Lear

An article in the Los Angeles Times discusses King Lear with regards to the aging Boomer generation. It begins with an indication that Boomers would find it a fitting role for their generation, which (as described below) doesn't seem quite right. However, the actual focus is on actors being of an appropriate age to take on the role, as the culmination of their career. The starting point was a production starring Boomer John Lithgow (b. 1945) in the title role, with Annette Bening (b. 1958) as  his daughter Goneril.

The play appears to occur during a Crisis period, with a kingdom sundered and the king wandering mad. Of course, it's Lear himself who divides the kingdom and evidently instigates the Crisis. His older daughters take advantage of their father's poor judgement to pursue their own agendas. The youngest daughter, meanwhile, allows herself to be exiled rather than engage in untoward flattery.

As an old man in a Fourth Turning, Lear would make sense as either a Prophet or Artist, but his actions point toward the latter.  Like the Compromise Generation in the mid-19th century, he takes actions that can be considered fair (Why shouldn't all his daughters be given an equal share? Why shouldn't we let the individual states vote up-or-down on slavery?) but which exacerbate existing problems and rivalries to the point that the nation collapses. Further, his decision isn't for any purpose more noble than to avoid future trouble and retire easily:

Know that we have divided
In three our kingdom: and 'tis our fast intent
To shake all cares and business from our age;
Conferring them on younger strengths, while we
Unburthen'd crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall,
And you, our no less loving son of Albany,
We have this hour a constant will to publish
Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife
May be prevented now.

The rest of the characters appear to fit, as well.  Goneril and Regan behave exactly as Nomads could be expected, practical but amoral. They indulge their father's request for words of love, receive their part of the kingdom, and then plot against him.  It's feasible that the youngest, Cordelia, could be a Hero, as a child born late to an Artist generation parent might be.  Her actions, at least, show a Hero story: She loses her share of the realm when she refuses to humor her father,  works with others to help him ... and ends up as a sacrifice (in all but name) for her troubles.

Which doesn't mean Boomers or other Prophets would be unable to handle the part. Although the Times' McNulty does not seem overly impressed. Although he goes on to say, as others have in the past, that Lear is better as literature than on stage. He does mention three exceptional filmed versions: two by Heroes (Scofield and Olivier) and one by an Artist (Ian Holm). If no recent Artist portrayal on stage has changed his mind, perhaps that's correct.

Apartment

If it's not enough that Wall*E has generational similarities to Jack Lemmon in The Apartment, it appears their movies move at a similar pace.

Start Wall*E at the same time as The Apartment, and listen to the audio on one while watching the other. It's not exactly The Wizard of Oz and Dark Side of the Moon, but they do have some similarities:
* Credits are a similar length, and the music beats match well with the credit dissolves either way.
* Both then move on to their respective cityscapes
* Wall*E and C.C. Baxter both end their work days at about the same time (although C.C. doesn't go home right away)
* They enter their domiciles (the BnL truck and the titular apartment) almost simultaneously.

The two don't match quite so well up after that, though. They do both watch old movies that night, head into work the next morning, and then their adventures begin. They both eventually have to confront their corrupt organizations, and if Wall*E's triumph is more complete Baxter's is still sufficient. Plus they both get their girl by the end.

Lemmon (born 1925) and Maclaine (1934) are both Silent Generation, and bear the brunt of the difficulties in the film. The executives who take advantage of them are all core G.I. Generation (well, the actors portraying them are, anyway) - at one point, they all appear in Baxter's office to push for "teamwork ... all for one and one for all." There seems to be no mention of the war, though, even though it ended only 15 years before.  Perhaps it would have been gratuitous, perhaps Wilder was in pursuit of timelessness.

Wilder (1906) was also G.I. - at least using American dates (he was born in what is now Poland), which may be why it's mostly a Hero story: The good guy wins, but sacrifice is required. (Hard to say that teamwork is involved, though.) Sheldrake may be damned, and the happy couple doomed, but neither is a foregone conclusion.

Wall•E

If you’ve seen Wall*E, you probably remember “Put On Your Sunday Clothes,” the tune from Hello Dolly that opens the film with it’s expectant “Out there...”

If you have a young child who really likes Wall*E, it  has probably played enough you can’t get it out of your head. In which case it might be worthwhile to look at some generational aspects of the film.

First, it’s not a film about a Crisis. Yes, Earth is a trash heap with only a cockroach, a plant, and a trash-compacting robot calling it home. It has been that way for hundreds of years as the film opens, though,  and isn’t undergoing any noticeable changes. Indeed, generational analysis only makes sense in the context of human culture and striving and  renewal, and without any humans there are no sociological structures like generations to analyze.  

Wall*E himself, however, was born during the actual Crisis - the one that was sufficiently dire for all of humanity to consider five-year tours in space as an acceptable option. That he is almost silent for the first part of the film makes it appropriate that, like the Silent Generation, he acts much like an Artist archetype. He is able to work independently, doesn’t intentionally take on the system - quite similar, in fact, to Jack Lemmon in The Apartment, heading home after his work day to be domestic and watch television. (And eventually taking on the corrupt organization that created him, but that's getting ahead of the story...)  As far as artistic leanings, he wants to dance like Michael Crawford (Silent, 1942), and  his collection of knick-knacks is like one of those art installations that resemble an artistically arranged garage. 

 From the point of view of the humans on the Axiom, meanwhile, it has been post-Crisis for seven hundred years. Organizations - the Captain and Auto and all the infrastructure that keeps the ship going - were made strong to confront the Crisis, and haven’t had any reason to change. It’s been bland, unchanging, “doing the exact same thing as [our forefathers]” for that entire time.

Which is unreasonable by generational thinking - at SOME point in those 8 saeculums, somebody would have rebelled... And perhaps tomorrow we will see what happens when when an Artist starts doing what comes naturally in the company of a younger model that IS willing to speak truth to power and fight City Hall. 

Corvettes

Neil Armstrong's Stingray is on display at the Kennedy Space Center.

If you didn't know that he had a Corvette, it still shouldn't be a surprise that he had a fast car. The Right Stuff documents how pilots in general, and test pilots in particular, enjoyed going fast - metaphorically and literally, air and ground. "Flying & Drinking and Drinking & Driving" is how Mr. Wolfe put it. While also mentioning that more fighter pilots died in crashes of automobiles than of aircraft.

Jim Lovell's Corvette

Jim Lovell had a Corvette as well. As did Gus Grissom...suddenly it's becoming clear why so many of these guys ended up as auto salesmen after they left the service. They liked cars. Oh, and according to Buzz Aldrin, GM was offering a "financially attractive arrangement" to astronauts, which appears to explain why almost everyone (including him) had a Corvette. (John Glenn used the promotion to get a station wagon.)

The Apollo 12 crew and their matching Corvettes.

Still, there's something iconic about the idea of the first man on the moon - and the second, and the next two (three if you count their command module pilot), and the first ones near the moon for that matter  - having a car that was representative of a new era Which was certainly's General Motor's plan, as well.

Most of the men mentioned here are Silent Generation  (John Glenn (born 1921) is the only GI.) Silents are a generation of the Artist archetype, and being able to move ground, air, or spacecraft well requires a particular artistry of its own.

(Although it may not do to read too much into that - the Mercury Seven were chosen for similar reasons, and their birth years are all a-straddle the GI/Silent boundary.)