Category: Lifting Voices

REVIEW: Stew & The Negro Problem

Angela Lin Leave a comment

Stew’s poignant prose accompanied by Heidi’s soulful melodies create songs that encourage and make you think all at the same time. It’s not until after many listens do you fully grasp all the references within the lyrics. Notes of a Native Song is an album meant to train its listeners to analyze every situation. Songs within the album are a clarion call for activism. Stew and The Negro Problem’s performance was an illustration of how songs can shine light on social injustice and inspire a generation to take action.

Stew, feeling under the weather, started by lowering our expectations, stating that the current performance could not nearly be as good as the previous night. However, halfway through the opening song, we knew that his disclaimer was not true. Stew and The Negro Problem kicked off the performance just as their studio album does with a song titled Baldwin Country. Baldwin Country gave the audience background information about James Baldwin. Stew used the song as an appetizer to sate the audience’s initial inquiries as to what the album is about and what kind of music they were about to hear for the ensuing hour.

Stew and The Negro Problem artfully lulled the audience during Istanbul. The song acted like a palate cleanser for the ears. Istanbul was followed by the thought-provoking lyrics of Amen Corner and Proof. “Jesus ain’t no match for jazz and these police.” “When the restlessness of Jesus meets the patience of Job.” “Power is so powerful it can’t afford to pay people to speak truth to it.” “Power looking ugly, Power looking mean, but never painting power so that Power’s ever seen.” These two songs have driving melodies and powerful lyrics.

Florida, Stew jested was the only political song on the album. A song in which the band plays a laid-back Californian beat while Stew compares Florida to other states in the Union. Stew suggests that no state is better than another; each state has pros and cons. But quickly follows up with “It doesn’t matter if the weather is great if I gotta wear a bulletproof vest.” The amusing comparisons and harsh criticism of Florida, made Florida my favorite song in the performance.

I was introduced to Stew last year when SMTD performed Passing Strange. The first act is a feast full of political statements and nuggets of truth not often heard aloud. It opened my eyes to musicals that have a motive other than to entertain.

Without force feeding the audience, Stew and The Negro Problem served up a well-balanced performance—one that left me full all the while leaving me to beg for more. The insightful songs and sounds of Stew and The Negro Problem inspired me, and I am thankful they returned to the University of Michigan to once again share their mighty message of a movement.

REVIEW: Artist Spotlight: Nadim Azzam

Joseph Patrick Raney Leave a comment

Nadim Azzam and his crew put on quite a performance at the Ark’s Artist Spotlight last night. Compared to my other experiences at the Ark, I found that this genre of music fell into a more distant category from the general body of work that has been presented before. Althea Grace’s bluesy indie opening set very much felt at home amidst the audience and atmosphere that represents the most beloved elements of the Ark.

What I greatly enjoy about Nadim Azzam is a unique charisma that can be consistently felt throughout his set in the rhymes and rhythms of his music. The personality of his sound comes from the self-evaluated rebelliousness of his teen years, as Azzam says, “Most of my songs are written to myself, a lot of them are about expressing struggle and pain while still trying to be hopeful. They can be about feeling lost while trying to find a way, wanting to become a better person and living up to potential.”

A personal highlight included the presence of a tight-sounding jazzy saxophone in the mix of acoustic qualities and 1950s’-sounding ballad-like presentation. I credit Nadim Azzam for the ambition that is required for such a bold merging of hip-hop, acoustic, and jazz, but I often found the seamed mashing of genres together rather disjointed. While the melodies and striking timbre of the group produced heartfelt sounds, I was generally less than impressed in the level of sophistication present in the group’s sung lyrics. However, the flow that Nadim put forth in his rap lyrics was impressive and seemingly well-rehearsed.

While Althea Grace played the part of a successful opener for Nadim Azzam, I am hoping that she finds herself returning to the Ark as a headliner one day. Her music is light and subtle with an element of mystery that she weaves into a captivating musical narrative.

From humble beginnings, Nadim Azzam began his musical journey upon the discovery of his love for music and vocalization on a wilderness exploration trip. His smooth tone sincerely gels with the music that he aspires to make widespread, as we are seeing his rise to greater appreciation in the ears of listeners, local or otherwise. From playing at the Ann Arbor Summer Festival in 2019 to the upcoming release of his full-length album in 2020, Nadim Azzam does not show any sign of slowing down.

REVIEW: Get Out (2017)

Donald Joseph Molosky Leave a comment

For me, the name Jordan Peele will always be synonymous with clever sketch comedy. In the early stages of my adolescence, Key & Peele (2012-2015), a Comedy Central series created by Jordan and his frequent collaborator, Keegan-Michael Key, was held, amongst the likes
of South Park and Family Guy, in the highest echelon of my pantheon of teenage television. However, in 2017, Peele left behind his comfortable niche in the realm of buddy-comedy shorts and made his directorial debut with Get Out, a psychological thriller neatly wrapped in astute social commentary. The film has been met with a significant amount of positive attention from a diverse pool of critics (98% on Rotten Tomatoes), and for the past two years, I have waited eagerly to see Get Out for myself. Unfortunately, I left the State Theater a bit
disappointed.

 

From a purely cinematic perspective, Get Out falls flat on a number of fronts, but most glaringly, I found that the film was far too stylistically ambivalent. Over the course of 104 minutes, Get Out oscillates between moments of dramatic tension, over the top slasher violence, sci-fi absurdism, and yes, nostalgic, Peele-esque humor. Independent from one another, the scenes of Get Out are strong, but the way in which the greater project incorporates the footage is detrimental to the emotional gravity of the film. Additionally, the thematic elements of the film are focused mostly on the serious and relevant issue of camouflaged racial tensions between Black and White Americans, and with such a dynamic narrative structure, some of the film’s more nuanced messages are greatly obscured by the spectacle of it all. Again, Get Out was Jordan Peele’s directorial debut, and at times, the film feels like a somewhat disjointed string of shorts – eerily reflective of Key & Peele.

 

My concerns about the stylistic coherence of Get Out aside, I found that the dramatic climax of the film was set far too early in the story. The first hour of the film is fantastic, but after the second act, the previously riveting tension of the film felt, well, cheapened and manufactured, and as such, the third act of Get Out features far more moments of the stylistic inconsistency that I took issue with in the previous paragraph. From the perspective of the viewer, it almost seems as if Peele directed two entirely separate films: acts one and two of Get Out were bold, chilling, and intellectual, whereas act three felt slightly unbelievable, goofy, and rushed.

 

All things considered, Get Out is slightly above average, but the film’s narrative structure was somewhat flawed. On a positive note, I thought that the cinematographers and set designers of Get Out made exceptional use of both dark and light landscapes, props, and clothing to highlight and reinforce some of Peele’s more abstract messages. Similarly, I also thought that the audio mixing of Get Out was remarkable, as the occasional interjection of shrill, dissonant violin strokes sent my fellow moviegoers out of their seats in fear.

 

6.2/10                                     

 

 

 

 

PREVIEW: Artist Spotlight: Nadim Azzam

Joseph Patrick Raney Leave a comment

This Tuesday, November 26th, be sure to attend the Ark’s latest Artist Spotlight featuring Nadim Azzam, a 24 year-old Ann Arborite who fuses hip-hop, alt-rock, and jazz for a heartfelt and layered musical expression! Nadim is currently working on his first full-length album, which is expected in 2020. Opening for this eye-catching ensemble is singer-songwriter Althea Grace, indie blues musician.

The doors of the Ark open at 7:30, and the show starts at 8:00; while this event is free to the public, it will accept non-perishable food items to go towards Food Gatherers!

 

REVIEW: Parasite

Corrina Lee Leave a comment

It would be too easy to say that Parasite gets under your skin. That turn of phrase feels light and obvious. Parasite doesn’t just lie underneath the surface, it digs deeper. Like a crawling feeling that turns into a stabbing pain, this film begins as a superficial sensation and ends leaving an indelible impression. It shifts and transforms, becoming something else before your very eyes. Or rather, the pleasure and terror is that you don’t see the transformations occurring before they are irreversible. There is something light and obvious about Parasite. Yet, the lightness and laughter don’t detract from the film’s obvious interest in heavier topics. It is a remarkable balance that the film maintains over a spectacular two hours.

Image result for parasite movie

The members of the Kim family are used to precarious balances. Jobs in the city, when they can be found, barely pay the rent for their semi-subterranean apartment as it is. Prospects are scarce, especially for those who don’t have college degrees. The children of the family, Ki-woo and Ki-jeong, are reaching the prime of their lives, young-adulthood. Yet, it seems as if their lives have stalled exactly when they should be speeding up. Youth means nothing with the pressure of financial troubles relentlessly bearing down on them. Ki-taek (Song Kang-ho), the patriarch of the family, is similarly helpless in the face of these circumstances. Emblematic of this powerlessness, he can only watch from the window as drunkards pee on their very doorstep. These daily humiliations are to be endured by the poor, not overcome. For, it doesn’t seem to matter what the Kim family does. Their efforts are insignificant, weak battering at a system with an entrenched hierarchy of wealth. The Kim family are part of the ignored thousands. Part of those who live below others, forever ignored, forever treated as lesser. They become indistinguishable bodies to be crushed slowly under gleaming skyscrapers of the rich. Yet, in a most humiliating and ironic turn, the rich are absolutely dependent on those they would ignore completely. They need the masses to be their smiling housekeepers, their stoic chauffeurs. Every aspect of their lives is handled by dozens of faceless servants. It is this reliance that finally gives the Kim family an opportunity to climb out of poverty. Ki-Woo’s friend, Min-hyuk, asks him to become a tutor in the wealthy Park family household. When Ki-Woo protests that he doesn’t have the credentials for such a job, Min-hyuk with a lighthearted air, tells him to fake it. And it seems like a small enough lie for such a great reward. For, once Ki-Woo gets the first foot in the door, the rest of the family is eager and ready to follow into the cavernous Park compound.

Image result for parasite movie park family

At first, it seems as if the Parks with their obliviousness and piles of money, are the perfect marks for the Kims. While the Kims work in perfect unison to enact their plan, the Parks are dysfunctional and distant with each other. Yeon-gyo is a naïve housewife who invests all her extra time and care in her children. Da-hye is the envious older sister, jealous of all the attention her younger brother, Da-song receives from her parents. Even Dong-ik, the otherwise competent head of an IT company, pays only the required, cursory attention to his family. The Parks are a family because they are expected to be. The Kims are a family because none of them would survive on their own. Out of necessity, there is love. The interactions between the two families are the most intricate of the film. Each character is full of a brilliant inner life. Their history is expressed in action, not needless exposition. Their behaviors are consistent, as all well-rounded humans are, but that consistency doesn’t lead to boredom. Instead, the predictability is part of the delight of watching the film, seeing how familiar characters react to unfamiliar situations. Sometimes, these confrontations are hilarious. Sometimes, they become deadly serious. Director Bong Joon-ho varies these beats according to his own rhythm resulting in a film where the jolts form a sort of thrilling harmony.

Besides the inventive plot and characters, Parasite also benefits from a cohesive design. The Park mansion is beautifully filmed. Its design is all smooth concrete and glass expanses. It is in this space where the battle of the wills take place between the Kims and the Parks. For, in this space, it is impossible to ignore the differences in status and situation. Everything the Kims have ever strived for is here, in easy reach. In this space, it is easy to dream of the possible life where wealth falls into their lap as inevitably as it has fallen for the Parks. Ultimately though, this house, this life, belongs to other people. The house, then, becomes a symbol for all that is unattainable. All that should be theirs but isn’t. It is a cruel taunt in a film that never shies away from how arbitrary and unkind the world can be. Some people get deliriously lucky. And some get crushed.

REVIEW: CSEAS Film Screening–Thai Movie Night. How to Win at Checkers (Every Time) / ‘พี่ชาย My Hero’

Emma Pinchak Leave a comment

I used to pride myself in my cold-heartedness while watching emotional movies. While others wept over Les Mis I did not shed a single tear, and in this astonished both my peers and myself. 

These days, this old pride is abandoned totally. Now I use how much I cry as a measure of how good the movie is. So, by the Sorrow Scale, How To Win At Checkers (Every Time) was fabulous. The purity of the brothers’ relationship is tragic in the face of government corruption and rapidly-moving sadnesses. Despite how inevitable the turning of events were, I’d still catch myself hoping along with the characters. 

The bond between Oat and Ek is realistic–not too sitcom-family well-behaved, but teasing and jeering and ultimately loving. It informs the questionable decisions Ek can make concerning his kid brother, like letting him come to the club with him. They both need another, less alien parental figure than their aunt, after the death of their parents, especially Oat. Ek is not a perfect father figure, which is quite the accurate representation, as he is so young himself, and could use someone guiding him as well.

Small things held significance in this film, working with subtlety that enhanced its themes of injustice, which is similarly slyly hidden to all those not looking for it. Take the draft lottery scene; while the crowd was singing the national anthem, Jai and Junior are one of the few pointedly not participating. It’s unclear whether they do so as they contemplate their part in the bribing, or the fact that the government accepts bribes to escape the draft at all. Perhaps they feel less connected to their country as a result. But hasn’t Ek earned the right to antipatriotism? He is stuck in the nerve-frying situation of facing possible death and leaving his young brother behind. Still he sings the song of the country that has none of his interests in mind. 

 

The color palettes are similarly subtle, simple combinations of muted earth and jewel tones that drag at the feeling of bleakness the later parts of the movie hold. Even the Cafe Lovely has a limited scheme, a little monochromatic neon against dark grays and browns in its rooms. Upstairs, that sinister place, is even flatter, an apartment building hallway of beige. In such environments I can feel the barrenness of the situation, in contrast with the joyous times of childhood. We see here that evil works in a lurking way, striking without ceremony. 

And although I have mostly positive views on Checkers, there were several instances of triteness that shocked me. Worst of all was the very ending, where an adult Oat rides out into the sunset, which turns to white as he gets to the horizon. I wanted to gag at this foolishly, blindly at-peace, going into the light ending. To me, it ruined much of the unique qualities the movie did contain. Instead of Ek’s painfully unceremonious killing, I was thinking about how much this reminded me of The Ghost Whisperer. At that point, I seriously considered labeling this a feel-good movie instead of the deeper drama it tries to be. I wondered how it could be nominated for an Oscar when they couldn’t think of a less superficial way of ending it.

But what matters most is one’s overall feeling walking out of the movie. At that time I was still crying, so by my measure of choice, it was still a powerful film.

This is director Josh Kim’s first full length film. He has also made several other short films to check out: Draft Day, The Postcard, and The Police Box. This was the last Thai Movie Night of the semester, but they will be starting up again at the beginning of the year.