A landmark in familiar territory: 'Dora the Explorer' turns 10 on Nickelodeon

My exposure to Dora Marquez over the past decade has been blessedly incidental. She's the little Latina girl with a backpack and a monkey friend, right? She goes on aventuras fant?sticas and throws in a few Spanish words here and there but nothing that would jeopardize fair trade or infuriate the English-only crowd. What I do know is that she sells a few billion dollars' worth of toys, books, DVDs and clothing every year, and she's on TV all over the world. The back-to-school industry alone owes her big-time. Macy's made her into its first Thanksgiving parade balloon of a minority cartoon imp.

And all I need to know about parenting toddlers is that if you put on "Dora the Explorer" in the family room -- surely among the loudest shows to ever air on television -- you are able to have a coherent conversation (or some other mature activity) with another adult for exactly 22 minutes, maybe longer, depending on what's on after Dora. "Hurry," the parent will pant. "We don't have much time."

The only problem is that now I can't concentrate. What the heck's going on in there?

Dora: CAN YOU HELP US FIND THE BLUE ONE?

Child [clutching blanky, watching and screaming]: IT'S RIGHT THERE!! AQUI! NO, NO -- ALLI!! AZUL ALLIIIIEEEE!!!)

Dora: UH, OH -- IT'S SWIPER!

Child: SWIPER! NO SWIPING!!

Twenty-two minutes sail by in a flash of noise and song.

* * *

"Dora the Explorer" has been on Nickelodeon for 10 years this month, which the network is celebrating in prime time Sunday evening with the hour-long "Dora's Big Birthday Adventure." That's followed by a 12-minute tribute documentary in which toddlers, child psychology experts and bubble-eyed celebrities (Shakira, Salma Hayek, Elisabeth Hasselbeck) pay fitting homage.

Unlike so much preschool programming, "Dora" doesn't reward the sofa stoners who might wish to give it a whirl. Its surreality provides no contact high; it is a weird show that is never too weird. To wit: "Gracias, unicorn!" Dora tells a unicorn who flies her and her monkey companion, Boots, over the rainbow.

"De nada," says the unicorn.

The "Dora" backgrounds look like recycled backdrops from Smurfworld. Dora and Boots blink silently and wait for your heartfelt response to their obvious questions. This is bliss for 3-year-olds. Her show is earnest through and through -- to the point of sterility. Children love it unconditionally, and adults discover there are better and worse shows to endure. Dora is a triumph of carefully calibrated mediocrity with a flavorful dash of non-threatening diversity.

The documentary shows us the level of vetting the stories go through, with input from toddlers in a test lab; this ensures that Dora's relentless optimism will never flag, nor will anything ever be too scary.

In "Dora's Big Birthday Adventure," our heroine wants to leave the storybook dimension she's been gallivanting around in and return to her tropical suburb, where her parents, abuela and anthropomorphic friends (a giant chicken, a talking locomotive) wait to celebrate her birthday with a cake and pi?ata. But Dora realizes her wishing crystal is broken.

The small Wizzle people tell Dora and Boots to follow the road over a lake and through a forest and over a rainbow, to ask the Wishing Wizzle to help send her home. Dora will of course rely on her resourceful backpack and map, but mostly she relies on you, the viewer.

But watch out for La Bruja, the wicked Eva Longoria-esque witch on a broomstick, who has flying monkeys and -- oh, cripes, it's "The Wizard of Oz"! This goes weirdly unattributed, even when Dora and Boots cross a field of malevolent flowers and meet a scarecrow. (Someone explain fair-use law to poor Uncle Hank. Has Dora always been so blatantly, um, derivative?)

Anyhow, spoiler alert: She did it! She and Boots got home in time for her birthday party! No, no -- WE did it. We all helped. This is Dora's core value: cooperation among friends.

Only Ayn Rand would have a problem with that, but certainly there is more to discuss regarding Dora the Explorer's debatable contributions to both education and capitalism. Is she a token minority? Is she just here to sell backpacks? Is her influence more broadly seen in children's programming now? Yes, and sure -- to all of that.

But the documentary is too short, promotional and airy to really go there. To its credit, it does briefly feature some of the mocking Dora has endured in popular satire, including "Saturday Night Live's" spot-on "TV Funhouse" Dora-style parody: "FLAP YOUR WINGS AND YELL! DON'T QUESTION IT! JUST DO IT!"

Here's the thing about Dora. She is still and forever 7 (pay no attention to that tween makeover she got last year), but the children grow up. Asking my mom friends about the Dora days produced a sentimental wistfulness and remorse about the dark Miley Cyrus years that came after. And now, 10 years on, all communication must happen with their children through text messages. Once it was gone, they found they missed Dora's joyful noise.

Dora's Big Birthday Adventure

(one hour, followed by a 12-minute documentary) airs at 8 p.m. Sunday on Nickelodeon.