The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Tuesday, February 23, 2016 — 5

Owens biopic ‘Race’ 
runs slow and steady

By LAUREN WOOD

Daily Arts Writer

The goal of historical dramas 

and biopics is often to enhance our 
understanding of past events and 
to shine a light 
on 
moments 

that may have 
dimmed 
over 

time. 
These 

films can help 
reshape 
our 

understand-
ing of current 
events we face, 
adding depth to 
today’s problems by demonstrat-
ing their echoes throughout his-
tory. “Race” is the latest of these 
biopics.

“Race” tells the story of Olym-

pic runner Jesse Owens (Stephan 
James, “Selma”) and how he won 
four gold medals at the 1936 Berlin 
games, held in the middle of Nazi 
Germany. After coming to Ohio 
State University as one of the first 
black athletes and facing bigotry 
from other players and coaches, 
Owens’s qualification for the Ber-
lin Olympics only augments his 
struggle to succeed when the 
NAACP calls on him to withdraw 
from the games in solidarity with 
the Jewish people. Attending the 
games with the hope that defeat-
ing Germany will send a greater 
message, the film explores the poli-
tics behind the involvement of the 
U.S. in the Olympics and the way 

Owens’s race plays into decisions 
at levels as large as international 
relations and as small as congratu-
latory remarks after a race.

The film addresses race from 

a vast array of angles, living up to 
its name and depicting the multi-
faceted complications that come 
from tackling such a pervasive and 
complex subject. From the first 
time Owens boards the bus to Ohio 
State for his first semester, we see 
snide comments from the white 
women sitting in the front, and 
these microaggressions escalate to 
confrontations in the locker room 
or interactions with other teams’ 
coaches. Establishing the per-
vasiveness of racial inequality in 
Owens’s everyday life sets the floor 
of the film well. When we do move 
onto larger issues, such as his deci-
sion whether or not to compete in 
the games, or the prejudices of the 
German Olympic committee, these 
are not the only times his race is a 
point of contention. Additionally, 
the film ends on a note of contin-
ued bigotry in the United States, 
with a scene of Owens and his wife 
arriving at a dinner at the Astoria 
held in his honor and being forced 
to use the service entrance behind 
the hotel. The image of the two 
walking through a bustling, dirty 
kitchen in elegant evening wear is 
shocking and honest, ending the 
film on a sober note.

There’s a huge amount of 

screen time devoted to interac-
tions 
between 
the 
American 

Olympic Committee and Joseph 
Goebbels, Nazi Germany’s director 
of propaganda (Barnaby Metsch-
urat, “L’auberge espagnole”), as 
the two angrily argue over Ger-
many’s treatment of the American 
athletes, both Black and Jewish. 
What’s interesting about these 
moments, though, is not just the 
way these athletes’ ability to com-
pete in the Olympics is based on 
white officials’ opinions about race, 
but the way the officials’ power 
and brutality seem to go hand in 
hand. Leni Riefenstahl (Carice 
van Houten, “Game of Thrones”) 
is problematically seen as more of 
a heroic, anti-establishment artist, 
instead of Hitler’s close friend and 
Nazi supporter.

The instances of camaraderie 

between athletes on the Olympic 
team, regardless of race or coun-
try, is a powerful inclusion to the 
story, and one of the most striking 
moments of the film comes from 
the on-field friendship between 
Owens and fellow German com-
petitor Lutz Long (David Kross, 
“War Horse”). Once Long fouls 
and disqualifies himself from the 
long jump, he invites Owens to fin-
ish the competition, the two then 
taking a victory lap together in cel-
ebration of the new world record. 
Looked down upon scornfully by 
the Nazi officials at the top of the 
stadium, there is a sense of prog-
ress and unity on the field, and a 
glimmer of hope in the drab land-
scape of the time.

KANYE WEEK
Breaking: Kanye is 
an asshole, still OK

By CARLY SNIDER

Daily Arts Writer

Kanye West is an asshole: an 

incredibly talented, multifacet-
ed, boundary-pushing asshole. 
But despite the feelings you 
may have about him as a per-
son, to deny his societal clout 
and musical prowess is naïve. 
His ability to maintain an enor-
mous global fan base despite 
his aggressive persona and 
lyrical styles is both impres-
sive and puzzling. He shames 
women and other social groups, 
but wraps it in such impres-
sive packaging that it is hard to 
resist. Listeners are in love with 
the madness — the suspense of 
not knowing what the icon will 
do next. West’s views are often 
problematic 
and 
offensive, 

leaving it up to the listeners to 
decide if the power of his music 
is enough to outweigh his, at 
times, unsavory personality. As 
a young woman, I have a hard 
time justifying my support of 
the artist in his often sexist and 
unkind artistry.

Take West’s “Cold,” feat. DJ 

Khaled, as just one example of 
’Ye’s paradoxically brilliant and 
distasteful nature. In just the 
first verse of this track alone, 
West disses PETA, brings up 

monetary inequalities between 
races in America and reminds 
listeners that he can snag a “bad 
bitch without no flaws.” The 
song goes on to name drop Anna 
Wintour, model Anja Rubik, 
Jay-Z and Wiz Khalifa. West 
wants you to know that famous 
people respect him too, not just 
public peasants.

It wouldn’t be a true Yeezy 

track unless the rapper called 
someone out in a not-so-sub-
tle fashion. As the track was 
released in 2012, it comes as no 
surprise that West’s scorching 
gaze fell upon Kris Humphries. 
It was around this time that 
’Ye’s future fiancé was involved 
with Mr. Humphries, prompt-
ing ’Ye to vent his jealousy in 
the most appropriate way pos-
sible — an aggressive verse 
threatening to get Humphries 
dropped from his team.

“Cold” is arresting, surpris-

ing and not for everyone, just 
like the artist who wrote it. Its 
soundscape is abrasive, with 
repetitive beeping tones, yells 
and coughs from West and 
Khaled. Lines like “Don’t talk 
about style cause I embarrass 
you / Shut the fuck up when 
you talk to me ‘fore I embar-
rass you” are not for the weak of 
heart, but neither is West. The 

song hints at the artist’s ever 
rising dreams for himself, like 
being the creative director of 
Hermes, and his never-falter-
ing self-confidence. His belief 
in himself is both enviable and 
overbearing. It proves that 
Kanye really does love Kanye 
more than anyone else. (Sorry, 
Kim.)

West is a prime example of 

the relationship between an 
artist, their work and public 
opinion. Is it the public’s job to 
differentiate between an art-
ist and their work, then judge 
each accordingly? Or are art-
ists to be taken as a whole? 
These questions become even 
more 
convoluted 
when 
the 

artist in question is guilty of 
transgressions that are deemed 
essentially harmless — making 
sexist comments or being elit-
ist, rather than committing a 
hard crime. I think that these 
kinds of questions can only 
be answered on an individual 
level. West is undeniably iconic 
and deserves to be honored for 
the art he has produced and 
inspired. I think that Yeezus is 
a masterpiece and that West is 
nothing if not driven. But, he’s 
also a jerk. And I am still unsure 
how exactly to think of him, and 
am doubtful that I ever will.

TV REVIEW
‘11.22.63’ struggles 
to engage its viewers

By MEGAN MITCHELL

Daily Arts Writer

On November 22, 1963, Presi-

dent John F. Kennedy was assassi-
nated when his motorcade passed 
through Dealey 
Plaza during a 
visit to Dallas, 
TX. Shots heard 
originating 
from the Texas 
Book 
Deposi-

tory led to the 
arrest of Lee 
Harvey Oswald 
for the murder 
of the president. When Oswald 
himself was assassinated before 
we could hear his account of what 
happened on 11/22/1963, the fuel 
that would light the flame of con-
spiracy theorists began its slow 
burn.

“11.22.63” is a Hulu miniseries 

adapted from the Stephen King 
novel of the same name. The prem-
ise explores the complex idea of 
time travel and the implications 
that might arise if people mess 
with time. It’s a butterfly effect that 
basically boils down to “If you fuck 
with the past, it’ll fuck with you.” 
Specifically, the series presents the 
idea of altering a fixed point in time 
— the JFK assassination. Show-
runner Bridget Carpenter (“Friday 
Night Lights”) and producer J.J. 
Abrams (“Star Wars: The Force 
Awakens”) head the adaptation of 
the novel into an 8-part series.

“11.22.63” may work well as a 

novel, but it ultimately falls short of 
expectations as a television series. 
If anything, the adaptation serves 
as a dramatic period piece with a 
savvy science fiction hook. Playing 
off of concepts that stemmed from 
successful predecessors such as 
“The Twilight Zone” and “Back to 

the Future,” the series tries to uti-
lize the goodwill associated with 
depicting American history. And 
while the target audience is most 
likely aimed at the baby boomer 
and millennial generations, the 
time commitment of the first 
hour-and-20-minute episode is 
unrealistic. Although it isn’t much 
longer than an episode of “Game of 
Thrones,” the show lacks “GoT” ’s 
emotional payoff when the episode 
is finished. With “11.22.63,” you’re 
left feeling emotionless and with-
out a desire to continue to the next 
episode. Frankly, it is an easy show 
to forget.

Diner owner and apparent time 

traveler Al (Chris Cooper, “The 
Muppets”) believes that if the 
assassination of JFK is averted, 
then events that led to advance-
ments in Vietnam by JFK’s succes-
sor, President Lyndon B. Johnson, 
and the assassination of Robert 
Kennedy would never have hap-
pened. It’s an interesting idea, but 
as he’s a Vietnam veteran himself, 
the question arises of whether Al’s 
motives are self-serving and lim-
ited to his own motivations. How-
ever, when Al is diagnosed with 
cancer, he entrusts the secret of 
time travel to friend Jake Epping 
(James Franco, “The Interview”), 
an adult educator and recently 
divorced deadbeat, in the hopes 
that he will travel back to the past 
and carry on Al’s mission. The 
delivery in the present day seg-
ment of the premiere is a sloppy 
portrayal of the ordinary meeting 
the extraordinary. While Franco 
is unconvincing as a small-time 
man who has given up trying in 
life, Cooper’s Al is reminiscent of 
Eastwood’s “Gran Torino” perfor-
mance, but trading in conviction 
for wide-eyed madness.

The portal in time, aptly dubbed 

the “rabbit hole,” is located in the 
diner closet, and is where Stephen 
King’s influence melts smoothly 
into that of J.J. Abrams. An end-
less black Hitchcockian hallway 
engulfs Jake for a few slow seconds 
before we are transported to the 
glittering brightness of the ’60s, 
sans the trademark lens flares. As 
soon as Jake Epping steps through 
the portal, so does Franco, who 
shines in his fish-out-of water per-
formance, caught in the ambiance 
of the 1960s. As Franco becomes 
more comfortable with his sur-
roundings, we feel that he is more 
sure of himself in his performance. 
However, as is the case with any 
Stephen King adaptation, sus-
penseful music and horror scenes 
lie just around the corner of each 
commercial break.

A supernatural edge slices into 

the past at unexpected moments, 
eliciting a “scare jump” from the 
audience. Later, Jake edges clos-
er to George de Mohrenschildt 
(Jonny Coyne, “Nightcrawler”), a 
friend of Oswald that Al suspected 
was in touch with the CIA and ulti-
mately persuaded Oswald to assas-
sinate Kennedy. After following 
Mohrenschildt to the restaurant 
El Conejo, Jake is almost set on fire 
and crushed to death by a falling 
chandelier as history pushes back 
against his actions; a telephone 
booth is run down and strangers 
warn Jake of his unwanted pres-
ence in the past. Tragedies liter-
ally fall out of the sky in “11.22.63,” 
and we’re never sure what the 
outcome of the domino effect will 
play out for the cast. The trailers 
show much promise from King’s 
side, so hopefully we’ll get to see 
his influence later on as the mini-
series picks up pace in accelerating 
towards its ultimate end game — 
November 22, 1963.

FORECAST

One of these leads will be eligible for an Oscar.

FILM REVIEW

B

Race

Rave & 
Quality 16

Forecast Pictures

C+

11.22.63

Series Premiere

New episodes 

on Mondays

Hulu

‘Broad City’ back 
and wild as ever

Third season 

premiere is another 
wacky adventure in 

New York City

By MARIA ROBINS-SOMER-

VILLE

Daily Arts Writer

They talked openly about 

pooping and wore the same 
outfits more than once. They 
worked thank-
less jobs just 
to make ends 
meet. 
They 

were 
sweaty, 

hungry 
and 

stoned a lot of 
the time — self-
titled 
“Jew-

esses 
tryna 

make a buck.” 
At “Broad City” 
’s inception in 
2014, Ilana Wexler (Ilana Glaz-
er, “The Night Before”) and 
Abbi Abrams (Abbi Jacobson, 
“Inside Amy Schumer”) were 
unlike the majority of female 
television protagonists. They 
played on New York as if it were 
an adult playground.

“Broad City” ’s third season 

premiere “Two Chainz” lives 
up to this unvarnished and 
wacky depiction of the duo’s 
mishaps as hedonistic and self-
proclaimed queens. The show is 
often compared to “Girls” due 
to its focus on twenty-some-
thing women in New York, but 
a much more accurate com-
parison would be “Curb Your 
Enthusiasm” 
or 
“Seinfeld,” 

which feature irreverent humor 
through 
meditation 
on 
the 

mundane.

The episode opens with a 

split frame. We see Abbi and 
Ilana in their respective bath-
rooms, engaging in a wide range 
of activities on their porcelain 
thrones. They get high, have 
sex and eat chocolate. Set to 
Lizzo and Caroline Smith’s “Let 
‘Em Say,” the show’s opening 
scene announces that “Broad 
City” is back and irreverent as 
ever. Here are two besties who 
are confident in their fabulous-
ness and unabashed about their 
slacker-stoner lifestyles.

The next scene encapsulates 

what often holds “Broad City” ’s 
comedic essence together — the 
amplification of the trivial, jux-
taposed casually with the seri-
ous. While in pursuit of brunch, 
Ilana talks about the plight 
of oppressed Saudi Arabian 
women in the same breath as 
her masturbation habits. Ilana 
frequently tries to express well-
meaning but often misguided 
expression of cultural political 
awareness; she expresses her 
discontent about the turmoil to 
Abbi but almost cries when the 
waiter tells her the brunch deal 
no longer includes bottomless 
mimosas. True tragedy.

The sweetness of “Broad 

City” ’s humor stems from the 
deeply affirming and unshake-
able love between the best 
friends. When Abbi demon-
strates insecurity and unease, 
Ilana lifts her up. In a moment 
of doubt about her fashion 
quotient, Ilana reassures her 
that she looks “sexy and viva-

cious, like young wife material, 
but taut and teasy still.” When 
Abbi responds to a sleazy man 
calling out “Nice ass!” with 
a “Yeah, I know,” we know 
Ilana’s 
constant 
affirmation 

has likely helped cook up the 
quippy retort.

Even 
Lincoln 
(Hannibal 

Buress, “Neighbors”), Ilana’s 
loveable friend with benefits, 
aids in the show’s subverting 
of traditional gender roles. He 
expresses sensitivity through 
funny banter about “Sex and 
the City,” and by proudly call-
ing his mother after his gradua-
tion from trapeze school.

Another feature of the show’s 

comedy is exaggerated interac-
tion with features of the urban 
landscape. 
Abbi 
gets 
stuck 

inside of a porta potty. A ware-
house sale becomes a literal bat-
tleground. The women engage 
in spitfire shade-throwing with 
a pretentious brunch host. Ilana 
and Abbi nonchalantly find 
themselves at an overtly phal-
lic art show. They travel by foot, 
bike and truck with a fluidity 
that is distinctly urban in a way 
that lends itself to the show’s 
surreal humor. The physical 
movement is key, keeping ener-
gy high and punch lines quick.

Abbi and Ilana have contin-

ued to reclaim the word “broad” 
in multiple senses. “Broad,” 
typically used as old-fashioned 
slang for women, now cel-
ebrates the flawed, spontane-
ous and fluid nature of being a 
woman. The humor is “broad,” 
too; it provides an inclusive, 
open landscape for more superb 
comedy to come.

COMEDY CENTRAL

“Dude, your shirt’s hanging on a pole.”

TV REVIEW

A

Broad City

Season Three 
Premiere

Wednesdays 

at 10 p.m.

Comedy Central

