ARTS The Michigan Daily Tania Schrader's Hearst goes inside the SLA BY MIKE RUBIN 1974 was a pretty good year. Not to experience, actually, but a year that shimmers brightly under my not-too-exacting microscope of pop culture nostalgia. Gas prices were beginning to skyrocket, musical tastes and fashion sense were begin- ning to plummet, and Watergate left an aftertaste that not even sugar- coated breakfast cereal could chase away. However, for most of us cur- rent collegians, 1974 was a time of bell-bottoms and Big Wheels, sand- boxes and sleepers with feet, and Crayolas and cathode ray dependency, all made just a little more entertain- ing by the headline-hogging exploits of Patricia Campbell Hearst, or as I more fondly remember her, "Tania." For those seeking a quick re- fresher on the "facts" of the events, or just a march-at-gunpoint down memory lane, one need look no fur- ther than Patty Hearst , a new dramatization of the '70s most fa- mous kidnapping case by Paul (Cat People ) Schrader. Schrader's film begins right off with a burst of bul- lets as Patty, a politically unaware Cal-Berkeley undergraduate and heir to the Hearst newspaper fortunes, is plucked from her coddled and com- fortable state of bourgeois bliss while watching The Flip Wilson Show by the Symbionese Libera- tion Army, a motley group of not- quite-ready-for-prime-time revolu- tionaries c um bankrobbers who were probably the only radicals that wanted the revolution to be tele- vised, only couldn't find a camera. In choosing this project, Schrader immediately faces a difficult directo- rial problem: how do you visually present a film in which the protago- Monday, October 3, 1988 Long before Camper Van Beethoven started wr the public's imagination as well as a lot of it to right, in 1972 before her abduction and in7 nist is kept blindfolded and in a closet for 60 days? Schrader compensates effectively for this po- tentially crippling restriction by shooting the scenes of Hearst's cap- tivity in stark, expressionistic white light and harsh shadow, with the SLA members appearing as dogma- spewing silhouettes against the doorway of her closet cell. Combin- ing this stylistic cinematography with Hearst's voice-over anxieties, and hallucinatory images of Patty being buried alive, Schrader creates a tense, almost oppressive atmosphere of claustrophobia and constant fear. The issue sure to arouse the most curiosity and controversy regarding Patty Hearst is how Schrader treats the question of Hearst's complicity in the SLA's crime spree. Following two months of blindfolding and ap- parent brainwashing, Hearst is given the opportunity to be set free or join the SLA and become an "urban guerilla fighting for the people"; as history demonstrates, she chose to remain. Through the voice-over nar- ration of Hearst's rationalizations and the inclusion of a climactic (but fairly cornball) speech by Hearst de- fending her acti screenplay is base autobiography, Ev Schrader mainta stance, portraying two symbol-seek SLA, who milk h lionaire's-daughter many photo oppc publicity-hungry7 range, and the lic/mainstream me capture vilify her erything evil that '6 visited on the fam "silent majority." Despite its subj Hearst is less ap an ironic and some funny character st humor is provided of the SLA, who cc charming cartoon t dancing to their an by the Crusader quizzes to Pattyc "real" revolutionar are wimps! They symbolic bombing their first taste of poverty ("at last iting songs about her, Patty Hearst captured s money. The above photos show Hearst, left 1974 as an SLA member. ons, (the film's poor!"), or soliciting sex ("the com- d on Hearst's own radely thing to do") via the best ery Secret Thing), pick-up line I've heard in recent ins a pro-Patty memory ("Baby, we could kill lots her as a victim of of pigs together"), the members of ing forces: the the "party cell" are more hypocriti- er fame as a mil- cally hilarious than threatening, in -gone-Mao for as part due to a great comic perfor- ortunities as the mance by William (Raising Arizona radicals can ar- ) Forsythe. The acting by the general pub- principals is generally first-rate, es- dia, who upon her pecially British actor Natasha as an icon of ev- Richardson as Patty, who perfectly 60s liberalism had masks her English accent with the ily values of the West Coast dialect called "California wide-jaw." ject matter, Patty Ultimately, however, the film political film than tries to cover too much ground in times surprisingly Hearst's life and ends up not cover- udy. Much of the ing enough, having to whip through by the members the details of her capture and trial and ome off as nearly- ignoring completely her re-transfor- errorists. Whether mation back from "urban guerilla" to them (a jazz song housewife and trivia question. Once s), giving pop- the SLA disappears from Patty on the duties of Hearst the film begins to lose ies ("Weathermen steam, and the low-budget acting only carry out (the film was made for under $4 gs!"), rejoicing at million) during the already-thin real proletarian courtroom segments undermines t, we're finally those portions of the film. Despite its flaws, however, Patty Hearst 's supermarket tabloid, made-for-mid- night-t.v. subject matter makes for worthwhile matinee viewing. PATTY HEARST is playing at the State Theater. Do YO the 0- ill e- Ost Enthus If so Mi - Gain valuable - Speak with the - Build your reSL - Flexible, even Page 8 Feelies Only Lfe A & M/ Twin-Tone Listening to old blues and country records is not one of the most sociable things a person can do. The desperation and pathos of the haunting, piercing cries of people like Robert Johnson and Hank Williams are scary, like callings from the other side of life that you're not quite ready to see. Nonetheless, they are real and true and that is whyI listen. When I listen to this music in times of despair, just sitting in my room, staring at the walls, wallowing in misanthropic self-pity until I'm so numb and tired I don't give a fuck about anyone or anything, I'm pretty much as far down as I can go. To go any further, to sink deeper into hate and lust-filled rage, would be suicide. What I need at this point is something to believe in, or at least something that sounds worth leading a quasi-normal life for. Between the despair of the blues and the fury of punk lies an important, intermediate range of music. For me, the softer, grander songs by the Velvet Underground are this missing link (See also Big Star, Pere Ubu, and the Mekons). Songs like "I'll Be Your Mirror," "What Goes On," "Pale Blue Eyes," "I'm Set Free," and "Ocean" all have a feeling of longing that is not ultimately tragic. It's redemptive and life-affirming in a straightforward and unpretentious way. What all this doomed romanticism has to do with the Feelies is really very simple. More so than any other band I know of, the Feelies have appropriated the Velvet Underground's delicate mastery of songs that are emotionally affecting, beautiful, and still have that sonic grumph. Like The Feelies , and The Good Earth before it, Only Life, is a gorgeous record filled to the grooves with trepidation, optimism, bewilderment, and more. The aural textures of the guitars and voices ebb and flow and combine to create a sonic force that is both exhilaratingly familiar and mysterious. That is, each time I listen to the record, it sounds just right but I also notice many different things. One time it's the plaintive, impassioned singing; the next, it's the piercing guitars; and the next, it's the simple, unfaltering rhythm. I haven't listened to this record enough (only about 35 times) to haye completely internalized it so that I KNOW what it's about. I can only sgy that Only Life is a great record that makes me feel good when few other things can. And for that I'm grateful. --BrianBerger Redlorry Yellowlorry Nothing Wrong Beggar's Banquet/RCA No image better describes the enchanted music of this album than the back cover picture of three people dancing around the yellow flames of a blazing fire. The band's hypnotic spell transports the listener into a world of demons who chant and spellbind the participant into a colorful state of gloomy mayhem. This album is not for people who buy their records at K-Mart; not ore song on Nothing Wrong even approaches Top 40. The psychedelic mixture of guitar feedback and synthesized distortion hurl the listener down into the lower rings of Nectarine Ballroom hell. The average length of each song is about three minutes, so there is none of the self-indulget boredom that accompanies the average "new wave" record. The lyrics are abstract and concise enough to knock Emily Dickinson out of her upstairs bedroom. One listening does not allow the record buyer to appreciate the minor details which direct the overall effect of the album. Although Nothing Wrong lacks any:conventional guitar solo* there is enough rhythmic feedback to remind the listener that the electri% guitar is still the most powerful musical instrument ever invented. Although listening to Nothing Wrong may leave you feeling like you've wandered into someone's nightmare, it should keep your full attention for a minimum of 38 minutes. This is the type of music they used to play before sets at a Husker Du concert. I recommend this albt to anyone who is under the false impression that the current state of rool and roll is banal; Redlorry Yellowlorry will enlighten you. -Ken Kocila U Have What It Takes? asm?. 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Case closed. 7? ;1 .__