The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
the b-side
Thursday, October 15, 2015 — 3B
By HAILEY MIDDLEBROOK
Daily Health Columnist
Last Sunday, I woke up at 4:45
a.m. to run a half-marathon. It
was pitch black outside when my
friend Jill, my sister and I loaded
the car, packing running shoes and
homework for after the race. We
shivered awake in the cold wind,
clamping our hands around coffee
cups. We tried not to think about
our lack of sleep, accumulated over
a week of exams and deadlines.
Three hours later, the pale sun
just peeking over Grand Traverse
Bay in Traverse City, Mich., Jill
and I stood on the starting line of
the Devil’s Dive Half Marathon.
The race was an out-and-back
course: six and a half miles out on
a rolling (i.e. very hilly) peninsula,
past
vineyards
and
famous
Traverse City cherry trees, then
back to finish. We straightened our
race bibs on our matching singlets,
hers yellow and mine pink —
planned ahead of time, of course,
during our early-morning runs in
Ann Arbor — and tightened our
laces, popped rigid hip flexors.
The race staff shuffled around
in Halloween costumes, googly-
eyed Minions and washed-out
angels, arranging platters of
caramel apples and cider for the
post-race party. Yet there was
still a nervous energy in the air.
Jill and I had agreed not to stress
about our finishing time — a hard
promise, since we were both
raised on cross country and track
— but the glowing red clock at
the starting line challenged us.
It held expectations. The race
director finally emerged, dressed
in a full devil’s costume, to shoot
the starting gun like an athletic
exam proctor.
We readied our timers, turned
the page and began.
At mile nine, we saw her: the
candy corn-muncher. I’d spotted
her earlier, during the National
Anthem, dressed in a floor-length
hot dog costume, shoving bags of
candy corn and Hershey’s kisses
in her sports bra. I had burst out
laughing, figuring she was part of
the staff rather than a runner. But
here she came, a human hot dog
with a fistful of candy corn in each
hand, nearly half-way through a
half marathon.
“Way to go, girls!” the candy
corn-muncher shouted, pumping
the air with her candy fist.
That’s when I realized that I
might take things too seriously.
For every competitive runner,
there was a candy corn-muncher.
We
would
both
accomplish
the same feat, whether we ran
consistently at a pace of six
minutes, 45 seconds per mile
or stopped at mile five to snack
on chocolate. Was one way
really better than the other?
As we slugged up the final,
mountainous hill, aptly named
“Eternal Punishment” on the
race posters, I wondered: Were
we doing it wrong?
Challenging ourselves is a
good thing. We knew this as kids,
when we took on the 100 Book
Challenge in elementary school
(what were we thinking?) and
as University students, when
we ambitiously registered for 18
credits and joined the Triathlon
Club. There’s glory in hard work
and testing our limits, in holding
the title of “Leaders and Best”
that the University preaches.
The
upside
of
challenging
ourselves is recognition: placing
in the top three of the race, scoring
an internship with Apple. The
downside? Unhealthy — and often
unnecessary — levels of stress.
It’s hard to escape pressure to
succeed as a college student, when
midterms coincide with last week’s
Fall Career Fair and essays are due
the day after your half-marathon
(or dance recital, fundraising
event, family wedding, etc.). Multi-
tasking becomes a whole new
monster as you recite your elevator
pitch to yourself while running up
the Arb hill and “tailgate” on your
way to the law library on football
Saturdays. And here’s the worst
part: you feel better about pushing
yourself instead of taking a break,
HEALTH COLUMN
Candy corn and
other stress busters
By KATHLEEN DAVIS
Senior Arts Editor
In
December
of
2012,
a
University-backed video went viral
among the alumni community,
student
body
and
Michigan
admirers. The short video, a little
over one minute and 30 seconds
long, was made to celebrate the
incoming class of 2016, using a
single letter to symbolize the
excitement, pride and joy of the
Michigan experience: “The Letter
M.” I saw it, you saw it, and your
uncle who didn’t even go here
saw it. The first time I watched
the video, I was torn between
two universities and was leaning
a little more toward the other, but
I remember the emotional power
of the video was so strong that it
helped tip me the other way.
“The Letter M,” along with
other iconic University films, like
the Billy Magic transportation
musical
shown
at
freshman
orientation, is the product of
Filmic
productions,
an
elite
student-run film club with strong
ties to the administration. Flash
forward a few years, and the three
founders of Filmic — Josh Buoy,
Roddy Hyduk and Chris Duncan
— are still working together in
Ann Arbor, making films for their
burgeoning production company,
Snowday Productions.
The three met as underclassmen
in SAC 290: Introduction to Media
Production, but enjoyed working
together so much they decided to
keep collaborating in classes, and
eventually created Filmic.
The student organization didn’t
start with the intention to make
commercial
work,
but
rather
provide a platform for personal
projects the group wanted to make.
However, the professional quality
of the work eventually caught the
attention of the University, which
hired Filmic to make around a
couple dozen short films for them
over the course of their remaining
time as students. This period of
time was crucial to Snowday’s
current success.
“If we were just starting this
business now and hadn’t had the
experience on Filmic, this path
would be so much harder,” Duncan
said. “But since we’ve done Filmic,
we were able to develop this
chemistry, able to learn how to
interact with clients and learn
what kind of processes work best
with different clients.”
“The University was a three-
year incubator for us,” Buoy added.
“We were able to be a startup
without officially being a start-up,
which allowed us to feel really
confident about doing this right
after graduation.”
After
graduation,
the
trio
actually split ways for some time
— Duncan took a copywriting job
in Philadelphia, Hyduk was in
New York City working for NYU,
and Buoy stayed in Ann Arbor to
work on a feature film. It didn’t
take too long for them to realize
something was off about their
post-college endeavors.
“We realized that we weren’t
doing as good of work individually
as we do together,” Buoy said.
This led to conversations about
founding
a
start-up,
which
became Snowday.
Transitioning
from
making
films as part of a club within the
college experience to making them
as a full-time job hasn’t been much
of a change for the group.
“In some ways, I’d say there’s
a lot less stress, because my mind
isn’t being pulled between school,
other extracurriculars and also
filmmaking, so it’s nice to be able
to say, ‘This is what I do full time,’
and you’re not stressed to get a film
done and a paper done,” Duncan
said. “But there’s also more stress
in that if something didn’t work
in Filmic, our livelihoods didn’t
depend on it.”
Doing the best work possible is
a mentality that carried through
from Filmic to Snowday. Since
the company is so small, with
the men being the only full time
employees amid a handful of
contractors, all three founders
are involved in nearly every
aspect of production. Snowday
believes their small size is a major
strength to the quality of their
work. Instead of having an idea
for a commercial run through
many levels of an agency and go
through many hands, the trio
works with the company in every
step of the process, creating a
very hands-on experience for
all involved and making each
project personal.
“It allows you to form a really
strong
relationship
with
the
clients, it’s more than ‘We just
want to shoot a video for you,’
” Buoy said. “We want to know
why you do this, and why your
customers act this way, and what
causes you to wake up in the
morning. We want to know these
things, because it allows us to
make a really cool project, and
form really solid relationships that
last beyond a small shoot.”
Since its creation, Snowday
has
made
advertisements
for
Sisu
Mouthguards,
University
of Michigan Health System and
Trerice (an auto-part company),
just to name a few. While the
objects
they’re
selling
seem
innocuous, each clip feels personal,
aesthetically driven and emotive.
Even if Snowday leaves Ann
Arbor some day, they hope to
always maintain the special
relationship they have with the
University.
“I feel confident that there’s no
other university or institution that
could have prepared us in such a
unique way as the University of
Michigan,” Buoy said. “It led us
to have this incredible hands-on
experience that’s kind of insane
with what we were trusted to do
as students. We knew when we
started Snowday that we needed to
come back to Ann Arbor, because
there’s already a relationship there
and opportunities for work, and
we want to retain this relationship
for the rest of our lives.”
ARTISTS
PROFILE
IN
VIRGINIA LOZANO/Daily
Snowday Production director and co-founder Chris Duncan films a bonfire scene.
even if you really need one. We look
down at tailgaters and candy corn-
munchers because success doesn’t
come from having fun. Right?
Thankfully,
no.
The
University’s
Counseling
and
Psychological Services (CAPS)
endorses
the
“Importance
of
Play” for students, writing on
their website: “We get stuck in
our heads thinking about all of the
things that we have to do. Balance
is achieved when we engage in
things we WANT to do, not just
things that we HAVE to do.” The
reward of challenging ourselves —
academically, athletically, socially,
professionally — is counteracted
if we don’t let ourselves breathe.
What’s the point of climbing the
mountain if you can’t appreciate
the view at the top?
In our early 20s, we are the
fittest that we’ll ever be. Our
brains and bodies have endless
muscle memory, enabling us to
rebound from marathon study
sessions and workouts stronger
and
more
knowledgeable
than before. But our fitness
doesn’t excuse us from abusing
our
minds
and
bodies
by
putting them under constant,
unnecessary stress.
To manage stress, you first
have to accept that you can’t be
the leader and best in everything
you do. Frankly, it’s impossible.
Instead, pick one or two things
that are most important, like
acing a biology midterm or beat-
ing a half-marathon time, then
focus on reaching those goals.
That way, you’ll leave room for
your mind to breathe and have
time to play — the true marks of
a healthy, successful life.
And while you’re at it, eat some
candy corn. I’ve heard it makes
great racing fuel.
Middlebrook is still waking
up earlier than you. To ask her
what is wrong with you, email
hailharp@umich.edu.
EPISODE REVIEW
“Dead Man Walking,”
this week’s episode of “The
Last Man on Earth,” follows
Phil (Will
Forte, “Sat-
urday Night
Live”) and
Carol (Kris-
ten Schaal,
“Bob’s Burg-
ers”) as
they finally
reunite with
the support-
ing cast from
the first
season. Carol
pretends Phil
is dead, plan-
ning to reveal the truth once
the others learn to forgive
his past transgressions and
mourn him.
Last season’s biggest flaw
was that the show spent
too much time focusing on
Phil’s cartoonishly dickish
behavior instead of develop-
ing side characters like Gail
(Mary Steenburgen, “Orange
is the New Black”) and Erica
(Cleopatra Coleman, “Neigh-
bours”). In most ways, the
show is best suited to focus-
ing on just one or two char-
acters — and most of its best
episodes, like this season’s
premiere, have steered away
from sitcom-esque hijinks
with a big cast of characters.
It’s slightly frustrating to
once again veer away from
the melancholic vibe of a two-
character show to reintroduce
banal characters like Melissa
(January Jones, “Mad Men”),
especially this early in the
season.
That said, this season has
made up for Phil’s question-
able characterization last
year, giving the audience
more reasons to empathize
with him without taking
away most of his core traits.
He hilariously combines
his old tendencies with new
kindness in “Dead Man Walk-
ing,” holding a gun to the
others’ heads to force them to
listen to his sincere apology.
If the show continues this
focus on characterization, the
sitcom vibe might not feel so
wasteful anymore.
-BENJAMIN ROSENSTOCK
FOX
B+
The Last
Man on
Earth
Season 2,
Ep. 3
Sundays at
9:30 p.m.
FOX
The upside of
challenging
ourselves is
recognition.
The group received a break
a few minutes later and Lauren
came back over to talk to me.
Moments later, Joey Richter, 2011
Music, Theatre & Dance alum, and
Dylan Saunders, 2009 Music, The-
atre & Dance alum, joined her and
I was suddenly talking to a group
of StarKids.
The Michigan Daily: So I asked
Lauren already, but what made
you guys decide to come back and
do this reunion concert?
Joey Richter: Well …
Dylan Saunders: Because
they asked us to.
Joey: Yeah.
Dylan: Yeah.
Joey: It was kind of like a
resounding …
Dylan: No duh.
Joey: Yeah. That happened a
couple years ago when there was
like the third Potter thing. When
they were like, “Does everyone
want to come back and do this
together?” and we were like,
“Yeah, absolutely.” And I think
that a lot of it has to do with being
able to be back here, too, because
there’s a lot of us who haven’t
gotten the chance to spend time
with each other a lot over the past
couple years, but we have been
lucky enough to be able to do a
lot of performances with StarKid
all over places, but I think com-
ing back together in Ann Arbor is
something that we haven’t done
since the concert tours. But then to
actually perform in a school func-
tion thing is pretty cool. Not as a
concert, but doing it like an actual
show where we’re doing scenes
from shows.
Dylan: Yeah, it’s good to be back
in a spot where it’s etched forever.
This is where we were developing
a lot of this stuff, you know what I
mean? It’s just cool after like a five-
year break to be back in this exact
space. It’s just like really wild and
really fun.
Joey: And to be developing as
human beings.
Dylan: Totally. To look back
with a little “Oh, OK, I get it now.”
Lauren: To look back with a
little perspective.
Dylan: Yeah. There’s a ton of
that.
(Darren Criss sits and joins the
conversation.)
TMD: What was the last show
you guys remember doing on this
stage?
Lauren: I was in a show called
“J.B.” with Dylan. Dylan played
J.B. It was a big deal.
Joey: I was in “Macbeth.”
Lauren: Don’t … you can’t say
that in here!
Joey: Whoops.
Lauren: What’s wrong with
you?
Darren: You totally can say it.
Lauren: No you can’t.
Joey: I was in “The Scottish
Play.” We said the name during
the play.
Lauren: Just forget it.
Joey: I was Banquo.
Dylan: Um, yeah. The last thing
I did was “Tommy” and “Pride &
Prejudice.”
Darren: You were so good in
“Tommy.”
TMD: How do you feel the Uni-
versity helped get you where you
are now?
Joey: Honestly, for me it just
has everything to do with meet-
ing the friends I met here. It’s like
if I didn’t go to this University and
meet all these friends and have
all these people that are the only
people I spend time with now in
my life …
Lauren: My life would be 100
percent different.
Joey: Exactly. My life would
be 100 percent different.
Dylan: As a foundation, this
set the stage for everything
that’s happened since. Like lit-
erally everything.
Darren: When I first went
out to L.A. and started meeting
people in the industry, it was
predicated upon the fact that I
went to Michigan.
Lauren: Yeah. U of M has
such a crazy alumni network.
Dylan: All of our first agents
went to Michigan.
***
Darren: I think this is the part
where we’re supposed to talk
about how great the School of
Music was. I always feel bad when
people are like, “What was the best
part about Michigan?” and I go,
“My friends, uh, the times I had.”
It all has nothing to do with the
actual institution. For most theatre
people, artisan types, stereotypical
kids from high school, they tend
to gravitate toward small, liberal
arts colleges because it’s just sort
of the vibe of the school, it’s just
a bit more typical. And somebody
told me, “You can always make a
big place small, you can’t make a
small place big.” The cool thing
about this school is, yeah, there are
30,000 kids running around and
our class was anywhere from 16 to
20-odd people, so we had our tiny
little community, and it was great.
Dylan: It was a tiny family
within a giant operation.
Joey: It was like being in
a mixed-gender sorority and
fraternity.
Darren: So we had the small
thing, and if the small thing ever
got annoying, we had the big thing.
Dylan: And being able to
switch back and forth is great,
especially when you’re studying
an art form. Do you know what I
mean? Because you need a break
sometimes.
Darren: Because there’s a
huge chunk of people at this Uni-
versity who don’t know anything
about theatre or the department,
and I’m fine with that.
Dylan: Which is so fine.
Which is all good because …
Darren: I don’t know things
about certain parts of the math
department,
which
is
cool
because when I’m on the bus,
(I’m like), oh cool, you do what?
Awesome. That’s amazing.
TMD: Has the dynamic
changed in the group since you
graduated?
Dylan: Other than geographi-
cally, I mean, not really.
Lauren: We’re all a tiny, tiny
bit more mature, but other than
that it’s pretty much the same.
Darren: We’re still dumb
enough to be doing this, so
that’s good.
Lauren: Yeah, we’re dumb in
the right places.
TMD: Has being so spread
out made it harder to keep doing
projects together?
Dylan: I think so, but the
advantage is that everything
is ultimately produced for the
Internet.
Joey: But then it’s always
really special when it happens.
It always feels like a reunion.
It’s like every time we do do
something, it’s that feeling:
“Ahh, I get to see all these peo-
ple again.”
TMD: Are you guys working
on any upcoming projects?
Lauren: A lot of people are
doing their own side projects.
Joey: I am going to be writ-
ing and producing a musical
with my sketch group, the Tin
Can Bros that Brian (Rosenthal)
and Corey (Lubowich) are in,
and that’s happening in L.A. in
March. And we’re kick-start-
ing that right now. Joe Walker
is going to be in it and, like, a
bunch of other friends, so that’s
pretty fun.
Dylan: Yeah, it’s a lot of indi-
vidual pursuits. I just finished a
cartoon for Nickelodeon, which
aired last week.
Read the rest of the Daily’s
interview with StarKid online at
www.michigandaily.com/arts.
STARKID
From Page 2B
We’re dumb in
the right places.