PREVIEW: Hedwig and the Angry Inch

Hedwig and the Angry Inch is a movie first released in 2001 about the life of a German emigrant living in a trailer in Kansas. She is the victim of a botched sex-change operation, and the movie follows her, as an “internationally ignored” rock singer, as she searches for stardom, and maybe even love.

The movie originated as a Broadway musical, and was eventually translated into film. John Cameron Mitchell starred in and wrote  the musical, and he also stars in and directed the movie as well. I have always had this musical on my bucket list, especially after Darren Criss became the star. And if I can’t see the musical, the movie is the next best option!

Hedwig and the Angry Inch is playing at the State Theater on Friday (Nov. 8) and Saturday (Nov. 9) at 10 pm.

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4p9mPhGo1j0

Friday tickets:  https://secure.michtheater.org/websales/pages/TicketSearchCriteria.aspx?evtinfo=647021~c76be4f4-22b5-4bed-a89c-7def863b8c53&

Saturday Tickets: https://secure.michtheater.org/websales/pages/TicketSearchCriteria.aspx?evtinfo=647022~c76be4f4-22b5-4bed-a89c-7def863b8c53&

Just a side note: This movie is rated R for sexual content and language.

PREVIEW: Department of Jazz Showcase

Tired of the relentless droning on of the work week? Can’t quite wait for the weekend to release yourself from monotony’s cruel grip?

Then head on down to the Blue Llama Jazz Club tomorrow, Thursday, November 7, at 7-10pm to witness a spectacular performance by Michigan students and faculty of the Department of Jazz and Contemporary Improvisation! The group will be showcasing both their own compositions and classic jazz songs by some of the old greats.

The cover is free with the purchase of food or drink, though there will be a spot on the check for you to offer a tip for the night’s entertainers. Show up when the mood strikes, or stay for the whole evening. Due to the popularity of the establishment, it is recommended that you make a reservation ahead of time, which can be done here: https://www.bluellamaclub.com/event/u-m-school-of-music-jazz-showcase-2?fbclid=IwAR1Wo3BvqFEDqP5g_F6bYudYogisFpNsWsv9ET2nayrF5ZudCzUwTdZeLLQ

Hope to see you there!

REVIEW: Ann Arbor Symphony – Liszt & Tchaikovsky

The Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra’s Saturday evening performance at the Michigan Theater was a musical tour de force showcasing a variety of styles and textures.

The concert opened with Wang Jie’s Symphonic Overture on “America, the Beautiful.”  A fugue on the iconic patriotic song that evokes “spacious skies,” “amber waves of grain,” and “purple mountains majesty,” Ms. Jie’s rendition is fittingly also inspired by Pike’s Peak. This mountain in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado is the location that inspired Katharine Lee Bates to write the poem that would be set to the tune we know as “America, the Beautiful”. However, Ms. Jie’s composition was quite a contrast from the style of the original tune that was written in 1882 by Samuel A. Ward. It was dynamic, fresh, and very much alive. Although it was short in length, it managed to get a lot across in that short span of time, and as a listener, I enjoyed every minute and was not ready for it to end when it did. Even more of a treat was the fact that Wang Jie was present in the audience, and when she came onstage at the end of the piece, the audience received her with enthusiastic applause.

In the second piece on the program, Liszt’s Piano Concerto No. 2, soloist Anton Nel dazzled the audience, even garnering calls for an encore, which he obliged to. His playing, which was light and technically brilliant, drew me out of my seat in the hall and into the world of the music for the duration of the piece.

Last on the program was Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 5 in E minor, Op. 64. The orchestra overall was excellent, but it was the solo players that shone through in this piece. I was especially impressed by the clarinets at the very beginning of movement 1, the Andante – although they were playing as a pair for most of the time, their blend was such that they sounded like a single instrument. Furthermore, the solo horn in the second movement was exquisite.

The Ann Arbor Symphony’s concert, entitled “Liszt and Tchaikovsky,” was one not to be missed. At the end of a stressful week, it was the musical escape that I needed

REVIEW: International Studies Horror Film Fest

Another year of the annual International Studies Horror Film Fest has come and gone, and with it went my hope that they would show actual horror movies.

Don’t get me wrong; the selections were wonderfully artistic and variable in tone and theme and texture. All three featured original plots and unsettling undertones. They each force a bit of creepiness into one’s idea of the world, while remaining quite beautiful. However, I would have appreciated at least one fully, overtly gruesome movie in the program. The gore was almost nonexistent in all of the films, limited to a few scenes of graphicness apiece. I found myself groaning over the romantic subplots and long periods of calm while trying to focus on the main stories and character dynamics. On Halloween, I need fear to rule. This can be done in complex, story-rich, writerly ways; the artistry of a film need not be sacrificed. Thus, even if the fest’s planners intended to get together a group of intellectually stimulating movies, they could have done so while giving the audience a little more of a scare.

Face was basically CSI or Criminal Minds in all it accomplished horror-wise. The whole movie seems cast in shadows, plagued by an uninspired soundtrack and TV-drama style acting. But the pace of the film was perfect, a slow reveal of a shocking truth whose slime does something venomous to the psyche of the audience.

The Lure was an entire musical, and certainly the only movie of its kind, however impossible to define that may be. The heavy glamour of the strip club pairs so well with the mythology surrounding mermaids, and the girls’ dead stares were a perfect balance for all the life in their musical numbers. The unwholesomeness of the young girls participating in this business combines with the sexual power of mermaids in lore to create an uneasy feeling for the audience, similar to the trickery sailors face in all the stories. But even with the violence and the complex uneasiness, this movie is far closer to a comedy than a horror film.

Dogtooth seemed like something I should have enjoyed, given that its creator is the same man behind The Lobster (a movie which, after watching, made me feel so unmoored that I literally held onto street signs as I walked to the bus stop, certain I’d blow away with the wind). It bears obvious similarities in how the cast is directed to act (basically emotionless, flat) and the minimalism of the indoor environments. But it falls short of creating the same level of effect for me that Lanthimos had in his later film. I think he realizes later in his career that there is a limit to the lack of expression he can write into his actors and the barrenness of the landscape before it becomes too offputting for the audience to focus on the story. In short, I got bored, and the beauty of the expertly done lighting and the carefully constructed garden space did little to change that. Some emotional music would have gone a long way.

Truly, these movies have tons of artistic value to consider and appreciate. In another sort of film festival, they would be great additions (and indeed, they have been inputs of such festivals as Cannes and Sundance), but I still hold that they are unwise selections for a true horror fest. I hope that next year, they have more time in the gallery to show an extra movie that a Halloween lover would appreciate.

REVIEW: Monos

Monos begins high above the rest of the world. So high, that one can watch the fluffy tops of clouds as they meander across the sky. So high, that trouble seems a distant, unthinkable thing. But trouble finds its way everywhere eventually. It will hunt you down with relentless feet and unbounded strength. For the eight teenaged soldiers stationed atop a Columbian mountain, trouble comes in the form of a dairy cow. Or maybe that is an oversimplification. Maybe trouble was always there, awaiting an opportunity to rear its bloody head. Because these are isolated teenagers, orphans really, conscripted into a war they don’t fully understand. The tragedy is that for this group, peace was never truly an option.

 

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Choice is always lacking in Monos. There is no escape from this beautiful, isolated place. They are trapped together and so, together they form a makeshift family with makeshift names. Throughout the film, the teenagers only use pseudonyms. Their false names are like flimsy costumes, war-like personas that they assume as they pretend to be soldiers. Still, for all their bravado, they are young. There is so much potential in their youth and so much danger. Youth is corruptible and all that potential can quickly turn sour. The question becomes if any of that budding hope can survive in such an unforgiving environment. The adults, those who should be caretakers to the children, hand them guns instead. And so, when there is no one to turn to and nowhere to go, what can they do except obey orders and shoot to kill? In the rampage of war, they are the most helpless pawns of all. In their attempts to gain a semblance of power for themselves, the teenagers can only imitate the system that they know, one of violence and oppression. Even imagining a world without endless conflict seems impossible.

The film, though, is not devoid of hope or beauty. There is no lack of beautiful landscapes, even when they become marred by blood. The stony majesty of the mountain is framed in beautiful wide shots by cinematographer, Jasper Wolf. The camera soars above all, to the heavens, rendering every person small and insignificant. Against the vast expanses of sky, the teenagers are only black shadows. They are rendered indistinct, without detail as they stare into a universe that seems infinite. The tragedy, though, is in the limitations. During their brutal training sessions, the frame becomes claustrophobically tight on their faces. We see all the strain, all the terror of failing or showing any weakness. For, no weakness will be tolerated. They are trapped again. The way Monos alternates between different kinds of shots is unsettling. It throws audiences into an uncomfortable situation where nothing is quite safe. Even during the moments of exhilaration, when there exists the possibility of a haven within the confines of war, there always looms a sense of dread. This is reinforced by an intermittent score that kicks in without warning and ends in a searing screech. Otherwise, the film is almost entirely silent, broken only by snatches of dialogue.

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That dialogue is delivered with equal amounts of veracity and vulnerability by the young actors. Especially prominent is Sofia Buenaventura as Rambo. Rambo is the gentlest of the group and therefore, tasked with the most inner conflict. She has still not quite given up the idea of a different life, one that she can see with eyes that express every feeling. But even the harshest of the teenagers do not begin as stony killers. They are capable of happiness, capable of openness. Gradually, though, as they close their hearts, as they embrace violence, the actors become harsher too. Their expressions sharpen and bodies move more wildly, desperation in every tendon. But no matter how hard they strive, they can’t escape. Their actions are meaningless in a grander scheme.

Monos is an unrelenting ride. It alternates between loud and quiet, between small and large. However, for all its varying extremes, there is one overwhelming direction. Down. The film plummets from the beautiful mountaintop into the depths of the jungle. We fall with it, knowing that there is nothing to waiting to catch us at the bottom.

REVIEW: Mark Webster Reading Series

As my first impression of the Mark Webster Reading Series, I must say I was thoroughly impressed. From the venue, to the atmosphere, to the amazing authors, I enjoyed myself from start to finish.

The Helmut Stern Auditorium in the University of Michigan Museum or Art (UMMA) is a perfect place to host these readings. The auditorium is beautiful. Not so large that I felt disconnected from the reader, but not so small that I was uncomfortable. Like Goldilocks, I found myself in a venue that was just right. Being from a technical theater background, I couldn’t help but notice that the entire event went smoothly; no lighting or sound errors, no technical difficulties. Seemingly a small feat, but I know how easy it is for things to go wrong, and from what I could tell, they had their shit together.

Entering this event was like entering a separate universe. Within the auditorium, everyone was so friendly and eager to listen to the night’s readers. The hosts were funny and relatable when introducing the event and transitioning between authors. Notable was the peer introductions. Each writer was introduced by one of their peers; a friend and fellow writer. These peers wrote their own introductions, and did very well to prepare me for what was to come. They were very genuine, not only tackling the things each author writes or where they each grew up, but also the composition of their own character, and the most important question: why do they write what they do.

Annesha Sengupta was the fictional writer of the night. Her style of writing the same characters into every story under different circumstances is very clever and unique. The story she chose to share was very moving; a story about a father, told three different times, with three different outcomes. The story did very well to test the bounds of fatherhood, of family. Particularly notable to me was the last of the three stories, in which the father goes to a Waffle House, and proceeds to be haunted by ghosts of his parents, making him reflect on his past with his daughter and wife. I was certainly impressed with the diction and voice imposed by Annesha. Something was certainly to be gained from listening to her read as opposed to reading it myself.

Bryan Byrdlong, the poet for the night, shared a number of poems with the audience. Almost all of them had one thing in common: zombies. When Bryan’s peer mentioned zombies in her introduction, I had to admit I was a little on guard. Fortunately, I was not disappointed by Bryan’s tellings of zombies. These were not stereotypical zombies you see on TV. They were more meaningful. Hidden beneath each one was a message. It was less about being a zombie or running from them, and more about feeling like a zombie. Woven into his poems were questions of race and identity, of right and wrong. My favorite was the first one he read. It was a simple concept, really. He watched a video of a cop shooting a black man, but in reverse. This way, it appeared that the man rose from the dead, and the cop ran away in fear. Something about the simplicity of the story compared to the complexity of the message within certainly made this poem stand out as my favorite. However, the rest of his works were each exceptional in their own right.

Overall a truly amazing experience; hopefully the first of many. Huge thank you to Helen Zell, who gives the amazing opportunity for these writers to share their work, UMMA, for providing a perfect location, and Annesha Sengupta and Bryan Byrdlong, for sharing their amazing work!