REVIEW: The Rocky Horror Picture Show

“I wish to lose all morals, and accept decadence into my heart.”

The night starts off with crowds of people in sparkles and lingerie and all black  piled up outside of the Michigan Theater, eager to begin their Rocky Horror experience. An experience that is varied and cannot be restricted by just one adjective. An experience that is energetic, erotic, campy, and…. scientific?

With an introduction from a moth, who welcomes all of the groups who are out – the straights, the gays, the sorrorities – the crowd is riled up before the film has started. Prohibited items include: ice, confetti, water guns, candles or lighters, whole rolls of toilet paper, hot dogs, and prunes. But the moth pointed out that squares of toilet paper, or streamers, or 3/4 of a roll of toilet paper, are allowed. It is only the Leather Medusa’s second year putting on a shadow cast show of RHPS at the theater, but they’re sold out.

I stand for my virgin pledge, with about half of the audience who are marked with red lipstick Vs. Surprisingly, such a prominent cult classic still remains unseen by many. Not so surprisingly, the Rocky Horror virgins of the world are curious about the film and its culture, intrigued by its ostentatious reputation and loyal followers. And tonight, our curiosity is to be fulfilled. Soon everyone stands together, for the Rocky Horror pledge and with much anti… cipation – the show begins.

Newly engaged Brad and Janet get stuck in the rain, and wander into Dr. Frank-N-Furter’s castle, where they have a long night ahead of them. The shadow cast saunters around the stage, their costumes and movements perfectly matching those of the film’s characters. The audience yells “ASSHOLE!” at Brad, “SLUT!” at Janet, “WHERE’S YOUR NECK?” at the criminologist, and a variety of other more specific, seemingly-scripted, comments. The film can barely be heard. This culture is not exactly for the prude or sensitive – although they are the ones that the culture loves to deflower the most. Similarly to the audience culture around Tommy Wiseau’s ‘The Room’, some describe this movie-going experience as wildly inconsiderate and vulgar. But the lines of accepted norms are blurred in the midst of such a cult classic, one that drew counterculture crowds as a midnight movie at its release and still draws those audiences (or those who shapeshift into such for a night) today.

Attempting to watch the film over the yelling of the crowd, I do my best to stay in-tune while actively participating. But the participation doesn’t take away from the film’s grandeur. The unusual set, defined characters, theatrical costumes and makeup, peculiar sci-fi characteristics, lively songs and dances, canted angles, effective use of various lenses, irony, and sexual notions, are enough to interest audiences even when they are unclear of the plot (which is somewhat unclear, anyway.) I’m sure all of the other virgins sometimes sat just as confused as me, but also pleasantly entertained.

Seeing Rocky Horror is a uniting experience: the audience, together, are just as important as the film. Dancing the time warp, throwing cards and pieces of toast, everyone is in tune with one another. Even the virgins. We catch on. If all goes as planned by the Transylvanians, by the end of the film you’re going to want to dance and yell and touch everyone and be covered in sequins and dramatic makeup.

REVIEW: They, Themself, and Schmerm

Like performer Becca Blackwell, it’s hard to define They, Themself, and Schmerm as a specific “type” of performance. Like a stand up comedy special, it’s funny, observational and at times, oddly insightful; but, unlike a regular gig, Blackwell’s narrative highlights scenes from their entire life, like a cohesive, revealing, well-told memoir.

Blackwell’s performance is an attempt to connect the dots in their sexual identity, both for themselves and their audience. They questioned the origins of their queerness (“I wasn’t aware I was a girl between ages 0 to 3” “What makes a man? I acted like a boy, I looked like one, the only thing I didn’t have was a penis.” ). They prodded at their impressions of binary gendered people (“before I took testosterone, men were just shades of grey, obstacles that got in the way of women”). They broke down their insecurities in public life (“I hated the men’s room- there were all these unfamiliar sounds and sights–I had to turn my feet this way and that to pretend I was peeing standing up”). And they shared their various roles in other people’s lives, like when Blackwell was cornered into a mother figure for a niece because the rest of the men “blanked out.”

Blackwell’s delivery is raw and honest. One of my favorite parts of the show was Blackwell’s use of “Blerrgghh” (while jutting out their head and wiggling their fingers) to refer to her femininity. It’s an honest portrayal of the interwoven confusion, annoyance, lust, unpredictability, and fear of the vagina and female hormones. It’s also a metaphor for the confusion that comes with figuring out who we are, who we love/lust, and why we love.

After a dive into their engaging stories, I came out with a better sense of the complexity of gender identity as well as its salience, in the form of socially awkward and even dangerous moments, for people who don’t conform to the binary standard. And it’s resonant, not only with people who are involved in the LGBTQ+ community or remotely identify themselves as such, but also with those who claim to be part of the more mainstream identities. The innocent questions that were brought up in Schmerm were definitely in my head at some point of my life, but I didn’t have enough of the curiosity nor the courage to follow it up even further. And I’m certainly not alone in this. Schmerm is a call to acknowledge, appreciate, and question without fear, the uniqueness of our own identities.

“A schmerm is a schmear of gender. It is basically the sound that people make as they try to figure my gender out.”- Blackwell in a short opening video.

PREVIEW: Violet

The University of Michigan’s School of Music, Theatre, and Dance is bringing the breathtaking musical Violet to the stage this weekend!  Violet is a beautiful story about the journey to healing for a young woman whose face was disfigured in an accident.  It’s a relatable tale of friendships, hardships, and finding beauty and hope in difficult situations.

On her journey from North Carolina to Oklahoma, Violet meets Monty and Flick, two soldiers heading to Arkansas.  Throughout the musical there are some of the most beautiful musical numbers that help tie the story together.  When Violet finally makes it to Oklahoma, she meets the preacher that she hopes will heal her disfigured face.  Will she return home healed by the preacher, or as the same person as before?

Violet will be performed at the Arthur Miller Theatre on Thursday 12/7 at 7:30pm, Friday 12/8 at 8pm, Saturday 12/9 at 2pm and 8pm, and Sunday 12/10 at 2pm.  Tickets are $20 for General Admission and $12 for Students with a valid ID.

More information can be found at: http://tickets.smtd.umich.edu/single/EventDetail.aspx?p=3355

REVIEW: Caldwell Poetry Performance

On the night of Wednesday the 29th, sixteen students affiliated with the Lloyd Hall Scholars Program (current and alumni) stepped up in front of a full crowd in Lloyd’s Barner Lounge of other LHSP students and staff to read poetry. There was a mix of nine original works with seven interpretive works of other poets, and altogether, it was a great night of poetry. Out of respect for the original works, I do not have any lines from those pieces, but will link to the interpretive pieces as available.

I (to my own surprise) started the night off with current UM professor Laura Kasischke’s “Game,” but I couldn’t objectively tell you how my performance went due to forgetting some of my memorized lines. Regardless, one of my favorite parts of the piece reads: “She shouted my name, which, even as a child I knew was not ‘Stop. Please. I’m Dying.'” Next, current LHSP student leader Rhea Cheeti recited Lily Myers’ “Shrinking Women” with a powerful voice to mimic the powerful words.

Original works interweaved nicely with interpretive works: after a few interpretive pieces, students read their own original works. One of the earlier yet highly notable original pieces was Mary Oseguera’s “They don’t call it Mexi-coke in Mexico,” a gorgeously written piece with a refrain on the speaker’s experience with the descriptor “Hispanic.” My description of her piece wouldn’t dare come close to how amazing her words and recitation were. Alyson Grigsby read a piece “pages 131-133) from Claudia Rankine’s incredible book Citizen, one of the most important works of American poetry available to the public today:

“You imagine if the man spoke to you he would say, it’s okay, I’m okay, you don’t need to sit here. You don’t need to sit and you sit and look past him into the darkness the train is moving through. A tunnel. / All the while the darkness allows you to look at him. Does he feel you looking at him? You suspect so. What does suspicion mean? What does suspicion do?”

Next, a few students read their original works and Josh Segal read Rachel McKibbens’ “Selachimorpha.” Another one of my personal favorites was Hannah Rhodenhiser’s “I Wrote You A Poem for Christmas,” a refreshing love poem. It made my heart smile, and I hope it made the rest of the audience feel just as warm. Olivia Anderson read “On the Corner of Ann and Observatory,” which had a mysterious feel to it despite the title being located where we all sat in that moment. Allison Taylor’s “Poison” was a treat for the audience – instead of just reading the poem, she sang it while playing her acoustic guitar. Her talents are real.

Dhriti Deb read “The Gaffe” by CK Williams and before Dominique Witten closed the event with an original piece titled “They are not Children,” Laura Dzubay read Katie Makkai’s “Pretty.”

The event was excellent and, as advertised, full of poetry. Original works were plentiful and strong – as were the voices of their writers. As for the students who interpreted works by other poets, I was impressed. Their voices and performative skills were impeccable, and I thoroughly enjoyed listening to everybody’s works and being in a setting devoted to the enjoyment of poetry.

Winners will be announced on April 12th, at LHSP’s End-Of-Year Festival (or more recently referred to as LHSP’S LHSP: Last Hurrah for Student Projects, coined by the performance event’s emcee, Emily Miu) held at Couzens. I’m looking forward to seeing the joy on the winners’ faces, whoever they may be!

PREVIEW: Caldwell Poetry Performance

 

The annual Caldwell Poetry Prize is back! This competition for written poetry and oral recitation of poetry by students or other poets. While the contest is open only to students and alumni of the Lloyd Hall Scholars Program, the recitation tonight is open for anybody to watch talented poets and admirers of poetry perform their work in Alice Lloyd’s Vicky Barner Lounge, 7-8pm. Past years have seen wonderful performances, and tonight’s event promises to be chock-full of talent as well. As a side note, I will be reciting as an alum in my third time participating. Light refreshments and awesome words guaranteed.

Date: Wednesday, 3/29/17 (TONIGHT!)
Time: 7-8pm
Location: Vicky Barner Lounge

PREVIEW: The Vagina Monologues

For the past five years, the group Students for Choice has put on the Vagina Monologues at U of M. In case you don’t know, the choice is a live performance of Eve Ensler’s play of the same name. As you can probably tell, vaginas will be mentioned often, and in detail.

From the event page:

TVM raises awareness about the violence against women and girls, celebrates women’s sexuality, and talks about experiences excluded from the dominant narrative.

When: Friday, March 17 and Saturday, March 18 from 8:00-10:00 PM
Where: Rackham Auditorium.
Cost: $5 in Advance and $10 at the door
All ticket proceeds go to SafeHouse Center and V-Day.

Also feel free to like and explore the UofM Vagina Monologues Page!