A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

One approach to infusing religion in a film is to utilize a secular lens to keep overt religious content hidden such that only its messages that can be stated in a secular way come through. The basic values of a religion can be transmitted without specific religious belief-claims possibly turning off some viewers. Given the mass audience that a typical film can reach, the medium is a good means for presenting people with values that come out of religion but have their own intrinsic worth apart from the related religious belief-claims. Film can play a role, therefore, in enabling the values of a religion to survive the religion’s downfall. From watching the film, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (2019), a viewer would not know that Fred Rogers was an ordained Presbyterian minister. His wife says at one point in the film that Fred reads scripture and prays daily, but that is the only clue in the film that his religious faith is the source of his motivation for and messages on his show, “Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood.”

To be sure, Fred had a masters degree in child development, but as a very religious man, he was motivated apply Jesus’ teachings to kids. As he said on "The Charlie Rose Show," “What is essential is invisible to the eye.” Fred is quoting from the book, Le Petit Prince. Fred then elaborates: “What we see is rarely essential; what’s behind your face is what’s essential.” Charlie Rose then asks him, “What can’t we see about you that’s essential to you—to understanding you?” Fred replies, “Well, you can’t see my spiritual life unless you ask me about it.”  Rather than pushing his faith on others, he let its fruits speak for themselves. Fred would likely agree with the biblical passage, “And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by men. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen.”[1] Before Fred taped each episode of “Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood,” he would quietly recite this short prayer: “Let some word that is heard be thine.”[2] The thine refers to God. Rogers saw himself as a conduit rather than the source of his messages broadcasted on his long-running television show. He believed that the Holy Spirit would make up for his shortfalls in getting the messages out.[3]

Fred Rogers once said that his ministry was the “broadcasting of grace throughout the land.”[4] Grace is a vague word. It is what God gives to people without them meriting it. According to Shea Tuttle, author of Exactly as You Are: The Life and Faith of Mister Rogers, “It’s not like he had a covert theological mission, but religion was so much a part of who he was that it was always there.”[5] Tuttle adds that the message that God loves us just the way we are was at the heart of Fred’s theology.[6] Rogers said the central message of his television show, that you are loved just the way you are, is based on God’s concern for all creation.[7] God’s concern issues out in the Gospels as Jesus’ preaching on love as universal benevolence—caritas seu benevolentia universalis. On Fred Roger’s television show, the resulting secularized message to the viewers is that they are fine just as they are, so they need not do anything to prove themselves. “You don’t need to speak overtly about religion in order to get a message across,” Rogers once said.[8]

Unconditional acceptance makes intimacy possible. Television can be an intimate medium, Fred tells Charlie Rose on “The Charlie Rose Show.” Fred tells Charlie, “Jesus said to the people around him, please let the little people come up here; I want to learn from them; I want to be with them—these innocent people who make up the kingdom of heaven.” The intimacy that Fred wanted to establish with the children also reminded him of the Incarnation, wherein God comes close to humanity by God becoming flesh in Jesus Christ.[9] As every episode of “Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood” opens, Fred sings about wanting his viewers to be his neighbor, which means he is inviting them just as they are to be close to him. He does not mention Jesus’ view on children or the Incarnation. He is using his faith’s teachings rather than preaching about them explicitly.

In the film, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, the passage about Jesus and children is nowhere to be found, yet its meaning is one of the major themes of the movie: kids should be accepted as they are. At one point, Fred says that each person is precious. Precious to whom? Or what? The answer is left unstated. Generally speaking, the religious substratum of Fred’s spiritual life and its direct impact on his television show is hidden in the film under the language of secular psychology, though a few choice words from the religious lexicon present clues that Fred is motivated beyond being a therapist.

When Fred meets Lloyd, who has just had a physical fight with his father at his sister’s wedding, Fred’s message concerns forgiveness and anger management. The former is no stranger to Christian teachings. In the faith narratives, Jesus urges his followers to ask God to forgive their trespasses, as his followers have forgiven those who have trespassed against us. Jesus reminds his followers, “But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.”[10] But in the film, Fred leaves Jesus’ teachings out and instead tells Lloyd that it is difficult to forgive those people whom we love. Fred is referring to Lloyd’s difficulty in forgiving his father for running out on himself, his sister, and his mother when she was dying. When his father does finally apologize just before he dies, Lloyd has a muted reaction, as if he were just taking it all in. The family’s happy ending may imply that Lloyd has forgiven his father, but the question remains as to whether he has forgiven himself. The family’s happy ending may mean that he has done so by the end of the film. My point is that forgiveness is a religious term, and yet in the film, Fred Rogers does not present it as such. The same can be said of his concern for Lloyd.

Besides forgiveness, compassion is also salient in the film. Fred stresses the importance of empathy and kindness. It is no coincidence that Jesus of the Gospels says to his disciples, “I feel compassion for the people, because they have remained with me know three days and have nothing to eat.”[11] Also, in seeing the people, “he felt compassion for them, because they were distressed and dispirited like sheep without a shepherd.”[12] When Jesus went ashore, he “saw a large crowd, and felt compassion for them and healed their sick.”[13] Finally, “Moved with compassion, Jesus touched their eyes and immediately they regained their sight and followed him.”[14] Fred does not lecture Lloyd on Jesus’ view on the importance of compassion; instead, Fred follows Jesus’ lead by empathizing with Lloyd even just after the two men met. It is the compassion itself that is important, and it can be conveyed by the intimate medium of film by how concerned Fred is when Lloyd admits that his physical fight was with his father.

Fred’s emotional interest in Lloyd from when Lloyd discloses that he was in a fight closely resembles that of a pastor even though Fred does not discuss religion with Lloyd, but uses words familiar to psychology. Fred’s compassion goes beyond that of a therapist because his empathy is intense and sustained. As Fred’s manager, Bill, says to Lloyd, “You’re still here because Fred wants it.” It is no longer a matter of Lloyd’s interview with Fred; the story has become Lloyd’s family problems. Rather than standing back and being as objective as possible, Fred literally leans closer to Lloyd in a way that shows an emotional sensitivity that a spiritual person would have. That Fred’s wife, Joanne, tells Lloyd that Fred reads scripture and prays for people daily is a hint that the ordained minister rather than a child-development psychologist is at work.

To the extent that some viewers may not like explicit mention or visuals of a religious nature, translating such themes (e.g., teachings) into a secular language could extend the religion’s reception. Moreover, in a secular culture, this can result, in effect, in the religion being expanded and even extended temporally. For example, the value of not fighting back and helping nasty people (i.e., loving thy enemies) can be spread without mentioning that Jesus preaches love of neighbor and that Jesus is the Son of God. Some viewers may not believe that Jesus is the Son of God and yet be open to the value of helping those who insult and even attack them. Doing so can have intrinsic value that could survive even the demise of the religion. Should Jesus’ identity ever become a matter of myth, then Jesus’ message on how to treat other people could at least continue on, and even be woven into the fabric of a post-Christian society. By putting secular robes on religious content, films can demonstrate that such content be extracted from its religious moorings and thus have intrinsic value.  

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[1] Matthew 6:5-6.

[2] Daniel Burke, “Mr. Rogers Was a Televangelist to Toddlers,” CNN.com, November 19, 2019.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Ibid.

[10] Matthew 6:15.

[11] Matthew 15:32.

[12] Matthew 9:36.

[13] Matthew 14:14.

[14] Matthew 20:34.

Downton Abbey

Taking a story from a television series to a movie can present hurdles for screenwriters and directors, especially if they do not fully appreciate the qualitative differences between a movie and a television series. To be sure, well-crafted series such as Downton Abbey, The Crown, Game of Thrones, and House of Cards had narrowed the difference in terms of quality. Even so, a narrative limited to around two hours of play time is different than a narrative meant to be on-going. The financial resources are also more concentrated in the making of a film than an ongoing series (even if it ends after five or six years). I submit, therefore, that Julian Fellowes, the producer and screenwriter of both the Downton series and movie, erred in hiring a director of the series, Michael Engler, to direct the movie. Just because he had directed (just) four episodes of the series does not mean that he knew how to direct a movie. A seasoned movie director would have been a better choice.

That Fellowes did not replace a television director with a movie director is especially glaring given the salience of replacing a less-experienced or "lower" person (or entire staff!) with a more seasoned or "higher" one in the film's narrative. Robert Crawley, the Earl of Grantham, replaces Thomas Barrow, who just a year or so earlier had been promoted butler, with Mr. Carson, the retired seasoned butler, during the royal visit. Moreover, the palace replaces Downton servants with royal servants for the visit. Both moves make sense. 

Firstly, a house’s own cook (or aristocrat) could poison the king. Because one assassination attempt is highlighted in the movie, I’m not sure why Fellowes did not write the rationale into the script. Given that he did not, I’m not sure why he (and the director) did not give Mrs. Patmore, the Downton cook, more of a fit as she confronts a royal cook taking over the Downton kitchen.

Secondly, as the Downton staff is star-struck by the presence of the king and queen, and mistakes or gaffes are more likely if nerves are fraught. Mr. Molesley, for instance, is so nervous that he loses control of himself while serving the dinner table. The close proximity of the king and queen makes that situation so different from the usual that Molesley blurts out a secret and, when he realizes this, he curtsies to the royal couple.

Replacements, therefore, are salient in the film. Why, then, didn’t Julian Fellowes replace a television-series director (of Sex in the City, Six Feet Under, and 30 Rock) with a director having experience directing movies? Fellowes may have been impressed with Engler’s direction of four episodes of Downton Abbey, but being a good television director does not translate into being a seasoned movie director. To the extent that television is common and the movie genre as aristocratic (e.g., The Academy of Motion Pictures and its gold Oscar awards), Fellowes failed to grasp the upside in his replacement-motif in his screenplay. 

Julian Fellowes had written and acted in several films and television series. In fact, he received an Oscar for screenwriting on Gosford Park (2005). As he was no doubt knowledgeable in how writing for a series differs from screenwriting, I was surprised to find the dialogue pattern less extended in the film. As noted above, Mrs. Patmore’s rants are notably missing, especially with her kitchen being taken over by a foreigner. So too is Thomas Barrow’s scheming, which could be expected to make a brief return to protest the Earl of Grantham bringing back Mr. Carson as butler during the visit (only for Mr. Wilson of the palace to replace him!). Even given Carson’s penchant for hierarchy, it is too easy for Wilson—also a servant!—to take Carson down.

Gone too is the sibling rivalry between Lady Edith and Lady Mary—perhaps though because Mary respects her younger sister now that she is of a higher aristocratic rank. Character development and changed relationships since the series left off are good for the overall narrative, including that of the movie. This does not apply, however, to the truncated exchanges between the Dowager Countess (Violet Crowley) and Isobel Merton (mother of Lady Mary’s first husband). Indeed, the platitudes coming out of Violet’s mouth were fewer, less good, and even stilted. One platitude was even about saying platitudes! Had the two reached a meta-level?  I expected better platitudes in the movie than in the series. Moreover, Violet’s vitriol toward her cousin, who is refusing to make the Earl of Grantham her heir, seems muted. Maggie Smith could have shined. Also, Fellowes could have had the Earl of Grantham overhear his mother, the Dowager Countess, telling Lady Mary of the bad medical news, especially given that Violet tells her granddaughter that the fate of Downton Abbey is in her hands, rather than those of her father, Violet’s son, who presumably has done a lackluster job. A similar scenario wherein Robert is astonished at his mother is in the television series at several points.

In the movie, Robert Crowley, the earl, as well as his wife Cora have noticeably few lines and nothing dramatic. A good example is the truncated exchange in which Robert admits he is excited about the royal visit even if saying as much sounds common. His wife Cora, an American, replies that he can get away with making such a common statement to an American. None of the tension between Robert and Cora regarding her being an American exists, unlike in the series and yet nothing accounts for any resolution having occurred. The dialogue between the two is so short it comes off as stilted. You say something, then it’s my turn, rather than a conversation.

In short, the movie comes across as less well made than the series. Fellowes’ decision to use a television director and perhaps not enough work on the script itself were, I submit, problematic especially given that a movie rather than a television series was being made. It is as if someone took the air out of sails in the making of the movie. I expected better writing, especially given that Julian Fellowes had received an Oscar for screenwriting. I have sung in several choirs. I’ve been amazed at how different the actual concerts are from even the dress rehearsals, which are often better. The conductor, singers, and crew are typically so nervous during the concerts that everything seems rushed, and thus must impact the quality of the singing. I know I’ve taken fewer risks during concerts, and my air-flow is more restricted. I don’t “belt it out,” and am consequently less satisfied after a concert. The Downton crew, including the producer, director, screenwriter, and actors, must surely have been excited to make Downton into a movie, even though the screenwriter and many of the actors had worked in movies rather than merely television. In this case, the movie-making was compromised even relative to the television series.

The Television and Cinema Revolution: Virtual Reality and Holograms to Sideline UHD Curves

Ultimate high-definition, or UHD, which refers to television screens sporting at least four times the number of pixels as “mere” high-definition, goes beyond the capacity of the human eye. Hence, the potential problem in going beyond ultimate is moot; we could not visually discern any difference. Even so, I suspect this inconvenient detail would not stop people in marketing from primping the product as “beyond ultimate.” One unfortunate byproduct of such inventive marketing may ironically not be visible at all. Specifically, the illusionary distractions, or marketing mirages, come with an opportunity cost; that is, being suckered into seemingly exciting innovations can distract us from noticing other technological advances whose applications could alter entire industries and transform our daily lives.

At the International Consumer Electronics Show in January, 2014, Sony and Samsung showcased UDH televisions with curved screens. The “more immersive viewing” is possible only on larger screens; John Sciacca, an installer of audio/video, reports that at the small-screen level, the curved shape “has no advantage.”[1] Accordingly, the televisions with the option on display at the electronics show in Las Vegas, Nevada range from 55 to 105-inch screens.[2] The verdict there was mixed, the usual suspects playing their expected roles.

The 105-inch UHD television. Paragon of the 21st century?  (Image Source: Forbes)

Kaz Hirai, the CEO of Sony, insisted in an interview that “some people actually like [the curved screen] very much.”[3] He went on to add, “I personally think it’s a great experience because you do have that feeling of being a little bit more surrounded. . . . After you watch curved TV for a while and then you just watch a flat panel, it looks like, ‘What’s wrong with this panel?’”[4] In the midst of this vintage self-promotion, he did admit, as if as an afterthought, that the curved feature is “not for everyone.”[5]

John Sciacca would doubtless call the matter of preference an understatement. “For displays, at least, curved is a ‘marketing gimmick.’ I know that research has gone into finding the ideal curve for the ideal seating distance, but I think that it is still limiting its best results for a much narrower viewing position.”[6] That is, the curved shape can be counterproductive in settings where more than two or three people are sitting close together straining to capture the sweet spot of ideal viewing. To be sure, at that “dot” on a room diagram, Sciacca admits that the curved shape on big screens (i.e., 55-inch and up) “has real benefits for front projection as it has to do with how the light hits the screen at different points, and a curve helps with brightness uniformity and geometry.”[7] Granted, but who wants to do geometry in order to figure out where to sit?

Accordingly, the curved screen “seems like a marketing thing,” rather than anything “substantive,” says Kurt Kennobie, the owner of an audio-video store in Phoenix.[8] Kaz Hirai would doubtless disagree, at least publically. The usual trajectory of public attention would simply follow this debate back and forth, treating it as though it were a riveting tennis match. The fans getting their adrenaline fix would hardly notice the progress being made in a potentially transformative rather than incremental technology applicable to television and cinema. This invisible cost in chasing after minor points lies, in other words, in missing the big picture, which in this case involves a developing technology that leaps over the “curved” controversy entirely.

What exactly is this so-called revolutionary technology? It already exists, in gaming, which incidentally already merges movie and video-game features, and here’s the key, applied as “virtual reality.” Lest the philosophers among us just caught a whiff of metaphysics, the “reality” to which I refer is simply a novel way of viewing visuals such as video games. The viewing is provided by a headset. 

For example, Avegant’s head-mounted Glyph sports a “virtual retina display.” The devise “makes use of a couple million tiny mirrors—similar to the technology found in DLP projectors—to project a 720p [pixel] image straight onto your retina. The result is a stereoscopic 3D display that has almost zero crosstalk and no noticeable pixelation.”[9] In other words, suddenly the “curved vs flat” debate is obsolete, or trumped, as though by an interloper.

Moreover, the application of Glyph to watching television and movies could marginalize (though I suspect not eliminate) screens, whether in homes or movie theaters. That’s right, the cinemas would face a stiff headwind, and therefore likely be forced to concentrate on their comparative advantage—the “ultra” big screen. I suspect that experience would survive, for people would probably not want to confine all viewing to one mode. Indeed, even the “virtual reality” means of great immersion might have to contend with an even newer mode of viewing—that of the hologram. 

Needless to say, both means would mean changes to how films are written, shot, and edited. Perhaps a given film would have screen, virtual reality, and holograph versions, which at least in the case of virtual reality might involve alternative storylines allowing for viewer choice. A person could ask, for example, “How would the narrative play out were this or that character to die rather than live?”

With the increasing modes of viewing, the world as we know it in the 2010’s could change in such a marked way. In fact, people living in 2100 might look back on 2014 akin to how people in 2000 looked back on the automobile, telephone, and electric light dramatically changing daily life in the 1910’s.  The new viewing applications, along with the development of the internet and mobile devises, could distinguish the 2010’s in retrospect, and, moreover, the twenty-first century from the previous one. Known in its day as the century of technological change, the twentieth century could yet lose its mantle to a century in which mankind is cured of death, barring an accident or natural disaster. Change is relative, which is precisely my point concerning virtual reality and curved screens. Perhaps human perspective is itself curved in a way that only the most transient and titillating image lies in the “sweet spot.”

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[1] Mike Snider, “Finding the Sweet Spot of Curved Displays,” USA Today, January 10, 2014.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Ibid.

[9] USA Today, “Editors’ Choice Awards,” January 10, 2014. I should note that I have no financial interest in Avegant or the Glyph. I am merely using this product to make a broader point.