|
My Week with Play With Me Sesame April 15 - 19, 2002
Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday
Synergy Sesame Monday, April 15
Oh, good! You're all here! I've been waiting for you. This week, I'm going to be watching Play With Me Sesame, the new interactive Sesame spin-off. And guess what? I'm going to be watching it with all of you! Are you ready? Great!
Well, to start with, there's a bunch of circles. Get used to circles, kids, we're gonna see a lot of them this week. There's all these circles with the letters that make up the name of the show, and then there's four circles with the main characters inside -- Ernie, Bert, Prairie Dawn and Grover. Grover shouts "Hello everee-bodeeee!" and then all the circles sort of bounce around, and they play a groovy version of "Somebody Come and Play," and they all appear and sing, and then they're in circles again, and...
Wait. I'm not describing this right. Let's get interactive.
Okay, everybody out there -- put your hand on the mouse! Is your hand on the mouse? Good! Now click on this link. Did you click on the link? Great! Now you can see what the show looks like. See the circles? That's what I'm talking about. The show and the website were designed to work together seamlessly, so kids can go straight from the TV to the computer to keep playing with the Muppets.
This is the deal. It didn't work when they tried to make websites act like TV shows (see: MuppetWorld), so now they're making TV shows that act like websites. Welcome to Synergy Sesame.
(By the way, speaking of websites: Have you noticed all the big circles on the new redesign of the Henson.com site? Looks to me like the web designers had a 2-for-1 sale. Let this be a lesson to us: When you're shopping for web design, always pay retail. It's worth it.)
So, anyway. Brave new world it is. You may have noticed when you were clicking around on the site -- (You did click around on the site, didn't you? Of course you did.) -- so you may have noticed that this is new-school Sesame, with Steve Whitmire as Ernie, and Eric Jacobson as Bert and Grover. I've written about Steve's Ernie and Eric's Grover before -- see the raves about Steve's Ernie in My Week with Sesame Street and Eric's Grover in My Week with Sesame 2.0. (Hey, more links. Interact with me!) Eric's Bert is not quite as good as his Grover. I mean, he's fine. He's funny. But when I see Steve's Ernie, I don't think of him as Steve's Ernie. He's just Ernie. Ditto with Eric's Grover, who's definitely just Grover. But Eric's Bert is still a bit jarring for me. Maybe I just need some more time to get used to him.
But here's what they're doing together. Bert enters and looks for Ernie. He turns to us. "Have you seen Ernie?" Well, yeah, like two seconds ago, during the theme song. Ernie appears -- hanging upside down from the ceiling. "I'm up here, Bert! Hello down there!" Bert tells Ernie to get down before he hurts himself... so Ernie says, okay, Bert! and turns the screen around -- so now Ernie is right side up, and Bert is upside down. Bert is put out by this, as naturally he would be. Then Ernie announces that we're going to play a game of Ernie Says together, and it's going to be all about up and down. Ready to play? Bert is still hanging from the ceiling. Ernie tells us to stand up. Ernie Says: Put your thumbs up! Bert complains: "Ernie! You know I'm afraid of heights." Ernie ignores him. Ernie Says: Put your thumbs down! Bert looks around. "I think the blood is rushing to my head." Ernie Says: Look up! He looks up at Bert. "Gee, Bert! Whatcha doin' up there?" There's a rimshot. A real live actual sincere rimshot.
All interactivity jokes aside, this is good stuff. This is classic type Ernie and Bert stuff. And when was the last time you watched a TV show that had a rimshot? This is just straight-up good television.
Then there's an old Sesame clip with Grover talking to a little girl named Morgan, who helps him name body parts. "Where is my nose?" Right here. "And where is my mouth?" Right there. "Very good. Where are my cute, attractive arms?" Goodness. This is so cute. Then Morgan lifts up her shirt and shows Grover her bellybutton.
We are now four minutes into the show. Already this has gotten so cute I think I may never recover.
Next up is Prairie Dawn's art show segment, which starts with a song that is so excellent that I fear I will not be able to do it justice. Prairie is playing her piano, and she's playing that same little tune that she always plays for her pageants. And this is what she sings:
Hello, dear play friends My name is Prairie Dawn I would like to share with you Some things you have drawn!
So let me present Without further ado A Play With Me art show That stars lots of YOU!
Then she shows a bunch of pictures that kids drew. But that's not the point. The point is that that first verse makes me happier than I ever thought possible. The rhyme of "Prairie Dawn" with "things you've drawn"... It's just perfect. Sing that song to yourself as you go to bed and have sweet, funny dreams all night. This is minute five.
Okay, I don't have time to go through this entire thing and tell you every little moment that makes me smile. I mean, I do, but you won't read it, so why bother. But there's more little clips from Sesame Street -- a Bert and Ernie sketch, Grover singing "My Furry Little Shadow," an Ernie and Cookie Monster sketch. There's some little clips of kids playing instruments and dancing. Bert plays an Oatmeal Art computer game that's actually on the website. And there's not one single boring cartoon about clouds. It's all Muppets, all the time.
But I'm going to skip to Grover's segment, which is the dancing and moving around part. Grover runs in: "Hey, evereee-bodeeeee!" I love that part. "It is your mooo-ving and groooo-ving monster Grover here!" That's growing on me too. "I am so excited, because today we are going to jump to a special song all about jumping! But -- it is impossible to jump in the sitting down position!" He gets us to stand up, so we can jump with him. They roll a song from Sesame Street about jumping, and Grover appears over it -- jumping, commenting on the song, singing along, getting us to jump along with him. "Now flap your arms like a birdie!" He starts getting tired, but he keeps jumping. "Oh, my little tootsies!"
Grover's relieved as the song ends -- he's exhausted and needs to rest. But then Ernie, Bert and Prairie Dawn enter, jumping: Boingy boingy boing! Ernie asks why Grover isn't jumping. Grover explains that he has jumped his last jump. Ernie asks if Grover wants to play just one more game of Ernie Says. Grover nods: "For you, Ernie... okay." Ernie starts the game. Ernie Says: Everybody jump! And Jacobson executes a classic Grover faint. Top marks from the judges.
And there you have it. If you love the Sesame Muppets, this is a very easy show to love. But where's the challenge in that? Tune in tomorrow to find out what I hate about it. You will? Great! See you tomorrow, play friends!
Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday
Flop Sweat Sesame Tuesday, April 16
All right, play friends. Let's come to order. Today we're going to watch another episode of Play With Me Sesame, and find something about it that we hate. Is everybody ready?
On the face of it, it doesn't seem like a hard proposition. After all, it's "interactive TV." It sounds dreadful. I mean, they're all running around, flapping their arms and barking orders at us. Sing this! Draw that! Touch your toes! Isn't this FUN? It's boot camp with Muppets.
I mean, back in my day, we'd do anything the Muppets told us. We'd quit school and join a commune if they asked us to. But that was a gentler, more innocent time. I have to imagine that the preschoolers of today are cynical and hard-bitten three year olds, sneering and throwing cheese doodles at the screen. This is basically how I picture it:
Grover: Is everybody ready to DANCE?
Three year old: Not especially, no.
Grover: Terrific! Now everybody GET UP! On your feet!
Three year old: I don't really feel like it.
Grover: Great! Start the MUSIC!
Three year old: God, you're an idiot.
I mean, it's horrifying when you think of it. There's Eric Jacobson in a TV studio somewhere, Grovering his little blue heart out, while a nation of three year olds yawn and heckle. It's every performer's worst nightmare. It's Flop Sweat Sesame.
But gosh darn it if they aren't willing to get back on that horse every single morning. Here comes Ernie, playing Duckie Says with Rubber Duckie. The jaded three year olds roll their eyes and order another drink. Then there's an old Sesame clip, with Grover telling us that he wants to look at our nose.
Then it's time for Prairie Dawn's art show. She plays the little tune on her piano. Remember this part? Hello, dear play friends, etc. Seen it! say the three year olds. But then Prairie growls, "CHECK THIS OUT!" and gets all Jerry Lee Lewis on the piano. She cuts out with a blues riff.
So what are we waiting for? I really don't know! YEAHHH! Let's see your drawing, and let's Get on with the SHOWWW!
She shows us some drawings, and when they cut back to Prairie, she's wearing sunglasses. She finishes with a loud piano roll. "Thank you! Thank you! Good NIGHT, everybody! I'll be here all week."
Wow. Dag. I didn't see that coming.
Then there's another old Sesame clip, with Kermit teaching us how to draw a triangle on the screen with our "magic pointy finger." He lifts up his finger. "Now. What we will do. We're going to start at the top here, and then when I go, one two three, zzzzzk, we will draw a line down here to this corner here, and then we're gonna go across the bottom to this corner here, and then we're gonna go back up to the top, back where we started, back up to the top, like that. Okay?" Okay. Well, I can't hate this part. This is Henson. You can't hate Henson. It's just not possible.
And we get another chance not to hate Henson a few minutes later, because they show the old sketch where Ernie draws Bert's face on to the screen, while Bert complains about how the lines are tickling him. They must know that I'm trying to hate this today, cause they're bringing out the big guns.
At this point, anybody who can pretty much see where today's entry is headed, you can be excused. Just go ahead and skip to Wednesday.
Still here? Good. Cause now here's Grover -- this is new Grover now, not 70's Grover -- here's Grover telling us that we're going to sing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" two different ways. First we sing it very, very quietly, which basically goes like this: "twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you etc." Then we sing it again, but very, very loudly! "Is everybody ready? TWINKLE, TWINKLE, LITTLE STAR! HOW I WONDER WHAT YOU ARE! LOUDER! UP ABOVE THE WORLD SO HIGH! LOUDER! LIKE A DIAMOND IN THE SKY! STOMP WHILE YOU SING! TWIN! KLE! TWIN! KLE! LIT! TLE! STAR! HOW! I! WON! DER! WHAT! YOU! ARRRRRRRRRE!"
Then Ernie screams for Grover. "HI, ERNIE!" Ernie shrieks: "DO YOU THINK WE HAVE TIME FOR ONE MORE GAME OF ERNIE SAYS?" YES! Bert and Prairie Dawn join them. Prairie shouts: "WHY IS EVERYONE YELLING?" BECAUSE IT'S MORE FUN THAN TALKING QUIETLY! "OHHH! YOU'RE RIGHT!" They say GOOD-BYE! really loudly. Then they say goodbye really quietly. "HEY, YA KNOW WHAT?" Ernie shouts. "LOUD'S MORE FUN! YAAAAAAAAY!"
Well, I mean. I don't care how jaded and cynical of a three year old you are. This show dares you not to love it. It turns you upside down and just shakes the love right out of your pockets.
But don't worry. I'll find a flaw tomorrow, I promise. It's just that today I'm too busy drawing shapes with my magic pointy finger. Zzzzzk!
Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday
Spin-off Sesame Wednesday, April 17
Okay, play friends. So far, we've conclusively answered the question of whether Play With Me Sesame is fun to watch or not. (The short answer: Yes.) So now we can turn to the deeper, more difficult questions.
Today's topic -- Spin-offs: Boon to Mankind or Destroyer of Entertainment?
I'm qualified to speak authoritatively on this subject, because I was one of those people fortunate enough to grow up during the 1970's. I know spin-offs like a fish knows water. Back in my day, we wouldn't bother watching a show unless it had two or three spin-offs. So I'm an old hand with spin-offs. I've seen 'em come and I've seen 'em go. I was there when Mork from Ork was on Happy Days. I watched MASH begat AfterMASH, and What's Happening become What's Happening Now. I know Rhoda, and Phyllis, and Tabitha, and Flo. Norman Lear took All in the Family and spun Maude and The Jeffersons. Then the maid from Maude got Good Times, and the maid from The Jeffersons got her own show, called Checking In. As Americans, we were inching ever closer to the dream of one show for every living human being.
Now, conceptually, spin-offs are not the creatively bankrupt cash-cow scam that one might think. No no. Sure, there were plenty of spin-offs that were just selling an old idea past its expiration date -- Archie Bunker's Place, let's say, or The Brady Brides -- but every once in a while they'd create a show that could actually make you forget that it was a spin-off in the first place. Like Benson, let's say. Okay, maybe that's not a great example.
For the sake of argument, let's imagine that there's a scale of spin-off success that I'm going to call the Laverne-Chachi Scale. On one side of the scale, there are the shows that become complete, independent little universes, where the appeal of the show is based on the characters and situations themselves, rather than your memories of liking the original show it came from. Let's call that side of the scale Laverne and Shirley. (I didn't say this was a perfect system.) On the other side of the scale are the faded-out, weak copies of shows, which never managed to create anything memorable on their own, and were generally just complete embarrassments. The endpoint on that side, obviously, is Joanie Loves Chachi.
So the question is: As a spin-off, is Play With Me Sesame more of a Laverne, or more of a Chachi?
The crucial element, I think, to the good spin-offs -- your Lavernes, your Jeffersons, your Facts of Life -- is that they took peripheral, outsider characters from their original shows, and then fleshed out the settings where those characters lived. Say what you like about Laverne and Shirley, they managed to take a couple of throwaway characters from Happy Days and created a worldfor them -- an apartment, a bottling plant, a pizza parlor. They weren't just sitting around getting postcards from Richie Cunningham. They had their own thing going. Ditto for Mrs. Garrett, the housekeeper from Diff'rent Strokes. They didn't just give her Gary Coleman's little brother and send her on her way. They created a girls' boarding school for her.
Now, I'm not suggesting we give everybody a girls' boarding school. That would be silly. I'm just saying that when spin-offs work, and become real grown-up independent shows, it's because they create a complete new setting for the characters, another space to inhabit.
And this question of space is actually a strike against Play With Me Sesame. I think that a major source of Sesame Street's appeal is its construction of an imaginary space where kids can go to play and feel safe. Every kid imagines playing on Sesame Street -- sitting on the steps at 123 Sesame Street, going across the street to Hooper's Store, knocking on Oscar's trash can. In fact, while you were reading that last sentence, you were picturing yourself there, weren't you? You know exactly where you'd go if you wanted to visit the Fix-It Shop, or Big Bird's nest, or Ernie and Bert's apartment.
Here's another example. Imagine yourself sitting in Statler and Waldorf's theater box. Now, if I asked you how to get to the guest star's dressing room, you'd know exactly how to direct me there, right? The Muppet Theater never actually existed -- that theater box was just another piece of the set, that spatial relationship that you know so well was just an illusion. But even knowing that, intellectually... it's still real, isn't it? Even when you look at behind-the-scenes photos, there's still some part of your heart that just knows that the Muppet Theater is a real place.
In fact, every successful Muppet TV show has a geography. From Fraggle Rock to Nanny's Nursery to the Big Blue House, part of building a successful fantasy world is building the world. Creating characters is only half the job. Those characters need a place to live and play.
So with all that in mind, where exactly does Play With Me Sesame take place? There's no set, except for some backgrounds with circles or kids' drawings on them. It's all shot against a green screen, with a computer adding in a pattern in the background. So where is this place where Ernie, Bert, Grover and Prairie Dawn are playing? Inside the television? On a computer screen? There's no geography, no spatial relationships. You're either on screen or you're off screen.
It's a horrible thing to say about anybody, but I'd have to say that Play With Me Sesame is more of a Chachi, really. It's fun to watch, and it's got a lot of energy... but it doesn't really create a new world. If it took place in a big house, or a day care center, or something like that, then it would be possible to create a separate identity for itself as a show. But without a setting of its own, it feels more like an afterthought.
When the college students of 2020 get drunk and start reminiscing about the TV shows they watched as kids, they'll remember Sesame Street. They'll remember Elmo's World and the Big Blue House. But they probably won't remember Play With Me Sesame. It's entertaining while you're watching it -- but after it's over, you can't imagine yourself living in that space. You can't really play there. It just disappears. It's like a dream.
Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday
Discount Sesame Thursday, April 18
Hey there, play friends. You know how yesterday I was rambling on about how Play With Me Sesame doesn't really have a geography, except for that default-setting TV-studio webspace background? The thing I didn't talk about yet is how the show is constructed, which explains why it doesn't have a setting.
There's this technique that Henson and Sesame Workshop are using called Banking, which helps them to produce shows really cheaply. TV production costs are going up all the time, ad revenue is going down, and they have to make shows as cost-effective as possible, and Banking helps them do it. Basically, banking is modular TV production -- a show is divided into separate pieces, and then they "bank" a whole slew of pieces all at one time.
The new season of Sesame Street uses a lot of banked segments. Frank Oz came in to the studio and recorded 26 "Letter of the Day" segments all at once, Jerry Nelson performed the Count for 40 "Number of the Day" segments, they made let's say 15 new "Elmo's World" segments, maybe 12 "Journey to Ernie" segments -- and then they mix and match this limited number of pieces to make however many episodes to fill out the season. The banking technique means that they can schedule the performers to come in for short, intense shooting schedules, and they also save money by using the same sets, costumes and props over and over for each segment. Telling Stories with Tomie dePaola used the same technique -- all the Strega Nona pieces were recorded in one block, all the woodland-animal band segments in another.
Sesame Street has at least one non-banked segment every day, which is the street story -- that's the one unique element in every episode. Play With Me Sesame seems like it's made up entirely of banked segments -- and if you watch a bunch of episodes in a row, you'll see some of the same segments two or three times. So far this week, that Prairie Dawn blues-riff segment was in both the Tuesday and the Wednesday episodes, and I've seen the same intro to Bert's "pigeon patterns" game twice. It's all cut and paste, and when you watch more than one episode, it's pretty obvious what the recipe looks like. Every episode starts with a game of Ernie Says, then a film clip of kids playing, then an old Sesame clip, then Prairie Dawn's art show, and so on. Pick one from Column A, one from Column B, add water and broadcast on cable.
Now, just because a show uses banked segments doesn't necessarily make it a bad show. If the individual segments are tedious and awful, like they were on Tomie dePaola, then yeah, it's pretty much a soul-deadening experience. But if you've got funny, lively segments -- like they have on Play With Me Sesame -- then it's fine to mix and match them, and you can get a completely enjoyable half hour of TV out of it. And that's what they've done, they've made a totally fun little half-hour of TV.
The problem is that then every episode is a lot like every other episode. There's not a lot of surprise, and there's not a lot of reason to tune in today as opposed to tomorrow. It's like eating potato chips -- it's fun to pig out on chips sometimes, but one individual chip isn't particularly more satisfying than any other, and it's not the same thing as eating a meal.
A banked show like Play With Me Sesame is just never going to be as satisfying as a non-banked show like Bear in the Big Blue House. Each episode of Bear follows a pretty standard formula, but it still tells a different, complete story every day, and if you tune in tomorrow, you'll see a different story. Play With Me Sesame is more of a babysitter, a clock-watcher. It's just trying to keep you occupied for a half-hour, as cheaply and efficiently as possible.
So, here's my interactive message of the day for Henson and Sesame Workshop: Listen to me, kids. You pulled this little cost-cutting banking stunt with The Animal Show, and with Tomie dePaola, and it's wearing thin. I'm allowing you the new Sesame Street format, and I'm allowing you the discount Play With Me Sesame, because the mix-and-match pieces are so adorable and fresh. But you can't get away with this forever. If the new prime-time Muppet show is all banked segments... there will be trouble, playfriends. That's all I'm saying.
Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday
Irony Sesame Friday, April 19
Anyway, back to the show. In today's episode, Ernie wants to play Ernie Says, but Bert is busy reading a book. "Hey, we can play Ernie Says with a book," Ernie says. "Ernie Says: Get a book! Uh... scuse me, Bert, would you mind if I borrowed that book?" He grabs Bert's book, and starts the game. "Ernie Says: Put the book in front of your face!" Bert wants his book back. "Now, Ernie Says: Make your book walk!" He moves the open book back and forth like it's walking. "Now, Ernie Says: Make your book talk! Like this! Hi, there -- I'm a talking book!" Then it's on to dancing with your book, wearing your book like a hat, and taking your book for a drive around the room. Bert objects, saying that he wants to read his book. Ernie thinks that's a good idea, and announces: "Ernie Says, read your book!" He sits down and reads Bert's book. Bert sighs and walks off.
Then there's a pause of exactly two seconds before they start showing us film clips of kids making animal sounds.
Now, call me old-fashioned, but is that really the way to encourage kids to read? It's fun to wear your book like a hat, it's fun to dance with your book -- but when we tell you to sit down and read your book, we instantly distract you with mooing children. It's kind of a mixed message.
When you think about it, there's something fishy about the whole concept of an "interactive TV show." The whole point of television -- and this isn't me being crabby media-crit boy, this is the real actual purpose of everything on television -- is for you to keep watching television. So no matter how much Play With Me Sesame talks about reading or drawing pictures or playing on the computer, the thing they really want you to do is to keep watching Play With Me Sesame. If Noggin did audience research that found that after watching Play With Me Sesame, kids went off and spent more time playing imagination games with household objects and less time watching Noggin, they'd take it off the air so fast your little blue head would spin.
This is the weird contradiction of educational TV, really. Any reasonable goal of education -- to inspire kids on a personal level, to encourage them to ask questions and actively engage with the world -- that's completely different from the goal of television, which is to keep big groups of them watching long enough to sell them cheese doodles.
So Play With Me Sesame, I think, is pretty much the endpoint of the whole educational TV fad. This is the end of the line, as far as we can go before the whole concept of educating kids en masse through a TV screen just falls to pieces.
The only logical next step, which I'm expecting will debut in 2005, is No TV Sesame, where you turn on the TV and find Oscar, glowering at you and telling you to go play outside.
That'll be followed in 2010 by the Raise Me Sesame parenting appliance, a fully programmed cyberparent that'll engage your kids in loving, age-appropriate play, from infancy until they graduate from law school. Elmo will come as the standard default setting, but you can purchase other Muppets separately as plug-in content modules -- a Grover Self-Esteem module that teaches your kids how to tie their shoes, a Cookie Monster Healthy Eating module that encourages them to clean their plates.
That'll be the state of the art until 2020, when you'll be able to purchase your own farm-raised kid from Reproduce Me Sesame. For just a small deposit upfront, you'll receive a smart, healthy three year old, able to care for a goldfish, count up to 40, and organize an international human rights conference.
Don't be fooled by the cheap Taiwanese knockoff children! Make sure you look for the official Sesame Workshop brand on each child before you bond with them.
Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday
|