He is the
cutest little mouse, wide-eyed and innocent, wearing a red Russian
peasant shirt with his soft blue hat slightly atilt. And for $3.95,
he can be yours this week on E-bay.
Fivel was the
American sensation in 1986, the hero of An American Tale, a
spectacular Disney animated feature cartoon. At the time our kids
were four and six, and it seemed like the perfect family outing.
Anticipation
was high as movie theater lights dimmed and the music began. Louder
and louder, the music pounded as we squinted to make out dark
sinister creatures slinking and skulking around what appeared to be
an evil ship tossing wildly about in a raging storm. Out of the
darkness, small mouse eyes popped open in fear. Drums pounded,
lightening crashed and fangs big enough to drool over the entire
movie screen snapped down over the horrified eyes.
Mice shrieked
in terror. And a scream rose from the chair next to me. “Mommy,”
my son cried. “I want to go.” Another larger-than-life cat
screeched in the dark, and Justin pulled on my arm. “Now.”
Suffice it to
say, my husband stayed to watch the movie with our daughter. Justin
and I left the “room of doom” and spent two hours instead at Pier
Imports playing with sea shells and beads and furniture.
I learned an
important lesson about cartoons that day. There are cartoons. And
THERE ARE CARTOONS.
It used to be
enough to make a cute little cartoon to entertain children. In the
early days of television, while Bugs battled with Elmer Fudd,
parents cooked dinner in the next room. Cartoons were for little
kids.
Not any
longer. Matt Groening was one of the first to break into popular
culture with the “crass charm” of “Life in Hell,” featuring a rabbit
called Blinky who lived “on the dark side of life.” Seeing the
potential for a wider audience, he gave Blinky a family…the Simpsons.
In 1989, Fox
commissioned 13 episodes of The Simpsons. Bart was originally the
main character, an anagram of “Brat.” However, after two seasons,
Homer emerged as the viewers’ favorite.
Three years
after Bart and Homer arrived in family living rooms around the
country, Michael Medved published
Hollywood
vs.
America:
Popular Culture and Traditional American Values.
The Simpsons were a prime example illustrating his message…”that the
entertainment business follows its own dark obsessions.” Medved’s
alarm fell on deaf ears.
In 1993,
trying to teach fifth-graders American history, I overheard two boys
trading insults. “Butt-head!” My ears turned red. I was
indignant. I launched into a teacher sermon on manners and
consideration and language.
The kids in
the class started laughing. All of them. “But Mrs. Jimenez,” the
offender protested, “it’s on television. It’s a TV show.” I
couldn’t believe it. Beavis and Butt-Head were the MTV sensation of
the year, and I had no way to convince the kids that they were being
rude and crude.
Not to be
outdone, in 1997, Comedy Central aired the first episode of a
cartoon created by Matt Stone and Trey Parker. Touted as a series
for big kids…its stories
satirized American culture, challenged deepset convictions and
taboos, and quite often topped everything off “with a thick coat of
black humor.” It was also a hit with kids…of the little kind.
Cartoons used
to be for little kids. And that has made cartoons a perfect tool
for big kids. Michael Medved’s message rings more and more true all
the time. “Hollywood ignores--and assaults--the values of ordinary
American families, pursuing a self-destructive and alienated
ideological agenda that is harmful to the nation at large and to the
industry's own interests.”
It is no
wonder that cartoons form the center of a new controversy in
America. Poor SpongeBob. It’s not his fault. But he doesn’t get
to plead innocence just because he’s a cartoon.
In the world
of modern marketing where big kids want to reach the hearts of
little kids…cartoons provide access. For those who want to reach
the heart of the matter, they must take the time to ask the right
questions.
Yes, SpongeBob
is a cartoon. But what is he saying and who is he saying it to?
Big kids? Or little kids?
