'Paths of Glory'
Stanley Kubrick's war epic is
playing tonight at the Michigan
Theater. Starring Kirk Douglas. 7
p.m. $6.25 for students.
michigandaily. com/arts

mLTE Sttdi

MONDAY
SEPTEMBER 24, 2001

5A


'Glitter:' A 98-minute music
video devoted to Mariah

'Fire' weaves tales of
human condition in
shifting landscapes

By Tricia Donelan
For the Daily
Pop Princess Mariah Carey's semi-autobio-
graphical film debut, "Glitter," is nothing more
than a typical movie goer would expect. It is
undoubtedly pure bub-
blegum. In fact, the viewing
experience is comparable to
chewing a piece of ABC
Glitter gum (for those of you who
are not knowledgeable of
Grade: F this timeless acronym, it
At showcase stands for Already Been
andQuality 6 Chewed), sticking it to the
sole of your shoe for a night
out, then extracting its sul-
lied goodness in the morn-
ing for another day of
chewing pleasure. Yes, it is
that horrible.
I am in angst over recov-
ering the brain cells that were destroyed during
the tedious viewing process. I hope that I still
have the mental efficiency to provide an ade-
quate synopsis of the film so as to deter even
the most extreme of Mariah Carey enthusiasts
from also risking their well-being. So here
goes...
In the first few moments of the film, the
audience is introduced to Billie Frank, (Isabel
Gomes), a young girl who is watching her
vocally inclined mother, Lillian, (Valarie Petti-
ford), perform at a local nightclub. It is evident
that Billie is a prodigy when she joins her
mother onstage for a heartfelt duet (Sigh).
In the next five minutes of the movie, a
series of life-altering events take place. Billie

and her mother race out of their apartment in
the middle of the night to watch the building
burst into flames (due to Lillian's nasty habit
of falling asleep while smoking). Billie is then
taken away by' social services and placed into
an orphanage.
These scenes pass with such rapidity that the
audience barely has time to notice that Billie's
home life is dysfunctional (Obviously, this is
because Carey's heavily endowed chest cannot
fill up the entire screen with a child playing
her character).
After the few short lived scenes dedicated to
the illustration of what is presumably a diffi-
cult childhood, Carey emerges as the adult
form of Billie Frank. She is discovered while
performing as a back-up singer and then
"ghosting" for the current up and rising talent,
Silk.
Throughout the film, Billie struggles to bal-
ance her ascendance to stardom and her per-
sonal afflictions with her past, her friends (Da
Brat and Tia Texada) and her significant
other/producer, D.J. Dice (Max Beesley), who
first breaks the ice with Billie by so cleverly
telling her that his nickname is Lucky Seven.
Get it? Dice? Lucky Seven?
And so the film continues on and Carey, as
the enormous breasted heroine, overcomes her
trials and tribulations in proper TRL form,
complete with nauseating cinematography and
glitter glitter everywhere.
It is impossible to even comment on Carey's
acting ability because of the deplorable script
and the fact that she is diligently using the
majority of the film as a promotional vehicle.
"Glitter" is quite the transition for director
Vondie Curtis-Hall, seeing as his last film,

Courtesy of Twentieth Century Fox
Mariah Carey can't save herself, this man (who
thinks he's a bad ass) or this film.
"Gridlock'd," is a member of the gritty
crime/action genre. Now the man is most likely
cursing the heavens above as he sees his career
flash before his very eyes (Obviously, the
soon-to-go platinum soundtrack is repeatedly
playing during this horrendous time of self
awareness).
All of this being said, if, for some outlandish
reason, you decide to indulge yourself in the
viewing of the most extensive and cheesy
music video of all time, I can do nothing for
you. You have ventured over to the dark side.

By Babawole Akin-Aina
For the Daily
The world is a dangerous place.
While this fact is well known to the pro-
tagonists of Sebastian Junger's "Fire," it
is also one that
middle America,
until recently, was
able to conve-
Fire niently ignore.
Sebastian Junger The world that
Junger, (the
Grade: B+ National Maga-
WW. Norton Books zine Award-win-
ning author of
"The Perfect
Storm"), depicts
is far removed.
from classes and
schedule conflicts.
The landscape
shifts seamlessly from the desert plains
of Afghanistan, to the alluvial mines of
tropical Sierra Leone into the flames of
forest fires in the American West.
People of this world are as different as
the landscapes they inhabit. Junger
introduces the reader to "hotshot crews"
and "smoke jumpers," who are firefight-
ers that parachute into forest fires with
the singular goal of isolating and defeat-
ing flames which can range from your
run-of-the-mill forest blaze to apoca-
lypse- style firestorms.
The reader also gets to meet Sierra
Leonian diamond runners. Owning a
diamond mine in a country with no
working legal system and trigger-happy
rebels is no walk in the park. Doing it
for the better part of your adult life is
absolutely crazy. Forget Richard Hatch,
these men are true survivors.
Of particular interest is Junger's pro-
file of and interaction with Afghani
Rebel Commander Ahmad Shah Mas-
ousteau's

Jordan,' Hennessy fail to ignite any
enthusiasm over M.E. crime dramas

soud. Known as the Lion of Panjshir for
his defense of the Panjshir Valley, Mas-
soud was a brilliant military strategist.
This was a man who defeated the might
of the Soviet military machine more
than once during the Soviet invasion of
Afghanistan between 1979 and 1989, so
much so that his tactics are studied in
military academies all over the world.
Massoud was the leading light of the
Northern Alliance that was involved in
the civil war against the oppressive Tal-
iban government.
Junger paints a picture of a warrior in
the strictest sense of the word. Massoud
is an ascetic leader, one who would
much rather be at home reading books
and watching his daughters grow than
fighting a drawn-out war.
It is this ability to intimately profile
and frame events and places beyond our
everyday comprehension that makes
Junger so accessible. His mixture of a
writer's prose and a journalist's eye for
detail allows him to pick the reader up
and drop them in the middle of fantastic
scenarios - be they firefights in the
Afghan desert or whaling trips in the
Caribbean. These gifts also allow him to
convey the emotions of those he comes
in contact with, as well as the signifi-
cance of the events he chronicles that
would otherwise have been lost.
A few weeks ago, one might have
read "Fire" with a complacent yawn and
a thought about how far danger is
removed from our daily existence. The
events of both this book and the past
weeks tell us otherwise. They are, how-
ever, a testament to the human spirit,
which Junger shows us exists no matter
where we live; Idaho, Afghanistan or
New York.
The message is clear: Despite the
danger, despite the carnage, despite the
tribulation, as humans, we shall survive.
alluring
es to Bag
gle, "The Last Good Day of the Year"
builds an autumnal sense of uncertainty
and change mixed with the fatalism of an
approaching winter. The tune rises slow-
ly and lingers like waves at low tide, con-
cluding with the afterthought, "Don't
know where I end and where you begin."
This kind of mood painting is always
best seen live: Singer Liam McKahey's
silky baritone was made for a dive bar or
a club. You will sigh gently, if not for
nostalgia, then for simple difference.
Cousteau is not playing for the masses,
yet they feel the "encouraging" results
from stateside audiences. Songwriter and
pianist, Davey Ray Moor, told the Daily,
"I think Americans appreciate a kind of
athleticism or craft in music." Perish any
thought of egotism; the soft-spoken
Moor is the last to dwell on the band's
grasp of moody music. "We're just big
music fans ... We want to plug the gap
in our own record collections." Isn't that
what it's all about?
For their bluesy, lounge. cat style,
Cousteau are a complete package. If you
dig this deal, strut your stuff over to the
Bag tonight and get a little swoony.

By Jennifer Fogel
' Daily Arts Editor
NBC is kicking off its fall season with a mediocre start, airing the new
medical drama "Crossing Jordan" tonight at 10 p.m. Instead of creating a
fast-paced, mystery-driven "C.S.I."-esque drama, NBC half-heartedly puts
forth a less provocative effort, barely reaching out from the mass of other
"bad" television shows.
"Crossing Jordan" stars Jill Hennessy ("Law & Order) as Dr. Jordan
Cavanaugh, an intelligent, sexy, uncensored woman of the '90s, with quite
a penchant for picking fights. However, while her anger is in need of some
management, her drive to solve crimes ca-w put the best cops to shame.
Unfortunately, her license says Medical Examiner, not Detective. Thus, Jor-
dan's obsession with catching the bad guy not only puts her career in dan-
ger, but more often than not, her life as well.
Called back to her hometown of Boston, Jordan is
eager to get back to work after a prior "misunderstand-
ing" led to her firing. Her boss, Garret Macy (Miguel
Ferrer, "Traffic") decides to offer her a second chance,
Crossing based on her exemplary work, despite her erratic,
Jordan unmanageable behavior. Jumping right back into the
NBC saddle, Jordan discovers that her "simple" case involv-
ing a Jane Doe's apparent drug overdose leads to a
Tonight at 10 p.m. cover-up for foul play involving important city offi-
cials.
The premise behind "Crossing Jordan" might have
worked had it not been for the cheesy, superimposition
of Jordan into the actual crime scene with what can
only be characterized as "hypnotic" visions. Jordan
isn't psychic, but like Ally Walker's Sam Waters on
NBC's defunct "Profiler," Jordan can see the crime and
act it out in a way that helps her set the scene and find the motivation
behind the killing. But where "Profiler" kept an appropriate distance from
the killer's actions, "Crossing Jordan" allows Jordan to actually take part in
the crime.
Helping Jordan in her pseudo-investigations is her ex-cop father, Max
(Ken Howard, "The Net"); from whom Jordan inherited her stubborn drive
and keen detective skill. Raising Jordan alone, after his wife was murdered,
Max became accustomed to bringing his work home for Jordan to assist
with. The two used to play a game of "Who do you want to be, the killer or
the victim?" - a game that continues into Jordan's adult years and precedes
the hypnotic crinlfe scene footage.
Jill Hennessy tries to flex her acting muscle as the independent and
angry Jordan, but falls short in actually giving the character any depth. It's
a good thing that the character hates to cry because Hennessy isn't very
good at believability. Hennessy proves that one should never pass up a good
thing, as she pulled what fondly is known as a "Caruso" by leaving "Law &
Order" long before her time, in order to prove that she's better than an
Emmy-winning show. Of course, her effort was in vain and now she is rele-

gated to a show that won't last longer than the viewers' attention span, and
fans of Claire Kincaid are still left with their grief.
Miguel Ferrer, a wonderful character actor, is miscast as the aging Garret
in the midst of a mid-life crisis. Ferrer is no stranger td television, daftly
playing the right hand man to Randal Flagg in "The Stand," but is relegated
to performing with a hand puppet in the pilot-due to his supposed inability
to interact with people.
In fact, all of the characters on the show are in one way or another just
added fodder for Hennessv and her story lines.
Everything about the show is ultimately contrived, piecing together the
family ties of "Providence," the zaniness, of "Chicago Hope" and the detec-
tive work of "Profiler" into one chaotic mess. (It just so happens that the
creator of "Crossing Jordan," Tim Kring, was the producer of the first two
shows just listed!) Apart each of these shows found a niche that one could
appreciate and enjoy. Unfortunately, with plenty of other more intelligent
dramas to fill our appetites for medical mysteries, it's safe to say that
"Crossing Jordan" and its strong female lead will fall along the wayside
with the rest of the incoming TV fodder. Everybody doesn't always tell a
story.
rr
Courtesy of NBC
"Crossing Jordan" cast lookin' all sexy.


music COM
By Chris Lane
Daily Arts Writer
Pardon me, but I couldn't help notic-
ing you from across this sullen, smoky'
room. Would you perhaps allow me to
few sogpbu

drape you in a
Cousteau
The Magic Bag
September 24,7 p.m.

few songs about
romance, sad-
ness, and moon-
light'?-
Does your
heart ache for
someone to croon
you off to
Casablanca?
Tonight at the
Magic Bag,
British loungers
Cousteau will try

and soothe all your romantic woes.
From the sleazy dives of London,
Cousteau is the modern answer to Burt
Bacharach. They know the pangs of
romance and lost innocence while some-
how avoiding the cheese of something
like "The Way We Were." Cousteau
makes its money by deftly creating
mood through music. Their woozy sin-



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