Author: Maeve Ricks

Hello! I'm a senior on the Ann Arbor campus studying theatre. I love to write about all things theatre, film, and art for social change. My number one question when seeing artistic work is "why now?" I hope we can discover the answer together. Thank you for supporting art and happy reading!

REVIEW: For the Love of (Or, the Roller Derby Play)

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As I settled into my seat at the Arthur Miller Theatre, little did I know that I was about to be whisked away into the adrenaline-pumping world of roller derby, a world I had never explored before. Enter the Rude Mechanicals and their electrifying production of For the Love of (or, the Roller Derby Play), which proved to be a dazzling spectacle that captivated from start to finish.

The Rude Mechanicals team assembled a seamless fusion of sets, costumes, hair, and lighting, each working harmoniously to transport this newbie into the vibrant, gritty world of roller derby. The dazzling costumes and imaginative set design were like characters themselves, imbued with the essence of the sport and its audacious players. 

And then there was the derby choreography, wow! The energetic sequences dazzled with their exhilarating pace, brilliantly captured the sport’s chaos and thrill while presumably being far safer than the real thing. The cast flew around the stage with infectious energy and precision, making the audience feel as if we’d dropped into a match on the fast track. 

Before the show, audience members were given team flags, stirring up competitive spirit and encouraging us to root for our favorite characters, which is a thrilling addition. This electrified the atmosphere, resulting in a lively yet respectful crowd. Imagine an audience fully engaged, mouths agape, eyes wide, and hearts pounding, not because of a stray Instagram scroll, but because the performance demanded it. 

However, every fierce jam (that’s a roller derby term I learned) has its slip-up, and here, the plot’s initial momentum veers off course. The script begins as a captivating ensemble piece, weaving the members’ stories like a taut team flag. Yet, it falters towards the end of act one, turning towards a singular storyline with a sapphic love triangle. This divulgence from the derby isn’t necessarily bad because sapphic love isn’t relevant to the story, but it dilutes the broader message of empowerment and unity within roller derby, which is what the story initially offers as you get to know the characters in the first act.

Despite this narrative detour, the cast delivered stellar performances. The actresses portraying Lizzie Lightning, Sophia Santos Ufkes, and Andrea the Vagiant, Sarah Josephina Hartmus, stood out, their portrayals embodying fierce athleticism and vulnerable emotion that provided nuanced reflections of the roller derby spirit, and their complicated characters. 

For the Love of (or, the Roller Derby Play) invited me into the intense, enthralling world of roller derby with Rude Mechanicals at the helm—definitely a production to be experienced. While I left with a major issue with the script, the overall excellence of the production remains undeniable. No matter the jam, in the rink, you’ll find your way through.

REVIEW: Our Oz

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When whispers of a new, boldly reimagined Our Oz started swirling around campus, I braced myself for the worst. Yet, much to my surprise, the production served up an experience that settled comfortably into the realm of average. Not horrible, not good, just a mixed bag of theatrical intrigue and hasty storytelling, leaving me more intrigued by what it could become than what it was at the moment.

Our Oz ambitiously sets out to explore the beloved tale of Dorothy and co. through a BIPOC and Queer lens, drawing inspiration from “The Wizard of Oz,” “The Wiz,” and even “Our Town.” It’s a potent concept that developed through a devising process between students and faculty, but it’s a concept that suffers from a script that was, frankly, as smooth as Toto’s sudden speaking role (which is to say not smooth whatsoever.) The story unfolded at a speed comparable to a twister through Kansas; this whirlwind pace left little room to develop its characters or embody the timely nuances it aimed for. But, hey, at least I got home early since there was no intermission.

Let’s talk about Toto because, apparently, he’s the narrator now, and an omniscient one with a surprising penchant for clunky, preachy lines that often feel like being hit over the head with a moral textbook. As a character, Toto had energy, but the writing left him scrambling to seamlessly bridge the tale. Remember, show, don’t tell, right?

Thankfully, the production did boast some shining elements. The projection and set design stood out magnificently; videography merged with live theatre in a way that felt fresh and immersive. Scenic Designer, Jungah Han, transformed the stage with a modern yellow brick road, inviting audiences into an Oz that brimmed with modernity and innovation (a promise the script itself couldn’t quite live up to.)

The actors certainly gave it their all. The actor’s playing the four main friends (Dorothy, Scarecrow, Tin Woman, and the Lion) infused their roles with spirit and charisma, managing to breathe warmth and humor into a sometimes uneven narrative. The Lion, played by Jonas Annear, was especially heartwarming with their karaoke songs and dynamic performance, successfully playing timid and fierce throughout the show.

Overall, Our Oz is one of those productions you’re glad to have seen, if only to say you’ve experienced it. The show indeed requires some fine-tuning, perhaps a slower pace and a more refined script could uncover its potential. And who knows, in a few years, after some creative soul-searching and adjustments, I’d consider returning for another round, especially if the tickets were free.Here’s to wishing Our Oz a future as vibrant and visionary as the world it endeavors to conjure.

REVIEW: A Minecraft Movie

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WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD.

“CHICKEN JOCKEY!!!!!” A family with young children screams behind me. Filled with joy and elation, they celebrate the iconic moments of A Minecraft Movie starring Jack Black and Jason Momoa. When a mysterious portal pulls four misfits into the cubic world of Minecraft, they’ll soon discover that all they’ve imagined can come true with the help of a pickaxe, a crafting table, and a man named Steve.

Now, let’s be very clear: A Minecraft Movie isn’t great. It’s not even good. It’s bad… very bad. It’s so bad, you can’t stop watching. In fact, it’s so bad that I want to go back to my local Ann Arbor Cinemark and pay to see it again. And seeing movies nowadays is expensive! A Minecraft Movie may be a bad movie, but it’s a movie worth paying $20 dollars and then some to see.

I’d argue that it may be the new Rocky Horror Picture Show, or at least it should be. Every spring, gamers should come together to scream out signature movie phrases, dress up, and throw popcorn at the screen. If Rocky Horror fans can throw toast at the screen once a year, let the minecrafters do the same. (Don’t twist my words and be a jerk though while it’s still in theatres this season.)

The movie doesn’t have a lot of bad elements. It’s actually well-constructed, and incredibly designed, but, unfortunately, there are a few glaring issues that take all the attention away from the good things happening in this movie. (1) The ridiculous plot lines; the worst one that comes to mind is when a Minecraft villager enters the human realm and falls in love with Jennifer Coolidge. It’s a type of relationship that feels like it should be illegal, but then again, it’s fiction; thank goodness. (2) The female characters are poorly written. If A Minecraft Movie passes the Bechdel test, it does so on a technicality. The screenwriting team consists of 5 men, and it shows. The most prominent female characters, Natalie and Dawn, serve only to support Henry, the young boy who is the movie’s catalyst. It’s unfortunate because Minecraft has such a diverse player base, with over 40% of those players identifying as women. I wonder how the movie would be rated if it had taken the time to invest in a more complex, diverse cast of characters that better aligns with the diverse players who actually play the game. 

Still, there’s a lot to love about this movie: the random songs that come in at unexpected times (thank you, Jack Black), the playful, cubic animations, the deep-cut game references, and odes to the people that built Minecraft’s platform (for example Technoblade’s memoriam, and using Minecraft YouTubers as extras). It’s a great movie to see with your friends. You’ll laugh; you’ll cry; you might even pee your pants; or you might accidentally fall asleep like I did. No matter, it will always be a bad movie, and you’ll always have fun watching it.

So, purchase your overpriced and oversalted popcorn, slather it in butter, and eat alongside Jack Black as he makes his infamous lava chicken because he sure isn’t making a cake.

REVIEW: Titanic: The Musical

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Titanic: The Musical is a grand undertaking, promising an epic retelling of the historic disaster. And yet, this production found itself navigating turbulent waters and ultimately struggled to stay afloat. While the intent was ambitious, the execution left something to be desired, particularly in its lack of directorial boldness and inventive staging.

As the familiar story unfolded, one hoped to feel the looming dread and gravity of the sinking ship. Instead, the staging remained disappointingly static, failing to capture the urgency and chaos that the storyline demands. Titanic’s narrative should be a rising tide of tension and emotion, and yet it floundered around in shallow waters. A more dynamic approach to the physical space and movement could have transformed the experience into something truly riveting.

Another unfortunate iceberg in the path was the book itself, drowning under the weight of too many characters. The ensemble cast, while talented, had to fight for precious narrative space, leaving audiences adrift, unable to form meaningful connections or investment in their fates. With a plethora of characters vying for attention, the emotional impact of their plight was diluted, resulting in boredom and a noticeable uptick in glowing screens among the audience.

Sound mixing woes further muddled the waters. The orchestra’s impressive performance was marred by inadequate balance, often overwhelming the vocals. This left many lines and lyrics indecipherable, which is an ironic twist considering the music direction by Tyler Driskell managed to harness the beauty of the score so magnificently. Though the ensemble’s voices were heavenly, our ability to understand their words was sunk all the way down to Davy Jones’ locker.

Despite the muddled aspects, standout performances helped keep the ship from sinking entirely. Landon Wouters as Captain Smith, Nile Andah as Harold Bride, and Jason Mulay Koch as Frederick Barrett delivered compelling portrayals. Andah’s and Koch’s telegraph scene in act one, rich with tension and harmony, was a bright spot in the production and everyone’s phones were put away to witness.

While this titanic production (literally and metaphorically) struggled against its own dramaturgical and directorial currents, there were many shining moments for student performers. This production may have sank, but the performers managed to get on a lifeboat and survive. Hopefully, we will witness their talents navigating clearer waters in the future.

REVIEW: asses.masses

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The lights dim, and a sense of communal excitement fills the air. This is asses.masses, a unique blend of performance art and interactive gaming that shows that UMS’s “No Safety Net series” is keen on shattering entertainment norms. Imagine embarking on an 8-12 hour journey through the whimsical yet poignant world of donkeys, alongside 60 of your newest friends—or better yet, fellow asses? It’s a spectacle that blurs the lines between audience and participant, reality and digital whimsy.

The night unfolds with this structure: bursts of gameplay, each lasting 1-2 hours, interspersed with 20-minute breaks full of delicious snacks to refuel the mind and ass (you were sitting for basically 12 hours straight). During each session, one, or multiple brave souls step into the spotlight to take control, leading us all through a donkey-laden adventure examining the complex themes of oppression amongst the masses (the asses). 

And what a game it is! Without spoiling too much, let’s just say it takes you places: ass heaven (or perhaps hell), plots to save and slay donkeys, and interactions with the glinting eyes of ass gods. Our particular group, inventive as ever, decided to collectively voice these celestial beings, yielding echoes of laughter from the creators of asses.masses who were watching from a back corner. A spontaneous chorus, indeed and it seems we were pioneering uncharted ass communications.

What’s truly fascinating is the meta-narrative unfolding within and around this performance. It’s an interesting case study: you’re both an audience member of a performance and also a guinea pig who is trying the game for the first time. As we play, are we not testing the game itself? Watching each other’s reactions, it raises the question: how does our interpretation as audience members inform the art we’re immersed in? asses.masses challenges you to question whether passive observation equates to play; at the end of the evening, are you a gamer if you never held the controller?

Delving further, this unconventionally satirical journey through donkey society cleverly turns the mirror on governmental systems, ethics, and morality. Are we any different from the metaphorical asses, constrained by human societies’ dictates? In a delightfully strange twist, this absurdist narrative finds roots in eerily relevant social commentary.

If you ever get to see the show, bring friends along to share in the story and debate the ethical questions the story raises. But if you attend solo, then chances are you’ll leave with new friends, bonded over collective laughter, and some mutual existential musings about the plight of the ass.

asses.masses is a peculiar and transformational dive into interactive art. It encourages you to reflect upon and engage with the world, proving that games can be profound social experiments when left in the hooves of good company. Here, you’re not just along for the ride; you are part of an unpredictable, evolving story where the roles of ass and master blur. Hopefully, asses.masses will come to a city near you soon, and you can embark on a donkey-ful escapade.

REVIEW: Paddington in Peru

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Gather ’round, marmalade enthusiasts and curious movie-goers: Paddington is back! This time, our favorite conscious, talking bear trades in the drizzle of London for the vibrant hues of Peru. Paddington in Peru is pretty much a fluffy, cinematic hug, and don’t we all need that every so often? 

When a mysterious letter arrives at the Brown family’s doorstep, it whisks Paddington and company off on an adventure across the Atlantic, landing them in the lush and dynamic landscapes of Peru. 

From extravagant natural vistas to the bustling streets filled with vibrant culture, Paddington in Peru offers plenty of visual delights. The cinematography expertly transports the viewer into the jungles of Peru. You’re not necessarily sweating in the Peruvian heat alongside Paddington, but you are definitely in one of those Disney World rides where they spray water and various smells to pretend you’re there. And, of course, the humor is as charming as ever. Paddington’s knack for both unwittingly causing chaos and saving the day never fails to elicit laughs, especially alongside Antonio Banderas (who looks as handsome as ever).

Now, let’s address the furry elephant in the room: the recasting of Mary Brown. Sally Hawkins played a beautiful Mary in the first two movies. It was sad to see her go. Emily Mortimer, who you may recognize from Aaron Sorkin’s The Newsroom, attempts to bring her own into the role. Although her portrayal brings a bright sharpness to the character that affirms she’s more complex than the stereotypical “mother of the house”, her Mary fails to land as sweet as the orange marmalade that Paddington eats. 

Paddington, for all his bear-related antics, continues to be a paragon of kindness and reminds us of the beauty in community and friendship. One of the most memorable quotes from the film reminds us that, “on your search to help others, you’ll find yourself.” Even if you find yourself in an unfamiliar land, you can still help others in both unprecedented and everyday ways: in marmalade sandwiches and simple acts of kindness.

It’s hard not to leave the theater with a sense of hope, even as the credits roll. In a world that sometimes feels upside down, Paddington brings solace and delivers powerful lessons wrapped in simple bear-sized packages. Muddling through life with a sense of optimism and a love for marmalade sandwiches isn’t the worst way to cope with the chaos around us.

So, as you drive to your local cinema, whether you’re 5 or 95, prepare for a bear-y good time. Just remember to pack your own marmalade sandwiches.