FATHER'S DAY

Jem and the Holograms

Season 2 (1987)

I consider myself a child of the 80s as well as the early 90s, but the Jem and the Holograms cartoon was never much on my radar growing up.  My only true association with the show was the fact that my sister owned a Jem doll and once (Defense: I was very young!) I smacked her in the face with it and gave her a bloody nose.  The “Jem doll incident” is part of our family lore but aside from that I never had much of a Jem connection.  Now Jem is having something a renaissance, with a upcoming live-action movie that I will definitely not be seeing, an amazing new comic book adaptation that I can’t recommend enough, and a new audience via Netflix streaming.

I’ve started watching the show and instantly became a fan.  It encompasses all of the neon glamour and excess of the 80s that I love and is camp of the highest order.  What I didn’t realize is how bonkers some of the storylines are—the show goes far beyond rock stars and holograms and features a weird blend of action adventure and real-world issues, including but not limited to: the lost city of Shangri-La, desert islands, illiteracy, runaway trains, drug addiction, zombies, Yugoslavia, and time travel.

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that Jem also has a Father’s Day-themed episode.  Father’s Day episodes, unlike Mother’s Day episodes, are few and far between, usually because most shows have already ended their seasons by June.  It’s doubly surprisingly that Jem, of all shows, has a Father’s Day episode because it’s a cartoon about female rock stars aimed at a young audience.  Since I’ve been enjoying my recent exploration of the Jemverse I happily settled in to watch Season 2’s “Father’s Day.”

One thing I’ve grown to appreciate about the show is that episodes often focus on the many supporting characters, such as members of rival band the Misfits or friends of Jem and the Holograms.  In “Father’s Day” the focus is on Clash, the Misfit’s number one fan and hanger-on, and Video, the Hologram’s videographer (in the world of Jem you will mostly likely be named after your primary occupation/characteristic, such as videographer Video or dancer Danse.  I guess my Jem named would be Editorix?  Bloggera?).  Video and Clash are cousins who grew up on the same street, but as adults they’ve allied themselves with rival bands, as happens in life.  In this episode, both of them return to their hometown for its annual Father’s Day Banquet, bringing the Holograms and the Misfits and a whole lot of trouble with them.

While Video and Clash fight for the spotlight and the admiration of the locals, Jem and the Holograms are preparing a special song to perform in honor of Video’s dad.  Band member Kimber, however, refuses to write the song since she misses her own (deceased) father.  Kimber eventually pulls a Gerald O’Hara, angrily riding a horse that bucks her off, and then has a change of heart when she meets the father of Pizzazz, the bitchy lead singer of the Misfits.  Just when things are looking bad for Video at the Father’s Day Banquet (which has no food or even tables and looks like a high school dance), the Holograms make a splashy entrance, arriving in Pizzazz’s dad’s private jet.  They perform their song but, surprisingly, Pizzazz and her dad do not reconcile by the end of the episode.

The best part of any Jem episode, aside from the amazing outfits the characters wear, are the music video segments.  Two to three times an episode the Holograms and Misfits will break into song, accompanied by psychedelic imagery.  In this case we’re treated to Kimber’s lament for her late father, “Something Is Missing In My Life,” as well as the Misfits’s unfortunately named “Let’s Blow This Town.”  The finale song and ode to fatherhood is “You’re Always In My Heart.”  I love the songs mostly because they are extremely literal and the lyrics usually just repeat the song’s title ad nauseum—a character will say something like “I’m thirsty” and suddenly the music video text appears and they start singing “I’m thirsty/So thirsty/Life makes me thirsty/I’m sooooo thiirrrsssttttyy!”

This episode didn’t exactly move me to tears but it had all of the elements that make Jem such a fun and highly watchable show.  The animation is terrible but the nostalgia factor is high, and you may find yourself humming “Let’s Blow This Town” after watching.

I hope all you dads out there have a truly, truly outrageous Father’s Day!

Father’s Day Quotient: 3

Own It, See It, Skip It?: You may not be able to convince your dad to sit and watch with you, but this one is worth seeing.

SOUNDS OF THE SEASON: SAD SONGS FOR MOTHER'S DAY

To celebrate the approach of Mother’s Day, I present to you a trio of three seemingly unassuming animated scenes/songs about mothers that will give you an emotional punch to the gut. 

I’m not sure why, but over the years animated films and shows have brought us some of the most heart-wrenching songs about mothers and motherhood.  Maybe it’s because they are aimed at children and mothers play a big role in their day-to-day lives, or maybe most animators have a lot of guilt over treating their mothers badly?  Whatever the reason, these songs are guaranteed to trigger your “rush to the phone and call your mom to thank her for everything” instinct.  

First up is "Your Mother and Mine" from Disney's 1953 animated film Peter Pan.  We bought the Blu-Ray edition and recently re-watched Peter Pan, and let me tell you I forgot how dark this movie is.  Peter Pan is seriously dickish and Tinker Bell and the mermaids tooare basically homicidal.  Don't get me wrong-- none of the above diminishes my enjoyment of the movie, which is firmly ensconced in my Top 25 Animated Disney Films list.  I just didn't remember how much refreshingly sour was mixed in the sweet.  There's also this tremendously sad scene, in which Wendy guilt trips the Lost Boys and her brothers via song.  The lyrics and tone of the song are quite melancholy by themselves, but when you remember that the Lost Boys are all either orphans or runaways (or kidnap victims-- I wouldn't put it past Peter) it adds an extra layer of sadness over the proceedings. You'll be sobbing like Smee by the end, and no need to wipe off your own war paint, because your tears will do it for you:

Feeling the blues yet?  If not, this next little ditty should do the trick.  From one of my current favorites, Disney Channel's wildly successful animated series Sofia the First, comes this song from last year's Mother's Day episode.  Sofia's mom, formerly a commoner, married the king and Sofia got herself a stepdad and two step-siblings (she also got a castle, servants, a magical amulet granting her the ability to talk to animals, and enrolled in a school run by fairies  But I'm not jealous.  Not at all).  But in this poignant song Sofia expresses her melancholy at having to now share her mom's affections.  Yes, she's singing to her witch friend but don't let her presence distract you from this heartfelt and surprisingly catchy song:

"Me and my mooooommmmm...."

You are crying now, right?  If not I must assume you are some sort of robot.  And not the emotional replicant kind yearning to be human, but some sort of Terminator assassin type sent to the past to read blogs about holiday-themed media.

Okay, I saved the saddest for lastest.  One of the most overlooked gems of the 80s is 1987's The Chimpunk Adventure.  This animated movie was a staple of my childhood; my sister and I rented it from our local video store religiously, along with our two other holy scriptures, The Muppets Take Manhattan and Troop Beverly Hills.  The story, which involves the Chipmunks and Chipettes in a hot-air balloon race around the world, collecting dolls secretly stuffed with diamonds by smugglers, is bananas in the best way.  There are thrilling action sequences, gender politics, and fascinating geo-politics at work here.  And the music!  "Diamond Dolls" is seriously one of the greatest songs EVER.  I listen to it constantly.  "The Girls & Boys of Rock & Roll" is a close second.  There's also a pretty racist song about Mexico and siestas that we'll conveniently ignore right now.

And then there's "My Mother."  Both the song itself and the scene that contains it are heartBREAKING.  The song is devastatingly sad on its own, but when coupled with the "sick penguin who needs to be reunited with its mother" storyline and visuals...just try and resist the sadness.  Just to up the ante, here is the scene and song from the movie playing simultaneously with a modern-day toddler's reaction.  This little girl is me in 1987 watching the movie and me now.  She is feeling ALL the emotions.  This is also a commentary on the modern state of parenting, where you record your child's heartfelt emotions and broadcast them to the world.  I've tried to adequately prepare you, I truly have.  Now watch:

Okay, that's it.  Time to go call my mom.  

SPRING FOR STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE

Strawberry Shortcake

Season 1 (2003)

We had another obnoxiously early Easter this year, and Mother’s Day is still a ways off (though fast approaching).  This makes for a somewhat tricky time in terms of material for the blog.  The weather is finally starting to turn warm and spring is setting in, but there isn’t an abundance of spring-themed TV episodes and films.  Luckily, years of obsessive research has given me an option for just such an occasion. Hence "Spring for Strawberry Shortcake," the second episode of the 2003 reboot of the greeting card character turned 80s childhood icon.  Previously I watched and somewhat surprisingly very much enjoyed the Christmas episode of this rather short-lived series, so perhaps my hopes were a bit too high going in to this.

We begin in Strawberryland, still coated in winter’s snow, where Strawberry Shortcake is eagerly awaiting the arrival of spring.  She explains to her (I assume baby sister?) Apple Dumplin’ what spring is and how great it is and so on and so forth.  She then assembles her various dessert-themed friends and pets (including the delightfully bitchy cat Custard and braggart horse Honey Pie) to help with the spring planting.  Along the way we’re “treated” to several songs about spring, working together, seeds, etc.

And yet spring still fails to show so Strawberry, in a plot almost indentical to the Christmas episode, sets out to find it.  She’s joined by a couple of her friends along the way, who have their own reasons for wanting spring (it involves a checklist of seasonal items like butterflies, flowers, green grass, baby birds and on and on).  Around this point we get the episode’s best song, a vaguely Calypso number called “Strawberry Jammin.’”  It was also at this point that I paused the TV and was dismayed to see that there was 20 minutes left to go.

Strawberry and her pals cross paths with Old Man Winter, who tells them Spring is an actual person and they have to go the Land of Seasons to find her.  “The Land of Seasons” sounds exactly like the kind of place I’d like to go to, so I perked up a bit at this point.  In short order they get there and meet Spring herself.  If you’ve ever wondered what the embodiment of Spring looks like, she’s around 12 years old and wears a green tutu.  Spring and the Strawberry gang pal around, throwing snowballs, until Spring is convinced to stop having fun and get to goddamn work.  She uses her magic to melt the snow, bring the flowers and trees to life, and at LONG last spring has officially arrived in Strawberryland.

There are several rather jumbled morals presented to us throughout the episode (some through song).  There’s something about teamwork and working together to plant crops, and something else about Spring needing to not be lazy and do her duty—I guess?  This show is definitely aimed at more of a preschool audience, so the plotting is light, the songs are endless, and the animation is pretty iffy.  This episode lacked the charms and clever wordplay of "A Very Berry Christmas," and also suffered from a lack of Custard’s bitchy repartee.  And Strawberry Shortcake media of any form suffers when Sour Grapes, the evil diva herself, fails to make an appearance:

Spring Quotient: A 5, as it doesn’t get much springier than this.

Own It, See It, Skip It?: This one definitely falls into the category of “I watched it so you don’t have to.”  Skip it!

DARK KNIGHT COURT

The Simpsons

Season 24 (2013)

I’ve written before about the scarcity of Easter-themed TV episodes, but luckily The Simpsons has been around for so long that the show has gifted us with not just one Easter episode, but multiple ones (okay, well, at least two that I’m aware of).  Up until now I’d never seen “Dark Knight Court,” for as a Simpsons purist I stick to the first 11 seasons or so.  I was pleasantly surprised by the first five minutes, and then the rest of the (Easter-less) episode was a reminder of why the show has mostly lost its charms.

But let’s start with the good stuff!  We get a nice burst of not only Easter but St. Patrick’s Day right off the bat, as we zoom into the sky during the familiar opening credits and the Easter Bunny and a Leprechaun suddenly appear, battling it out and then exploding in a burst of Easter eggs and shamrocks.  Presumably this is because the episode aired during a year when Easter fell in March, which is a terrible, horrible, no good thing.  I resent March Easters on so many levels.  For one, if Easter comes in March we’re left with an almost holiday-less April (save for April Fool’s Day), thereby rendering the entire month of April useless and boring.  Also, as someone with a late March birthday, I’ve had to endure a couple birthday-Easter combos and I am not a fan.  Every holiday and birthday should gets it due!  Easter I love you (my third favorite holiday!) but stick to April where you belong.  End of rant.

Anyhoo, after the leprechaun and bunny battle there’s a Jesus-related chalkboard gag AND an Easter egg couch gag in the opening credits.  This is full-tilt holiday theming and I was loving it!  After the credits we open on the Springfield town square in the throes of an Easter celebration. The women are strolling around in their lavish Easter bonnets (Marge’s hat features framed photos of the Simpson kids).  There’s a giant, melting chocolate bunny.  There’s even a lovely rendition of the song “Easter Parade” playing, and later an instrumental version of “Here Comes Peter Cottontail” courtesy of the Springfield Elementary band.  One of the best gags involves Moe slinking into a coin-operated booth for a “Peep Show” only to discover it’s just a bunch of candy Peeps lined up for display.

It’s the kind of holiday episode I live for, only everything sadly comes to a crashing halt after the band blows eggs out of their instruments, pelting the crowd and bringing the festivities to an end.  With that, the Easter theme disappears and the episode quickly goes off the rails.  The two storylines involve Lisa defending Bart, the accused prankster, and Mr. Burns being a superhero named Fruit Bat Man. Sigh. 

And because this is a late-in-life Simpsons episode, of course there must be a celebrity guest star.  In this case it’s a surprisingly classy one: Janet Reno, who presides as judge of the kid courtroom.  I really like Janet Reno but she can’t save this episode from suffocating under its own goofy premise.  It’s shame because the opening Easter scene was really charming, but it feels tacked on to an otherwise hodgepodge of an episode.  Plus, what law says we must always have both an A and a B story?!  I could have so done without the whole Mr. Burns-as-superhero silliness.

Easter Quotient: A 5 for the first 5 minutes; 1 thereafter

Own It, See It, Skip It?: Definitely watch the opening five minutes for a dose of Easter fun, then quickly shut off your TV.

WALT DISNEY PRESENTS: I CAPTURED THE KING OF THE LEPRECHAUNS

Walt Disney’s Darby O’Gill and the Little People is must-see St. Patrick’s Day fare for a lot of folks.  Disney fanatic I may be, but Darby has never a particular favorite of mine (I’m more of a Gnome Mobile person, if given a choice between little people-themed live action 60s Disney movies).  So rather than write about Darby itself, I instead elected to watch and review this episode of Walt Disney Presents (a show also known over its long run as Disneyland, Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color, The Wonderful World of Disney and so on and so on).  Turner Classic Movies recently re-aired this special about the making of the Darby film as part of their “Treasures From the Disney Vault” series.  It stars Walt Disney himself and is essentially an hour-long commercial for the Darby film framed as Walt’s trip to Ireland in search of leprechauns for his movie because he’s told “only a leprechaun can play a leprechaun.”

Let's head back to 1959, when this special aired, a time when people still threw around the word "midgets" and smoked a lot onscreen. The episode begins with Walt getting a pep talk from Irish-American actor Pat O’Brien.  Pat struts around a very late 50s-looking living room, smoking a pipe and extolling the virtues of Irish men (“and a few women, too” he says rather begrudgingly).  It’s Pat that urges Walt to fly to Ireland in search of real leprechauns.  Once in Ireland (he arrives via stock footage of an airplane), Walt consults with an Irish librarian who shows him a suit of miniature clothes and gives him a dose of Irish mythology.  Then Walt is off to a local village, where he next teams up with actor Albert Sharpe, in character as Darby O’Gill himself.  

Walt and Darby hang out in some fog-shrouded ruins where they eventually encounter some leprechauns and demand to meet the leprechaun king.  They hang out in the king’s throne room, do some fiddling, and King Brian agrees to lend Walt all the leprechauns he needs for his movie.  Walt then heads back to the states for another confab with Pat O’Brien, who this time smokes a giant cigar instead of a pipe (I can only assume Pat O’Brien died of lung cancer).  We’re then treated to a series of clips and scenes introducing the characters from Darby O’Gill, including a neat sequence with a ghostly banshee and a spectral horse and carriage.

I have to admit all of the above was a bit less than compelling.  It was neat to see Walt Disney playing a version of himself. As Leonard Maltin said in his introduction, it’s interesting to see a living, breathing Walt here who’s not just a brand, which is more the version I grew up with.  Certainly this was chockfull of vintage 60s goodness (the living room décor was especially delightful).  But since everything revolves around Darby, which again is not a particular favorite of mine, I wasn’t exactly enthralled by the proceedings.  Add in Pat O’Brien’s long stretches of pontificating and smoking and the fact that this hour-long special is almost as long as the movie Darby O’Gill and the Little People itself, and you’ve got a curious relic of TV days gone by.  

This special may have been a bit of a snoozer (and, since it was in black and white, lacking the vibrant green hues one hopes for in a St. Patrick’s Day special), but it’s a fitting tribute to Walt Disney’s seemingly boundless imagination as well as his incredible marketing savvy—only Uncle Walt could so cleverly disguise a commercial for family entertainment as family entertainment, and manage to promote so many things at once: his movies, Disneyland, and even himself.

FILM FOCUS: VALENTINE

I am (somewhat covertly) a big horror movie fan, though my weak constitution places limits on how and which horror movies I watch.  Rather than see a scary movie in the theater, I much prefer to watch them the way I did growing up, as reruns on cable with the goriest parts edited out by some kindly network censor.  Watching scary movies on TV also gives you the handy option of quickly changing the channel right before something gruesome happens, and then switching back when you think it’s safe (often only to catch the tail end of the gruesome bit--it takes practice).  I don’t go for gore or “torture porn” but I love me a good  ole fashioned chase sequence and a hapless group of sexy teenagers getting bumped off one by one.  As Nick said the other night, he knows that if I like a certain horror movie it must mean that it’s not actually scary. 

Since the 1970s success of Halloween and Black Christmas, moviemakers have long mined the 'holiday + psychopathic killer = box office gold' formula.  When thinking of a Valentine’s Day slasher film the obvious choice may be My Bloody Valentine (both the original and the more recent 3D remake).  But again, I tend to opt for not-very-scary slashers, so for me the cupid-killer movie that holds my heart is 2001’s box office embarrassment, Valentine.

Valentine is one of those movies with a cast of somewhat recognizable faces, mostly culled from TV shows.  David Boreanz is the biggest name, probably followed by Katherine Heigl, who is only in one scene  because **spoiler** she dies (this is not a spoiler because basically everyone dies).  Heigl later publically regretted her involvement in this movie, claiming she hadn’t read the entire script before signing on.  Knowing how apparently unashamed she is of her many other shitty movies, that really speaks to the quality of Valentine.  Even the movie’s director (who also directed Urban Legends, another fun, not terribly frightening slasher flick I enjoy) has publically apologized for Valentine’s shortcomings.  They can all say what they will, but I still get a kick out of the proceedings.

There really isn’t a plot so much as a series of deaths connected by a Valentine’s Day theme.  The movie begins with a flashback, in which a group of middle school girls help humiliate a dorky boy at a Valentine’s Day dance.  Years later the girls are all blond (except for one, Denise Richards) and sexy and living in San Francisco (which looks more like L.A. by way of Toronto).  One by one the girls receive threatening valentines signed by “JM,” the initials of the geeky boy from their past.  And then one by one they get killed off, along with a lot of other secondary characters who solely hang around to provide a bigger body count (seriously, was it really necessary to kill the maid?!). 

The women fall into the usual horror movie clichés: smart one, fun one, good girl and the slutty girl, the latter played with some spark by Denise Richards.  They are less notable for their characterizations than they are for the methods of their deaths—one is literally shot with arrows by the cupid-masked killer.  The movie’s most memorable death again belongs to Denise Richards.  It involves a sealed Jacuzzi and a power drill, and I'll leave it at that.   There is also the single worst fake severed head you will ever see in a movie.  Not only does it not in the least resemble the doomed detective it’s meant to represent, it’s clearly a mask someone bought at a Spirit Halloween close-out sale.

It all may sound pretty bloody but the gore is surprisingly minimal.  I won’t spoil the ending but basically there are two candidates for who the killer may be, and ultimately neither really makes sense (I even watched the closing scene with the director’s commentary this year and it still didn’t fully clear it up for me).  Amidst all the death is a lot of talk of dating and romance and some odd sexual moments (but no real nudity).  Example: a creepy dude is caught trying on his neighbor’s pantyhose before being bludgeoned to death with an iron.

In terms of its holiday theming, however, Valentine nails it.  There are the aforementioned creepy death threat valentines.  There is maggot-filled candy in a heart-shaped box, red roses, and a heart-shaped sucker.  The final third takes place at the world’s most lavish Valentine’s Day party, with tons of decorations that suggests a passion for the holiday that nobody seems to have in real life.  The killer is also on-theme, wearing a porcelain cupid’s mask.  If you’re one of the many anti-Valentine’s Day people out there, watching a bunch of aspiring early 2000 starlets get murdered by a killer cupid ain’t a bad way to pass the evening.  Or, if you’re like me, and like your horror fairly tame and intestine-free and can appreciate a good-bad movie for what it’s worth, check out the movie or at least the trailer below.

I do still feel bad that the maid had to die though. 

SPECIAL SPOTLIGHT: A MUPPET FAMILY CHRISTMAS

As a kid, one of my favorite things about the days of school vacation leading up to Christmas was watching cartoons and sitcom reruns on weekday mornings.  The majority of them were Christmas-themed episodes, and not only was it a delicious privilege to watch these normally unavailable shows, reserved only for the occasional sick day or summer vacation, seeing that the TV programmers has specially selected to air Christmas episodes always gave me the feeling that the holiday was truly everywhere; pervasive in the best sense of the word.

This is how I first saw A Muppet Family Christmas, being rerun on some random channel one Christmas Eve morning.  I stumbled upon it while channel surfing and was amazed that up until then I’d never seen this special. My sister and I loved the Muppets growing up: we religiously watched Muppet Babies on Saturday morning and rented The Muppets Take Manhattan on a steady rotation.  And yet somehow this greatest of Muppets specials was never a part of our holiday traditions. It may be due to the general scarcity of the special, which remained difficult to find for years and even now only exists in an edited form (scenes were removed after the original broadcast due to song rights issues). 

Falling in love with the special after that first viewing, I eventually tracked down a used VHS copy, which is the same way I still watch it every Christmas Eve morning (it's now available on DVD, but as long as the VHS still works I figure why fix what ain’t broke?  Besides, VHS cassettes have a big nostalgia factor for me).

Any Muppets fan or child of the 80s should adore A Muppet Family Christmas because it brings together the Muppets, Fraggle Rock and Sesame Street. It even features a brief cameo by Jim Henson himself, not long before he passed away.  Not only is it dripping in Christmas spirit, it’s the ultimate tribute to Henson and his beloved characters.  There’s such a thrill in watching the Swedish Chef plot to cook Big Bird, or Kermit travelling to Fraggle Rock (via an entrance in the farmhouse basement).  The Muppet Babies even make a very brief appearance on a projector screen (their scene/musical number is one of the ones that was sadly cut).  This TV special is truly special, not just because of the Christmas theme but also the sense of worlds (in the form of separate TV shows) overlapping.  Not since the Jetsons met the Flinstones have I gotten such a thrill from seeing different characters interact.

The storyline is incredibly simple: all of the aforementioned Muppet characters gather together on Christmas Eve at Fozzie Bear’s mother’s farmhouse.  A blizzard hits, causing Miss Piggy's arrival to be delayed and Kermit to worry.

There are several running jokes and plotlines that have become Christmas lore for me and an entire generation.  There’s an icy patch at the front door that, despite the constant warnings, everyone slips on.  Fozzie’s mother is forced to think of increasingly creative places for her endless flow of guests to sleep (including the bathtub and eventually hanging on hooks on the wall—much to Gonzo’s delight).  There are musical numbers throughout, and the special ends with an amazing Christmas carol medley, composed of just about every Christmas song you can imagine and sung by the assembled cast, a huge crowd of childhood favorites all crammed into one room.  It really feels like a captured moment in time, like someone’s home movie, and even though I watch it year after year, it’s like a special, one-time event each time.

Sadly this year we lost actor Gerard Parkes, who played Doc in Fraggle Rock and, other than Henson’s cameo, is the sole human in the special.  He starts out as the curmudgeon who has rented the farmhouse for some peace and quiet, only to see it invaded by a steady stream of weirdos.  But of course he comes around, won over by the Muppets’ charm, and ends up first dressed first as a footman accompanying Miss Piggy’s sleigh during her dramatic entrance and then as Santa Claus himself.  Parkes’ death will make this year’s viewing rather bittersweet.

If I could chose one TV world to spend Christmas in, it would have to be that snow-bound farmhouse.  Sure, it’s crowded and a bit chaotic, but also incredibly cozy and the love and sense of surrogate family feels so genuine and powerful.  Plus, those Muppets really know how to carol!

Merry Christmas to All—and watch out for that icy patch!