Won't You Be My Neighbor?

This year's WON'T YOU BE MY NEIGHBOR? makes some striking comparisons between the calm, edifying Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood and most other children's fare of past and present, frequently characterized by seizure inducing color flashes and violent acts.  What really struck me during this film was the realization that I grew up as an avid watcher of both.  Does that explain a few things?  I'll leave the self-analysis for another time.  Was my young psyche conflicted by the competing messages of acceptance, unconditional love, and a realistic outlook on a big, scary world versus chaotic, loud, and nonsensical images of repeated destruction?  I guess I'm a product of both messages.

Fred Rogers spoke out against what he saw on television, what passed for children's programming.  He quickly realized impressionable souls were being bred to have short attention spans and gullibility for advertisers' gimmicks.  The beloved T.V. personality and Presbyterian minister saw the medium as a powerful tool for teaching viewers about other cultures (many within in our own neighborhoods), not merely a portal through which to see clowns get pies in their faces.  He put seminary on hold to start his own local Public Television show, utilizing his skills as a puppeteer.

The long running Neighborhood began some years later, always with the patented opening of Mr. Rogers putting on a sweater and changing into sneakers.  Feeding his fish.  The show was not a fast paced assault with silly cartoons and quick cuts.  The famous puppets were perfect vessels to demonstrate human foibles and insecurities, things not limited to viewers' parents.  Mr. Rogers never shied away from difficult topics like divorce and death.  But always in a reassuring (yet never patronizing) fashion.  Did any T.V. personality have more respect for children than Fred Rogers?

WON'T YOU BE MY NEIGHBOR? follows the standard documentary format of talking heads reminiscing and collages of old photos and video clips (including a Congressional hearing in the late '60s during which Rogers successfully saved funding for PBS).  There are recollections from Rogers' family and co-workers.  A recurring animation of a timid tiger (modeled after Rogers' signature puppet and alter ego, Daniel) that is surprisingly effective and appropriate to the discussion of the moment.  The subject is so compelling, genuine, and wonderful that thoughts of cinematic technique are all but forgotten.  Director Morgan Neville guides things tastefully and unobtrusively, yet refreshingly allows for some glimpses at backstage pranks (one slightly bawdy) and some of the famous Mr. Rogers parodies.  The man did enjoy a good laugh, too.   The doc is a nicely understated summary of one of my childhood heroes, a man who actually listened to children (and adults), rather than try to overstimulate them.

I teared up several times for several reasons. That cynical Gen Xer pushing fifty was reminded that he indeed had a heart.   Part of the tears came from a recognizance that my own childhood is long gone.  Also, seeing Rogers patiently interact with wide eyed, sometimes terrified kids (weren't we all at some point?).  The black and white clip of Daniel the Tiger's song, questioning if he was merely a mistake in the world was almost unbearably sad.  I also wept in relation to the observance of what a true Christian (like Mr. Rogers) should be: transparent, meek yet forthright when necessary,  selfless, accepting, non-judgmental, righteous but never self righteous, and yes, childlike.  Where many of us fail daily.  In these bleak days of divisiveness (and there is a clip from Fox News in this movie that made my blood boil) and moral bankruptcy from our leaders and media giants, we need a Fred Rogers more than ever.   143.