Won't You Be My Neighbor?

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.

When we think of radicals and revolutionary figures of the sixties, names like Ché Guevara or Stokely Carmichael might come up, but probably the last person we would think of would be Fred McFeely Rogers, the soft-spoken writer, producer, and star of the long-running children's television program "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood" (1968-2001). Yet the theme song that opened each show, "Won't You Be My Neighbor?" with its line, "I have always wanted to have a neighbor just like you," was a pretty radical idea to those who did not relish having some folks being their neighbor. Rogers' lifelong devotion to building an alternative community that could serve as a model of inclusion for children and adults to emulate is movingly documented by Oscar winning director Morgan Neville ("20 Feet from Stardom") in Won't You Be My Neighbor?

The film is an inspiring tribute to Rogers, a pacifist and former ordained Presbyterian minister who, over a period of more than thirty years on television, stood for the idea that there is a divine spark in all of us that needs to be nurtured. Looking at Rogers' life and career through the eyes of those who knew him the best, those interviewed include his wife Joanne, his two sons John and James who describe the challenge of having "the second Christ as a father," cast members David Newell (Mr. McFeely), François Clemmons (Officer Clemmons), and Joe Negri ("Handyman"), and guests such as acclaimed cellist Yo-Yo-Ma.

Rogers was originally drawn to educational television as a result of his disdain for the demeaning and violent cartoons that marked children's television programming at the time. While his show was usually lighthearted, he did not shun controversial topics such as death, feeling blue, divorce, and assassination which he talked about with the children after Bobby Kennedy was killed. While Neville does not go into any depth about Rogers' personal or political life, it does single out his stand against the Vietnam War, his bringing an African-American teacher and a group of black students into his home and, after the assassination of Martin Luther King, his invitation to a black police officer (Clemmons) to be on his show during which they sat and talked together with their feet in a wading pool.

Also documented is Rogers' 1969 testimony before the United States Senate requesting a $20 million grant to continue funding PBS after their budget had been cut because of the Vietnam War. At the hearing, he won over the reluctant Rhode Island Senator John Pastore by reciting the lyrics to the song "What Do You Do with the Mad that You Feel?" After listening to the words, Pastore declared, "I think it's wonderful. I think it's wonderful. Looks like you just earned the $20 million." Teased by classmates for being overweight as a boy (they called him "Fat Freddie"), Rogers never forgot the pain of being an outsider and had to deal with his own problems of self-esteem and depression his whole life.

Rogers' wife Joanne tells us that he used his puppets including Daniel Striped Tiger to reflect on his most vulnerable feelings, one of ten voices that he used on the program. One of the most moving sequences is his conversation with Jeff Erlanger, a severely disabled ten-year-old, in which they talk openly about disability and the sadness that often accompanies it. To make sure we know that he was not a saint, Neville recounts how Rogers told Clemmons not to be seen frequenting a gay bar because the show would lose sponsors, but also makes clear that he eventually came around to fully accept him regardless of his sexual preferences.

The centerpiece of Won't You Be My Neighbor? is not politics, however, but Mister Rogers' ability to touch the lives of children and make them feel special, many of whom responded to him with lifelong affection. Accused of promoting a feeling of entitlement in each child, Rogers said, "Only people who take the time to see our work can begin to understand the depth of it." Professor Michael Long, the author of the 2015 book "Peaceful Neighbor: Discovering the Countercultural Mister Rogers," says that he spent his life assuring children that no matter what they look like, no matter who they were, no matter where they came from, deep within them was something that was lovable and capable of loving." Especially today when some children are being used as political pawns, it is inspiring to be reminded of what kindness and love is all about.

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.

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.

Fred Rogers is one of the best humans to ever walk this Earth. I'm as black hearted and cynical as anyone thats ever walked the Earth. Mr. Rogers always hits in the feels because he is the real deal. He wants nothing from you, only that you be understood and proud of yourself.

This doc is a love letter to Mr. Rogers so it is what you'd expect, no surprises, a few more interviews than I've seen in the past all arranged well.