by Miyazaki.  This film, a beautifully animated and sound designed film is an interesting film to talk about documentation with.  From our discussions, it was hard to draw the distinction between documentary and the role documentation plays in fiction films.  The film we watched for the week did not necessarily help with this, or at least to me and the way my mind works.  However, pulling from the examples shown in class, I've come to understand that documentation (from my understanding) means or aims to show the coming of age or realization or growth of a child.  Documentation exists to literally do just that: document the shifts and actual growing up of the character.

The Wind Rises, then, takes on the role of documenting the growth of one character: Jiro.  He is a character who makes his way through adolescence in war torn Japan during WWII, and grows up to design the fighter planes for the army.  He lives through many sorrows on his way--falling in love, losing his wife, surviving the war and being away from his family.  Not only do we get documentation of his life and the things he experiences, but we also get documentation of some of the key historical events that were happening during the time of the war and the Great Depression.  The cool thing about it, too, is that not only are we getting documentation of his life and the world but we are getting to see these historical events through the eyes of a character and in context of someone who we wouldn't necessarily get to see otherwise.

With Jiro, we get to see him periodically as he grows up.  Some of the examples we watched in class were more about the exact moments that were specifically poignant or life-changing in a person's life.  This is still the case with this film, but we get to see moments of importance and blips of significance as we follow along with the character.  It's like watching someone's timeline: the moment they fell in love with planes and aircrafts, their days in school as they learn their craft, a day where fire and war took over and caused tragedy, the moment they met the love of their life, the times they spent with their best friend, the day their wife died, etc.  All of this is shown to us in sequence, but condensed in time.  In a few short hours, we get to see the entire journey and arc of one man.

It's perhaps in the end when Jiro's wife dies that the true importance of documentation shines through.  I've found that the event itself is what holds significance and weight, and not just the lesson learned.  The lesson almost comes later, with reflection.  When life happens, one has to just kind of endure after it.  It never truly goes away, it possibly never even gets easier.  But it does, however, get easier to continue on.  Maybe this is the thing about the movie that was so interesting and compelling.  There is almost no closure to the trauma and the tragedy, there is just continuation.  I liked that aspect of his story.  Whether there were good things happening or bad things happening, it all just had to keep going on.  There's a nostalgia and an impermanence in his story.  But we don't get to dwell on it.  We just move on.

That's kind of the beauty of documentation then.  Because life does indeed move on without our consent, we can have media and home videos to preserve and to contain.  It's kind of amazing, actually.

! Response to Matilda the Musical !

"And these children that you spit on

As they try to change their worlds

Are immune to your consultations

They're quite aware of what they're going through."

-David Bowie

Kids understand more than we give them credit for.  I've said this many times in my responses in this class, but I mean it more here than I ever did before.  I think the difference between children and adults is a topic that Roald Dahl was always trying to bring up.  Across all his works, we can see clear patterns in the characteristics and behaviors of the adult characters.  A few words we could throw out would be neglectful, rude, evil, ugly, fowl, or biting.  Whether we're talking about the treacherous Trunchbull or the ambiguously mean Willy Wonka, the adults all have an air about them that separates them from the children.  One exception to this rule, however, is the character of Miss Honey in Matilda.  I spent a long time wondering what the reasoning behind making Miss Honey a nice adult was, and came up with a few different answers.  A possible explanation is that the child-genius Matilda needed to have at least someone on her side--someone who could eventually take care of her.  Or perhaps it is that Dahl didn't necessarily think ALL adults were evil.  However, the answer that I think works best in accordance with the subject matter of the musical and book is this: Miss Honey is not really an adult.  In this reimagining of the beloved children's book, the biggest overarching theme that I could pull out was that of bravery being the most important tool for change in ones life.  The children are all portrayed as beautiful, wonderful, eager to love and learn humans; the adults are all portrayed as the opposite.  Miss Honey survives the story as a kind compassionate woman, yet still upholds dishonorable traits--she is scared, beaten down, and a pushover.  I submit  that Miss Honey, in Roald Dahl's eyes, is not actually an adult.  She instead is the child of  the story,    and Matilda takes the role of the adult as she guides Miss Honey to find her voice and her courage.

To tie in this musical with our discussion on experimentation is quite easy.  It's clear that when you sit down to watch this show there is a lot at work that is unconventional and non-traditional.  Right from the start, we are thrown into choreography that resembles the wild energy of children. Everything is really sharp and perfectly timed--the children dance by hitting specific poses.  As they sing about how their parents think they're miracles, they jump and yell and do naughty things, and it's very  contrapuntal.  When Matilda is introduced, we also get to see the difference between her and her classmates, because she instead sings of how her parents say she's a "nasty little worm" or a "bore."  Matilda is subjected to abuse throughout the entire musical, but remains level-headed and calm and wise about the situation.  She knows when people are being unfair, and she knows that she deserves something better than what she has.  Her choreography for her solo numbers is really influenced by boxing and karate--she hits battle poses and strikes the air with her hands more than others.  This stylized dancing is reflective of her inner desires and motivations to fight to get what she needs.  So,   at first glance, while the choreography seems very strange and unrealistic, it's actually reflective of  the nature of children and their desires to be heard and taken seriously.

The design also is experimental in its own way.  The color scheme seems to be bright greens, pinks, and blues--brighter than you think they'd be.  Set pieces seem to glow, and the lighting enhances the weirdness of it all.  I've noticed a certain grossness that exists with Roald Dahl's works.  He   understands the appeal of weird and nasty to children.  Everything from the clothing the parents wear to the insults Trunchbull makes is a little bit gross, and it's really refreshing.  I think we need to see the contrast between our world and this particular world in order for the aesthetic to tell a message.  Perhaps children need to know that the weirdness is a cue for them to understand that the bad evil adults are metaphors or exaggerations.  I think it's probably important for children's media to be fantastical for them to make the distinction between reality and fiction.

One more thing I want to reiterate is the adult-ness of Matilda.  I think portraying such a young girl as so mature and controlled and smart is a really honorable way of portraying a child.  THere are    children that I think feel and act this way.  They are small adults in tiny bodies and are quite aware of  their shortcomings and their disadvantages.  I think more children are like this than we  are aware of.  There's a nice number called "When I Grow Up" in the musical in which the kids dictate what they want and will do when they grow up and can make their own decisions.  They sing idealistically about how they will "watch cartoons until [their] eyes go square" or "eat sweet everyday" or "go to bed late every night."  This is their anthem of advocation for some kind of charge in their lives and is a bit sad because we, the adults, know that they won't ever get there.  Those children that sing that song are then followed by Miss Honey arriving on stage and singing a verse that reflects her own follies:

"When I grow up,

I will be brave enough to fight the creatures 

That you have to fight beneath your bed

Each night, to be a grown up." 

This is then followed by Matilda singing about her own personal convictions :

"Just because you find that life's not fair 

It doesn't mean that you just have to grin and bear it.

Even if you're little you can do a lot 

You shouldn't let a little thing like little stop you."

The two verses sung next to each other provide us with the ultimate insight to the inner emotions and expressions of the characters, and provide a nice thematically framework for the theme.  We learn here that Matilda, though small and young, is the one who understands more about what life requires.  Miss Honey remains the child, stunted and afraid, and in need of help from her smaller counterpart.

Overall, it's a very beautiful musical that has an important message and then is just filled with energy and imagination and fun.  I feel it's one of the smartest and most cohesive works I've ever seen on stage.

Children's Media Response: #4

God Bless The Child (2015) is a hybrid documentary/fiction film following a family of five children living through a summer day without the supervision of a parent.  This film, made and directed by the  quintet of children's own father, is a really interesting documentation of the children and the way they interact with one another and survive one another.  Throughout, there is a clear and prevalent love experienced and shown by each one of the kids, and despite their lack of parental attention and care they still seem to endure together.

I really liked our discussions of documentation in class last week.  I feel, that this is where we veer away from talking about media FOR children and start talking about media ABOUT children.  I would say this film is for adults, as it plays on the nostalgias of childhood and showcases the joy and sorrow of childhood, presenting its audience with a clear and abundant love for kids and what they are.  Each child in the film is, essentially, perfect in their own unique way.  The things they rejoice in are good, the ways they love are good.  They exist and thrive in goodness and in indulgence.  The eldest, Harper, is shown as a mature mother.  She takes the role of mom when their own mom is not there, and she represents the adult viewer in the film.  She has grown up and matured too early, and the way she interacts with her younger siblings holds the weight and sadness of an adult, but is still holding the young hope of a child too.  She is shown by the filmmakers with as much love as she shows her siblings.

I have found that the preservation of childhood is something that we are interested in discussing in this class and that almost every piece of children's media holds to be important.  It's almost as if we are all trying, in some way, to figure out this weird limbo in our minds where our memories of childhood exist.  It feels as if everyone is trying to get back or try to understand or relive some piece of their past.  This film is clearly getting at some statement of what children are and how precious childhood is.  It points a finger at those who are young and have untainted personalities and minds and says, "isn't this what we want? Isn't this what we need to get back to?"  I felt the filmmaker's own love for his children in this film and a melancholic desire to protect and preserve them in the way they are and were.

Documentation does that.  It gives us the ability to freeze time and keep people the way they are forever on a strip of film or digital file.  It allows us to hold on to something that eventually becomes shrouded and obscured.  And because of this, we can have films like God Bless The Child, which not only serves the purpose of being a showcase of childhood and goodness but also the documentation of a family, and how they once were.

Film Analysis #1

MARY POPPINS (1964)

This is not a story about children.  Filled with fantastic colorful sequences of animated creatures dancing and chalk full of delightful musical numbers -- it could be very easily categorized as a film that children would enjoy and could easily be a piece of children's media.  However, despite the beautiful imagery and light-hearted comedy, a very solemn and stern message sits at the heart of the film.  While it can be a piece of media enjoyed by children and adults alike, the film adheres firmly to its pro-family messages, and acts as a cautionary tale against neglectful parenting.

I remember, as a kid, loving this film.  There were so many fun parts of the film that I enjoyed acting out with my sisters and singing along to.  It was a jovial jaunt of ride for me, and I was able to use this film as a way to live out my own wild fantasies.  However, watching this film now, with many years in between viewings, I've found it to be one of the saddest films I've ever seen.  The way the film so clearly establishes the rift between adults and children is harrowing for a good part of the film.  It's clear very early on that the main problem in the family is the Father's lack of interest and attention in his family affairs -- pinning the root of the problem on his priorities being in the wrong place.  Mr. Banks' idea of being a man and being a good parent all relies on precision and order.  Very explicitly stated by his song, "The Life I Lead."

[Mr. Banks]: It's 6:03 and the heirs to my dominion
Are scrubbed and tubbed and adequately fed
And so I'll pat them on the head
And send them off to bed
Ah! Lordly is the life I lead!

The children are introduced as "problem" children, and they have been through many different nannies (all who have been run out by the naughty children).  They are shown as not wanting to do their chores or go to bed or follow the rules.  They long for sweets and kindness, and when they try to tell their father about it, he is too prideful and stubborn to listen.  When we jump to the end of the film, having gone through a journey of lessons and musical whim, we get to the ultimate lesson learned--that of Mr. Banks learning that he was the one who was wrong all along, not the children.  Bert sings of this lesson in a very sweet reprise of the tune from Mr. Banks' song from earlier.  Mr. Banks starts the song again by lamenting on how he had dreams of being something more than just a man.  He sings of how his plans were dashed and ruined, and his life in shambles all because of Mary Poppins.  This is when Bert steps in and corrects him, and tells him about the actual problem at heart:

[Bert]: You've got to grind, grind, grind

At that grindstone

Though child'ood slips like sand through a sieve

And all too soon they've up grown

And then they've flown

And it's too late for you to give

Just that spoonful of sugar

To 'elp the medicine go down

Mr. Banks does eventually have the change of heart that is required of him for the film to reach its resolution.  And then, when all is said and done, what the children really needed was love from their father.  Perhaps even their mother as well.  It is right for Mr. Banks to have dreams and aspirations.  However, the film very explicitly admonishes against those dreams being intrinsic and materialistic and worldly.  It instead advocates for a parent's dreams to be centered around creating a loving environment for the family.  After all, what is the good of having anything in the world when you don't have people to share it with?  Bert ultimately was warning Mr. Banks that if he continued to push his children and wife away, he would be alone in the world.  He advocates sweetness as opposed to morals. 

So, in the end, this film feels more like a story for fathers and mothers, and less so for children.  Perhaps it is supposed to warn and aid parents in the right direction, to help correct or prevent families from being broken down.  It is so clearly dealing with an adult problem and presenting a very clear moral to adults, that it is hard for me to know what exactly children take away from the film.  But, perhaps that is not the problem.  The problem is, in actuality, that there are parents who neglect their children, and the solution is not always a film.  But what a noble and beautiful way of addressing the issue this film is. 

Children's Media Response: #3

Looking at some of our media examples from class and from the assigned homework readings/videos, I feel as if I understand fairly well what the inquiry topic means in regards to children's media.  I have a good grasp on what that is and what it does.  A child is a new human: someone who is venturing into an entirely new planet.  They are curious, they are wild, they are students of every facet of life.  This leads to a need that their developing minds have.  They must try to understand what is around them.  I feel that there are many different ways in which they can learn--and media in its various forms is just one of them, but a very effective one.

The They Might Be Giants album about science is a really nice example of a healthy and fun piece of entertainment to expose a child to.  It utilizes animation and absurdity and catchy tunes to get some complicated or confusing information out.  I would say that even as an adult, I still learned a new thing in every song.  The videos and songs were informative and creative and varied in topics enough to keep the journey fun and stimulating.  This is something that is important for children, who tend to have shorter attention spans.  The videos are short and fun enough to keep them engaged. Not only that, but they are still promoting good ideologies and ideas.  They are still prompting kids to be nice to the environment by driving an electric car, or to be nice to animals who provide us with many resources.  

We talked for a second in class about some hidden ideologies in different things that children engage with, and I stand by those ideologies not only being present but as being active and playing an active role in the developing minds.  Kids are way smarter than they get credit for.  Especially because they are students, they are watching carefully.  Children are eager to understand and eager to learn.  They see something, and while they may lack some of the analytical tools that adults have, they still analyze in their own ways.  A kid can still watch Pinocchio and come away from it with the knowledge that bad decisions = bad consequences, and they can still come away from the science music videos and know that an electric car is better than a gas car.  They are understanding, and they don't want you to baby them.  

That's a big part of being a kid--is knowing that you are one.  People tell you all the time and overtly leave you out of discussions or dismiss you because you are young and small.  And they are right. You're not ready to watch Star Wars yet, or you shouldn't watch a bunch of people kiss.  But sometimes what you want is to be treated like a real person.  It's a strange line to walk, and I don't really know why I'm talking about this, but it seemed relevant this week.