Fred Rogers

  • Won’t You Be My Neighbor? (2018)

    Won’t You Be My Neighbor? (2018)

    (On TV, April 2021) I was very, very late in understanding the accomplishments of Fred Rogers as a kid’s TV host. Much of it is due to the fact that I didn’t speak much English when I was in Mr. Rogers’ target audience. Obviously, I became aware of his saintlike reputation over the years, but it wasn’t until a year or two ago that I actually watched a rerun of the show and was astonished at how… calm and gentle it was. I happened to catch the Tom Hanks biopic a few months ago, but it’s only now that I sat down to watch the documentary Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, exploring Roger’s life, accomplishments, and entire philosophy. Using interviews, show footage and some animated segments featuring Daniel Tiger (explicitly presented as an alter ego for Rogers), this is a documentary that starts from the same question as the Hanks docufiction: Was Mr. Rogers for real? Was he as benevolent and kind-hearted as his reputation made him out to be? As the documentary eventually points out, this seems to be difficult for people to accept — we’d rather believe that he was a Navy SEAL who swore off killing than accept that such a genuinely nice person could exist, incidentally suggesting that we are not as nice as we could be. One of the most intriguing aspects of the film is how it tracks the strong association between Rogers’ approach and his own faith—an ordained minister, Rogers sometimes referred to his show as a ministry, and it’s not rare for the documentary to use spiritual or religious language in describing his actions—anyone calling him a saint, for instance, because the modern vernacular does not have other words descriptive enough. Won’t You Be My Neighbor? does fully engage with the notions of absolute goodness, and as time goes by, I suspect that its 2018 release date will weigh more and more heavily as a reminder of where it came from, two years into a nakedly malevolent American presidency that had viewers struggling to accept how someone without moral qualities could be voted into the highest office of the land. In this light, the example of Mr. Rogers becomes essential. Rogers was kind because he operated from a set of core principles: respect the child, protect the child and be honest with the child. Some of the show footage is gobsmacking in its forthrightness — who would now even dare discuss political assassinations on a kid’s show? What makes a lot of adults very uncomfortable, however, is when Rogers used this same basic honesty on adults — essentially treating adults the way he’d like kids to be treated, and the effect was usually disarming (even against prickly US senators). Won’t You Be My Neighbor? does poke and prod at the legend, but the worst it can find about Rogers is a childhood of being bullied, a bit of dissociation with his puppets, and an increasing righteousness as he became older — not exactly anything embarrassing, nor out-of-character for his public persona. Asked if Mr. Rogers was the real thing, all interviewers agreed that he was. Clips of people criticizing Rogers without even understanding what he was trying to do reflect badly on the criticizers (and may induce some outrage in viewers). But where Won’t You Be My Neighbor? further distinguishes itself from other standard biopics is in its willingness to try using some of Mr. Rogers’ humanity on its interviewees and audience: the film ends on an incredibly poignant note as, in countering despair about the lack of kindness, interviewees are asked to spend one silent minute thinking about kind people who helped them become who they are. Tears well up, the silence holds and the sequence ends with many interviewees thanking director Morgan Neville for the moment. It’s an incredible finish to an exceptional film about an extraordinary man. Yes, Mr. Rogers was exactly who he appeared to be. Yes, he was better than most of us. Yes, we can do better in aspiring to be like him.

  • A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (2019)

    A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (2019)

    (Amazon Streaming, December 2020) I understand why the world makes us cynics (I’m Gen-X; while we didn’t invent cynicism, we’re pretty good at it,) but it’s not a bad idea once in a while to stop and ask ourselves if there’s another way. I had limited exposure to Fred Rogers in my youth, but discovering him as an adult may be an even bigger revelation – his incredibly earnest, vulnerable approach to the human condition is enough to make anyone wonder – is this guy for real? Is it even possible to be this uncynical, or does it hide something else? This turns out to be one of the key pieces of A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, a Rogers biopic that has to navigate a tricky path between describing Rogers, not falling prey to easy contrarianism and trying not to repeat the 2018 documentary Won’t You be My Neighbour? too much. Structurally, the film avoids making Rogers the protagonist, and instead follows the adventure of a journalist who thinks of himself as too cool for Rogers – only for Rogers to become the antagonist, the one breaking down the main character and rebuilding him for the better. Tom Hanks is an almost perfect fit for playing Rogers: With the weight of his filmography as a nice guy and a generally irreproachable personal life, Hanks roughly occupies a similar cultural space as Rogers. Director Marielle Heller has a few tricks up her sleeve here – presenting a film that struggles with the possibility that Roger may, in fact, exactly be what he appears to be despite an almost-childish desire to find otherwise (with a few darker sequences to shock viewers); and borrowing a few powerful moments from the documentary within a narrative structure. It’s all quite impressive: the film’s tough armour is gradually whittled away until a state of guilelessness is achieved, and the impact is quite something. Maybe the carapace we carry can be taken off from time to time.