Outside of the Star Wars universe, nothing made a bigger impression on my childhood than Jim Henson’s Muppets. Starting with Sesame Street and continuing with The Muppet Show, Henson’s creations were, and remain, very “real” to me. The Muppet Show felt like a throwback to old variety shows and they taught me an appreciation for musical theater and planted the first seeds of a lifelong love of the bad joke, the pun, and the breaking of that 4th wall.

For a child who had long conversations with his teddy bear, the Muppets were the ultimate anthropomorphization. They talked back. They had their own personalities. They functioned in their own version of a real world setting and interacted with human beings. And while I was old enough to know from my first exposure to them that they were puppets being controlled by humans, the real talent of Jim Henson and his crew was that they made it all too easy to get swept up in the magic and believe. I find it intensely gratifying whenever I hear the stories about people who interview/interact with the Muppets that they quickly find themselves actually making eye contact and talking “to” the puppets and not the puppeteers.

The early death of Jim Henson brought me profound sadness. His spirit and spark are not easily imitated. However, with few exceptions I have enjoyed the post-Henson Muppet adventures. A particular favorite film of mine during the holiday season is A Muppet Christmas Carol. When it was announced that the Muppets would be returning to the big screen, any screen, after such a prolonged absence, I was possibly more excited than a man in his 40’s should be. I recently read an Entertainment Weekly article about Jason Segal’s own childhood Muppet obsession and the passion with which he and director James Bobin (also a Muppet fanatic) approached this project and I knew that I would have to support my favorite frog by seeing this on the big screen. So date night tonight was, you guessed it, The Muppets. Thankfully my wife is also a fan.

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Orphan, Clock Keeper, and Thief, twelve-year-old Hugo lives in the walls of a busy Paris train station, where his survival depends on secrets and anonymity. But when his world suddenly interlocks with an eccentric girl and the owner of a small toy booth in the train station, Hugo’s undercover life, and his most precious secret, are put in jeopardy. A cryptic drawing, a treasured notebook, a stolen key, a mechanical man, and a hidden message all come together…in The Invention of Hugo Cabret.

This book jacket copy of Brian Selznick’s 2007 YA novel The Invention of Hugo Cabret is a most fitting synopsis for the just released film adaptation of the book. Selznick’s Caldecott award winning novel, the first novel to win this illustrator’s award, is above all things a love letter to classic film maker Georges Melies, whose iconic film images are likely to be familiar even to those of you who have no knowledge of Georges Melies. The Invention of Hugo Cabret is described by its creator as “not exactly a novel, not quite a picture book, not really a graphic novel, or a flip book or a movie, but a combination of all these things”.

Selznick’s novel was a brilliantly inventive work intricately pieced together with both prose and pictures. Despite its massive outward appearance it was a quick and delightful read and though I was late to the party, reading it a year after its release, I joined the large number of people who declared it one of their favorite books of the year. Needless to say, despite the stunning trailer, I was worried about how this creative work would translate to the medium by which it was inspired.

In the capable hands of Martin Scorsese, it translated just fine.

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It was a (almost dark) and (threatening to be) stormy (evening), need there be any other excuse to go see the latest film presented by acclaimed director Guillermo de Toro?

I thought not.

There is a power that draws me, like a moth to the flame, to films with scary old houses, children, and things that go bump in the night. When a film can combine those elements with the requisite thunder storms and power outages and menacing threats that tell the houses’ inhabitants that they should run like hell lest they become the latest victims, the part of me that wants to be deliciously scared stands up and takes notice.

And once in a while this type of film will have that something special, that spark of All Hallows magic, that will propel it to that cherished status wherein it becomes a film that I want to watch time and again when the days shorten and the nights grow long and chill. Films like The Others, El Ofranato (The Orphanage), and Pan’s Labyrinth have attained that station in our home.

I was hoping for a similar connection with Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark. Did it have that spark?

Continue reading Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark, Film Review →

When looking for the quintessentially gothic tale, one need look no further than Charlotte Bronte’s classic novel, Jane Eyre. For one hundred and sixty-four years Bronte’s novel has captured the imagination of readers the world over. In addition to its social commentary and moody, atmospheric romance, Bronte’s novel survives and thrives because of the strength of its eponymous heroine. As with many of the lasting works of 19th century female authors, it is to be expected that every so often a new set of writers and film makers will bring their own interpretation of it to the big screen. Don’t misunderstand me, I couldn’t be more happy. I like a good period film.

I had every intention of seeing this film in theaters when it was released in March, but the road of good intentions did not lead me to the box office. And so the family made an extremely rare trip to the local video store on Friday night to bring Jane home for visit.

It was a wise choice.

Jane Eyre is a starkly beautiful, moody film overflowing with an atmosphere of gothic romanticism. The nuanced performances are subtly effective in building sense of unease and foreboding, even for those well-versed with Bronte’s plot.

Continue reading Jane Eyre Film Review, 2011 →