STI: Keep 'em glued on classics

Jul 7, 2004

Keep 'em glued on classics
by Paul Zach

WHEN my son Sean asks to watch a movie, he knows what he wants even if he doesn't always know the title.

'Daddy, I want the DVD where the guys are clicking hands.'

Now I don't know how many 3 1/2-year-olds ask for West Side Story instead of Barney the purple dinosaur. But I'm glad my son does.

With an operatic score composed by Leonard Bernstein, Stephen Sond heim's sophisticated lyrics and choreography by Jerome Robbins that has never been matched, it was one of the last great musicals committed to film.

Watching my son watching it wide-eyed from the moment the Jets start whistling to each other to the three-hanky finale is like seeing it for the first time again.

Every time the young Russ Tamblyn executes another ligament-wrenching dance step across a Manhattan playground, Sean squints more intently at the TV screen - and I brace myself in the event he tries to get airborne too.

After all, soon after Sean got hooked on Singin' In The Rain, I would find him tap-dancing across my coffee table while singing Moses Supposes.

He also goes into what looks like Donald O'Connor's Make 'Em Laugh routine when he's in the mood to make a notable entrance into his school classroom on some mornings.

But that's okay with me. I see no reason why, when the world has produced so much fine art that a child should have to settle for the Teletubbies, and worse.

(Parents beware: The woman who gave birth to Tinky Winky, Dipsy, Laa-Laa and Po has just spawned an even baby bigger baby merchandising ring known as the Boobahs - Humbah, Jingbah, Jumbah, Zing Zing Zingbah and Zumbah. I kid you not.)

One of the most memorable gifts I received from my parents when I was young was the complete soundtrack to Walt Disney's Fantasia.

The old vinyl records of Leopold Stokowski's reworked versions of classics such as Stravinsky's awesome Rite Of Spring and Ponchielli's hilarious Dance Of The Hours came in a gorgeous collector's album cover with art from the film.

The year after Sean was born, I picked up the Fantasia trilogy DVD box set and tried out the brief Camille Saint-Saens' Carnival of the Animals segment from new Fantasia 2000 on him.

His tiny eyes couldn't get enough of those yoyo-flinging flamingos.

Then I pushed my luck and treated him to the lengthier Sorcerer's Apprentice from the original film.

He remained glued to the set for the whole 15 minutes or so as Mickey Mouse created an army of brooms to do his bidding.

The combination of classical music and the eye-poppingly colourful, classically-drawn animated images of Disney's masterpieces proved to be the perfect introduction to the world of sound and movement for Sean.

Surely, they helped cultivate in him an early appreciation for higher art forms and I hope that will translate into an increasing interest in the best film, music, literature and more as he grows older.

As such, I highly recommend both Fantasia and Fantasia 2000 for any infant, in measured doses, of course. The last thing you want to do is turn your child into a crib potato.

Obviously TV should not replace a book, or even Play Dough as your child's entertainment medium of choice either.

Jane Healy, author of Your Child's Growing Mind, on the other hand, told US News & World Report shortly after the debut of the Teletubbies in the United States, that one- to two-year-olds have too many developmental milestones to reach to become TV addicts.

'Banging spoons, stacking cups, squeezing mud - exploring the materials of the three-dimensional physical world - lay the foundation for the comprehension of math, science, and the appreciation of art,' she said.

But Ronald Slaby, a developmental psychologist at Harvard University who researched TV viewing in children as young as six months, discovered that well-researched children's programmes can be educational, even for toddlers.

The bottom line is to use TV, DVDs and CDs in moderation just as you would any teaching tool - including school at such young ages. Give your children plenty of room to explore the world on their own.

Then when you do want to introduce them to film and music, choose carefully.

Much of what passes for kids' stuff today, from Shrek to Spongebob Squarepants, is aimed more at getting their parents into cinemas and toy stores than at entertaining, let alone educating, your youngest.

Kenn Viselman, who made a merchandising hit of the excellent Thomas The Tank Engine shows, told US News And World Report: 'The pacing of children's shows before was getting faster and faster. Very young children weren't able to keep up, and they were becoming confused and less satisfied.'

That's why my son's shelves are filled with more of the classics I grew up with than new music, movies and cartoons aimed at the attention-challenged MTV generation. Back then, people sat down and slowly digested a film instead of gulping it down like popcorn.

Now when Sean reaches for a CD, he's as likely to select the Beatles as Outkast's Hey Ya.

When he wants to watch a DVD, he chooses The Wizard of Oz, Sesame Street, Yellow Submarine and Gene Kelly more often than Treasure Planet, Astroboy or even Finding Nemo.

At the end of any day, I'd rather he make funny faces while his tongue trips over 'Moses supposes his toeses are roses' than find him falling on the floor and rolling around mumbling 'eh-oh'.