The Separation of Church and Charlie Brown

"A Charlie Brown Christmas" is my all-time favorite Christmas special.  This article on The Onion pretty accurately summarizes how I'll react if my future child doesn't love it as much as I do.  The way Charlie Brown searches for meaning in the season, questions the commercialism, and worries he's not happy enough rings true to me, and feels so relatable.  In the end, Charlie Brown realizes--at least until the next cartoon--that he's good enough, and the little tree he picked out was perfect all along.  All it needed was a little love.  Charlie Brown quickly forgets his frustrations from the day, and enjoys the moment, being with those he cares about.  It's very sweet.

I DVRed the "A Charlie Brown Christmas" last week, and I noticed something I hadn't thought about before: it's a religious special.  It ends with Linus quoting scripture, explaining the true meaning of Christmas to Charlie Brown.  Prior to this year, I'd always thought of Charlie Brown's rejection of commercialism, and his ultimate thankfulness as themes of the show, not Christianity.  As secular citizen and lifelong Peanuts fangirl, I found this conflict bothersome.  Though I do believe the word "God" should be removed from the dollar bill and the Pledge of Allegiance, I wouldn't typically care about religion in a television special.  But I do in the case of Charlie Brown. Adding a religious element to anything excludes those of other faiths, and those who don't connect with religion at all.  And to me that clashes severely with the universality and spirit of Peanuts and Charlie Brown.

Charlie Brown is the ultimate protagonist and neutral hero.  Though he suffers from frequent failures, his optimism keeps him likable, his insecurities and poignant observations of others keep him relatable.  Even the drawing of Charlie Brown is so simple that anyone can sort of project themselves onto him and feel connected to him.  To see Charlie Brown enlightened by a Christian belief threw me off because I'd always considered the comic strip and television specials to have complete and timeless universal appeal.

This bothered me for a few days, and then I read that article in The Onion and realized I'm the person it parodies.  I do want to watch "A Charlie Brown Christmas" with my kid some day.  I'm standing by the special.  At it's core, it's about Charlie Brown reconciling his feelings of inadequacy, and seeing that his feelings were natural all along.  He learns that Christmas is a time to reflect on what you're thankful for, and to enjoy time with your friends and family.   Ideally, in addition to a Separation of Church and State, we would also have a separation of Church and Charlie Brown, but in the spirit of the holidays, I'll take it.  Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown!

Film Review: Paranormal Activity

I had to be dragged to this movie. I generally shy away from horror movies (I'm chicken), found-footage movies (hand-held makes me sick), and anything involving Ouija Boards (that's just stupid). That said, I liked Paranormal Activity. The main characters are a young couple, Katie and Micah, who have moved into a new house. Katie believes she's had a paranormal entity following her since her youth. Therefore, it's not the house that's haunted, but Katie. Micah doesn't believe her, so he buys a video camera AND A TRIPOD (thank you!) and rigs up the house to disprove Katie. Of course, they catch some very strange things in the middle of the night, and spookiness ensues.

The movie was creepy because of noises in the night, and everything we don't actually see. It's an effective horror movie about someone getting possessed without any blood, distorted fingers or disjointed heads. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But even stepping outside of the genre for a moment, I liked that the film provoked an emotional response from the audience without any violence, sex, special effects, major actors, or money. Again, not that there's anything wrong with any of those things, it was just interesting to see the power of filmmaking and timing.

Another reason this movie worked for me was the characters. I bought their relationship. Their banter and bickering seemed natural, and Micah had an unafraid-but-really-afraid attitude that felt realistic for a young guy in a new house. Katie's role was a little bit harder to play, as a character who thinks she's followed by ghosts is less believable. However, I again bought that, and I liked both characters.

Finally, Paranormal Activity was a lot of fun to see. Because (at first) it only showed at limited theaters and only at midnight, the theater was inevitably packed. So, every time the audience gasped all at once, everyone laughed right after. In that way, Paranormal Activity felt more like a ride, or the Haunted House at Universal Studios than a movie. I also got the inappropriately vocal guy behind me who'd mutter, "Ohhhhhh, shit!" every time the main characters turned the lights out at night. Paranormal Activity probably would have been scarier on DVD at home. This is probably one few movies that has less impact in the theater. But then again, I don't know if that's good or bad...boo!

The 61st Primetime Emmy Awards

The Emmys were kind of awesome this year. And I'm not talking about who won and who lost; I watch too much television on DVD after the fact to have terribly strong feelings about that. The production itself, though, was right on target. Host Neil Patrick Harris opened with a musical number, poked fun at the internet's relationship with television, and was even interrupted by his alter ego, video blogger Dr. Horrible. My favorite aspect of the show, however, was the details, and its thoughtful and recurring acknowledgement of the collaborative nature of television itself. For example, as NPH pointed out, the musicians were on the stage as opposed to hidden/forgotten in the pit. The control room was also featured on stage. Enclosed behind glass walls, the glow of the different camera angles provided not only aesthetic interest, but a reminder that people were hard at work on the production. The other little thing I noticed was wording of the announcer. In cases where a show, or group of people won, he'd say, "Accepting the award for the team...Tina Fey." Using the word "team" was effective, because everything on television is the result of a team effort.

I thought the recognition of those working behind the scenes was great because—with things like the broadcast from the red carpet—attention is usually focused on the actors. However, Neil Patrick Harris also recognized the actors in a unique and meaningful way. When introducing the presenters (actors), NPH would say something like, "Best known for his performance as Mailman #1 in..." The recitation of insignificant roles was meant as a joke (and worked as a joke) and they were probably made up, but the simple detail also reminded us of the long road most actors take before finding success. Therefore, the production seemed to go beyond the bling, as we considered the behind-the-scenes, the before-the-scenes, and the general time, work, and effort that goes into entertainment.

Film Review: District 9

District 9 probably worked really well as a short, but it didn't translate quite right to a feature. On paper, it’s a great concept. A giant spacecraft hovers over Johannesburg until the humans break in, only to discover and then rescue a shipload of malnourished, lobsterlike crustaceans. The aliens are then confined to a slum—District 9, duh—where they are segregated and discriminated against. This is all shot in a mockumentary style complete with interviews and faux-newsreels. The protagonist, Wikus Van De Merwe, is eventually assigned a task of relocating the aliens to a different (worse) slum, and in the process, he gets squirted with an alien fluid that causes him to slowly turn into a crustacean himself. It's VERY much like The Fly. Though I prefer the process on Jeff Goldblum. With the government hunting him down for the military now that he can operate powerful alien weaponry, Wikus is then forced to hide out in District 9 where he befriends a crustacean scientist named Christopher Johnson and his (cute?) son CJ. Christopher and the kid are the only sympathetic characters in the film. They're intelligent, sweet, and they just want to go home. We can all get on board with that. And Wikus? We can't care too much less about the bumbly bureaucrat and his boring wife. It's all the same to me if he turns into dinner at Red Lobster.

Back to the aliens. Whether or not you like District 9 ultimately comes down to whether or not you think Christopher Johnson cancels out and creates sympathy for the rest of his scavenging, tentacled, alien race. While these characters are certainly a lovely display of CGI, they are simultaneously gooey and hard-shelled, and ultimately disgusting. And their violent, unruly behavior matches their appearance: They buy cat-food (to eat) on the black market, and it's also suggested that they buy human prostitutes (ugh). Of course, anyone forced to live in such desperate and horrible conditions could revert to these barbarous kinds of behaviors. I get that. But when we see people this way, it's heartbreaking because we know what people are normally like, and the potential they have. I feel more emotion when I see a suffering person than a suffering man-shrimp. So shoot me. What I needed from this movie was a few more sympathetic aliens. That, and the characters could have been toned down to be less grotesque. I know it's what's on the inside that counts; they don't need to be shiny. Simply ditching the mouth-tentacles would have made a dramatic difference in my emotional response to this film.

Finally, let's address the apartheid allegory and racial commentary. If the aliens are the black South Africans in this allegory, they shouldn't be so disgusting. Forget about my emotional response and my gag reflex. It's offensive to draw that parallel. We should also look at the actual black characters in the film: They all seem to be either gangsters or tribal witch-doctors who eat aliens in hopes of absorbing the necessary DNA to operate the advanced weapons. (I know the white characters are also bad people, but they're still not trying to eat Wikus.) Black people are trying to violently kill the white protagonist for the entire movie, and I'm not sure why the black characters in District 9 are presented with such regressive imagery. It's possible I'm not getting the irony, but maybe the allegory itself should be more subtle, the irony more blatant.

The idea for District 9 and the first 45 minutes are solid, but the handheld camera and general grotesquery of the third act gave me a headache. I was also disappointed in the absence of an intentional laugh-beat for the fact that the alien is named Christopher Johnson. I mean, come on. That's silly.

Film Review: (500) Days of Summer

In a lot of ways, (500) Days of Summer is another quirky movie about hipsters with indie music flying out its ears and over my head. That said, it's still charming, and I'll probably still download the soundtrack from iTunes. Vaguely echoing Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (one of my favorites), (500) Days is a nonlinear story about a normal guy and an offbeat girl who just aren't right for each other. Tom, the protagonist, is especially enjoyable. He's respectful, talented, attractive, well-dressed, and a romantic. This is a welcomed contrast to the Seth Rogen, schlumpy man-child model.

Not only does Tom feel fresh and innocent, but so does the film itself. There's something oddly film-student about (500) Days, but not in a bad way. Between references to The Graduate, The Seventh Seal, and the French New Wave, and experimentation with narrative devices like split screen, animation, a musical number, and nonlinear structure, you can tell the filmmakers went to film school. And in a world of adolescent male fantasy movies (coughjuddapatow), it's nice to see the guys who did their homework succeed.

Finally, I hate to criticize the movie—because I really did enjoy it—but the one (and frankly, severe) problem with (500) Days is the enigmatic nature of Summer. She's a mystery and a code that cannot be cracked. We never learn anything about her, other than that she's cute, she likes The Smiths, and she's VERY stylish. She encourages Tom to achieve his dreams, but she doesn't have any of her own. Also, Summer's not very nice. Her actions are often unexplained: when she randomly breaks up with Tom, she wants to continue with breakfast, asserting that he's still her best friend. She's inconsiderate, and she leaves Tom (and us) with the sentiment that women will always break your heart. And I promise that's not true.

Don't get me wrong, (500) Days is a cute movie. But by day 501 I'm ready for another female character.

Film Review: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Spoiler Alert! If you haven't read the book, you probably won't like the movie anyway.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince skips over large parts of the book, such as memories of Voldemort's past, and even entire characters, like newly-appointed Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour. However, once you get passed a moment of "Hey, what about Kreacher and Dobby?" you move on and enjoy the film. HBP works not despite omitted chapters, but because of them. The plot of HBP is largely focused on the romantic relationships and general awkward sexual tension between Harry and Ginny, and Ron and Hermione (and Lavender Brown and Romilda Vane). The emphasis on characters over plot allows the film to breathe on its own, and offers a compliment rather than a reenactment of the book.

Another surprise is the anticlimacticity (there's no reason why that should not be a word) of the climax. There's no big action scene or battle. While to a certain extent this is odd and disappointing, it works because everybody knows that Snape kills Dumbledore at the end of the book. This fact was boldly written in chalk on the side of a house in my college neighborhood. No matter how dramatically this scene played out, it was not about to be a shock. So, instead, Yates pulls it in the other direction, placing characters over curses. This is not to say that HBP is light-hearted or gentle in any way. The film's charm is an ominous reminder of what's at risk, and ultimately raises the stakes for the final films—and the real showdown.

At the end of the day, HBP has a certain finesse in the acting and direction that isn't present in the other movies. Little moments like when Harry and Ron both dive for the one nice-looking Potions textbook really show the characters as people and friends. There are also many ways in which one can become intoxicated in the wizarding world, and these are fully taken advantage of, showcasing Radcliffe's comedy chops. I also liked the slight nods to the franchise itself, and its inevitable redundancies. In one scene, Professor McGonagall shakes her head at the three leads, inquiring as to why the trio is always present when there's trouble. In other words, HBP isn't trying to be the book. It takes advantage of that which is cinematic—moments that don't have the same impact on the page. With a self-referential ease, Yates takes a step back and closes in on character nuances and what the story is really about: teenagers growing up.

The Half-Blood Prince was my favorite book in the series, and it could be my favorite film as well, though I should probably go back and re-watch the others. In any case, HBP did not disappoint, and I look forward to the final installments.

The Scripps National Spelling Bee Might Just Be Better than the Olympics

The girls have never flat-ironed their hair, the boys haven't learned to shave. The spellers in the Scripps National Spelling Bee are awkward, khaki-clad and frankly, adorable. The Bee is a unique television event that features unlikely heroes--smart middle-schoolers whose clothes don't fit just right--and I thoroughly enjoy the live broadcast every year. (Ironically, I just typed "Thoroughly" about three times before the spell checker removed the red underline from the word.)

I'm still not sure why spelling interests us in entertainment. There are plenty of national contests for kids' activities--sports, music, cheerleading, dance, etc. Perhaps it's because spelling is a symbol of childhood. It's something you only do as a kid, and in the world of spelling, Scripps is the big leagues, the masters, and broadway. Also, everyone has a spelling memory. You know what word knocked you out in your last (or only) bee. (For me, it was "oyster.") Even movies like the documentary, Spellbound and the drama Akeelah and the Bee were successful and made for some good entertainment.

What I like most about the event itself is the sense of community and support in the room. When a speller misses a word, the whole place lets out a sincerely disappointed "Ohhh." The students also share high-fives, and give each other standing ovations. There's a team spirit amidst the individual competition, as though they want to make the Bee last as long as the rules permit. Also, the spellers are never alone on stage. When the competition gets down to the select few, the families come sit on stage too. You're alone at the mic, but surrounded on all sides by people rooting for you. The sense of community is also emphasized in the diversity of the kids. Most ethnicities seem to be represented, and while I think there are more girls, the gender ratio is close as well. Spelling is effective in bringing together a diverse group to celebrate hard work and intelligence.

This year, the tension was further broken up by funny sentences as examples for the spellers. For example, "Stacy told Alex his dating prospects might increase significantly if he started bathing hebdomadally." This made the show more fun to watch, but more importantly, it must have been nice for the spellers. Laughing reminds you to breathe.

The televised production is also well constructed. In between rounds, they profile the kids with short videos of them in their hometowns. This--most of the time--shows them as regular kids who still have friends and fun in addition to spelling. They also each choose a word that describes them, and they spell it out with letter blocks. It's a cute production idea that gives the segments a cohesive feel that keeps with the theme and focus of the broadcast.

Mostly I like it because I can remember a time when my hair looked like that. And I didn't know what to wear. (Okay, I still don't know what to wear.) And it's just nice to see a spotlight on the quirky, and often forgotten middle school set. Interesting and entertaining, the Scripps National Spelling Bee a rare televised competition event that is all kindness and positivity.

In Defense of Kate

"One day my kids will Google me." - Jon

So, lots of Jon and Kate drama lately. Did he cheat on her? Did she cheat on him? Are they exploiting their children? La la la. Though we see a lot of their lives, we certainly don't have all the facts. We do know, though, that Jon was out late with significantly younger women, and he also issued a statement conceding that he behaved irresponsibly. We also know that Kate can be bossy on the show. But, really—looking only at what we know to be true—Jon's actions are worse right now. I wonder why Kate is taking so much more criticism. In a sarcastic recipe, one blog suggests, "1 cup of kindness towards your husband." What Would Tyler Durden Do? titles an article, "Everyone Really Hates Kate," and they continue on about how she isn't hot enough to cancel out her attitude. All of this bothers me because the negative emphasis is on two things: her Type A personality and her appearance. The personality thing is silly because many people are Type A. Sure, she (and others) have things to work on, but the existence of this kind of person is just not alarming to me. And then we have her looks. It just doesn't matter if you like her hair. And it especially doesn't matter if she wears a bikini. Jon is passive-aggressive. He went snowboarding in Utah on Kate's birthday. It feels as though the consensus is that Kate is a shrew with bad hair who deserves to be cheated on because she can't shut up. On top of unearthing multiple stereotypes about women, this is unfair. Kate's words may be mean, but so are Jon's actions, and I thought actions were supposed to be louder.

That said, I don't mean to beat Jon down—just level him with Kate. I've always been a fan of the couple. When I turn on the show, nine times out of ten it's an episode I've seen. Possibly twice. The kids are cute; Jon and Kate always seemed generally normal. It's a look into a life that is a little bit like yours, but simultaneously another world. J&K+8 also works as a reality show in that it feels—whether or not it is—more like a window into their life than generated drama. We can side with Jon and Kate too because—unlike the Octomom and the Duggars--they weren't trying to have a huge family. Fertility treatments are a legitimate way to get pregnant, and they rarely lead to such large batches of kids. We don't have indication that Kate was implanted with too many eggs, like the Octomom, and I won't judge her decision to go through with the full pregnancy, since on principle I'm not about to judge any woman's ovarial decisions. (Except Mrs. Duggar's decision to not use birth control. That's a terrible idea.) And again, the kids are adorable.

The J&K+8 season five premiere brought in 9.8 million viewers, including myself. The opening jingle used to start with Kate laughing in Jon's arms, and she says in voice over, "It all started with the two of us." This season opened with pictures of Jon and Kate in opposite corners of the screen, and photos of the children filled in the space between them. Also, instead of opening with a kid laughing and saying, "On this episode of Jon and Kate +8!" the show opened with alternating shots of Jon and Kate talking separately to the camera about their relationship and the uncertainty of the future.

It's a sad story, and the question remains of whether or not J&K should continue with the show. At first, having a skeleton camera crew around for much of their lives didn't distract the family too much. They seemed to ignore it, having too many other things to think about. But now that there are paparazzi, tabloids, bodyguards, and book tours, there's a chance the kids are on their way to therapy. While I initially wondered why Kate didn't immediately cut the cameras, now I think she worries it will land her back home full-time where her relationship with Jon will most likely end. It's sadder still because she has four seasons of television on DVD chronicling their life together. Finally, I think she wants to resolve their story in public. Everyone knows Kate is no quitter, and I think she'd like to finish what she started. As for the kids, I think so far they're fine. They seem loved and cared for and they get to go on fun trips. And so, I wish Kate the best, and I hope she has a happy ending. She should be warned though, if things do work out (for real) everyone will still assume the resolution was fabricated by producers. It's probably too late to win that one, but maybe she can still keep her family together.

Film Review: Up

I'm lucky enough to live just across the bridge from Pixar Animation Studios, and double-lucky enough to have a boyfriend who finds enough success writing about video games to afford tickets to an early Up screening at Pixar. One could also read this as unlucky in that I'm a train ride away from an unattainable childhood dream, but I digress.

There was wine. And cheese. And vegetables and hummous and brownies and strawberries. I happily enjoyed these hors d'oeuvres in Cafe Luxo, surrounded by Up-inspired art, character statues, and industrial-yet-inviting architecture. Just outside, I could see a giant Luxo lamp. Eventually, our cameras and phones were collected by security, and we were ushered inside a screening room filled with incredibly comfortable seats. When the house lights finally dimmed, tiny ceiling lights created a night-sky effect, complete with shooting stars. These soon faded, and the movie began.

I'll get right to it: Up is fantastic. Packed with both poignant sentiments and slapstick comedy, Pixar's latest/finest elegantly balances heart and hilarity. While I knew Up would be visually stunning, I was struck by the emotional punch. I don't usually expect tears until the second act break or so, but Up had me going less than twenty minutes in--and then laughing five minutes after that. Nothing is sacrificed in this movie. Every aspect of filmmaking is nurtured, refined, and expertly executed. Animators, directors, writers, and everyone else in the world of cinema should consider the bar raised.

Up begins in hero Carl Fredricksen's boyhood. It's not long before he meets his spunky, future wife Ellie, and they bond over a shared thirst for adventure and love of star explorer Charles Muntz. Carl and Ellie get married, and they dream of a trip to Paradise Falls in South America. They live a happy life together, though never making it to Paradise Falls, and Ellie passes away. All of this happens in a montage under five minutes. If you felt anything during the "When She Loved Me" montage in Toy Story 2, this one will floor you. The sequence is beautifully shot, and it does more than wrench your heart: it immediately puts you behind Carl one-hundred percent. And this is absolutely key when the hero is an unlikely 78-year-old curmudgeon.

After Ellie's death, Carl seems to be simply waiting for his own. He preserves his home as a sort of monument to Ellie, and sometimes talks to her as though she'll remain within the walls as long as the house stands. When Carl is about to get evicted and taken to a retirement home, he ties hundreds of balloons to his house and floats away--an act we'd all like to do sometimes. But, of course, Carl has a stowaway: a bright-eyed and plump Junior Wilderness Explorer named Russell. All he needs is his "Assisting the Elderly" badge to become a Senior Wilderness Explorer.

And then there's the adventure. Carl and Russell make it to South America where they find a rare and exotic bird they name Kevin, and aging Muntz, and Muntz' dog pack he's using to hunt down Kevin. I won't tell you too much, but I'll tell you this: You may need to reevaluate your opinion of talking dogs. In one of animation's cleverest plot devices, Muntz' dogs wear collars with computer voices that express their thoughts. You may be able to guess a few places this goes, but nonetheless: hilarious.

Up revels in visual humor, redefines adventure, and reminds us that the seemingly boring moments are the ones we remember most. I left the theater saying the same thing I say as I leave every new Pixar film: This is by far the best Pixar movie yet.

When I got back home, I immediately applied (again) for a position at Cafe Luxo.

The Little Camera I Never Liked But Miss Anyway: An Obituary

The lens is stuck open. The on/off button yields a sad silence. A piece of Scotch tape covers the flash from the day I tried to manually diffuse the light. It's been three days since the water damage, and after asking me one last time to please change its batteries, my Canon Powershot A720 IS finally died.

A few years ago I got a DSLR camera for my birthday. Though this is not the camera in question, the story starts here. I carried it everywhere for a while, but as it began to weigh down on my shoulder, I realized that a shallow depth-of-field is not necessary in every situation. So, the next Christmas my parents got me an Olympus point-and-shoot from Costco. The details are not important, but I didn't like my Christmas photos, and I returned it. I ultimately purchased the A720 IS from Target. I was between this and the Digital Elph from that year, which was slightly smaller. My boyfriend, Nick, told me to go with the Elph for maximum portability, but I bought the A720 IS because I wanted to control the f-stop too. This was a mistake. I do not change the f-stop with a point-and-shoot, and the thing has always been a little too cumbersome. And, since the recent release of smaller Powershots in different colors, mine has since become even less appealing.

The water damage happened last Friday. I had to get up earlier than usual for a day of training at Apple in Cupertino, and I filled my travel mug with water. While I securely screwed on the top, I neglected to close the part you drink out of--and I tossed it in my backpack. I rode the MUNI like this to Civic Center. I walked in the direction I thought was my co-worker Troy's apartment. I felt some moisture on the back of my knee. I thought I stepped in a puddle and it splashed up. When I felt wetness on my lower back, I knew what happened. I pulled the bag off my back, started grabbing things out of it, and I turned around, realizing--to top things off--I was also walking in the wrong direction.

At first it turned on and seemed fine. Later, it turned on, flashing "Memory Card Error." I removed the memory card and batteries and tried to air it out. The next error message I got was to change the batteries. I could see the moisture along the edges of the LCD screen. I popped the memory card in and out, repeatedly drying it in a fruitless effort to remove as much water as I could. At work the next day, Guillermo suggested that I close it in a container with a silica gel (those little things that come in the shoeboxes and say, "do not eat") because they attract moisture. I left it in a Ziplock with the silica gel for 24 hours and tried again. With a meek beep, A720 IS made one final plea for batteries and then couldn't even find the strength to close its lens.

Bye, little camera. I'll miss you.

Film Review: Religulous

I like Bill Maher and I enjoy his show on HBO. Prior to hearing him discuss religion and his agnosticity--I really think that should be a word--I’d considered “agnostic” to mean “persuadable.” However, he convinced me on Real Time that it’s an unwavering stance: it is pointless and potentially harmful to feel absolutely positive about the unknown.

I think this is where he was going with “Religulous,” asking why otherwise logical people feel 100% confident about their faith, and what that means for our culture and--however unconstitutional--our political system.

Unfortunately, Religulous turns from a search for reasoning behind religion to a search for the wackiest people in America. (i.e. the segment at the Christian theme park). This does little to form an argument other than “There are lots of crazy people walking around.” The problem is everyone can agree on that. The existence of weirdos is not a point or a question.

In short, the proportion of smart--or simply prominent--people to wacky ones is off. The focus should have been on the religious scientists and politicians. The characters speaking to the dead on DVD should have been a tool, not a feature. Leave that stuff for a reality show.