Alice - Imagination

It was good (or disconcerting?) to be reminded that a child's "imagination" doesn't just consist of trees made of candy, bright purple suits, and happy songs. As our class exercise in recalling dreams demonstrated, it also includes the nightmares and strange imaginings of a child’s brain. Alice, despite its slightly disturbing appearance, demonstrates how far-reaching childhood imagination is and how a child exerts control over their imagined world.

As Freud states, it would be wrong to assume that a child’s approach to play is for the same purpose as an adult’s. While we see play as a happy, relaxing recreation, a child “takes his play very seriously and he expends large amounts of emotion on it” (Freud). Alice in the film, bored from reading and receiving slaps from the adult she’s with, moves into her imagination to extrapolate upon reality. Her imaginary reality involves pleasing and frightening situations as she tries to exert power over her situation.

The short “A Shadow of Blue” similarly presents imagination as a means for escape for children. The girl, confined to a wheelchair, imagines that her shadow extends from herself and interacts with the world in ways that she wishes she could—walking, running, freely exploring. As in Alice though, her imagination produces a sinister element which she then has to overcome. The triumph over these imagined enemies—the pressures of the adult world manifested in the ever-rushing rabbit and the dangers of the world manifested in the crow—represent a child attempting to control the anxieties or problems faced in reality.

However, I would like to argue that Alice was more of an adult’s surrealist view of childhood imagination than it was an expression of childish imagination. The formal elements of the film (the taxidermy, the lack of score) were more adult while the actual fantasties (cookies that make you shrink, talking face cards, hedgehog croquet) were more the imaginings of a child. But perhaps I am being unfair for calling the surrealist (coughuglycough) appearance and style of the film “adult.” After all, I’m imposing a modern understanding and aesthetic of childhood onto Victorian story. Victorian era toys were more concerned with replicating reality in miniature than we are today. Using an actual rabbit to portray an imagined one might be more reflective of the Victorian mindset.

And now, for one of the most terrifying films of my childhood, Raggedy Ann & Andy: A Musical Adventure (1977). This clip keeps in theme with Alice as imagination being both innovative and potentially frightening. I honestly can’t watch this for very long because it somehow still communicates to some imagined fear of my childhood.

 

 

 

Not One Less - Documentation

While Not One Less isn’t strictly a documentary, it does record the natural reactions, emotions, and nuances of the child actors as they played fictionalized versions of themselves. By choosing to use amateur and first-time actors to play the children, Yimou Zhang is able to capture authentic performances and, in doing so, document childish behavior and perspective of the world.

Huike Zhang especially provides many true-to-life instances of boyish rough housing and talking back to adults. As I was watching him, I was reminded several times of similar behavior seen in To Be and To Have (2002)—the naughty grins especially. There is something about children that is unreproducible. It’s just like when you ask an adult to draw a child drawing or write like a child. No matter how good at imitating children they are, it never feels authentic. Because of Zhang’s use of hidden cameras and microphones, he was able to capture the authentic, childish behaviors and “non-acting” of his actors which provided the most true-to-life experience for his audience.

Not One Less engages in a child’s reality in conflict with the real world. At a certain level, it deals with Minzhi Wei and Huike’s disenchantment with the world as they face the harsh hunger and realities of being alone in the city. They must also learn that life means hard work and sacrifice as both of them are driven from their homes in order to earn a living, denying themselves (willfully or not) of their childhoods. But unlike some of the clips we watched in class, this narrative fights for their right to be children as they are both able to return to school and turn away from the harsh realities of adulthood in the end.

As for a documentarian recording of childhood, it shares many similarities to Zhang’s approach to fiction. The Lumiere actualities celebrate the small, seemingly mundane lives of these children, when they themselves (as small as they are) don’t find their world small or mundane. Each lunch is an adventure, each stolen possession a tragedy. Though it is our job as mentors and family members to broaden their worlds and eventually introduce them fully into the realities of the world, we must appreciate and nourish their own childish perspective of reality and celebrate and mourn with them.

I’ve had the pleasure of spending at least one night a week with my 3 month old nephew and seeing him slowly begin to recognize and explore the world around him. He learns through a gradual broadening of hi s circular understanding, as the basics (eat, poop, and sleep) build outwards into tasting, noise, dreams, facial recognition, and other sensory discoveries. Just as we saw in Secret of Roan Inish, he learns circularly, not linearly.  

This is a complete indulgence (per the example of our esteemed professor), but here is a documentation of my nephew discovering the wonder that is a tongue and hands.

 



The Princess and the Frog -- Morality

Stories are an often-used mode for teaching children morals and lessons—don’t trust strangers, don’t lie, don’t be greedy. The musical numbers in Disney’s The Princess and the Frog (2009) serve as thematic beats, summing up the flaws and developments of each character as they learn, and are especially memorable for children as the melodies and lyrics are memorized. The film uses story, in both the traditional and musical forms, to teach children that a full life balances both hard work and fun.

Although The Princess and the Frog uses traditional polarization of the villain to firmly confirm to young viewers that he is completely wrong and evil (though a degree of justification is available for adult viewers), it also uses a type of polarization between Tiana and Naveen. Tiana is obsessed with work and scoffs at wishes and hopeful thinking, while Naveen completely shirks any and all work in favor of a charmed, care-free life. Ironically, both are very concerned with money as a means to realize their dreams. The lesson is learned when Tiana and Naveen balance their polarities and find true joy in combining both work and fun.

The song “When We’re Human” uses polarization to first establish this theme of balancing work and freedom. Naveen sings of returning to his old life of riches and freedom, stating that “life is short, when you’re done, you’re done. We’re on this earth to have some fun and that’s the way things are.” On the other hand, Tiana sings, “I’ve worked hard for everything I’ve got and that’s the way it’s supposed to be…If you do your best each and every day good things are sure to come your way.” Both are presented positively to the audience, but their natural opposition to each other emphasizes their incompleteness.

While their overt goal is to become human, their true goal is to learn how to balance their lives and discover what they need, as Mama Odie sings in her song, “Dig a Little Deeper.” Before the song begins, Naveen says “what we want, want we need is all the same thing, yes?” This outlines the moral he learns—that want and need are separate, as one requires sacrifice but yields greater rewards. Naveen learns that “Money ain’t got no soul, money ain’t got no heart” and what he needs is hard work and self-control, found in the form of Tiana, to find true happiness. Tiana, though she doesn’t realize it until the Shadow Man tempts her into choosing her restaurant over those she loves, needs to learn that love and family, in the form of Naveen, is more important than being commercially successful.

In tandem, the film also emphasizes that happiness doesn’t come from money. As stated before, both Tiana and Naveen were convinced that their happiness could be achieved by obtaining money—a thought shared by the film’s villain, Dr. Facilier and his accomplice, Lawrence. The two models of happiness in the film, Tiana’s father and Ray, both have love and little else yet are very happy with their lives. Conversley, it was Facilier’s greed for the power money brings that was his downfall, and it was Tiana and Naveen’s abandonment of money (and all human commodities) that led to their happiness.

The Princess and the Frog is a moral story that conveys its lessons very effectively through its music and characters, the two most prominent aspects of film that children focus on the most. It teaches that true happiness in life is found in the balance between work and fun, responsibility and freedom, and not in the commodities money brings.

 

The Hobbit -- Adventure

As adequate as formal learning may be, there is a natural curiosity in children that drives them to pursue the unknown, the unexperienced—the grand adventure. Media, specifically adventure stories, is a way to satisfy this curiosity for the strange and the epic and curate the inquisitive minds of children. In J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit, Bilbo represents this childish, adventurous spirit as his Tookish blood and overcomes his sensible Baggins nature as he participates in a dwarvish adventure. Tolkien’s writing style and story structure reflect the childish desire for adventure and the learning process which venturing into the unfamiliar brings.

Tolkien writes The Hobbit as if he were telling the tale to a listening audience. He engages the reader by asking direct questions like, “And what would you do, if an uninvited dwarf came and hung his things up in your hall without a word of explanation?” (20) and directly addresses the reader with “but of course, as you have guessed, he did rescue his friends in the end, and this is how it happened” (171). This style of prose engages the reader and encourages them to reflect upon the story rather than merely consume it. These points, especially the direct questions, provide active learning opportunities for the young reader as they consider, what would I do if a dwarf showed up uninvited? How should I act? What would be polite and what would be rude? Tolkien, writing specifically for children, tailors his writing to inspire and satisfy their adventuresome curiosity.  

As an extension of his writing style, Tolkien’s story structure also encourages learning and curiosity, especially in the learning and exploration of the inner self. Central to the adventure genre is a leaving behind of what is familiar and journeying into the unknown. In the beginning of The Hobbit, adventures are “nasty disturbing uncomfortable things” and with “no use” (18). But after Bilbo hears the dwarves sing of their old, lost home and gold, “something Tookish woke up inside him, and he wished to go and see the great mountains, and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls, and explore the caves, and wear a sword instead of a walking-stick” (28). Bilbo’s adventure nature is awakened, and despite his fears of danger, pursues his curiosity.

In his book Walden, Henry David Thoreau speaks of how we move away from nature and its experiences as we grow older until “at last, we know not what it is to live in the open air. From the hearth the field is a great distance,” which is just the dilemma Bilbo is faced with. He must leave the comfort of his domesticity and venture back out into nature in order to connect with his true origins, just as children must pursue their adventurous curiosities.. The defamiliarization of the familiar encourages the discovery of one’s true self and identity. Leaving the comfortable dullness of home is essential to a child’s growth, whether it is a literal separation or an empathetic one through media.

Just as crucial as leaving the familiar is the return to it. On his adventure, Bilbo learns many things about the world and himself. He learns that even elf- and wizard-laid plans can go awry, that the reality of danger spoils the initial fun of leaving home, and of the strength self-reliance brings. It’s the moments when Bilbo is unsupervised that he learns the most. For example, “somehow the killing of the giant spider, all alone by himself in the dark without the help of the wizard or the dwarves or of anyone else make a great difference to Mr. Baggins. He felt a different person, and much fiercer and bolder” (154). But the use of these lessons only comes into being when he returns to Bag-End. Bilbo finds more joy in food and cheer and song, as Thorin puts it, because of his separation from them, and is now free from the social conformities that had plagued him before because of his newfound identity.

As instructive as supervised learning is, it’s important for children to escape the watchful eye of society and learn for themselves. Bilbo comes back from his adventure a different hobbit, and is more assured of his identity and place in the world because of it.