The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Friday, October 28, 2016 — 5
BBC AMERICA
The hound of the Baskervilles
From the pages of Douglas
Adams, author of “The Hitch-
hiker’s
Guide
to
the
Galaxy,”
comes a quirky
television
series
that plays off of
the ages-old trope
of an intelligent,
yet socially awk-
ward
detective
who solves crimes
for a living. This
setup is not out-
side of the BBC’s
domain,
as
the
network is well-
known for their
modern adaptation of Sir Arthur
Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes
in the acclaimed series “Sher-
lock.” However, in this case, the
name is Dirk Gently, and the
game is solving crimes in the
most holistic, matter-of-chance
manner allowed in the murder
business.
Over the past few years, the
BBC has kept relatively close to
its own territory, struggling to
deviate from its more developed
and popular series, so it’s nice to
see the network taking chances
in “Dirk Gently.” From start to
finish, “Dirk Gently’s Holistic
Detective Agency” is as eccen-
tric and exotic as its name sug-
gests.
The lead of “Dirk Gently” ’s
pilot is not the titular detec-
tive himself, but rather Todd
Brotzman (Elijah Wood, “The
Lord of the Rings” series), a
hapless hotel employee whose
life is turned upside down by an
impossibly grisly murder scene.
This role marks Wood’s return
to television, following a run-
ning lead on the cult comedy
“Wilfred,” a stint that prepared
him for his role as a struggling
young man on “Dirk Gently.”
Adapted for television by
screenwriter
Max
Landis
(“Chronicle”), the
series glances at
the detective busi-
ness through an
indie film lens, not
unlike the work
of Wes Anderson.
From a trapped
young woman in
the upstairs flat
that
glows
red
to the corgi that
follows Todd in
a distinctly un-
canine
manner,
nothing
about
this series is generic. In its own
way, the series is venturing into
cult-classic territory through
dabbling in the abnormal and
impossible.
In fact, the premise of the
series seems to pull a lot from
the world of impossibilities.
Dirk Gently (Samuel Barnett,
“Penny Dreadful”) is horribly
reminiscent of the weird kid
down the street who reads just a
little too much Star Wars fanfic-
tion than should be comfortably
allowed. Gently is a self-pro-
claimed “holistic detective” —
as in, he literally does nothing to
solve a case. Believing in chance
and the universal interconnect-
edness of events, he lets fate do
the heavy lifting, opting to just
sit back and enjoy the ride. More
times than not, Gently’s manner
of solving a case doesn’t actually
work, but it’s all in good fun, as
Barnett’s mannerisms and per-
sonality make him the perfect
choice for the eccentric detec-
tive. You’ll find it difficult not to
burst into a grin when his char-
acter steps on screen.
Even the real detectives are
almost as absurd as Gently.
Everyone seems to be after Dirk
Gently for one reason or anoth-
er. The CIA, the FBI, two bum-
bling Black Ops, the local cops
and a crazed holistic assassin all
seem to have it in for Mr. Gen-
tly, for reasons unknown to us at
this point in the season. Howev-
er, these colliding plot lines indi-
cate a direction for the show,
which is a promising thought
after just the first episode of
the season. Who is the holis-
tic assassin? What happened to
the girl in the Red Room? Who
is Dirk Gently, though — real-
ly? The previous questions just
prove that we’re in for quite the
show in the coming episodes.
As
the
detective-assistant
crime fighting formula tells us,
you cannot have a relationship
between a private investigator
and their assistant without first
dragging in an unwilling par-
ticipant.
It is in this manner that Todd
finds himself thrown (quite lit-
erally) into the absurd world of
the time traveller Dirk Gently.
Desperately needing the money
to fund the care for his sister’s
delicate psychological condi-
tion, Todd reluctantly agrees
to follow Gently around on his
crime-solving escapades.
However, secret organiza-
tions and assassins aside, there
are still a hundred and two
other forces threatening to tear
the duo apart — even if the uni-
verse seems intent on keeping
them together. All of this may
seem like a lot to swallow after
only the first episode of the sea-
son, but direction is everything
and “Dirk Gently” is certainly
on the path to becoming a suc-
cessful crime-com for the mod-
ern day Sherlock enthusiast.
MEGAN MITCHELL
Daily Arts Writer
‘Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective
Agency’ is an eccentric crime-com
Elijah Wood’s new BBC show puts a twist on the old mystery genre
TV REVIEW
I
have a confession to make:
I should have written this
a long time ago. And I’ve
been thinking about doing so for
months now, balancing on the
edge between action and inac-
tion, resolution and hesitance.
But I waited, caught up in the
tide of life, busy with study and
art. About a week ago, I real-
ized that I should wait for a very
specific amount of
time. I should wait
until now. Today is
almost exactly three
months to the day
since the Finnish
composer Einojuhani
Rautavaara died, and
I have some things
to say.
There is a running
joke of sorts amongst
some of my col-
leagues at The Michigan Daily
— namely, it’s often remarked
that I’m the person who can be
relied upon to write about dead
composers. This is undeniably
true — after all, with my strong
interest in classical music, I
write an awful lot about com-
posers who have been dead for
decades or more. But this isn’t
what they mean when they say
I write about dead composers.
They mean that I write about
our world’s recently deceased
artists, the composers who were
among us and then suddenly
aren’t anymore. And I suppose
I’m well-suited for it, having
both the requisite knowledge
base and the melancholic tem-
perament. Last winter I wrote
about Boulez and Bassett, feel-
ing that they were people who
deserved a moment of our atten-
tion, a little piece of silence away
from the noise of existence.
When I heard of Rautavaara’s
death, this summer I knew that
he deserved the same.
I wouldn’t characterize Rau-
tavaara as an extremely popular
or well-known composer, but
among those who were familiar
with his work, he was loved.
When I heard of his death this
summer, I was in Paris studying
music with a number of fellow
composers — unsurprisingly,
that night there was a large sec-
tion of dinner-table conversation
dedicated to Rautavaara, and
among us there wasn’t a single
negative opinion. Such was the
breadth of his appeal; within a
group of composers, a disparate
handful with interests and aes-
thetics ranging from modernism
to minimalism to traditional
tonalism, Rautavaara had some-
thing for everyone. And I think
this is because, over the course
of his 87 years, it was almost as
if Rautavaara was several differ-
ent composers.
Not everyone knows this, but
the word “retrospective” actu-
ally has two definitions. The
first is common usage of “look-
ing back,” but the second deals
specifically with surveying the
life’s work of a particular art-
ist. In Rautavaara’s
case, there is a lot
to talk about. Ever
evolving, Rautavaara
wrote both music that
is atonal and serial-
ist, and music that is
lusciously tonal and
Romantic in senti-
ment. But, at least to
my ears, one of the
most striking aspects
of Rautavaara’s music
is its remarkable Finnishness.
Finland isn’t famous for its
composers — over the course
of its history, there have been
maybe only a handful who have
entered the mass conscious-
ness of what we’d call Western
civilization. Even I, with a
significantly larger than aver-
age knowledge of the field, can
name only a few, most of whom
are active today (including Kaija
Saariaho, whom I adore and
wholly recommend seeking out).
The titan of Finnish classical
music is the great symphonist
Jean Sibelius, and it was this
“greatest Finnish composer”
who was an early champion of a
young Rautavaara’s work, a man
who in recent weeks has been
lauded as “the greatest Finnish
composer since Sibelius.” Tak-
ing these two greats together,
though focusing on the latter,
one can hear some of the funda-
mental characteristics of Finn-
ish classical.
Finland is a country caught
between worlds. A nation asso-
ciated with — yet distinct from
— Scandinavian culture, it also
bears strong influences from
its eastern neighbor, Russia. At
the crossroads of the Cold War,
Finland balanced in an awkward
position of neutrality, remaining
independent of both NATO and
the Warsaw Pact while the Sovi-
et Union simultaneously stuck
its hands into Finland’s politics.
German politicians of the day
even coined a neologism for this
type of practice — Finlandiza-
tion. On top of all that, Finland
counterintuitively speaks a lan-
guage whose closest relative is
Hungarian.
All of this can be heard in
Rautavaara’s music. Or at least,
in an abstract sense it can be.
Like his compatriot Sibelius,
Rautavaara composed large-
scale orchestral works in the
dramatic vein of the great Ger-
man symphonists (Brahms,
Bruckner, Mahler and the like)
that also embraced a sound
world that is often described as a
“brooding Nordic atmosphere.”
But when listening to a work
like “Symphony No. 7, ‘Angel
of Light’ ” for instance, one
can’t help but notice a striking
similarity to the Soviet com-
poser Dmitri Shostakovich in
the orchestrations and colors.
You can find this sort of cross-
cultural influence everywhere.
Rautavaara’s early opera “Kai-
vos” is loosely based on Soviet
policy during the Hungarian
uprising of 1956, but its musical
language is distinctly Western —
throughout the opera, he sounds
quite close to the aesthetic of the
Second Viennese School, a man-
ner of writing that at that time
was dominant in European and
American universities, yet never
took hold in Russia. Specifically,
he reminds one of the supple and
expressive atonality of Berg, and
he was directed influenced by
Schoenberg’s opera “Moses und
Aron.”
Rautavaara himself was well
aware of this dichotomy — writ-
ing in the foreword to the score
for his “Missa a cappella,” he
notes “I was born and live in
a country on the borderline
between East and West: Fin-
land, between the Orthodox and
Roman Catholic/Lutheran reli-
gions.” The reason he includes
mention of this in the score
for a mass was because he had
already written an Orthodox
Vigil. To balance this with a
piece of Catholicism seemed
only fitting.
But whatever the pushes and
pulls on his music are, no mat-
ter what you listen to, it remains
uniquely his own. Despite the
numerous influences, when you
listen to Rautavaara, it is always
Rautavaara as an individual
you hear. Whether you put on
Rautavaara the modernist, or
Rautavaara the neo-Romantic
tonalist, it’s always his voice.
From the bleakness of “Kaivos”
to the sweeping drama of “Piano
Concerto No. 1,” to his concerto
for arctic birds, “Cantus Arcti-
cus,” Rautavaara remains Rau-
tavaara. And he will be missed.
Hare is waiting for
another composer to die.
If death is imminent, email
haredayt@umich.edu.
A Rautavaara
retrospective
Remembering the late composer, beloved in the musical community
CLASSICAL MUSIC COLUMN
Scrunchies and acid-washed
jean jackets aren’t the only
trends from the ’80s that are
making their way back into
pop culture relevancy. The Pre-
tenders, a rock band that origi-
nated in the late ’80s, have just
released their newest album,
Alone, and it’s a surprisingly
prime example of why throw-
backs can sometimes work.
This album’s main strength
comes from the fact that lead
singer and main songwriter
Chrissie Hynde breathed new
life into an old label. Through a
synergy of messy guitar chords
and subtle hints of electronic
influences, Alone turns your
life into an afterschool special,
and while not every song on this
album upholds the same level of
quality, they all serve to remind
the listener that New Wave
punk rock can still hold its own
in today’s music world.
Alone commences on the
titular opening track, “Alone,”
which wastes no time in demon-
strating that the Pretenders are
B
Alone
The Pretenders
BMG
BMG
They don’t look alone to us.
’80s new-wave pioneer rockers the
Pretenders return with solid ‘Alone’
Chrissie Hynde’s group proves that rock ‘n’ roll will never die
ALBUM REVIEW
back and have lost none of their
charm. This song is a strange
conglomeration of vocals that
are half speaking/half singing
with upbeat, popping harmo-
nies. “Alone” is simultaneously
both the rose and the thorns,
with “absolutely fuck off” over
a light background of jangling
rhythms. Charming in the way
it couldn’t seem to care less
about your opinion, “Alone”
is the perfect introduction to
other
songs
in
this
album.
It
paves
the
road
to songs such as
“Roadie
Man”
and “Gotta Wait,”
with
reminders
that the Pretend-
ers will still be
cooler than you, no matter what
year it is.
“Roadie Man” appears to
draw influences from singers
like Norah Jones. It inspires a
Sunday morning mood through
Hynde’s silver-tongued croon-
ing over slow and steady back-
ground melodies. This song’s
honey-smooth finish directly
contrasts “Gotta Wait,” which
features choppy guitar notes
and a driving beat. Yet, despite
this divergence, these songs are
constant in the fact that they
showcase the very best of what
the Pretenders can do with
their well-developed sound.
Songs like “Alone,” Roadie
Man” and “Gotta Wait” from
Alone are very reminiscent of
older songs like “Message of
Love” or “Brass in Pocket.”
They show that even after
almost 40 years, Hynde still
manages to uphold the mellow,
buoyant vibes that were so icon-
ic in the ’80s.
However, as with any blast
from the past, there runs a risk
of over-sentimentality. Some
songs in Alone are drawn out
and
excessive.
For
example,
“Blue Eyed Sky”
starts out with
the clichéd “no
one understands
me” and only gets
worse from there.
It seems to be
constantly reaching for some-
thing that isn’t there, which
makes the song come across as
empty instead of nonchalantly
casual.
The same issue is repeated
in “I Hate Myself.” By the third
repetition of “I hate myself, I
hate myself, I hate myself, I hate
myself,” you already want the song
to be over and by the sixth repeti-
tion the idea of repeatedly bang-
ing your head against the nearest
table is looking more and more
appealing.
This
unwarranted,
drawn-out sappiness continues in
“Death Is Not Enough,” complete
with over-done comparisons and
an achingly slow beat.
Alone starts out as a strong
example of the immortality of
New Wave rock but then slowly
dissolves into a directionless,
maudlin jumble of empty songs.
Only the final song, “Holy Com-
motion,” redeemed the album’s
end. Rousing and rejuvenating,
with a snazzy electronic key-
board in the background pro-
viding a unique twist, “Holy
Commotion” is a blend of the
old and the new: Hynde’s time-
less voice carrying remnants
of where the Pretenders came
from
while
the
disjointed,
complex composition of the
song itself carrying an omen of
where the Pretenders can go in
the future.
Alone is a revival of an old
brand. The Pretenders’ old
rhythms, tunes and harmonies
have been recycled and upgrad-
ed, creating an unexpected
blend of nostalgia and intrigue
that works for a majority of the
album. What the Pretenders
should be wary about is becom-
ing stuck in the past and sub-
sequently creating songs that
lose originality in their repeti-
tive
templates
and
saccha-
rine sound. However, despite
these difficulties encountered
in Alone, it is, overall, a strong
album. Neil Young was right;
rock ‘n’ roll will never die, and if
all its revivals come in the form
of Alone, that isn’t really some-
thing to complain about.
A-
“Dirk Gently’s
Holistic Detective
Agency”
Series Premiere
BBC America
Saturdays at 9 p.m.
SHIMA SADAGHIYANI
Daily Arts Writer
DAYTON
HARE