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

As we come up on our long-yearned for Thanksgiving break, it can be hard to stay focused without occasionally giving our minds some time to rest. People are simply not meant to exist as machines that continuously churn.

Grease your gears with another great selection of film in CSEAS’s Thai Movie Night series. This time it is the intriguingly-titled How To Win At Checkers (Every Time). It tells the story of a recently orphaned young boy as his older brother and new caretaker must submit to the country’s draft lottery. The troubling  uncertainty and personal growth of the brothers raises questions about the justice of the structure of society.

The movie will be presented at 7pm on Thursday, November 21 in 1500 North Quad (the Video Viewing Room in the Language Resource Center). There is no charge for admission.

REVIEW: Flying DOWN to RIO with P.O.R.K.

The Zal Gaz Grotto Club, it seems, never disappoints.

I had a grand evening watching a Fred Astaire classic and tapping my foot to some hot jazzy tunes played by local ensemble P.O.R.K. The movie was everything you could hope for in a theatrical 1930s musical–the dancing scenes alone were enough to bring this film great fame. The choreography was excellent, each pair a carbon copy of the others in their motions and timing. Elaborate, multi-textured costumes added infinite flair, the skirts on dresses in flight with dance. The love triangle that formed the major tension in the movie was enticing, all-encompassing, and the plane choreography was superb despite the physical constraints of the dancers. I was most shocked by how well the humor works today; I am woefully untickled by most old movies, given the difference in speech patterns and slang. The whole experience was vibrant enough to pull me right into the 1930s; inexplicably, I felt the urge to light a cigarette and dance in glamorous clothes, touching foreheads and moving every which way in the wild Carioca. Everyone seems impossibly beautiful, skin so smooth and clothing so stylish and perfectly suited for each character. And, I must say, Gene Raymond is built. 

The live music portion of the evening furthered our education in America’s rich artistic past, bringing life into the antique. Had I come with a partner, I would have joined the dozen or so couples who got up to dance to the passionate music that snaked and drifted through the dimly-lit space. While the others got up to waltz and swing, I and the lady in the motorized wheelchair next to me sat and watched. She tells me that many in the band are university professors, and I’m surprised to find that they never rehearse, only playing together at gigs. Besides songs from the movie, they play a few old hits, like “Sleepy Time Down South.” All the instruments worked well together as one, though their individual solos were enjoyable. I was reminded then how mournful a dampened trumpet can sound, ripping through the air to cry directly to you.

My favorites were the ones that involved singing, as there are some great sets of pipes in the group. Bonnie channeled the exact energy of a time so long before her own, so that I could picture her in costume singing to the dancers of the Carioca. She is quite a strong alto, perfect for this style of song. Jean’s voice was soft, understanding of the mournful themes of his solos. Justin (or “America’s heartthrob,” as he was introduced) made a lovely contribution to one of the ending pieces, somewhat reminiscent of Bublé, and maybe even a touch of Sinatra. Most of all I thought of my favorite cartoon frog, George Washington. There are videos below if you’d like to compare for yourself.

They played for two hours with minimal breaks, which did seem unnecessarily long for both the audience and the dead tired band. I would suggest that in future evenings they cut a few songs from their sets, to reduce the likelihood of depleting the energy of everyone involved.

P.O.R.K. plays every first and third Sunday evening at the Grotto, so you have a chance to swing by soon. Their next performance will be December 8th.

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PREVIEW: Flying DOWN to RIO with P.O.R.K.

Sundays are all too often reserved for the results of a week of steady procrastination. Or perhaps various responsibilities have tugged you every which way and through the mud despite constant work. The end of the week turns from an intended relaxation day to a horror-filled scramble to finish everything at once. We must fight this international tragedy, by starting to save time for ourselves to self-educate in the matters of the heart and spirit.

And so I invite you to join me at the Zal Gaz Grotto Club (2070 W Stadium Blvd) at 4pm on Sunday, November 17 for an evening of old-time jazz and film. We’ll be “Flying DOWN to RIO with P.O.R.K.,” in which Phil Ogilvie’s Rhythm Kings (P.O.R.K.) will be playing all the songs from the hit 1933 musical adventure comedy Flying Down to Rio after its screening. The cover is $10.

They say 1930s dress is encouraged, though not required, but I will be deeply hurt if I’m the only one in full costume, so I had better see some other participants in there.

 

PREVIEW: Xylem’s Crazy Wisdom Open Mic

Some people look to celebrities for fashion or lifestyle inspiration, fawning over their manicured looks and multi-million dollar homes. Personally, I aspire to be half as cool as Beret Girl from An Extremely Goofy Movie.

You know her, that poet from the Bean Scene coffee shop. Definitely the ultimate cool girl, even though she’s a fictional character.

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Anyhow, if our dreams to become anything like her are to come to fruition, we need to first bust into the open mic scene.

We’re in luck: Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tearoom is hosting an open mic night Wednesday, November 28 from 7-9 PM. Bring your poems, your spoken word performance, those bars of slam poetry you’ve been waiting to give to the world. Or, you can just bring your ears and absorb the cool atmosphere, find a good book, and drink some tea. Whatever you choose, this is the place to be this Wednesday night.

REVIEW: U-M Chamber Jazz Recital

Never before had I considered the mandolin or banjo to have a place in the jazz world. And I certainly did not expect to experience a solo of either of these instruments in any context outside of a renaissance festival or a square dance competition, respectively.

Boy, was I wrong.

The performance was split into three sets, each a different student group exploring a wildly different facet of the music genre.

The first erred on the side of folk, incorporating a sound more twangy than I’d have expected from jazz musicians. But the smoothness of the violin’s bow sliding across the strings and the low voice of the cello lurking under the melody rounded out the tunes they played, making the sound much more complex and multi-dimensional. And, I must stress, Noah Fishman on mandolin and Matt Davis on banjo went hard.

The next group played in the classic big-band style of jazz, bursting into the music the second they began with grand flourishes of slurred crescendos and bright moments of staccatoed frenzy. It was hard seeing the relatedness of the first and second groups, even though they were a part of the same genre, and shared a few of the same instruments. But rather than this near-dichotomy being a distraction, it worked as a testament to jazz’s dynamicity. It was disappointing to me, as a piano player, that the pianist Kaysen Chown was barely audible amidst the brash bass tones, as the higher pitch and lightness of the instrument would have complimented the music greatly.

The last group to play featured a jazz of the sultry kind; the high call of the saxophones (Peter Goggin on alto and William Wood on tenor) was almost erotic. The songs were rambling and suave, able to warm the mind and body simultaneously. I could find myself in some underground jazz club, surrounded by the coolest cats around, dressed in all black, perhaps sporting a beret.

When I walked out of the auditorium, I still felt warm, even despite the biting wind of the mid-November night. Maybe it was the well-heated building, but more likely it was an effect of the music. I strode back to my dorm with a strange new confidence derived from the sheer sophistication of the evening. This lasted nearly the whole walk home, ending abruptly as I tripped on a crack in the sidewalk (a testament to the exclusiveness of the genre, maybe; one can fall out of its favor with a single uncool move).

All in all, a good night, thanks to this group of talented SMTD students!

REVIEW: Let The Right One In

The concept of this story is oddly unique for a vampire narrative. Just in the last decade, we’ve endured an explosion of often awful, needlessly obnoxious tales of those immortal blood suckers. Of course, there’s the Twilight saga, which infested the hearts and minds of middle schoolers everywhere (and of which came an entire parody film aptly named Vampires Suck), but we must also remember other spoofy concoctions like Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter and What We Do In the Shadows. Thus, when presented with yet another vampire-related tale, it’s hard not to shudder before stepping forward to accept it.

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I think I know what it is that makes Let The Right One In different from the rest of the recent slew of trashy vampire stories: its innocence. The main characters Oskar and Eli are children (or at least, Eli looks like a child), which restricts the themes of lust present in every other depiction of vampires in popular culture. While there is action in Eli’s killing, these scenes are distorted by the fact of her childish appearance–she cannot be taken for a fearsome murderer when we see her as a little girl. The film industry, however, loves to draw heavily on action, relying on it while allowing the actual storyline to suffer.

The Rude Mechanicals put on a great production, despite a few flaws that served as mild distractions from the play. The lighting worked wonders on the mood of the set, a ghostly blue that made the trees glow eerily, and made the playground structure dully shine. Although the soundtrack sometimes seemed like a Stranger Things ripoff, the music was still beautifully emotional, and was able to enhance the feeling of a scene. There were a few minor issues with the timing of some sound effects, as well as parts where the music overpowers dialogue or is simply distracting next to the action of the characters.

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In terms of acting, I was impressed by most of the cast. Oskar (played by Chan Yu Hin Bryan) made a quite believable 12 year old, though he could easily switch on and off a more serious tone. The bullies (Ethan Haberfield and Nathan Correll) were deliciously evil, contorting their faces into bloodthirsty smirks as they tortured little Oskar, even managing to make their voices crack in true prepubescent form.

I was disappointed to find myself feeling something lacking in Eli’s (Emma Steiner) performance. In emotional scenes with her “father,” she was amazing; the stage lights seemed to give more light to her eyes than those of anyone else in the cast. Playing a character who is a 200 year old playing a 12 year old is no easy feat, I can imagine. I could see she was taking an understandable angle: Eli was stiffly attempting to act the same age as Oskar, but did not have the social intelligence to do so properly. This angle should have worked, but at some points it only sounded false and robotic. The same goes for Oskar’s mother (Juliana Tassos). She seemed to have some trouble with acting as a character decades her senior–she simply did not have experience to draw off of, and instead came off as a caricature of a stressed, aging alcoholic. Beyond this, though, she was quite skilled at knowing how to place herself on the set, from the positioning of her limbs on the couch to a somber lean on a tree, she did a good job of becoming a sad skeleton of a woman.

I would recommend that anyone looking to delve into the wonderful world of theatre attends an upcoming performance by the Rude Mechanicals. You can access their calendar of events at their website: umrudemechanicals.com.