What is an IV? As an adult, I know what an IV does, and I have a vague idea of what goes into putting it in your arm. However, as a child, the concept of having an IV inserted into my arm would’ve scared me silly. This is where illustrated books such as What’s An IV? is an illustrated book intended for elementary school-aged children who need to have an IV put into their arm. It’s approachable and has the potential to put kids at ease about the process, at least as much as they can be.
There is room in science for abject, over-the-top silliness. Young audiences, the kinds that embrace illustrated books like a cat to a laser pointer need the silly, but sometimes yearn for the science. Dinosaurs In Space hammers into that void with the subtlety of your neighbor’s use of the leaf blower at 7:30 on Saturday morning. This is an illustrated book that asks a question without directly posing it, allows kids to imagine the impossible, but tells them that it just might be probable. It breaks the fourth wall, weaves in non-fiction STEM, makes readers laugh and achieves the very difficult task of making a page-turner book for the illustrated audience.
There’s a two-page spread in My Dear Sea that perfectly encapsulates the imagination of a child and how they see things. It’s just halfway through the book and shows a young girl running on the shore parallel to the sea. There are outcrops of sand dunes that poke out from the sea, towering above her, set against an impossibly ocean that’s a black as a thousand midnights at the bottom; but becomes that gorgeous light azul you only see in the Caribbean or near Lake Ohrid. The disparate chasm between shallow and deep probably doesn’t occur quickly, but kids imagine it to be that deep. My Dear Sea is an illustrated book about a young girl’s conversation with the sea, how she imagines it appear in its depths and the creatures that live there in her mind’s eye.
Oh to be young, carefree and to enjoy things without being judged. Pablo and Splash: Frozen In Time take me away. This is a graphic novel whose core audience will know when it’s speaking to them and precisely when it’s not. It’s that narrow group of students in middle-elementary school who like to look at early reader graphic novels because of the illustrations, say they don’t like to read, but secretly don’t mind it if they’re left to their own devices. The go-to graphic novel in this class is commonly known as Dog Man, but Investigators is funnier (and has a wider audience), plus there many other examples that cross over into this Venn diagram.
Return of the Jedi had this problem. Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga has this problem too. How do you follow up a perfect movie? Paddington 2 is a perfect movie. For a long time it had a 100% score on Rotten Tomatoes, received the ultimate pop culture shout out in The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent and remains one of our favorite films. However, as an intellectual property, Paddington has the potential to tell many stories and movie theaters still need quality programming, so Paddington 3 was an eventuality. This is where we need to be reminded of the phrase, “Don’t let perfect be the enemy of (very) good”. Rest easy marmalade-loving people, Paddington 3: Lost in Peru is very good.
It is a children’s movie, but it satisfies that description in the same way “Finally It’s Christmas” by Hanson is a Christmas song. In brief, The Christmas Song test is where said song reaches far beyond its intended time frame or audience to where it can be enjoyed regardless of when or who experiences it. As if to test this very unofficial theorem I just listened to that Christmas song by Hanson, as well as, others from that same album and was immensely entertained. If you haven’t heard that song before, stop reading for a moment and enjoy this sonic delicacy.
Paddington 3 is very good. In today’s hyperbolic quest for adjectives and review sites tripping over themselves for the perfect way to describe something for clicks and eyeballs, it can get overwhelming. Paddington 3 is beary good is a way to say it, but then some readers would think that the intention was to say ‘bearly good’, which is not what the title is meant to infer. And why say it’s very good? Isn’t great better than very good?
You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve been teaching high school ELA for the past two weeks. Their ability to make up excuses, feign ignorance or otherwise concoct a reason for not committing to something is infectious. So to them, in addition to anyone else who just needs to unplug-but still be entertained, and do so in a family-friendly manner that’s still able to hold the attention of surly middle and high school students, check out Paddington 3.
Hold on, high school students will enjoy Paddington 3? Caveat: our high school and middle school student enjoyed Paddington 3. It could be because they have fond memories of us going to see Paddington and Paddington 2, which we’ve told them umpteen million times is one of the best movies ever. Who knows. They left their cell phones in the car, went into the movie theater with mom and dad and said that they enjoyed it. Paddington 3 for the win.
The story revolves around Paddington’s aunt disappearing from the retired bear home in Peru. Paddington convinces the Brown family to go there and help him rescue her from the trouble that he knows she’s in. Along the way they meet up with Antonio Banderas, a riverboat captain who knows the location of this supposed place where Lucy had a clue, but is also rife with rumors about an ancient treasure.
See, it’s a children’s movie, but let’s channel it through the timeless memories of family vacations. The teens in the movie start out typical enough being sullen or seemingly too eager to leave the family house in order to go to university. They encounter a quirky, albeit more handsome and charismatic than-average-man, who helps make their vacation unforgettable. Their younger brother makes several mistakes, but doesn’t do so in a jerky or self-centered manner. The entire family bonds over their comical adventures and is stronger at the end of it. The end credit scenes also reward viewers with a snippet of the main heel from Paddington 2 that reminds us why the series is so beloved.
Paddington 3 is a family movie. It’s not a children’s movie because it’s smarter than what you expect when something is described as “a children’s movie.” It also doesn’t have the same crossover as one of the Pixar movies that you might think it’s in league with. This requires more patience and doesn’t have the same madcap humor traditional upper-elementary ages are accustomed to. That is a good thing. Again, it’s not a great thing, it’s a good thing.
Is it better to have a joke that resonates with a majority of the crowd, but isn’t that clever, or a very sublime joke that is very clever, but isn’t caught by a majority of the audience? In a way, this is an unfair and incorrect comparession to Paddington 3 because it will connect with audiences. It’s so well made that, as a parent you want people to take away the joy and the fun that the film provides. As the fake-out ending of the film was happening I thought to myself how many great stories Paddington could tell. To end the movies on a trilogy, just because that’s the way movies are done, would be unfortunate for younger audiences to come.
If you have children aged eight to 12, Paddington 3 is for you, see it in theaters. If you have a family that likes to have fun and doesn’t place bookmarks on its packaging, you’ll enjoy it. It’s unfair to compare it to its predecessor, and even when looked at as an individual movie, Paddington 3 is enjoyable and reminds us about how good a family can be.
Paddington 3 is rated PG for age-appropriate danger and thrills.
It’s easy to misinterpret a book; these are interesting times aren’t they? Bad Badger: A Love Story is the sort of emerging reader chapter book that has the potential to be loved, but can also struggle to find its people. At its core, Bad Badger is a sweet story about friendship, but tells the story through a very smart lens with a bigger vocabulary and a more mature, nuanced setting that will reward those who have the patience for it.
When I teach middle school or high school I sometimes use the phrase “I don’t care” to reply to some students who are making excuses for them or someone else. They don’t speak. I/They never do their work. I/they am not/aren’t smart. After the student is done watering down my expectations I’ll tell them that “I don’t care…about that unrelated issue they were trying to distract me with and that they are capable of doing the simple, age-appropriate task that I’ve asked them to do. There are some students who get momentarily put-off by what they deem as a rude comment, but then they’ll think about it and hopefully internalize that they need to raise the bar of what they can do. The Girl Who Figured It Out got that message, albeit in a kinder, elementary-age package with colorful illustrations and a can-do message about overcoming obstacles that life throws your way.
Why should students care about the life story about a woman who lived more than a century ago and studied birds? Gene Stratton-Porter is well-known in ornithology, but outside of that arena you probably haven’t heard of her. This is one of the things about well-made illustrated books that make the genre so much more than it appears to be. Bird Girl: Gene Stratton-Porter Shares Her Love of Nature with the World doesn’t break any new ground in regards to the story, even though it’s one young audiences don’t know. At it’s core, the book is about finding your way and exploring what you love. Instead, this is a great book because of the unknown variable (Gene Stratton-Porter) and the illustrations by Rebecca Gibbon that are used to tell her life story.
Copy Protected by Chetan's WP-Copyprotect.
Facebook
Twitter
Flickr
GooglePlus
Youtube