Last spring, the Daily Film beat was inspired by the doldrums of quarantine and the introduction of Disney+ to watch and review a number of Disney Channel Original Movies — DCOMs for short. There are many ways to look at DCOMs — as relics of the 2000s, as problematic attempts at representation, as textbook examples of the power of nostalgia — but there is no denying that they are somewhat trivial in the grand scheme of things. If we’re being honest, it’s been a while since quarantine has felt truly idle: Between the pandemic, protests and politics, the world feels as though it is unraveling. It can feel odd to talk about something as inconsequential as DCOMs when these past few months have been difficult for everyone in different ways, and we would be remiss if we didn’t acknowledge that. That said, there is a difference between reprieve and perpetuating ignorance. If you choose to go on this DCOM journey with us, we ask that you keep this in mind. For us at the Daily Film beat, DCOMs were a big part of our childhoods. The Disney Channel has long been a staple of children’s entertainment, churning out hit TV shows, family-friendly pop stars and their beloved original movies. Over 100 original DCOMs have aired on Disney Channel since the DCOM banner began in 1997, raking in millions of viewers with each film. As a beat, we’ve decided to watch and review a number of these films, whether they’re musicals, classics or generally unknown. We all know that these aren’t exactly high- concept — despite their charm, most DCOMs are incredibly low-budget, filmed cheaply in Canada with unseasoned child actors and awkward dialogue. So instead, our reviews are based on how much we enjoyed the film in the context of it being a 90-minute TV movie made for kids. We’re also aware that these reviews are particularly biased, fueled by nostalgia for the films, actors and music that defined our childhoods. The first installment of this series will cover the first set of what we’re calling “Classic DCOMs” — well-known DCOMs that reached a wide audience through high viewer ratings and perpetual re-airings. Many of these DCOMs feature Disney Channel stars, killer 2000s soundtracks and iconic aesthetics. As you join us for this joyride of nostalgia and charmingly low quality, we only have one thing left to say: “Hi, we’re the Film beat, and you’re watching Disney Channel.” — Kari Anderson, Daily Arts Writer “Halloweentown” (1998) Disney Channel in October was always an experience — fun, Halloween-themed movies playing every day of the month and new Halloween episodes of “Hannah Montana” and “Wizards of Waverly Place” on Sunday nights. What more could an eight-year-old ask for? Obviously, the only thing better than a month of Disney Halloween is to create a universe where Halloween is through the whole year; enter, “Halloweentown.” Released in 1998, the film is the first installment of four in which we meet the Pipers: Marnie (Kimberly J. Brown, “Quints”), Dylan (Joey Zimmerman, “Treehouse Hostage”) and Sophie (Emily Roeske, “Fell’s Redeemer”). The film also introduces their mother Gwen (Judith Hoag, “Forever My Girl”) and grandmother Aggie (Debbie Reynolds, “Singin’ in the Rain”). For Marnie and her siblings, the magic of Halloween is marred by the fact that their mother refuses to let them enjoy the holiday to the fullest, a tragedy for anyone who understands the joys of trick-or-treating. As the film progresses, the audience learns about Halloweentown, a world of warlocks, witches, trolls and other fantastical creatures. “Halloweentown” is one of the more impressive DCOM franchises, second only to “High School Musical.” The first film addresses how well we really know our parents. As 10-year-olds, we’ve really only been alive for a third of our parents’ lives, a fact that becomes increasingly clear when Marnie learns of her mother’s witchy history. On top of that, the films successfully create a whole other dimension with social issues that parallel those of the real world (for example, the prejudice towards “mortals”), all while maintaining that signature Disney pluck. — Emma Chang, Daily Arts Writer “Zenon: Girl of the 21st Century” (1999) “Zenon” is arguably one of the most iconic DCOMs, with its neon color palette and costumes that gave millennials a nostalgic love of holographic outfits. The film is set in 2049 on a private space station that Zenon Kar (Kirsten Storms, “General Hospital”) has called home for eight years. Despite growing up in space, Zenon is basically a normal 13-year-old girl: curious and unapologetic, with boy band posters in her room and a vocabulary of unique slang terms (like “Zetus Lapetus” or “lunarious”). Clashes with the station’s rules lead to Zenon getting “grounded” — sent to live on Earth with her slightly agoraphobic Aunt Judy (Holly Fulger, “Anything But Love”). Adapting to life on Earth is not easy for Zenon, whether it’s understanding money, learning how to ride a bike or making friends. To make it harder, it’s suddenly up to her to save the space station and everyone on it. “Zenon” has a predictability to it, but it’s unique in terms of creative worldbuilding. It’s fun to see the idea of 2049 from a 1999 point of view: The tech gadgets are advanced but the rock stars still have frosted tips. The movie inspired two sequels, making it one of Disney Channel’s first franchises, and features Raven-Symoné (“That’s So Raven”) at the beginning of a long Disney Channel career. And while “Zenon” may inspire some questions — are all of the cars in 2049 Volkswagen Bugs? Did they really give a Northwestern University astronomy professor an unacknowledged cameo? How do I pull off a high side-ponytail like Zenon? — you can’t deny that this film is, as Zenon might say, totally lunarious. — Kari Anderson, Daily Arts Writer Smart House (1999) “Smart” technology, beginning with the smartphone, has certainly changed the way we go about life — there’s little that isn’t documented through the help of an iPhone camera, and with the rise of technology like Amazon’s Alexa, Apple’s Siri and Google Home, the idea of a smart house is no longer just a cheesy 1999 Disney movie, but rather our reality. In “Smart House,” technology and the way characters interact with it are surprisingly similar to today, regardless of the fact that “Smart House” is over two decades old. Ryan Merriman (“The Luck of the Irish”) plays Ben, a teenager desperate to make sure his family doesn’t forget their late mother, mainly by preventing his dad from ever meeting someone new. Part of this plan involves winning, and moving into, a “smart” house. And, at first, it seems to work — Pat, much like Siri or Alexa, is programmed to respond to whatever the family asks of her. Whether it’s finishing up homework or making a snack, this smart house can do it. What’s interesting is the warning that Disney gives regarding our reliance on technology. Ben programs the house to act as a surrogate mother, not realizing the detrimental effects this may have on his life. Expecting a computer to behave like a human is a dangerous idea with which many science- fiction authors have grappled. In spite of the fact that it instills a fear of technology, Disney’s “Smart House” deserves much praise, if only because the dad (Kevin Kilner, “A Cinderella Story”) is beautiful. — Emma Chang, Daily Arts Writer “Johnny Tsunami” (1999) “Johnny Tsunami” is one of the best, most literal takes on the DCOM fish-out-of-water story, centering Johnny Kapahaala (Brandon Baker, “One World”), who was born and raised in Hawaii. His grandfather Johnny Tsunami (Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, “The Last Emperor”) is a legendary surfer and has been teaching Johnny to surf his entire life. The Kapahaala family isn’t always on the same page: Johnny’s father Pete (Yuji Okumoto, “The Karate Kid Part II”) has a troubled relationship with his father that extends to his relationship with Johnny, while Johnny’s mother Melanie (Mary Page Keller, “Duet”) tries to keep the peace. When the family moves to Vermont for Pete’s job, Johnny is forced to adapt, leaving Hawaii, surfing and his grandfather behind. He gets involved with winter sports, but finds himself in the middle of a bizarre turf war between private school and public school kids: Private school kids, known as Skies, are skiers, while public school kids, known as Urchins, are snowboarders. Even with the strange socio-economic undertones (did the public school kids really have to be called urchins?), it’s a status quo that’s itching to be broken. Despite going to private school, Johnny becomes friends with Sam (Lee Thompson Young, “The Famous Jett Jackson”), an Urchin who teaches him how to snowboard. Together, they dare to break the mold, hoping to unite the mountain in the process. “Johnny Tsunami” can be cheesy at times, but it’s generally delightful. It’s a wholesome movie about taking on challenges and being yourself, as well as a beautiful mix of surfing and snowboarding montages that make me miss the beach and the mountains at the same time. — Kari Anderson, Daily Arts Writer “Luck of the Irish” (2001) The plotline of “Luck of the Irish” is bonkers: 15-year-old Kyle (Ryan Merriman, “Smart House”) discovers that he’s half-leprechaun after losing a family good luck charm. Kyle is a relatively popular basketball player with a lucky streak, so he finds it distressing when he starts having bad luck, as well as getting shorter and occasionally slipping into an Irish accent — all side effects of losing the lucky charm. He then has to work with his family and friends to get the charm back from a zany and maniacal villain (Timothy Omundson, “Psych”), a struggle that concludes with a bizarre Irish sports tournament. “Luck of the Irish” is occasionally hilarious, sometimes when the writers are trying to be funny and sometimes when they really aren’t. The writing is often awkward, and the strong Irish accents are impossible to take seriously. It’s a fascinating amalgamation that doesn’t always work — part fantasy and part sports movie, with a dash of Irish step-dancing and a strong through-line about heritage that essentially (and disappointingly) ends with “we’re all American.” It’s interesting to see where Disney tries to broach the idea of discrimination with a very brief discussion of anti-Irish sentiments in the 1800s, but it’s almost as interesting to wonder why so many people are invested in junior high school basketball. “Luck of the Irish” is such a weird film, but it’s fun enough to deserve some credit. — Kari Anderson, Daily Arts Writer The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com Arts 12 — Wednesday, September 23, 2020 FILM NOTEBOOK The film beat revisits Disney Channel Original Movies The different forms of self within self-help books DAILY FILM WRITERS Daily Arts Writer NINA MOLINA Daily Arts Writer I, like many other steadfast fiction readers, generally would not touch a non-fiction book with a ten-foot pole, preferring stories that offer an escape from my own mundane life. Once in a blue moon, I grudgingly venture into the world of non-fiction, feeling like I need to expand my repertoire of books, only to mentally check out after the first few pages. Why would I read about real life when imagination can conjure up scenarios that are so much more interesting? However, this year marked a surprising change for me. I entered the world of non-fiction books, and this time, I stuck around. This adjustment came amid a time of extraordinary change, namely the emergence of COVID-19. During the long months of quarantine, many, inspired by online blogs or extreme boredom, decided to make use of their isolation by embarking on self-improvement journeys. As COVID- 19 spread through the country and people were forced to remain home, online yoga, meditation and mental health resources started popping up on social media platforms like Instagram and TikTok. I watched as my friends began undertaking self-improvement journeys, posting about their morning quarantine yoga flows, mediation sessions and Chloe Ting workout challenges. Unfortunately, I was not one of the productive quarantine types. Besides reading and baking a lot, I did not respond to complete social isolation with increased motivation like some others, who seemed to be checking off every life goal during quarantine (starting a podcast, really?). Nonetheless, I surprisingly ended up participating in the aforementioned self- help trend. This summer I took a roadtrip across the country, and eight hours into the third day I was getting stir crazy from the boredom and monotony of the drive. Desperate for some entertainment, I looked for free audiobooks on Spotify. The only book I could find was Mark Manson’s “The Subtle Art of Not Giving A F*ck”. Having nothing else to do, I started listening and found myself immediately engrossed in the author’s philosophy on life. Five hours later, I had listened to the whole book, and it was through this experience that I stumbled onto a new genre of reading: self-help books. After Manson’s book, I read two other self-help books in quick succession, “Daring Greatly” by Brenée Brown and “How to Win Friends and Influence People” by Dale Carnegie. What I found most interesting about these three books was how different each author’s message was. I found myself wondering, how do I know who to believe? Some ideas resonated more deeply with me than others, and I tended to lean toward the books that had practical applicability in my life or related to the issues I was currently facing. Each author approaches giving advice differently. Manson talks about his failures bluntly, and explains the experiences that led him to his current philosophy on life. His personal style is straightforward, unsparing and often raunchy. Rather than telling readers to ‘be positive’ and ‘look on the bright side’ like I had expected from self- help books, he speaks frankly about what he thinks is wrong with people nowadays, and how they can fix themselves. Manson does not have a background in psychology or experience studying his ideas in practice, he simply explains his theory on having a fulfilling life and acknowledges his openness to being wrong and having more to learn. Brenée Brown, on the other hand, has a somewhat different personal style from Manson; she is understanding, relatable and funny. I felt like I was having a conversation with a friend, as she took me through her own experiences with vulnerability and opening up. Brown also has a strong background in research and the study of human emotion, vulnerability, shame and leadership. She is therefore able to base all of her ideas on years of meticulous research, and grounds her recommendations in facts and studies. This came through in her book, as she references study after study that support her suggestions. I found myself trusting her due to the enormous amount of research that she presented as evidence, as well as her approachable and genuine personal voice. “How to Win Friends and Influence People” by Dale Carnegie diverged the most from the two other books. Carnegie suggests psychology-based techniques for becoming a more likeable and charismatic person, proposing tips on ways to make people like you, win people to agree with your way of thinking and change people without arousing resentment. I felt mildly embarrassed to be reading this book, feeling like I was being given insider information on how to trick people into liking me. In every book, I noticed the author’s experiences and background subtly intertwining themselves with their recommendation for how others could transform their lives. They viewed the world through the lenses of their own lives, and as a result, their conclusions included ideas that might not work for everyone. For example, Brenée Brown spoke a lot about her perfectionistic tendencies and how to mitigate them. Personally, I am not a perfectionist, so this portion of the book went entirely over my head. Manson, meanwhile, recounted his experiences dropping everything to travel the world, something I have always dreamed of doing. His findings were extremely interesting and clearly life-altering for him; however, his methods may not be the most suitable for everyone. Carnegie gave advice based on psychological techniques on how to make others like you. For me this did not resonate, as some of the strategies that Carnegie suggested seemed manipulative and underhanded to me. Reading these three wildly different books helped me understand that self-help books are not one-size-fits-all. Each book was a bestseller and incredibly popular among readers, and yet I had extremely different reactions to each one. I ended up picking and choosing the ideas that fit my own life and disregarding the rest. My struggles may not be the same as the authors’, and so it only makes sense that some of the techniques that helped them may not be as beneficial to my own life. COMMUNITY CULTURE PROFILE Community culture artist profile: Kaitlyn Bondoni The first thing LSA senior Kailyn Bondoni learned about poetry was that it rhymes. The second was that haikus existed. The third was that free verse also existed, which, in turn, erased the first lesson she learned. Bondoni’s journey to artistic expression, particularly in poetry, began in her fourth grade classroom. Her teacher read and recited “Where the Sidewalk Ends” by Shel Silverstein. “He had this book fully marked up,” Bondoni told The Daily. “Then he just recited it from memory and spoke so fast. It was so intriguing and terrifying for some reason but like cool. Like when you say, ‘oh, you fear God’: that was this man. So much poetic power.” After Shel Silverstein came angst-driven poems in middle school and poems to aid emotional processing in high school. At the University, her time in the Lloyd Scholars for Writing and the Arts (LSWA) and her creative writing classes exposed her to the wider spectrum of poetry’s possibilities. “I originally thought of free verse and not having to rhyme as freedom,” Bondoni said. “Forms or rhyme scheme is its own challenge and talent that I don’t think I had enough respect for until coming into college and actually trying it.” Now, Bondoni double majors in Film, TV and Media Studies and English with a sub- concentration in Creative Writing, alongside minors in Writing and Environment. Her long list of interests pushed her to discover poetry’s playful malleability. Early in college, Bondoni took English 223: Introduction to Creative Writing on a whim. Her LSA professor, Joseph Mahoney, encouraged her to pursue the poetry track of the English major’s creative writing concentration. This year, she will take English 428, the creative writing capstone, to finish her concentration. There, Bondoni hopes to write a poetry collection that traces her changing poetry and style over time, capturing her experiences from that fourth grade classroom to the present. LSWA also exposed Bondoni to poetry performance. She recalled her first reading as “an experience and a half,” full of shaking hands and shallow breaths. But by the end of her freshman year, poetry performance became a playful experience for her, an opportunity for laughter. At one memorable event, she donned a winter trapper hat and sunglasses and enlisted a friend to play the bongos from the Donkey Kong game. “I think that was kind of the turning point where I was like, ‘okay, it’s not something that I have to be nervous for because I’m expressing,’” she said. “It can also just be a release of tension.” That artistic release provides a welcome relief from the flurry of emotions that college brings. “It’s a good way of figuring out what I’m feeling,” Bondoni said. “In college you meet people and you’re thrown around emotionally. College is a washing machine that you have no control over; you are the last sock in the washing machine. As that sock, I find that poetry helps me kind of surface.” Though poetry may seem divergent or even in opposition to the visual nature of her Film degree, Bondoni finds their marriage in screenwriting. The first time that she fully saw the connection was actually over Twitter, when someone tweeted screenshots from Greta Gerwig’s “Little Women” script. The director is one of Bondoni’s biggest inspirations. “The way that she writes her action lines and the script itself was beautiful. Some of the lines just sounded poetic with just a couple of analogies and metaphors that would really allow an actor to sink their teeth into the script,” she said. Bondoni realized that this poetic approach allows screenwriters to leave their creative mark. She quickly gravitated toward TV writing — “There’s so much more room for character development in there,” she said. “You can really see so many different angles, multiple characters, and that really is so attractive to me.” The playfulness of her poetry is not lost along the way: Finding shows that combine both heartfelt and comedic elements greatly appeals to her. Bill Hader’s “Barry” hit the right combination. “Shows like that really inspire me to try to write more of a real story with comedic elements. I think that’s really the target I’m planning to land on aiming for,” said Bondoni. Though asking a senior about their post- graduation plans can often cause anxiety, Bondoni knows that the film industry path, though challenging, is one she’ll continue chasing. She plans on moving to Los Angeles and holding onto her current screenwriting internship as long as possible. BOOKS NOTEBOOK EMMA DOETTLING Daily Arts Writer Read more online at michigandaily.com Read more online at michigandaily.com Read more online at michigandaily.com