According to an official press release, the Walt Disney Company has just acquired the film studio Lucasfilm LTD for approximately 4 billion dollars and has announced its immediate intent to release the seventh, eighth and ninth installments of the Star Wars movie franchise starting in 2015.

The original Star Wars trilogy, released between 1977-1983, became an unprecedented pop culture phenomenon, and is universally praised as one of the greatest film trilogies of all time. Anchored by stellar acting performances, strong writing, and (at the time) groundbreaking special effects, the series tapped into a societal mythos, and captured the imagination of multiple generations.

After a nearly 20-year wait and a mountain of hype, the much-derided Prequel Trilogy, released between 1999-2005, was universally panned for terrible dialogue, wooden acting, and an overabundance of CGI.

The consensus on the failure of those films (aside from the soul-crushing creation of Jar Jar Binks) was that all three were written and directed by series creator George Lucas, who had neither written nor directed a movie since the original Star Wars, and had spent the previous three decades as a producer and businessman.

Imagine what the Prequel Trilogy might have looked like if it were written by David S. Goyer (The Dark Knight) or Frank Darabont (The Shawshank Redemption)?  What if it had been directed by J.J. Abrams (Star Trek), Joss Whedon (The Avengers), James Cameron (Avatar) or all three?  Well, that’s what the Sequel Trilogy will look like.

The Walt Disney Company, after having just assembled the myriad of creative talent to create the Marvel Avengers movies, seems poised to do the exact same to the Star Wars franchise with one crucial ingredient:  the blessing of Lucas.

“It’s now time for me to pass Star Wars on to a new generation of filmmakers,” said Lucas.  “I’ve always believed that Star Wars could live beyond me, and I thought it was important to set up the transition during my lifetime.

The most exciting news is that the latest installment, occurring sequentially after 1983’s Return of the Jedi, heralds the probable return of Mark Hamill as an older Luke Skywalker who’s ready to pass on the torch to a new generation of Jedi Knights. It’s also possible that Hamill, who’s had a successful voice-acting career, may reprise an animated version of the role, since Disney has also announced plans for a television series. There is a very real possibility that Pixar, a subsidiary of the Walt Disney Company, could create an animated television series about Luke Skywalker leading the pilots of Rogue Squadron in between episodes 4 and 5, starring the voice talents of Mark Hamill! (Heads of Star Wars mega fans the world over explode.)

As the prequels have shown, new Star Wars movies have the potential to provide massive disappointment to legions of dedicated fans, but the emergence of new inspired filmmakers and the potential return of Luke Skywalker brings new hope to a franchise which had turned to the dark side.

–Dash Gordon

Pictured: Rodrigo, Photo by Alissa Fleck

An Elmo impersonator was arrested and subsequently hospitalized Sunday outside the Central Park Zoo for shouting, among other things, anti-Semitic obscenities at passersby.

(by Alissa Fleck)

An investigation into Elmo’s background uncovered the man, who gave the name Adam Sandler, formerly ran a Cambodian pornography site. Additionally, Gothamist revealed Elmo-gone-crazy-in-the-park is by no means an isolated incident.

The Wall Street Journal reported last fall the men and women who don these cartoon costumes for tips are frequently undocumented workers who speak little, if any, English. One could transform “from an undocumented immigrant from Peru whose grasp of English is tenuous to perhaps the most iconic American character of all time, Mickey Mouse,” reported the same article.

Many of the workers told the WSJ the job was preferable to other comparable jobs because people would touch, hug and even kiss them, rather than acting like they didn’t exist.

I visited Times Square, where the vast majority of fuzzy cartoon characters in NYC congregate (due to legality issues and tourist activity), with the hope of seeing how others in the business thought the industry might be affected by the recent Elmo incident.

I approached four separate Elmos, and one Cookie Monster conversing with an Elmo, all of whom were non-English speakers or were more forthcoming with cuddly pats than answers. The “conversations” were repeatedly interrupted by groups wanting pictures, which the characters were more than happy to oblige. After each picture, they would hold socks open for a tip, and hang their oversized heads in mock dismay if tourists did not pay up.

I finally offered one Elmo a dollar to answer questions, per his insistence, but once I’d handed over the cash, he would not answer or respond to requests for his name. None of the Elmos indicated they had heard of the arrest.

Andres, disguised as Spongebob, said he had purchased his costume at the store himself and had not heard of the arrest either. As I approached a solitary Mickey Mouse, he was playfully roughed up by a man whose pants were around his knees.

The greatest concentration of fuzzy characters was gathered outside the Times Square Toys R’ Us.

I finally made a breakthrough speaking to one Elmo named Rodrigo, from Ecuador, currently residing in Patterson. When asked how he came into this job and his costume, he responded with unintelligible, high-pitched, cartoonish squeaks. I repeated the question and he again squeaked. When I asked a third time, he said in a low, if frustrated, voice: “I know somebody.”

Rodrigo said he had not heard about the arrest, but seemed concerned about the incident. “What happened to the guy in Central Park?” he asked. Rodrigo said he makes $50 to $60 a day and only works in front of the Toys R Us. He has not been doing this long and does not currently have another job.

While talking to Rodrigo, a Hello Kitty approached. “She does not speak English,” Rodrigo said. I asked if they knew each other and he said they were friends.

I then asked if he likes his job: “No, but we need the money,” he said. He does like kids though.

More Hello Kittys meandered over, seeking out hugs, while a Shrek and Puss-in-Boots, seemingly working as a team, patted passing children. A security guard immediately inside Toys R Us said the fuzzy characters are not allowed into the store.

A Hello Kitty approached a man selling comedy tickets for a hug. “Who’s in there, Kitty?” he asked. “Is that a Chinese woman? I’m not a tourist. You wanna buy a comedy ticket?”

Erica, a teenage tourist visiting the city with her mother, hugged and took a picture with Rodrigo-as-Elmo.

When asked if she was ever “weirded out” by who might be in the costume, she replied: “Sometimes.” She also said she would not hug a random stranger on the street who was not in costume.

Greg Wrigley, a tourist from West Virginia, has two daughters and a grandson. He was visiting the Toys R Us with children from his church and said they had taken pictures with the characters. When asked how he felt about not knowing who was inside the costume, he said: “I do wonder who’s really in there. Is it a boy or girl? A child or adult? It doesn’t bother me one way or the other.

“When they put on the costume, they’re no longer a person,” he said. “They become a character. You expect them to take on the character.

“I think you trust whoever hires them,” added Wrigley. When asked how he would feel to know many of the characters were not hired, but in fact purchased the costumes themselves, Wrigley seemed surprised by the possibility. (The WSJ reported these workers do not need a license, and the Elmo incident reveals they are by no means vetted.)

“I guess that’s possible,” he said. “But [bad] behavior would give them away. If they grabbed someone inappropriately, they’d be beaten half to death, at least where I come from they would. I don’t know about here.”

As Wrigley spoke, a nearby Minnie and Mickey each swung a baby into the air for a family picture.

Right there, whenever you like, on your browser, iPhone or iPad. Yes.
Let’s be real: Nobody but Nielsen families watches TV on a television set anymore. I bet so few people watch “TV” TV that only a few of you understood my killer Nielsen family joke!

To be honest, who has time to sit around and watch the tube? Most of it’s not must-see; if it is—trust me—some bar in Williamsburg has a theme night for it. Not to mention how totally unhip it is to actually watch TV these days. We all know kids these days are watching the Internet just like the rest of us. If you are watching TV, it’s likely you’re using a DVR to do it, which is sort of what Aereo is about.

All the way back in 2009, Vishesh Kumar and Sam Schechner reported in the Wall
Street Journal, “The Supreme Court declined to hear a challenge to a new type of digital video recorder from Cablevision Systems Corp., [which set] the stage for wider use of the technology.” That, of course, was the good ol’ Cablevision DVR Plus; much lauded for not requiring a small object in a room but derided for being unfathomably
slow in the beginning. When Cablevision launched their bright idea, a slew of networks sued them too. Cablevision hired a lawyer and won their case—no spoilers, but Aereo just hired the same one.

The original defense rested on the fact that DVR Plus members were basically doing the same thing TiVo lets you do: recording content that anybody with an antenna and a TV has free access to. Every recording was saved to an individual’s own private virtual DVR storage. It’s very much like when Universal and Disney sued Sony
because the Betamax was considered an evil piracy device. Aereo is is likely to use the Cablevision defense because their whole system works by allotting members their own private pair of micro-antennae located on the company’s Brooklyn rooftop— in effect, you’re paying Aereo to hold on to your antenna for you.

Like millions and millions of my contemporaries, to me, the Internet equals an Absolutely Everything Machine. If it’s not on the Internet, I don’t know about it. Even if it is on the Internet, if it’s not in the cheap-to-free price range, I actually do not want it. Aereo’s $12/month price is not bad at all. If you add in the price of monthly Netflix and Hulu Plus accounts, the price tag for your TV diet is still way less than my grandfather pays for cable. After an extended Beta, Aereo launched for New York residents on March 14th. New users get a 90-day free trial. Their website looks nice and the video quality is just fine when you’re watching it live—that’s right: live streaming video.

All this actually-on-the-air-right-now content reminded me of what a huge letdown it was back in the day when there was “nothing on!” But with Aereo, I flipped ahead in the guide a bit, set it to record 30 Rock, did things, came back at 9 p.m. and was actually giddy! To think, my very own, brand-new episode of 30 Rock saved snug in my 40 hours of DVR storage space on the Aereo cloud and—What?! Under the Recordings tab, I found
a friendly, devil-red line of text that read: “Not recorded: System error.”

I felt feelings then that I hadn’t felt since I once forgot to put a new VHS tape
in for the Star Trek: The Next Generation series finale. There’s bound to be issues at first. And an episode of Seinfeld and an airing of the Addams Family movie recorded just fine later on.

Broadcasters need to stop and take stock of their industry. Here is another example, of many, of a business model showing us that the future of television is not allergic to revenue. But still, these clunky old brands are so afraid of reality that they’ve become incapable of taking all this money I’ve got sitting around.

Services like Aereo could be a non-candy lifesaver for these guys. All of the ingredients are there: TV, Internet, willing consumers and money. And think of how much more in touch networks would be with all the data available from a web audience. Instead of spending cash picking on the new kids, legacy media outfits might consider a few smart investments.

Don’t be afraid of working together to make life easier for consumers.
How do you get your sitcoms? Think the plaintiffs are right? Let us know at nypress.com!
Follow @44carib on Twitter, just because.

Set in 1920s New Orleans (slick evocation of Hurricane Katrina guilt), The Princess and the Frog pairs a working-class black girl, Tiana, and upper-class white girl, Lottie—both kids indoctrinated into romantic fantasy (read to by Oprah Winfrey’s voice), yet living on separate social paths. Tiana works toward her late father’s dream of owning a restaurant while Lottie’s rich dad coddles her. Excited by the myth that kissing a frog will win them happiness, Tiana is also taught, “You got to help it along with hard work of your own.”
There’s no mention of Jim Crow (America’s separate but unequal social practice—in effect even when Disneyland first opened); instead, this “family film” sanitizes history, treating Louisiana’s ethnic complexity like a Mardi Gras theme park. As young women, Tiana and Lottie compete for the visiting Prince Naveen of Maldonia who, cursed by local hoodoo man Dr. Facilier, is turned into a frog. When Naveen kisses Tiana, she is also transformed into a Disney animal character—and stays that way for 80 percent of the movie.
This narrative allows Disney to maintain the primacy of its classic white fantasy heroines: Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, The Little Mermaid and the recently restored (remastered) Snow White. Tiana isn’t truly allowed into Disney’s canon. Because this animated heroine is a frog, the movie does not confer a modicum of idealized beauty or grace on a black girl’s countenance. She’s primarily shown as different, alien, from another-species. Ethnicity becomes a source for novelty musical sequences—ersatz Jazz and Zydeco and glittery pastel Josephine Baker abstractions for the “I’m Almost There” number that seem prefabricated for eventual transferal as
Broadway/voodoo-culture jamboree.
Tiana’s green frog status shows less acceptance, less “post-racial” sophistication, than the animated heroines of Mulan and Pocahontas. This is how Disney betrays its own promise; the studio has recently demonstrated admirable corporate responsibility in the way lessons about race, gender and class parity were seamlessly staged in Disney Channel products like the very good but underrated High School Musical, Jump In and Freestyle. These innocent utopias used charming comedy and touching drama to impart effectively progressive social lessons.
The Princess and the Frog doesn’t take those risks. Its hypocrisy is hidden inside a disingenuous promotional campaign that suggests change has come to Disney’s animated white house. Fact is, a treacherous reproof of classic civil rights values is apparent in the film’s messages: 1) The customary bootstrap bromides favoring struggle over Dr. Martin Luther King-like dreaming; the evil Dr. Facilier (as in facile) isn’t a hardworker, he flaunts a business card motto “Dreams Made Real.” 2) Facilier is characterized as threateningly effete like Scar in The Lion King. 3) Prince Naveen is not an African dignitary but—to paraphrase Berlusconi on Obama—a vaguely tanned foreigner. He’s drawn exactly like the bland WASP heroes of earlier Disney cartoons—and still fetishizing royalty.
Cartoons for children also subtly instruct adults—or at least reveal buried fears. The subplot where Naveen’s resentful assistant conspires with Dr. Facilier and assumes the Prince’s identity pokes fun at his physiognomy—big nose, ears and posterior that promote a basically racist distaste. This metamorphosis/punishment points to the film’s essential failure: Its envy-green heroine
prevents imagining or desiring blackness—except as victims or villains.
Tiana represents slight progress from the practice of imputing black-ethnic characteristics for secondary animated characters as with Jiminy Cricket in Pinocchio, the crab in The Little Mermaid or the lizard in Mulan. Yet, Tiana’s insipid frog exploits reveal no special subcultural intelligence or ingenuity such as the Joel Chandler Harris creatures in Disney’s fascinating, misunderstood and ready-for-revival Song of the South. Those creatures were historically, authentically,
enlighteningly black, but this disingenuous Princess is a toad.

The Princess and the Frog
Directed by Ron Clements & John Musker
Runtime: 97 min.