REVIEW: Shoebox

7:15pm • Wednesday, Oct. 18, 2023 • State Theater

Shoebox was a thought-provoking film that stood out for its deliberate and introspective approach to storytelling, coupled with cinematography that beautifully captured a city in transition. The story, which took place in Allahabad on the cusp of its renaming, followed Mampu as she watched her father struggle to maintain his deteriorating movie palace in the midst of a health crisis. The narrative drew me slowly and quietly into a world where local politics intersected tragically with personal daily struggles.

One of the standout features of Shoebox was its cinematography. The film took its time, offering long, meditative shots of a city in the midst of transformation. These visuals provided a vivid backdrop to the characters’ lives, showcasing the beauty and decay of the urban landscape. Allahabad itself became a character in the film, reflecting the societal shifts and economic challenges faced by its inhabitants. Each frame was a work of art, and the cinematographer’s mastery was evident in every scene.

For me, the most meaningful aspect of the film was its understated portrayal of Mampu’s struggles to care for her father against a backdrop of corrupt politics. The characters’ daily lives were punctuated by the effects of political decisions made far beyond their reach. The powerlessness of the family was palpable, and their attempts to navigate a system riddled with corruption were both poignant and frustrating. Mampu’s experience reflected that of many who had to choose between protesting the injustices dealt to them and protecting themselves and those they cared for.

One of the most impactful moments in the film occurred during a simple yet profound scene involving a pack of cigarettes. This moment of intimacy between Mampu and her father became a lens through which the family’s dynamics were clarified. It revealed the unspoken connections and tensions that existed within the household, adding depth to their characters and relationships. This subtlety in storytelling was another of the film’s great strengths, showcasing the actors’ ability to convey emotions without the need for grandiose displays of drama.

In conclusion, Shoebox was a mesmerizing and quietly powerful film that invited viewers to contemplate the intersection of personal and political challenges. Its deliberate pacing and exquisite cinematography created a sense of immersion in a world where beauty and decay coexisted. The film’s understated storytelling style allowed the audience to connect deeply with the characters. Shoebox was a masterclass in subtlety and a testament to the impact of quiet moments in cinema. It was a poignant exploration of the human spirit in the face of daunting challenges, leaving a lasting impression long after the credits rolled.

Review: Seoul Station

*Played at the State Theatre on October 6th and 12th*

Despite being produced in the same year and by the same director, Seoul Station (2016) is the lesser-known prequel to the famous movie Train to Busan (2016). Interestingly enough, Seoul Station is an animation whereas the latter is a live-action film. The director Yeon Sang-ho is well known for his brutal stories, and while I haven’t seen Train to Busan yet, Seoul Station certainly did an excellent job of portraying not only the brutality of a zombie apocalypse but also the social disparities between income classes, especially emphasizing the discrimination against the homeless community.

There were three main characters: Hye-Sun, her boyfriend Suk-gyu, and her father Ki-woong (in the featured image, Suk-gyu is on the left and Ki-Woong is on the right). Like a typical zombie movie, the plot revolved around survival. However, Hye-Sun and Suk-Gyu were in the lower class and that was already enough of a struggle before being further exacerbated once hell broke loose. To me, what was most interesting wasn’t their endeavors to live, but rather the humorous character dynamics and the focus on economic differences, which I felt to be the true horror highlighted by the writers. The wealthy were rarely, if not never, featured. 

In Seoul Station the color palette was very grim and muted; even the bright pink of Hye-Sun’s dress appeared gray. I enjoy watching animated films, but I haven’t seen many Korean ones. The character designs were realistic and diverse, which I felt made the animation pop due to their facial expressions. The voice acting hit differently, too, because the characters had similar voices to people I know. However, the animation itself didn’t flow as smoothly as I expected. In the beginning, it felt clunky, but I quickly adjusted and didn’t pay much attention to it afterward. My favorite part was the incredible plot twists, which were so shocking I couldn’t stop talking about it with my friends after. In fact, a majority of the audience gasped at one specific scene and the excitement rose in the theater. 

I heard from others that although it’s meant to be a prequel, the two movies are surprisingly disconnected from each other. It apparently didn’t add much to the storyline of Train to Busan and would’ve been normal to be a separate world. Since I haven’t seen Train to Busan I unfortunately can’t compare the two very well, but I’ve always wanted to watch it. I’m excited to see more of Yeon Sang-ho’s work, especially since it’s such a praised movie. If you’re looking for a funny horror movie that also implies a deeper meaning, I recommend Seoul Station! It’s a shorter movie, around an hour and a half, so it’d be a good film to engross in during a busy time like midterm season!

 

REVIEW: Aurora’s Sunrise

3:00pm • Friday, Sept. 29, 2023 • State Theater

Content warning: genocide, violence against the Armenian community

Aurora’s Sunrise, directed by Inna Sahakyan (who was in attendance for a Q&A session at Friday’s screenings), tells the unlikely story of Aurora Mardiganian, a young woman who survived the Armenian genocide of 1915-1923. In 1918, Mardiganian escaped to America and through an unlikely series of events became a silent film star, playing herself in Ravished Armenia (Auction of Souls). The silent film was produced in 1919, purportedly to raise money for Near East Relief, a charitable organization working to protect refugees in the Ottoman Empire during WWI. Through its unique combination of animation, archival footage, and interviews, Aurora’s Sunrise provides a platform for the often-erased history of the Armenian genocide, while raising important questions about ethical storytelling.

For me, exploitation and revictimization were two of the documentary’s most striking motifs. Not only did we witness the horrors Mardiganian faced as a young girl in Armenia, which included watching the murders of her entire family and being repeatedly sold into slavery, but we also saw how she was forced to relive those traumas again and again for an American audience. Filming Auction of Souls was physically grueling, and when Mardiganian broke her ankle in a fall, she was forced to continue acting on it for weeks. Not only did Mardiganian re-enact her two years in exile for the film: At every screening, she shared the details of her story with private audiences of American women, enticing them to donate to Near East Relief. At a turning point in the film, Mardiganian fainted on stage at a speaking engagement. The director of Auction of Souls (who had taken legal guardianship of the young woman) told her she had ruined the event and abandoned her at a convent. Rather than providing a platform for Mardiganian’s own voice, we saw how powerful individuals in Old Hollywood co-opted her story and controlled her personal life.

Aurora’s Sunrise exposes how the Armenian community’s trauma was commodified and minimized for the sake of Hollywood spectacle, under the guise of humanitarian awareness-raising. Mardiganian’s work to spread her story and the realities of the Armenian genocide was highly impactful, raising over 30 million dollars for humanitarian efforts in the Ottoman Empire, but at what cost? The documentary raises essential questions about the ethics of representation: Can narratives of suffering be told without perpetuating harm and revictimization?

Despite the horror and injustice of her circumstances, Mardiganian’s strength and dedication to her community shine throughout the entire documentary. In her Q&A at the end of the film, director Inna Sahakyan prefaced the discussion with the fact that over 100 years after Mardiganian’s story took place, Armenians are facing renewed ethnic cleansing by Azerbaijan. I was struck by the parallels between the director and her subject, both of whom have chosen to convey deeply painful stories to removed audiences, out of a profound commitment to their people. Sahakyan urged moviegoers on Friday to share the film with friends and family, so I am using this opportunity to encourage readers to go watch Aurora’s Sunrise, and prevent this important story from being lost.

REVIEW: Renée Fleming, soprano, with Inon Barnatan, piano

7:30pm • Thursday, Sept. 28, 2023 • Hill Auditorium

Last night’s performance was a profoundly beautiful joining of nature and human artistry. In her musical program for this recital, Renée Fleming reminded us that our natural environment is humanity’s oldest muse, and it is in danger.

Fleming, a world-renowned soprano, is a five-time Grammy award-winner as well as a recipient of the National Medal of Arts. She was accompanied by Inon Barnatan, described as “One of the most admired pianists of his generation” by the New York Times, whose week-long residency at U-M includes two more performances on October 4th and 5th. The recital included the world premiere of “Voice of Nature,” a multimedia collaboration with National Geographic based on Fleming’s most recent work, “Voice of Nature: the Anthropocene.” “Voice of Nature” collected music from Fleming’s new album as well as from artists as varied as Björk and Howard Shore (The Lord of the Rings), all accompanied by a film created by National Geographic to represent the beauty of nature and the threat posed by global climate change.

“Voice of Nature” was a deeply poignant experience for me. In the 30-minute piece, imagery depicting the diversity and ingenuity of life on Earth was accompanied by poetic ruminations on life’s transience. The songs captured how nature has served as a backdrop for human love stories throughout time and reminded us that climate change threatened both. I was struck by the end of the piece in particular, where Fleming sang “Evening” by Kevin Puts, accompanied by images of shifting Aurora Borealis interspersed with gently spiraling views of the Milky Way. The solar winds buffeting the planet from millions of miles away, set within our solar system’s grand context, made me feel very small. The lyrics spoke to the space between hope and despair: “We know we are doomed, done for, damned, and still the light reaches us, falls on our shoulders even now, even here where the moon is hidden from us, even though the stars are so far away.”

The performance left me with much to reflect on. I was inspired by the power of music to evoke feelings of hope and commitment to life on Earth, which Fleming curated so thoughtfully in this program. For me, the call to action presented in Fleming’s work and in the accompanying film also exemplifies the spirit of arts as resistance, and I look forward to experiencing more work along this theme throughout this semester.

REVIEW: M-agination Film Festival

At the M-agination annual film festival last Thursday, student filmmakers, actors, directors, producers, photographers, and composers truly impressed. M-agination, a student-run organization, allows students to spearhead their own creative projects, producing 8 short films a semester, 16 total every year, that are showcased at an annual film festival held at the Michigan Theater. For student filmmakers, it was an incredible success and a culmination of everything they have accomplished over the year. For the audience – family, friends, and just interested students – it was an amazing viewing experience. 

M-agination left no parts of the human condition untouched. There was love. There was sorrow. There was partying. There was death. There were mobsters who believe in astrology. Although you could definitely tell that the short films were being run by students, I was awed at the creativity of some of the concepts. The audience certainly was too. After every joke, there was roaring laughter; after every sad scene, hushed murmurs. And with several people leaving after every short film finished, it was clear that some people were there to support friends who had been working on this project for a whole year. 

My favorite show of the night was a hilarious and truly touching depiction of a man after a breakup. Directed by the star actor, this unfortunate soul consults a rabbi (a 19 year old rabbi) for advice on how to turn his life around. After being dumped, he had posted a nihilistic tweet online – only to get more than 100,000 views. Realizing that social media was turning him into a pessimistic, likes-obsessed person, he deleted his twitter account. Denouncing religion itself, he sets off to form a new life. For a student creator, it’s a giant achievement to create a short film that’s funny, sad, and sincere all at once. 

If I had one piece of advice for M-agination student filmmakers: don’t shoot your movies in an echoey room. If you absolutely must, turn on subtitles. Other than that, congratulations on yet another year of making movies and taking names.

PREVIEW: M-agination Film Festival

Come join M-agination student filmmakers for a night of short films at the Michigan Theater this Thursday. As a premier student organization seeking to promote up-and-coming filmmakers, M-agination produces about 16 short films every year, 8 every semester, that are presented at the end of the year at Ann Arbor theaters. This Thursday will be M-agination’s 23rd annual film festival, marking 23 years of incredible achievements in the visual arts. In addition to free admission, there will also be free swag for anyone to pick up while it lasts! This is a great opportunity to see what your peers have been working on all year. 

Where: The Michigan Theater 

When: Thursday, April 20th. Doors open at 6 pm, show starts at 7 pm 

Tickets: free!