I first heard about Great Wolf Lodge through several commercials and an episode of Undercover Boss (though I didn’t watch said episode completely), with the immediate attraction being the indoor water park chain’s lupine mascot Wiley Wolf, outfitted in an adorable boy scout/park ranger combination uniform. As such, I researched said company and discovered their anthropomorphic animal cast aimed at younger audiences. The characters would endure several aesthetic changes, the latest of which would star in a short movie, The Great Wolf Pack: Call to Adventure, released in 2022.
The film itself stars Wiley Wolf in his latest design as he joins friends like Sammy Squirrel, Oliver Raccoon, and others in an adventure that later involves a clash between two races with a claim to a territory. The characters are cute, the animation is fluid, the themes are relatable, and the voice performances are well-executed. However, there are issues like the general kiddy nature of the movie and lack of appeal to older audiences. Many “why” moments regarding dialogue and conversations also abound, and other oddities like Oliver having red panda parents come at the end. The theme songs during the ending credits are somewhat excruciating as well.
Still, it’s not a long film and is viewable on YouTube.
Based on the 1951 Lerner and Loewe American Western musical of the same name, the 1969 adaptation of Paint Your Wagon stars Lee Marvin as a prospector, Clint Eastwood as an amnesiac whom he recruits as his business partner, and Jean Seberg as one of a Mormon’s wives that he decides to sell to the highest bidder. I first saw this film as a rental in my town’s Blockbuster Video when that chain was still a thing, the title alone piquing my curiosity, the fact Clint Eastwood was in it being one of the sole things I knew about it. The following knowledge I would get about the film came from a brief spoof in The Simpsons episode “All Singing, All Dancing.”
Despite the title, the musical has nothing at all to do with literally painting wagons, with “paint your wagon” being a (very) dated expression meaning “to get things done.” Marvin’s character, Ben Rumson, dubs Eastwood’s “Pardner” as he recuperates, with a new tent town, “No Name City,” emerging when they discover gold. The male inhabitants become lonely from no female companionship until the mentioned Mormon husband comes and sells his wife Elizabeth to a drunken Rumson. A love triangle quickly emerges when Ben leaves his fiancé under Pardner’s care.
The latter portion of the movie involves Rumson and his men scheming to tunnel beneath No Name City to collect gold dust precipitating through the floorboards of saloons from paying customers, the only notable plot detail of which I had heard, courtesy my high school economics class, before I streamed this film. A zealous parson also comes to town in futile attempts to get its residents to abandon their sinful ways. Of course, many musical numbers abound, and while Marvin and Eastwood have never been known for their singing abilities, they did decently, with the former’s “Wand’rin’ Star” probably being the high point of the film’s songs.
While I know this film gets its share of criticism, much justified, I found it an entertaining watch, with some initial themes like Rumson putting his business partners first and his apathy towards humanity resounding well with me. Mature content like references to venereal disease and prostitution also get some spotlight. Religious themes are front and center as well, given Rumson’s indifference towards God, the references to Mormonism and polygamy, and the ultrareligious preacher. Much of the film likely didn’t fly well with 1969 moviegoers (though modern audiences would probably find it less offensive than, say, Blazing Saddles). However, I think that time has vindicated it somewhat, and don’t regret seeing it.
I remember watching the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory starring the late Gene Wilder back near the end of fourth grade, and it remained an endearing classic in my mind to the point where I rewatched it a few times when it appeared on television the following decades. I never read the Roald Dahl book and maybe saw Tim Burton’s adaptation once a few years after it was released. It’s been a bit of a curse for film adaptations of Dahl’s work to falter financially at the box office as the 1971 movie did (though Burton’s version and this were exceptions).
This prequel serves as a companion piece to both the 1971 film and Dahl’s original novel, starring Timothée Chalamet (whom I know best as Paul Atreides in the latest adaptations of Frank Herbert’s Dune) as the eponymous fledgling chocolatier, twenty-five years before the events of the first Willy Wonka film. When he returns home, he struggles financially yet finds ways to make ends meet as he grows his chocolate business. An Oompa Loompa named Lofty, portrayed by Hugh Grant like the non-dwarf actors portraying the halflings in the Lord of the Rings films, eventually aids Wonka in his endeavors. Oh, and the film’s a musical.
While I have fond memories of the original Gene Wilder film, I didn’t have any expectations before watching this prequel film but ended up enjoying it. The musical numbers are pleasant, with many original tunes alongside staples of the 1971 movie like “Pure Imagination” and “Oompa Loompa” (with Grant singing a quirky ending credits epilogue for the various characters to its tune). The cast performances are superb, the settings well executed, and the effects brilliant, accounting for an entertaining movie that does the novel and first film adaptation justice.
Disney’s original animated interpretation of the classic myth of Hercules opens with the songstress Muses narrating the film’s backstory in a musical style combining elements from the soul and gospel genres (and the studio back then was still mindful of DEI, even if in a different fashion), leading to the present where the gods Zeus and Hera have their titular son in Ancient Greece. Mythologically, the film fuses elements from Greek and Roman mythos, with Herc’s equivalent in the former being Heracles, but admittedly, that moniker doesn’t roll off the tongue, and deviations from the original myths abound.
While most of the gods of Mount Olympus celebrate Hercules’ birth, Zeus’ brother Hades, brilliantly portrayed by James Woods and the high point of the film, plots to overthrow the heavenly deities to rule himself. Thus, he sends his minions to kidnap the infant Herc and off him after having him ingest a potion that strips his immortality, although humans interrupt them and make them flee, leaving him with a drop of his godliness. Raised by mortals, Hercules faces estrangement for his excessive strength and discovers his destiny to rejoin the gods through heroism, with the satyr Philoctetes (or just Phil), just as memorable as Hades due to Danny DeVito’s performance, taking him on as his apprentice.
After proving his heroism in Thebes and boosting his popularity to being merchandized, Herc eventually confronts Hades and the Titans he seeks to revive while fighting for his eventual love interest, Megara (or Meg). In conclusion, this is probably one of my higher-regarded films in the Disney animated canon since I can easily relate to its themes of alienation and ostracization due to character and talent. Likewise, “Go the Distance” is an enjoyable central theme; despite what critics have said, I prefer Roger Bart’s in-movie rendition to Michael Bolton’s during the ending credits. As I mentioned, the film does take liberties with Greco-Roman mythology, but I nonetheless enjoyed it.
I was randomly surfing the internet when I discovered this web series about the titular fictional Christian educational cartoon starring the lapine Angel Gabby, who interacts with an earthly badger, Friend Francis, teaching important lessons to younger viewers. The main viewer is Jonah, to whom Gabby directly talks, with some dark twists occurring as the series goes on, with the show itself marketed as part of the analog horror genre. Even so, I didn’t find it all that scary, yet the animal characters are cute. Some of the longer segments on YouTube show off the music featured in the series, most being old doo-wop songs. Ultimately, it’s not an excellent show, but an endearing one.
The first Indiana Jones film sequel, actually occurring chronologically before the first, opens with American songstress Willie Scott performing a Chinese rendition of the titular theme from the old Broadway show Anything Goes in 1935 Shanghai, where the eponymous college professor, archaeologist, and adventurer negotiates with Chinese mobsters in an exchange of treasured artifacts, which culminates in a shootout that leads to Indy escaping with the woman who semi-serves as a love interest, along with his trusty sidekick Short Round, portrayed by Vietnamese child actor Ke Huy Quan (who would ultimately append Jonathan to his name upon becoming a United States citizen, his other notable role being Data in The Goonies).
The party of three escapes on a cargo plane whose pilots eventually bail out, and after a lucky escape, they find themselves in colonial India, where the first village they encounter has lost a precious stone along with its children used by an evil shaman as child labor, and Indy decides to help them, traveling to a Maharaja’s palace for a hearty “meal”, and that night, after an assassination attempt, he finds a passageway into the eponymous temple, Short Round coming along and Willie following suit to rescue them from a trapped room that nearly kills them, although she needed to overcome her fear of bugs (which I very much share, so it would be hard for me in such a situation).
The remainder of the film involves the three dealing with the cult that stole the sacred stones and kidnapped the children and concludes satisfactorily. It’s very much a good film, but it’s probably my least favorite of the series due to being way too dark and gross at times, and when it originally came out showed the flaws of America’s film rating system (it was instrumental in adding PG-13 to it, although I more think it should have been rated R). Apparently in the eyes of the MPAA’s film raters, saying the f-word is a lot worse than ripping someone’s heart out or otherwise attempting to murder someone, which says a lot of the sorry state of how Americans perceive certain “offensive” content.
The film’s overall xenophobic attitude is another reason I don’t hold Temple of Doom to the in the same regard as other Indiana Jones films (and Short Round is a memorable sidekick, but not in a good way), given the portrayals of the Chinese and Indian people and society, and that I think is another factor to consider when giving movies content ratings. Even so, John Williams’s score is also notable, given the mentioned Chinese rendition of one of the older Broadway showtunes, along with several pieces fitting the Asian locales throughout the movie, along with “The Raiders March” and its various remixes, the ending theme worth sitting through the opening credits to hear. Not a bucket-list film like Raiders but has nonetheless aged well.
For probably the first time in my life, a hymn in the church I attend had a substantial emotional impact on me to the point where I completely soiled the handkerchief I always keep on hand, specifically that in this post’s title, in celebration of Hallowtide, which has probably and officially become the most emotional season of the year for me. The main verses that teared me up, with the music really helping, were And one was a doctor, and one was a queen / And one was a shepherdess on the green and And one was a soldier, and one was a priest / And one was slain by a fierce wild beast, the former bringing to mind Elizabeth II’s recent passing and the latter my grandfathers and granduncles that had been in the military. It actually inspired me to write a supplemental verse, keeping in mind contemporary vocations, animals, and to an extent, the furry fandom, with my use of the term “Dark Lord” reflecting my affinity for fantasy novels:
Remy's Ramblings 