Tag: fred rogers

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood


A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (2019)
★★★ / ★★★★

Based on the Esquire article “Can You Say… Hero?” by Tom Junod, the biographical drama “A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood” manages to stand out a bit from its contemporaries because it is able to capture the essence of Fred Rogers (known to many Americans as Mr. Rogers)—even though the work itself is not about him. It employs slow but purposeful pacing to fascinate, silence to give us room to consider, and irregular beats to draw us deeply into the conflict surrounding a man who cannot find it within himself to forgive his father.

Matthew Rhys plays investigative journalist Lloyd Vogel with a convincing weariness. One looks at his face even for just a few seconds and seething anger can be felt. But the anger is not menacing; rather it is the kind that eats up its host little by little, decade after decade. This anger reaches a boiling point when Lloyd’s father (Chris Cooper) is suddenly thrown back into his life. Rhys delivers a solid performance that stands strong alongside Tom Hanks’ interpretation of the legendary Mr. Rogers. When the two are engaged in a reflective exchange, for instance, they manage to hit every subtle emotion seemingly without effort. When the camera is up close and personal and emotions are exorcised, it feels like a dance.

I think it is a challenge to pull off this type of script. A jaded person crossing paths with a saintly figure and the former learning to have a more positive outlook on life by the end of the story is nothing particularly new. However, there are enough fresh ideas here to blindside the viewers from identifying the more familiar turns of the plot—like taking Mr. Rogers’ empathetic/humanistic approach of dealing with “the mad” one feels, which is targeted toward children, and applying this idea to adults. Had it been helmed by heavier hands, it could have been reduced to yet another Lifetime drama where everyone cries during the climax and all is happy by the end credits. Marielle Heller’s direction is careful and nuanced, so the journey comes across genuine.

Having seen Morgan Neville’s terrific documentary “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?”, I admit I was put off by Hanks’ performance initially. The film opens with Mr. Rogers entering his home, making eye contact with the viewers, taking off the blazer, putting on the famous red cardigan… while singing the theme song. Although I did not grow up with Mr. Rogers or his television program, I felt as though Hanks is more on the side of imitation rather than simply inhabiting.

Having said that, I grew to enjoy his version of Mr. Rogers about a third of the way through—when the character is no longer shooting another episode in front of the camera. Curiously, he remains to be a saint-like figure. It is acknowledged Mr. Rogers is not perfect and does feel anger from time to time, but this is shown only once. The fact that he had challenging relationships with his sons is mentioned, but it is disappointing that it is not delved into. It would have been appropriate because the central conflict revolves around father and son. The thought of the picture being afraid of putting a stain on Rogers’ memory and legacy crossed my mind.

Despite this key shortcoming, I was emotionally engaged by the film. I wondered not necessarily whether Lloyd would choose to forgive his father but rather if he could forgive himself in allowing so many years to pass for harboring so much anger and hatred. Make no mistake that this is Lloyd’s story, not Mr. Roger’s. It does, however, make an appropriate and worthy companion piece with “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” in that both provide layers worth examining closely.

Won’t You Be My Neighbor?


Won’t You Be My Neighbor? (2018)
★★★★ / ★★★★

It is a testament to the documentary’s power that although I have no emotional attachment to Fred Rogers, the host and creator of the beloved “Mister Roger’s Neighborhood,” or his television show, I was fascinated and grew to care for both the man and the series. Director Morgan Neville understands that it is not enough to talk about the subject’s influence or to simply show clips of him behind the scenes or in front of the camera. No, it is imperative to show Mr. Roger’s raw power. It is most appropriate that it happens early in the film: Mr. Rogers looks to the camera—almost through it, really—and addresses the inner child in all of us. I don’t remember the words he used but I remember the way he looked at me, at us. There is an honesty in those eyes, a warmth, a willingness to listen and impart wisdom.

The film is well-paced as it weaves in and out of Rogers’ childhood, his relationship with religion and God, the various stages of his career, and some of the controversies brought up by people who are unable to define or label him. These are punctuated by interviews with Rogers’ family, friends, and former colleagues. But most intriguing are clips of the man relating to another human being: the way he looks at them, touches them, how he carries himself around them. If the film were merely composed of clips involving Rogers simply connecting with others, it would be a fascinating work regardless. The power of the work, you see, is not in words but in thoughts, feelings, and possibilities.

Rogers’ motivation to create a television series for children is compelling. I admired how the picture highlights the trends of programs aimed at kids from the mid- to late-‘60s and onwards. While cartoons, comedies, and variety shows tend to speed up, Rogers decided to use time in his program as a tool to slow down; to breathe; to ponder, consider, and learn. Instead of showing people’s faces getting smacked by pies, he shows how a turtle crawls across a mat. Instead of showing violent cartoons, he employs sock puppets to express deep thoughts and philosophical musings, not at all unlike ideas and questions that children ask about themselves, of people around them, of current events that are unfolding.

Underneath the relaxed nature of the documentary, there is a sense of urgency that juts out from time to time. It implies that since the show’s bow in 2001, there has been a void when it comes to such programming for kids. And it makes for a compelling case. I grew up with Disney, Nickelodeon, and Cartoon Network shows and movies—not one of them offers a high level of insight or courage when it comes to tackling questions or subjects that really matter. I was amazed that “Mister Roger’s Neighborhood” dared to discuss topics such as racism, divorce, death, and even how it feels like to have crippling self-doubt. It made me want to look into the show—entire episodes, not just clips—and see how they are handled. I caught myself thinking that surely there must be an archive of all the episodes because the show is willing to construct a bridge between parent and child so that they are more able to discuss difficult or controversial subjects.

This captivating documentary is about a creative, hardworking, and passionate man who looked at a television and recognized that it could be used as an empathy machine. Look at the way children are so enthralled when Rogers is in the room even without the puppetry. He never looks down on them, he is not afraid to employ multisyllabic words, he goes by the assumption that the children are smart and engaged. His body language is welcoming and upbeat. Children can read nonverbal signals exceedingly well. It is easy to see why Mr. Rogers became a household name for many Americans.