What if the success or failure of your child rested on the results of a lottery? This is the question that Waiting for Superman asks you to consider as it follows the lives of several children from poor districts who hope to gain a spot in high-achieving charter schools. Of course, a child’s fate is not definitively determined by the school which he or she attends. However, as the Sundance Audience Award winner for Best Documentary points out, some schools are “drop-out factories,” while other schools consistently churn out students who attend and graduate from college. Clearly, a school can have a very real impact on the course of a child’s life. Director Davis Guggenheim makes a poignant point when he describes driving past several nearby public schools every day to drop off his children at a private school.
          I went to see Waiting for Superman a few days ago. It was playing in the Michigan Theater, a beautiful and elaborately decorated building—think mirrors and gold filigree—along East Liberty Street. I could easily imagine myself back in the 1950s (or even earlier). An organ was piping soothing music through the air, and the seats around me were nearly empty. Documentaries don’t tend to be blockbusters. In fact, I don’t usually watch documentaries, but I had heard so many good things about this one that I thought I’d make an exception. I wasn’t disappointed.
          Waiting for Superman takes a hard look at the educational system in America, turning a critical eye at the practice of tenure and the policies of teacher’s unions. On the other hand, the documentary showcases the efforts of Michelle Rhee, former chancellor of the Washington D.C. public schools, whose unpopular actions ultimately resulted in improved test scores. (Michelle Rhee resigned just last month, but you can visit her website to keep updated on what she’s up to.) The documentary also showcases successful charter schools such as Harlem Success Academy. Charter schools, it notes, are free of the regulations that constrain public schools, which are governed not only by national and state laws, but also by multiple layers of local control.
          I was surprised that the documentary didn’t mention Teach For America (TFA) at all, especially since it features Michelle Rhee, who is a former Teach For America corps member, and the Knowledge is Power Program (KIPP) schools, which were founded by two TFA alumni. Perhaps it didn’t want to open up a whole other can of worms—TFA, which is committed to closing the achievement gap, has received both extensive praise and extensive criticism.
          Critics of Waiting for Superman complain that it doesn’t fully address all the issues related to educational inequity, glossing over problems such as poor nutrition and inadequate health care—problems that plague impoverished communities and affect the performance of their students. Critics also complain that the documentary makes a silver bullet out of charter schools, even though, as the film itself acknowledges, only one in five charter schools is highly successful.
          So how thoroughly does this film investigate the problems of the educational system? It certainly doesn’t cover all the problems contributing to the US’s failing educational system (which is perhaps an impossible task anyhow), but it certainly points to several important ones, such as the lack of mechanisms for removing bad teachers. More importantly, in my opinion, it’s a film that has sparked conversation and debate about education reform, drawing attention in a touching and emotionally powerful way to one of the major social issues in America today.
For the trailer, click here.

There are not words in the English language that can adequately describe the way I feel about Gibson Fleck, an original musical written by U of M students in the department of Musical Theatre. The show made its debut last weekend in the Arthur Miller Theatre, which provided an intimate and appropriate space for the stellar show.

Gibson Fleck tells the story of a young man searching for a place to call home. Born without a family or a home, Gibson travels the country as a nomad. He prides himself in his ability to never stay in the same place for an extended period of time until he comes across a little construction site in New Haven, Connecticut. Here, Gibson finds a home he had never known before. After some time, Gibson discovers that his biological mother has past away and has left him with everything in her name. Gibson then travels to Vienna, Virginia in search for his mother’s home. While in Vienna, Gibson stays with his mother’s parents and eventually finds her diary. By reading this diary, he discovers the truth about his family and his home. Throughout this heart-wrenching story we see Gibson struggle with family, friends, love and his idea of home. We finally realize, along with Gibson, that home is not defined ‘family,’ but by people who love and care for you. We see Gibson make this realization and finally return to New Haven, the place he has come to call “home.”

Ali Gordon’s genius shines in this book, as the show features a cast of extremely well developed characters. This is one thing that impressed me so much about the show. I was so amazed that I could walk out of the show feeling like I knew the story behind each and every character. In addition to the fantastic book for Gibson Fleck, the score was equally incredible.

I am very excited to see what happens with this show. I will be very disappointed if it is not picked up. Even in its earliest stages, Gibson Fleck feels like a classic.

Arriving at the Magic Stick, I found most of the audience sitting on the floor in the middle of the venue surrounding a large spread of electronic objects, most of which were unidentifiable.  Two people, making noises into microphones seemed to be in charge, and they were also seated.  The crowd pulled on ropes and moved around the objects, modulating the dense textures of the sound.  There was a rug, something called Make A Baby.  This was Lucky Dragons.

Describing the sound of Lucky Dragons is a challenge; it would be better to listen to their Myspace.  But their live show was different than their uploads.  Gone are the gentle melodies that fade in and out of electronic nonsense, these are replaced with audience-produced layers of rhythmic elements.  In the past, I’ve found audience-participation to be poorly executed during live shows, it either comes out as patronizing or agonizing.  But Lucky Dragons have found a way to make it interesting and authentic, figuratively and literally feeding off the energy of the people in the room.

No Age took the stage with surprising rapidity, which I suppose makes sense given how simple their setup was: drums + guitar + some homie standing to the side of the stage to play pre-recorded sounds and mix their live sound.  Compared to the sound of their records, they sounded astoundingly similar, except with more energy and less fi.  You know, fi as in low fi.  This congruity between their live and recorded sound was at once reassuring – hey, they’re honest on their records – and disappointing – they’re not mega-arena-rock stars.  Not to say they weren’t good live, but they didn’t blow me away.  I’m sure that had this been my first exposure to No Age, I would have been inspired enough to buy their record, but as it was I felt merely whelmed.  Not over- or under- whelmed, just whelmed.

The heaviness of their fast-paced, short songs lent to some intense audience reactions.  The small but energetic crowd pulled off a decent mosh pit (which now that I think of it, seems to happen at just about every Magic Stick show).  I tried to get my friend to join me in jumping around and body-slamming, but he immediately got punched in the face.  Sorry, bro.  It happens.

One thing to be said for No Age, is that they seem like really nice dudes.  They counted down their last few songs, didn’t make the audience wait for the encore, then immediately after finishing went and sat on the edge of the stage to meet the fans.  Overall, a great night with great company.  Good vibes, guys, good vibes.