There’s this thing called baseball, for some reason. Anyway, for a long time we didn’t let black people play it with white people, until that changed. Some of that happened in Canada, so you better believe we have a Heritage Moment about Jackie Robinson. The Moment opens in a locker room of the Montreal Royals (but we don’t get to see any dongs) as team owner or manager or whatever he was, Mr. Rickey, introduces the team to Jackie, the first black man to play in whatever league of their little game they are in. Later (his first game, I guess?) Jackie is at bat, but the opposing pitcher hits him with the ball. Jackie’s teammates are upset by this, naturally, but so is the Canadian crowd (we sadly don’t get to see if the pitcher looks sheepishly at his feet while mumbling that he’s sorry). Before long (four innings, according to my research, is less than a week), the crowd is chanting Jackie’s name and Racism has to crawl back into its cave to strike another day.

First of all, I doubt that Jackie’s teammates first learned about Jackie one day when Mr. Rickey came along and said, “Hey, check out this new guy!” Probably it came up in conversation before that? I don’t know for sure, but it seems likely to me. Also, we all know that in the real world Mr. Rickey was played by Harrison Ford. The real problem highlighted in this piece though, see that sign behind Jackie saying “No Women or Children Allowed.” When are we going to let women and children into our sports team locker rooms? When will the we finally be together? Also, “No spitting”? Whatever, man.

Okay, anyway, it may have come across that I think baseball is ridiculous and pointless. That is correct. But Jackie Robinson’s story isn’t one about winning a baseball game, it’s about breaking down the arbitrary barriers that racism built up in society. If those barriers exist in some silly game, it is as important to break them there as anywhere. For that reason, I can actually care about Jackie Robinson’s story. How does the Moment do? Well, it’s a bit cheesy (Montreal Royal with Cheese?), but it tells the story clearly in the time allowed, and makes Canadians feel good about themselves by having the crowd support him. That’s what these are supposed to be for. Sadly, there’s no lines that are burned into my head (though I’d love to have Mr. Rickey’s introduction of Jackie down), and that is what PDR considers most important. Altogether, I suppose I’d have to give this Heritage Moment Four out of Six Pieces of PDR’s Reviewing System Cake.

It’s 1957 and Nat Taylor has a problem. He’s still making money on one movie, so he can’t play another movie in his theatre! OOHHHH NOOOOO! But then he realizes he can order the new one if he plays the other movie on his smaller screen. With that problem solved, he invents the multiplex.

I don’t want to diminish the achievements of Nat Taylor, I really don’t, but… is this really worth a Be A Proud Canadian commercial? I mean, sure, I like going to the theatre and having lots of screens so I can choose which movie I want to see on them, but that doesn’t seem… that great… y’know? It really is just… more screens. I consider this achievement less important than, say, education, healthcare, sexual equality, or Superman. When it comes to “national pride”, this isn’t even up there inventing or winning some ridiculous sport. Maybe it is just me and my unmitigated antinationalist boobery, but I don’t see how this is something to be proud of. It’s like being proud that you’re from the same country as the guy who invented bigger bus stops or something.

All that said, I like Nat Taylor as he is depicted in this piece. He’s got an old-timey Charles Foster Kane sort of businessman vibe. I also love his moustache and his cigar. I enjoy the way we start out in black and white (though it really took him fifteen years to realize “I can do more screens”?). I can’t decide if I like or hate the way he first unveils the fifteen screens and then, when questioned, reveals the full twenty-one. What is the point of that little momentary hiding of six screens?

There’s practically no music and no really good quotes (though I think I’ll like referring to foreign films as “this foreign movie” when I have a chance), but all in all, I don’t dislike this one. I’ll give it Three and a Half Pieces of PDR’s Reviewing System Cake.

There’s this street in Winnipeg where a bunch of guys had to go to war. Three of them won the Victoria Cross, so they decided to rename the street to reflect the magnitude of heroism that had come out of there. That’s the story of Valour Road.

I have mentioned more than once that my favorite thing about these is the way they’ve been burned into the minds of my generation. Usually this means that we can utilize quotes from the commercials at nearly any situation in life. While someone MIGHT be able to find a use for “It’s Clark! I just heard he took out twenty Germans!” most of this commercial is not quotable. But it is still burned into my head. I know ever beat of this commercial like I’m watching some old action film I’ve seen a dozen times. The whole commercial is in my head and it is staying there. Apart from that we’ve got some quality war scenes here. I’ve seen actual movies that don’t look as good this minute-long commercial for a second rate country.

We do, however, sidestep the fact that these three war heroes were probably not the only kids from Pine Street who went off to war. I bet there were a dozen total dillholes from Pine Street that went to war and we just jerks about it. Valour Road thinks that it is so special, but they got jerks like everyone else, I bet.

Anyway, I’m doling out a healthy Four and a Half Pieces of PDR’s Reviewing System Cake for this Heritage Moment.

I don’t know quite what it is, but this feels like one of the least educational or captivating Heritage Moments I’ve seen. It’s like this: These guys are practicing music. They have to practice O Canada. They don’t do it well for a second. Then they do it well.

I like that one guy’s accent (are Les Voltigeurs de Quebec a bilingual group or is he speaking Engish because he knows he’s being used to fill Canadian children in the future with national pride?). I like the way he laughs when they don’t play well the first time (I know nothing of professional music. Are they really expected to do it perfectly the first time they see the sheet music?). That’s about all I got here. It’s not bad, it’s just there.

I’m only giving this one Two out of Six Pieces of PDR’s Reviewing System Cake. It washes over me and leaves nothing behind. That’s that. I’m done thinking about it.

This time we meet Joe Tyrrell, a scientist who discovers dinosaur bones. Surprise dinosaur bones are, like, seven times better than regular dinosaur bones. Canada wins!

This one gets a Piece of Cake for the soundtrack. Mostly I mean the native chanting there, but there’s a bit of other stuff going on. That all adds up to a nice bit of atmosphere.

I’ll dole out another Piece of Cake for Tyrrell himself. He’s got a beard worth respect. Also, this is another case of only having one person during the whole Moment. He carries it himself, aided only by the landscape, and it works out fine. Its interesting how sometimes they can fit so much story into a minute, and other times they do so little. It doesn’t hurt this piece to be simple, though, because there’s not much expansion you can do with a “guy finds surprise dinosaur bones” plot.

I’ll throw another Piece at it for being about dinosaurs. Dinosaurs are literally dinosaurs. So they’re awesome. And one more Piece for the phrase “Grandfather of the Buffalo”, which is totally cool and deserves more play (and is as close as this piece comes to a quotable bit).

So thanks to math, I know that this Heritage Moment has earned Four Pieces of PDR’s Reviewing System Cake. Not bad.