‘Galavant’ wraps
up with homages
Amid cancellation
rumors, Season 2
finale a success.
By MEGAN MITCHELL
For the Daily
Through all of its madness
and
cringe-worthy
scenes,
ABC’s “Galavant” might just be
the only show
on
television
that’s
not
bending
over
backwards
for
the
audience’s
approval.
It’s
the
“friends
with
benefits”
show that has
absolutely
zero strings attached because
they might not make it another
season. And trust me when I say
that they’re well aware of this —
it’s basically a “do whatever the
hell you want” card, and they
definitely swipe it in the season
two finale. After all, this might
be the end. Capital T-E “The
End;” And if this is really it for the
musical, then they certainly went
out with one hell of a show.
The first part of the finale
“Battle of the Three Armies” plays
off of the “Hobbit” franchise’s
“Battle of the Five Armies” in both
name and style. If J.R.R. Tolkien
had
somehow
written
“The
Hobbit” as a Broadway musical
directed by Mel Gibson, then
this 20-minute episode would
hit the target dead-center. First,
in arguably the catchiest episode
recap in history and surprising
throwback to “A Knight’s Tale”,
the Jester (Ben Presley, “What
We Did on Our Holiday”) gives
us the lowdown on what’s been
going on this season, which earns
him a round of applause from the
armies about to face each other to
the death. Meanwhile, Princess
Isabella Maria Lucia Elizabetta of
Valencia (Karen David, “Castle”)
faces her own challenges when the
Valencian army suggests suicide
as an alternative to battle, which
leads
to
a
“Braveheart”-style
speech and a song.
“It’s a Good Day to Die” is
frustratingly catchy. It exposes
the Hortensia confidence and the
ultimate fear of the Valencians
when the battle begins; it even
reprises
a
duet
between
a
young couple whose house is
unfortunately located right in the
center of the battlefield. But despite
these humorous inserts, emotions
really rule most of this episode.
Especially the hesitation shown
by Queen Madalena (Mallory
Jansen, “Young & Hungry”) when
the magician Wormwood (Robert
Lindsay, “Atlantis”) requests her
use of dark magic to win the battle.
“Actually, I’ve been having second
thoughts about the dark evil way,”
she spills. Even though it’s whiny
and grabs a quick laugh, it’s totally
believable — I mean, it took a
while for even Anakin Skywalker
to turn into Darth Vader. It takes
a lot of thought, and apparently a
Disney-esque musical number and
synchronized choreography for
the Queen to give in.
The first part of the season
finale ends with a reunion of
friends and the reprise of “It’s a
Good Day to Die” that gives way
to the clever “Oh please, this isn’t
‘Game of Thrones!’ ” line that will
most definitely be recycled by
fans. Just as the Jester ponders
leaving the audience on another
huge cliffhanger similar to that of
season one, the screen promptly
switches to black.
The final part of the season
finale begins with duet with
Richard
(Timothy
Omundson,
“Supernatural”) and his younger
character’s
counterpart
(Alfie
Simmons, “The Woman in Black
2”)
that’s
cringeworthy,
but
stylistically pleasing. It highlights
an important question we all
might be pondering. What would
our younger selves think about
who we are today? So even though
it’s incredibly cheesy and off-
key, there’s a deeper, emotional
meaning much like that we’ve
seen in the more recent episodes of
“Galavant”. The writers are taking
all the right stylistic chances with
this episode.
We’re thrown back into battle
and as Richard fights Wormwood,
we finally see the true power
that’s been previously dormant in
Richard after the supposed death
of the lizard/dragon Tad Cooper.
The change between fighting
freestyle and with a vengeance
that Omundson shows is striking
and quite terrifying, so I almost
wish we could have witnessed it
sooner. Now completely worthy
of the “One True King” title that
we’ve all been waiting for, Richard
pursues lost love Roberta (Clare
Foster, “Ripper Street”) in an
attempt to save her from a life of
becoming an old cat lady, earning
him a ticket from the police on the
way that hits us all in that secret
“oh, c’mon!” spot, I’m sure.
Overall, the (possibly final)
season finale of “Galavant” took
chances that paid off in the long
run, while still playing off the
“cheese” factor it’s well known
for. One last joke pokes fun at the
unlikeliness of a renewal for the
show and the possibility of the
cast being sent to “crappy cable
TV” before it finally all comes
to an end. Almost. Because Tad
Cooper finally turns into a big
fucking dragon at the end, and I’m
personally proud of that.
A-
Galavant
Season 2
Finale
ABC
A case against the
Canada Goose coat
STYLE NOTEBOOK
By HANNAH SPARKS
For the Daily
It’s that time again, the time
when all of the Canadian Geese
start to migrate to Ann Arbor,
Mich. When the temperatures
drop, we see an influx of these
geese by the hundreds. If you
haven’t caught onto my attempt
at sarcasm yet, I’m talking about
Canada Goose jackets. Having just
transferred to this fine University,
seeing every other person wear
a Canada Goose is the very first
thing I noticed.
For the record, I do own a Canada
Goose, but in my defense it’s just
a vest. How did Canada Goose
manage to become so popular in
these past five years? Apart from
them being everywhere, some of
the jackets are quite unique and
come in fabulous colors: greens,
blues, greys and red. Having said
that, the majority of what I see is
the same long, black fur hooded
Canada Goose parka.
Prices for these beloved jackets
start at $495 and can get as high
as $1,275. Can we just stop and put
that into perspective for a second?
That money could go toward so
many other things — paying rent,
paying for insurance, a million
Starbucks coffees and not to
mention you get even get a plane
ticket to Europe for those high
prices. Also let’s not forget the
last option — we could always just
choose to put our money in the
bank and save it, but that’s, like, a
crazy concept.
Canada Goose jackets are quite
literally made for and worn by
people who are out in the Arctic. I
know Michigan can feel like living
in an icebox at times, but there are
other jackets out there that can
make you feel just as warm as that
Canada Goose. Admittedly, when
I first got my hands on my Canada
Goose vest I was very eager to
“show it off.” Being someone who
values material things (sorry not
sorry), I felt very proud to finally
have my very own Canada Goose
product. Yet, having owned it
for two years now, I realize it’s
nothing more than a warm vest
with a cool patch on the front.
There’s really nothing else to it. If
anything, I should be feeling bad
for all the geese that had to die for
this product.
The
“Kensington”
parka,
priced at $775, is definitely what
more than half of the girls at
the University are wearing. For
the guys, the “Carson” parka
seems to be the popular choice.
These jackets are so expensive
that they’re what I would call
an investment piece. I struggle
to believe that this many people
like the same exact style, in the
same exact color (black). Let’s be
real. The jackets aren’t actually
flattering, they’re just formless
parkas. The jacket is hot right
now. For a lot of people it’s just a
fashion statement that will grow
old in the next couple of years.
I applaud everyone who has
ventured outside of these two
types and has decided to go with
something different.
People tend to spend money
on things they don’t necessarily
care for, with money they don’t
necessarily have, just so they
can conform to the majority.
To me, this is sad. Please only
buy a Canada Goose if you truly
want one. Although I do like my
Canada Goose vest, and have to
admit the jackets are good quality,
I cannot deny the fact that they’re
incredibly overrated.
ABC
You know they’re on their way to Red Lobster.
TV REVIEW
A
bout four weeks ago,
I decided to grow
a beard. I made my
decision out of necessity: I
was skiing out West where, on
the
first
day of a
six
day
excur-
sion,
the
wind
and
cold
ripped
apart
the
skin
on
my
face
into
peeling,
inflamed flakes of shedding
epidermis. With my face burn-
ing red, tender to the touch, I
needed some extra protection
if I was to return to Ann Arbor
without looking like Captain
America’s nemesis, the Red
Skull. After those six days, I
decided to challenge myself
and see how well (or poorly)
I could get my barely visible
bleach blonde scruff to grow.
After a month, the results are
satisfactory, better than I had
predicted.
During that month, I also
watched 10 Western films,
old and new. Almost every
single male character in these
films, with the exception of
Gary Cooper in “High Noon,”
sports some mighty form of
bristly, manly facial hair. Kurt
Russell’s potent mustache in
“Tombstone,”
which
grew
even more formidable in “The
Hateful Eight,” the rugged
stubble
of
Clint
Eastwood
and
Franco
Nero
in
the
“Dollars” trilogy and “Django,”
respectively,
Jeff
Bridges’s
scruffy, one-eyed sheriff in
“True Grit” and even Leo’s
dirty,
disheveled,
somewhat
patchy mountain man look
in “The Revenant” (which, I
would argue, is most certainly
a
Western),
all
of
these
protagonists don better facial
hair than I ever could. I find
my own mildly bristled visage
inadequate by comparison.
But of course, they’re actors;
they have makeup departments
to fix what they can’t grow,
to make their beards and
mustaches perfect. They are, in
fact, perfect specimens of facial
hair. And given their perfection
and their pervasiveness and
visibility, one realizes that
facial hair has become integral
to the Western hero. Because
when
I
think
about
Kurt
Russell’s Wyatt Earp without
a mustache, he looks less
grizzled, less haunted by his
past as a soldiering peacekeeper
(and it wouldn’t be historically
accurate, but that’s beside the
point). A clean-shaven John
Wayne
in
“The
Searchers”
seems
less
desperate,
less
martial. And I have a hard
enough time believing Leo
could
ever
survive
in
the
wilderness like Hugh Glass —
the absence of his beard would
make “The Revenant” beyond
incredulous. I ask myself why
this is.
Naturally, we can reason a
couple explanations as to the
characters’ beards: It’s the Wild
West, so of course many men
will be unkempt, since they
have larger concerns at hand.
And the costume and makeup
departments likely want to
remain historically accurate in
the case of biopics, and many
classic lawmen and outlaws
grew some sort of facial hair.
But it’s very easy to write off
these decisions to historical
accuracy. I imagine most people
don’t know what Hugh Glass
and Wyatt Earp actually looked
like, and no one would complain
if they lacked facial hair. After
all, film has influenced much
of how we think about and
perceive the West, for better or
worse, as much as if not more
than history itself. We have
mythologized the West into,
well, a Hollywood version of
itself through years of mythic
constructions in the 1930s and
’40s, some deconstructions in
the ’50s and some hyperviolent
hyperboles in the ’60s and
’70s (and most recently with
“Django Unchained”). All of
these films attack or build or
borrow from the myth of the
American West in a myriad
of ways, but they are all tied
to their bearded heroes and
villains.
Most recently, I watched
the 2007 remake of “3:10 to
Yuma,” and the situation is no
different. Christian Bale’s Dan
Evans is an ex-Union soldier,
who lost his leg during the
war and a struggling farmer.
He is tasked with escorting
renowned outlaw Ben Wade
(Russell Crowe) to the town of
Contention to catch the train
to Yuma prison. Both Bale and
Crowe don the same short-
boxed, low-trimmed beard —
these men are two sides of the
same coin, a complicated mix
of good and evil, success and
failure, muddied by differing
perceptions
of
justice.
For
Wade, justice is monetary, a
give and take depending on
actions dealt and received.
Evans is more concrete: justice
is honor and code, a duty to
uphold “though the heavens
fall,” as the saying goes. Over
the course of the film, the two
ideologies mesh and mingle,
and morality and justice shift
depending on the perspective.
That’s not to say that the
facial hair itself dictates this
idea, but that it links these
two forceful characters and
contrasts them with the others:
the
snooty,
rich
railroad
man’s slicked moustache, the
seasoned
officer’s
thicker
mane, the out-of-his-element
doctor’s modest moustache and
the beardless, angry stowaway
son of Evans. All of these other
characters are wildly different
from each other and serve
mainly to highlight this central
conflict between Evans and
Wade, two titans of morality. It
is here we find the heart of the
Western.
Every tale set in the American
West is tragic, because, in every
case, no matter what happens,
the
story,
the
characters,
the laws and the values will
inevitably be left behind. But
even in the nameless, endless
stretches of sand and mountain
ranges that time and progress
will soon forget, the stakes are
never higher. In the myth of
the American West, a fight in
the small town of Contention
between two men with nothing
in common but their beards
can create an atmosphere rich
with tension, so dangerous
and fateful it might as well be
a fight between God and the
Devil. It’s an atmosphere that
only the Western has been able
to achieve so perfectly and
consistently.
That’s
why
the
Western
will
never
disappear;
our
perceptions,
historical
and
current, of good, evil, morality
and
justice,
though
they
change and though we revise
them through the years, are
engrained in our consciousness,
and engrained in the American
Western. Even in films like
“Unforgiven” (where the heroes
are bearded and the villain is
clean shaven) that completely
reject and deconstruct the West
for all of its ugliness. Though
it’s a genre fixed in time, it is, in
the end, timeless.
And
if
the
Western
is
timeless, then so too are the
beards that contribute to its
ethos. I like to believe that the
emphasis placed on a strong
beard in these films is not due to
the lack of cheap Gillette razors
but to the evocation of the battle
for justice and a bygone way of
life that the beard symbolizes. I
can only hope to one day honor
that ethos, and grow something
that might make Kurt Russell
proud.
This is a story of a boy and
his beard. If you’d swipe right,
email jbircoll@umich.edu.
FILM COLUMN
A beard made for
Westerns
My barely
visible bleach
blonde scruff.
JAMIE
BIRCOLL
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Wednesday, February 10, 2016 — 5A