Thursday, March 15, 2007

Diary of a Worm . . . and 4 more great animal tales


It's tough being a kid. But it's even tougher being a worm, a mouse, a frog, or a three-legged cat. Part of the appeal of "Diary of a Worm" and other stories contained on this latest installment in the Scholastic Video Collection from Weston Woods is that quality children's literature is recycled and given new life as short films. Together, the five stories on this disc run only 69 minutes (just 14 minutes on the average), but there's a lot of imagination packed into each short film, and different visual styles. That's not surprising, considering that Scholastic is the world's largest publisher and distributor of children's books, and the organization's film series has won awards from Parents' Choice, National Parenting Publications, and the Parents Television Council. So far, the series has presented classic children's books on film using the original artwork, whenever possible, and adding animation.

Diary of a Worm
The title story by Doreen Cronin (illustrated by Harry Bliss) sets the tone for this collection, which is as whimsical as it sounds. "Must make tunnel . . . help earth breathe," the little worm says as he eats his way through the earth, providing aeration for plants. Though this story stays on the far periphery of science, the chief benefits and characteristics of worms are still somehow conveyed through a single likable worm who records his thoughts in a diary. "Must not bother dad while he's eating the newspaper" is another entry, as is one for April 4: "Fishing season started today." At the first sound of a spade, the whole family (even grandpa worm) wriggles down to deeper digs. The narration by Alexander Gould puts a child's voice on the main worm character, which is part of the appeal. The colors are bright, the text is humorous, and embedded in between light jokes are little lessons on life. "I got in a fight with spider today," worm writes. "He told me you have to have legs to be cool." Does worm get mad? Does he get in a fight? No. The behavior he models is a lesson for children: it's okay to feel sad for a while, but don't get angry, don't get even, and don't wallow in self-pity. Within a day, worm is back to his old self, making spider laugh so hard that he falls out of his tree. And the music by Zdenek Zdenek is appropriately jazzy and playful, which makes the whole story seem even more accessible. It's entertaining, plain and simple.

Anatole
In another film by Gene Deitch, who gave us "Diary," we're transported to Paris. There we meet a mustachioed mouse named Anatole who's the breadwinner (umm, make that cheesewinner) for a little family of mice. Each day he pedals off to the cheese factory, ostensibly to work. He thinks he's a cheese taster, and of course one of the perks of the job is that he gets to bring samples back for his family. But one day he's seen, and hears the company president badmouth him and all mice. It hurts his feelings. After all, he only took enough cheese to feed his little family. His wife sympathizes with him but helps him to see the other side of the story. He's taking, without giving anything back in return. Okay, he thinks, I shall give back. And he leaves a little note on every wheel and wedge of cheese that he tastes: "Good," "Very Good," "Throw it Away," "Needs more pepper," "try some orange rind," and so on. This causes quite a stir at the factory as all the REAL cheese tasters are confounded. Who is this mysterious taster signed "Anatole"? The president of the company tries to catch him in the act one night, but falls asleep. When he finally meets the mouse and learns he's the one who's been helping them produce the best cheese in France, he sends his secretary to call off the exterminator. The story itself may be a little over the heads of younger viewers, but the colors are bright, the music appropriately Parisian, and the moral clear as a bell. Best of all, no mice were harmed during the making of this 1960 film, which was based on the Eve Titus 1956 book with Paul Galdone illustrations.

Frog Goes to Dinner
This is the first live-action book adaptation I've seen in the Scholastic series. The book by Mercer Mayer gets the silent treatment in this 1985 film, which uses only one word of dialog ("Stop!") uttered just once near the film's end. Everything else is conveyed through music and Foley effects. Basically, it's a chain reaction book/film, on the order of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. Instead of a mouse, it's a big bullfrog who happens to be the pet of a nameless little boy who looks to be around age 8-9 (played by Bruce Donaldson). He's taken to a fancy restaurant by his parents (Elise Dewsberry, Glen Lawrence), and causes no small amount of chaos when he secretly takes his beloved pet along for the ride. In this film adaptation, the comedy is broader than most in the Scholastic series, with the frog ending up in a musician's saxophone, inside a diner's water glass, on top of a soufflé, and eventually in the hands of the head chef, who's ready to slice the frog and pan-fry him. That's when we hear the only word shouted by the boy, who's snuck away from his parents when he noticed the frog missing. The style of this film is not unlike some of the live action you saw on "Sesame Street" during the '70s and '80s, with one dining couple looking and acting like people in a Bennie Hill sketch. But the Harry Manfredini music is up to the task of keeping this panicky pantomime on-track, and it turns out to be surprisingly effective.

It's tough being a kid. But it's even tougher being a worm, a mouse, a frog, or a three-legged cat. Part of the appeal of "Diary of a Worm" and other stories contained on this latest installment in the Scholastic Video Collection from Weston Woods is that quality children's literature is recycled and given new life as short films. Together, the five stories on this disc run only 69 minutes (just 14 minutes on the average), but there's a lot of imagination packed into each short film, and different visual styles. That's not surprising, considering that Scholastic is the world's largest publisher and distributor of children's books, and the organization's film series has won awards from Parents' Choice, National Parenting Publications, and the Parents Television Council. So far, the series has presented classic children's books on film using the original artwork, whenever possible, and adding animation.

Diary of a Worm
The title story by Doreen Cronin (illustrated by Harry Bliss) sets the tone for this collection, which is as whimsical as it sounds. "Must make tunnel . . . help earth breathe," the little worm says as he eats his way through the earth, providing aeration for plants. Though this story stays on the far periphery of science, the chief benefits and characteristics of worms are still somehow conveyed through a single likable worm who records his thoughts in a diary. "Must not bother dad while he's eating the newspaper" is another entry, as is one for April 4: "Fishing season started today." At the first sound of a spade, the whole family (even grandpa worm) wriggles down to deeper digs. The narration by Alexander Gould puts a child's voice on the main worm character, which is part of the appeal. The colors are bright, the text is humorous, and embedded in between light jokes are little lessons on life. "I got in a fight with spider today," worm writes. "He told me you have to have legs to be cool." Does worm get mad? Does he get in a fight? No. The behavior he models is a lesson for children: it's okay to feel sad for a while, but don't get angry, don't get even, and don't wallow in self-pity. Within a day, worm is back to his old self, making spider laugh so hard that he falls out of his tree. And the music by Zdenek Zdenek is appropriately jazzy and playful, which makes the whole story seem even more accessible. It's entertaining, plain and simple.

Anatole
In another film by Gene Deitch, who gave us "Diary," we're transported to Paris. There we meet a mustachioed mouse named Anatole who's the breadwinner (umm, make that cheesewinner) for a little family of mice. Each day he pedals off to the cheese factory, ostensibly to work. He thinks he's a cheese taster, and of course one of the perks of the job is that he gets to bring samples back for his family. But one day he's seen, and hears the company president badmouth him and all mice. It hurts his feelings. After all, he only took enough cheese to feed his little family. His wife sympathizes with him but helps him to see the other side of the story. He's taking, without giving anything back in return. Okay, he thinks, I shall give back. And he leaves a little note on every wheel and wedge of cheese that he tastes: "Good," "Very Good," "Throw it Away," "Needs more pepper," "try some orange rind," and so on. This causes quite a stir at the factory as all the REAL cheese tasters are confounded. Who is this mysterious taster signed "Anatole"? The president of the company tries to catch him in the act one night, but falls asleep. When he finally meets the mouse and learns he's the one who's been helping them produce the best cheese in France, he sends his secretary to call off the exterminator. The story itself may be a little over the heads of younger viewers, but the colors are bright, the music appropriately Parisian, and the moral clear as a bell. Best of all, no mice were harmed during the making of this 1960 film, which was based on the Eve Titus 1956 book with Paul Galdone illustrations.

Frog Goes to Dinner
This is the first live-action book adaptation I've seen in the Scholastic series. The book by Mercer Mayer gets the silent treatment in this 1985 film, which uses only one word of dialog ("Stop!") uttered just once near the film's end. Everything else is conveyed through music and Foley effects. Basically, it's a chain reaction book/film, on the order of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. Instead of a mouse, it's a big bullfrog who happens to be the pet of a nameless little boy who looks to be around age 8-9 (played by Bruce Donaldson). He's taken to a fancy restaurant by his parents (Elise Dewsberry, Glen Lawrence), and causes no small amount of chaos when he secretly takes his beloved pet along for the ride. In this film adaptation, the comedy is broader than most in the Scholastic series, with the frog ending up in a musician's saxophone, inside a diner's water glass, on top of a soufflé, and eventually in the hands of the head chef, who's ready to slice the frog and pan-fry him. That's when we hear the only word shouted by the boy, who's snuck away from his parents when he noticed the frog missing. The style of this film is not unlike some of the live action you saw on "Sesame Street" during the '70s and '80s, with one dining couple looking and acting like people in a Bennie Hill sketch. But the Harry Manfredini music is up to the task of keeping this panicky pantomime on-track, and it turns out to be surprisingly effective.

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