Won't You Be My Neighbor?

In the early 1990s, I gathered in Los Angeles with 100 or so other television critics from across North America for the usual biannual pitch from networks and cable channels promoting their upcoming shows. The TV industry people are all too often shameless shills, bombarding critics with an overload of glitz and bags of "gifts" ranging from clocks to tea kettles in an effort to earn favorable reviews. These twice-yearly rituals last two weeks and are round-the-clock, with previews continuously piped into critics' hotel rooms and publicity materials slipped under their doors even as they sleep (if they can).

Understandably, the cumulative effect of all of this frequently results in just the opposite of what the TV folk seek, with the critics disliking (hating) much if not most of what is put in front of them as they become progressively more and more exhausted, crabby and jaded.

At least this was the predictable cycle until one Saturday morning in a Beverly Hills hotel ballroom when Fred McFeely Rogers _ the public television host and children's advocate known as "Mr. Rogers" _ stepped up to address this beleaguered and suspicious throng of critics, who by now were ready to start throwing their plates of salmon at anyone who took to the podium.

Rogers calmly took their measure, and instead of immediately diving in and beginning to talk, stood there silently and motionless until not a sound could be heard in the cavernous room. Then, with all eyes on him, he began to talk in a whisper.

He told a story about how during the Great Depression, his mother would bake pies and leave them on the window sill of their home for passing hobos. The pies would consistently disappear, and sometimes, rarely, the hobos would leave a penny or two, at most a nickel, as payment. Rogers explained that his mother didn't want anything in return, but accepted the money because it helped the hobos retain their dignity.

By the time Rogers finished his talk, the critics were completely won over. More than a few coughs could be heard reverberating around the hall, masking the embarrassed sobs of critics who were being paid to be above it all.

It was with this memory in mind that I went with my family to see Morgan Neville's new documentary "Won't You Be My Neighbor?", which tells the story of Rogers and his iconic children's show, which ran on PBS from 1968 to 2001.

An ordained Presbyterian minister, Rogers, who passed away 15 years ago, had a simple mantra: "Love is at the root of everything."

That certainly sounds good on paper and when addressing children, you think, but how does it play in the real world? As it turns out, pretty damned good.

In an early appearance before Congress as he helps seek funding for the newly created Public Broadcasting System, Rogers faces a steely and adversarial U.S. Sen. John Orlando Pastore (D-R.I.), who had already made up his mind to pan PBS. Pastore stares. And stares. Rogers explains, in a shaky voice that would make Jimmy Stewart blush, that the best way to illustrate the value of PBS would be to recite the words to a song he had written for his show. As he does, Pastore's eyes become moist. He blinks. "You've just earned your $20 million!" he blurts abruptly, and the room erupts in applause.

Rogers, upset with breakneck cartoon violence and frantic children's fare designed to sell products rather than to educate, made his half-hour show completely different, singing, offering gentle advice (often delivered by a cat puppet on his hand delivered in a falsetto voice), and having thought-provoking conversations with series regulars like David "Mr. McFeely" Newell, Francois "Officer Clemmons" Clemmons and Joe "Handyman" Negri, as well as occasional celebrity guests like cellist Yo-Yo Ma (who admitted that meeting the TV icon "scared the hell out of me").

In one segment, Rogers, visibly angry that children were injuring themselves by trying to emulate superheroes like Superman, carefully explains the difference between pretending and real life.

Rogers refused to duck tough subjects like death (of humans and pets), assassinations (in this instance, of Robert Kennedy), divorce, physical handicaps _ and even racism. Clemmons, an African-American, confides that he was reluctant to play a cop on the show. Not only did Rogers convince him, he took a shot at racists by staging a routine in which he invites Clemmons to soak his feet alongside his own in a small wading pool, and even shares a towel with him. (To illustrate just how risky this was for the time, director Neville intercuts footage of white lifeguards pouring bleach into a pool where black youngsters are swimming.)

We also learn of Rogers' own biases. Clemmons tells of how Rogers reacted when someone from the show discovered that the then-closeted Clemmons had been to a gay bar. "I had a good time!" says Clemmons, who was then told that any future bar visits would result in his termination from the show. Clemmons says that Mr. Rogers "eventually came around" to acceptance.

In a straightforward yet somehow understated way just like you-know-who, "Won't You Be My Neighbor?" effectively spikes a lot of ridiculous rumors that sprang up about Rogers, like the one that he had a "torso full of tattoos" _ in this instance, we see Mr. Rogers swimming his daily mile in the local pool. So there.

Alas, we also are shown "parodies" of Rogers performed by the likes of Johnny Carson and Jim Carrey, which, especially now, come across as clumsy, mean-spirited and unfunny, bits that clearly hurt Rogers, whose only response to them was that "some" were humorous. Some things never change.

I find it remarkable that a documentary like this can be found in theaters also screening slam-bang, big-budget fare. But it is, and drawing a surprisingly tidy number of viewers at that.

I recommend this for everyone, not only those who remember watching Mr. Rogers' show, but young people who probably don't realize what all the fuss is about. It's an important reminder that goodness rises to the top even in the worst of times.

I was lucky enough to see this modern marvel of a film at the Sundance film festival. Well edited and seamlessly structured, this film pays a true homage to the art of making a documentary, and to a man that society didn't know they needed until he came along on their television screens.

Won't you Be My Neighbor? was enthusiastically received at Austin's SXSW Film Festival. The film is a beautiful heartwarming tribute to Fred Rogers and Mister Rogers' Neighborhood - a show which changed children's television forever. The film highlights Rogers' humanity and decency and shows how he could bring his message of decency to children. Rogers was a Christian pastor who brought his values to his work on TV without ever trying to preach his religion. Perhaps the most powerful clip was during the first week of his show in February, 1968 (at the peak of the Vietnam War) when his show starts out encouraging that walls be torn down. His message remains amazingly timely today. It also underscores the importance of PBS - which the films shows Rogers defending successfully at a Congressional hearing. The interviews with his widow and his co-workers capture the essence of the human being. The film is well-written and edited and will remind millions of the impact of a remarkable man. Highly recommended.

My first thought after viewing this film was: How impressive is it that a documentary which presents itself as a story about a life of a man, gets us to think more about ourselves internally than it does make us think of the life of Mr. Rogers. All I could think about was what am I doing to improve the world or improve myself? How can you love your neighbor as honestly or as devotingly as Fred Rogers? Who was it that helped me get where I am today? How do I become the best person I can be? It's these questions that make appreciate "Won't you be my neighbor?" even more every second I think about it. I would consider myself a casual viewer of the original show, only ever seeing the episodes late in its run. But it always struck me as powerful because of the earnestness and genuinity of Fred Rogers and the messages he was trying to get across. Is our world in a better place now than it was before the show? Probably not. But his message of loving yourself and loving your neighbor is something that transcends generations and ideals. I would be hard pressed to find a film that was as emotionally impactful as this in 2018. It's exactly the type of film we need at right now, when our world is at a low. Rogers truly represented the best a man could be and it's time we got back to viewing life the way he did. Love is at the root of everything, love or the lack of it. Wow, if there was ever a quote that could represent an entire population, generation, or world. That may be it.

10/10

Greetings again from the darkness. Is it too good to be true? We often ask that question in life, but when it comes to Fred Rogers of "Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood", director Morgan Neville's documentary proves the answer is no ... he was good and true. Fred Rogers hosted the children's TV show on PBS for more than 30 years, starting in 1968. The terrific (and surprisingly emotional) film provides the background of the show, and more importantly, profiles a wonderful man.

Director Neville (BEST OF ENEMIES: BUCKLEY VS VIDAL, 2015) has produced numerous biopics on musicians ranging from Keith Richards to Muddy Waters to Johnny Cash to Brian Wilson. His subject this time out was known for his singing the show's familiar opening number, and his lyrical legacy was his substantial impact on many generations of children. Mr. Rogers was an ordained minister and, in the early days of television, recognized that violent cartoons were not appropriate programming for the formative childhood years. Even in the early years, he was an outlier with sincerity and wholesomeness in entertainment. He never shied away from tough topics - not even death - whether it was the assassination of Robert Kennedy or a dead fish in the aquarium on set. He spoke directly to children in a voice and language they understood.

There are interviews with fellow cast members, long timer crew members, and relatives, including his wife Joanne. We hear Francois Clemmons (Officer Clemmons on the show) discuss how Mr. Rogers addressed Clemmons' homosexuality and race, adding poignancy to the shared televised foot bath. Archival footage takes us back to the early years, and we see Lady Aberlin and Daniel Tiger in both black and white and color segments. We learn that the puppet Daniel most resembled the personality of the host himself ... a quiet, patient, compassionate being who cared about others.

We see footage of Fred Rogers testifying in front of a Senate sub-committee to prevent funding for PBS from being eliminated, and we see numerous cardigan sweaters and tennis shoes. Mostly we see the approach of a man who built a legacy on kindness and human decency ... a lifetime pursuit of uniting that led to struggles with depression. His obsession with 143 - both his weight and his code for "I love you" provides some insight into his personality, and mostly we hear others speak of his lasting impact.

Rather than comedy and pranks, Mr. Rogers was intent on making kids feel safe and secure in a scary world. Sure he educated - often subtly - but it was his innate ability to comfort that kept kids coming back. There are naysayers who say he is responsible for generations of entitled kids who grew into entitled adults, but the film addresses this by showing Roger's commencement address where he clearly explains the "special" label. His final show was in 2000 and he died in 2003. His legacy is simple yet powerful. We can each do better. We can each be better. We can each be better neighbors.