Boy Story

It certainly resides outside of popular opinion, but I liked Pixar’s latest, Finding Dory (Stanton/MacLane) much more than I did Finding Nemo.  I think that certainly has to do in part with how much I didn’t like the original, though the sequel brought some new insights into much sharper relief for me.  I remember my first impression about Nemo was how loud a movie it was. Headache-inducing loud. For a medium that conducts sound faster than air, it seems everyone still has to yell underwater.  Because everyone in Nemo yells.  A lot. I don’t remember modern submarine movies like U-571 or The Hunt for Red October being so loud, because while they may have huge explosions like Nemo does, they don’t have fish that shout constantly.

But watching Dory, I realized that the thing I really didn’t like about Nemo was Marlin.  In fact, all the parts of the first movie with “Sharkbait” and his aquarium comrades are a lot of fun.  And this has nothing to do with Albert Brooks, who is a terrific comedian and has been one of the best voiceover contributors to The Simpsons over the years (his Hank Scorpio is legendary).  I just couldn’t stand Marlin, just like I quickly grew to hate Harold Perrineau’s character (whose incessant cries of “Walt!” became a running joke for fans) on TV’s Lost.  Or how, as much as I love the actor Glenn Ford, I grew increasingly irritated with him in Vincente Minnelli’s film The Courtship of Eddie’s Father.

Now, I am not a parent.  And for reasons both social and biological, it’s almost a near certainty that I never will be one.  So I can’t relate to having kids and don’t presume to even come close to understanding the bond and attachment that grows out of raising and loving and nurturing children.  To whatever extent I can project or conjure those kinds of emotions, I also know they are almost certainly a pale shadow of the real thing.

So I don’t know what it’s like to be responsible for another human life like that.  But I do know what it’s like to live with parents who are overly-protective, highly reactive, incredibly judgmental, and obsessive glass-is-always-half-empty worriers.  This is not something I feel I can complain about, because it was always completely motivated by love, for which I’m deeply grateful.  But it is still also why I couldn’t wait to leave home and why I’m rarely nostalgic about anything in my childhood, because it was usually defined by things I couldn’t or shouldn’t do.

So I have a visceral reaction to Marlin which may be disproportionate but is still very real to me.  A lot of other parents I’ve known had one Marlin and one Dory—one person who was the practical, grounded, slightly fussy one while the other was the more fanciful, adventurous, slightly scattered one.  They would balance each other out and that’s why Dory is the best thing about Nemo and the corrective figure that Marlin badly needs.

Furthermore, I could identify with Finding Dory in a way I couldn’t with Nemo because it is a tale of misfits and outsiders: Hank the septopus (a sly shoutout to Loren Bouchard’s Home Movies), Destiny the whale shark and Bailey the beluga are all welcome additions to the maritime version of the Island of Misfit Toys.  They’re characterizations that are funny and touching, as are Dory’s parents, who worry but trust and empower, not smother.  And of course, Dory is at the center, a jewel among Pixar’s stellar assortment of wonderful characters, largely due to Ellen DeGeneres’s phenomenal performances across both films.  I’ve seen Nemo several times since (TV mercifully has a volume button) but I already know that Dory is one I’ll be revisiting even more.  I loved it.

Which is what makes the USPS issues of Pixar stamps a few years back even more frustrating since Dory was one of the few compelling female characters in the first 15 years of Pixar features, but she (and other women ) were slighted in what was already a highly boy-oriented landscape.

Here is the breakdown of boy vs girl characters depicted on the 10 Pixar stamps:

M: Bullseye, Buzz Lightyear, Carl Frederickson, Dash, Dug, Flik, Lightning McQueen, Linguini, Mater, Mike Wazowski, Mr. Incredible, Nemo, Remy, Squirt, Sulley, Wall-E, Woody (17)

F: Boo, Dot, Jessie (3)

Ouch.  No Dory, no Eva, no Elastigirl.  Heck, Bonnie Hunt has provided character voices in 3 different Pixar franchises and none of her incarnations are referenced either.  Up doesn’t have any women at all (who survive the opening montage) and Cars and Ratatouille both have single token females.  And the other features from that era aren't much better (A Bug's Life having the best assortment, via Hunt, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Madeline Kahn, Phyllis Diller, and others).

The studio has gotten better with Brave and the exceptional Inside Out, both of which were made after the USPS stamp issue.  But the omissions still feel glaring and another release that includes Merida and Hope & Sadness along with those already MIA would be most welcome. 

By contrast, here is the breakdown by gender of the 5 years of Disney stamps (excluding Mickey, who appears once each year)

M: Aladdin, Baloo, Bambi, Beast, Donald Duck, Dopey, Dumbo, Flounder, Genie, Goofy, Jiminy Cricket, Mad Hatter, Lucky, Mowgli, Mustafa, Peter Pan, Pinocchio, Pluto, Pongo, Prince Charming, Simba, Thumper, Timothy the Mouse, Tramp (24)

F: Alice, Ariel, Aurora, Belle, Cinderella, Fauna, Flora, Lady, Merryweather, Minnie Mouse, Snow White, Tinkerbell (12)

So not great, but far better than a 1:6 ratio.  So why not another issue from Disney too, with Anna & Elsa, Lilo, Miss Bianca, Mulan, Pocahontas, Rapunzel, Tiana, and Vanellope von Schweetz to level the playing field a little?  Seems fair to me.

The Scott #s for the pictures Pixar stamps: Buzz (4555), Wall-E (4557), Bug's Life (4677), Nemo (4679), Woody (4680) & Monsters (4681).  The Disney stamps pictured are Little Mermaid (3914), Peter Pan (4193), Aladdin (4194), Sleeping Beauty (4344) & Jungle Book (4345) .  Elektra was part of the Marvel Comics series (4159i), Where the Wild Things Are part of the children's books issue (3992) and Barnum & Bailey part of the circus poster release (4903).  Sweet corn was #5005 and the tropical fish stamps are #3831f (taken from the Pacific Coral Reef sheet) , 2866, & 3320 respectively.

My Top 10 favorite Pixar movies

1. Toy Story (1995, Lasseter)
2. WALL-E (2008, Stanton)
3. Toy Story 3 (2010, Unkrich)
4. Inside Out (2015, Docter)
5. The Incredibles (2004, Bird)
6. Monsters, Inc. (2001, Docter)
7. Finding Dory (2016, Stanton/MacLane)
8. Toy Story 2 (1999, Lasseter)
9. Up (2009, Docter)
10. A Bug's Life (1998, Lasseter)

 

 

2012 Yearly Wrap

 The Film Directors issue, including John Huston, Scott # 4671

The Pixar issue, including Finding Nemo, Scott # 4679.  Aquarium stamp is # 2866.

Jose Ferrer, Scott # 4666, here with Humphrey Bogart, Scott # 3152

 Choreographers issue, including Bob Fosse, Scott # 4701

Edgar Rice Burroughs, Scott # 4702

Earthscapes issue, including Highway Interchange, Scott # 4710o

Baseball All-Stars issue, including Joe Dimaggio, Scott # 4697, here with Marilyn Monroe, # 2967

Overkill

Now here’s an example of the bad postmark being 100% my fault.  You may remember the Toy Story card I had discussed earlier.  I really loved this assembly, since the Gene Autry stamp and the earlier science fiction stamp matched Woody and Buzz Lightyear perfectly.

I was incredibly surprised when the USPS issued two sets of Pixar stamps, though.  And when the first set came out with a set of 5 that included Buzz but not Woody, I knew Woody would be in the subsequent year’s issue.  So, now was an opportunity to get both on the face of the postcard, too!

Big Mistake.  As you can see, what was previously a wonderful looking postcard now is now an ugly, cluttered mess.  Part of the reason is the trend of the USPS of having their illustrated postmarks be much wider and denser with the ink.  

But the larger failing was mine.  The card would’ve been much better with the two separate Pixar cancellations on the back of the card, but the thought of having them both on the front was too irresistible, and what resulted in the long run is a big old garbled mess.  You can still make the images out, but the impact of the first combo of stamps is now mostly lost.

Here’s an example of one issue that I did right.

When the Quilts of Gee’s Bend issue came out, this stamp worked uncannily well.  Using it was a no-brainer.  So when Sinatra came out two years later, where should I put it?  Logic dictated the front but I couldn’t think of anywhere it could go without losing the effect from the previous stamp.  So I did this instead:

Putting the Sinatra stamp on the back meant I could add the drug abuse stamp without it cluttering things up further (Otto Preminger’s 1955 film was one of the first major Hollywood productions to deal with the subject).  Later, when the Jazz stamp came out, I added it to the reverse, too.  
 
I’ve made other similar judgment calls on both sides, but while I’m glad I have a scan of what it looked like before, the Toy Story example is the one I still regret the most.  

Buzz and Woody are Scott #s  4555 and 4680 respectively.  Sinatra is Scott # 4265, the Prevent Drug Abuse stamp is # 1428, and the Jazz stamp # 4503.

2011 Yearly Wrap

Gregory Peck, Scott # 4526

Pixar issue, including WALL-E, Scott # 4557

Jazz, Scott # 4503, here with Bing Crosby, #2850

Plastics

Toy Story 3 is a triumph.

I, for one, had my reservations.  While I feel the original is about as good as animated films get, I’m one of those people out there who didn’t actually care for the second film very much.  Pixar has prided itself as a brand known for original thinking, but Toy Story 2 seemed larded with the easy type of meta-humor (Star Wars reference? Check; Star Trek reference? Check; etc.) which dates quickly and pulls me out of the film.  The movie has one show-stopper—the heartbreaking “When She Loved Me” flashback song—and plenty of funny energy, but the pervasive resorting to topical gags seemed more in the spirit of Family Guy (and that is not a compliment).

But Toy Story 3 plumbs emotional depths I wasn’t expecting, especially exploring the darker recesses of rejection, resentment, and petty tyrannies that resonate far beyond the playground politics of childhood.  Plus, the film has the courage of its convictions, taking us to the brink of a truly apocalyptic ending that is both terrifying and profoundly moving, while also providing us with one of the best deus ex machinas in recent memory, earning its stripes and never, ever feeling like a cheat.

But the one thing to which I’ve never been able to relate in these films is the emotional attachment Andy has to his toys.  They are not only springboards for his imagination; they are also his Friends, virtual proxies for a social life.  We see through the series the extent to which he personalizes that connection, having his toys as constant companions in his childhood, and caring about their fate practically into adulthood.

I guess that’s what I don’t get.  My toys were just my toys.  They weren’t confidantes, or buddies, or security blankets.  I didn’t invest them with larger personalities, didn’t attach emotional significance to them.  Did anyone?  I honestly don’t know.  I didn’t have a bad childhood by a long shot, but I did have a fairly isolated one.  I didn’t have many friends, rarely went to other people’s houses or got invited places, so I honestly don’t have a frame of reference on what other kids or families did.  My Dad was loving but logical.  An engineer, so empirical.  I never believed in Santa, never had a fantasy life indulged or a creative streak nurtured.

When my mom moved up to the Bay Area, selling the house we grew up in and Dad died in, she had an estate sale, which included all the stuff in my room, from my childhood.  Walking down memory lane that one last time, poring through artifacts, was fascinating but rarely sentimental.  Growing up, for me, was about ostracization, frustrated opportunities, and a singular awareness of how alone I was in the world.  

That’s why movies that are fueled by nostalgia, like Stand By Me or American Graffiti, do very little for me.  Because when it comes to that period of my life, I never look back with fondness or warmth.  It was just passing time until my Life could really start.  And maybe, in that sense, I’m not unusual either.  I just don’t know.

So for me, the first Toy Story (Lasseter, 1995) remains the best, because it doesn’t obsess about that relationship the way the other two films do.  That film is about self-actualization, coming to terms with who or what you are, on your own and in the community to which you’re tied.  It’s that sense of community that carries through all three films and serves as the vital backbone to the series (helped by a marvelous cast). 

As for the estate sale, I did sort through all my toys.  I don’t have any children (and likely never will), but I have two nephews, and I passed on a number of my old toys to them—not because I felt the toys deserved to be played with, but because I thought Josh and Caleb might get a lot of mileage out of them.  That’s the relationship I understand.

OK, maybe a few of the Star Wars action figures I kept.  As collectibles, you know.

Gene Autry (Scott # 4449)was part of the Cowboys of the Silver Screen series, while the flying spacemen (Scott # 2473) was part of a science fiction issue.  Yoda (Scott # 4205) was its own release, separate from the Star Wars issue earlier the same year, which included Boba Fett (Scott # 4143j)

Ask the Filmatelist - Part I

For our first installment of a (hopefully) recurring feature, Ask The Filmatelist, we go to my friend Brian, who’s the host of, IMHO, the Best Bay Area Movie Blog around:

One question from a stamp ignoramus: why did you use three stamps for the "Fargo" postcard, instead of all four, or just one?

A good question, though I should address the “ignoramus” comment first—Believe me, I may be The Filmatelist, but my hobbying is truly Amateur Hour. I attend Westpex every year (more on that in a future post), and as much as I enjoy assembling this material, it is really just dabbling compared to what the old school philatelists commit themselves to. So I can’t speak as anything other than a stamp collecting fan, as opposed to a hardline purist in the field.
The conventional wisdom suggests that you’re probably right—it certainly seems to make more sense, particularly from an investment standpoint, to include all four stamps of the holiday issue together. There are a couple different reasons why I chose not to.
From an aesthetic standpoint, I didn’t want to include the fourth stamp (a knit snowman), because not only did the color of the stamp not quite balance with the colors of the postcard and the other three stamps, but also because I thought having stamps four-across would end up looking a little cluttered. As you’ll see in future posts, sometimes the sheer volume of stamps appropriate for a postcard trumps appearance or compositional concerns, but in this case, I thought it would look better without the fourth.
Another consideration, though, was that I had another use for that snowman stamp:


This is a postcard still from the Pixar short Knick-Knack (Lasseter, 1989), about a snowman trying to escape the snowglobe in which he’s encased. It’s probably my favorite of all the Pixar shorts, with a charming a cappella score by Bobby McFerrin, and I thought the snowman stamp would work better here. Although my emphasis has always been collecting the one-sheet movie advert postcards, I also occasionally will seek out other film-related postcards if I know I’ll be able to use them with an upcoming issue.
Similarly, if there’s a multi-stamp release that has some stamps I know I want to use, then I’ll make a concerted effort to find enough different postcards so I can use all the stamps from that issue—even ones that might not seem as obvious a candidate. Since my last post introduced both the Muppet and Marvel Comic stamp releases, here are two more one-sheets that use other stamps from those same issues:

Probably the most frustrating part of this hobby is knowing the perfect movie to match with a stamp, but not having the postcard for that film. That’s why having National Lampoon’s Animal House (Landis, 1978) was a particularly happy accident, Animal being my second favorite muppet as it is (just ahead of Beaker and behind the Swedish Chef).
Spider Woman’s inclusion in the Marvel Comics issue reeked of quota pandering (Spider Woman? over Thor? Daredevil?) But there was one unlikely film that she was perfect for: Kiss of the Spider Woman (Babenco, 1985). This postcard is actually a German one-sheet for the film. I would estimate maybe 10-15% of the postcards I have for American films are movie adverts from foreign countries, quite a few purchased in my international travels, though a majority still from American postcard companies licensing the images for domestic sale.

Hope that clarified things, and thanks for the question, Brian! To Ask The Filmatelist, you can e-mail me (Filmatelist@gmail.com) or just post your question in the comments field. See you soon…