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.