6A — Monday, January 12, 2015
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
‘Inherent Vice’ a
difficult head trip
Anderson is a great
director, but can’t
engage audience
By AKSHAY SETH
Daily Film Columnist
Seconds after the last Satur-
day night showing of “Inherent
Vice,” a 70-year-old man sporting
a frayed pony-
tail and what
looked like a
knitted Hawai-
ian
poncho
stared into the
trashcan. Mov-
iegoers dropped
empty cartons
of
popcorn
inside.
They
walked by. The
old man gaped, seemingly mes-
merized by its butter-smeared
bowels. In a crowded Michigan
multiplex populated mostly by
youngish college students, mostly
lamenting how they ‘“should’ve
seen the movie high,” the man
appeared out of place — an anach-
ronism lost in a ditty of time. He
looked like he listened to sea-
shells, owned beach shorts before
they were called beach shorts.
And for a few seconds, as I
stared at the old man who stared
into the trashcan, I thought
maybe I’d found an incarnation
of what Paul Thomas Anderson
spent 148 minutes (and $35 mil-
lion) constructing. An ode to a
bygone era forever doomed to
lament its own demise, to stare
into nothingness as indifferent
descendants strolled by.
Then, with a noticeable swell
of his Hawaiian poncho, a bobble
of his frayed ponytail, the old man
threw up his head. He leaned back
for a moment. I leaned in for a rev-
elation.
He throatily hawked some snot
into the can. “Well, that was a
shit-boring movie” was what he
said before disappearing into the
night.
I agreed, kind of.
During the car ride home,
when a friend made an exasper-
ated comment about the film’s
impenetrable plot — which is to
say, its unfathomably complex
clusterfuck of a story — I nodded,
but clung to a hollow doubt that
maybe the perplexity was intend-
ed. Maybe Anderson wanted half
the theater to collectively mutter
“whaaat the shit” under its breath
as credits rolled. After all, the
writing does accurately convey
the tortuous Thomas Pynchon
prose that inspired it. So maybe
the head scratching was all part of
the high? Maybe destiny intended
me to look for answers in a pon-
cho-draped geezer? Maybe?
Nah.
The film’s most obvious failing
comes in the form of its unfor-
giving storytelling. It starts and
ends with Doc Sportello (Joaquin
Phoenix, “The Master”), an eter-
nally-stoned 1960s private eye
tasked by his ex, Shasta (Kather-
ine Waterston, “Being Flynn”), to
pinpoint the whereabouts of her
current beau, the millionaire land
developer Micky Wolfman. From
there, this otherwise straightfor-
ward noir rambles through hazes
of marijuana fumes to greet Nazi
bikers, cocaine-addled dentists,
lesbian prostitutes and Owen
Wilson’s Nose in a journey that
climaxes in achieving not much
more than further muddlement.
The head trip escalates in
paranoia as Anderson and Pyn-
chon’s threadbare strands of plot
bind and intertwine themselves
around an ethereal criminal orga-
nization called The Golden Fang,
which seems to have sunk its teeth
squarely into every illegitimate pie
baking in fringe Los Angeles. Then
as the film progresses and sinks
deeper into conspiracy-laden con-
fusion, something weird happens.
The audience gives up. It set-
tles back, it reclines in cinema
hall seats, it watches as Anderson
attempts a brand of comedy inher-
ently tied to Phoenix’s mutton
chops. He’s what would happen if
Winnie the Pooh met a few pounds
of reefer — so well-intentioned,
you often wonder how he manages
to even fathom an act of wrongdo-
ing let alone confront it. An air of
optimistic puzzlement frames his
every move, and Phoenix uses the
lethargy well, drawing consistent
laughs with the smallest facial tics
awkwardness can allow.
The
whimsical
physical-
ity of that portrayal is contrasted
sharply by Josh Brolin’s (“No
Country For Old Men”) Christian
“Bigfoot” Bjornsen, renaissance
LAPD officer, lover of chocolate-
dipped bananas and hater of
all things hippie. Where Sport-
ello whispers, Bjornsen screams.
Where Phoenix toddles, Brolin
marches. Yet, there’s a weird
kinship developing between the
characters that Anderson wants
us to see. It’s emblazoned some-
where in that bygone-era ethos
evoked throughout much of the
movie, but subtler notes slip
through in the two actors’ inter-
actions. We see it when they play
off each other, when they talk.
There’s
never
any
doubt-
ing how Doc’s earnest, carefree
behavior is going to be gobbled
up by the impending ’70s, as is
Bjornsen’s squareness, but there’s
also solace in knowing the hippie
lived/smoked a life he wanted in
the time he had. The sunset feels
decidedly more cataclysmic for
his companion.
Brolin conveys a hidden vul-
nerability in his character’s oper-
atic chest-beating that rings like
a cry for help. He’s been hiding
behind the straight lace for so
long, even the drawn out, slow
scenes where we see him doing
nothing but sucking away at his
chocolate-dipped bananas feel
fraught with homoerotic under-
tones. It’s enough to warrant a
laugh, and Anderson makes sure
to offer them up every chance he
gets, though the subtext here is
gloomy at best.
The humor carries the free-
wheeling, lowbrow feel Pynchon
wrote into his novel, and often,
the punchlines are clearly better
on paper than when stretched out
on screen. But the movie doesn’t
suffer for want of steadiness —
there are enough chuckles to be
had in the utter absurdity of the
images to keep audiences watch-
ing. Confused, but watching.
The real culprit is hollowness,
an impermeable “why” you keep
asking yourself at the end of every
scene, and, ultimately, a “why”
that stretches itself across the
whole film. Anderson’s response
to that “why” would likely be
to forget it even exists: Let the
strangeness wash over you, mar-
vel at the way it seeps into the
smallest of plot devices, and only
if you get the time, lean in for the
much nastier shit growing inside
— the class warfare, the racial
tension, the hard drugs power-
ing it all forward. The stuff that’s
inevitable.
Making a film about the beach,
coursing with soft dissolves and a
cleansing sanguinity redolent of
the tides, may just be Anderson’s
way of finding some nostalgia in all
that violence. It may simply be Doc
curled down in a fetal position,
thinking about that ex who will
never really be just an ex, as a pha-
lanx of police officers steps over
him. What it’s not, well, at least not
completely, is a shit-boring movie.
B+
Inherent
Vice
Rave 20 and
Quality 16
Warner Bros.
WARNER BROS.
“Two ounces of weed, please.”
By RACHEL KERR
Daily Arts Writer
When hundreds of great songs of
all genres are released every year,
it’s no surprise that The Michigan
Daily’s “Top Songs of the Year” bal-
lots are consistently wide-ranging
and diverse, with plenty of worthy
tracks snubbed in the final annual
list. With this in mind, Daily Arts
Writer Rachel Kerr would like to
present an alternative list: her own
personal choices for 2014’s best
music.
1. “2 On” – Tinashe ft. School-
boy Q
Tinashe told ThisIsRnB that “2
on” means “when you’re like a lit-
tle too turnt up. It’s like being extra
just like whatever you’re doing.”
And Urban Dictionary tells us it
literally means to be on two differ-
ent substances — “to be drunk and
high at the same time.” Whatever
the hell it means, this undeniably
catchy song channels the univer-
sal feeling of going out and making
some regrettable — but enjoyable
— decisions. Who can’t relate?
2. “After Ur Gone” – Alex G
Alex Giannascoli, better known
as “Alex G,” is a Temple Univer-
sity student who has quietly been
uploading music to the Internet for
years now. Reminiscent of indie-
rock favorites such as Built to Spill
or the late Elliot Smith, “After Ur
Gone” succeeds by contrasting the
rocker’s fragile vocals with hectic
bits of electric guitar. The track
appears on Giannascoli’s first full-
length album DSU.
3. “Gone Down the River” –
Fletcher C. Johnson
There’s something about this
track that just feels right — it’s
both authentic and natural. “Gone
Down the River” sounds senti-
mental, but not sappy; meaning-
ful, but also fun. It’s hard not to
appreciate the infectious rhythm
of the 7-minute track as it dances
beautifully between country and
rock-n-roll.
4. “Continental Shelf” – Viet
Cong
“Continental Shelf” is the kind
of postpunk I love. It’s loud and
unsettling and makes you a bit
nervous. The clanging of the gui-
tar could be overwhelming, if not
for the hypnotizing melody car-
rying the track. It sounds very
Interpol-esque, but back when
they were young and still making
good music.
5. “Tuesday” – ILOVEMA-
KONNEN ft. Drake
As a loyal Drake fan, I first
listened to this song only for
his verse. After my first listen, I
believe I even called this song “ter-
rible.” But the song has a way of
growing on you. Makonnen’s jag-
ged, unconventional rapping style,
which I once found annoying, is
actually pretty upbeat and catchy.
You can’t help but sing along as he
sings, “Got the club goin’ up, on a
Tuesday,” no matter what day it is.
6. “Brother” – Mac DeMarco
Mac Demarco’s Salad Days was
hailed by many as one of the best
albums of 2014. With its release,
DeMarco’s already large cult fol-
lowing grew even larger. “Broth-
er” showcases everything that is
great about the album – dreamy
lyrics, lackadaisical guitar riffs
and some good advice about grow-
ing up – “you’re better off dead /
when your minds been set / from
nine until five.”
7. “Without U” – Spooky
Black
It’s hard not be intrigued by a
white kid wearing a turtleneck and
du-rag who starts uploading music
to the Internet. What’s even more
intriguing is how difficult this kid
is to define. Spooky Black is in the
same league as rising irony-tinged
rappers Yung Lean and Lil B, art-
ists whose creativity is constantly
questioned and rarely understood.
“Without U” demonstrates Black’s
surprising range as an R&B artist,
proving that he should be taken
seriously.
8. “Hella Hoes” – A$AP Mob
If you like ignorant rap, you
can’t not love this song. What’s
better than A$AP Mob standouts
Ferg and Rocky, along with their
counterparts, literally just rapping
over and over again, “I got hoes?”
Doesn’t get much better than that.
9. “Blue Suede” – Vince Sta-
ples
Beginning with its siren-like
intro, “Blue Suede” seethes
with urgency and paranoia. The
beat is loud, and Vince Staples’s
lyrics are explicit. It was the
first single from Staples’s first
official EP Hell Can Wait. The
track is best played at maxi-
mum volume, so you can’t hear
yourself attempting to rap along
as Staples aggressively tell us,
“Bitches ain’t shit but hoes and
tricks.”
10. “Off the Corner” – Meek
Mill ft. Rick Ross
I once had a friend say he’d kill a
person for this beat. Dramatic, but
a testimony to the strength of the
track (or my friend’s sanity.) But
when Rick Ross goes in, it’s hard
not to agree.
By DREW MARON
Daily Arts Writer
One of the treats of the Marvel
Cinematic Universe is the manner
in which creators have portrayed
its
intricate
design through
various settings
and
perspec-
tives. Such is the
case with Mar-
vel’s most recent
television series,
“Agent Carter.”
It’s 1946 New
York City and
Agent
Peggy
Carter (Hayley
Atwell, “Captain America: The
First Avenger”) is picking up the
pieces of her life following the
end of World War II and the loss
of Steve Rogers/Captain America
(Chris Evans, “Snowpiercer”). But
the show is more than just a “Cap-
tain America” spin-off. Creators
Christopher Markus and Stephen
McFeely (“The Life and Death of
Peter Sellers”) bring the sly politi-
cal commentary that made “Cap-
tain America: The Winter Soldier”
such a hit. The duo write a solid
pilot, albeit one that is somewhat
safe, before they give the reins over
to the more-than-capable show-
runners Tara Butters and Michele
Fazekas (“Reaper”).
Whereas “Winter Soldier” was
a paranoid political thriller and
“First Avenger” a nostalgic pulp
swashbuckler,
“Agent
Carter”
finds itself somewhere in the mid-
dle. In the pilot, inventor Howard
Stark (Dominic Cooper, “My Week
With Marilyn”) is accused of trea-
son and branded a fugitive. He
enlists the help of Carter to use her
connections with the Strategic Sci-
ence Reserve to clear his name and
bring those responsible to justice.
As Carter evades her male supe-
riors, she stumbles upon a secret
organization called “Leviathan”
which may or may not be stealing
Stark’s weapons and selling them
on the black market.
The revelation of a secret orga-
nization with an ominous name
might not be the most origi-
nal move, but it does clue comic
fans in on the potential thematic
path of the series. In the comics,
Leviathan is an organization that
stems from Stalinism in the same
way Hydra stems from Nazism.
Though it’s too early to say for cer-
tain if “Agent Carter” will be the
MCU’s take on McCarthyism, it
would make sense given Marvel’s
love of “pop with purpose.”
A lot of the heart in “Agent
Carter” is thanks to its lead, Hay-
ley Atwell. The pilot has plenty of
gunshots, punches and supernatu-
ral craziness, but it also features
Atwell’s confident and soulful
performance. If some found Peggy
in “First Avenger” as just another
beautiful
love-interest,
“Agent
Carter” smashes that notion with
a roundhouse kick to the face. She
balances action chops, wit and a
tragic sense of loss with subtlety
and charm.
Though Atwell is great, some of
the cast in the pilot feel a bit unde-
rused. Shea Whigham (“Board-
walk Empire”) is a little shallow
as Carter’s sexist supervisor — a
shame given the actor’s spectac-
ular resume. Nightclub owner
Spider Raymond (Andre Royo,
“The Wire”) was killed off early
in, which was also disappointing.
That being said, it was fascinat-
ing seeing Chad Michael Murray
(“One Tree Hill”) embrace the
sleaziness of his pretty boy image
as Agent Jack Thompson. And it’s
interesting to speculate where
the show might take Enver Gjokaj
(“Dollhouse”) as a well-meaning,
wounded war-vet and fellow agent.
While the pilot of “Agent Carter”
doesn’t reinvent the wheel, Marvel
has created an exciting action-
adventure series that announces a
brave new talent in Hayley Atwell.
The upcoming “Daredevil” series
might be Marvel’s bolder television
property, but “Agent Carter” does a
hell of a job proving that the House
of Ideas can make mainstream hits
outside the movie theater and still
attract the best talent in entertain-
ment.
‘Carter’ a promising
new take on Marvel
The alternative
Best Songs of 2014
ABC
Power suit.
TV REVIEW
B+
Agent
Carter
Series Pilot
Tuesdays
at 9 p.m.
ABC
MUSIC NOTEBOOK
FILM REVIEW