Am I OK with Tay Tay on Time Cover? Sure

From Reuters, Time magazine released image of it's Taylor Swift covers.

As a choice for 2023, I don’t think Time Magazine missed by naming Taylor Swift as its person of the year.

In some ways, it’s her second time, since she was part of the group of women on the cover when “The Silence Breakers” appeared in 2017.

But there’s no doubt that Taylor Swift is huge this year, and it’s a testament to her enduring power as a performer. She’s lasted 16 years as a star in the fickle world of popular music, and she has used some savvy moves to make herself the center of an entertainment empire. Which culminated this year with the ongoing Eras tour/movie and the cover of Time.

When Swift first started to make it as a singer, I wasn’t much of a fan. Her early songs were country pop, and that’s not my jam. “Tim McGraw,” her 2006 first hit, isn’t something I’ve listened to very often.

With Swift, her songs are often promoted by and appear as popular videos, and the one for “Love Story,” 2008, is slickly produced, but the arc of the song is irritating to me. The country music feel here didn’t help, but the real “Romeo and Juliet” wasn’t a love story, it was a tragedy about manic infatuation that left a trail of bodies in its wake. If he was Romeo and you were Juliet, you two would be dead now.

Then again, I didn’t hate early Taylor. “You Belong with Me,” 2009, shows that her voice has matured a bit. Her lyrics were getting better, and her sound is transitioning.

It’s still country, but definitely more at the pop end. And, true, the video is ridiculous, with evil (dark) Taylor contrasted with nice (blonde) Taylor—and Swift’s female pop-singer supermodel level good looks make her ineffective playing the wallflower.

Since those early years, Swift’s songs have grown more sophisticated and relatable. She began to get sassier and edgier after her teen moon-eyed faze.

Think of “Mean,” released in 2011. Still country, but the lyrics are getting more fun. “Someday, I’ll be living in a big old city and all you’re ever going to be is mean.” Maybe it’s a little thin skinned, but given where she is now, I guess I’d have to say it’s accurate foreshadowing—someday she did indeed become big. And big is an understatement, although she wasn't all that small in 2011, either.

I was getting a bit more into Taylor Swift. 2013 was the year of “22,” and “Red.” “Red” seems so raw and sincere—a song I can listen to.

And “22”? Even in my 60s, I can recall being that young, and Swift captures the feeling of young adulthood very well.

Plus: “happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time” is a way many of feel at any stage of life.

More mainstream pop and more adult Taylor Swift produced one of the most watchable music videos ever in 2014: “Blank Space.” And that year, she also advised us that she was going to “Shake it Off” about media critiques of her life.

The "Shake it Off" video shows a woman at the top of her video-making and song-making game.

Thus, by about 10 years ago, Taylor Swift was creating songs that an old man still finds interesting, relatable and listenable—and she’s only grown from there. In 2019, there was “You Need to Calm Down.”

A rumination on both anti-homosexual culture and the nature of celebrity, "Calm Down" is a relevant, interesting song. Totally on my playlist today.

Then came 2020, and “The Man,” one of my favorite Taylor Swift songs and music videos. Yeah, the nature of media attention to you would be very different, Taylor, if you were a guy Taylor rather than a girl Taylor, and way to point that out.

I tend to be a little behind in listening to Taylor Swift’s music, so I don’t have as much to state on her more recent songs, except that perhaps my favorite Swift song of all time, so far, is 2022’s “Anti-Hero.”

“I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser, midnights become my afternoons.” In my speech classes, I try to teach students to begin any public discourse with an attention-grabber—and has anybody ever heard those opening lines and not wondered what’s coming next? And what comes next is, to me, interesting and compelling poetry.

“I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror.” It’s always easier to look out at the world, even to burn our eyes with a dangerous look (don’t stare directly at the sun) than it is to understand the self, to stare directly in the mirror.

“Did you hear my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism, Like some kind of congressman? (Tale as old as time).” Give Swift credit, she seems to be doing a bit of mirror looking here.

I have mixed feelings about the official music video for Anti-Hero—the little sit-com funeral scene is OK, but interrupts the song. Since she wrote and directed it, I blame Taylor Swift for that. It’s her, she, she’s the problem.

But I love the song. It touches on one of the great human problems—in all of our lives, isn’t it often true that we feel like monsters on the hill rather than sexy babies? And don't all of us sometimes recognize "I'm the problem?" So here is the lyric version of the song video; it's not as much fun as the official song video, but uninterrupted:

A few weeks ago, I was at an event put on by Guardian Institute of Martial Arts, a school in Marion that is run by my daughter and her husband. Some of the black belt Taekwondo instructors there are teen girls. I think it could have been my daughter, but someone mentioned to them at that event that I’m a Swift fan.

Three of them came over to ask. Yes, I said, I am a bit of a Swiftie. No, I know, I’m not as obsessed with Taylor Swift as a true Swiftie is, nor do I have a friendship bracelet. I meant that I am aware of her music and that I’ve grown to enjoy it. I am a fan.

The girls were pretty excited about that. They love TS, too. And that’s nice. Often, popular music and musical choices shift with time. For most of us, our most enduring favorite songs were ones that we encountered as teens or young adults—there’s something about the soundtrack of key transitions in our lives that sticks with us, like the smell of fresh bread baking that can draw you back into your mom’s kitchen. When I hear an early Heart song, I’m taken back to my youth.

But I don’t mind listening to newer music. And I don't know what is says about me, but I do have a thing about female performers. While I can think of many men whose music I enjoy, I am drawn to female singers.

And enjoying new creations, I think, is important as I age. I still live in the world of today. True, these days, music is over-produced, and there was some raw energy and honesty in the pre-disco music of the 1970s that I really like. Yet here I am. Taylor Swift is person of the year. It’s a meaningless media accolade, but I don’t mind this weird annual ritual created by Time magazine.

And I don’t argue with the choice this year.

Celebrating Human Intelligence in AI Era

Grandson noticed how light shone through his picture when he put it up in a window.

I am not always that thrilled with AI. I see lots of images crop up on social media showing pictures created by AI, and I find it discouraging.

I don’t want my art created by AI programs that are basically just ripping off large collections of human-art. I don’t want Chat GPT creating my sentences for me. I know that AI is all around, and I’m sure I benefit from it in many ways, but I still worry that we’re in danger of forgetting ourselves. I suppose the algorithms at Meta and Google that are always watching take advantage of AI technology, too. I don’t want to be a Luddite, but I’m not ready to say it’s OK to serve up AI-created gruel rather than humans taking the time to create.

So, I enjoyed several reminders of human intelligence, inefficient and limited as it is, in the past few days.

In one of my classes, we held a spelling bee on Friday. That is a rather quaint and old-fashioned exercise in the era of commonplace spell check and more sophisticated writing aids, but as I told the students, tuning into the actual spelling of the words you use means getting to know those words better.

In five students participating, one young woman stood out and handily won. We chatted after class, and she credited her upbringing. Her mother, a school teacher, had emphasized language skills and reading to her children, and this student had been an early reader.

The winner of the spelling bee.

True, spelling is something you should use computer aids for, in my opinion. But I liked the old exercise, emphasizing that your own understanding of words in your own brain still matters.

That Friday afternoon, my wife and I attended a musical, “The Lion King,” at Kennedy High School. The play was well cast, the teens really got into their parts, and the young kids and older folk in the audience enjoyed the show.

There is something raw and real about live theater, and this was a very pleasant experience. Sunday, I’m planning to attend “The Wizard of Oz” at TCR—another point of contact with the possibilities of human creativity.

Then, on Saturday, Dec. 2, the Cedar Rapids Art Museum had a Family Fun Day. The museum was free to enter that day, and there were various activities for kids. My wife, one of my daughters and I accompanied three grandsons to the day. They enjoyed moving about the galleries, and we created little games for them there, such as “find the painting with a lobster” in one room, or “find the picture of the father and son” in another.

Grandsons watching video as part of display in Cedar Rapids Museum of Art.

They created greeting cards, pop-up books and “blind” art drawn with their eyes closed. It was a fun time to enjoy images that reflected the humanity of their creators, not an AI compilation of what a genre of image should look like.

I am unsure about the implications of AI, and I need to learn more. I hope that it evolves into tools that we can control to enhance our lives and not the robot overlords who will end us.

In the meantime, I’ll enjoy some human efforts. A young woman who can sure spell. Teens who can become animals on stage. Grandsons scurrying about an art gallery, enjoying the images there.

At the dawn of the AI era, I take some comfort in simple, human skills and creativity.

Fall Film Festival: Francis Calls for Action

Two Mount Mercy students watching one of the videos as the Fall Diversity Film Festival.

I feel the need to get a copy of “Laudato Si,” a 2015 encyclical by Pope Francis. I know I can read it for free online, but I would prefer a booklet version.

On Friday, the Department of Social Work at Mount Mercy University held a “Fall Diversity Film Festival.” You could go to Flaherty Community Room, grab some popcorn and a beverage like hot cider or hot chocolate, and then choose another room in Basile to view a film.

Six films were offered, but due to having a music practice Friday afternoon, I was only able to view two. Before going to the Chapel of Mercy to practice ringing hand bells, I watched “Coexistence Architecture: VinziRast-mittendrin.” It was a six-minute look at a project in Vienna where people in need are housed together and work at a restaurant. I liked that film, then went to my bell practice, and came back.

For my second film, I selected “The Letter.” My plan was to watch half of it and them probably head home for the day because the showing was broken into part 1 and 2—but instead, I stayed and watched the whole thing. It was too compelling to stop.

The 2022 YouTube documentary is about an invitation sent by The Vatican for various people (among them two scientists from Hawaii, a climate refugee from Senegal, a 13-year-old climate activist from India, an indigenous chief from the Amazon region) to meet Pope Francis as representatives of the many types of people who experience the negative impact of climate change.

The event was set up by the Laudato Si Movement, named after the Pope’s 2015 encyclical “Laudato Si” which he wrote as a letter to all of humanity, enjoining us to wake up to the environmental crisis we face. I know that the event was, to some extent, a PR stunt, but it was genuine, too. The voices of these people were important to listen to.

The central problem that Francis spoke about in the film is that humans don’t seem to understand how urgent it is to act to reverse global warming.

“We see what is happening, and the worst thing is we are becoming used to it,” he said.

MMU student enjoys popcorn while watching a film.

My favorite person to watch in the documentary was Ridhima Pandey, the 13-year-old girl from India. The documentary features all of the people getting their invitation to meet Francis in Rome, and she was clearly excited as only a child can be. And yet she was also smart and mature for her age—sometimes, the young have not yet had their vision clouded by years and can speak and see clearly.

Then there was the heartbreaking moment when Arouna Sande, a climate refugee from Senegal, gets a cell phone call from a friend who joined other climate refugees on a dangerous boat journey to reach Europe. Most didn’t make it when the boat sank.

Anyway, I really enjoyed the event and only wished I had seen more films. I was moved by “The Letter,” and I hope others will be, too. Fortunately, the full film is available for free on YouTube:

Is Barbie Kenough to Save Barbie?

Spoiler alert: I’m going to share my thoughts on “Barbie,” the recent movie. If you haven’t seen it, you may want to move along, citizen. I’m writing with an expectation that the reader has seen the movie. Perhaps “spoiler” is not really the right term here, since it’s not a thriller with unexpected plot twists, and so much of the pleasure of this movie comes from its appearance and pacing so that even if I spill some plot twists for you, I hardly think it’s possible to spoil the movie—so maybe it’s OK to keep reading anyway.

It’s up to you. You have always had the power to become fully human if you want to. But you’ve been alerted that I watched it and am writing freely about it, so let me write at you the way that Ken plays a guitar at Barbie.

“Barbie,” the 2023 movie by Greta Gerwig, is one of those films that is aesthetically for kids, but in reality, is very much for grownups. It’s a sort of reverse “Toy Story,” only it’s the real world that isn’t understood by the toys, not the toy world that is hidden from our reality.

The film was rated PG-13, and anybody who took a young girl to the movie without pausing to wonder why may have had some explaining to do—but I appreciated the movie on many levels.

Like Gerwig’s “Little Women,” it takes a classic and uses it to launch a feminist critique of modern society. In this case, the classic is not a 19th-century novel, but a beloved and behated classic plastic toy.

The movie also reminded me a bit of “Scott Pilgrim vs. the World,” in that it’s set in a reality that clearly isn’t fully real. Of course, Babie Land is entirely fantastic. It represents an alternative universe that is created by the dreams of girls playing with Barbie, a point indirectly explained by the excellent unseen narrator (Helen Mirren) who now and then provides wry commentary during the film.

It’s not a perfect film. I was mildly irritated with the pink ninja scenes where the Mattel mom and her daughter and Barbie were separating Barbies from their Kens, because it was using too many easy clichés about men. Then again, some of the writing here is as snappy and witty as the rest of the movie. Having Ken say “sublime” when Barbie agrees to be his girlfriend again was unexpected and worthy of chuckle. I liked that Ken said he would play guitar “at” Barbie, too. But I wish Madam President would allow the Kens one seat on the Supreme Court, maybe in honor of Ruth Bader Ginsberg.

And I don't even have time to write about the songs in the movie, beyond the witty aside at the end of this post and that I've never appreciated the Indigo Girls more. There. To be fair to the film, I spoiled this blog post as well as the movie.

But even if parts of it got a bit too campy even for me, so much of the movie was delightful. Margot Robbie made a perfect Barbie, and was believable when she suffered her existential crisis (even thought, as the narrator wryly points out, she was the wrong actor to worry about not being beautiful enough). She’s not the only great cast member.

At first, I didn’t care for Ryan Gosling’s Ken, because, to me, the look was wrong. If anything Michael Cera’s Alan looked a little more Ken like—despite having some plastic abs, Ken was a smooth, mild pretty boy doll, not a jacked macho man.

But Gosling won me over. He’s not an adult in the film, but a 7-year-old girl's idea of a boyfriend for Barbie, and Gosling does a great job—I particularly like his awakening to the patriarchy in fake Los Angeles (the real world, here, is a “Scott Pilgrim” like real world—set in LA, but more in the idea of LA). He loves a world run by men and horses. His looks back at Barbie as he leaves her sitting on a park bench were poignant and hilarious at the same time.

Warner Brothers publicity image, Ken and Barbie, Ryan Gosling and Margot Robbie. Downloaded from a story on the BBC web site.

And Kate McKinnon? Weird Barbie as the wise and despised oracle of Barbie Land was a total hoot. And so much of the movie was adults looking back nostalgically at a childhood icon—as America Ferrera’s Gloria had a Weird Barbie, didn’t almost all Barbie players end up with many?

I didn’t get all of the references, but the movie did keep me on the hook with it’s many homages to other films. It begins with “2001: A Space Odyssey.” There is “The Matrix” when Barbie is given a choice between her pink heels or sandals (and it turns out the choice is fake, Weird Barbie insists on a do-over so she will choose to learn about reality).

America Ferrera is great as Gloria, and delivers one of the most famous monologues of the movie. That monologue is a highlight in a movie with many touching moments.

One of my favorites is when Barbie, discouraged with her first experience in LA, sits on a park bench and sends Ken away. She looks up and sees an old woman watching her. Barbie is startled and stares.

“You’re beautiful,” Barbie says.

“I know it,” the woman replies.

Beauty isn’t just pretty blondes who looks like dolls, but women and men who are comfortable in their own skins and know it. That’s a positive attitude that transcends age—the central message, to me, of the movie, beyond its critique of misogyny.

And that critique? Some have said the movie is anti-man. I didn’t see it that way. Ken himself recognizes that running the world himself can be exhausting and isn’t much fun. Men do have a responsibility to be responsible and fully human, and pointing out realities that have held back the majority of humans (women) doesn’t seem to me to be unfair or offensive.

It's a coming of age movie for Barbie. She realizes that the real world isn't the fantasy she imagined. She's not everyone's hero and all problems of misogyny and feminism have not been erased by her. But the human life is still worth living, and in the end, Barbie decides it is Kenough. She is willing to live as Barbara Handler, daughter of Ruth Handler. That's deep, man. And woman.

Finally, what was Mattel thinking? They so wisely stepped aside and let Gerwig have her way, including a rough caricature of the company. Years ago, Mattel missed the boat on the first “Toy Story,” film but wised up for movie two. Clearly, this movie that mocks Mattel is going to make a boat load of money for Mattel. And Mattel is clearly over a lot of water that's under the bridge. The movie ends with a remake of a song that caused a lawsuit when it came out, but now it is included here.

Life in plastic. It’s fantastic.

 

Reading Two Books About My Place

Cover images of two books, both from Amazon.com.

This summer, I’ve read two novels that offered more than the usual pleasure that any novel does of taking you out of the everyday world into someone else’s vision of the world. One reason I liked them is because these two summer reads were both set in my part of the planet.

“The World of Pondside,” by Mary Helen Stefaniak, is an interesting novel, part mystery, part suspense, about a death at an Iowa City fictional nursing home, and the slightly shady back story of a computer game that is set at that nursing home.

“Motel Sepia,” by Dale Kueter, is more of a crime drama, set in Cedar Rapids in the 1950s at a real motel, although the crime is fictional.

In “The World of Pondside,” Pondside Manor, a long-term care facility and nursing home, is recreated in a computer game in which residents and staff can have their own avatars and live their best lives. The administrator becomes a hot New York fashion designer. Long ago dances and events live again through the memories of some residents, brought to life in the game partly through digitized photos.

Image I made of Mary Helen Stefaniak when she was a visiting writer at Mount Mercy University one day in fall 2022.

A kitchen helper, Foster Kresowik, has helped Robert Kallman, a younger resident affected by Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), commonly referred to as Lou Gehrig’s disease, bring his vision to life via the game. And, at the start of the book, Kallman is discovered dead in the pond and the computer server that runs the game is gone. Was it suicide? Murder? Was there something about the game tied to Kallman’s death?

One thing that’s great about “Pondside” is Stefaniak paints interesting portraits of contrasting characters. One of my favorites was Erika Petersen, a U of I nursing student who gets a job at Pondside Manor. She’s young, she’s a sorority sister, she’s pretty—and she’s very bright. Besides studying nursing, she also studies computer science. And thus, she offers some of the more interesting twists and at times takes a leadership role.

To me, the idea of a nursing student studying computer science is an unusual combination, but not beyond reality. I teach at a university with a large nursing school, and I know some of our brightest students study nursing—they have to be bright, nursing is a demanding field of study. And, now and then, I’ll encounter one with enough transfer credits and gumption to add some unexpected other field. So, Erika, to me, seemed like a familiar kind of driven young woman.

Two of Stefaniak's books for sale at MMU last fall.

In the book, Stefaniak kept me guessing, and I was not expecting many of the plot twists. It’s a unique, timely book, firmly set in today’s world.

“Motel Sepia,” in contrast, draws from a world that was rather than the world than is. It is set in a motel in Cedar Rapids established by a Black couple who run several successful businesses. Early in the book, there is a brutal murder in Illinois, and somehow you know that the murder and some crimes in Cedar Rapids (a “kissing bandit” is politely robbing local establishments) will collide.

In the meantime, Roy and Lillian Sanders are busy, very busy, running their motel. And Roy is concerned about race relations. The motel is one of the few stops along Highway 30 in the 1950s that welcomes Black guests, and the motel becomes an unusual place where White and Black people sometimes come together.

Dale Kueter also wrote a nonfiction book about the Vietnam War and spoke at MMU in 2015 during a series on Vietnam. Image I made of him then.

It was fun reading about Cedar Rapids of the 1950s. The businesses and other settings are of a bygone time but still familiar, too. I was not alive when the book was set and I never had been in Cedar Rapids before the 1970s, so it is not a time I have any memories of. Yet, I liked seeing my town of the past spring to life.

I enjoyed both and would recommend both. It was fun this summer to read two diverse works of fiction set in places nearby.

Is The Best Model Fictional Dad a Dog?

Stories that we tell say something about what we, collectively as a culture, believe about certain roles. And, while it was a while ago, June is the month of Father’s Day, so let me ruminate on fictional dads that I find to be decent fatherhood role models.

Because I am a dad. A grandad now. Which means I have thoughts on fatherhood (as does everyone else, I’ll concede). (Aside on images: All are publicity stills used in media, original sources are Disney, Pixar and Netflix. I don’t own any of the images.)

How well did I fulfill the role of father? That’s not for me to answer. And fatherhood is a role that we fall into--not always unexpectedly, but raising any child is a wondrous and scary and surprising adventure. I, for one, don’t think there’s just a one-size-fits-all answer to what makes for a good parent, anyway. After all, we’re complex sentient animals with big brains that complicate everything. What’s best for one dad- or parent-child pair does not always work at all for another

All dads muddle through, just as all moms do. The good news, I suppose, is that attitude makes a huge difference, and any parent who at least takes the role seriously and tries is likely, in the end, to do OK.

By the way, while men and women are not identical beings, I’m not one who believes the role of “dad” is always sex specific. So, for the many females out there fulfilling dad functions—good for you, and in commenting on fictional male fathers, I’m not trying to be exclusive to the XY genetic pattern.

Anyway, here are four fictional fathers of recent years who represent, to me, each some positive aspect of fatherhood:

Catherine Zeta-Jones as Morticia Addams, Luis Guzmán as Gomez Addams. Embarrassing their teen daughter with a PDA, as good parents ought to.

1-Gomez Addams from the Netflix series “Wednesday.” Spoilers coming, so back out now, if you need to.

The Addams Family is an interesting set of tales, starting as it did as a series of cartoons, spawning a 1960s TV series, movies both live and animated and now this streaming series. I’ve already noted that I am a fan of “Wednesday,” the Netflix contribution to this family of fables.

And I like the character Gomez and his latest incarnation. The Addams family is a Gothic tale with horror trappings, but it has a rather quaint sensibility, at the same time. The family itself is cartoonish—Wednesday, in all versions of the tale, is always on the verge of murdering her younger brother Pugsley. But there is a wink to the viewer, the violence here, even in the live-action versions, is cartoonish and not to be taken too seriously. Just as Wiley Coyote is never killed by going off the cliff holding an anvil, Pugsley survives electrocution, being buried alive, whatever. The violence isn’t “real.”

But the family dynamic is at least a real representation of how we think of family. In “Wednedsay,” Gomez tells Morticia that their Little Storm Cloud will never be alone. (In context, then sending a spy to watch over her isn’t an example of good parenting, but never mind.) Gomez is in love with his daughter, in a healthy, fatherly way, and that obvious love lands him on this honor roll of fictional father figures.

Not that the series, nor Gomez, is perfect. I’m not a lawyer, but some of the law in the series is very jumbled. For example, Wednesday digs up a grave to find a colored finger that proves the boy Gomez supposedly killed died of nightshade poisoning. Well, he didn’t really—he was stabbed as he was dying. Several issues here. Even if the boy had ingested a fatal dose of nightshade poison, stabbing him before the poison killed him is still a homicide. And digging up a grave does require a court order—even if it solved a crime, Wednesday and Morticia were both subject to charges for a serious offense. To me, the show is clearly not about the law—as law shows go, it’s pretty wackadoodle. And that hurts, a bit, in a show that is a basically a murder mystery. Still, it’s a live action cartoon, right? I don’t demand that a cartoon show adhere strictly to reality, and in this commentary, even more cartoonish shows are coming.

Agustín Madrigal, voiced by Wilmer Valderrama.

2) Augustin Madrigal from “Encanto.” First, he’s the sympathetic dad who understands Mirabel’s struggles more than anybody else. I also like that he has a good relationship with Julieta—the two are a team and both try to understand and support Mirabel. Unlike the next fictional relationship, mom and dad here are largely on the same page, which is a great family dynamic.

True, he also tries to hide things from Abuela—everyone in the family is afraid of her. But he also, in concert with Julieta, at least speaks up to Abuela in defense of Mirabel.

Jin Lee and Melin Lee, voiced by Orion Lee and Rosalie Chiang.

3) Jin Lee in “Turning Red.” The family dynamic isn’t quite as healthy here, and the father is a bit too much of a passive figure.

But he can understand his daughter’s emotions in a way that her mother doesn’t. The scene in which he finds the video of the friends and tells Melin that she can erase the tape if she wants to, but it made him laugh is an emotional highlight of the movie. Jin is able to appreciate and love his daughter’s “messy” side, something many parents struggle with.

And he’s also a 4-Townie. I think having the mental ability to “think young” without painfully trying to act young is a healthy thing. And it’s one reason Jin understand Melin so well.

In this fictional family, Jin also is the cook in the household—the trope in our fiction is often the father who can’t provide food for his family, who feeds them cereal when mom is not around. That’s a reality in some places and times—but I respect more a dad who recognizes the basic domestic skills--such as how to fix a meal, how to run the laundry, how the dishwasher functions--are part of a father’s role. A dad is a parent and should be competent in all parent things—changing a diaper, feeding a baby, washing the dishes and fixing meals in the first place. Yes, the traditional dad is a breadwinner and the traditional mom keeps the home, but the burden of domestic work needs to be shared, and no dad gets a pass for not knowing what most of the buttons on most of the home appliances do. So one reason I really respect Jin is that he know his way around the kitchen, as a good dad ought to know even if he’s not a chef.

Bandit. No actor listed, because, clearly, Dr. Heeler is a real archeologist.

4—Bandit in “Bluey.” Yes, I can imagine some of you objecting. “Bluey” is not a realistic show at all—Bandit is an archeologist who never seems to do a day of work. He’s relentlessly optimistic and clueless at the same time. The show does stereotype genders—Bandit Heeler is the carefree, fun parent while the mom, Chilli Heeler, is the sensible voice of reason. While those are stereotypes, that are also true personalities, and, in the improbable world of “Bluey," they ring true for me.

And there is something important and special in the playfulness of Bandit. He’s a character presumably who has a PhD but is quickly willing to imagine with his children at their level. That sense of play is sometime difficult for adults to achieve, but those who can suddenly turn a row of chairs into a bus, plane or train are, in my book, more effective fathers. Play isn’t something to look down on, it’s a lifelong habit that helps us mentally rehearse situations, imagine outcomes, enjoy interactions and create our own fictions.

As Wash says in “Firefly”: “This is a good land and we will call it ‘This Land.’” Not that our own fictions are always all that good nor complex (and there is the tragedy that the character Wash wasn’t a dad), but I think imagination, as long as it’s not narcistic or self-delusional, is a sign of a flexible mind that can stay mentally young.

So, Bandit is no more real than Wiley Coyote. Yet he does have something to say to us dads. Try never to ignore the fantasy lives of your children, and be the dragon or prince or ogre or pirate or captain that the situation demands. At heart, we are all a bit like Peter Pan. And the best dads are adults who can think like adults, but who also retain that portion of their minds that will never grow up.

Bandit comes last, because, in some ways, he’s the best. And his message is simple, but very important. While a parent—a dad—needs to think and act like an adult, they also still need the capacity to think imaginatively and creatively, as a child thinks.

Play with your daughters. And your sons. Never grow up so much that you’re too grown up for that.

Will Netflix ‘Wedneday’ Avoid ‘Penguins’ Sydrome?

 

If you haven’t seen the Netflix show “Wednesday” and plan to, you may want to move along, citizen. There will be spoilers here. I also discuss “Inside Out” and “Penguins of Madagascar,” but I would plead that not only has the expiration date on spoilers for those long passed, I also won’t get into the details of those plots anyway, which is easy in the “Penguins” case because there are no details of the plot to get into. Anyway: Official “Wednesday” spoiler warning issued. Now, on with the show.

There is a condition that sometimes has an impact on children’s movies in recent years; I call it “Penguins of Madagascar” syndrome.

If you haven’t seen “Penguins,” I urge you not to bother. The wisecracking swimming dinosaur protagonists of this tale have amusing things to say and engage in many slick action sequences. And that’s it. And that’s the problem. There is no character development, because there aren’t really any characters beyond surface personalities. The movie is all flash and dash with no heart.

The best entertainment, particularly “family” entertainment, has levels. Think of the Pixar franchise. There are long arguments to be found online about how realistic the psychology of “Inside Out” is because the underlying precepts of the film are debated by psychologists. Which means some don’t care for the emotional functions as presented in the film, while many people do find them insightful.

As for me, I’m a fan. If “Inside Out” isn’t a text in psychology, at least there is evidence that the people who wrote it have read a psychology text—it’s a family film that has layers. Sure, anger may present masculine stereotypes—even a good film can have flaws that people can legitimately complain about.

Nobody worries about the layers in “Penguins of Madagascar.” It doesn’t have any.

Now, I know the recent Netflix series “Wednesday” is not in the same entertainment universe as “Penguins” or “Inside.” Shame on any parent who lets young children view this series—it’s too brutal, too bloody, too violent, in my opinion, for most pre-tween eyes.

But for those of us who are either beyond our first decade of life experience, or whose teen years were long ago in the ABBA era, I endorse “Wednesday.” I like it.

It’s not a flawless show. I wish, for example, that Enid Sinclair, an amusing sidekick, had been given a bit more intelligent things to say. I was OK with a former Wednesday ending up on the dark side, but not so OK with the exit of Principal Weems, a character who would have been delicious to keep around for another season.

Larissa Weems played by Gwendoline Christie. Netflix publicity image.

It was sort of like seeing Principal Snyder die in Season 3 of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” Then again, in Buffy, the characters were going to move out of high school at that point anyway, and it would have required improbable backflips to bring Snyder to UC-Sunnydale, so maybe he was expendable at that point, from a story-telling point of view.

Not so Weems. One expects that season two of “Wednesday” will be set at Nevermore Academy, a place that will miss its literal giant of a principal.

Still, I found much to like in “Wednesday.” I was not as disturbed by the appearance of her father, who is plumper and frumpier than the smooth movie Gomez. I recall the original Addams Family cartoons, and as many have pointed out, this streaming-service Gomez is true to the original. Also, I don’t mind a character shifting a bit from one interaction of an ongoing franchise to the next—and in this latest version, I found Wednesday’s dad to be an endearing, caring father. Indeed, despite the Goth trappings and dark humor, one thing that makes the Addams Family franchise work is that they really seem to be a family.

Three of the Netflix Addams family characters: Gomez Addams (Luis Guzmán), Wedneday Addams (Jenna Ortega) and Morticia Addams (Catherine Zeta-Jones). A great cast helps make this show work. Netflix publicity image.

And young Jenna Ortega—she has gotten lots of praise for her starring role. She is a delicious Wednesday with her stiff mannerisms, death stare, quick one-liners and, now and then, evil smile. Ortega has arrived.

Which might be unfortunate for Ortega as a human. Hollywood is not kind to its young talent. It can make a starlet fabulously famous for a time, but often leaves them with severe life troubles. It’s not always good to be a multi-millionaire so young.

To be fair, in the few interviews I’ve seen her in, Ortega seems intelligent, quick witted and sharp-tongued. And she was a child star who has found a niche as a young adult—a sometimes rare trick. Perhaps she has her head screwed on tight enough and can navigate the temptations and burdens of entertainment fame. She surely knows far more about that world and its pitfalls than I do.

And I’ve segued from writing about a role—Wednesday—to writing about the actor playing that role. It’s a common mistake, and I want to be clear that Jenna Ortega is not Wednesday Addams, she merely plays her in a streaming video series.

Anyway, I know Ortega was already a successful Hollywood figure before this Netflix show, although I’ve not enjoyed seeing her before. “Wednesday” has surely, if briefly, pushed her from the role of successful actor to a top-tier A lister.

From Wikimedia Commons, based on a screen shot from a YouTube video, Jenna Ortega.

Although there are many complications that sudden superstardom has brought to Ortega:

• A minor tiff with writers during their strike. Ortega noted that she was “unprofessional” and insisted on changing some lines. Writers, grappling with a changing landscape, the onset of AI and long being under-rewarded in Hollywood anyway, did not react well. I hope Ortega recalls that, like all stars, she is dependent on smart writing as well as her own personal talents.

• Speculation about her sexuality. She is a physically beautiful, physically small and very young adult Hollywood female star. On screen, her character in Wednesday stipulates that she will never marry nor have a family. Is Ortega straight? Gay? Bi? Frankly, why does anybody outside of her close friends and family care? She’s 20 years old. It would be nice to give her time and room to figure it all out without a media glare on her private life, although, sadly, that is not the nature of our media. And those who seek the spotlight often find it to be a very hot place to exist.

• The smoking thing. Paparazzi recently caught Ortega lighting a cigarette, and much was made of her mother, a nurse, posting anti-smoking messages on social media after that. Well, I do hope Ortega quits if she has started smoking and does not make it a habit if it’s not one yet.

This one, the smoking thing, feels a little different, to me. Anybody who has  become a star has some responsibility to live a responsible life. So, a minor wag of a digit at Ortega for putting herself in an awkward place vis a vis a deadly habit.

Sure, what she did is legal. Anybody is allowed to do it. And I can see the point of, again, giving her some space. Yet, I do not want any of my young grandchildren to think smoking is cool because a smoking hot young superstar is puffing away.

Maybe she is dealing with stress—smoking is often a habit that arises in stressful situations. The old WWII saying was “smoke ’em if you’ve got ’em.” Wasn’t a good idea for young GIs and isn’t a great idea for a Hollywood star, either.

But it’s not Ortega’s fault that people may idolize her. She is an immature human, living a complicated life as all of us do. As a human, she seems packed with talent, which she displayed in season 1 of “Wednesday.” I’m a fan. And it’s great to see a Latina icon, something not common in our media.

Anyway, where did the Penguins go? Here they come again. Previous Addams Family franchises have a mixed record. I’m not going to comment on the 1960s TV show, although I am old enough to vaguely recall it a bit. I don’t think I was a regular viewer.

As for the 1990s movies, well. Movie 1 and movie 2 are great. Movie 3 had a change in cast and fell victim to Penguin syndrome—the writing was tired and trite and the results pretty bad.

And the recent animated movies follow a similar pattern. The 2019 “The Addams Family” featured, surprise, Wednesday Addams as arguably it’s most important character as the family battled a cable TV show host seeking country-club perfection in a planned town. It is an amusing movie, partly because it’s a dig at HGTV sensibilities. But the 2021 follow-up “The Addams Family 2” makes little sense, is full of action meaning nothing and mostly goes nowhere. Like a penguin.

The live action movie series managed two good installments before stumbling in the third. In the cartoon world, there was one amusing tale followed by a lame one.

I have some hopes for our current “Wednesday.” May the creators, writers, director, talented cast, continue to push story—to have something to share that has some wit and depth. May they not pursue the one-liners so hard that they subsume what every good tale needs—a tale.

And I wish Jenna Ortega well. Good luck, kid. You already know this, but in Hollywood, you need it.