Arts & Entertainment

Curmie’s Conjectures: Too White A Christmas?

/ Jack Marshall / 8 Comments

by Curmie

[Curmie raises so many casting ethics issues that fascinate me in this post that I’m going to announce right now that I’ll post a veritable “Part II” tomorrow, although it will be “Jack’s Conjectures”, or something. Not that I disagree with anything the esteemed Ethics Alarms featured columnist writes here, because I don’t. Here’s a clue about one issue I’ll be covering which Curmie only hints at: for a cast to be sufficiently “diverse,” do the BIPOC members have to obviously LOOK like they are “of color”? I’m thinking of performers like Jennifer Beals, the late Olivia Hussey, and Jessica Alba—JM]

Jack and I exchanged a couple of emails about this story, which I first saw on the OnStageBlog back around Thanksgiving, when this was still news.  I’m pretty sure both of us wanted the other to write about it.  So, a little late, here we go…

The case involves the casting of the Christmas-themed musical Elf at Broadway at Music Circus in Sacramento.  OnStageBlog’s founder Chris Peterson often gets what Curmie’s grad school mentor would call “foam-flecked,” and his editorial here is no exception.  But he does have a point.  Sort of.

The company came under criticism when they announced the cast list for Elf; although a number of the leads were non-white, the entire chorus (seen above) looks pretty vanilla, white-passing if not literally white. Actress (or is she a “social media manager for major hotel brands”?) Victoria Price is one of those who led the charge, pointing to the difference between the Broadway ensemble and the one in Sacramento, and noting that any comments critical of the casting were being deleted.  (I assume she’s telling the truth about this.)

Tony nominee Amber Imam joined the fray, writing that Price’s criticism of both the casting and the removal of negative comments was “absolutely right.  A show that takes place in NEW YORK CITY cannot… CAN NOT have an ensemble that LOOKS LIKE THIS!!!  Do better.  Have you learned nothing?????”

The company’s CEO Scott Klier issued a response that made the situation much, much worse: “cover-up worse than the crime” worse.  Here’s part of it:

“Inclusivity has been and remains my casting and staffing goal for every production. I fell short of that goal for ELF. There is an uncomfortable truth here: Our industry as a whole has largely failed to attract, train and foster the artists necessary to meet today’s demand, and I fear this conversation will continue until it does. It will unfortunately take time. The painful reality of ELF’s casting process was that both the casting submissions and audition attendance revealed few candidates of color and, while those few were undoubtedly talented, they did not meet the dance, music and acting criteria set by our team.”

Hoo boy… Claiming inclusivity as a “goal” and then going 0-for-15 at fulfilling it?  Blaming other people while admitting the decision was yours?  Admitting there’s a “demand” and then ignoring it? 

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Political Cartoon Ethics: Talk About Picking The Wrong Hill To Die On!

/ Jack Marshall / 43 Comments

Ann Telnaes, “a Pulitzer Prize-winning cartoonist” (So what?) for The Washington Post, announced that she was resigning after editors rejected a cartoon depicting WaPo’s owner, Jeff Bezos, genuflecting toward a statue of President-elect Donald J. Trump.

On her substack, Telnaes called the newspaper’s decision to kill her cartoon a “game changer” that was “dangerous for a free press.”

Riiight. The cartoon shows Jeff Bezos and other media figures prostrating themselves to Trump, which is not only untrue, it’s juvenile. That cartoon could have been published in a middle school newspaper. The Post has had a succession of knee-jerk, shrill progressive scolds as political cartoonists in an unbroken line since the partisan-biased Herb Block was also a “Pulitzer Prize winner”—- you know, like the Post was for its false reporting on the Russian Collusion hoax. Like Nikole Hannah-Jones and the New York Times were Pulitzered for creating the anti-America propaganda screed called “The 1619 Project.”

Ethics Alarms has long maintained that political cartoons don’t warrant presence on editorial pages because 90% of them or more communicate grade-school level political sophistication through the jaundiced eyes of artists lacking education, perspective and critical thinking skills. That drawing above illustrates the Ethics Alarms position nicely.

Telnaes is throwing a hissy-fit because she isn’t allowed to publish an obnoxious and simple-minded cartoon—it also isn’t remotely funny—attacking her employer with a cheap shot. The Trump-Deranged, progressives and Democrats on the Post—that is, 98% of the staff, were triggered because Bezos chose not to have his paper endorse Kamala Harris, the worst candidate a major party has run for President since, oh, maybe Horace Greeley in 1872, except that Horace was smarter than Kamala and he never waffled on his positions, which were a matter of record.

It would be a different if the cartoon the artist is so determined to see promoted was interesting, trenchant, original or clever, but it isn’t. The baseball equivalent would be a .216 hitting player quitting his team because the manager chose to leave him off the line-up card.

Why Are Women Still Screaming In Movies?

/ Jack Marshall / 10 Comments

This has bugged me for a long time, but my pique came to a head yesterday when I was watching the early Ray Harryhausen effort “It Came From Beneath the Sea”—you know, the one with the giant octopus that attacks San Francisco?

A lovely actress whom I had never been aware of before named Faith Domergue played a female scientist specializing in marine biology. Throughout the movie, despite being Kenneth Tobey’s love interest (You remember him, right? The hero in the original “The Thing From Outer Space”? Later a villain in “Billy Jack” and one of the air traffic controllers in “Airplane”?) she was completely professional, always composed, bristling at sexist comments and assumptions from the male pigs around her (this was in 1955, remember). And yet when the giant octopus that she had insisted was real while everyone else pooh-poohed the idea finally appeared, she screamed like a teenage girl at an Elvis concert. Why would she do that? She was the only one who was expecting to see a giant octopus! The men around her, in contrast, looked startled or went into action (getting the hell off the beach); only the woman screamed.

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Addendum to “The Jimmy Carter Assessment”: Bless Those Libertarians’ Hearts!

/ Jack Marshall / 4 Comments

Libertarians contribute significantly to civic policy discourse by staking out an extreme position that serves as useful ballast against extreme statists from the other side of the spectrum. I often use Reason, which I used to subscribe to in its print format, for ethics topics. Unfortunately, libertarians constantly erode their credibility by taking absurd positions, arguing for open borders, wanting to legalize heroin, and mu particular favorite, arguing that the U.S. should have sat out World War II.

Today the libertarians, or at least too many of them (one would be too many) are arguing that Jimmy Carter was an excellent President. Yes, I am really reading that. Here is Reason quoting Gene Healy, a vice president at the Cato Institute, with favor:

“Abroad, he favored diplomacy over war, garnering the least bloody record of any post–World War II president. So what if he didn’t look tough, or even particularly competent, as he did it? A clear-eyed look at the Carter record reveals something surprising: This bumbling, brittle, unloveable man was, by the standards that ought to matter, our best modern president.”

Because, you see, the standards that “ought to matter” mean that reducing the American Presidency in influence, prestige and power is a good thing. So what if Americans have no respect for the office or the man holding it? So what if the new template for future leaders is fecklessness and apathy? What “matters” is that if chaos reigns all over the globe, the United States canconfidently eschew all responsibility because no one we care about gets hurt.

Heck, if diminishing the Presidency is an accomplishment, Joe Biden must stand as one of the all-time greats!

I have tried arguing with libertarians periodically over the years, and found them to be cultists, like climate change fanatics, abortion activists and the Trump Deranged. Reality doesn’t impose on their beliefs at all, at least not the libertarians who have swallowed the whole philosophical enchilada. It is useful to have vocal individuals who express principled objections to government over-reach, but when they declare weak leaders good leaders and praise passivity as an absolute virtue, such voices disqualify themselves as serious advocates.

In short, if Jimmy Carter was our best modern President, I’m Woody Woodpecker.

Comments of the Day (In the Thread of the Month!): “Wait…So Everyone’s Been Lying To Me All These Years About What Angels Look Like?”

/ Jack Marshall / 16 Comments

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The commentariate on EA always surprises and delights me, and the response I got to an off the wall post inspired by an AP story about “biblically correct” angels was a perfect example. The resulting thread was a veritable primer on anglelology, with Ryan Harkins weighing in with three substantive posts and several others contributing valuable insight as well.

I don’t deserve you.

One more Christmas tradition that I left fallow this year—like almost all of them—in the absence of my wife was our Christmas Eve reading aloud of the children’s book “The Littlest Angel,” by Charles Tazwell. Grace loved the story so. She would always cry at the place where the Littlest Angel gives his most cherished possession, a simple wooden box where he kept his earthly treasures when he was a child on Earth, as his gift to the soon-to-be-born son of God:

“The Littlest Angel trembled as the box was opened, and there, before the Eyes of God and all His Heavenly Host, was what he offered to the Christ Child. And what was his gift to the Blessed Infant?

“Well, there was a butterfly with golden wings, captured one bright summer day on the high hills above Jerusalem, and a sky blue egg from a bird’s nest in the olive tree that stood to shade his mother’s kitchen door. Yes, and two white stones, found on a muddy river bank, where he and his friends had played like small brown beavers. And, at the bottom of the box, a limp, tooth-marked leather strap, once worn as a collar by his mongrel dog, who had died as he had lived, in absolute love and infinite devotion.”

Somehow, it doesn’t work quite as well if one is thinking of the Cherubim as having eyeballs all over his wings or three heads. But that’s just me…

Here are two of the many remarkable comments first from Ryan Harkins, and then from Sara B. on the post, “Wait…So Everyone’s Been Lying To Me All These Years About What Angels Look Like?” :

***

(First, Ryan…)

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Tales of “White Christmas”

/ Jack Marshall / 4 Comments

I didn’t expect a white Christmas in Northern Virginia this morning, and there wasn’t one. It’s a good thing too: a snow-covered vista would have probably made me cry, and that’s been happening too often this holiday season. (My mother, who made up Christmas traditions and legends as an avocation, once told my sister and me that it was bad luck for the whole year to come if you cried on Christmas.) The song “White Christmas” is supposed to make you cry, however, or at least get a bit misty.

I co-wrote two Christmas revues for my late, lamented (by me, anyway) professional theater company in Arlington, Virginia, The American Century Theater. The most popular of the two was called “If Only In My Dreams,” taken from the lyrics of another wistful Christmas song, “I’ll Be Home For Christmas,” by lyricist Kim Gannon and composer Walter Kent and introduced by Bing Crosby in 1943. The show was constructed around the letters written by GIs overseas during World War II to their families or  girlfriends as Christmas loomed, alternating those stories with narration and the popular Christmas songs of the period.

The most famous and important of these songs was, of course, “White Christmas.” Bing Crosby’s version was the best selling single record of all time for half a century. When Irving Berlin handed the song over to the musician who transcribed his melodies (Irv could not read music and composed by ear, just like another brilliant and prolific tune-smith, Paul McCartney), he  famously announced that he had written, not just the best song he had ever written, but the best song that anyone had ever written.  Continue reading →

The 2024 Ethics Companion To “Miracle On 34th Street” [Updated, Expanded and with a New Introduction]

/ Jack Marshall / 7 Comments

2024 Introduction

When I look back on what I wrote to introduce the greatest of all Christmas movies last year, I almost have to laugh, if I could laugh.

“What makes ‘Miracle on 34th Street” the most appropriate classic Christmas film for 2023 is its theme: the importance of conquering cynicism and  pessimism, and always keeping one’s mind and heart open to hope…. I know my year has been especially miserable on multiple fronts. Nonetheless, I remain, at heart, about 12 years old. The same things make me laugh; my level of optimism remains high; I believe in this nation’s miraculous ability to somehow get out of the fixes it gets itself into; I’m still a romantic, and, yes, I think with a little luck and one more starting pitcher, the Boston Red Sox can make it to the World Series next year. I am being constantly confronted with old friends, some much younger than me, who have suddenly decided to be old: they think old, they act old, and they seem to have given up the future as irrelevant. The Santa Claus myth represents faith in the possible, or rather the impossible. Yes, its easier when you are a child, but it is worth the fight to never lose the part of you that still believes in magic and miracles.”

What a joke on me. My wife died unexpectedly in February. Hidden financial horrors were uncovered that she had been hiding from me. My son decided he was trans; a lot of those friends who were acting old ended up acting dead, and rather convincingly. I lost my last connection to my mother’s family when Aunt Bea died at 96; my mentor and Most Unforgettable Person, Tom Donohue of the U.S. Chamber of Commerce, died as well; one of my closest lawyer clients died too. Another loss that I felt: Luis Taint, the Boston Red Sox pitcher who was at the center of some of my most cherished baseball memories, died this year. A big theatrical project I had been working on for six months was abruptly cancelled (the theater was condemned as structurally unsound). Worst of all, the Red Sox had a star-crossed, frustrating season: if there’s anything worse than watching baseball alone, it’s watching your team lose alone.

Indeed, I do, as Auntie Mame sang, “need a little Christmas,”  but it is very little indeed this year. Luckily for me, there’s a song for that: “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” from “Meet Me in St. Louis.”

So the Christmas movies are about it for me this holiday season. I’ve seen “It’s a Wonderful Life,” “White Christmas,” my favorite version of “A Christmas Carol,” “The Santa Clause,” and even “Holiday Inn.” (No, “Die Hard” and “Die Hard 2” are not “Christmas Movies.) “Elf” doesn’t make the cut; I suppose that I’ll see “A Christmas Story” eventually, though I am sick of it, and Grace’s complaints about Melinda Dillon’s hair haunt me. I will revisit “Home Alone” and “Home Alone 2.” I’m saving “Miracle on 34th Street” for tonight, Christmas Eve.

I confess, I believed n Santa Claus until I was 12. I didn’t want to give the fantasy up: I loved magic, and my parents always tried to make the season magical. (More of that later.) Grace and I tried to do the same with Grant, now “Samantha,” but he was a non-believer by the third grade. Is there anything more joyful to see than the look on a child’s face as he or she sees what Santa has delivered? Will anything feel that wonderful again?

“Miracle on 34th Street” is an ethics movie in part because its artists committed to telling a magical story and charming audiences by working as an ensemble selflessly and  efficiently. The director,  George Seaton also  wrote the screenplay, and it won him an Oscar. He cast his movie brilliantly, and making the correct but bold decision to stick with a matter-of-fact, realistic, unadorned style that keeps the story grounded in reality while it spins off into fantasy.

“Miracle on 34th Street” is about the importance of believing in good things, hopeful things, even impossible things. The movie reminds us that wonderful things can happen even when they seem impossible, and that life is better when we believe that every day of our lives. I’m trying.

One thing this film does well is to concentrate on the secular holiday without any allusions to the religious holy day, but not being obnoxious about it. “It’s a Wonderful Life” straddles the line very cleverly: it begins in heaven, after all. All the “A Christmas Carol” films include Bob Cratchit telling his wife that Tiny Tim mused about how his disability reminded people of Jesus’s miracles at Christmastime, and that’s Dickens’ only reference to Jesus in his story. On the offensive side is the Rankin-Bass animated “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer”—I can’t believe they still show that thing—when the “stormy Christmas Eve” causes Santa to decide to “cancel Christmas.” I’d say that’s above Santa’s pay grade, wouldn’t you agree? It also suggests that Christmas is only about gifts and children. (Do parents today explain that the singing snowman who narrates the story is based on (and looks like) the real person who also sings the most memorable songs? They should. Burl Ives had a fascinating life and a varied career, and those kids will probably be hearing him sing “Have a Holly Jolly Christmas” for the rest of theirs.

Last year I discussed the many remakes and the fact that they all fail to equal the original. I wonder why this, of all the Christmas classics, has inspired so many remakes. Nobody would dare remake “It’s a Wonderful Life.” I think it’s because the story connects with children as well as adults, and there is a sense that a black and white movie very obviously set in the 1940s seems too distant. 

Interestingly, all of the perennial Christmas movies have been made into stage musicals of varying success—“White Christmas,” “It’s a Wonderful Life,” “A Christmas Story,” “Elf”—- but “Miracle on 34th Street” flopped so badly when Meredith Willson [“The Music Man”] adapted it as “Here’s Love” on Broadway that nobody has tried again. The show included the song, “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas,” which Willson wrote long before the show was assembled, and it was still the best song in the weak score. At one point John Payne took over the part of Fred Gailey, reprising his role in the film. But as with all the movie remakes, the show missed Edmund Gwynn, the best Kris Kringle of them all.
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Reflections On The Ethical Holiday

/ Jack Marshall / 20 Comments

 

“Christmas is built upon a beautiful and intentional paradox; that the birth of the homeless should be celebrated in every home.”

—G.K. Chesterton.

“It’s Christmas Eve. It’s the one night of the year when we all act a little nicer, we smile a little easier, we cheer a little more. For a couple of hours out of the whole year we are the people that we always hoped we would be.”

—Frank Cross (Bill Murray) in “Scrooged”

CHARLIE BROWN: I guess you were right, Linus. I shouldn’t have picked this little tree. Everything I do turns into a disaster. I guess I really don’t know what Christmas is all about. Isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?

LINUS: Sure, Charlie Brown. I can tell you what Christmas is all about.  Lights, please?

“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flocks by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them. And they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, ‘Fear not, for behold, I bring you tidings of great joy which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the City of David a savior, which is Christ the Lord.’ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on Earth peace, goodwill toward men.’”

That’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.

—Charles M. Schulz

“Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time.”

—Laura Ingalls Wilder

“Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before!

What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store.

What if Christmas…perhaps…means a little bit more!”

—Dr. Seuss, “How the Grinch Stole Christmas”

“Want to keep Christ in Christmas? Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, forgive the guilty, welcome the unwanted, care for the ill, love your enemies, and do unto others as you would have done unto you.”

— Steve Maraboli, in “Unapologetically You: Reflections on Life and the Human Experience”

“My idea of Christmas, whether old-fashioned or modern, is very simple: loving others. Come to think of it, why do we have to wait for Christmas to do that?”

— Bob Hope

“I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”

—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say,’ returned the nephew. ‘Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round—apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that—as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!”

—Fred, Scrooge’s Nephew, in Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” Continue reading →

Wait…So Everyone’s Been Lying To Me All These Years About What Angels Look Like?

/ Jack Marshall / 22 Comments

Above you will see three interpretations of what angels—you know, those benign, heavenly creatures we hear on high and observe, “Hark! They sing!,” the celestial guardians like the funny little old man who shows Jimmy Stewart that he’s really led a wonderful life, the kind of immortal being that appeared to Mary to tell her she was going to bear the Son of God, you know, those things?—really look like. The version on the left is from the Mike Flanagan horror series “Midnight Mass.” It’s a scary angel, but not as scary as the ones that show up in Robert and Michelle King’s scary TV series “Evil,” which look like this…

Yikes.

The version of Gabriel in the center is pretty much how I had been taught and told and shown how angels look for most of my life, and I assumed that was how they are represented in the Bible. Now, this is at least partially my own fault for not knowing the Bible better than I do, but when artists, churches, Sunday school teachers, movies, tree ornaments, Christmas cards and children’s books all show angels as friendly-looking Scandinavians with big, white, fluffy wings, I think I can be excused for assuming that there is at least as much authority for those representations as there is for anything else in the Bible—-an assertion to which Carnac the Magnificent (oh, look it up, ye of pop culture deficit!) would say to me, “You are wrong, Ethics Breath!”

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“A Christmas Carol”

/ Jack Marshall / 23 Comments

-A-Christmas-Carol2

I finished a seven hour deposition late yesterday (the lawyer grilling me was a Red Sox fan, so it was okay), and from here until after New Year’s Day, I have nothing on my calendar…no, not even Christmas. I am giving gifts to the two families on my cul de sac, my long-time neighbors the Wests who have been so supportive this year, and the absurdly perfect young couple next door with their three adorable children, who warm my cold heart every time I see them riding bikes together, creating adventures, and generally making me feel like I was a crummy father. Unfortunately, the season is reminding me both of wonderful times long gone and last year’s grim, painful holidays, so everything is causing me crippling cognitive dissonance. I can’t wait for it all to be over on January 2.

Nevertheless, I am going to read “A Christmas Carol” to Spuds out loud, and of course watch at least two of the dramatic versions, the 1984 George C. Scott version, and, of course, “Mr. Magoo’s Christmas Carol.” I like all the “Christmas Carols” except the horrible musical starring Albert Finney and Patrick Stewart’s weak entry. No, I don’t count Bill Murray’s “Scooged,” but I do enjoy it if I’m in the right mood. I favor George’s version, first, because he was one of my favorite actors and I miss him, second, because the rest of the cast contains many of my other favorites like Edward Woodward and David Warner, and the creepiest Marley by far. I also admire the adaptation.

The entire text of “A Christmas Carol” is and has been for a long time listed under Inspirations on the Ethics Alarms homepage. I often wonder if anyone uses the Ethics Alarms links, which now reminds me that its time to cull, revise, and update the collection. I use them.

Last year I noted that the last time I directed a professional theatrical production that wasn’t my own, it was a staged reading of “A Christmas Carol.” I miss directing greatly, but if was my last hurrah, I can live with that. “A Christmas Carol” is, after all, the greatest ethics story of them all.

I worry that this Christmas the neighborhood is looking at me as Scrooge: mine is one of the few homes in the neighborhood with no lights, and no decorations, and I have been walking Spuds wearing a black Santa hat that reads “Bah Humbug.” It’s a joke, but maybe people think it’s my real attitude. Nothing could be further from the truth. I love Christmas; I always have and always will. This year, I hope for the last time, it doesn’t love me.

God bless us, every one.