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