Robert Zemeckis presents a new take on the holiday classic, A Christmas Carol. Photo courtesy of ImageMovers Digital LLC.

Grade: B
Bottom Line: A Christmas Carol is full of 3D family fun and visual mastery, but falls short of offering any insights into the classic tale not already addressed by cinematic predecessors.

If you grew up in the 90s, your family probably already has a favorite version of A Christmas Carol on VHS (and it is probably in ribbons following one or two decade’s-worth of viewing during the holiday season). Of over 20 versions made for both the big screen and TV, some notables include:

• 1984’s made-for-TV version starring George C. Scott (Dr. Strangelove)
• 1992’s A Muppet Christmas Carol starring Michael Caine (The Dark Knight)
• 1997’s animated rendition with Tim Curry (Rocky Horror Picture Show), Whoopi Goldberg (Sister Act), and Ed Asner (Up)

This list means two things: First, Disney has to work really hard to develop a piece that can be deemed groundbreaking in light of so many predecessors. Two, if you already have a favorite movie version of the holiday classic, A Christmas Carol would have to be really great to unseat a family tradition.

But A Christmas Carol isn’t earth-shattering. In all actuality, it’s pretty safe. It briefly touches on issues that could feasibly expand Scrooge’s humanity — his abusive father, his spurned love-interest Belle — but glazes over these subplots just as soon as they are introduced. There is no opportunity to feel for Scrooge, no opportunity to cry for lost love, and, in turn, little reason to rejoice at his rebirth.

The concept behind Jim Carrey voicing all the ghosts as well as Scrooge is intriguing — the idea being that the ghosts, part of an elaborate nightmare, are extensions of Scrooge’s personality — and Carrey is indeed an impressive voice actor. But no one actor can provide the character range that a handful of actors can, and by the time The Ghost of Christmas Present rolls around, you’ll be ready for a change of pace.

All that being said, A Christmas Carol is visually stunning, with absurd attention paid to detail. For better or worse, 3D seems to drive the plot as much as it enhances it, acting as a stimulus for an exciting chase scene and making The (pretty damn frightening) Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come much more physical and forceful than has previously been seen.

A Christmas Carol is not a bad movie, but Disney has set the bar pretty high for itself with 3D epic Up and crowd favorite WALL-E. It’s own A Muppet Christmas Carol is a holiday classic in its own right. As an entire package this movie just doesn’t do anything fantastic like these others.

But expecting every movie to be a home run is unfair. This movie does justice to the story, and the 3D aspects are fun and engaging. If you don’t already have a favorite rendition of this timeless Christmas classic, there’s no reason this movie can’t fill the hole.

Q&A with director Robert Zemeckis

Robert Zemeckis (Beowulf, The Polar Express, Matchstick Men, Cast Away, Back to the Future) has been a writer, director and producer for nearly four decades of movies. Today his 3D adaptation of the classic A Christmas Carol opens in theaters. North by Northwestern joined in on a conference call with Zemeckis to discuss the movie.

A Christmas Carol is a timeless story. How do you balance the dual problem of adhering to a traditional story but at the same time, creating a piece that is fresh, new and exciting?

That was the challenge, and that was the reason that we did it. We just attacked that problem head-on and said “Okay, we are going to be extremely true to the underlying material, we’re not going to tinker with it too much,” although we do a little bit — we provide some action at the end to get Scrooge from place to place. The fact is that it is a timeless story is rooted in Scrooge’s character and his story of redemption. The other thing that I did which made everybody in the studio very nervous, but I don’t think it could have worked any other possible way, I have everyone speaking in the language of the time — the way Dickens wrote it — which I think is beautiful. And we basically kept the tone that Dickens wrote in the original piece.

Is there any element of this Dickens story that you feel has been overlooked by past filmmakers that is highlighted in your version of the story?

For some reason, past versions of the story have not delved into the idea that Dickens had great tension and great suspense in the story, the way he wrote it, and that seems to be watered down in all these other versions. That feeling of foreboding, that feeling of dread that you have in the first half of that story has been missing a lot. Scrooge basically has this wild nightmare — I really feel very strongly that you have to have the dark before you have the light. Another thing that’s amazing about Dickens that I hadn’t realized before, is how cinematic he wrote — he wrote very filmicly 100 years before the invention of movies — he writes in scenes.

How do you see the 3D aspect of the film as aiding in the telling of the story?

From an emotional standpoint, the 3D is a storytelling element just like the music is. You have the underlying intellectual material that is what Mr. Dickens wrote, and you embellish it with performance and you embellish it with music and you embellish it with color and now you embellish it with immersive 3D image. So what that does for the audience, it gives them another emotional handle on the story, it presents it in an emotional way. We immerse the audience in Dickensian London.

Lyn Cassidy (Clooney) stares at goats in an attempt to hone psychic abilities. Photo courtesy of Overture Films.

Grade: B
Bottom Line: The Men Who Stare at Goats lacks an identity. Comedy? Tragedy? Who’s to guess? Critical of New Age culture or military culture? There’s no way to know, but it’s kind of funny sometimes.

If you saw the trailer for The Men Who Stare at Goats, you are probably expecting a comedy filled with one-liners and slapstick courtesy of a blundering Jeff Bridges and a spacey George Clooney. But that is not what you’re going to get.

Bob Wilton (Ewan McGregor) is a down-and-out journalist for a regional newspaper with an urge to prove himself. In the middle of the war in Iraq, he ventures over to Kuwait to become the intrepid reporter he always wanted to be. Here he encounters Lyn Cassidy (Clooney), the best student in the US Military’s psychic-soldier program — The New World Army. Together they brave their way into Iraq to complete Lyn’s secret mission. What unfolds is a tale of conflicting ideologies in a world that continues to outgrow the paranormal.

Goat’s storyline, narrated by Bob, bounces between Middle East adventure and choppy retrospective, and it normally remains in the realm that exists between sad and flat. All those scenes that you expect from the trailer end up scattering throughout the flick like awkward throw-ins from a bad Barry Sonnenfeld movie — heavily situational and lacking originality.

This is not to say that Goats is without charm. The appearance of TV favorites Robert Patrick (X-Files), Glenn Morshower (24) and Rebecca Mader (Lost), in roles that highlight their typecast-ability, rewards the sort of paranormal/action/adventure addicts that are likely to attend Goats.

The decision to cast McGregor in a role in which he plays a Padawan learner to Clooney’s Jedi Master is also not without fantastic irony. For the unfamiliar, this relationship mirrors the bond between apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi (McGregor) and Jedi Qui-Gon Jin (Liam Neeson) in Star Wars Episode I. In a movie that deals so heavily with Star Wars mythology, with some scenes loosely parodying others from The Phantom Menace, die-hard George Lucas fans can walk out of Goats with a new appreciation for the made-up religion they love.

But for others, Goats is going to disappoint. Plot-driven and focused on developing a Coen Brothers-esque absurdity that never truly comes to fruition, the movie produces characters that all can be described in single words — spacey, pathetic, flowery, angry — respectively. This is not the fault of a cast of talented stars (and McGregor), but rather the fault of a script that doesn’t give them ample opportunity to do what they do best.

Will you laugh at times? Yes. But for a movie that deals with serious contemporary issues — a bloated military and a miffed invasion — as this one does, it does little work providing commentary on the topics it is immersed in — which would have been fine if it had been more funny. But Goats winds up feeling contrived, ending (rather abruptly) with its protagonist achieving new heights the movie doesn’t quite prove he earns. Similarily, Goats doesn’t quite earn the hype it’s received.

Suggested viewing strategy: Wait to see this until Thanksgiving, take your whole family, and see which uncles are most similar to the characters portrayed in the film. In so doing, you may provide a depth of characterization to these poor actors who are starved by this movie’s scant plot.

OR: Drinking Game: Take a shot every time you feel sad about how old Jeff Bridges is. This drinking game can also be played when you are not watching Goats.

1. It’s Friday night. Well, technically, it’s Saturday morning. 1:30 in the morning, and you are going for a late-night BK run. Once upon a time you would have settled for a few sandwiches off of the dollar menu. But you’re the president of Northwestern University now, and you can afford a treat — even though you gave some of that money for your party to A&O for that John Legend concert. What a swell guy.

You opt for the BK Quad Stacker. You jaywalk back across the street toward campus to pick up some papers from the administrative offices. Who’s going to stop you? You’re the president of Northwestern! You approach the steps by the clock tower and … hark! A drunken freshman girl is stumbling down the stairs! She too is going to BK! She told her friends she was just going to get a four-piece chicken tenders, but you can see it in her eyes – she’s going for an eight-piece, with a milkshake and a large fry. What do you do?

a. You let her stumble on. Traffic is light on Clark, and chances are she will make it to BK safely. Proceed to 4.

b. You offer her some of the Wild Turkey from your hip flask. It’s the sort of friendly gesture that you hope will endear you to your new student body. Proceed to 3.

c. You ask her if she needs help. She looks like she needs it. Proceed to 2.

2. You’re on the right track! You’re taking action! You’re empathetic! You’re practically a hero! But as you approach she swoons and topples. Quick! What do you do?

a. DIVE! You will keep this girl from hurting herself even if it means shredding your matching tie and sweater combination on the concrete. Proceed to 7.

b. You think. And think a little more. Too late! There was no time for thinking! She fell! Proceed to 6.

c. You take out your phone and get it all on camera. The next day you post it on Youtube as “Smashed Girl Smashes Face.” Proceed to 5.

3. Listen. Making friends with students is important, but chances are Student Affairs isn’t going to be too pleased about this one. If you want to be friendly, offer her some water or a loaf of bread. Nothing says “friendship” like handing a couple stale slices of Pepperidge Farms Wheatberry to a drunk person. As you pass her the flask, a wandering building security guard catches you. In the words of everyone’s favorite fluffy-haired billionaire — “You’re fired.” The end.

4. Really, Morty? What a cop-out. Here at Northwestern, we aren’t limp-limbed intellectuals like those kids at Williams, we are proactive doers. You would have been better-off kicking her down the stairs. Not to mention there is no possibility for driving the plot forward if you don’t do anything! The end.

5. Tasteless. Absolutely tasteless. Enjoy your Quad Stacker, you sadistic fiend. The end.

6. You’re a critical thinker. That’s to be appreciated. But sometimes there just isn’t time to be asking “How would Foucault view this situation?” or “Would my actions here be those of a Hobbes-ian or a Locke-ian?” Now the girl is bleeding, and you’re standing there, Quad Stacker in hand, looking the fool. How long is it going to take you to call the police? Because you really don’t have time to think through the power relationships between the police and citizens right now. The end.

7. Wow. Get you a hat and a whip, and you’d be a veritable Indiana Jones (and the Slovenly Music Performance Major, nice ring to it, eh?) She’s safely cradled in your arms, but now she’s lurching. You recognize the motion, it’s the same one your cat makes before he deposits a hairball on the kitchen floor. Think fast, Indy!

a. You are not getting puked on. You carefully set her head on the ground and tilt her body sideways, so she doesn’t choke on her tongue. Just like they taught you in CPR class. Then you get on your phone and call for help. Proceed to 8.

b. Stoic to the end, you can’t imagine the dual humiliation of this girl puking and resting on a concrete pillow. You brace yourself and try and envision the face of the guy at the dry-cleaners when you bring that outfit in. Proceed to 9.

8. You can’t be faulted for this one. Really, what good is it going to do anybody if you get puked on? Paramedics will be there soon, you’ll be deemed a hero, and you’ll get to finally enjoy that Quad Stacker. Totally free of Jungle Juice regurgitation. You pass. Congrats.

9. Martyr syndrome much? Good luck enjoying that Quad Stacker when you’re covered in what smells unnervingly like BK’s special sauce. There is a Fear Factor victory in your near future. The end.

Review: Capitalism: A Love Story
Grade: A-
Bottom Line: While a bit unfocused and at times self-serving, Michael Moore’s new movie proves that if this generation has an Upton Sinclair, it’s probably him.

Capitalism: A Love Story is the biggest gamble that Michael Moore has ever undertaken. That is, he takes his classic strategy — embracing certain aspects of American culture while derailing others — to a whole new extreme. But unlike Fahrenheit 9/11, this movie maintains credibility by decrying Democrats as well as Republicans. The central villain here is Connecticut Democratic Senator Chris Dodd, who Moore charges with orchestrating, along with a number of former Goldman Sachs employees in the Treasury Department, the quick push-through of the now infamous Wall Street bailouts.

Because Capitalism has such a density of content, plucked from all aspects of American life, this documentary feels disjointed and haphazard. It is, as you may have guessed, a collection of stories detailing how capitalism is bad for average Americans.

If you are one of those average Americans, Capitalism: A Love Story has the capacity to rupture your self-concept. And I mean that. Moore has two Catholic priests and a Catholic bishop on record as saying that capitalism is inherently evil and is fundamentally at odds with the teachings of God. This is difficult to stomach if you were raised to believe:

1. Capitalism is diametrically opposed to communism (never mind all the gray area in between).
2. Communism is associated with godlessness, therefore associating its rival, capitalism, as being synonymous with God.

It’s also difficult to ignore if you’ve read the Bible.

If you’re not one of those average Americans, Capitalism forces you to do what you probably should have been doing your entire life: understanding where you stand in a country with a systematic program of power and privilege that is designed to benefit few while disenfranchising many.

This is one of the many tangents that Moore explores. He also addresses the horrific policy known among blue chip companies as “Peasant’s Insurance,” whereby corporations receive insurance money when their employees die (ever wonder why all the greeters at Wal-Mart are so old?). However, the crux of the tale is Washington’s cozy relationship with Wall Street, which results in the Bush administration and the Democratic Congress handing over billions of American dollars to failed corporations — leaving viewers with a well-argued impression of capitalism as anti-democratic.

If there is one thread that continues throughout the movie, it is human stories, which range from positively heart-wrenching to I-really-can’t-stand-how-fucking-sad-this-is-I-need-to-leave-and-eat-ice-cream-with-my-girlfriends sad. Such scenes are juxtaposed with some hilarious satire and some uplifting anecdotes as well. These, coupled with the fast and fractured nature of the movie, make it an exhausting roller coaster ride, leaving you teary-eyed when you’re supposed to be laughing and laughing when some minute detail of how it all works is being explained.

And for those who were worried, Moore doesn’t call for a bloody communist uprising. Keep your pants on.

Critics in the past have described Moore’s tone in his movies as pretentious, aloof and too sarcastic to appeal to large masses. Fans have described it as poignant and witty. This demarcation can normally be predicted dependent upon whether or not you agree with what Moore has to say (and in the interest of full disclosure, I will admit I tend to agree). The tone is no different in Capitalism, and, in as much, the criticism and the praise probably won’t be either.

It’s a shame that Moore seems to have lost all understanding of transitions and segues, because it really takes away from a compelling message that couldn’t be more timely. Inadvertently, some will reject the movie on the basis that it is another Moore/Weinstein Brothers production. Others will refuse to appreciate it because it forces them to question their understanding of what “American” is. All the rancor suggests that Moore is probably doing something right.

Democrat or Republican, rich or poor, capitalist or communist, informed or ignorant, disillusioned or hopeful, Capitalism is a must-see for all Americans as we work through the collective grief, confusion, anger and profound sadness that the economic crisis of the recent past has brought to us. Perhaps you are unaware of or untouched by this grief, confusion, anger and sadness. If so, Capitalism serves as a great vehicle to see what you’ve been missing out on.

“You guys may not know this, but you probably do — I went to fucking school here,” Seth Meyers (Communication ‘96) said when he first came on stage at Cahn Auditorium late Friday night.

Meyers, a head writer for Saturday Night Live best known for his role as anchor on the show’s “Weekend Update,” made an appearance before a sold-out audience at Cahn. He performed a comedy routine touching on a series of issues especially pertinent to college students, running the gamut from futons, study abroad and Chicago weather to porn, texting and drinking.

Later in the set, he discussed a series of American politicians including Sarah Palin, Mark Sanford and fellow Northwestern alumnus Rod Blagojevich. Of Blagojevich’s hair, Meyers said, “It’s like his toupee has a toupee […] The first time I saw him, I thought he was walking away.”

The set was finished with a reading of Weekend Update one-liners that were rejected for air. This was followed by a question and answer session where Meyers revealed he lived in Willard while on campus and became a member of the Phi Gamma Delta fraternity. Pertaining to SNL, he divulged that Amy Poehler was his favorite coworker, The Killers were one of his favorite in-house musical acts and Jon Hamm (Mad Men) and John McCain are among some of his favorite hosts.

Before the show, Meyers met with North by Northwestern in the basement green room of Cahn Auditorium to talk about his life at Northwestern and his current comedy career.

You are, of course, a Northwestern alum. Did you have a good experience here?

The best. It really was the best. I loved it here. My parents and my younger brother went here as well. I grew up in New Hampshire, but I wanted to go to a school with a good film program and I didn’t want to go to New York or L.A. It sort of fit a lot of the things I wanted. But then I met some of the best people on earth, and I’m still really good friends with all those college buddies. A lot of history here. It’s weird that I don’t have my own statue.

Any complaints at all?

The weather. I hate to be that guy. And, I hate to show my age, but it seems during my time here, things started to get more regimented, less fun. Like tailgates used to be crazier than they are now.

You were also a member of the Mee-Ow improv troupe. How did that experience shape what we’re seeing from you today?

Mee-Ow is absolutely the reason I am in comedy today. I was at Northwestern, I was a RTVF major, I wasn’t a very good student […] I consider myself an absentee student. But I was in the creative writing program, which I really loved, and I was sort of thinking of getting involved in screenwriting. But my senior year, I got into Mee-Ow and absolutely fell in love with it. Then I started going down to Chicago and doing stuff at Improv Olympic. So when I graduated, I thought, “Well I’m going to keep trying to do this until someone tells me to stop.” My best friend at Northwestern, his name is Pete Gross — he’s the guy who drives in the Sonic commercials, and he writes for The Colbert Report –- but he and I were in Mee-Ow together, we did improv together in Chicago. Then we auditioned and got hired together for a group called Boom Chicago in Amsterdam, which was started by Northwestern guys who were older than us, but who were also Mee-Ow guys. And I think one of the reasons they hired us is because we had that Mee-Ow pedigree. Mee-Ow was key for me in a lot of ways.

Your brother Josh was also in Boom Chicago. The two of you seemed to follow a similar path — you both went to NU, and at one point you were on SNL while he was on MADtv. Same time slot too. Is there any competition in that relationship?

No. He’s my best friend. It was just kind of crazy, all that stuff happening at the same time, but we were never competitive.

How is doing a stand-up show like the one you are doing tonight different than writing or acting for SNL?

A stand-up show is you and your point of view for an hour, whereas writing for SNL, you have the benefit of doing smaller pieces, and using bigger casts. Stand-up is more personal. Doing a show like SNL, you’re obviously writing inside the format that has existed for years. Also, with stand-up, there’s less bells and whistles. It’s just you onstage.

Which do you like more?

I like them both. The stress of SNL is that you know there are six or seven million people watching it live, whereas the stress of this is, there’s fewer people, but if something goes wrong it is definitely your fault.

Andy Samberg [who visited Northwestern in 2008] is hugely popular with college-age populations, having made a name for himself via the SNL digital shorts. What is he like off-camera?

He is one of the sweetest guys I know. His sense of humor in the digital shorts is the same as his sense of humor in real life. It’s like being friends with a meerkat, he’s so fucking nocturnal. He lives in my neighborhood, and every time we make plans to watch football or something, I’ll get a text message at seven o’clock at night saying he just woke up. But he’s a good man.

Some of the most poignant stuff SNL has done in a long time came out during the 2008 election. You are credited with having written Tina Fey’s Sarah Palin routine. You are also an Obama supporter. How does that preference work in the creative process?

We wrote plenty of stuff critical of the Obama administration. But you can never be strident with your politics in comedy writing — certainly on SNL. We do silly better than we do serious. So, Obama, it’s not because I’m a supporter that it’s hard to make fun of him, it’s hard to make fun of him because he is very self-aware, he has a great sense of humor. It makes it hard. You definitely want your politicians to lack awareness. It makes it easier as a comedian. With that said, it’s funny when people ask why we don’t make more fun of Obama. I would like to add, if we did, it’s because I don’t think he’s liberal enough. So they wouldn’t be happy with what I would tease him for.

During your earlier years on SNL, you did some notable impersonations. Do you have any favorites?

No. I’m really glad I don’t have to do impersonations anymore. I like doing the news, I’m way better at being myself than being anyone else. Some comedians are better at disappearing into impersonations of other people, but I always thought that was kind of a stretch for me.

We have a lot of aspiring actors, writers and comedians here at Northwestern. Any advice for them?

Do what you like doing as often as possible for as many people as possible. The reason I’m on SNL is that I was doing a show in Chicago and a SNL scout was there, but it was a show that I had done a hundred times before. But if I had missed that night, they never would have seen me. You just have to increase your own odds as much as possible.

Sam Rockwell stars in Moon. Photo courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.

Moon has all the trappings of what could very well be a disappointing Alien remake: blue-collar workers in outer space, a sinister-seeming robot and a space station with far too many nooks and crannies for viewers to feel comfortable. Yet, as the story develops, it’s easy to see that Moon has much more depth than the aforementioned sci-fi thriller classic achieves. Moon is a story that puts common conceptions of humanity and memory into question, and does so in an intelligent manner.

Sam Rockwell (Frost/Nixon, The Green Mile) is Sam Bell, an employee of Lunar Industries, a company which has learned how to extract Helium 3 from the moon as a clean energy source to power planet earth. A one-man mining team nearing the end of his three year contract on the moon, Sam spends his free time working on a model town, exercising and talking to the pathetic-looking plants in the green room. His only companion is GERTY, a boxy robot who conveys feelings via a large emoticon on his mechanical veneer. GERTY, voiced by Kevin Spacey (American Beauty, The Usual Suspects), is alternatively eerie and comical as he tries to help Sam through his final weeks at the station.

Directed by Duncan Jones (David Bowie’s son), Moon takes on a surreal element as Sam starts to see things that aren’t there, subsequently leading to an injury that turns his whole world upside down. Following his accident, Sam is given strict restrictions by the mysterious GERTY and his elusive bosses. Disobeying orders, Sam discovers a terrible truth that puts the very meaning of his existence into question.

The movie’s pacing is deliberately and provocatively slow, sometimes eliciting the same frustration that Sam experiences as the movie progresses. Stunning moonscapes are showcased throughout, and the camerawork is otherwise outstanding, enhancing Rockwell’s nuanced and complex approach to his role as he literally has conversations with himself.

Moon refuses to lend itself to poorly lit action sequences, extraterrestrial characters, overtly philosophical discussions, or any of the other taints that have spotted the science fiction genre since the mid-70s. Rather, Sam’s tribulations speak for themselves. Still, many of the movie’s underlying messages are rehashed –- despite being presented in a thought-provoking manner –- making the final sequences a bit difficult to stomach.

In spite of its awkward pacing and its revisited thematic elements, Moon’s intricate subtleties make it a stand-out in recent sci-fi history, and a definite must-see for lovers of earlier classics of the genre.

If you’re anything like most avid moviegoers, the idea of “3-D” may have once left you a bit nervous. After all, it wasn’t too long ago that My Bloody Valentine rocked into theaters in all its pick-ax-throwing glory. Yet, a new dawn may be on the horizon for 3-D movies, as the eerie Coraline proved, the trompe-l’oeil normally associated with cheesy horror films may be on its way to integrating itself into beautiful storytelling. Case in point? Disney-Pixar’s new release, Up.

Up is the story of Carl Fredrickson (voiced by Edward Asner), a disgruntled loner making a living as a balloon salesman in a city that is changing all around him — without his permission. But Carl wasn’t always this way. As viewers find out in the first minutes of the movie, the curmudgeon was once happily married to his childhood sweetheart, Ellie. Unable to have children but sharing a love of exploring, the two promised to one day travel to Paradise Falls in South America. Yet, as the years pass, the couple encounters several setbacks, and Ellie passes away without ever reaching South America — and that’s just the first 15 minutes (and yes, it’s heart-wrenching). Here there is a quiet realism that Pixar movies have missed in preceding works, and it colors the otherwise radiant movie throughout. Spurned by his wife’s death and other extenuating circumstances, Carl leaves the city for Paradise Falls via balloon-house, unwittingly bringing the clumsy but well-intentioned Russell (voiced by Jordan Nagai) along for the adventure.

It’s a new frontier for Pixar, and one rarely tread by Disney. Having dealt with love, friendship and even environmentalism in the past, Pixar has been unwilling to develop the gonads to deal with death (save Wall-E’s possible robot “death”) –- until now. Don’t worry, the tale still has its fair share of look-pretty frillies (an airship-house laden with thousands of balloons, an all-pallet-encompassing primal bird), but Ellie’s introduction and subsequent demise give the otherwise absurd adventure a layer of tangibility that’s all for the better.

Concerning digital animation, Up is virtually flawless, the kind of movie that will give even those unimpressed by the rendition of Sully’s fur in Monsters Inc. reason for pause. Most notable are the emotions that Carl conveys with a face that appears at the onset as rigidly blocky. Where words were once necessary in CGI; Carl, Russell, and company can say it all with facial expressions rendered in ways viewers have never seen before. I attended an early 2-D screening of Up, and haven’t seen it in all its 3-D glory. Instinctively, I have to wonder whether or not Disney-Pixar will take a tasteful Coraline approach, or if we’ll be left thinking “Did that really need to be 3-D?”

But if there is anything that’s going to bother you throughout the movie, it will be the age of Carl’s childhood hero Charles Muntz (voiced by Christopher Plummer), a man for whom the sands of time seem to have little meaning. But this is a skeptical criticism of a movie that clearly does not welcome such cynical accusations (see flying house, talking dogs, nonexistent geographical locations, etc.).

Everything else comes together seamlessly: great voicing, a solid soundtrack and a script that alternates between moving and hilarious. Up has all the potential to become Disney-Pixar’s new flagship work -– a compelling tale of remembrance, letting go and new friendships that has the capacity to appeal to children, adults and jaded college students alike.

The writer behind WALL-E and Toy Story and the director/writer behind Monsters Inc., Pete Docter, has finished work on Pixar Studio’s upcoming and much-anticipated 3-D epic, Up!, to be released this Friday. Up! is the tale of the of an old man’s quest to South America -– via a helium balloon-laden house. North by Northwestern met with Docter in downtown Chicago to discuss the upcoming movie.

Up! is a hilarious movie, but it also has some really emotional, heavy themes. Where did those come from?

We knew we had enough comedy and goofy, wacky stuff in the middle, and a lot of action at the end. It was important for me to base that on something that felt like an emotional foundation so that you really care about this guy. You want to feel that it’s desperate for [the old man] Carl to get that house to the falls –- which is such a bizarre idea to begin with. To have as much emotion behind it as we could was really important. It was only in the closeness of that relationship and that loss, that promise that he made that he never got to fulfill, that really carries the story.

Some of these themes are really complex, “adult” even, in that they deal with death and loss. Do you risk losing younger audiences by having such strong focus on these issues?

We’ve always said that we’re trying to make films for everybody. If you psychoanalyzed most animators, we are probably like at junior high school age. We’re the first audience for these. We kind of test them out on ourselves. We’re not trying to second guess, like from a marketing standpoint, we’re just trying to react in the same way an audience would, and we want to make sure that whatever we do, that it’s effective to an audience member –- that it reaches them.

This movie has blood in it –- as far as I can remember, a first for a Pixar movie. Did someone have to give the go ahead for that?

It’s funny, I don’t remember having a conversation with anybody about that. It’s animation right? So any time somebody hits somebody else, you’re used to laughing –- that’s what Bugs Bunny does. Watching this with an audience, it really works well because Carl’s getting all mad, and he hits the guy, and a couple people in the audience laugh, and as soon as you see blood everybody shuts up and goes “Oh jeez, he crossed the line.” Which is exactly the story point –- that Carl went too far. We kind of needed it. We weren’t able to think of any other way to make that same point.

You have been involved in all stages of the animated movie creation process. What part of the process is your favorite?

The most fun is probably the hardest: developing the new characters. It’s where you find yourself staring at the blank page going “Wha … where … wha?” But by the end, hopefully, you have some interesting new characters that nobody’s ever seen before. There’s no right answers, it’s not like it’s a science question where there’s one way to go … Its just kind of a big blank slate. Every time it’s new. Every time we start again I think, “Okay, now I’ve got it figured out, now this next time it’s going to be easier,” and it never is.

You’ve done a whole bunch of animated movies: Wall-E, Monsters Inc., Toy Story. What is it about the medium that keeps you coming back?

I think the thing that animation does the best is … it’s like a reduction sauce, you take real life and you distill it down to something more potent than real life. If you’re looking for a super cute little kid, you get rid of anything that’s not super cute, and you make it the strongest statement of that as you possibly can. For Carl, we were looking for this grouchy, curmudgeon-y guy, and it just felt right to make him as a square. You get his head, and it’s really square, and his body’s square, and he lives in this square house, and he’s constantly framed in these squares. I guess you could do that in live action, but, there’s kind of this sense of caricature that you can push in animation that I really love.

You’ve described this movie as one about escaping the world. Considering that some people are experiencing hard times right now, what sort of impact do you hope the movie has on them?

If I had to synopsize the theme of the movie, it really comes down to the adventure book. Carl looks through it, and gets to “Stuff I Am Going to Do,” which he assumes will be blank. But he looks at those pages and they’re not blank, they’re actually full of things that he and his wife did. But they’re small things, like having a cup of coffee on the front porch, or a picnic or changing the tire. If the film can make people appreciate things that they have already, especially friends and family -– I think that’s the central lesson of life that I always forget –- that the stuff you really remember fondly are these goofy times playing cards with your friends -– small moments that don’t really sound like much, but end up really sitting with you.

Hailing from San Francisco, Tea Leaf Green is the sort of band best seen live, where they elaborate on songs that are increasingly gaining critical acclaim for potent lyricism and flourishing melodies. Effectively utilizing rock-guitar, classic keys, harmonica, banjo and vocals likened to those of a more coherent Bob Dylan, TLG is an unpretentious outfit likely to appeal to a wide range of musical tastes.

TLG has produced five albums since its creation in 1996. The most recent release, Raise Up the Tent, produced by David Lowery (of Camper Van Beethoven fame), is a soulful work that treads the line between blues and rock — with positive results. It’s a good buy if you’re looking to familiarize yourself with TLG’s music before Philfest.

TLG performing “If It Wasn’t for the Money” from 2005’s Taught to Be Proud. One of many songs that illustrate what a power jamming force TLG is.

“Faced with Love” is a bit more low-key, but still rocks. Check out the guitar solo at the three-minute mark.

For the unfamiliar, Waa-Mu has been one of Northwestern’s most widely attended shows for decades. It features song-and-dance numbers and comedic sketches that have been performed nowhere else. Additionally, a theme is picked for the Waa-Mu show every year. Past themes include Skylines, The Club and Are We There Yet?

Photo by Sean Kane / North by Northwestern

And after all that time, One For the Books is all about keeping with the tradition that has lived with Waa-Mu throughout, said Communication senior and co-chair of this year’s show, Eugenio Vargas. The tradition in question has everything to do with the all-new content — a compilation of work from various writers. Vargas and his fellow co-chairs have good reason to stick to the show’s now classic format; after all, it once earned Waa-Mu praise from the Associated Press, which claimed that it was “the greatest college show in America.”

Such a title may seem hard to live up to, but for the co-chairs of the show, meeting — if not exceeding — expectations, wasn’t much of a worry.

“We all have three years’ experience apiece in past Waa-Mu’s,” said co-chair Communication senior Cara Rifkin, “So we’ve had plenty of time to see what works well, and what works better.”

With all the time for perfection, Waa-Mu has produced an impressive amount of talent. With alumni including Sheldon Harnick (lyricist, Fiddler on the Roof), and Warren Beatty (Dick Tracy, Bonnie and Clyde) it has become known as a launch pad for stars of various persuasions.

It’s hard to tell what’s the highlight of this year’s Waa-Mu show. Maybe it’s the scantily clad librarians. Maybe it’s the dark twist on Goodnight, Moon. Maybe it’s the ‘choose your own adventure’ segment. Maybe it’s Ron Weasley exclaiming to Hermione Granger that she is his “Sorcerer’s Stone.” Maybe you’ll have to go and see yourself.

This year, the show’s theme, One for the Books, focuses on the varied characters and creations of recognized literature, encompassing segments featuring Waldo, the one who can’t be found; Harold, with the purple crayon; Rachel Ray; Jane Fonda; and others, in a series of never-before-seen sketches and musical numbers. Some acts feature soloists while others involve entire chorus lines of dancers. Waa-Mu features performers drawn from a pool of over 200 auditioning students, which, according to Rifkin, provides the show with “the best cast on campus, by far.”

The show is a product of a school year’s worth of writing, scoring, arranging and casting, a process that began last fall. And after that?

“We come back from spring break, and its ‘go, go, go!’” Communication senior Kaitlin Fine exclaimed, referring to the relatively brief rehearsal time the show is allotted — about four weeks.

Throughout the process, Waa-Mu benefits from overwhelming support, beginning with a “large chunk” of university money. Help and guidance from Director Dominic Missimi, Northwestern professors and departments, professional choreographers and various other individuals also make the process possible, Vargas said. The result is a long-term familial experience that keeps bringing back alumni from decades past to see the show, Rifkin said. Rifkin, Vargas, Beck and Fine, for example, have all been involved in Waa-Mu since their freshman years, and appear as actors, singers, and dancers in this year’s show as well.

Even if you don’t know someone who is involved, the show is still worth going to, said Communication senior co-chair Julia Beck.

“This show is smart, this show is funny, the cast is incredible. I’m biased, but I’m going to say that this one of the better Waa-Mu shows,” Beck said.

Deborah Kim contributed reporting.