Latest news with #VeggieTales
Atlantic
06-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Atlantic
Getting Beyond ‘Pretty Good for a Christian Movie'
Growing up in an evangelical household, I watched films and TV shows meant to teach me about Jesus and the Bible's larger narrative—works such as McGee and Me!, VeggieTales, and various productions involving Psalty, an anthropomorphic book of worship songs. Not all of them hold up, but the ones that do benefit from sharp writing, laugh-out-loud comedy, and an entertainment value that transcends ideology. As a parent who remains a believer, I sometimes mix shows and movies like these into my own family's media diet, but as a culture journalist, I'm looking for artful storytelling as much as educational value. My struggle now, as it was when I was a child, is finding the works that excel without grading on a curve, works that aren't just 'pretty good for a Christian movie'—the ones so absorbing that they could resonate with a broad audience. The canon's newest candidate is The King of Kings, an animated film that recently surpassed the Oscar-winning Parasite as the highest-grossing Korean-produced film in American history. The movie aspires to reach beyond the faithful—to be, as its director Jang Seong-ho put it, 'something even nonbelievers could enjoy without feeling lectured at.' Jang pursues this objective in several ways: Aside from being voiced by big-name actors such as Kenneth Branagh, Oscar Isaac, and Uma Thurman, the film tells a biblical story through the lens of a historical figure, balances the drama with stabs at humor, and avoids today's sociopolitical landscape altogether. These efforts can be effective, and have worked before: Bible dramatizations such as The Star, a playful children's cartoon about the Nativity featuring a stacked cast, and The Chosen, a hit live-action TV series about Christ's life, present their stories with winsome verve. The King of Kings goes further, with a post-credits plea for viewers to open their wallets and purchase tickets for friends, encouraging them to watch the movie themselves. But the film's on-the-nose approach seems unlikely to win over viewers who aren't already on board with its message. The King of Kings is based on The Life of Our Lord, a book that Charles Dickens wrote to explain Jesus's life to his children; the book was kept exclusive to Dickens's family until its publication in 1934, after the last of his children died, at which point his surviving relatives opted to share it with the world. The film version begins with Charles (Branagh) doing a live reading of A Christmas Carol at a packed theater. When his young son Walter (Roman Griffin Davis) and Walter's cat upend the performance with their unruly behavior, Charles's wife, Catherine (Thurman), persuades Charles not to punish the kid but instead to use the opportunity to teach him about Jesus (Isaac). Although the child is initially, even obnoxiously, uninterested, he soon becomes so immersed in these stories that he imagines himself stepping into them. The movie plays the hits: Jesus's birth in a Bethlehem stable; miracles including walking on water and the feeding of the 5,000; the crucifixion and resurrection. Charles pauses sometimes to explain concepts such as Passover, which was being observed in Jerusalem at the time of Jesus's execution, and substitutionary atonement (how Jesus's death shoulders the penalty for humanity's sins). The bursts of religious instruction help the audience understand the theological basis behind the scenes from Jesus's life—one of the film's more effective tools, even if these moments sometimes come off more like Bible-explainer videos than popcorn cinema. Many of these lessons, though, are obfuscated by the film's uncanny comedy, which usually involve the boy's cat aggravating Charles while he attempts to narrate Jesus's story. Otherwise, the film strives to convey the gravity of its material by locking onto a dead-serious vibe, at the expense of character development. One might argue that a sober approach befits the epic sweep of the biblical narrative. Yet a key reason a drama like The Chosen (which was once also produced by the King of Kings distributor, Angel Studios) has appealed to so many is that it allows Jesus and his disciples to be funny, annoyed, exhausted. They're real people, and the solemn moments hit much harder as a result. Evangelistic storytelling doesn't have to be awkward; just look at the Bible itself. The Gospel of John, for instance, offers flashes of amusement, such as when John notes that he ran faster than his fellow apostle Peter on the way to Jesus's empty tomb. One wondrous implication of the Gospels is that the supernatural has intervened in everyday life, with all its petty ego clashes and mundane squabbles; if adapted adeptly, these relatable moments can pop even more on-screen than they do on the page. Take the 1998 DreamWorks production The Prince of Egypt, perhaps the gold standard for biblical cartoons. That film succeeds largely because of its deft presentation of the story's inherent human drama: Moses and his adoptive brother, Rameses, joke and banter, and when Moses returns from decades in exile, the joy of reuniting and anxiety over how their relationship has changed are palpable. The filmmakers translated the Book of Exodus into a format most viewers would understand—the kind of colorful, animated musical Disney popularized—and trusted that their movie's spiritual themes would resonate. They weren't overtly trying to instruct nonbelievers about how to save their soul, but if they had been, they had a hell of a vehicle for it. The King of Kings doesn't come close to matching The Prince of Egypt 's power, but it's found an audience nonetheless. In a landscape where most cultural products aren't generated with a religious audience in mind, there is some value in movies that appeal directly to the faithful. My kids are not known for their discerning tastes, but they did enjoy the movie; for a parent like me who wants them to learn about Jesus, maybe that's enough. Still, a movie that's merely a hit among Christians feels like a missed opportunity to open up a genre that has too often been a closed circuit. The Chosen started as a crowdfunded biblical adaptation on niche streaming services; it became a word-of-mouth success among churches and Christian groups by fleshing out its stories with extra layers of character-driven drama. The show has now run for five seasons and become available on a mainstream platform, Amazon Prime Video, where it reaches a much larger audience of people of any belief. For The King of Kings, telling a story of faith that crackles with life, that connects the Bible to people's real passions and problems, might have yielded more of a crossover smash—a movie that those outside the faith might also have been curious to see. As it stands, I'm still waiting for a film like that.
Yahoo
02-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Great American Pure Flix Launches The Ark Club, a Safe New Streaming Destination for Kids and Families
New Original Series Iggy and Mr. Kirk Headlines Faith-Filled Summer Lineup Featuring VeggieTales, Bob the Builder, and The Wiggles. NEW YORK, June 2, 2025 /PRNewswire/ -- Just in time for summer break, Great American Pure Flix is proud to announce the launch of The Ark Club, a new streaming destination for kids and families seeking trusted, values-driven entertainment. Launching June 2, The Ark Club instantly turns Great American Pure Flix into a reliable home for wholesome children's programming. Headlining the launch is the all-new original series Iggy and Mr. Kirk, a delightful live-action and animated blend starring Kirk Cameron, Leigh-Allyn Baker, and featuring John Kennedy as the voice of Iggy the Iguana. The heartwarming series delivers fun, faith, and life lessons the whole family can enjoy. The Ark Club also features a growing library of beloved favorites including VeggieTales, The Wiggles, Bob the Builder, and more. "The Ark Club is a bold new step in children's entertainment that is safe, inspiring, and rooted in timeless values," said Bill Abbott, President & CEO of Great American Media. "Whether it's summer break, after-school time, or family weekends, kids and parents deserve content that's fun, meaningful, and trustworthy, and all in one place." Whether it is for after-school fun, summer break, or family time on weekends, The Ark Club offers an engaging and enriching experience for kids of all ages. For more information, MEDIA CONTACTS:Pam SlayNetwork Program Publicity & Talent Relations818.415.3784pamslay@ Debbie DavisDdavis@ Media & PR, Director of Client ServicesC: 214-802-8979 (call or text)media@ View original content to download multimedia: SOURCE Great American Family
New York Times
27-03-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
‘Art for Everybody' Review: The Hidden Life of the ‘Painter of Light'
One of my high school jobs was stocking shelves and tending the register in a Christian bookstore in upstate New York. 'Bookstore' is a bit of a misnomer: while we did sell books — Bibles, relationship manuals about love languages, 'Left Behind' novels — most of the store's floor space was devoted to things that were not books at all: Christian music CDs and cassette tapes, plus 'gift' items, usually displayed in themed zones: baptisms, amusements and brands like Willow Tree, Precious Moments and Veggie Tales. When I was there in 2001, our biggest sellers came from one section in the store that was set up to resemble a small living room, with a couch and a rug and a wall hanging. This was the Thomas Kinkade section, named for the artist who created the images of colorful homes nestled into sweet landscapes that were then painted and embroidered and printed onto anything a typical Christian bookstore patron might desire. You could buy Thomas Kinkade collectible plates, Thomas Kinkade throw blankets, Thomas Kinkade lamps, Thomas Kinkade crosses, Thomas Kinkade mass-produced cross-stitched Bible covers. With the flick of a button, Thomas Kinkade framed prints would convert images of glowing windows to actual glowing windows via little embedded lights. You could deck your whole life out in Thomas Kinkade. Kinkade, who turned out these original images and called himself the 'Painter of Light,' is the subject of the new documentary 'Art for Everybody,' directed by Miranda Yousef. Kinkade is sort of the Kenny G of American art, ubiquitous and beloved and very easy to deride. The documentary brings in a variety of art critics, journalists and historians to do just that, with reactions ranging from sniffs to an earnest consternation over what Kinkade's anodyne, even retrograde images signify about their buyers. The New Yorker writer Susan Orlean, who profiled Kinkade in 2001, provides some background from a decidedly outsider perspective: she hadn't heard of Kinkade in his '80s and '90s heyday, and found him to be as much of an oddity as a cultural phenomenon. But I suspect Orlean is an outlier, and not just because according to the documentary, at one point one in every 20 American households purportedly purchased 'a Kinkade' — meaning a licensed print — to put on the wall, and possibly many more. For those who grew up in and around Christian culture in the United States, especially the evangelical flavor, he was ubiquitous from the 1980s onward, present in church lobbies and grandma's living room. As the art critic Blake Gopnik notes in the film, Kinkade 'fed on the disdain' of critics and the establishment, positioning himself as diametrically opposed to an art world seen as degenerate and anti-family during the 1980s and '90s culture wars. Kinkade served up a vision of a perfect, beautiful world, with himself as a defender (as he says in archival video) of 'family and God and country and beauty.' All of this was very lucrative for Kinkade, who was a marketing genius — one interviewee suggests Warhol might have been jealous — and an outspokenly religious family man. But that makes his death in 2012, at the age of 54, even more startling. After a precipitous decline owing to mounting alcoholism and including public urination, heckling and erratic behavior (plus a failed stint in rehab), Kinkade died of an alcohol and Valium overdose. It was easy to write this off as an example of hypocrisy on his part, just another outwardly upright man who kept his real life secret until it burst out of him. But 'Art for Everybody' — which is well structured, meticulously researched and revealing, even for a Kinkade-jaded viewer like me — manages to complicate the narrative, thanks in part to sensitive interviews with family and friends, including his wife, Nanette, and their four daughters. Kinkade, they say, was a vibrant and multifaceted man who was forced, partly by his own fame, into showing only one facet of himself in his art: the glowing, bucolic, faith-and-family side. For instance, at various points in the '90s Kinkade's images appeared on the cover of the magazine published by the conservative evangelical organization Focus on the Family, headed by the influential culture warrior James Dobson. Kinkade's branded stores were in shopping malls, and he filmed TV shows that showcased his perfect family, loving life and deep devotion to his Christian faith. The real Kinkade was more complex. The most surprising revelation in 'Art for Everybody' is the existence of what his family calls a 'vault' of his work. Only about 600 of 6,000 have been 'published,' as they put it, as part of the Kinkade brand, but in the vault we glimpse thousands of works that would never hang in a Christian bookstore. They show a far more fascinating artist, one who experiments with forms and styles and frequently depicts the darkness that lurked inside of him. In several images, dark brooding figures rendered in charcoal seem haunted; others feature grotesque caricatures that are bleakly humorous. There's audio tape of him, as a youthful art student, vowing to 'avoid silly and sweet and charming pictures; I want to paint the truth.' Stuffing these impulses down, the film suggests, may explain why he succumbed to addiction. But that art wouldn't have been for everybody, and it couldn't have been marketed to the masses, at least not as work from the 'Painter of Light.' That means that while 'Art for Everybody' unveils plenty about Kinkade's real life versus the fantasy he peddled, it's even more revealing about the nature of art, and what it takes to be financially successful in the mass market. It's not wrong to call Kinkade's art products kitsch: They are sentimental and factory-made, designed to send the viewer into a nostalgic reverie in which critical thinking can simply fade away. The world they represent was distinctly designed for white American Christians who wanted to collect objects that reinforced rather than challenged their faith. (One interviewee notes the conspicuous absence of people of color in Kinkade's cityscapes.) There are questions raised in 'Art for Everybody' that the film lets linger rather than answering directly. What sort of culture requires artists to make themselves brands in order to make a living? The blockbuster success of Kinkade's empire among evangelical Americans is revealing — but of what, exactly? The film prefers to let the audience draw its own conclusions. But it may not be much of a leap to see the glowing windows of Kinkade's cottages and see, as one interviewee does, the blazing flames of a house fire that may burn the whole structure down.
