Montgomery Education Foundation's Brain Forest Summer Learning Academy was spotlighted Wednesday at Carver High School.  The academic-enrichment program is for rising 4th, 5th, and 6th graders in the Montgomery Public School system.  Community Program Director Dillion Nettles, says the program aims to prevent learning loss during summer months.  To find out how your child can participate in next summer's program visit Montgomery-ed.org

A police officer is free on bond after being arrested following a rash of road-sign thefts in southeast Alabama.  Brantley Police Chief Titus Averett says officer Jeremy Ray Walker of Glenwood is on paid leave following his arrest in Pike County.  The 30-year-old Walker is charged with receiving stolen property.  Lt. Troy Johnson of the Pike County Sheriff's Office says an investigation began after someone reported that Walker was selling road signs from Crenshaw County.  Investigators contacted the county engineer and learned signs had been reported stolen from several roads.

NPR Politics presents the Lunchbox List: our favorite campaign news and stories curated from NPR and around the Web in digestible bites (100 words or less!). Look for it every weekday afternoon from now until the conventions.

Convention Countdown

The Republican National Convention is in 4 days in Cleveland.

The Democratic National Convention is in 11 days in Philadelphia.

NASA has released the first picture of Jupiter taken since the Juno spacecraft went into orbit around the planet on July 4.

The picture was taken on July 10. Juno was 2.7 million miles from Jupiter at the time. The color image shows some of the atmospheric features of the planet, including the giant red spot. You can also see three of Jupiter's moons in the picture: Io, Europa and Ganymede.

The Senate is set to approve a bill intended to change the way police and health care workers treat people struggling with opioid addictions.

My husband and I once took great pleasure in preparing meals from scratch. We made pizza dough and sauce. We baked bread. We churned ice cream.

Then we became parents.

Now there are some weeks when pre-chopped veggies and a rotisserie chicken are the only things between us and five nights of Chipotle.

Parents are busy. For some of us, figuring out how to get dinner on the table is a daily struggle. So I reached out to food experts, parents and nutritionists for help. Here is some of their (and my) best advice for making weeknight meals happen.

"O Canada," the national anthem of our neighbors up north, comes in two official versions — English and French. They share a melody, but differ in meaning.

Let the record show: neither version of those lyrics contains the phrase "all lives matter."

But at the 2016 All-Star Game, the song got an unexpected edit.

At Petco Park in San Diego, one member of the Canadian singing group The Tenors — by himself, according to the other members of the group — revised the anthem.

School's out, and a lot of parents are getting through the long summer days with extra helpings of digital devices.

How should we feel about that?

Police in Baton Rouge say they have arrested three people who stole guns with the goal of killing police officers. They are still looking for a fourth suspect in the alleged plot, NPR's Greg Allen reports.

"Police say the thefts were at a Baton Rouge pawn shop early Saturday morning," Greg says. "One person was arrested at the scene. Since then, two others have been arrested and six of the eight stolen handguns have been recovered. Police are still looking for one other man."

A 13-year-old boy is among those arrested, Greg says.

Copyright 2016 NPR. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.

Pages

Two Films, Two Takes On Living With Genocide

Oct 11, 2012

Simon and the Oaks, a handsomely upholstered Swedish drama about two troubled families trying to survive World War II, is based on a runaway best-selling novel by Marianne Fredriksson. The film was made with money from several Scandinavian countries once occupied by the Nazis, as well as from Germany itself. It won a truckload of Swedish Oscars, and in the accolades heaped upon the movie, the word "epic" is thrown around with abandon.

That's an awful lot of love for a sudsy family saga that owes much to the maternal melodramas cranked out by Hollywood in and around the war years. I mean no disrespect: That genre was mother's milk to me, and I love it still. But it is what it is, which is emphatically not enough to bear the weight of genocide.

That's not to say that the Holocaust should be off-limits to filmmakers, especially in countries struggling to come to terms with their passivity or collaboration with Hitler's fascism. And to director Lisa Ohlin's credit, the Third Reich draws close enough for the movie to face the awkward fact that, as early as 1939, Nazi anti-Semitism had its share of sympathizers in Sweden. But then history quickly pulls away into the background, where it functions as a loose thread warping the otherwise warm affection between two families in a remote, beautiful corner of Sweden.

Heavily larded with repeat happenstance, Simon packs the intertwined lives of two boyhood friends with secrets and lies, parallels and contrasts that blare out of the endlessly twisting plot. For starters, the boys seem to have inherited each other's fathers. So sensitive and musical is Simon (played as a doe-eyed child by Jonatan S. Wachter and as a young adult by Bill Skarsgard) that his muscled working-class hero of a father, Erik (Stefan Godicke), despairs of his survival in a world of schoolyard bullies. By contrast, Simon's friend Isak (Karl Martin Eriksson) feels like a fish out of water in the affluent home of his father Ruben (Jan Josef Liefers), an arts-loving Jewish bookseller.

Simon goes to the opera with Ruben; Isak gets into woodworking with Erik. Mercifully, we will not discover that the boys were switched at birth, but unwittingly they share more than a sense of chronic anachronicity, as becomes clear when Isak moves in with Simon's family after the Nazis approach. The two families grow close, but they're strained by jealousy and betrayal, not to mention by tensions of class and ethnicity. That ought to cover the emotional bases, but there's more: Ruben falls for Simon's gentle, supportive mother (Helen Sjoholm), while two madwomen in the attic stand ready to muddy the roiling waters.

Simon and the Oaks is period-perfect, sepia-pretty and visually inventive in ways that make you wonder if you're watching a movie aimed at tween drama queens. Clouds resolve into camel trains; there's fire and poison and scads of scenic weather — all of which is satisfying in a whatever-next sort of way. Unfortunately, the Third Reich can't compete.

The problem is not that the Holocaust is relegated to backdrop. In fact, it's smart of Ohlin to keep a respectful distance from the footage of piled-up corpses that have become the overused currency of the subgenre. In focusing on the war's psychic wreckage, though, her film trades in florid cliche: the neurotically fearful Jewish mother who goes to extremes to protect her family; a daughter so destroyed by Auschwitz that she comes alive only in sadomasochistic sex ripped off from the truly toxic '70s film The Night Porter; and so on (and exhaustingly on) until Simon, leaping to wild conclusions, cruelly punishes those he loves most, and lives to repent at leisure.

Worst of all is the hitching of all this extravagant suffering to an inspirational ending filled with sweet regret, healing hope and some picturesque nestling in the titular oaks with the next generation. That may be as comforting to moviegoers as the closing scenes of Schindler's List or Life is Beautiful or any other film that implies, knowingly or not, that the Holocaust had an upside. That's entertainment, I guess, but I have to ask — do we really want to go there?

Nazis also lurk in the wings of a sweet, child-friendly new French film billed as "a true story of the Resistance," in which a village rises to defend a Jewish girl from deportation by Vichy collaborators to a German concentration camp.

Like Simon and the Oaks, War of the Buttons has an idyllic setting, a father-son conflict and a coming-of-age dilemma. It's structured by the same parallel battles and romances, secrets and betrayals, ethical choices with both buttons and human lives at stake. But in tone and ambiance, War of the Buttons is another kind of domestic drama altogether, drenched not in hyperbole but in honeyed violins and the golden light of full-bodied nostalgia. At a time when most family movies come processed through extreme software and 3-D glasses, this film's gentle vision of the simple life has its old-fashioned charms — though they press too hard on the emo buttons for my taste.

The short-panted boys at the movie's center go into battle with catapults, wooden swords and upended saucepans for helmets. Their leader, Lebrac (played by Jean Texier, a mini-Belmondo with more sullen sex appeal than a movie this wholesome can hope to contain), is at war not just with a rival gang, but with his authoritarian father (Kad Merad), whom he takes for a coward. Lebrac also has his own stirring libido to deal with as he falls for a pretty Jewish transplant from Paris (Ilona Bachelier), whose sophistication he finds both alluring and intimidating.

Meanwhile, a war with higher stakes is being fought among the adults. Led by the girl's beautiful guardian (Laetitia Casta) and the local schoolteacher (a twinkly Guillaume Canet), the village squares off into a mettle-testing struggle over the girl, and by extension over the collective guilt of Vichy France.

That a family picture should own up to French collaboration is not nothing, given that France came so late to examine its checkered history under German occupation. But it's not much of an apology, either. War of the Buttons deftly folds France's unsavory collusions into a rather more rousing tale of resistance. I don't doubt that some of these heroics happened. But the way they're framed conveniently takes the edge off saying sorry.

Copyright 2012 National Public Radio. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.