Movie Review Monday: "How to Train Your Dragon"

After a brief hiatus, I'm starting up my regular blog posts. Here's a review of a fairly recent flick (one of my personal favorites!). Enjoy.

Movie Review: “How to Train Your Dragon”

Runtime: 98 minutes

Rating: PG

Year: 2010

Directed in part by both Dean DeBlois (writer for “Mulan” 1998 and “Lilo & Stitch” 2002) and Chris Sanders (writer for “Beauty and the Beast” 1991 and “The Lion King” 1994), this family feature team creates another masterpiece for theater and home. Of course, it helps when the material is basically already written: British author Cressida Cowell’s book makes a wonderful screenplay.

Jay Baruchel (“Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian” 2009) voices Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, the film’s misfit protagonist. Hiccup’s father, Stoic the Vast is Gerard Butler (Gerry in “P.S. I Love You” 2007), and television star America Ferrera, known as “Ugly Betty” (2006) to many, tries her hand at bringing an animated Viking girl to life.

Hiccup narrates the beginning of the film, describing his island home. Viking tradition dictates that only the strong survive, and much of the Viking tradition is based on slaughtering marauding dragons. Despite his father’s clan headsman status, Hiccup is an outcast, a misfit weakling more apt to using his brains than his brawn to solve problems.

In one particular attempt to show his value to the clan, Hiccup manages to bring down a legendary Nightfury—a rare dragon that no clansman can even physically describe—while no one is watching. When faced with killing the downed dragon, Hiccup cannot do it. Instead he befriends the “killer” creature, helping it to fly again. This friendship leads to many surprises about the dragons haunting their village and a possible solution for dragon and Viking alike.

The graphics in the film are amazing, particularly any scene shot in the air. “Shooting” typically refers to live-action films, but the details in the animation make the flight scenes vivid and completely lifelike. Viewing the film once again in high-definition, viewers might even notice a subtle fuzz of stubble on Hiccup’s adolescent face or individual hairs on a Viking’s animal-skin vest stirring in a slight breeze.

Some other delightful aspects of this film include the portrayal of the dreaded Nightfury dragon—its mannerisms are quite catlike and therefore familiar, helping audiences connect with the strange creature. With so many films produced today, directors might feel the need to add a dramatic edge by killing off key characters. Viewers will be delighted to see (spoiler alert!) no one important dies.

Better yet, to offset the sugary-sweet happy ending where nothing goes wrong, Hiccup does undergo some trauma, further demonstrating the strength of his character. This is great for young viewers especially—they learn that bad things may happen in life, but those challenges can be overcome.

This is an excellent film and should be rented, borrowed from friends or purchased for the next family night activity. As British author G.K. Chesterton says: “Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.” Or, in Hiccup’s case, befriended!

Tree Hugging

"Happy Feet" is one of the worst animated films of our day. That movie was horrible, full of left-wing propaganda and should not have been targeted toward children! Don't get me wrong, I am a firm believer in utilizing our resources wisely. We are stewards of the earth, after all, and where conserving, recycling and reusing makes sense, we ought to participate. But that film and others like it goes too far, making fun of organized religion, showing young children how animals in captivity can start to lose their minds if not properly cared for--in short, it was completely inappropriate for young audiences.


I am all for kindness towards animals and stopping abuse when possible. The animal cop television shows often reveal animal hoarders to be mentally disturbed individuals, people in dire need of companionship and therapy. The presence of these abused animals point toward bigger issues, and both owner and pet are rescued. When adopted and cared for properly, animals can provide much-needed companionship, they can teach responsibility and they can even perform vital services, such as guarding, sniffing out drugs or assisting the disabled. But when you ask me to donate my hard-earned money toward saving animals from hunger and abuse when there are just as many hungry and abused children out there, I start to have a problem. Animals are not more important than humans.

The resources put on this earth are meant to be used. Animals are meant to be eaten, to provide food and sustenance for us. I don't like to hear about cows or chickens being killed with unnecessary violence, but I'm also not going to go on strike and no longer eat what they produce. That's not the natural order of things right now. 

It's like the vast oil reserves in Alaska that the US government refuses to touch. All the politicians say to us is that the pipeline would look ugly, marring the natural beauty around it. Look ugly to who? The moose and bears? As long as it doesn't leak, it shouldn't matter. Heck, I'm sure they could paint the pipe white to blend in with the snow. Of course, whenever oil is harvested, there is always the risk of a spill, but I don't think that risk should matter more than gaining economic independence from the oil-rich Middle-eastern countries. In this case, preserving a vast, icy and otherwise unused portion of land is conserving to the point of ridiculousness, and I have a strong feeling that this "green" argument is just a smokescreen. Politicians could care less about the ugly pipeline; someone doesn't want us to gain oil independence.


Whenever I see a company boasting a new "green" achievement, I don't think, "Oh, how nice, they're concerned about the planet." I see it as, "Oh, how smart, they're saving money. That might save me a few bucks in the end, too." Different kind of green. It's a good thing conserving saves money or we wouldn't have quite so many participants. As it is, places like Idaho don't have very many recycling programs because it costs more money to establish a recycling program than it does to just keep dumping everything into a landfill. Having grown up in California, it still feels strange to just chuck an empty can or plastic jug into the garbage, even after living in Idaho for six years.


When I went on my school's British Literary Tour in 2007, I hadn't heard about the green grocery store movement. In Ireland, you can't find a plastic grocery sack to save your life. Everyone brings their own bags or they can purchase a reusable one at the store. It makes sense for a country as small as Ireland to be so vested in that program, but it was quite new to me. Since then, I have seen all sorts of stores move in that direction, including--surprisingly--a small local Idaho grocery store chain. Pretty soon all dog owners will have to purchase their doggy poop bags instead of just reusing grocery store bags.

I love the natural beauty in our world, and I want to do my part to care for it. Extremism is just not the right way to go about it. Wood from companies who plant new trees as they go, bamboo flooring or furniture, reusable grocery sacks and CFL light bulbs (the twisty ones that last for a very long time) are all things I am willing to purchase, if those materials are reasonably available. Spending my money wisely is also part of my stewardship, and if I can't afford those specialized items, I won't beat myself up. Balance in all things!

Self-Help

Sometimes when I am bored I peruse the Yahoo Answers page, looking for questions I can possibly answer. My responses are often picked as "best answer" by readers and by the actual question writer. It makes me wonder if I would be a good advice columnist. However, I have noticed a trend in people's problems, at least the ones I felt remotely competent to answer. 

For all the depressed people who ask why they are so depressed, I have a few standard answers, even for the ones who claim to have clinical depression and that their medication just doesn't cut it. The first thing I mention is everything physical. Get regular sleep, at the same time every day and for enough hours a day. Exercise daily, because working out makes you feel better and helps your sleep to be higher quality. 

Then I go on to suggest they start some sort of regular volunteer work, according to their interests. If they like animals, then they should volunteer at an animal shelter. If they like people, then an old folks' home; if they like reading or children, then work at the local library reading to underprivileged kids. Taking the focus off your own problems helps your issues not seem so big anymore.

I then tell them to not give up on it because it might take a few weeks or even months before they see any real difference in their lives. Finally, I mention religion, since religion can give us purpose for our lives, and I suggest they take a look at mormon.org. It might be a cowardly way to share the Gospel since everything is anonymous when I write these replies, but maybe religion would never occur to these people otherwise.

Another typical question is what teenage girls should do if they're pregnant. I strongly urge them to give up the baby for adoption, making it sound heroic to do so, since the world has started revering single mothers. It's one thing if the husband dies or runs out on the family--those mothers don't have any choice in the matter. It's another thing entirely to purposely choose to raise children in such a disadvantaged manner. I tell them it will take courage, but there are social workers who can help guide them in their decisions.

I once gave some advice to an angry-sounding husband, who was probably just looking for justification to leave his wife. I suggested some good communication skills he could learn, the idea that forgiveness is vital in any relationship, and that he should give his wife the benefit of the doubt. That reply was not chosen as "best answer;" I probably said a few things he really did not want to hear.

Anyway, I wrote this post after reading an article about how most self-help books are worthless. One book the article mentioned that is actually worth reading is Stephen Covey's "7 Habits of Highly Effective People." The reason books like this actually work is because they don't promise fast, easy results and focus on the basics of good human behavior (honesty, thrift, self-control). 

Change isn't supposed to be easy, especially when it comes to one's behavior. Hopefully the few bits of advice floating out there in cyberspace give the impression that to be happy takes time. It's a choice, an active process, and it takes time to see results.

Growing Up

It is still hard to believe I have a son, a son who is turning two years old this month. I have always thought about someday having a family of my own, but I never actually visualized these early years. I was never interested in children growing up, aside from my then peers. I'm still not entirely comfortable with kids, but I have learned a few skills that, in a pinch, make me a perfectly competent babysitter. I can change a diaper, I can figure out what food is appropriate to feed a kid at that age, and I can tell when a baby is so tired that nothing will fix it except time.

I remember my son's shaky entrance to this world--everyone was concerned how he would do since he was seven weeks early. Everybody released a collective sigh as my little one let out his first cry. They cleaned him up, wrapped him up, and I saw the little creature that had been living inside me for so long. It was a strange moment. I didn't know what to feel or even how I felt, but it didn't take me long to want to see him again. He was so tiny, and I wanted to know more about him.


He was sent to the NICU, while various tests were performed and he was poked and prodded and placed in an incubator. The real test was having to leave him at the hospital a day later; I was absolutely overcome with emotion, a rare sensation for such a logical me. He stayed in the hospital for over two weeks, and I visited as often as I could. It still meant he would be alone for the entire night, with only a nurse to keep watch. 

He looked so small in the incubator, with a feeding tube coming out of his nose and various monitor wires leading off of him. He even had to wear shades of a sort, for all the time he spent under the special jaundice light. But the day soon came when he was declared thriving and perfectly healthy for home life. It was another strange moment, walking out of that little room I had come to know so well in those few weeks for the last time. It was a graduation of sorts.


I remember his first bath, in a little pink plastic tub at the hospital, carefully keeping the umbilical cord stump dry. He was not happy about all the watery nonsense, and I was afraid of dropping him. His subsequent baths were much easier, and now he loves them, will even come running if he hears the water running in the tub.


I have kept a journal, writing down all the major milestones, like his first smile, first laugh, first time sitting up or rolling over. Sometimes I include his favorite foods or something he did that I never knew babies did at all.


I also remember the sleep deprivation, and later having him fall asleep on my chest while we rocked away the small hours of the night. My mom's cousin mused one day as we were visiting how special those quiet dark hours were and how much she missed them, and at the time I completely disagreed with her. I remember thinking to myself that I would never miss those times. There was utter elation the first night he slept for a full five hours straight, and a small pit of pain in my chest as I began to realize he was needing me less, that maybe there was truth in what my mom's cousin had said. I never thought I would miss my baby being a baby.

I remember the fear that came once he did sleep through the night, the irrational yet quite normal fear that he would die during the night from SIDs. I would have to get out of bed just to double check he was still breathing and I would rush to his crib first thing in the morning. I still have that vague fear, that for some reason he will be taken back to heaven in the night, having fulfilled his mission here on earth. I still pray that God will let me keep him, just a little while longer, because I love him so. It might seem silly or paranoid, but that is what rests in my heart of hearts.

I am glad for this season in my life, when I am supposed to have children. So many girls get into trouble, pregnant out of wedlock, and end up falling in love with their baby. It is natural and good for mothers to love their children, but that same connection can distort a single mother's view, making it hard for her to see just how much she is depriving that child by not giving it up for adoption to a stable, married couple. I am one of the fortunate ones who had a baby at the right season in life (while married), and I am grateful, despite the challenges that come from having kids before financial stability is achieved.

Children really do change absolutely everything. And as my baby has grown, I think I've grown up, too. 




 

A Working Title

In a previous post, I mused over what I would do with a million dollars. What I neglected to mention was what I would do for work after that. I couldn't handle life without some sort of regular, working schedule (it's boring enough right now, with only one kid to care for). There is my dream job, but there are other jobs that I am curious about and would like to do at some point in my life.


My dream job, after much consideration and many years of schooling, would be a cross between book editor, publisher and author. I don't necessarily like the formal editing process that happens in professional environments like journalism; I prefer the teaching style, where I can sit down with the writer and discuss their work with them. For me it's about helping someone with their thought process. Writing is just a means of communication, and if you can carry on a conversation you can write. Publishers get to read books and are paid for their time, even if the book is awful and would never be published, and I would also want time to write my own stuff.

Another place that I've always wanted to work is a bookstore. Of course that would come with one major drawback: I would want to spend my entire paycheck there! Unfortunately, with two major bookstore chains closing in my town within six months of each other (Barnes & Noble and Borders), I might not get the chance. With everything online these days, easy ordering, free shipping and major discounts, any bookstore still open is basically a money pit. Used book stores might be able to hold out a bit longer, we'll see. 

Not to mention the huge e-book craze that's hit the world. I understand that an electronic book is a lot cheaper than a paper copy, but I am old-school and prefer to turn a book's pages and smell that glue binding. There is just something charming about a book that has seen many hands; books used to be the only reliable way we could pass on our history. What happens when the earth's magnetic poles shift and all our electronics are dead? What will happen to our history then? Sure, that's a worst-case scenario, but it could happen. We still need our paper books. In the end, though, I will probably have to be a millionaire before I can work in a bookstore--then it wouldn't matter if the store's a money pit.


I have also thought about working in a flower shop. I love flowers (and don't say it's just a girl thing! Isn't farming, another profession all about plants, primarily a male profession?) I have an artistic, crafty side and I would have a lot of fun arranging bouquets. When I worked at a nursery, we would often cut flowers from our stock and make mini arrangements to brighten up the cash registers. Some people say why waste money on live flowers when they shrivel up in less than a week, but I can't stand artificial flowers. They get dusty, for heaven's sake. A little living plant can really brighten up a space, especially if they smell nice like gardenias. (Did you know there are flowers out there that actually smell like chocolate? The chocolate cosmos!)


One problem with the last two professions I mentioned is that unless I owned the shop, I'd have to deal with unruly customers according to the store policy and be subject to a boss or manager's whims. Unless they are very nice and unusually pleasant to work with, it would be best to own my own shop. But again, we're talking ideal situations here; if I were to own a business I'd have to spend a lot of time learning about actually running a business.


A job I have enjoyed before and wouldn't mind doing again later in life is reviewing movies. I get to see a movie for free with one or two guests, before it is released to the general public, then I get to say what I liked or didn't like and get paid to write it all down.

Anyway, it's nice to dream sometimes. I have many more years of living to do; who's to say I won't get to do at least one of these jobs?