The picture book, which has monochrome illustrations, tells us about siblings Judy and Peter, who play a board game they found in the park. When they land on various hazards in the game, such a lion, monsoon or monkeys, these become real. They must finish the game, causing everything to return to normal. Their parents, returning home, are none the wiser.

The film builds up a feature-length story, following the game through the years as a drum-beat draws children into unearthing it. A major feature of the story is that two children, Alan and Sarah, play the game, but Alan gets trapped in its world. Fast forward a few decades, when Peter and Judy, moving into the house which Alan used to live in, find the game there and that’s when Alan is freed, having become an adult. They then have to track down Sarah and continue play. Alan, played by the brilliant Robin Williams, is the main character (instead of Peter and Judy), with a background story exploring his conflict with his father, who owns a shoe factory.

One of the many changes is that the story is not confined to the house – a big problem when the monkeys escape and steal a police car! However, the worst creature to emerge from the game is a colonial-style hunter, Van Pelt (possibly inspired by the hapless guide from the book, who pores over a map). Alan, Sarah, Judy and Peter not only have to play the game and survive the hazards, they have to foil the hunter. I like how neatly the story is wrapped up, time travelling back to Alan’s childhood. The special effects are very good too.

The only detail from the book which I think should have been in the film, was that ‘Jumanji’ is a golden city that the players are aiming for.

Image credit: http://www.impawards.com/1995/jumanji_ver2.html, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=899077

Published in America in 1917 with charming (or creepy) illustrations by Mary Isobel Hunt, the aim of this book was to inspire children to make their own toys and use their imaginations. In the introduction, she says that children are more interested in homemade items than in finished toys bought from the shops, which I think may be true.

The descriptions and images of these dolls are accompanied by poems and even music. They are linked together by a narrative about the West children, who create and play with the dolls, eventually eating them (if edible) or burying the disintegrated ones. Some of the dolls (not pictured) display racist stereotypes but were no doubt very normal for the context and era.

Part of my random Project Gutenberg reads. Definitely the weirdest one yet.

The story is about General Jodhpur, a hulking figure covered in medals. He even wears medals on his pyjamas at night! He is obsessed with maintaining his army and wanting to be the most famous general. One day, when he falls off his horse, quite by chance, he discovers the beauty and harmony of nature. He realises how terrible it would be to destroy that beauty and decides to send his army home, where they can lead peaceful lives. When he meets with other generals, they are influenced by his example and declare him to be the most famous general in the world – not for his warmongering but for his dedication to peace.

The illustration style is very striking, as it has a limited palette of reds and blues with a little yellow and green. This gives a timeless appearance and also reminded me of Eastern European folk art. There are some very unusual perspectives, such as the aerial view of an army camp turned into a lovely city, which is a pattern of squares punctuated by large playing fields. General Jodhpur himself does not appear to be based on any specific real person, or be any particular nationality, as far as I can tell, but the other two generals, Custard and Marcovitch, in my opinion, may be American and Russian. As is pointed out in the afterword, the book also has an environmental message, which seems prescient; the World Wildlife Fund was founded in 1961 and Silent Spring was published the year after, but the environmental movement was still in its infancy.

Although the picture book is intended for children, it can be appreciated by adults too. In fact, the people in power today ought to read this book and really think about its message…

This edition was published in 2023 by Templar Books and is out now. Thank you to the publisher for the review copy.

The concept of the story is that the White Goblin, who was banished by the Rainbow Goblins, is now free to go on a colour-drinking rampage. He then has a vision of tall buildings and persuades the Cave Goblins, who are living harmoniously beneath the earth, to help him build cities. However, their greed causes eco-disaster, the world becomes colourless and the White Goblin can no longer control the capitalists he created.

Although there are some similarities to the previous book, this one is more complex, with more text and some truly terrifying apocalyptic scenes. Again there are religious parallels, with the White Goblin apparently baptising the cave-dwellers and literally opening their eyes, but he is a rogue messiah as he unintentionally brings a biblical level of destruction to the world.

I can’t find any information about the medium of Ul de Rico’s artwork for this book, but it looks like watercolour to me. Even if it’s oils, I don’t think they are on oak panels this time, as the images aren’t as grainy. The artwork is incredible although not always brightly coloured.

If you enjoyed The Rainbow Goblins, it’s well worth tracking down the sequel to add to your collection.

I was very impressed with the acting of Max Records, who plays the character of Max (interesting coincidence). The Wild Things were well crafted, with a combination of animatronics and CGI. They are much more expressive than their book counterparts but they look similar to the illustrations. I wasn’t quite prepared for their speech to be so ordinary but I suppose it matches their other human elements. They weren’t at all scary but they were violent.

So we can establish that the film looks great. The content is not so great. To be fair, there are only ten sentences in the picture book. It’s hard to fill the story out and keep it meaningful. I think some viewers will really enjoy the film because it expands on the themes in the book and gives reasons for Max’s behaviour. However, very little happens in between Max being declared king, and him leaving the island. I wasn’t keen on how his leaving was changed, either. In the book, the Wild Things are angry at him leaving and he escapes before they can eat him. I like the drama of that. In the film, he has a tender, long farewell for his sad friends, who are not monstrous at all. If we decide to accept everything in the film in a straightforward way and not in a symbolic sense, then it’s actually quite dull.

Not recommended unless you’re curious to see what they’ve done with the source material.

Low-resolution image from Wikipedia.

The story is about the fate of 7 hideous goblins who roam the earth, catching and drinking the colours of the rainbow. It’s never exactly explained why it’s so bad to drink rainbows, but the place the goblins want to invade – The Valley of the Rainbow, where these brightly-coloured phenomena are born – is a paradise where animals live in harmony. If the goblins get to the source of the rainbows, evil will reign over the land. You can see it as symbolic if you wish… or merely enjoy it as a story about goblins.

Although the story is good, if a little disturbing, the stunning artwork is the real attraction. Ul de Rico used oil paint on oak panels and you can actually see the grain in these reproductions. Combine this feature with the dark palette and the focus on sublime landscapes and we have artwork which is reminiscent of the Old Masters’ style. There’s even a parody of Leonardo’s The Last Supper, with the Yellow Goblin (the leader) in the place of Jesus. The trippiest images are reserved for the last few pages, a riot of vivid dripping flowers and soaring birds.

Definitely a book to treasure. Ul de Rico wrote a sequel called The White Goblin which I had to get my hands on, despite it being out of print and relatively expensive.

37 years after it was first broadcast on Channel 4, The Snowman is still a much-loved seasonal TV tradition in the UK. A 27-minute animated tale based on and expanded from Raymond Briggs’ 1978 picture book, it has a special place in the hearts of many people. I’m one of them. I must have watched The Snowman 100 times. While I’ve outgrown most of the things I liked as a child, I still find this one enchanting.

There are several elements which make it such a success. The dreamy quality of the animation, rendered by hand in pencil crayon. The magical story of a boy whose snowman comes to life. The excitement of waking up to a thick blanket of snow (now quite rare, at least where I live). That ‘Walking in the Air’ sequence as the snowman and boy soar over the British countryside and on to Scandinavia, over the swelling sea and arriving at the North Pole. Most important of all is the music. There is no dialogue or voiceover, so the sound is key to the atmosphere, emphasising the comedy moments, the tension, the magic.

I always get so involved in the story that I totally forget what’s coming, which explains why I feel devastated by the ending every time. It’s a cleverly simple ending – I don’t know how else it could end – but it still leaves me in need of a hug. My DVD version has David Bowie (a fan of Briggs’ work) introducing the tale, putting on a blue scarf patterned with snowmen, as if he was the boy in the animation, who by the way is called James (it’s on the label of the parcel given by Father Christmas). Regarding the scarf, I always found it a disappointing present. Poor James is at the North Pole – couldn’t he have gloves too? And a hat? And also something fun, in addition to the practical things? But to his credit, James is happy with what he’s given. If he’d have preferred a BMX bike and a Lego train set, he keeps quiet about it. And of course, it’s often noted that children used to be happier, with less material wealth.

I will never tire of watching The Snowman. It will always be magic.

Low-resolution poster sourced from Wikipedia.

Written and illustrated by David McKee, published by Andersen Press in the UK and by other publishers around the world, the first picture book about the patchwork elephant appeared (in its current version) in 1989. With a striking multicoloured cover, the book introduced the character of Elmer. He has a sense of fun, compared to the other boringly grey elephants. His family – also patchwork patterned but with different colours – appear in later books.

The Elmer books are about being true to yourself, celebrating diversity, respecting others and making the most of opportunities. Happy birthday, Elmer!

This picture book is about the time travels of Timothy Mean, a little boy who builds a time machine out of cardboard boxes and glue. He goes on a fun adventure with it every day of the week. Despite his name, he’s not mean as such, but he’s cheeky. He plays pranks on his parents when they were schoolkids, humiliates pirates and Vikings, pulls a T-Rex’s tail and embarrasses the first man on the moon. It’s a fun idea which demonstrates the power of children’s imaginations.

I liked the range of time travel situations, all of which appeal to children. The themes are traditionally those that appeal to boys: Vikings, pirates, dinosaurs, outer space, dragons, pranks. As the protagonist is also a boy, I think we can safely suggest that this would be a great suggestion if you’re looking for picture books designed to appeal to boys with those interests. I would say the book can be enjoyed from the age of three (when children are able to understand stories and recognise elements of the pictures) but might be appreciated most around the age of five.

The story is written in rhyme with repetition, ensuring that the phrases are memorable for a young audience. Rhyming can be difficult to get right. Some of the rhymes don’t really ‘scan’ in this book, but I’m not sure this would matter much to a child. Plus, slightly contrived rhyming words are all part of the fun. The use of punctuation and capital letters is not consistent in the book. Again, I doubt a child would notice, but I think plenty of adults would.

I love Marcelo Simonetti’s energetic illustrations. They complement the fun text and give a sense of exuberance. There is enough detail to keep children’s interest while the text is being read aloud by the adult.

Thank you to the author, William A E Ford (no relation!) for the e-book provided for review. Check out his website here. Timothy Mean and the Time Machine was published independently this year and is available to buy from Amazon in paperback and Kindle book formats.

Samples of the book used by permission of the author.

Wiesner creates the kind of picture books that anyone can enjoy. Most of his stories have very few words, or no words at all, so you have to ‘read’ the pictures. When you open a Wiesner book, you learn to expect the unexpected. The stories and illustrations are surreal, charming and memorable. They are most definitely not just for children! He’s won the Caldecott Medal – a prestigious award for American picture books – three times.

My favourite is Mr Wuffles!. An adorable house-cat battles against a tiny spaceship disguised as a toy. The aliens are conspiring with the ants to take over the world. Will they succeed or will the heroic Mr Wuffles save the day?

Wiesner’s take on The Three Pigs sees the characters journey out of the book, into other fairy tales. He subverts the classic tale – when it begins, you think you know what’s going to happen, but things quickly get surreal.

In Flotsam, a boy finds an old camera washed up on the beach. When he develops the photos, he sees amazing underwater cities… and a child holding a photo of another child, who is holding a photo of another child, and so on, back through time.

Art & Max is about two lizard friends who love painting, but Max’s exuberant amateur style annoys Arthur, who is an experienced artist. I find this book to be an interesting exploration of creativity and a reminder to experiment.

There isn’t exactly much of a story to Tuesday. Basically it looks like a ordinary Tuesday evening, until the frogs fly out of the ponds and cruise through the sky on their lily pads. Will anyone notice? Why is it happening? I suppose it must be magic. The illustrations certainly are magical.