Suddenly Last Summer

Director Michelle Myers pays a wonderful homage to Tennessee Williams with her powerful production of his one-act Suddenly Last Summer. The play focuses on the human collateral damage left behind in the wake of an untimely death. Mrs. Venable (Megan Rosenberg), the mother of the departed, is attempting to have her niece Catharine Holly (Kelly Campbell) lobotomized for sullying her son’s reputation.  She invites not only Catharine, but a doctor from Lion’s View hospital, Dr. Cukrowicz (The Kosmo’s own Joseph Schafer), a surgeon who specializes in radical prefrontal disfigurement to consider the operation.

Doctor Cukrowicz has a sense of character that builds as the play progresses. Raw nerves and hints of condescension chip his helpful demeanor away. His omnipotent smile starts as good bedside manner but becomes subtly disquieting as he discusses his work with Mrs. Venable. Mrs. Venable fields the first of the play’s two long monologues, talking at length about her son and their relationship, her character stemming more from her relationship with the deceased than from herself. Catharine is eventually brought on stage by her chaperone, Sister Felicity (Marianne Stine). Catharine’s mental instability is shown not only through her angry outbursts and rebellious nature, but also in the way she holds herself and moves across the stage, eyes darting between things unseen to the audience.

The most powerful moments in Suddenly come from the doctor’s interview of Catharine. The interplay between the actors is spectacular and enthralling. Catharine takes full control of the play’s second long monologue, and is driven by subtly shifts in lighting and the gradually building cacophonic noise of jungle birds and hand-made percussion instruments. At times of extreme emotion she walks to the stage’s edge and teeters dangerously, swaying with the sound of her own voice as she talks about Sebastian’s brutal death and posthumous dismemberment.

Francisco Pradilla, by Juan R. Medina

The play does a wonderful job of contrasting two subjective views of reality. The short and sparse arguments between Mrs. Venable and Catharine contrast well against their longer speeches. Both women’s want to reject the other’s stories of Sebastian shows a deep-seated inability to reconcile personal truths with idealization.

Tragedy: A Tragedy

Tragedy takes a serious and absurdly humorous look at our media-centric culture. Helped along by a fantastic job by the stage crew and John Reeves’ love of hanging things from the ceiling, the play miraculously blends some great technical aspects with Will Eno’s precisely bizarre style. I was impressed enough when they Camera Crew of the play (Including Wales Christian, Robert Cooper and Nolan Racich) were able to turn on the televisions over the central circular desk. It was truly astonishing when they started broadcasting live video feeds of the physically separated actors.

Eno’s work, superbly directed by Emilia LaPenta, is absurd even in its start, as a news crew begins the coverage of a global disaster: night. The news anchor, Frank in the Studio (Vincent Kusiak) has the difficult job of calling upon the various reporters out to cover various aspects of this new tragedy. At first the play delivers a lighthearted combination of professional journalism and the absolute absurd. As the night carries on, the thin veneer of professionalism breaks down around the characters. John in the Field (Ben Richards) does an amazing job of bringing an enduring humanity slowly into his role as reporter, desperately clinging to whatever he can in the growing dark, which at a few points is The Witness (Martin Goffeney). The reports on the Governor from Michael, Legal Advisor (Stefano Cagnato) are stunningly delivered and a cunning motif.

In a beautiful directorial move the newscasters begin the play by looking into their respective cameras, yet as the night grows longer and their professionalism begins to slip, they start to face each other. Although the actors are physically separated on the stage and mentally separated by their various locales, their more human moments ignore those gaps as they reach out to find one another in the darkness. At one point Constance at the Home (Madlen Meyer) actually walks away from her eternal vigil on a family’s front lawn to go and comfort an increasingly distraught and sympathetic Frank in the Studio.

As the constant barrage of media finally dies away, each crewmember is able to find their own little piece of humanity, still terrified and alone in the dark. In the end when all the cameras are left unattended and each reporter has given up, The Witness takes up the mantel of storyteller and motivational speaker for the whole team. The Witnesses’ story transforms the play from an abstract commentary on human connection into a demonstration of its importance.

Overall both plays succeed in teasing out subjective truth from a maelstrom of information, be it through the rambling stories of two emotionally disconnected women or the constant barrage of empty media. Together, the two student-directed plays provide a great two hour escape and a powerful look at staged humanity.

Bimbo's Modest Storefront

Bimbo’s Pizza is downtown at 338 East Michigan.  If you’ve ever walked past Olde Peninsula, you’ll see that Kalamazoo has plenty of restaurants the further east you go, including Coney Island, Ouzos’, and Monaco Bay.  Bimbo’s menu sports very little other than pizza; under “sandwiches” are listings like “ham” and “turkey,” so I imagine that the non-pizza foodstuffs aren’t their strong suit.  Despite that, the pizza, if a little pricey, is excellent.  The soft, thin crust and fresh toppings are good, but don’t really compare to the sauce, which is clearly homemade and deserving of some kind of reward (if only the Kosmo gave out awards…).  The aesthetic of the restaurant’s interior is great too.  There are some old fashioned high-booths with large tables in the middle, always crowded on Friday and Saturday nights.  Bimbo’s also boasts their superiority in a storefront preparation area, where employees toss dough back and forth and make their sauce by the gallon.  The whole establishment is understated.  My only complaints are that Bimbo’s is cash-only (there’s an ATM inside) and that they don’t deliver.

Bilbo’s, unlike its downtown counterpart, is a little bit out of the way at 3307 Stadium Drive.  While this may deter the unadventurous college student, worry not, Bilbo’s will deliver your pizza to you at no charge (other than the expectation of a tip for the driver).  Also unlike Bimbo’s, Bilbo’s doesn’t pretend to be anything but a pizza joint: if there’s something other than pizza on their menu, they supplement it with pizza (pizza sandwiches, stuffed pizza, etc.).  Bilbo’s sports some very thick crust, fluffy and filled with air, rather than the thin, concise crust at Bimbo’s.  Here, you can choose between white and whole wheat crust; I chose wheat because I’ve never had such an option before; truly delicious!  Bilbo’s is also a little pricier than some of the mainstream joints and you get a little less (quantity, not quality) than you do for a comparable Bimbo’s price.  Despite that, there’s certainly a reason why Bilbo’s had the money to expand to a second location at 6202 South Westnedge in Portage.

Me, I’m a thin crust guy, and I’d rather walk to get my pizza than have it delivered to me.  So for my buck I’d choose Bimbo’s, but the whole wheat crust and free delivery charge from Bilbo’s makes it a difficult decision.  In the end I feel good supporting either establishment, since both are locally owned and operated.  It all boils down to how you’re feeling the next time you’ve got some extra cash and a rumbling stomach.

Check out Kalamazoo Comparisons, Part 2: Downtown Drink Deals next week.

George Frederick Watts's Orpheus and Eurydice

The humor comes in two forms; the new spin on the classic Greek chorus and the unfettered interpretation of the Lord of the Underworld. The energetic Chorus of Stones is a permanent fixture in the underworld and serves as translator while helping transition the less-than-living to their new home. The three stones, identified as Loud Stone (Katy Copeland), Little Stone (Shannon Hill) and Big Stone (Ben Maters), are all dressed head-to-toe in grubby, soot-stained mining gear, which helps to remind us of the setting on the bare stage, including the Stones’ headlamps, which are perfectly suited to their use in the lighting design. The chorus pulls the show together, injecting the play with a powerful energetic feel and acts as a distorted emotional mirror: cheering at the failure and misery of the protagonists and jeering their successes.

The most thrilling performance of the play comes from Zack Apman, who portrays the Nasty Interesting Man and the Lord of the Underworld. Between his outrageous dance moves, perfectly disturbing evil cackle and daring journey on a tricycle, he brings much needed character to the play. He provides an unlikely mix of power-hungry, devastatingly lonely and slightly malicious, the synergy of which becomes ridiculously hilarious.  Foreshadowed in the opening, however, it is the interplay between the protagonists, and not The Lord of the Underworld, that causes their truly tragic downfall.  Orpheus (Michael Lopetrone), ever the musician in his gilded burnt-amber headphones, thinks of nothing but music while Eurydice (Rachel Napoleon) is fixated on him and disheartened that the artist does not reciprocate her devotion. The cute and pantomime-filled romance between Orpheus and Eurydice culminates in their short-lived marriage. The Nasty Interesting Man lures Eurydice away from her wedding party and towards her wake. After Eurydice’s untimely death, the real action of the play starts.

The Chorus of Stones, Eurydice, her loving, supportive and dead father (Joel Hoard), and a spectacular lighting array populate the underworld half of the stage. In contrast, the other half is barren and shows the continued suffering of a heart-broken Orpheus. The two halves of the stage alternate, switching the action of the play from the underworld to Orpheus. The underworld scene depicts a touching reunion between father and daughter and a growing familial bond; the other scene shows Orpheus slowly losing touch with reality. Michael’s portrayal of Orpheus’ growing detachment and the intense pain of his loss comes across amazingly as he shouts at the stage floor, begging his dead wife to hear his cries of undying love. As this pathos-inducing display is playing out, the father and daughter are sharing memories of life and family, displaying sweet sentimentality and a compellingly-performed father-daughter connection.

The relationships that have built up over the play’s course are used heart-wrenchingly well to heap tragedy upon tragedy at the end of the play. Overall, the acting is compelling, the twist on the old myth breathes new life and depth into the story and the lighting and sound design is more than effective, adding an element of spectacle to an otherwise bare stage.

The show continues to play in WMU’s York Arena Theater; February 4^th-6^th at 8 p.m. with a Sunday matinee on the 7^th at 2 p.m. Tickets are $20, $15 for senior citizens and only $5 for all students.

My first experience with Oscar was in 2005. Being an overly overt fan of Finding Neverland, I would slam front runner Million Dollar Baby amongst friends and family. Of course after seeing Million Dollar Baby, I admit my narrow mindedness as it is a far superior film.

This morning, The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences released the nominations for the 82nd Annual Academy Awards. I will try to pilot the major categories as best as I can to give an idea of what to expect on March 7th, 2010.

Best Picture

It is hard to gauge where voters will steer this ship. In an unexpected move, the Academy moved the nominee number to 10 this year. This pegs for a wide variety of material and target audience. Avatar and Inglorious Basterds should get pre-hype as they have captured other organization awards. Avatar took home the Golden Globe for Best Motion Picture Drama while Basterds received the Outstanding Performance by a Cast in a Motion Picture award from the Screen Actors Guild. In order to round out the top five, I would bet on The Hurt Locker, Up in the Air, and The Blind Side being favorites.

On to who will win. As Hollywood loves money, Avatar would be the best pick. But as history shows, Hollywood doesn’t always love the hype (a la Brokeback Mountain). Avatar isn’t a great movie (it isn’t really even good) therefore I believe the field is open. A quirky comedy like Up in the Air could finally bring home an Oscar for Jason Reitman (missed on Juno and snubbed on Thank You For Smoking). The Hurt Lockercould potentially be this years Crash, an indie drama about bomb technicians in Iraq. The Blind Side has be known to be a motivating, tear jerking drama that showed the acting chops of notoriously bad Sandra Bullock. Even the animated (lovely) favorite from Pixar, Up, could potentially garner enough voters.

Who will win: I believe Hollywood rewards Avatar as it is the most popular choice

Who should win: Up in the Air or Inglorious Basterds were phenom films of 2009.

Best Actor in a Leading Role

Subcategories are much easier to predict as the field is generally narrowed to four or five. Jeremy Renner was wonderful to watch in The Hurt Locker, a gung-ho American bomb technician in Iraq (although I couldn’t help draw comparisons to his military portrayal in 28 Weeks Later). Morgan Freeman was bland in Ivictus and for further explanation, my review of the movie can be found on this blog. I haven’t seen A Single Man (Colin Firth) and George Clooney (Up in the Air) is always the Oscar darling (received nominations in 2006 and 2007). With the Golden Globes and Screen Actors Guild Awards (SAG) as guidance, I believe it is safe to put money on Jeff Bridges in Crazy Heart. Yes, I believe The Dude, Bridges character in The Big Lebowski, will win come March 7th.

Who Will Win: Jeff Bridges

Who Should Win: George Clooney. I haven’t seen Crazy Heart but Clooney was enjoyable in Up in the Air.

Best Actress in a Leading Role

It is a rarity to find an award that Meryl Streep is nominated for and not expected to win. Sandra Bullock’s sweep of the Golden Globe and SAG categories should propel her to Oscar stardom. I don’t believe Carey Mulligan will capture enough voters for her An Education performance and while Gabourey Sidibe (Precious) might be too fresh (first motion picture role) for the award. While Helen Mirren was rewarded for her role in The Queen, Bullock will prevail.

Who Will Win: Unfortunately, Keanu’s sidekick (Speed) will win this year.

Who Should Win: Probably Sandra Bullock. I haven’t seen The Blind Side and I will refrain from knocking it too hard, but it’s Sandra Bullock.

Best Actor in a Supporting Role

The Lovely Bones failed to capture the hype it had a year ago. Peter Jackson’s followup to King Kong won’t bring him the record love LOTR: Return of the King did. I predict then that Stanley Tucci (The Lovely Bones) will rest at the bottom with Woody Harrelson (The Messenger) and Christopher Plummer (The Last Station). While Matt Damon was inspiring in Invictus, it’s still Invictus. All signals point to Christoph Waltz in Inglorious Basterds. Speaking four languages while taking on the controversial role of a rewarded Nazi SS was magnificent.

Who Will Win: Christoph Waltz

Who Should Win: No one other than Christoph Waltz

Best Actress in a Supporting Role

This category is a bit more muddled than Best Actress. The leading ladies of Up in the Air (Vera Farmiga and Anna Kendrick) will probably cancel each other out. Maggie Gyllenhaal’s nod was greeted as a surprise and that leaves Penelope Cruz (Nine) and Mo’nique (Precious) as the frontrunners. The Academy does like musicals which could propel Ms. Cruz above Mo’nique but, I expect that Mo’nique ultimately wins as she took home both Golden Globe and SAG awards.

Who Will Win: Mo’nique

Who Should Win: After staring in Phat Girlz and Flavor of Love Girls: Charm School, this is an unexpected turnaround.

Best Animated Feature Film

I enjoyed Fantastic Mr. Fox and the return to 2D animation by Disney was welcomed with The Princess and the Frog, an Up upset would be shocking.

Who Will Win: Up

Who Should Win: Up…again

Best Original Screenplay

This category should be decided between The Hurt Locker (Mark Boal) and Inglorious Basterds (Quentin Tarantino). Up deserves the recognition and any Coen Bros. work (A Serious Man) is sure to not disappoint. Rounding out the category is Alessandro Camon and Oren Moverman for The Messenger. All in all, this one could go anywhere.

Who Will Win: I will go out on a limb and say Up. Moving and popular, this touched all ages.

Who Should Win: I enjoyed Hurt Locker but much of the movie was placed on acting and I believe the vulgarity of Inglorious Basterds might drive a few voters away.

Best Adapted Screenplay

Jason Reitman and Sheldon Turner will almost surely win this category for their work in Up in the Air. Although An Education and Precious could prove to be dark horses, I suspect District 9 and In the Loop to provide little competion

Who Will Win: Up in the Air

Who Should WIn: Up in the Air

Kathryn Bigelow and James Cameron

Best Director

Interestingly enough James Cameron (Avatar) and Kathryn Bigelow (The Hurt Locker) were former lovebirds. I believe Jason Reitman (Up in the Air) will be rewarded for screenplay instead of directing and Tarantino (Basterds) and Lee Daniels (Precious) should be on the outside looking in.

Who Will Win: James Cameron if voters want to see another “I’m the king of the world” proclamation (see Cameron’s Oscar acceptance speech for Titanic) or Bigelow if voters want to pick someone deserving of the award.

Who Should Win: Kathryn Bigelow

Odds and Ends

Since I have hit all of the major categories, I will offer some minor predictions for the smaller awards. I suspect Avatar to sweep Best Film Editing, Best Cinematography, and Best Visual Effects. Sound mixing will likely be between Avatar and The Hurt Locker. Up and Avatar will compete for Best Original Score and I suspect Best Sound Mixing will be another dog fight between The Hurt Locker and Avatar.

Sitting in the office of a professor whose opinion I highly value, I popped the question: “So, what do you think of Teach for America?”  “I love it,” he responded, referencing a former student of his who completed the program while gaining an expensive accreditation from a local university, made affordable by TFA. “It’s really fucking hard though,” he added.  “No easy stuff.”

Upon closer examination, it is difficult to pinpoint what is “so fucking hard” about TFA, when, in fact, what you do is quite simple: you teach, and nobody who teaches does so because it is easy.  As a four-year Woodward School for Technology and Research veteran, having co-run the program in 2007-2008, and currently involved in nuturing personal long-term relationships with specific students and their families, I can vouch that the rewards for such time-alotment are often retrospective, best reflected upon after a good meal and a nap.  Hearsay, however, can be gold when it comes to “life transition programs” such as TFA, and one thing that I hear is that corps members quit, or become discouraged because they feel impotent to fight the greater forces at work in their respective classrooms.

flickr.com image courtesy of hellosputnik

The K student liaison to TFA came into my Shakespeare class Fall Quarter to plug the upcoming application deadline.  She recounted a story of two public high schools in the same Chicago school district.  One was well funded and in a wealthy area, and a majority of the students performed well on national tests, and the expected number went on to higher education.  The other high school was more urban, poorly funded, and [I believe] serviced a predominantly ‘minority’ community. An astoundingly low percentage of the students there åperformed well on national tests, and very few went on to higher education, let alone graduated or passed an equivalency exam.  And this was why we were supposed to join Teach for America.  I sat in the back of the room and screamed “DOESN’T ANYBODY REALIZE THAT THERE ARE LARGER AND SYSTEMIC ISSUES AT PLAY HERE?  THEY’RE IN THE SAME FUCKING SCHOOL DISTRICT.  THERE SHOULDN’T BE A SINGLE FUCKING DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE TWO SCHOOLS AND THEIR STAFF!”

I brought up my “plugging the cracks in the dam” theory with my trusted professor.  He nodded and said “Oh, yes.  I see now.  Yes.” and then he nodded again.

In May 2009, U.S. Secretary of Education Secretary Arne Duncan called Detroit “ground zero” for education, though he added that he felt “‘a sense of real hope … [that] people here understand’ the importance of education and the need for reform.” That following December, Detroit Public Schools learned that their students set the nation record for inferiority on the National Assessment for Educational Progress.  69% of the fourth graders and 77% of the eighth graders participating in the hour long exam scored “below basic” on math.  The Freep mused,

“The results are perhaps the most damning indictment to date of a district already pummeled by reports of poor graduation rates, labor disputes, financial collapse, and even gunfire in the hallways.”

The buck stopped at the school district administration, and then Lansing-appointed “emergency financial manager” Robert Bibb took the Washington and deposited it into the district’s waning coffers.  “Just one of three of DPS fourth-graders, the test suggests, can correctly subtract 75 from 301, given a choice of three answers,” the Freep observed.

In the print edition of the Free Press I picked up that evening, one column opined that this was the district’s fault, while one blamed the teachers.  Another vaguely asserted a connection between parental involvement and educational success, and all parties agreed that this, above all else, was not the student’s fault.  There was even a nice graphic to illustrate how two-thirds of Detroit’s publicly-educated fourth- and eighth-graders were stumped by 301-75 = ___.  (My iPhone calculator says ‘226′).

And I’m thinking: this isn’t one person’s fault.  This isn’t just bureaucratic vacuousness, or teacher inanity or family fatuousness or a student’s lack of respect for him or herself: this is everyone’s fault.  Every person who has ever meaningfully encountered these kids is to blame for this pathetic academic showing–including the students themselves (though we are all so much a product of our environments).

In an age where Washington plans to spend $663.7 billion on the DOD (not including $42.7 billion allotted to the Department of Homeland Security) compared to $46.7 billion on education–and $164 billion to cover the interest on our national debt–Teach for America employs around 7,300 college grads to help fill and ameliorate the nation’s classrooms, none of which are located at the academic “ground zero” of Detroit.

The final application deadline for 2010 is February 19.

The views expressed herein are not necessarily those of The Kosmopolitan Online.  They reflect the personal opinions of the author.

But now it’s fucked.

In an impossible victory, Scott Brown (R) defeated Martha Coakley (D) approximately 53 to 47 percent to take the late senator’s seat in Massachusetts.  The usually overwhelmingly democratic Massachusetts shocked the polity by electing to the senate the 41st member of the GOP, which keeps alive the Republican filibuster for the Senate health care bill.  President Obama’s first year in office is shot (unless he’s out of the country), and Democrats can wave goodbye any hopes of an expeditious piece of legislation.

Martha, Martha, Martha

I would understand if Martha Coakley had been in some kind of drug scandal and lost the election; I would understand if she was an ineffective campaigner.  No, I think Martha Coakley is another name for President Barack Obama and His Administration…Most democrats seem to have lost a little faith in their “change is coming” mantra, with frustration permeating throughout the House and Senate at the longevity of this convoluted health care bill.  Granted, the death of the champion probably didn’t help, but someone famous once said that things will one day be judged by the content of their character instead of outward appearances.

Scott Brown’s campaign platform makes the election even more painful for democrats to swallow: he actively opposes the health care legislation in the House and Senate.

It doesn’t help that Obama had a bad year.  What makes things worse is that he knows and admits that the year was bad, calling the Christmas Day attack of the Northwest airliner “a systematic failure” on the part of the administration.  The economy’s positive response to the senatorial election can almost entirely be attributed to increased faith in drug companies which would otherwise have been negatively impacted by the President’s health care package.  That’s sickening.

I think it’s funny that Scott Brown once posed nude for Cosmopolitan – it means we’re breaking down this crusty, white male paradigm of “what a politician should be” (iniquitous, venal, etc.).  I just wish Scott Brown was a (D).  Sigh…

Rustica

Like other European-flavor Kalamazoo dining, Rustica is a small space with tightly packed tables.  I should have made a reservation; there was only one table available when I arrived.  The diners were mostly elderly townies who frequented restaurant openings as though they were art exhibitions.  Since Rustica had only been open for a month, I was surprised to hear my host/waiter ask me if I had dined there before.  I was seated next to the dessert station, separate from the kitchen, which turned out to be a delightful locale.  The dessert chefs were clearly aware of their proximity with the customers: they wore their chef duds proudly and only dabbled with pleasant smelling cookeries.

Rustica offered an interesting array of appetizers.  The cauliflower gratin and Rustica Salad were certainly the least impressive parts of the meal, but this was probably because of a poor wine choice on my part.  The wine itself was delicious, Santa Rita Cabernet Sauvignon from Chile, but it overpowered the meatless starters.  Also interesting was the use of the wine aerator, something which I’ve used before but never seen used in the official capacity at a restaurant.  I was poured my taste of wine after it was aerated.

Bread from Roland’s Bakery was served between firsts and the main course, a plate of Potato Gnocchi served with buttered squash in a light butter sauce.  I’ve never eaten sautéed potato pasta, only boiled, and the difference was startling.  The main was delicious and complemented well even with the medium red wine.

The chef of Rustica is Adam Watts, who has worked at the absolutely phenomenal Tapawingo, a four-star restaurant in Ellsworth, Michigan.  Although certain dietary restrictions disallow me from reviewing the restaurant in full, my partner tells me that their experience was of equal quality.  The wine list is as extensive as one would expect for a restaurant which boasts “European cuisine,” and the beer list pays homage to some of the better beers of the world (and Michigan) at the sacrifice of the more conglomerated breweries of Wisconsin.  (That is not to say that Wisconsin does not also have some excellent microbreweries.)  The beer list also boasts some charming quotations which remind one not to take beer quite as seriously as wine, although some would chastise me for saying so.

The mains of Rustica are mainly seafood-oriented, but there is plenty on the menu which accommodates other tastes.  Generous portions and prices to boot make Rustica the premier European dining in downtown, and perhaps greater area, Kalamazoo.

Rustica is located at 236 Kalamazoo Mall in downtown Kalamazoo, Michigan.

The Lovely Bones, based on the book by Alice Sebold, tells the story of fifteen year old Suzie Salmon, her death and what comes after. While in the in-between Suzie watches as her family struggles to deal with their loss and as her murderer continues to prowl the neighborhood unnoticed.

I found myself with mixed feelings as I watched the movie. On the one hand Jackson managed to bring out truly emotional performances from his actors, in fact I defy anyone to watch this movie without at least some tear-blurred vision, but on the other the story felt choppy and the computer generated in-between would sometimes spill over from the surreal to the annoying and confusing.

Rachel Weiss and especially Mark Wahlberg deliver powerful performances as Suzie’s distraught parents and the tensions between the two caused by their different coping techniques adds to the sense of suffering. Susan Sarandon as the chain smoking, heavy drinking grandmother brings a sense humorous relief to the film when she arrives to help out (which for her consists of sweeping dirt under the rugs, burning dinner and overflowing the washing machine) that keeps the movie from becoming too overwhelming and heavy in the middle. And let us not forget Saoirse Ronan as Suzie. Mark this as another tally on Ronan’s short but impressive list of strong roles. The girl can seriously deliver be it giddy innocence or world weary sadness.

The Lovely Bones isn’t just about the grieving Salmon family. While in my opinion Jackson fails when it comes to the weaving together of the three stories he is ultimately telling, his choices in stylistically differentiating the three are intriguing. Though I found the world of the in-between to be a little too dazzling, the stark, uncomfortably close style Jackson utilizes for the scenes following Suzie’s neighbor and murderer Mr. Harvey—played by Stanley Tucci who plays creepy politeness with a delicacy that induces what Suzie would refer to as the “skeevies”—really serves to heighten the tension.

For myself, as a young woman, I found one particular moment to be frightening and too true. When Mr. Harvey has lured Suzie to the hang-out he’s supposedly created for the neighborhood kids she rightly begins to feel suspicious and uneasy. It is at this point that Harvey, quite agitatedly, informs Suzie that one of the rules of the club house is that you have to be polite. Let me just say that the desire instilled into women (and to some extent men) to “be polite” has probably done more harm than good. Watch just about any show or read any book or article about a survivor of some assault and I’ll bet you good money if she saw her attacker before it happened there was a gut feeling that got ignored for fear of “being rude.” And that was what really made me feel for Suzie.

Ultimately the good performances weren’t enough for me though. Where I was hoping to find a film I’d be moved to see again instead I found myself with only luke-warm feelings. While I hope a lot of people do see the film and really think about the things it brings up about who the dangerous people really are (and it’s usually not strangers) I won’t be saving this in my Netflix queue to watch over again.

Bokonon Stan.

Bokononsense.

“All of the true things I’m about to tell you are shameless lies.”

This may be Bokonon-sense, but when things like a 7.0 earthquake in Haiti happen, I have a tendency to be happy. Sure, that sounds like Schadenfreude, but think of it this way: if you’d have been there, you couldn’t do anything to help. There was a tragedy; there are always tragedies; “so it goes.”

Should we do what we can to help? Of course, but that’s not the point. The point of any exercise of human compassion is always selfish, but that’s not the point either. The point of any human tragedy is to reveal the importance of humanity in all of its capacity. Could I do absolutely nothing about Haiti? Sure, it’s no different than what I’m doing now; are there other things that I’m doing? Sure, but that’s not the point either. The point is that everyone likes to help, “likes and dislikes have nothing to do with it”, and everyone likes to be seen helping. Because I’m neither an NGO nor a world renowned philanthropist, I can’t do anything; this column is worthless; it’s an opinion piece; my opinion is that there are a lot of great successes in the world; PALS is a success; Recyclemania is a success.

We can’t predict tragedy; we can’t really mitigate it; we can’t heal its wounds; we can’t make the world better by wishing it so; we can’t use five semi-colons in a row in two consecutive sets without realizing that “all a semi-colon proves is that you’ve been to college.” That’s really my point, friends and neighbors, whether we come from small towns in small counties (yours truly included) or big cities with big skylines, we’re all connected by the foma that education makes us more capable to handle tragedy or more capable to find meaning or success. Can we fix the earthquake in Haiti or the hurricane that will ravage the Caribbean every year or the next civil war that rips apart an already fragile region or whatever the next pool-pah happens to be? We can’t, I’m sorry, but we can’t. The imperative, saints and sinners, is that we recognize that every so often we enjoy a genuine moment and make a genuine difference.

What’s the point of any of this nonsense? The point is that, at any given moment, life can be relatively swell in these parts (relative to Pyongyang or Port-au-Prince) and we should enjoy it while it lasts (it won’t forever); “sometimes the pool-pah exceeds the ability of man’s power to comment”, but sometimes the only thing we can do is give a little time, a little money, or a little effort and try to move on. So it goes. Do what you can: “Live by the foma that make you brave and kind and healthy and happy.” It’s a busy universe out there kiddies; busy, busy, busy… … …

Short’s Brewing Company,

Bellaire, MI

I just wanted to thank you for your Soft Parade High Gravity Ale, as I sit here alone on this cold winter’s night succumbing to its aromas, wrapped in a fleece blanket holding myself tight.  I think: summer ale in the dark sacred confines of winter months?  Who am I to say when to what potions may quell the lonely demons inside?

It’s all Jim’s fault, really.  The question of the only beer to give a good wine a run for its money had come up in an earlier conversation that afternoon over steamy music, as I step into my car and wait the five minutes it will take for my defrost to make driving even a remotely safe possibility.

I peer through beautiful crystals of cracks and spangles resting comfortably amongst the fog, as I peel around the corner and up the hill to Tiffany’s.  Amongst the plethora of lovers, my decision is brief as I lunge for the sunset pink carton with redhead on front, slumbering peacefully in a silken hammock.  I am with that woman now, curled up underneath the April sun, music playing, book in hand.  We discuss butterflies, slip wafer crackers into each other’s mouths, pausing only to look at each other, and smile.

I love her, this woman on the package and the bottles of Soft Parade, the nameless restless beauty resting under the warm breath of the sun. What song can I sing to her?  What melody dare pierce her serenity buried so beautifully under her wavy assumptions of hair, the tips wrestling in the soft breeze that comes by, toying with the leafed pages of her book.  I wrap these tips around my finger.  She loves me though she pays me no mind as I bend down to kiss her burning like a small child dancing in a bed of leaves.

She glances over and says “Shoo!” blowing me away like a candle.

Who is this spirit?  Is she a friend of yours? Why does she now sleep? Is she weary?  Forever have I known her, but forever may she be nameless in my heart.  I love her, but to hoard her would be to withhold a most precious gift from under the tree of living love.

So please, free her to spread whimsy about the world, for her to fly about sprinkling the golden dust of sunshine upon the drudgery for the poor soul trudging through the deep snows to obligations and matters of personal interest.

Should you see my love, however, please give her this message from me, for when I uttered these words to her, she fled, not in tears, but upon the wings of a great swan headed South to Tucson.

farewell,

Thomas Gilchrist

Kalamazoo, MI

This film, like Star Wars: A New Hope and Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl before it, is pure franchise-starting gold mined from the long-forgotten stone of pulp literature. Where Holmes differs from its ilk is in its pacing; I have never seen a Hollywood blockbuster that feels like the middle part of a trilogy. There is no origin story, and no real conclusion. Holmes and Watson, as well as love interest/part-time villain Irene Adler all exist at the beginning of the film, and even though the mystery is solved, the game, as Sherlock himself would say, is still on as the credits roll.

The story works thanks to the kinetic and maverick style of director Guy Ritchie, who not only brings endearing grime to Holmes and 19th century London, but uses this film as an opportunity to salvage his career from the tailspin it’s been in since his crime-comedy masterpiece, Snatch. His camera is fluid, his characters charming, and his drive relentless. Sherlock Holmes belabors nothing (thank god) and finishes its two-plus hours running time feeling like a ten minute jog.

Props, then, to Robert Downey Jr. who has successfully kick-started his second film series playing the same character. This Holmes is essentially Tony Stark AKA Iron Man, who was himself only a pumped-up rehash of Harry Lockhart from Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang (still his best performance). Yet I’m still not tired of his antics, the man is most certainly unique and talented, even if he only plays variations on one theme.

The internet was aflame with people calling Downey Jr. out for his stylized and less-refined take on Holmes. Those people need to shut the fuck up. This is still Arthur Conan Doyle’s Holmes, just all the most renegade aspects of him: Holmes the drug addict, Holmes the manic-depressive, Holmes the bare knuckle boxing enthusiast, all of whom were present in The Hound of the Baskervilles but overshadowed by Holmes the gentleman.

The gentleman here is Jude Law’s Doc Watson, whose story is the real emotional heart of the film. The bickering back and forth between Law and Downey Jr. is the film’s trump card. Whenever the two are alone together high gear is engaged. Whenever a peripheral character is caught in their crossfire, chaos ensues. Wondrous chaos, if the peripheral character is his fiancée Mary Morstan.

Too bad his screen time is eaten up by Rachel McAddams’ Irene Adler, who feels more like a sketch than a well-drawn character, even if her chemistry with Downey Jr. approaches excellent when it’s not bogged down by obtuse dialog.

The weakest link is Mark Strong’s Lord Blackwood, a muscle bound pseudo-Satanist whose deception is about as opaque as stained glass. Though he’s afforded a few interesting moments, particularly his first set piece’s sleight-of-hand with a glass needle, he quickly becomes old hat and thankfully won’t be returning for the inevitable sequel.

Considering how blatantly Avatar deals with one species attacking and attempting to dominate another, saying that there are issues concerning how we understand racial inequality might seem odd. To understand what is being said here, let us first consider that science fiction as a genre has long been seen as particularly metaphoric in terms of understanding the self and other, typically with the self represented by humans and the “other” embodied in the form of the alien. Often this has specifically been equated to issues of race, in ways remaining highly problematic as the self is generally presented as being white with the alien(s) being understood to represent minorities. This is the problem within Avatar. The Na’vi, who are the ten foot tall, bipedal, feline-like natural inhabitants of the planet Pandora, upon which the movie takes place, are shown to be a wholly altruistic people who are unable to understand the true motives of the mining corporation attacking them and ultimately can only be lead effectively against this corporation by Jake Sully (Sam Worthington), the former marine mentioned above who is taking part in the avatar program, which mentally links humans to human-Na’vi hybrids in an attempt to create a deeper understanding and connection between the two peoples. Jake, who initially comes into contact with the Na’vi with absolutely no understanding of them, ultimately proves to be their savior, therefore showing, perhaps unintentionally, that some white, male, human makes a better Na’vi than a real Na’vi does.

As an isolated incident in Hollywood this might not be an issue but considering the tendency of this scenario to crop up again and again, it is fair to say this is an issue in the film. While the Na’vi are highly sympathetic but also shown to be powerful and wise, with James Cameron having directly stated that the Na’vi were intended to represent the better part of ourselves, this attempt to make them cheer-worthy leads to their becoming horribly two dimensional and flat, which is probably the greatest failing of the film.

While these issues might be arguable in terms of Avatar, those within The Princess and the Frog have garnered attention even preceding the film’s release. Set in 1920’s New Orleans the movie tells the story of Disney’s first African American princess, Tiana, and her struggle to achieve her dream of opening her own restaurant. As per usual Disney had on their rose-colored glasses in making this film. Although it would be nice to imagine a world as pleasant as that depicted in the movie, Disney conveniently ignores the problems of segregation and racism that plagued the U.S. at the time the movie takes place. Instead a picture of harmony is presented in which only the vaguest hints of reality peek through in the form of a clear distinction between white and black neighborhoods and an offhand comment—which on the surface is about economic standing but could potentially read in racial terms as well—made to Tiana by one of the realtors from whom she is trying to buy her future restaurant.

One might also point out that the movie’s villain, Dr. Facilier, is an African American man who is attempting to take control of New Orleans from its most prominent resident, Big Daddy La Bouf, whose wealth, while not directly explained, is hinted to have come from either the sugar or cotton industry. Suffice it to say that Dr. Facilier eventually fails in this attempt. However, in Disney’s defense it should be noted that the filmmakers seemed to have actively tried to avoid or correct some of the issues connected to the film. For example, while Dr. Facilier is shown to use voodoo to bewitch and swindle his victims, Mama Odie uses voodoo to help those around her. Also, in the end, Dr. Facilier is not overcome by being “put in his place” but instead by Tiana’s decision to choose love over greed which results in Dr. Facilier’s spell being broken allowing his “friends on the other side” to take him as payment for his debts.

Where both films stumble in terms of how racial conflict is understood, oppositely they excel in their depiction of women, an action which serves to convey a message of the importance of balance. In Avatar we learn upon meeting the Na’vi that they are a patriarchal society in structure but not in such fashion that discredits or ignores the importance of the female Na’vi. In fact the society is shown to be co-ruled by a male civic leader and a female spiritual leader. This spiritual leadership is nothing to be taken lightly as the Na’vi are an extremely spiritual people who commune directly with their planet and its other inhabitants, as well as having a deep spiritual bond to their goddess Aywa, whose power is eventually proven scientifically by Grace Augustine (Sigourney Weaver). Also within Na’vi culture males and females are able to take up the same jobs and roles with many of the warriors and hunters, who fly the dangerous banshee, being female.

These roles are both exhibited by Neytiri (Zoe Saldana) the young Na’vi woman who brings Jake Sully to the Na’vi and eventually forms a deep and romantic relationship with him. Neytiri is depicted as a fierce and formidable warrior with a deep spiritual connection to Aywa and her people. When the civic leader, Neytiri’s father, dies during an assault on the Na’vi she is the one to receive his bow, a weapon she eventually kills the film’s central antagonist with.

Another way in which the Na’vi are shown to be superior to the humans comes from this balance between male and female. When Jake convinces the Na’vi to gather in order to strike back against the humans, Neytiri rides out with him on his mount at the head of the warriors. At first this may look like yet another damsel tagging along on the back of the saddle—after all, Neytiri does have her own mount—but what is really going on is a reinforcement of balance. Here Jake is not leading the Na’vi alone, with Neytiri riding with him it is a joint venture and they are both leading The People; as Jake flies Neytiri cries out encouraging her people and calling them onward.

When the importance of female Na’vi within their society becomes clear it also illuminates the lack of women on the human side. Throughout the film only two human women become somewhat prominent: Dr. Grace Augustine and Trudy Chacon (Michelle Rodriguez) and ultimately both choose the side of the Na’vi when war breaks out. Very few other women can be spotted amongst the ranks of the humans and none are obvious along the front lines. The situation this creates is one in which the “bad” guys are a society without balance and the “good” people are in balance. A similar argument has been made about the Empire and Rebel Allience in the original Star Wars trilogy, although Avatar does this more obviously.

What about The Princess and the Frog then? Disney has long been debated concerning its princesses and their depictions. In the 90’s during the Disney Renaissance it became clear several times that the company was attempting to make its female characters more than just damsels in distress or heartsick romantics with one of the strongest examples being Belle from Beauty and the Beast who ultimately saves the prince instead of being saved, although yet again her happy ending was to fall in love. Tiana becomes something new. Not only is Tiana’s dream to be a business owner but any romantic bones in her body are completely focused on the restaurant and not some prince. Instead the typical princess dreams are left to her friend Charlotte. Despite dreaming of nothing but true love and prince charming, Charlotte never becomes stale. She, like Tiana—who snores and is far from perfect—has her own realistic moments where she sweats too much, has to redo her make-up and readjusts her dress like any teenage girl might adjust a strapless top. Not to mention that while she is terribly spoiled, Charlotte is not selfish and never fails to be kind to others.

Unlike most other Disney princes who are non-entities or innocent diamonds in the rough, Prince Naveen is a flawed, ladies man who is as focused on play as Tiana is on work. During their time together as frogs the two each learn to appreciate a little of what the other offers. In falling in love with Tiana, Naveen comes to understand the value of hard work and discovers what it is like to want to make sacrifices in order to make a loved one happy. Naveen is even the first to make these gestures. For her part Tiana comes to realize that a single-minded determination to have a business may cost her what should be just as important, love. Thus when Naveen is willing to marry Charlotte in order for Tiana and himself to become human again and for Tiana to get the money for her restaurant, Tiana finds that her dream of having her business can only really become true if Naveen is a part of it. While the film progresses to the typical Disney wedding of Prince and (now) princess, the real happy ending of the movie comes when the two are able to open the restaurant together through sharing the work and not by any deus ex machina in the form of Naveen’s wealthy family.

The need for balance between love/play and work expressed by Tiana and Naveen are not the only examples within the film. As mentioned before where we see Dr. Facilier use voodoo for bad, Mama Odie uses it for good. This is also another of the more unique points of The Princess and the Frog. Whereas Disney has traditionally had female villains, an occurrence that possibly stems from Disney’s tendency to make its antagonists a mirror of its protagonists thus having female villains for its female leads and male villains for its male leads, The Princess and the Frog is one of the rare examples of a female protagonist paired against a male villain.

Disney also works to balance how the side characters are understood as well. Shortly after meeting Ray the Cajun firefly and his extended family, who at first would seem a mean parody as most of them are missing teeth or look a little dimwitted, a trio of Hillbillies appear, causing havoc. After seeing the good-natured spirit of the fireflies who work together to guide Tiana and Naveen and who clearly have close family ties, the overly violent and uncooperative Hillbillies make it clear that while the fireflies might be a little backwoods, they are definitely to be admired and not to be thought poorly of.

Despite their problems, both Avatar and The Princess and the Frog present their viewers with positive messages about the treatment of others and the need for balance in our personal lives as well as within our societies. While neither is your typical award fare and are ultimately intended as primarily entertainment pieces, their ability to send such messages presents us with two prime examples of how entertainment does not have be dimwitted or without moral.

The Banjo-Blazer Himself

The concert began with a newer number.  The four familiar members of the band took the stage in a modest sort of lighting which suggested that they were comfortable enough with their ill-begotten appearances to know that they’re amazing musicians.  The awkwardness was clear, the audience didn’t even know if they should applaud, a rudimentary action when any headlining act takes the stage.  When the music began, however, all doubt about the protocol was removed.

Bela Fleck, chief songwriter and banjo player, blazed up and down his fretboard in a prototypical finger picking style that would leave most competent acoustic guitar players in the dust.  On his right stood Victor Wooten, who has been named the Best Jazz Bassist of all time by several reputable music publications.  The honor is warranted; typically, a six or seven minute segment of the Flecktones’ set is devoted to a solo from Wooten, who almost always receives a standing ovation afterwards.  Across the stage stands Victor Wooten’s brother, who is known simply as Futureman for his eccentric appearance and even more peculiar instrument.  Futureman plays a self-invented instrument called a Drumitar, a box-like instrument with a long neck and colorful buttons which produce the noises of a drumset.  Futureman also plays alongside a regular drumset, which he sometimes plays with one hand and the Drumitar with the other.  His style is necessarily unique because the band often plays in complex time signatures.  The final member of the band is Jeff Coffin, a virtuoso horn player who often puts two saxophones in his mouth to perform his own harmonies.  Coffin, although his talent is perhaps the most often demonstrated in the band’s lengthy compositions, is probably the least interesting guy to watch.  When you have the best bass and banjo players in the world standing next to each other along with an instrument that you can’t really wrap your mind around, you tend to ignore the tenor saxophone.

Alash

After the intermission, the Flecktones brought to the stage a band called Alash from the small Republic of Tuva, a region located in south-central Siberia.  Alash was less a “band” than a collection of Tuvan musicians who excelled at their traditional folk instruments and vocal techniques, the latter of which was an impressive combination of throat-singing and overtones which sounded like vey high pitched whistling.  The concept isn’t unfamiliar to the West, just not very well known: large male acapella groups often have implicit overtones.  Alash played three songs alone and a couple songs with the Flecktones, including a Tuvan-American rendition of Jingle Bells.  Their presence with the Flecktones, the band which the audience paid to see, is a testament to Bela Fleck’s insistence on surrounding himself with the most talented and interesting musicians in the world.  One of these Tuvan musicians also appears on the Bela Fleck and the Flecktones’ DVD Live at the Quick, along with a protégé steel-drummer and an Indian drummer who participates in a percussion-banjo duel.  Definitely worth checking out.

The set was about 150 minutes long and incredible to watch, although about half of it was traditional Christmas music Flecktones-style.  Despite cat-calls from the audience and some awkward moments (I really don’t like the fact that the State serves alcohol), Bela Fleck and the Flecktones performed with their usual and distinctive abilities.  The band tours extensively, so if you have the chance, you should check them out.

For tour dates and other information, see http://www.flecktones.com/.

For Alash, see http://www.alashensemble.com/.