MARCUS BREWER, TWO

He’s a child, but he’s also a major character. We won’t be able to use his physical qualities to help determine his Enneagram — he’s not mature enough for that. The costume designer has made strong choices, though, that give him a definite physical presence.

For instance, awkwardness. The shoes are in the script. Marcus wears a brown loafer, something unathletic (as well as uncool). The trainers are his for only a brief time, basically showing that they aren’t a physical match for his character (as well as continuing the bullying storyline).

Not a Body Type. Not a Head Type, either. He’s clearly a Heart. Community, connection, social gathering — these are the theme. Marcus represents all the arguments for these things, going directly against (and ultimately persuading) Will and his lifestyle. Marcus wins, and he does so by repeatedly throwing himself into a difficult social milieu. Very Heart Type.

He’s not a Three. Can Threes even be bullied? And he’s much too unstylish to be a Four. That rainbow sweater! Oops, jumper, as they say across the pond.

He must be a Two, which makes sense with his generous nature. Instead of collecting gadgets or gewgaws, Marcus collects people. Friends and family.

WILL FREEMAN, FOUR

I didn’t even know he had a last name! It’s Will the Cool Guy, Will of the Carefully Disheveled Hair, Will of the Units of Time.

I love Will.

He is a wonderful mix of brutal honesty and deep deception. His narration, something that pains me normally, is an exception to the rule. Because “Santa’s Super Sleigh” impacts his life so thoroughly, this is most definitely a Christmas movie.

Well, he’s quite concerned about other peoples’ opinions. He pretends he isn’t, thus his armor of cool, but he’s devastated when Rachel might not like him. This is why the climax, when he sings in front of the whole school, is so powerful. He’s really risking something. Disapproval is the worst thing he can face.

Heart Type? Most people want to be liked, but it’s not the defining character trait for them.

Will’s a Four! He’s witty, cutting. Mostly we see his veneer rather than his lows and highs, but they’re there, hiding. A loner, he achieves community, friendship, and connection at the end of the movie. Vulnerability opens up a better life for him. It’s a beautiful message and a lovely film.

And the apple beelining for his head makes me fall off the couch laughing every time.

RIPPED PANTS

ONE

Our first look at Goo Lagoon, introduced by the French-accented narrator! The bottom of the ocean has a beach. You realize it’s a paradox, and then you accept the new reality.

Sandy (in full astronaut suit) and Spongebob sit out under an umbrella. Using sand Spongebob does a few impersonations that get Sandy laughing. All is companionable.

TWO

Larry the Lobster (Hi, Larry!) asks Sandy if she’d like to lift weights with him. Now Spongebob no longer has Sandy all to himself.

THREE

He’s sad. He has to follow along after them or be left behind.

FOUR

Various feats of strength, with a cheering crowd watching. Spongebob tries to join in by clean-and-jerking a stick. As the others add weights to their bars, Spongebob finds two marshmallows to add to his stick.

He tries mightily, while the crowd breaks into snoring, but can’t lift his stick. Instead, he rips his pants from the exertion. He’s terribly embarrassed — red-cheeked — until Sandy laughs and says it was hilarious.

SWITCH

A rainbow forms behind Spongebob’s head.

FIVE

And thus ensues a series of events where Spongebob rips his pants for the laughs. It works for a while, and then the laugh starts to get old.

For everyone. Including me. Haha! Sorry, this episode is not one of my beloved re-watches.

When Spongebob pretends to drown he loses all the good will on the beach, especially from Sandy.

SIX

Alone and sad again. A tumbleweed blows by him on the deserted beach.

Yay, another paradox!

SEVEN

Spongebob feels like a loser. When others step forward to claim the title of biggest loser, Spongebob listens and accepts their claims.

EIGHT

And he starts a surf band with them! They sing, play sand instruments, and even have a real-life half-pipe wave background like a music video. The episode is saved! The crowd cheers. Sandy hugs him.

NINE

Larry asks for Spongebob to sign his pants. As he does, his tighty-whities rip, and he’s embarrassed again, putting his hands over his spongey yellow nakedness.

SALLY, SEVEN

A rebel, obviously. She’s very determined to help — stalk? — Jack. She’ll poison the doctor in order to escape. She’s so very mild-mannered while being utterly ruthless! What a great character.

Sally is very likable, very relatable. Her shyness, her doubt, her bravery. She’s also curious.

So many qualities! How to narrow her down to an Enneagram number?

We’re in an imagined reality with Rules of the Magic that work against discovering her, but even with that we can say she isn’t a Body Type. She throws herself out a window and lands with a thud! She’s a trooper about the whole thing, stitching herself back together, but she goes ka-splat.

Wait. A trooper. Is she a Six?

She’s regimented about right and wrong. She even says, “This feels wrong,” about the Sandy Claws plan. Staying with the doctor is wrong to her, and so she won’t comply. Saving Jack is right, and without hesitation she pursues Santa’s rescue. She’s pretty smart about it, too.

Aha! She’s a Seven. Men Sixes are troopers. For women it’s the Sevens. They’re methodical and relentless, while still willing to chase risk and adventure.

Also, something about being stuffed with leaves feels so Seven. What other number would be so practical and sensual at the same time?

JACK SKELLINGTON, EIGHT

Pure energy. He’s exhausting! Restless, he loves new ideas and new stimulus. When he finds the holiday doors and goes to Christmas Town he becomes obsessed with enacting his plan.

And he’s a little dense about what the holiday means. It’s all observed through his Halloween lens. He’s willing to learn and try new things, but he’s also entrenched in his own experiences. It takes the whole movie to break him out of his mindset. Which number powers forward, and reassesses afterward?

Completely lanky, his physique is probably not an indicator of his Enneagram number. He’s a skeleton. His design dictates his look. He’s very robust and active, though. That’s a true clue about him. His physical expressiveness is extreme.

I want to say a Seven because of his curiosity, but we must consider a Body Type, too. He seems too cavalier about the financial details involved in hosting Halloween, so I’ll rule out a One. I’ll also say he’s not a Nine, who would appreciate the 364 days that aren’t Halloween. Changing the holiday is too much conflict.

An Eight? His gusto for playing Santa could go either Seven or Eight. Also his scientific exploration of Christmas, his formulas and experiments, could indicate either number. The same for that confident bullheaded quality. 

It’s his confrontation with Oogie Boogie that makes him an Eight. He goes right in, relying on physicality and bossiness to defeat the villain. A Seven would’ve created a plan.

Desert Lullaby

12″ x 12″ on prepared board, based on an original commissioned painting by Jahn Breeze.

A period Western, Fort Defiance is a screenplay that no longer exists.

Written in the 90s, it was shopped to actors’ agents and production companies, generated interest, and then failed to move forward. Over the years I’ve tinkered with it, trying to bring new life into a project that came oh-so-close.

Here’s what I want to say about my personal white elephant: She was a good piece of work. Since creating Fort Defiance I’ve become a better writer, and I have the skills to make this a better script . . . but it’s not possible. Any project is of a time and place. Who I was, how I thought, what the world and society considered taboo, can’t be revisited. Let the project go. This is my farewell to a lifelong story.

Recording this song reiterated that lesson. On my album Heart of Iron I had an experienced instrumentalist and recording partner. All I had to do was sing. This time, although I’ve been blessed once again with an excellent sound engineer, I had to wear every musical hat and my expertise is paltry. I wish I could present a smoother version of Desert Lullaby, but the most important thing is to get it out now, while it’s of the moment. I will get better, and the pressure of publication is part of that improvement process.

Listen to Desert Lullaby at bandcamp.

BUBBLESTAND

Another classic Spongebob episode! I’ll probably write this exact line before every Enneagram review. My childlike delight in this rewatch is slightly embarrassing.

ONE

Again, the underwater world and the pineapple neighborhood are established. Spongebob steps forth from his door and enjoys the peaceful environment of the day.

TWO

Boom. Cut to Spongebob hammering on a construction project in his front yard. The timing is perfectly comedic. It’s also Trouble.

THREE

Squidward leans out his window and complains. How is this the Three? Well, first, this is the thing that happens next after the Two. Not a great reason! Also, this Squid behavior is in almost every episode that includes him. Again, why? Stay tuned . . .

FOUR

Squid practices his clarinet and Spongebob finishes his construction. It’s a Bubblestand. Twenty-five cents a blow. Patrick pops up, borrows a quarter from Spongebob, and gives it a go.

He can’t blow, though. And he really, really tries! Big physical humor here. When he finally tires, Spongebob displays a “lessons” sign. Patrick borrows the quarter again. Oh, man, it really is funny. The timing!

SWITCH

Teaching the “Technique” is the lesson. In the Four, bubble blowing was a known thing to us poor normal rubes. After the Switch, we are amazed.

FIVE

With the Technique, Spongebob blows a set of ducks that quack when they pop. A boat bubble sounds its horn. An elephant, working its way into Squid’s window, erupts with a trumpet. Patrick is so delighted with it all.

But here comes Squid. He eventually plops down a quarter to show them how it’s done. All he can blow is a misshapen little bubble that makes a fart noise when it pops. Meanwhile, as he tries again and again, Spongebob and Patrick encourage him to use the Technique, demonstrating it. Eventually Squid does, remembering it perfectly (which is so wonderful), and his bubble is immense.

SIX

Squid brags about his success and completely denies that Spongebob’s Technique helped.

Here’s why I think the Three is the Three: Squid at the mirror points is a bad neighbor. He starts out unfriendly and alone, and after all the antics of the story he ends up unchanged. I see his behavior as a set of brackets. Everything contained, the absolute wonder of the bubble-blowing, won’t impact him. He won’t let it.

It’s not my favorite Three/Six, and I had to squiggle to line it up, but I’ll count it as legitimate.

SEVEN

He chooses to ignore and/or lie about the Technique, leaves his neighbors in the yard, and returns to his clarinet. Saying, “I rock,” he takes the credit for his bubble.

EIGHT

The overly large bubble returns, descending with ominous music and a heavy shadow. It envelops Squid’s house and lifts it up. With a giant fart noise, the bubble (offscreen) bursts. Spongebob and Patrick run away.

Okay, this is interesting: How many times will an episode’s Eight be Squidward’s comeuppance? And we love it every single time.

NINE

The Easter Island head settles into its spot, crooked and askew. A sad clarinet sound is heard.

ICHABOD CRANE, ONE

The iconic Halloween figure. You’ve got autumn leaves and a pumpkin, fall harvest dances and returning to school. Washington Irving’s short story and the Disney animated production are watchable and necessary year after year. (Also, need I say it: Bing.)

So, what is this skinny, homely, frightened man? His small lankiness immediately suggests a One, but his personality doesn’t really mesh with that. Ones are much more likely to conquer the world than to cringe from it.

But wait. Ichabod’s main motivation is money. He courts Katrina because her family’s rich. He tutors children to get a free dinner. He even, in the epilogue, is rumored to live married and well-off in another town. Now, that’s One-ish.

But he’s such a klutz. That’s not One-ish. The storytellers want him to be awkward on his horse so he can contrast with the Headless Horseman bearing down on him. I see no reason, though, to have him bumble around the dance. He is depicted as clumsy.

He’s bookish and uncoordinated. What a horrible stereotype to perpetuate! Interestingly, in the written story, his moral character — mean, small, cheap — is stressed. He’s almost cold in regards to Katrina. Disney has taken all this and physicalized it in, I would say with hindsight, an unfortunate choice. Eh, it’s a twenty minute short. Show, not tell.

I’m going with One. I think Disney has exaggerated Ichabod beyond the bounds of the number, but I’ll stick with it.