Our celebration of youth continues! If you missed out on part one of this super-sized piece, please check it out, and then come back here as more contributors, including Kazim and newbie Eric from the DE Podcast, share their favourite oeuvres dedicated to children and teens.
Calvin and Hobbes
Whenever I walk into someone’s home, I head straight for the bookshelves to look at what kind of novels, comics, and instruction manuals he or she is reading. A special smile always comes to my face when I see an edition of Bill Watterson’s Calvin and Hobbes. Originally published between 1985 and 1995 in Sunday funnies across the continent, the comic strip introduces us to Calvin, a normal kid with lots of imagination, and his stuffed tiger Hobbes, who, of course, converses with the boy and takes part in his adventures.
The reason I find Calvin and Hobbes in so many bookshelves is simple: it’s a work of genius. First of all, Watterson is a brilliant illustrator. As anyone who’s spent time with kids can attest, his rendition of Calvin’s facial expressions are spot on. Second, the themes of his comic are universal. A kid dealing with family, school, and a jumping tiger: who couldn’t relate to that? Only twenty-seven years old when he started, the cartoonist managed to do something most artists strive to achieve their entire lives: create something that feels real. That he did it all with the help of a stuffed tiger pretty much seals the deal for me.
Noein: To Your Other Self
Long-time readers know I have a certain predilection for the Disney Channel catalog. After recommending a gritty drama in part one, I was tempted to praise here the first two seasons of The Wizards of Waverly Place, the Selena Gomez and Demi Lovato crossover Princess Protection Program (2009), or the Bridgit Mendler vehicle Lemonade Mouth, and don’t ask me how I know all these names. Instead, I’d like to recommend some Japanese anime because nothing says “youthful spirit” like false gods, convoluted plots, killer cyborgs from an alternate timeline, and ghostly tentacle monsters. I’m referring to Noein: To Your Other Self, a 2005-2006 television series that tells of five boys and girls on the cusp of puberty spending their last summer together before junior high.
Well, that may be underselling it a bit. Gallivanting across a near perfect animated replica of Hakodate in Hokkaido, Japan, the children encounter a jaded freedom-fighter from the future who’s come back to avert an invasion by a neighbouring dimension called Shangri-La. He turns out to be one of the kids, of course, as their subsequent decisions may decide the fate of the world. Noein: To Your Other Self captures perfectly the advantage the young have over us: to them, the future is not the culmination of chosen paths but an infinite multiverse in which every possibility can strive for existence. I don’t mean to suggest adult life lacks in wonderment, but don’t you wish you’d met your soul mate at Haruka and Yu’s age, back when hover boots and quantum disruptors were legitimate visions of tomorrow?
Growing up, I had an intimate knowledge of the Catholic education system, what with my going to church every Sunday and all my brothers and cousins attending private school. I knew that the atmosphere could get bizarrely vicious when matters of faith were involved, something that had less to do with religion itself than the way it’d get manipulated within the teenage jungle. As such, I kind of relate to Brian Dannelly’s Saved!, about a girl (Jena Malone) who gets pregnant after sacrificing her virginity to “save” her gay boyfriend (Chad Faust). I’ve never gone through anything like that, of course, but the way her peers harass her, especially Hilary Faye (Mandy Moore), echoes a lot of my friends and family’s stories.
The satirical comedy really looks at the hypocrisy of kids like Hilary Faye, how they use religion to undermine those who are different, but it does so in a smart and fun way, making sure to provide a complete picture. There are scenes, for example, in which the villainess prays in absolute earnest to try and be the best Christian she can possibly be, completely unaware that her actions are, in fact, very unchristian. Saved! isn’t an attack on faith, you see. It’s more to do with the way the notion is used to either bring people together or ostracise them, which is a typical teenage issue.
The Dog Who Stopped the War (1984)
Much to your surprise, I’m sure, there was a time when I didn’t play video games five hours a day. Luckily, to fill those empty hours, I had TV and movies. For this contributor’s pick, I recommend one of my favorite films from those more innocent days: the first of the Tales for All series of family flicks produced in Québec. I’m referring, of course, to 1984’s La Guerre des Tuques, which literally translates to “The War of the Knit Caps” but was unfortunately released in English under the title The Dog Who Stopped the War. Spoiler alert!
The plot of (I can’t believe I’m writing this) The Dog Who Stopped the War is simple but effective at drawing you in. During Christmas break, a group of kids in a small village decide to wage war against each other with snowballs, wooden swords, and a two story high fortress that was just about the coolest thing I’d ever seen at the time, probably prompting the dozens of snow forts I built in my backyard throughout my youth. The film features awesome characters, like the dumb kid who keeps asking what everything means, the twins who talk at the same time, the nature-loving hippie who just wants to stop the war, and his annoying cousin from Victoriaville. If you’re a parent and believe that seeing a few children playing war will not scar your family for life, check out this great movie despite its awful, awful English title.