Fred Rogers with Daniel Striped Tiger, a recurring character on his TV show.
It’s part of my family legend that when children’s television host Fred Rogers signed off at the end of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood — saying “You’ve made this day a special day by just your being you.” — I used to kiss the TV.
It was all I could do to not run up to kiss the screen (and the whole audience) when the new documentary, Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, screened to a sold-out crowd at this year’s Wisconsin Film Festival.
I hadn’t watched a clip from the show since I was a kid, so I wasn’t quite sure what to expect in this doc from Morgan Neville, who also made the excellent 20 Feet from Stardom. But my heart was warmed to near exploding by seeing the great man on screen.
What was it about Mister Rogers that spoke to so many children and parents? Margy Whitmer, one of the producers of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, says “If you take all the elements that make good television and do the exact opposite, you have Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood — low production values, simple set, an unlikely star — yet it worked.”
The show was simple, and had at its core, a gentleness, an acceptance of all human beings. Mister Rogers told you it was okay to have feelings, even to be sad and scared. And he listened. Many clips show him focused intently on what a child is saying, and responding in the moment.
The show, which had its origins at a local station in Pittsburgh, became the longest-running children’s show (before it was recently surpassed by Sesame Street). And this documentary demonstrates what a radical force Rogers was, despite his soothing and calm demeanor. Rogers devoted episodes to war, death, assassination and divorce, and created an inclusive multiracial cast that was groundbreaking in its time.
And the ’60s were a tumultuous time. Won’t You Be My Neighbor? contrasts footage of white racists pouring chemicals on black kids in an integrated swimming pool with Fred on his TV show, taking his shoes off and sharing a foot bath in a kiddie pool with Officer Clemmons (Francois Clemmons), who is black.
Scenes of Clemmons tearing up in remembrance of Rogers will melt even the hardest heart. Clemmons, a gifted singer, appears in a lot of the documentary, and he did a “Note to Self” segment on CBS This Morning on June 8. He calls himself “Buttercup,” noting that he will endure teasing for being “sweet.” Of Rogers, he says, “When you meet this man, something is going to draw you, in a way that nobody else ever drew you, and will pull you.”
We learn in the documentary that Clemmons is gay, and Rogers’ show wasn’t quite ready for a public coming out. But Clemmons is clear that Rogers knew, and accepted and loved him for who he was. Knowing this provides extra punch when we see Clemmons singing, in his beautiful tenor: “There are many ways to say I love you.”
We also see a quietly fierce Rogers in 1969, testifying before a Senate subcommittee when funding for public television is being threatened. “I give an expression of care every day to each child to help him know that he is unique,” says Rogers, making eye contact with the grumpy Sen. John Pastore, who was fed up after two days of listening to rote speeches. “I feel that if we can make it clear that feelings are mentionable and manageable, we will have done a great service for mental health.” As Rogers continues, Pastore says he’s getting goosebumps. Then Rogers asks permission to share lyrics from a song about control. “What do you do with the mad that you feel? When you feel so mad you could bite? When the whole wide world seems oh, so wrong, and nothing you do seems very right? It’s great to be able to stop when you’ve planned a thing that is wrong — and be able to do something else instead. I can stop when I want to, can stop when I wish…”
Later in his life, Rogers felt discouraged about the state of the world, especially after 9/11, and it was tough for him to connect to the optimism that fueled the show.
But his message, imparted to millions of children over decades, remains salient: “Love is at the root of everything — all learning, all relationships — love or the lack of it.”