Jingle Jangle: A Christmas Journey

"Jangle" is a Middle English word that means to "talk excessively or noisily, squabble." This definition cannot be applied to our protagonist in Jingle Jangle: A Christmas Journey, the 2020 Netflix Christmas movie written and directed by David E. Talbert. When we meet Jeronicus Jangle, he is a toymaker on top of the world and is played in the opening scenes by Justin Cornwell. There is nothing he cannot invent, and his toy shop is the wonder of the world. Things can change so quickly, though, and by the time we see him again, he is alone, bitter, and disconsolate. In these scenes, he's played by Forest Whitaker, and he's anything but an excessive talker.

By now, Whitaker is of course one of our most treasured actors, but Jingle Jangle: A Christmas Journey is unlikely to be one of his most remembered roles, even though he sings fairly well in it. Part of that might be because the film seemed to come and go without much of a wintry splash; released on November 13, 2020, the filmed received positive reviews but not much chatter, even if it was during the era of everyone staying home and watching other Netflix programs like Tiger King. Be that as it may, it is currently ranked seventeenth on Rotten Tomatoes' list of the best Christmas movies ever, right in between the anime film Tokyo Godfathers and Edward Scissorhands. (Forget about the debate over Die Hard—is Edward Scissorhands really considered a Christmas movie?) 

Whitaker may do a fine job (though he leans in too heavily towards a mumbling persona), but many of the others in this Christmas fantasy do not, supplying acting that can only be described as forced, awkward, and overly theatrical. It doesn't help if the songs (written by John Legend, Philip Lawrence, Davy Nathan, Michael Diskint, and others) come across as energetic yet stale and are unlikely to remain in one's memory unless one has heard them repeatedly. They simply exist to provide only (and I mean only) the inner thoughts of the singer and nothing else. They don't move the film forward, they don't dazzle, and they certainly don't entertain. 

Jingle Jangle is a Christmas fable reminiscent of The Nutcracker; it even aspires to be E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial and WALL-E at different points, but fails. In the story, Jangle's inventions (namely an animatronic and animated miniature matador voiced terrifically by Ricky Martin) have been stolen by his apprentice, Gustafson, played in most scenes (including his big musical number) by Keegan-Michael Key. Since the theft, Jangle has fallen into despair, turning his imaginarium into a pawn shop where he struggles to pay the bills. His daughter has grown up and moved away to raise her daughter in a cottage; they have not kept in touch.

One day, however, Jangle's granddaughter, Journey (played in a very charming performance by young Madalen Mills) is sent to visit her grandfather, whom she has never met. Jangle is not thrilled, and initially insists that she cannot stay. Eventually acquiescing, he forbids her from touching anything, even though she soon proves that she's just as much a genius as he is, though the topics that they are experts in are things like the "second derivative of sensational" and the "square root of possible."  

There are worthy aspects of the film, like its wonderful animation, sets, costumes, and other technical aspects, that are top-notch, and despite its weak start, the film does get more charming as it progresses, with the snowball fight (offering a glimpse of Jangle loosening up a bit) being a highlight. Children, in particular, could be quite captivated by it, especially as characters literally start to fly. To many adults, however, flying characters still don't do much to make the film feel fantastical. Despite this admirable qualities, I cannot recommend this film to most viewers. It checks a lot of boxes for a Christmas movie with all of its pageantry and magic, but it drags on for thirty minutes too long and can be a bore. I should also admit though that I initially couldn't stand Elf, and yet I now appreciate it much more with every viewing. Perhaps I will say the same one day about Jingle Jangle: A Christmas Journey. 

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Return to Oz

Return to Oz is not a sequel to The Wizard of Oz. It shares considerably less of the same DNA than, say, the new hit adaptation of Wicked. Viewers will recognize this almost immediately because within seconds, there is an obvious melancholy that might strike some as peculiar (if their only reference of this world is the famous 1939 MGM musical starring Judy Garland). Curiously, despite some calling it a sequel and the fact that it's a Disney movie, it's not even a musical. Who knows if they would have even helped. 

This 1985 fantasy directed by Walter Murch and written by Murch and Gill Dennis is considerably grimmer that The Wizard of Oz, Wicked, or just about any other adaptation of the famous story you can imagine. For the film's noble defenders, such as Harlan Ellison, who commented that the film "ain't Judy Garland, it ain't hip-hop, but Return to Oz is in the tradition of the original Oz books," this is a good thing. For those who want Oz to be devoid of any dark fantasy, this isn't the movie for you. I didn't mind one way or the other when I saw it as a young boy, though the only concrete memory I have from my first viewing was of Jean Marsh abruptly opening her eyes, signifying a considerable amount of danger for Dorthy Gale, and becoming the stuff of nightmares. Unfortunately, I was a lot more bored watching it as an adult.

Dorthy is played here by Fairuza Balk, who was about ten years old during the filming. She's the only fantastic part of Return to Oz, effortlessly capturing the character's curiosity, kindness, fear, and bravery. Dorthy is back in Kansas in the year 1899, six months after the tornado whiskered her from Kansas and into the magical Land of Oz, and yet she's different since before the storm. Kansas here isn't a sepia-toned sound stage but a muddy real location. (The live locations, as well as the sets at Elstree Studios, further help demonstrate the superiority of The Wizard of Oz.) Dorothy is being treated by a doctor who promises her family to cure her of her sleeplessness through electric-shock therapy. Inevitably, she escapes and winds up all the way back in Oz, this time not joined by her dog, Toto, but by a talking chicken from her farm named Billina (voiced Denise Bryer). Oz, however, isn't how she remembers it. The Scarecrow is not the king anymore, and the land is ruled by the menacing Nome King (Nicol Williamson), who hates chickens for an unexplained reason. Dorthy's other friends, like the Tin Woodsman and the Cowardly Lion, are all frozen, and she's chased by a cackling group of hooligans called the Wheelers (who look kind of ridiculous). 

Fortunately, there are some adversaries and allies who make the film at least somewhat interesting, such as Tik-Tok, a mechanical soldier voiced by Sean Barrett, and Jack Pumpkinhead (voiced by Brain Henson, the son of Jim Henson and the current chairman of The Jim Henson Company), both of whom try to fill the void and protect Dorthy on her adventures. Williamson as the Nome King isn't as intriguing as one would think he would be (he was once called the greatest actor since Marlon Brando, afterall), especially as it is eventually revealed that the king curiously has stolen the ruby slippers and wears them on his feet, flaunting them to Dorthy before her. However, his henchman—the Nome Messenger (cleverly animated on a rock wall and voiced by Pons Maar)—is a neat touch and the only villainous character who works here.  

It may be unfair to keep comparing the two, as most adults should hopefully be able to recognize that this is not a sequel. Before the public domain reforms of the early 1990s, works remained under copyright for fifty-six years, so The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, the 1900 book in which writer L. Frank Baum first introduced his readers to a a young girl from Kansas and her whimsical friends in the Land of Oz, entered the public domain in 1956, almost thirty years before Disney took their own shot at Baum's stories. There is no Baum book called "Return to Oz," but the story mostly takes its inspiration from the second and third entries in the series: The Marvelous Land of Oz and Ozma of Oz. However, the filmmakers did try and establish a few links to the 1939 films, mainly the fee Disney paid MGM to use the ruby slippers, which were the intellectual property of the latter studio and not in any Baum story (and therefore not in the public domain). 

Return to Oz must have seemed like a winning ticket for the studio, and the spent massively promoting it. It didn't matter. Return to Oz was a critical and commercial flop, earning only half of its budget at the box office and further signifying Disney's lowest point before their renaissance. It might be permanently forgotten if not for those who are just now discovering Baum's characters through Wicked, which is one of the highest-grossing films of 2024. These new fans might eat up all the Oz they can get. Return to Oz might not be hip-hop or Judy Garland, but it's not much of anything else, and only those who love all things Oz and/or prefer this darker, probably more faithful tone would enjoy it. For everyone else, they can continue belting out along to "Defying Gravity" to their hearts' content.    

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