I’ve extolled the virtues of my FSITWWW previously and it’s
one of my most-read blog posts. (Interestingly, no one has ever left a comment.
Perhaps I’ve disturbed my readers.) I’ve decided to add another post after one
of the guys I’m dating made some disparaging comments about the show.
What?! Did I just write “one of the guys I’m dating”? As in
more than one living and breathing man? Yes. The total is two. And there is a
third date in the works with each of them. This would be the time for me to run
out and buy a lottery ticket, too.
And a second What?! I’m
still dating a guy who spoke negatively of my FSITWWW? Yes. Even with another
man on deck, I know how rare encore dates are for me. Clearly, I’m cutting him
a great deal of slack.
To be honest, his comments were on point. He is, after all,--oh,
what’s the sophisticated term?—a smartypants. Ph.D and all that.
And let’s go on one more tangent, shall we? No, I did not
bring up my FSITWWW. Not directly. We were simply sitting in the movie theatre,
waiting for the onslaught of advertising to cease before seeing the achingly
wonderful “Carol”, when I asked, “Do you have a favorite Christmas movie or TV
show?”
“Interesting question,” he said while pensively scratching
his chin as smartypants are prone to doing. “Well, not ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’
and not ‘Miracle on 34th Street’. Those Claymation TV shows are
interesting…”
Ooh, I tried not to squirm in my seat.
“…Like Rudolph—”
Yes!
“—although it’s so American.”
Saying something is so
American is an easy way for a Canadian to toss out a putdown. As in Having a gun in every drawer of your house
is so American or Treating the
Kardashians as royalty is so American. (Never mind that we’re the country
that gave the world Alan Thicke, Pamela Anderson and Justin Bieber. Sorry,
sorry and Sorry. I have to admit the Biebs has some catchy tunes out
now.)
But smartypants explained himself. “It’s the way the
characters talk.” Uh,…okay. I just nodded. His Ph.D is in linguistics, after
all. “And it’s all so heterosexist.”
I could not let that go with a nod. I piped up, “Sure Santa
is. His chosen reindeer have to be of a certain caliber. And the adult bucks,
Donner and Comet, are both intolerant of Rudolph. Furthermore, Donner refuses
Mrs. Donner’s offer to help search for the runaway Rudolph with a curt, ‘No.
This is man’s work.’”
If I’d had my wits about me, I would have paraphrased
instead of offering the exact quote. There is such a thing as Too Much
Information on a second date. And then I went on to explain how Santa and the
adult male reindeer are subordinate characters, foils even, along with those
you-can’t-join-in-any-reindeer-games young ’uns.
“Rudolph” is about the acceptance and triumph of the odd
ducks. It’s that classic theme about being special just the way you are.
Rudolph. Hermey. Yukon Cornelius. The Jack-in-the-box named Charlie. Even the
woefully misunderstood and nightmare-inducing Abominable Snow Monster. (Well,
he caused me many a bad sleep.)
The one character that confuses me is Burl Ives’ Sam the
Snowman, a solitary figure, a dapper gent—a mature bachelor!—with a
well-groomed mustache and goatee and a snazzy plaid vest that sports a chain
from which dangles a stylish pocket watch. I had him pegged for gay, but maybe
he’s still more closeted than the younger generation of misfits. Sam isn’t very
sympathetic of Hermey the Elf and his aspirations of being a dentist. Hermey is
ridiculed by the other elves and quits. Sam dismissively says, “Ah, well, such
is the life of an elf.”
Donner may be the worst. From the beginning, he is insistent
that his son Rudolph will be a normal reindeer, immediately deciding to hide
the illicit red nose. Even Sam the Snowman refers to the Donners hiding “Rudolph’s,
um…nonconformity.” If Donner is intolerant, Santa isn’t much better. Truth is,
Santa comes off badly in the production. The elves seem to irritate him with
their singing. When Rudolph outshines the other young bucks, flying through the
air, Rudolph’s talent becomes irrelevant when his red nose is exposed. This
glaring difference is unacceptable. Santa’s intolerance is clear when he
admonishes Rudolph’s father: “Donner, you should be ashamed of yourself. What a
pity. He had a nice takeoff, too.”
And, after my command viewing this year, the heterosexism is
more evident. (I was always more drawn to all the misfits.) Why, it’s Comet,
the adult buck, who takes the lead in excluding Rudolph! “From now on, gang,”
he tells the young bucks, “we won’t let Rudolph join in any reindeer games.”
And then there’s Sam’s flippant response as narrator after it seems that Yukon
(and his dogs which never even get a mention) died going over a cliff: “Well,
they are all very sad at the loss of their friend, but they realize that the
best thing to do is to get the women back to Christmas Town.” Ugh. Yes, my
smartypants date has reason for reticence over “Rudolph”.
1964. The show is a reflection of its time. (I love that it
premiered the year I was born!) It’s not that Donner, Comet and Santa are
admirable. They represent straight men from fifty-one years ago. Considering
the times, it’s even more glorious that Rudolph, Hermey and Yukon stand out.
They are special, even as regarded as misfits. These are the characters that
outshine the all-too-conventional others. Their “nonconformities” are what help
to save Christmas. And again, in an era before all that “It gets better”, gay
marriage and magazine covers with Ellen and Caitlyn, these stop-motion misfits
helped me through many of my darkest days, whenever they came in the year.
Favorite show, indeed!
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