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Arts
Friday, January 16, 2015 — 5

‘Sunny’ starting 
to show its age

FXX

You don’t wanna watch it, but you will ... because of the implication.

By CHLOE GILKE

Managing Arts Editor

Watching “It’s Always Sunny 

in Philadelphia” is like com-
ing home to visit your high 
school friends. 
There’s a cer-
tain 
comfort 

in hanging out 
with the old 
gang, knowing 
the ins and outs 
of their humor 
and anticipat-
ing every beat 
and punchline. 
You sit down, 
beer in hand, 
easily 
falling 

back into the 
rhythm of your 
former self, the person who used 
to love these idiots with all your 
heart. You secretly hope for 
something beyond such a super-
ficial connection — some sign 
that they’re real, evolving peo-
ple and not just a walking year-
book photo, but they’re always, 
tragically, the same people you 
left at home. And when you visit, 
sure enough, they’re still sloppy, 
silly and juvenile. That’s not 
necessarily a bad thing, but you 
can’t help but feel a little sad for 
the gulf that’s formed between 
you and your gang.

After 10 seasons on the air, 

“It’s Always Sunny in Phila-
delphia” is finally beginning to 
show its age. The premiere epi-
sode, “The Gang Beats Boggs,” 
pulls every trick in the show’s 
arsenal, mashing the premises 
of previous episodes into a post-
modern mess. I really wanted to 
love this episode. My “Sunny” 
obsession commenced at the 
end of the ninth season and just 
before that brutal 14-month hia-
tus, so I’ve been counting down 
the days to this episode like I 
was anticipating going home.

But this episode was so disap-

pointingly formulaic that even 
I, Queen of All Things “Sunny,” 
could feel the clouds. “The Gang 
Beats Boggs” finds the Paddy’s 
crew aboard a plane to Los 
Angeles, hoping to beat baseball 
player Wade Boggs’s mythical 
mile-high drinking record. They 
tally the beers they’ve consumed 
with marks on their shirts. (To 
stretch this metaphor as far as 
it’ll go, I’ll make my own tally 
of the “Sunny” cliches that this 
episode regurgitates. One for 
“the gang plays a game and gets 
way too competitive.” Two for 
“a journey outside of Philly, fea-
turing general hijinks.”)

Dee (Kaitlin Olson, “The 

Heat”) is the drunkest from the 
outset, her beer tally already in 
the teens when she boards. She 
slurps down can after can, spi-
raling into self-destruction and 
masochism until finally ending 
up face-down on a luggage car-
ousel. Olson is a gifted physical 
comedian, but once again she’s 
relegated to being the punching 
bag of the gang. Tally number 
three: Dee is sad, drunk and dis-
gusting. We know.

“Boggs” also revisits “Sunny” 

’s favorite trope of the gang being 
terrible to innocent people (cue 
tally number four). Some per-
mutations of this can be hilari-
ous, especially when the victims 
deserve to be treated like gar-
bage. But this episode went too 
far by putting someone’s life 
in danger. The gang are sup-
posed to be guiltless sociopaths, 
but it’s just not believable that 
Frank (Danny DeVito, “Batman 
Returns”) would nearly kill a 
poor frat boy who has the stones 
to order a beer from the plane’s 
precious, limited store. After 
spiking the kid’s drink with 
a dozen sleeping pills, Frank 
impersonates a doctor and bum-
bles around the young man as he 
babbles incoherently. Tally five 
for jumping the shark, edging 

past hilarious and straight into 
cringe territory.

But the episode’s strongest 

thread is that it offers more time 
to spend with Dennis Reyn-
olds (Glenn Howerton, “Coffee 
Town”). Of all the gang, he’s the 
one who seems to have evolved 
the most from the show’s out-
set, transitioning from a typical 
confident asshole to a confident 
asshole who is also a total psy-
chopath. With his cold eyes and 
Hitchcock-villain good looks, 
Howerton knocks this plotline 
out of the park. Dennis is inscru-
table as ever as he makes an 
addendum to the beer challenge. 
He eyes a beautiful, J.Crew-clad, 
desperately sad lady and makes 
it his mission to have sex with 
her on the plane. He somehow 
figures out that she’s married 
and unattainable, and instead 
bangs some “desert trash” chick 
in the luggage compartment. 
Why? Because “Dennis is a bas-
tard man” and we’ll probably 
never crack that depraved skull 
and really grasp his sociopa-
thy. Tally six for Dennis being 
creepy and manipulative (not 
that I’m complaining).

At this point, “It’s Always 

Sunny 
in 
Philadelphia” 
has 

cemented its status as premier 
caustic, black-spirited comedy. 
The familiar elements make for 
consistently funny television, 
but at the same time, “Sunny” 
seems to have shelved innova-
tion for easy laughs. After run-
ning the gamut of sitcom tropes, 
from self-reflexive parody to 
bottle episodes to road trips, 
the show has fallen back into its 
comfy seat on the couch, content 
to sip beer and spew the same 
jokes while viewers laugh along 
automatically. “Sunny” is always 
funny, but the gang’s schtick has 
grown stale, and the show tragi-
cally runs the risk of becoming 
the TV equivalent of a flat beer.

Not Jeremy Renner’s 

Golden Globes

GENDER AND MEDIA COLUMN

I

t’s a term. A buzzphrase. A 
slogan to slap on an event 
and vaguely raise money 

towards. Women in Hollywood. 
The simple, 
invaluable 
idea that’s 
the basis for 
this column: 
women must 
be better 
represented 
both behind 
the scenes 
and in front 
of the cam-
era in the media. While hugely 
important, this concept can seem 
sterilized when addressed so 
professionally, so archly. But at 
the 2015 Golden Globe awards 
Sunday, my idol Tina Fey suc-
cinctly established the problem 
Hollywood has with gender in 
two biting sentences: 

“Steve Carell’s ‘Foxcatcher’ 

look took two hours to put on, 
including his hairstyling and 
make-up. Just for comparison, 
it took me three hours today to 
prepare for my role as human 
woman.” 

The 
Beverly 
Hills 
Hilton 

resounded with self-conscious 
laughter, and with it ushered in 
the Women’s Golden Globes. A 
show at times messy, as with Jer-
emy Renner’s bawdy comment on 
JLo’s set of “globes” (not doing 
yourself any favors Renner), but 
at it’s heart a desperately needed 
celebration of the diverse women 
in the room. This was a true testa-
ment to the women of Hollywood, 
beating and real and vividly com-
plex. 

We saw it in Julianne Moore’s 

triumphant win for “Still Alice,” 
her second nomination of the 
night. At 54, Moore sits squarely 
in the working wasteland for 
actresses, no longer a “hot young 
thing” and not yet a Meryl. Her 
success on Sunday alludes to a 
progression 
towards 
positive 

female 
characters, 
developed 

based on their personalities rath-
er than their box-office-ability.

We 
saw 
it 
with 
Patricia 

Arquette, 
Best 
Supporting 

Actress winner for “Boyhood” 
and my mother’s favorite road 
trip discussion topic — “She grew 
up in a cult!” — who did nearly 
the unspeakable for her role. She 

allowed herself to age on camera, 
letting her face soften and body 
change sans surgery or chemicals 
over the 12 years of filming, in the 
way her middle-class single moth-
er character would have. She was 
proud to do so, saying in a New 
York Times interview, “I need 
space to grow and get old and be 
a human being. I don’t want to be 
trapped in your ingénue bubble.” 
It was a rebellious move in an 
industry still controlled mostly 
by its dick, and her win serves to 
acknowledge this bravery.

We saw it too in Tina and Amy’s 

sharp joke about George Clooney’s 
Cecil B. DeMille lifetime achieve-
ment award, and later in Clooney’s 
graceful praise of his wife’s argu-
ably more significant achieve-
ments. 

We saw it in “Transparent” 

showrunner Jill Soloway’s emo-
tional testament to her own trans-
parent, and her public support of 
all trans individuals.

But no one expressed the cli-

mate for women in Hollywood bet-
ter than Maggie Gyllenhaal when 
she accepted her awardfor Best 
Actress in a Miniseries for “The 
Honorable Woman.” With her no-
nonsense pixie cut and younger 
brother (and fellow nominee) look-
ing on proudly in the audience, 
Gyllenhaal stood on that stage and 
for two minutes provided some 
desperately needed clarity. 

“When I look around the room 

at the women who are in here and I 
think about the performances that 
I’ve watched this year, what I see 
actually are women who are some-
times powerful, and sometimes 
not. Sometimes sexy, sometimes 
not. Sometimes honorable, some-
times not. And what I think is new 
is that wealth of roles for actual 
women in television and in film.” 

Finally, FINALLY someone pin-

pointing the importance of nuance 

in women’s representations, the 
value in complexity of character. 
Someone once told me that Mag-
gie Gyllenhaal is the closest thing 
I have to a celebrity doppelgänger, 
and after this speech I’m cling-
ing even harder to that very weak 
comparison. Because her words 
resonated with me (and I hope 
with the audience of that room) 
with their laid-bare honesty and 
frankness, with their inspiration 
and grace. 

These were the Women’s Gold-

en Globes, but not just of the new 
Hollywood “woman” — strong 
and slightly masculine and ball-
busting and, still, always, sexy. No, 
these were the Golden Globes of 
every type of woman and every 
expression of femininity, whether 
in the form of Amy Poehler’s goofy 
grace, Amal Alamuddin’s blazing 
intelligence or Amy Adams’s fum-
bling earnestness. 

Much of this year’s ceremony 

was forgettable, and some of 
it awkwardly offensive, from 
Renner’s comment to Margaret 
Cho’s queasy North Korean cari-
cature. (Sorry Cho, but we didn’t 
need to see that the first time, and 
certainly not the second or third.) 
But it was the Golden Globes that 
gave women a voice, a fact fright-
eningly relevant given the just-
announced Oscar nominations. 
All day Thursday my newsfeed 
was whirring in outrage towards 
the 2015 Academy Awards: no 
women 
were 
nominated 
for 

any directing or screenwrit-
ing awards, nor were there any 
people of color in any of the four 
acting categories. Even frontrun-
ners in their respective catego-
ries Ava DuVernay (“Selma”) and 
Gillian Flynn (“Gone Girl”) were 
shut out. Yes, it’s a problem. Real-
ly it’s the problem; representation 
will never ever ever be equitable 
until the people making films 
and the people giving out awards 
better represent the population. 
But this very outrage reflects the 
important self-awareness we saw 
at the Golden Globes. It’s the first 
step in a twisted 12 Steps pro-
gram for an antiquated industry; 
first you have to recognize you 
have a problem before you can 
solve it. Well, it’s clear Holly-
wood is beginning to recognize. 
I can’t wait to see what they con-
tinue to do about it.

NATALIE 
GADBOIS

These were the 
Golden Globes 
of every type of 

woman.

Generic ‘Wisdoms’ 

By CAROLYN DARR

Daily Arts Writer

In its most guarded heart of 

hearts, 
Christopher 
Scotton’s 

debut novel “The Secret Wisdom 
of the Earth” is 
about the det-
rimental 
effect 

of kept secrets 
and their ability 
to destroy those 
around 
them. 

Its protagonist, 
14-year-old 
Kevin 
Gillooly, 

learns 
about 

the 
complexi-

ties of love and 
the vastness of 
nature one fateful summer in the 
Appalachian mountains.

The novel begins with Kevin 

and his mother moving back to the 
family homestead headed by patri-
arch “Pop” in the wake of the hor-
rific death of his younger brother. 
Reduced to a husk of her former 
self, his mother is practically non-
verbal, leaving Kevin to deal with 
his perceived responsibility for the 
tragedy. 

Kevin is quickly drawn into the 

politics of Medgar, a small town in 
Kentucky. Historically a coal town, 
its veins have dried up and a new 
form of mining called mountaintop 

removal has begun. This practice 
involves completely leveling the 
once proud mountains that defined 
the town and the surrounding 
area. When one of the main pro-
testers and close friends of Kevin’s 
grandfather is brutally murdered, 
an intricate mountain of deceit and 
lies builds up and blasts apart in the 
small town. 

Through his novel, Scotton con-

fronts male love of all different 
kinds. The relationships between 
two men, two childhood friends 
and a grandson and grandfather 
are all examined, shining light on 
the many ways men depend upon 
and cherish each other. Under-
neath the main plot, Scotton also 
inspects the harsh realities of coal 
mining and its detrimental physi-
cal and economic effects on those 
who partake in it. “The Secret 
Wisdom of the Earth” gives a fic-
tional account of the real disparity 
that can be witnessed in forgot-
ten towns across the rural United 
States. A once rich enterprise, coal 
mining has progressively slowed 
down, leaving many families in its 
literal dust.

Above all else, “The Secret Wis-

dom of the Earth” implores read-
ers to cherish the natural world. 
His new friends see Kevin as a city 
boy, with no practical knowledge of 
the earth. Through the help of his 

grandfather and friend Buzzy, he 
learns to interact with and appreci-
ate the natural wonders contained 
in the mountains surrounding the 
small town. He comes to under-
stand why his grandfather will 
never sell the family land and how 
the earth can contain not just soil, 
but living memories. 

Scotton constructs beautiful 

and thoughtful prose that truly 
paints vivid pictures for readers. 
As Kevin traipses through the 
wilderness, readers can picture 
the beautiful landscape he wit-
nesses. Unfortunately, at times, 
the lengthy novel can drag and 
readers are given somewhat 
unnecessary information. While 
Kevin’s work as a veterinary 
assistant helps readers recognize 
his maturation and character 
growth, many may not be inter-
ested in the intricacies of castrat-
ing a bull. 

Additionally, though the focus 

of the novel is on secrets, many 
of these seemingly deep and 
dark mysteries are actually quite 
transparent. By halfway through 
the novel, readers can probably 
guess both the murderer and 
the ultimate ending. That being 
said, “The Secret Wisdom of the 
Earth” does what it sets out to do 
in its examination of love and loss 
in small town Kentucky.

Vance Joy’s album 
one of the year’s best

By CARLY SNIDER

Daily Arts Writer

We all know the idea of a 

soft-spoken 
songwriter 
isn’t 

exactly revolutionary. Despite 
this fact, Vance Joy still 
manages to make waves with 
his debut album Dream Your 
Life Away. That feat alone 
should earn him a spot on the 
imaginary Top 10 Albums of 
2014 list. But the worth of the 
album is much more than just 
a small but positive public 
reaction. Simple in musical 
arrangement and vocals, the 
Ed 
Sheeran-esque 
Aussie 

offers 
something 
inherently 

relatable and engaging. Joy 
jumps off the sounds and 
themes of his 2013 EP in Dream 
Your Life Away, giving listeners 
exactly what they would expect 
in the best way possible.

The force behind Joy’s debut 

comes largely from the single 
“Riptide,” which immediately 
gave listeners a clear look at his 
honest sound. The infectious 
track launched him into the 
public eye, pulling him into an 
extensive tour as he produced 
his EP, even playing a free show 
in Ann Arbor last summer. 
Coming from a place of not 
being able to show his face on 
his EP cover to playing gigs 
like Lollapalooza, the singer’s 
newfound 
confidence 
and 

identity as an artist is evident in 
his debut. Joy is now scheduled 
to open for Taylor Swift on her 

upcoming tour. (Upon hearing 
this 
news, 
I 
immediately 

cranked up 1989 even louder 
to celebrate. It was already 
playing, obviously.) 

Joy’s 
sound 
is 
nothing 

groundbreaking in terms of 
musical 
ingenuity, 
but 
its 

simplicity and warmth should 
be seen as a strength. Joy 
tackles themes of love and 
youth, without sinking into 
the trap of the cliché. His 
lyrics are straightforward – 
confronting the best, and also 
most 
uncertain, 
aspects 
of 

living. He does not shy away 
from or gloss over the not-so-
perfect parts of life. Subject 
matter ranges from separation 
to personal identity to first 
loves, all the while avoiding the 
sappy and overly sentimental 
things. Even the tone of his 
voice, full of vibrato, expresses 
a realness and vulnerability 
that helps to validate the lyrics 
without coming off as cheesy or 
insincere. 

Supporting these lyrics is 

the go-to alternative combo 
of guitar and ukulele. The 
album rises and falls, using 
these instruments to create 
both contemplative and more 
uplifting tracks. These more 
upbeat tracks, such as “Mess 
Is Mine” and “First Time,” 
are 
so 
undeniably 
catchy 

they can tempt even the most 
hardened of hearts to hum 
along. The instrumentals work 
well to compliment the vocals, 
without 
overshadowing 
or 

overcompensating, 
creating 

a very cohesive sound. While 
most songs follow the standard 
pattern of a pop song, Joy keeps 
his distance from the meat 
of the genre in his less than 
perfectly manicured sound. 

While Dream Your Life Away 

is not busting down barriers 
in 
terms 
of 
instrumental 

arrangement 
or 
stylized 

vocals, it does offer audiences 
something relatable to grasp. 
It is a great source of easy 
listening, perfect for car rides 
or hanging out with friends. As 
mushy as this may be, the album 
sounds like summer – which 
may help to warm up your now 
frigid walks to class. The most 
impressive quality of this album 
is not actually musical, but 
rather lies in the youth of Vance 
Joy’s career. Joy has made great 
strides since he started out in 
2013 and is still growing. Not 
many artists find success with a 
breakout single about their fear 
of the dentist and the dark.

Joy has made 
great strides 

since he started 

out

B-

It’s Always 
Sunny in 
Philadelphia

Season 10 
Premiere

FXX

Wednesdays 

at 10 p.m.

The Secret 
Wisdoms of 
the Earth

Christopher 
Scottan

Grand Central 

Publishing

Jan. 15. 2015

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