REVIEW: Casablanca- The Movie

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched Casablanca, but seeing it on the big screen at Kochoff Hall on February 25th felt like experiencing it for the first time. There’s something about watching a film like this with an audience—hearing the collective sighs, the quiet laughter, the weight of its most powerful moments settling over the room. No matter how familiar I am with it, Casablanca always manages to reveal something new.

Set in the early years of World War II, Casablanca follows Rick Blaine (Humphrey Bogart), an American expatriate who runs a nightclub in Vichy-controlled Morocco. Rick projects an air of detached cynicism, famously claiming, “I stick my neck out for nobody.” But beneath his indifference lies a man who has been burned by love and betrayal—someone who once believed in causes greater than himself and has since chosen to look out only for number one. To me, Rick symbolizes pre-war America, reluctant to get involved in a fight that seemed distant, but ultimately unable to avoid the pull of history.

That pull arrives in the form of Ilsa Lund (Ingrid Bergman), the woman who once shattered Rick’s heart. She walks into his bar with her husband, Victor Laszlo (Paul Henreid), a leader in the anti-Nazi resistance. Ilsa and Rick’s reunion is filled with longing and regret, but it quickly becomes clear that her presence is about more than lost love. Victor needs exit visas to continue his fight against fascism, and Rick is the only one who can help.

Ilsa has always been one of the most fascinating characters to me. She’s not just torn between two men—she’s torn between her heart and her duty. With Rick, she found passion, but with Victor, she finds purpose. What’s remarkable about Victor is that he sees Rick and Ilsa’s connection and never lets jealousy cloud his mission. He knows that the fight against tyranny matters more than his personal feelings, and he trusts Ilsa to make the right choice. That kind of maturity is rare in love triangles, and it’s one of the reasons this story feels so timeless.

In the end, Casablanca isn’t just a love story—it’s about standing for something bigger than yourself. The film builds to one of the most famous scenes in cinema history: Rick, despite having every reason to hold onto Ilsa, chooses to help her and Victor escape. He understands that their fight is more important than his happiness. “The problems of three little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world,” he tells her. It’s a heartbreaking moment, but it’s also the ultimate act of love—not just for Ilsa, but for a cause greater than either of them.

Watching Casablanca that night, I was reminded of why it remains one of the greatest films ever made. It’s not just about romance or war—it’s about resilience, sacrifice, and the choices that define us. And every time I hear “As Time Goes By,” I know I’ll keep coming back.

REVIEW: The Godfather

I watched The Godfather for the first time at Kochoff Hall in the University Center on the Dearborn campus. I went in knowing its legendary status, but I wasn’t prepared for how much it would pull me in.

More than just a crime film, The Godfather is a story about power, loyalty, and fate, explored through the journey of Michael Corleone, played by Al Pacino. At the start, Michael is an outsider to his family’s crime empire, led by his father, Vito Corleone (Marlon Brando). Unlike his brothers—hotheaded Sonny (James Caan) and the weak-willed Fredo (John Cazale)—Michael is a decorated war hero with no interest in the mafia. At his sister Connie’s (Talia Shire) wedding, he arrives in uniform, already set apart. When he tells his fiancée, Kay Adams (Diane Keaton), “That’s my family, Kay. It’s not me,” I believed him. But as the film unfolds, it becomes clear that no matter how much he wants to stay out, he can’t escape.

Michael’s turning point comes when a rival, Virgil “The Turk” Sollozzo (Al Lettieri), orchestrates an assassination attempt on Vito. When Michael visits his injured father in the hospital, realizing he’s unguarded, he takes his first step into the family business. But it’s the restaurant scene—where Michael kills Sollozzo and corrupt police captain Mark McCluskey (Sterling Hayden)—that changes everything. The tension was unbearable, and when he finally pulled the trigger, it felt like a moment of no return. From then on, he wasn’t just protecting his family—he was becoming his father’s successor.

After fleeing to Sicily and experiencing love and loss, Michael returns home to take over. Sonny has been killed, Vito is aging, and the family needs leadership. At first, it seems like he will follow his father’s code of loyalty and restraint, but by the time we reach the Baptism Scene, Michael is something else entirely. As he stands in church renouncing Satan, his men carry out brutal murders on his orders. The contrast is chilling, and it cements him as the new Godfather, willing to do whatever it takes to secure power.

The final scene, where Kay watches as Michael’s men close the door on her, was haunting. The man who once wanted nothing to do with his family’s crimes is now its most ruthless leader. Unlike Vito, who believed in loyalty, Michael’s rule is colder, more absolute.

Watching The Godfather that night, surrounded by others equally engrossed, made the experience even more powerful. It’s not just a movie about organized crime—it’s a tragedy about transformation. Michael’s descent feels both shocking and inevitable, leaving one question lingering: was he forced into this life, or was he always destined for it?

REVIEW: Look-Alike Dance Performance At Dearborn

Photo Credit: IGSAB

The Look-Alike Dance Performance, presented by IGSAB, transformed Kochoff Hall into a stage for some of the most captivating performances of the night on January 24th. This unique event challenges dancers to embody the styles and personas of iconic performers, paying tribute while adding their own artistic flair. With a lineup of around a dozen participants, each dancer was either preselected or volunteered to represent a well-known figure, ranging from Bollywood superstars to classical legends. Some performances were solo acts, while others featured duets or group numbers, creating a dynamic and diverse showcase of talent.

 

 

Photo credit: IGSAB

Rohan Mehta delivered an electrifying performance inspired by Bollywood superstar Hrithik Roshan, known for his foot-tapping numbers and effortless moves. The moment Rohan stepped on stage, he exuded confidence, and his dynamic presence instantly captured the audience’s attention. His footwork was razor-sharp, every turn executed with finesse, and his energy never wavered.

What set Rohan apart was not just his ability to replicate Hrithik’s style but his command over the stage. He didn’t just perform; he owned every beat, letting the rhythm drive his movements. His transitions between power moves and fluid sequences kept the audience engaged, and his charisma added a natural flair that made the performance all the more compelling.

However, at times, the transitions between sequences felt slightly abrupt, making certain parts of his act seem less seamless than they could have been. Despite this minor flaw, Rohan’s presence and energy made up for it, and the crowd responded with resounding applause. His ability to engage the audience and maintain his stamina throughout a demanding routine spoke volumes about his dedication to the craft.

Photo Credits: IGSAB

On the other end of the spectrum was Sana Malik, who embodied the grace and elegance of Madhuri Dixit in Dola Re Dola. As she stepped onto the stage, adorned in a flowing green and gold costume reminiscent of Devdas, a wave of excitement rippled through the audience.

Her performance was a masterclass in classical dance, marked by delicate yet powerful movements. Every footstep was placed with precision, her hand gestures flowed effortlessly, and her expressions told a story that resonated with the audience. Unlike the high-energy performances of the night, Sana’s act was all about finesse; she captivated not through speed or power but through sheer artistry and control.

While her technical execution was flawless, adding a bit more audacity—stretching her movements farther, expanding her presence on stage—could have made an already stunning performance even more powerful. Classical dance thrives not only on precision but also on projection.  Still, her mastery over the art form was undeniable, and she left the audience in awe.

Both Rohan and Sana brought something uniquely beautiful to the stage—one with raw, explosive energy and the other with poised, classical elegance. Together, they embodied the true essence of the Look-Alike Dance Performance: movement, talent, and transformation.

More than just a showcase of mimicry, the event was a celebration of dance as a performing art, blending cinematic inspiration with personal expression. As the night came to a close, the energy in the room remained high, a testament to the lasting impact of these unforgettable performances.

REVIEW: Moana 2- The Movie

As someone who loved the original Moana, I approached the sequel with high expectations—curious to see if it could capture the magic of its predecessor while offering something fresh. The Moana 2 Film Showing at Kochoff Hall provided the perfect setting to experience this much-anticipated continuation.


First off, the animation in Moana 2 was stunning. Disney’s commitment to visual excellence shines brightly, with rich, vibrant colors that brought the South Pacific setting to life even more beautifully than the first movie. The water, a central character in the original film, remains a breathtaking feature, with its fluidity and depth adding to the immersive experience. The animation team has truly outdone themselves, seamlessly blending traditional hand-drawn techniques with computer-generated imagery to give the film a dynamic and polished feel.

Image Via Disney.com


The themes of Moana 2 continue the exploration of self-discovery, courage, and the bond with one’s heritage. While these elements are still present and impactful, the story doesn’t quite reach the same emotional heights as the original. The plot introduces new challenges and characters but feels a bit more formulaic at times. The stakes, though important, don’t have the same weight that made the first film so memorable. It’s as if the film tries to recapture the magic without fully succeeding in doing so.

Image Via Disney.com.


The heart of the film lies with Moana herself, voiced once again by Auli’i Cravalho. Her growth as a leader is apparent, and Cravalho’s voice work remains as powerful as ever. However, there were moments where the supporting characters—particularly Maui—felt underused or less developed than in the first film. The dynamic between Moana and Maui is still charming, but the magic of their first encounter doesn’t fully carry over.


As for how Moana 2 fits into the larger Disney universe, it seems to follow the familiar trajectory of sequels that expand on their established world but struggle to reach the depth of the original. It’s a solid addition for fans of the first film but may leave others feeling a bit detached. While it doesn’t redefine the Disney landscape, it adds to the collection of films that continue to champion empowerment, heritage, and the spirit of adventure.

Moana 2 offers a visually stunning, albeit slightly predictable, continuation of the beloved Moana story. While it doesn’t quite match the original’s emotional impact, it still provides an enjoyable cinematic experience. For those who were drawn to the themes and the world of Moana, this sequel is worth the watch. It may not be a perfect fit in the Disney pantheon, but it’s still an enjoyable ride for fans of the first movie.

REVIEW: The Best Kept Secret: Student/Faculty/Alumni Art Exhibition

Walking through Best Kept Secret: Student/Faculty/Alumni Art Exhibition at the Stamelos Gallery, I felt that familiar rush—when art doesn’t just sit on a wall but reaches out and grabs you. Some pieces hit me immediately, demanding attention with their boldness, while others worked more quietly, drawing me in over time. What stayed with me were the ones that sparked something deeper—a sense of curiosity, nostalgia, or even discomfort. As an artist myself, I know how much intention goes into every brushstroke, every composition choice, and every texture. Seeing these works in person, I couldn’t help but think about what decisions led each artist to their final piece, how they balanced control and spontaneity, and what emotions they left embedded in the canvas.

Photo Credit: Mardigian Library

Aleesia Sciacca’s piece immediately caught my attention with its playful yet surreal composition. The smiling figure, rendered in what looks like thick, almost clay-like strokes, feels simultaneously whimsical and unsettling. There’s a childlike joy in the exaggerated, almost cartoonish elements—the floating hearts, the bright colors—but the presence of the knife, the dismembered arms, and the eerie face reflected in the table add a layer of unease. It’s a clever juxtaposition of innocence and something darker, which I admire. The textured, almost sculptural quality of the paint enhances the tactile experience, making me wish I could reach out and feel the surface. As someone who works with different media, I appreciate how Aleesia uses texture to enhance the meaning of the piece rather than just for aesthetic appeal.

Photo Credits: Mardigian Library

Paige Allen’s painting feels like a breath of fresh air—literally. It perfectly captures that quiet, contemplative moment of looking out the window on a winter day. The contrast between the lush greenery inside and the stark, snow-covered world outside is beautifully handled, both in terms of color balance and brushwork. The organic, loose strokes in the plants make them feel alive, almost growing beyond the edges of the canvas, while the background’s subdued tones keep the scene grounded. There’s a lived-in warmth to this piece, as if we’re peering into someone’s personal space. I especially appreciate the way light is handled here—subtle, diffused, natural. It’s not easy to capture the way winter light filters through a window, but Paige does it masterfully. This piece resonated with me because it feels like a moment I’ve lived—one of those in-between spaces of time where everything is still, yet full of quiet energy.

Dr. Madeline A. Berkay ’s charcoal drawing is raw and aggressive in the best way. The stark contrast, the exaggerated expressions, and the almost grotesque rendering of both figures make it impossible to look away. There’s a primal energy to it—two entities locked in an unrelenting confrontation. The creature on the left, with its snarling, exaggerated mouth, mirrors the human on the right, blurring the line between them. I find this fascinating because it challenges the idea of who (or what) is the real monster. The rough, almost frantic strokes add to the intensity, making it feel like this argument is happening in real-time. As someone who has worked in charcoal before, I admire the control Dr. Alexa has over the medium—it’s easy to let it get muddy, but she keeps the contrast sharp and intentional. This piece makes you uncomfortable, and I think that’s exactly the point.

Leaving the Best Kept Secret exhibition, I found myself replaying certain images in my mind, as if the pieces had imprinted themselves in a way I couldn’t shake. Each artwork spoke its own language—some playful, some deeply introspective, others confrontational—but all carried a distinct presence. What struck me most was the raw honesty behind them. As an artist, I understand how vulnerable it can feel to put your work out into the world, to let others interpret and dissect it. That vulnerability is what makes art powerful. This exhibition wasn’t just a display of talent; it was a glimpse into the minds of those willing to express themselves in ways that words often fail to capture. Walking out of the Stamelos Gallery, I wasn’t just inspired—I was reminded why we create in the first place.

REVIEW: Culture Night- A Journey Through Tradition

I didn’t know what to expect when I decided to attend Culture Night at Kochoff Hall. Sure, I’d read about the performances—a mix of traditions from around the world—but I was curious about how it would all come together. As someone from a different cultural background, I was eager to see how the evening would speak to me.

Photo credit: IGSA

The first act, a South Asian classical dance, immediately set a high bar. The dancer’s precise movements were mesmerizing, but what really struck me was her storytelling. Without speaking a word, she pulled the audience into a narrative that felt deeply emotional. I found myself leaning forward, completely absorbed in the graceful yet powerful choreography. It was the kind of performance that made me forget where I was for a moment.

Then came the African drumming ensemble, and the energy shifted completely. The beats were loud and unapologetically bold, reverberating through the hall. I couldn’t help but tap my foot and clap along. It wasn’t just music; it was a heartbeat that seemed to connect everyone in the room. I caught myself smiling at strangers during this performance, feeling an unspoken sense of unity.

The third act—a modern spin on European folk music—was surprising in the best way. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about blending traditional violin with electronic beats, but it was a perfect harmony of old and new. It made me think about how cultures adapt and evolve while staying true to their roots. That realization felt personal, like it was challenging me to think about my own heritage in a new light.

Photo Credits: IGSA

The evening’s final performance, a Polynesian dance, was my favorite. The dancer moved with a grace that felt effortless, their body swaying like waves. I could almost hear the ocean and feel the island breeze through their storytelling. The vibrant costumes and the way they seemed to embody the spirit of their culture left me in awe. It was peaceful yet powerful—a perfect way to close the night.

But Culture Night wasn’t just about the performances. The energy in the room made it special. People from all walks of life were there, clapping, cheering, and sharing in the experience. The decorations and the warmth of the audience added to the magic, making the hall feel like a celebration of not just cultures, but community.

When I left Kochoff Hall, I felt different. I’d come expecting a show, but what I got was a deeper sense of connection—to the performers, to the audience, and to the idea that art transcends borders. Culture Night wasn’t just entertaining; it was a reminder that no matter where we come from, we can find common ground in celebrating the beauty of our differences.