PREVIEW: Reservoir Dogs

This Friday night, the Michigan Theatre is screening yet another cult classic— the grotesquely dramatic Reservoir Dogs, a 1992 Tarantino-directed tale of men committing bloody crimes in an experienced manner and turning on each other with machismo flair. I’ve never seen Reservoir Dogs, but judging from Quentin Tarantino’s typical style of writing and directing, I’m expecting dialogue ridden with deadpan jokes, bloody spurts of gunfire, and maybe a few close-up shots of manicured feet.

Reservoir Dogs is celebrating its thirtieth anniversary this year, so it comes as no surprise that the cult-classic-obsessed Michigan Theatre is giving the film a night to shine. The plot of Reservoir Dogs entails a diamond heist attempted by a group of thieves. One of the thieves tips off the police, unraveling a group investigation into which member of the group is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. My opinions on Tarantino’s works fall all across the spectrum— Kill Bill entranced me with its memorable characters and enthralling journey; Django: Unchained exhibited the thrill of revenge with beautiful violence; Pulp Fiction, however, fell short as an incohesive mess that tried to make up for its lack of plot with good chemistry and fresh edginess. Will Reservoir Dogs drone on aimlessly or reward itself with character arcs and a cleanly wrapped ending? My intuition leans toward the latter, taking the quiet cultural appreciation for the film as a positive sign. Regardless, it’s bound to be an adventure! I can’t say enough that student tickets are $8.50, so grab a ticket to a classic before the school year ends!

REVIEW: 60th Ann Arbor Film Festival

The 60th Ann Arbor Film Festival is a goldmine of ingenuity. Although I only experienced roughly two hours of the weeklong event, I left with a newfound sense of what film could be; film could be a series of ambient noises and fractal images, or a stop-motion documentary comprised completely of graphite drawings. It can be a scene of boredom, commonly overlooked but injected with life as soon as a filmmaker touches it. Held at the Michigan Theatre, which I’ve luckily been able to visit a few times for other movie screenings, the Ann Arbor Film Festival’s diverse crowd complimented the extravagance of the theatre’s gilded ceilings, the environment glowing with quiet excitement. Special screenings at the Michigan Theatre always bring a niche crowd of enthusiasts, but this mingling group of filmmakers and film-goers added another dimension of community.

Although I’d planned on seeing A Lantern Through Your Labyrinth: Out Histories of the Ann Arbor Film Festival, schedule changes led me to see the screening just afterward, Films in Competition 6. I entered the theatre with no expectations except to embrace the bizarre. The Films in Competition 6 didn’t seem to have any common theme or genre tying them together, and the variety was electrifying. About a dozen short films were screened one after the other, ranging from two to twenty minutes. They were tales of heartbreak, death, connection, and experimentation. Some were animated, others filmed in bizarre ways with extended shots and unconventional angles. I found that some of them were tediously drawn-out, while others were deeply moving and opened my eyes to new methods of storytelling.

My favorite short film of the night was Life is a Particle Time is a Wave by Daniel Zvereff. The stop-motion film is illustrated with what looks to be charcoal or graphite on white paper, dense lines telling the tale of a widowed old man floating through the rest of his repetitive and lonesome days. The clever sound design is entrancingly ambient, a steady ticking conveying a complicated relationship with time and the slow march toward death. The motif of time is symbolized in the minimal but effective illustrations— of the man repeatedly fixing his watch, of the ominous clock above him, and of his worn-down face. His brush with death sends the film into a fresh segment that is much more experimental. The screen explodes into surreal designs that flow into each other, smudging and warping to evoke the in-between feeling of a chaotic purgatory. The experience is heartwarming, saddening, and utterly human, masterfully speaking to fundamental human experiences in the span of a few minutes.

After the screenings, a few of the filmmakers took to the stage for a Q&A, allowing the community to connect on a personal level with passionate creators. The “festival” part of “film festival” revealed itself more through this degree of interactivity; it was a group celebration, each person a part of the joyous experience, whether they create or just observe. It is a wholly equal appreciation for art in every form.

Life is a Particle Time is a Wave is just one of the hundreds of mind-bending films in the competition. Knowing I can’t possibly see all of them is a bit saddening, but good news: the best of the best will be shown on Sunday! Award-winning films will be chosen by the jurors and screened to the Ann Arbor public, so grab an $8 student ticket and check it out!

PREVIEW: 60th Ann Arbor Film Festival

Nestled into the predictable hustle-and-bustle of a Midwest college town, nearly swallowed by the indifference of overworked students, March Madness, and the encroaching doom of finals, a week-long event brings a lucky glimpse of worldwide talent to Michigan Theatre. The Ann Arbor Film Festival is the oldest experimental and avant-garde film festival in North America, reaching all the way back to 1963.  Each year, thousands of film submissions compete for less than two hundred spots in the six-day event. As prestigious of an honor it is to even secure a spot in the lineup, AAFF competitors are even eligible to qualify for Academy Awards, illuminating a world of possibility beyond the big screens. This showcase of creative talent annually sets up shop in our own backyard at the Michigan Theatre, so why not make the walk to witness a couple of hours of rare genius? The week of film screenings extends from March 22nd to the 27th; each day features a schedule of special screenings and “Films in Competition” that compete for awards. The festival wraps up on Sunday with screenings of the winning films. Attendees can choose from a range of events to attend, from experimental shorts to animated features and grim documentaries. There’s something for everyone at AAFF.

I am attending the third night of film screenings on Thursday the 24th, specifically the special program titled A Lantern Through Your Labyrinth: Out Histories of the Ann Arbor Film Festival. This program focuses on experimental LGBTQ cinema throughout the film festival’s history; going into this with very little knowledge of the film festival or its queer artists, I hope to be enlightened about the intersectionality of film and its role in this distinguished event.

Student tickets are only $8 for any event of your choice! Find more information, buy tickets, and view the full schedule at https://www.aafilmfest.org/.

REVIEW: Big Thief – Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You

If the music of Big Thief was a physical place, it would be a campfire nestled in a mossy forest, friends cozying up around the flame and reminiscing on bittersweet memories. Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You, the American band’s fifth studio album, is the same campfire at dawn while the world sleeps, embers flickering, the sky brightening over a peaceful horizon. After conjuring this mental image, I came to realize that the cover itself is a sketchy drawing of animals around a campfire— a pure reflection of the album’s commitment to simple and authentic emotion. As the nature imagery suggests, the sonic world of the indie-folk act is anything but industrial. Even their more experimental songs are rooted in traditional folk, avoiding the mass-produced synthetic sound of modern pop. This genuine touch is what brings Big Thief’s masterful work to life.

DNWMIBIY feels more in touch with the band’s true voice than Big Thief’s 2016 album Masterpiece. The folky guitar evokes images of my youth, of rainy-day hikes in little red rain boots and curiously watching bugs move across the ground. Big Thief explores themes of adolescence, particularly the growing pains of becoming older and finding yourself face-to-face with an emotional reality no longer shrouded by naivety. Adrianne Lenker— who released successful solo music that leans toward a more delicate feminine sound— pours her heart into the vocals, her wavering voice expressing rawness that doesn’t have to be screamed to be felt. “Change” is a particularly resonant track and one of the most popular on the album; lyrically, “Change” has the same transcendent feeling as classic poetry. Like a gentle lullaby, Lenker sings:

“Change like the sky, like the leaves, like a butterfly, death, like a door to a place we’ve never been before”.

The album dives fearlessly into experiments as the album progresses, with spunky lyrics and textured sounds that stray from the calm earthy feel but still stick to the sense of adolescence. Adrianne Lenker’s songwriting is similar to a child’s wild and carelessly joyous thought process. It feels loose, freeing, and successfully exploratory. “Spud Infinity” carries on nature imagery to shout a gleefully unified message:

“One peculiar organism aren’t we all together?
Everybody steps on ants
Everybody eats the plants
Everybody knows to dance, even with just one finger”

Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You is an honest tale of unbridled feeling. Adrianne Lenker’s gentle voice echoes unconditional hope, admiration, and longing; it’s a love letter to the natural wonders of human existence and human expression, packaged in a homey atmosphere. If you’re an outdoorsy person, a folk-music-listener, an indie-music-enjoyer, or simply someone who wants to dig under the chaos of daily life to reconnect with your natural emotions, give this album a listen. Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You by Big Thief is available now on Spotify, Apple Music, or another music streaming platform of your choice.

REVIEW: DOGFIGHT

This weekend, the Arthur Miller Theatre buzzed with ecstatic energy and uncontainable pride during a three-night run of DOGFIGHT. I have never witnessed a musical with such raw emotional power. Set in San Fransisco in the 60s, DOGFIGHT explores the peaks and pitfalls of human experience through a realistic lens— love, death, war, and naivety culminate in a final theme of the capacity for human growth. While much of the subject matter is heavy, effortless wittiness provides balance, eliciting echoing laughs from the audience. It’s impossible not to audibly react to DOGFIGHT— you don’t realize how immersed you are until a shock pulls you back to reality.

The environment of the Arthur Miller theatre may be the perfect venue for this show— each wall lined with just a few rows of seats, the experience is intimate no matter where you are. Old televisions are perched above the rows, creatively displaying videos that draw the audience into the setting, but not in a way that overwhelms the performance. The cast of students clearly adopts their roles like a second skin. Their microexpressions and tender moments feel genuine and the chemistry between characters elevates the realism of the relationships. On top of the gut-wrenching and heartwarming theatrics, the orchestra visibly playing at the back of the stage adds another degree of genuine talent. It was refreshing— to say the least— to witness so much passion and dedication in one place.

DOGFIGHT doesn’t drag on, but rather allows just enough time for the dynamic characters to fulfill their arcs. It’s equal parts satisfying and saddening; after all, DOGFIGHT is bluntly realistic in its portrayals of war and life’s unfair battles, refusing to glaze over the grittiness of the 60s and the social dynamics of that era. The way the men talked, their speech packed with misogynistic jabs and self-absorbed ignorance, tinged with an obsession with violence, is a powerful social commentary on masculinity and war; is it an outlet? A solution? Or just a masked attempt at proving one’s worth? On the other side of the gender binary, DOGFIGHT analyzes the woman’s dilemma; can men ever be trusted to be unconditionally and honestly loving? The leading female character, Rose, is often treated as an extension of the leading male character, Eddie. I wish her character’s aspirations and confidence had been explored more outside the bounds of reactions to Eddie. However, the love story takes reasonable precedence as DOGFIGHT builds a vulnerable relationship.

DOGFIGHT was an exhilarating ride of a musical. A fervently emotional portrait of war-torn America and tough love proves that even the dark and deeply flawed is worth working for. This was one of the best free experiences I’ve had at Michigan, and I look forward to seeing more University of Michigan productions in the future.

PREVIEW: DOGFIGHT

Although I’m typically not a fan of musicals, there’s something intriguing about DOGFIGHT. The admission is free, which already provides a decent incentive for college students lacking funds, but the premise of the musical is particularly interesting, and watching talented UMich students pour their hearts into a performance is guaranteed to be an awe-inspiring experience.

Based on a film, DOGFIGHT takes place in the 60s and follows the story of marines preparing to be sent across the sea. They celebrate their last night of freedom by placing bets on who can find the ugliest girl to bring to a party. Questionable and immoral, I know, but the plot focuses on one couple and has a romantic twist that brings out the soft side in us enemies-to-lovers trope enjoyers. The play examines old-fashioned beliefs, war, vulnerability, and how traumatic events can change our perspective on the world and ourselves.

The performance will be held at the Arthur Miller Theatre, a small and intimate venue. I’ve never attended an event at the venue, but I’m interested in how the small space will transform the experience. Witnessing the talent of fellow students with this degree of closeness is bound to be spark pride in my status as a Wolverine and elevate the emotionality of the performance exponentially.

Once again— tickets are free! Tomorrow is the third and final show, so show up early to support the performers of UMich and be part of a wild ride.