
Maybe it's my path through the middle years of life that is softening my cynicism (which hopefully means I won't complete my dreaded path to the crabby old "get off my lawn!" next-door neighbor), but I just finished watching and futzing with "The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore" short video and iPad app, produced by Moonbot Studios, and they both left me feeling…
Whimsical.
And I'm genuinely happy about being filled with whimsy (I'm always that way after I eat radishes). None of that "I'm an adult and a journalist, I can't feel whimsical!" cynical BS. Again, maybe it's my path through blah blah blah – or maybe it's the app.
And you know what? I don't care which it is. Whatever it is, I'm happy "Morris Lessmore" made me feel whimsical. Like Scrooge at the end of "A Christmas Carol," I was light as a feather, happy as an angel, merry as a school-boy and as giddy as a drunken man, and I remained so even after reading all the world-filled-with-hate news on CNN and even while writer's block-stuck trying to convey these whimsical feelings.
Although it was lighter than air, both the award-winning "Morris Lessmore" video and the iPad app have weight. Both convey a sense of continuity, of a world bigger than ourselves, and yet maintaining our individual importance in that continuity. Their message – despite the irony of its technological whimsy delivery system – is that one can still get lost in old-fashioned books and story telling. It was familiar and reverential, and yet thoroughly modern and original.
Did I mention it is whimsical?
If that's not a glowing review and an urge for children from 2 to 102 to download both the video and the app, I don't know what is.
But let me start at the beginning.
Less is more…
Start with the nearly 15-minute video short. As the creators acknowledge, the main character is an homage to the spectacularly deadpan Buster Keaton and the set-up is "Wizard of Oz"-like (and I'm a big fan of both, so perhaps that prejudices me toward the whole project).
The plot: Bookish Morris Lessmore is sitting on his second-floor New Orleans French Quarter balcony writing in a journal and surrounded by books. A strong wind kicks up – presumably Hurricane Katrina – and he is transported to a place where book fly and are literally alive. He's quite happy there – think the bookworm Burgess Meredith character in the Twilight Zone "Time Enough At Last" episode, except his solitude isn't caused by global devastation and he doesn't break his glasses.
As befitting an homage to Buster Keaton, "Morris Lessmore" is essentially a silent movie – there are music and sound effects, but no dialog, not even the usual interstitial dialog cards. No one and nothing "says" anything. Thankfully the computer graphic animation that tells this silent story is of Pixar quality, almost three dimensional on the iPad screen. It's beautifully rendered and beautifully (and, of course, whimsically) told.
I won't tell you any more – the video is just $2.99, so download and watch it yourself.
…more or less
But enough about the video. We're here to talk about the iPad app ($4.99).
"The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore," the iPad app, is essentially an interactive book of the video. There are 27 "pages" – actually screens, the interactive part occupying the top two-thirds, the text the bottom third. There is a narrator reading the text, which you can turn off so you can read it to your child. Leave the text visible if you want your child to follow along with you, or you can eliminate the words leaving just the interactive image on the screen. You can also mute the sound effects or the music, which often loops interminably if you dwell too long on a page.
But "Morris Lessmore" is more than a talking book iPad app. It's truly interactive in a way only a tablet can be. On every screen there are objects to drag, swipe and touch, each gesture triggering an action of some sort – audio, animated, sometimes both, sometimes more.
I don't want to spoil the fun by revealing any of these always inventive interactions – it'll be a voyage of discovery. Sometime interactive objects glow; sometime what you have to do is not always obvious. You'll have to guess, experiment, which is half the fun.
You could go through the iPad app first so you can guide your youngster through it (and it may take you an hour or more depending on how involved you get in all the activity), or maybe it'd be more fun to discover all the whimsical wonders with your child. S/he may understand what needs to be done more instinctually than you.
In either event, you'll have fun. They'll have fun. And with the success of "The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore," maybe we'll get a lot more of whimsical iPad apps like this – which may mean you'll never get your iPad back.
But if it triggers a curiosity in the magic of real books in your video-centric child – which it should – Morris will have done his job.
Whimsically.