(Not so) Brief thoughts on Won't You Be My Neighbor?

It seems only customary and normal anymore that we as a people should be cynical, seeing much before us with jaded eyes, and expecting the worst. Because it works; cynicism sells, in business, in media, so often clouding our judgment and suppressing our happiness. In today's day and age, that a soul as patient and as warm-hearted as Fred Rogers, an ordained minister who spearheaded the popular Mister Roger's Neighborhood for PBS, would exist is unheard of, living by a philosophy of a little kindness going a long way, a kindness carried over into Won't You Be My Neighbor?, encapsulating his life and his spirit.

Director Morgan Neville doesn't hesitate to show us the type of person that Rogers was, the film establishing his method as an educational teacher through a metaphor on piano, that building from C to F is easy enough, but from F to F Sharp requires a great deal of build and intricate weaving, almost as intricate as the morals and the lessons that he would instill. As succinctly as it possibly can, this opening snippet firmly establishes the type of direct teacher he was, as he strove to inspire his child viewers to ask tough questions and love themselves for who they are.

If anything is abundantly clear, that message and core belief of children being smarter than given credit for is certainly not lost. Children's programming, both of the time and even now, has made much of its bread and butter in pandering to children's most simple of entertainment desire, without catering to their intelligence or comprehension of the outside world. It's perhaps ironic that Rogers should be such a prolific name on television, considering his hatred for television (or more appropriately what it could instill in irresponsible hands), especially at a time where legitimate children's programming struggled to earn funding. In contrast to overly stylized shows of the time, that Rogers could take the limited resources he had and make such compelling viewing was a wonder, and that was even before working allegories of the outside world into his Make-Believe kingdom narratives, in his first episode making commentary on the ongoing Vietnam War.

What was Rogers trying to accomplish? The film implies and lays out a number of compelling reasons behind his motives. Perhaps in some way, it could be a chance to relive a childhood he always longed for, spinning a tale of spending much time in bed with disease tinkering with his little toy figures, and his fear of expressing his emotions and filtering them through piano. Perhaps that was why he gravitated to children, knowing all too well that fear, pressure, and uncertainty they experience coming into their own. That Rogers could see that child, and talk to them about serious issues at a level they could understand (either on his own or through his surrogate puppet Daniel Tiger) almost felt like a revolutionary idea.

But more importantly, it could have totally been opportunistic, but not in any bad ways. Our time is limited here, and it's only through those future generations that our morals and our beliefs will thrive on. Knowing this, and his show being formed around some hard times such as racial segregation, perhaps it could be some way of shaping the perception of children. Since media has always had a way of shaping the perspective of those who consume it, Rogers may have thought himself able to do the same, to ask children to embrace and see the world in brighter ways, a significant 180 from the notion that aggression wins out over compassion. If it could even inspire one child to be more accepting of themselves and others, through his assurance that those children weren't mistakes, directly visiting the children of urban cities, even inviting the likes of Yo-Yo Ma and recurring performer Francois Clemmons onto his show, even that - simple as it is - would still be a job well done.

But that's only from my cynical view, and I don't think cynicism could even be considered part of his vocabulary, though many certainly may have tried to apply that to him. In any less competent hands, the entire film could have easily come across as toothless propaganda, glossing over the more negative aspects of Rogers' life. And boy, did many try to make him seem like a negative influence, casting his habitual patience and compassion as weakness (perhaps compounded by his slim, 143 pound figure), and one almost questions if he would have had a place in this world would he have started today, when aggression is all that people seem to have to get their point across, that his perceived naivete may have created a generation of so-called snowflakes believing themselves special. Maybe Rogers was ahead of his time, and maybe he had no real time at all, when it seems like that sense of compassion and self-love he talked about begins to come undone. Even Rogers, as radical and as forward-thinking as he was, couldn't break down all barriers, such as the emergence of a friend's homosexuality that he discouraged, soon apologizing and atoning for his mistake (which can be argued as more a crux of the time than of him). The reason we perceive his graciousness as irrational is because, in some way, we're hardwired to think that way, and so it's challenging for us to grasp that such a man (humorously dubbed at one point as the second coming of Jesus) can exist without any flaws or dirt.

But like the film covering him, that's just what Rogers was. We often talk about performers who are so into their characters, that they practically blur the lines and become them, and that really seems to have started with Rogers. Actually, it's a real stretch to call him a performer, because there was no character, no act, no theatrics. Fred was in real life as he was on television, the same soft-spoken, kind, compassionate man who felt like a friend, someone you could rely on to give you a warm hug. This wasn't merely some idealized role model of a man, of which while that status placed on his shoulders may have worn on him and burned him out at times, was a tremendous responsibility that he treated as a gift rather than an obligation. And such a meek man is he, you start to laugh and wonder why Yo-Yo Ma - a world renowned cellist - would be so intimidated by him.

And that's when it hit me. Even if his gentle nature doesn't feel so imposing at first glance, that belief of speaking to others with kindness still proves powerful and commanding (single-handedly earning government funding for PBS in a hearing). Kindness like that is never lost on those who witness it, who take it to heart, and who pass it on, instilling at a time that desperately needed it (and still does) that even those simple acts can hold incredible sway and power. Only compounding this is that when I saw the film, my screening had very few empty seats (for something typically dry as a documentary, mind you), so the impact of Mr. Rogers hasn't been lost, nor have his teachings faded out. Whether it be the children whose hearts he touched fifty years ago, or now, as long as those morals continue to be spread and his legacy continues to be shared, some part of him will always live on.

And just like the man, the film covering his life and impact is such an earnest, affectionate, and thought-provoking time capsule journey, that not only should be seen, but I feel like is a film that we desperately needed at this point. It may be unassuming, but it is powerful, leaving you that much hopeful long after its closing moments. It would take the most stubborn and statuesque of hearts not to be moved by it.


***** / *****