Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

I was born in 1973, and watching Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood was a huge part of my early childhood, something I’d watch every day until I was old enough to go to school. Along with other PBS shows like Sesame Street, The Electric Company, Write On, and the later 3-2-1 Contact!, they made appointment viewing for me before the term even existed.

(Side note: My parents swear I loved the mid-70s show Zoom, but unlike the shows I mentioned above and a few others, I have zero memory whatsoever of Zoom, other than that You Can’t Do That on Television! borrowed its format and one time had its actors sing Zoom‘s theme song.)

So the new documentary Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, about the show Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood and to some extent about its star and creator, couldn’t be more squarely aimed at me. Featuring extensive interviews with almost everyone who was involved in the show, it gives viewers a behind-the-scenes look at the program and provides some historical perspective to the show’s importance, although I don’t think it does nearly enough to explain who Fred Rogers was and what drove him to create this seminal yet utterly counterintuitive television program for the youngest viewers.

Won’t You Be My Neighbor? focuses on the story of Fred Rogers from the advent of the TV show until his death in 2003, with just scant references to his life before he created Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood at Pittsburgh’s public television station WQED. Other than Betty (Lady) Aberlin, who was interviewed but declined to appear on camera (as she apparently felt too self-conscious), it seems like director Morgan Neville talked to everyone living who might have something to tell us about the show, including the actors who played Mr. and Mrs. McFeely, Officer Clemons, and Handyman Negri; producer/director Margy Whitmer and floor manager Nick Tallo; Rogers’ widow and two sons; and his longtime friend Yo-Yo Ma. Combined with clips from multiple interviews Rogers gave over his career about his work and the show, along with quite a bit of archival footage from the show itself and behind the scenes, the documentary manages to explain why Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood was so influential and yet seemed so out of place in an environment that thought children needed faster-paced shows and often used the medium simply to sell stuff to young viewers.

But there is a lot missing from this story, both about Rogers himself and the pre-history of his show. The film does include some clips of The Children’s Corner, the first show he created for WQED and the place where many of the puppets who appeared on the later show were first conceived, one of which was an ad hoc fill-in because the show was live and the film strip they had been airing had melted or otherwise broken down on air. It omits the show he created for the CBC, Misterogers, which contributed numerous elements to the later WQED show, and has no mention of his former colleague Ernie Coombs, who became Canada’s Mister Dressup, a show that had much in common with Rogers’ show and which (Wikipedia claims) contributed some songs to the latter.

There are a few hints along the way about Rogers’ life before the Neighborhood, but hardly enough to give us a full picture of his character. Rogers was 40 years old when the first episodes of the show aired, having joined, left, and returned to the seminary, and participated in at least two other shows before his big success. Of his childhood, we learn little; there’s a reference to “Fat Freddy” near the end of the film, but it’s barely explained (and if the pictures we’re shown are any indication, he seemed hardly overweight). He had a quixotic obsession with the number 143, which to him stood for “I love you,” including maintaining his weight at 143 for most of his adult life. That seems like something we might explore more, but other than two of his friends commenting on it being “weird” we get nothing more.

Instead, Neville chose to include some truly tangential material like the right-wing attacks on Rogers’ show and philosophy or the PSAs Rogers filmed after the 9/11 attacks, none of which is that interesting or elucidating on this man whose character still resonates and yet still seems too good to be true. Of all of the archive footage shown that wasn’t directly part of the Neighborhood, none seems to get at this conundrum more than the cringeworthy interview Tom Snyder conducted with Rogers, in which Snyder asks Rogers if he’s “straight.” While I know the question – coming right after Snyder asked “are you square?” – could simply be asking Rogers if his character is really who he is, there’s an undeniable subtext, one this documentary acknowledges, that people assumed Rogers was gay. It is unfathomable to my ears today that an interviewer would ask such a question, but at the same time, showing it now reminds the audience that people have questioned Rogers’ authenticity for a half-century now. Won’t You Be My Neighbor? is a beautiful trip down the nostalgia path, and does its part to convince the viewer that Mister Rogers is very close to who the real Fred Rogers was; unfortunately it does very little to tell us why.

Comments

  1. Odd, in that I’m a few years older and loved Zoom too – but nowadays I can only remember a single skit that stuck in my head. I wonder if the key to shows like that being memorable is the creation of memorable characters, which Zoom’s format didn’t do. I don’t think I can remember the specifics of a single Sesame skit, but of course you can’t forget Sesame Street because you don’t forget Big Bird or Oscar.