Tuesday April 4, 2006 arts. michigandaily. com artspage@michigandaily. com RTSe Atdiga 1ailu 8 . . ........... . . . ...... . . . .. . . .. .. . . ......................... The colors of love ove, I'm told, can endure all things. It's earthshaking and eternal, painful and joyous - a mystery of the heart and a many- splendored thing. But of the entire cat- alog of banal cliches our culture has prescribed to it, perhaps none is more pervasive than this: Love is blind. The movie industry might disagree; love in Hollywood is nothing if not driven by markers of external simi- larity - common features that might include, for example, age, physical attractiveness and race. Apparently cognizant of its biases, the film industry has been doing fairly well in the game of catch up to the 21st century. AM In two of those catego- ANI ries, anyway. A DP Take, for instance, that revered little fragment of pop-culture dogma that says ugly girls don't get good guys. In the wake of "Sex and the City," in which smart and capable women strut around town with men as variable and eye-catching as their shoes (and far more disposable), the elements of make-believe gender relations have taken small steps toward equality - forget reciprocity. Unattractive men with nice personalities have always been able to snag sympathetic babes. The same goes for the societal sanc- tion given to older men and younger women, though not historically vice versa ("Harold and Maude" notwith- standing). But with the rise of Diane Lane and the resurgence attempt by Sharon Stone, celluloid women have proven themselves plenty capable of exuding sex appeal at any age. Don't take this as a declaration of women's liberation. The prevailing mentalities are still problematic, but the general outlook at least gazes in the right direction. So imagine the scene: Hollywood sits congratulat- ing itself on accepting the dispari- ties in beauty and age, all the while still trying to pretend differences in race don't exist. OK, maybe that's not quite right. After all, interracial dating was a cen- terpiece of the No. 1 film at the box office this past weekend. Taking in a mind-blowing $68 million, the film featured Ray Romano (TV's "Every- body Loves Raymond") pining for the beautiful Queen Latifah ("Last Holi- day"). It was an astonishing attempt at acknowledging the love that can flour- ish between people of different racial backgrounds. It was also an animated film in which both stars played woolly. mammoths. "Ice Age: The Meltdown" wasn't afraid to showcase an interracial couple, just as long as there was no visual. "Shark Tale" also played this game, featuring Will Smith romanc- ing both Angelina Jolie and Renee Zellweger in fish form. And speaking of Smith, for an actor as easily affable and enthusiasti- cally charming, he seems to have sold himself short on the most obviously lucrative of genres for his talents: romantic comedy. Smith, in the entirety of his career, has made only one. The problem for "Hitch," as movie produc- ers saw it, was who to cast opposite the black actor. Or rather, what color to cast. Regarding the deci- sion, Smith was quoted NDA as saying, "There's sort RADE of an accepted myth that if you have two black actors, a male and a female, in the lead of a romantic comedy, that people around the world don't want to see it ... So the idea of a black actor and a white actress comes up, and that'll work around the world, but it's a problem in the U.S." The solution presented herself in Eva Mendes, a Cuban-American actress who would neither alienate white audi- ences by the implication of an all-black romance, nor offend fragile conserva- tives with a black-white pairing. Two months ago, the industry took a real stab at tackling interracial rela- tionships by inverting preconceived racial stereotypes in the romance "Something New" In overtly self- conscious style, the movie plainly admitted it wasn't a romance between two people; it was a romance between two people of different races. Even the title reads as self-congratulatory mold breaking. The irony is that Hollywood genu- inely seems to want to care. After all, they awarded the crowning laurel of this year's best picture to "Crash" over many more (technically and cinemati- cally speaking) qualified movies, pre- sumably because they found its subject matter so urgent. Of course it is. Films like "Crash" and "Something New" are important today because, in using race as a defining attribute, they bring attention and dialogue to a topic often swept under the rug of American conscious- ness. It's only lamentable that our cul- ture cherishes such a racial taboo that the very fact of a prominent interracial relationship invariably makes a film about race. Unless, perhaps, they're anthropo- morphic mammoths. - Andrade wants to play a saber-tooth tiger. E-mail her at aandrade@umich.edu. Courtesy of Miramax "Tsotsi," winner of this year's Oscar for best foreign- language film, is now piaying at the State Theater. GRIM BUT UPLIFTING 'TSOTSI' FINDS WARMTH IN TRAGEDY 01 By Andrew Bielak Daily Arts Writer Few figures are more feared and reviled within a developing industrial society than the modern, urban criminal. Eter- nally marginalized, hopelessly TsotsI destitute and morally bank- rupt, our standard notion of At the State these nameless thugs tags them - Theater as forever irredeemable for Miramax their fundamental discordance within larger societal norms. But redemption - specifically in the most tragic of circumstances - is precisely what director Gavin Hood's mod- ern adaptation of the 1961 South African novel, "Tsotsi," hopes to understand. With a strong set of performances, unapologetic sentimentality and upbeat urban vibrancy, it would certainly be hard to argue that it fails. With a nickname that literally means "thug" in Zulu, boorish teenager and small-time crimi- nal Tsotsi (newcomer Presley Chweneyagae) is alternately brooding and psychotic. While roll- ing dice or downing beers with his three cohorts in a dusty slum outside Johannesburg, he's pen- sive and calculating. Caught in an uncontrollable moment of pas- sion, the baby-faced Tsotsi turns sickeningly violent. When an intra-group conflict leaves Tsotsi flying solo for an evening, his impulsive criminality leads him to steal an expensive car and shoot its owner - only to find, minutes later, a wailing infant in the back seat. Driven by a powerfully fervent performance from Chweneyagae, Tsotsi elicits both our hor- ror and sympathy in reacting to the circum- stances before him. At the moment of his discovery, his look of shame, fear and confusion suggests a deep desire to protect the child, but his woefully misguided attempt at caring for it illuminates his fundamen- tal irresponsibility and simplicity. Perhaps his only sensible move regarding the child is to force a neighbor - and new mother herself (newcomer Terry Pheto) - to take it under her care. Although Hood doesn't directly offer an explanation for Tsotsi's sudden paternalistic impulses and the consequences of this new role on his morals, he does place particular empha- sis on our antihero's anguished upbringing to explain his current state of mind. Fleeing from a violent, temperamental father and an AIDS- afflicted mother, we learn that Tsotsi spent the majority of his youth living in a cement tube, alone and unwanted. With the gradual illustra- tion of this history, we are essentially forced into feeling a sense of empathy - acquiring an understanding of the protagonist's actions as an attempt to reclaim a lost childhood. One of the greatest strengths of "Tsotsi" is its depiction of the central characters' color- ful neighborhood, rendered in a manner that is simultaneously artful and gritty. Pulsating to thunderous South African hip hop, the cha- otic bustle between the slum's dingy tin-roofed shacks doesn't so much set the scene as it palpa- bly tells the story itself. Despite a predictably uplifting conclusion, the film is an outright triumph because the force behind its message is so powerful. That's not to say that "Tsotsi" is not a deeply sadden- ing piece of work, but for those who prefer their heartbreak stitched together with a faith in per- sonal redemption, "Tsotsi" is not simply worth seeing, but hailing. Listening to unnecessary release like 'Murder' By Matt Emery Daily Arts Writer Music REvl w . lm A When My Chemical Romance released Three Cheers for Sweet My Chemical Revenge in 2004, Romance the New Jersey quintet leapt Life on the to instant pop- Murder Scene punk stardom. Reprise Appearances on MTV, AOL Sessions and a tour with The Used solidified the band's posi- tion as a commercial angst power- house. Now, four years later, MCR returns with an album packed full of live performances and extras from their half-decade together. The problem is, no matter how many times you repackage shit, it still smells. Life on the Murder Scene is essentially a greatest-hits box set, encompassing the band's entire catalog - a whopping two albums' worth. The record is also packed with material: More than four hours I U U $50O cash bonus Special offer for college and trade school students, recent grads and graduate students May be combined with most other publicly available Ford Motor Company national incentives at the time of purchase or lease on the model you select. Limit one offer per customer. See your local Ford or Lincoln Mercury Dealer for details. Visit our Web site for official Program rules. of footage via two DVDs, which include a video diary, live concert shots, music videos, the making of the music videos and special studio sessions. Also included is a CD with live tracks from MTV performanc- es, special demos and a previously unreleased track. The disc highlights MCR's tried and true live acts as well as hit songs from their first two records. MTV favorites "Helena" and "I'm Not Okay (I Promise)" are presented live, while demos of "I Never Told You What I Do for a Living" and "Bury Me in Black" are also included. The sheer bleakness of the album is overwhelming. The DVD menu screens show more death, blood, morgues and bullets than a studio horror movie. Even the packaging creates a game to play with your friends: Guess- how many ways a wedding couple can be bloodied and stained. The video diary delves deep into the lives of the group members, chronicling the early stages of the group. It reads like a VH1 "Behind the Music," highlighting frontman Gerard Way's battle with alcohol and drugs. The band also discuss- es their unique sense of fashion, explaining how they try to go for the "dead look." They play for cam- eras while straightening their hair, blackening their eyes and creat- ing fake, bloodied wounds before shows. Look for flak jackets at your local Hot Topic soon. The diary also describes the band's divinity. Numerous fans claim that MCR has saved their lives. The bandmates also join the fun, stating that the group kept them away from depression and the hateful outside world. After all, isn't punk rock all about saving lives? The second DVD is a two-hour concoction of live performances, TV appearances, online sessions and music videos. But don't expect to find many new, groundbreaking performances. "I'm Not Okay (I Promise)" is the same song whether it's performed on Conan, on AOL or in a large concert hall. The lack of improvisation in their live shows hurts the cause even more; MCR is more robotic onstage than Tommy Lee's drum-riser. You're not OK, great, we get it. Life on the Murder Scene feels like a recap of any failing band's 20-year spiral into hell. My Chemi- cal Romance makes the journey in just four dismal years. Maybe they know their demise is ahead. Hard to believe, though, when so many more lives need to be saved. 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