Gromit Never Speaks

W + G

As I began to write this article, it dawned on me that readers may not know who Wallace and Gromit are.  Oh dear. How is that possible?  They have appeared in a full-length film and 4 shorts (approximately 30 minutes each) from 1989 to 2008.  They are the product of Nick Park who created these British clay animation figures.  (See above) Wallace is an inventor and Gromit is his friend/pet dog.  Their film adventures are funny, unique, and have received (Academy Awards’) nominations and awards.

 

W+G+cheese

Their first effort was “A Grand Day Out.”  The short film followed Wallace and Gromit as they attempted to prove what everyone believes is true: the moon is made of cheese.  Wallace, with assistance from the always capable Gromit, builds a space ship and they fly to the moon.  Once there, they quickly find out, as they walk on the moon’s surface, that “yes, indeed”, the moon is created of their favorite snack: cheese.  (see above) 

In each film adventure, it is very evident that Wallace depends on Gromit to create inventions and succeed in his adventures.  For example, in their film, “The Curse of the Were-Rabbit “, they discover that such a creature does indeed exist and threatens the giant vegetable crop everyone depends upon.  Can Wallace and Gromit find and stop the destruction caused by such a mean creature. (What would be your guess?)

You will notice that Gromit never speaks.  His behavior is always appropriate and helpful to his friend, Wallace, but he never verbalizes his thoughts.  Why not? The reason is simple: he has no mouth. And no eyebrows either.  But his emotional range is not affected by his silence. His facial expressions and body language convey his every emotion.  His lack of speech does not limit his communication or take away from his sense of humor or his ability to assist his friend, or limit his ability to entertain you. (see below)

 Gromit

 

If you have never seen any of the work by Wallace and Gromit, please catch them whenever and wherever you can.  They will always provide you with laughter and an enjoyable adventure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

W + G

About rcarmean

Two things... First, why have I decided to establish this blog? I like to put essays together. I research an idea or topic looking for information, statistics, stories, quotes, pictures, etc. I enjoy the process and seeing a finished product. I’m told that as I get older, new activities can help maintain energy and keep my brain alert. In other words, I am not doing this for money or fame. Second, regarding the gentleman in the collage of pictures above...it's not me. Those are photos of Christy Mathewson. Why him? When I was young, my primary activity was being sick. It took up much of my time. Eczema (a case so bad I was written up in a medical journal showing doctors what their patients COULD look like), asthma, and allergies. You know allergies: don’t eat this, don’t wear that, and, for Heaven’s sake, don’t touch any of these things (eg, dogs, cats, horses --I only saw horses in cowboy movies and TV shows, dust, swimming pools, my brother --OK, that’s an exaggeration, Rick was a fine brother). In my spare time between doctors' appointments, pills, and ointments, baseball kept me sane. In the 1940s and 1950s, when I grew up, pro footballI and basketball had not yet become extremely popular. Baseball truly was “the national pastime.” I listened to games on the radio (remember it? TV without the picture). I read magazines, books, and newspaper accounts of games. I collected baseball cards. I learned about the game’s history, as well as present. The same with its stars. One man stood out: Christy Mathewson. He was a great pitcher for the New York Giants in the early 20th century. But there was much more to him. At a time when professional athletes made little money (yes, there was such a time) and ball players were considered on the same level as actors, artists, and prostitutes, Mathewson stood out. One of his nicknames was: “The Christian Gentleman.” Most men is baseball drank, smoked, cursed, and fought —with other players, umpires, and fans. The fights were physical, not just verbal. Mathewson did none of these things. But he earned the respect of other players who did them all. Even Ty Cobb and John McGraw. There’s more. He was a college graduate (Bucknell University) when most men were lucky to have a high school diploma. He played other sports, including pro football which you wouldn’t recognize. He was handsome. He played in New York City, then as now, the largest city in the country. Excellence and popularity there meant fame and money. He dressed well. Today, his commercials would rival LeBron’s. And, finally, a hero’s life must have tragedy. After his playing career ended, WWI arrived. He suffered from influenza and was exposed to mustard gas. Chemical warfare. His lungs were damaged and he required treatment for the rest of his life. (Like my Grandfather who also fought in The Great War.) He died in 1925. He was 45 years old. I have his picture here because you need to know more about him than me. He was what an athlete could be. Players like him and their accomplishments got me through a sickly, painful childhood and can still sustain me in difficult times. *****
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