Parenting is arguably one of the most important … is it a job? a task? a vocation? … that any of us will ever undertake.
And yet, what education or training do we receive to prepare us to do it well? Of course, we have the example of our own parents, but sometimes that is more a cautionary tale to counteract than a golden path laid before us. It’s daunting even when your child is herself golden. But how much more daunting when the child under your care is profoundly different from you and nearly all her peers?
This is the challenge that Andrew Solomon, Columbia University psychology professor, writer, and public intellectual, addressed when, following his powerfully thoughtful book about depression, “The Noonday Sun”, he wrote the bestseller, “Far From the Tree”, now an incredible documentary film by Rachel Dretzin.
What makes both “The Noonday Sun” and “Far From the Tree”, in both its literary and cinematic forms, so direct and powerful is the presence of Solomon himself. He wrote about his depression to open up the topic of depression (and visa versa); and he wrote about exceptional children and their parents because he was an exceptional child and is now a parent, thus allowing him to view the phenomenon from both angles. His particular uniqueness, besides his brilliance as a thinker, speaker and writer, is his homosexuality, remembering how when he was growing up just a few decades ago that being gay was considered an illness or infliction. The struggle of his parents to accept and understand his orientation, and Solomon’s own struggle, is what makes up his portion of the film’s story, but it is beautifully interwoven with several other remarkable lives:
There is 41-year-old Jason Kingsley, who has Down syndrome, and his elderly mother. Jason shares a home with two other men with Down syndrome, fashioning themselves as The Three Musketeers, and has a deep identification with Elsa from Frozen.
There is 23-year-old Loini Vivao, who was born with dwarfism, and travels to a Little People of America convention to find a friend who can truly understand her.
There is also Leah Smith and Joseph A. Stramondo, both Little People, who met and fell in love at such a convention. They are embarking on the path to parenthood and must consider the possibility that their children may be full sized.
There is Jack, a young boy with severe autism, and his parents, as both undertake heroic measures to hear each other.
Finally, and most heartbreaking, are the parents of Trevor, who when a teenager, brutally and randomly murdered an 8-year-old child. Here the focus is on the parents, who struggle to understand the actions of their child and their own culpability.
Any one of these stories would make an intriguing and powerful film, and one would think that combined them would overpower a single 93 minute film, but Rachel Dretzin does a masterful job of weaving them together. She does this, not by building to a dramatic or thematic note, than transitioning to the similar or like note in another story, but rather by moving from story to story in the natural rhythm of life, which is a seeming randomness that becomes meaningful on reflection and in context. And that reflection and context is provided by Solomon. Whenever we return to his story, and hear how clearly and insightfully he articulates what he experienced, the light of his understanding and wisdom, illuminates all the other narratives; the universal and human truths shine and heal.
I loved this film in so many ways, and on so many levels, that a single review could never say it all, for every day since seeing it, the truths it spoke rise up in me like reassurances of hope and humanity. Solomon once wrote about heroic kindness, and this film is an example of that noble trait. It is a gift to everyone who was ever a child. It is a gift to every parent. It is an act of love.
And as Solomon wrote, “Some people are trapped by the belief that love comes in finite quantities, and that our kind of love exhausts the supply upon which they need to draw. I do not accept competitive models of love, only additive ones.”
“Mufasa: The Lion King” is a visually stunning addition to the beloved Lion King franchise, offering a fresh and emotionally resonant take on the origins of one of Disney’s most iconic characters. The film beautifully explores Mufasa’s journey, balancing heartfelt moments with touches of comedy that lighten the mood and make the story accessible to audiences of all ages. The animation is breathtaking, capturing the vibrant landscapes and lush environments of the Pride Lands, adding depth to Mufasa’s character and his relationships.
The storytelling is compelling, effectively pulling at the heartstrings while providing insights into Mufasa’s character before he becomes the legendary king. However, the setup for Scar’s betrayal feels somewhat underdeveloped, lacking the deeper motivation that could have enriched their complex brotherly relationship. This missed opportunity leaves a slight gap in understanding Scar’s actions, which could have elevated the dramatic stakes.
The musical score is impressive, featuring memorable songs that enhance the emotional impact of pivotal scenes. While there are several standout tracks, one song, in particular, resonates deeply and is sure to linger in viewers’ minds long after the credits roll. Overall, “Mufasa: The Lion King” is an amazing film and a worthy addition to the Lion King lore that manages to deliver both laughter and tears, offering a rich tapestry of storytelling that fans will appreciate.
“Kraven the Hunter,” directed by J.C. Chandor, aims to introduce a beloved Spider-Man villain to the big screen, but unfortunately, it falls short of expectations. The film suffers from noticeable issues, notably an overuse of ADR (Automated Dialogue Replacement), which detracts from the authenticity of the characters’ interactions and contributes to an uneven audio experience. This technical flaw is compounded by rough storytelling that feels disjointed and lacking in coherence, leaving viewers struggling to connect with the narrative.
Aaron Taylor-Johnson delivers a commendable performance as Kraven, showcasing the character’s gritty nature and complex motivations. His portrayal has potential, and it’s evident that he could elevate the character far beyond what is presented with a stronger script and direction. However, the absence of Spider-Man, a central figure in Kraven’s lore, leaves a void that the film struggles to fill. Without this critical connection, the plot meanders and fails to create the tension or stakes that fans of the superhero genre crave.
Additionally, including Rhino as a villain feels like a missed opportunity; he is presented more as a gag character with limited screen time, undermining any sense of threat or depth. For the average moviegoer, “Kraven the Hunter” might entertain but ultimately feels like a mediocre viewing experience. Comic book fans, however, may find disappointment in this lackluster attempt to create a solo character film. Instead of an exhilarating dive into Kraven’s world, the film presents a watered-down version, leaving audiences wishing for a more cohesive vision that honors its comic book roots.
A Year Without a Santa Claus, the 1974 stop-motion holiday classic produced by Rankin/Bass, is a heartwarming and whimsical tale that has cemented its place in holiday traditions. Based on Phyllis McGinley’s 1956 book, the story revolves around a disheartened Santa Claus who, feeling unappreciated, decides to take a year off from his Christmas duties. It’s up to Mrs. Claus and a pair of well-meaning elves, Jingle and Jangle, to reignite the Christmas spirit and show Santa the world’s unwavering belief in him.
The movie is beloved for its unforgettable characters, especially the bickering Miser Brothers, Snow Miser and Heat Miser. Their catchy, vaudeville-style musical numbers, “Snow Miser Song” and “Heat Miser Song”, are so iconic they’ve become cultural touchstones, often parodied and celebrated decades later.
Directed by Arthur Rankin Jr. and Jules Bass, the film continues the duo’s tradition of stop-motion magic, blending heartfelt storytelling with quirky humor. The voice cast, featuring Mickey Rooney as Santa and Shirley Booth as Mrs. Claus, delivers standout performances. Booth’s warm narration was her final acting role before retirement, adding a layer of poignancy to the film.
Initially released on December 10, 1974, on ABC, the special didn’t immediately achieve the legendary status of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. However, it gained a dedicated following through annual holiday airings, nostalgic appeal, and its distinct charm.
The film’s themes of hope, unity, and rekindling joy remain timeless, making it a perennial favorite for audiences of all ages. Its blend of humor, catchy songs, and a touching message about believing in magic and goodwill ensures its enduring legacy during the holiday season.
For fans of holiday classics, A Year Without a Santa Claus is a must-watch that never fails to warm hearts and spread cheer.
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