The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Wednesday, November 16, 2016 — 5A

MARTHA STEWART

There seem to be some ‘Blurred Lines’ in this photo.

Meek Mill is not a bad rapper. 

Let’s repeat that: Meek Mill is not 
a bad rapper.

If you’ve spent any time on 

Twitter in the last year, that 
might come as a surprise. After 
his horrible — absolutely horrible 
— handling of his beef with 
Drake, Mill became 
the face of “trash” 
rap, a nice hashtag 
that requires little 
effort or evidence to 
support, but takes up 
few characters out of 
the allotted 140.

But 
Mill’s 

rapping is not trash. 
Rather, Mill’s publicity skills and 
clearly anyone who could’ve said 
anything — seriously, anything 
at all — to him throughout that 
beef are. In some respects, he 
earned his criticism. A native of 
South Philadelphia, a product 
of a difficult upbringing which 
involved police brutality, the loss 
of his father to an armed robbery, 
and an intense, escapist focus on 
battle rapping in his teen years, 
Mill should have possessed the 
credibility and the experience to 
hold his own in a rap battle with a 
former “Degrassi” actor.

But Mill fell into the trap of 

appealing to Twitter to fight 
his battles. For a rapper who 
brandishes Glocks on his tracks, 
it came across as petty when he 
took to the internet platform to 
complain about Drake failing to 
“retweet” his album drop. Meek’s 
very valid critique about Drake 
hiring ghost writers rather than 
penning his own bars was buried 
in the Toronto native’s perfectly 
coordinated response.

Drake, following the cardinal 

social media rule which Mill 
seems to be completely oblivious 
to, appealed to the hashtag, to the 
slogan, rather than true credibility. 
Never mind that “Charged Up,” 
Drake’s initial response track, was 
underwhelming and skirted the 
issue at hand almost entirely. The 
true punch came in the timing — 
he dropped it on his brand new 
Apple Music Radio Show, just 

coming off a high from his well-
received release If You’re Reading 
This It’s Too Late, and curated 
and cut-down on his own social 
media to balance against Mill’s 
seemingly unhinged and childish 
slew of follow-up tweets.

While Mill should have just 

entered the studio and told it as it 
was, ignoring the internet entirely, 
he failed to understand the way 
these things work. By the time 

“Back to Back” 
came 
around 

he had already 
lost, his abysmal 
response 
track 

putting the nail in 
the coffin.

That 

background 
is 

essential to keep 

in mind with Mill’s first full-length 
release since that implosion. It’s 
clearly a moment which caused 
Mill an identity crisis as the 
public turned against him, and 
he uses DC4 to express some of 
that frustration. It’s a refreshing 
reminder of Mill’s rap prowess, 
but also brings up questions as to 
where that anger and that intense 
focus was when under pressure.

Still, DC4 largely succeeds in 

reaffirming that Mill still has 
skill behind the mic. He has a 
penchant for powerful opening 
tracks, and “On The Regular” 
delivers on this end. Recalling his 
first Dreamchasers mixtape and 
the opener to his last album, the 
track samples Carl Orff’s ominous 
“O Fortuna,” peppered with sharp 
gunshots. Mill is not holding his 
trigger finger back, and his bars 
are tight and pointed. But it’s no 
“Dreams and Nightmares,” and 
it won’t turn around detractors 
quite in the way his first track on 
his supposed “comeback project” 
should.

Like all of Mill’s projects, DC4 

fluctuates between strong flashes 
of brightness and throw-aways. 
It’s the stand-out individual tracks 
which support his projects, not the 
works as a whole, and DC4 is no 
different in that respect.

Take the transition between 

“Shine” and “Froze.” The former 
feels like the clearest response 
to his past beefs, and functions 
almost like a diss track in its ability 

to brush off his detractors and 
look to what matters, telling us on 
no uncertain terms, if it “Wasn’t 
for this music / I’d prolly be dead.” 
That high moment, though, moves 
to one of the missteps of the 
album, the Nicki Minaj and Lil Uzi 
assisted track “Froze.” It’s messy 
and lacks any cohesive rapping, 
save for a short stint by Minaj, to 
salvage itself. That back and forth 
can be a bit too common on this 
tape.

But 
while 
those 
two 

features don’t necessarily meet 
expectations, the guest list on this 
project is particularly important. 
It reads as a kind of who’s who of 
rap, as well as an alignment along 
pro-Drake, no-Drake lines. A 
number of rappers here have been 
involved in their own spats with 
the crooner, Tory Lanez and Pusha 
T being the most prominent.

At times those features have a 

tendency to overtake Mill himself. 
“Offended” is a Young Thug song 
in every way but name — that 
sparse, murky production and 
a never ending hook. You might 
have to listen to it more than once 
to even realize that Mill has a verse 
somewhere within the dominating 
interplay 
between 
Thug 
and 

up-and-comer 21 Savage. That 
the track is one of the highlights 
of the tape is a testament to the 
skill of the features, but also raises 
concerns for Mill’s own ability to 
craft a track. 

However, 
keeping 
to 
that 

back and forth mixtape pattern, 
Mill proves this worry wrong 
with “Lights Out,” perhaps the 
best track here. It’s classic Meek 
Mill, putting his angry bars at 
the forefront and keeping the 
production just bare enough to 
make its impact and fall away.

The end result is a mixed bag, 

equal parts moving and equal 
parts forgettable. The high notes, 
though, are high enough to place 
Mill back on his feet, and with 
some credibility regained at that. 
It’s not the roaring comeback 
that he could have used, and it’s 
hard to rationalize why he would 
continually push back and increase 
the anticipation for such a non-
explosive tape, but nonetheless 
it’s a solid reminder that Mill isn’t 
done quite yet.

Meek is not a bad rapper

MATT GALLATIN

Daily Arts Writer

‘DC4’ is an act of redemtion for the lambasted musician 

B

DC4

Meek Mill

MMG/Atlantic

ALBUM REVIEW

Stillness is the move in 

“Certain Women,” the latest 
film from acclaimed indie 
director 
Kelly 
Reichardt 

(“Night Moves”). 
An anthology film 
with 
segments 

that 
are 
only 

cursorily linked, 
“Certain Women” 
depicts the lives 
of 
four 
women 

in 
and 
around 

Livingston, 
Montana. 
The 

screenplay 
was 
adapted 

by Reichardt from a short 
story 
collection 
by 
Maile 

Meloy, a fiction writer from 
Montana. In one segment, 
Laura 
Wells 
(Laura 
Dern, 

“Wild”), a lawyer, tries to 
console her deranged client. In 
another, Gina Lewis (Michelle 
Williams, “Blue Valentine”) 
tries to buy sandstone from 
an elderly friend for a house 
she is building with her family 
from the ground up. In the 
third, Jamie (Lily Gladstone, 
in her film debut), a young 
rancher, strikes up an almost 
romantic friendship with Beth 
Travis (Kristen Stewart, “Still 
Alice”), who teaches a law 
class. 

Livingston 
sits 
at 
the 

foothills 
of 
Yellowstone 

and is one of those railroad 
towns, developed in the early 
20th 
century 
as 
migrant 

workers moved westward in 
search of new employment 
opportunities. But in 2016, the 
city hasn’t grown much and 

is struggling to maintain its 
old charm, which fades fast 
as populations shift to nearby 
Bozeman 
or 
Billings, 
the 

latter of which gets a mention 
toward the film’s beginning. 
Those who stay have limited 
opportunities, 
little 
work 

and bleak lives, 
covered 
in 
a 

thin 
layer 
of 

early 
winter 

snow. 
Among 

the 
rugged 

mountains that 
frame 
their 

small city, each 
woman is forging 
a new path for 

herself, but the resources are 
slim.

Reichardt’s 
commitment 

to molasses-like pacing can 
prove a deterrent — especially 
considering 
not 
too 
much 

really happens in each segment 
— but the performances she 
coaxes out of her actors are 
nothing short of superb. Dern 
as 
an 
experienced 
lawyer 

without the trust of her client, 
Fuller (Jared Harris, “Mad 
Men”), exhibits a repressed 
frustration surely shared by 
the 
perennially 
overlooked. 

She slips between sympathy 
for Fuller and an irritation 
at his deranged mental state. 
Williams is quietly devastating, 
a wife and businesswoman 
angry with her husband for 
accidentally creating divides 
between her and her daughter, 
while 
Rene 
Auberjonois 

(“M*A*S*H”) 
easily 

(hauntingly even) transforms 
into a confused elderly man. 
Stewart, 
experiencing 
a 

critical renaissance of her own, 

is a natural fit in Reichardt’s 
whispered world, engaging in 
dialogue devoid of the artifice 
that plagues too many other 
films.

Cinematographer 

Christopher 
Blauvelt 

(“Indignation”) aptly captures 
Livingston’s bleakly stagnant 
citizens. The camera, almost 
never 
moving, 
focuses 
in 

on each character, allowing 
a full display of thoughts, 
emotions, feelings, questions 
and, importantly, decisions. 
Blauvelt’s photography is a 
cinematic 
Minnesota 
nice, 

granting each individual their 
due time that seems to move 
westward across the Dakotas. 
That stillness, though, can be 
sinister. In one segment at a 
crime scene, tension mounts 
and the scant editing can make 
the heart pound.

The nature of sparseness 

in this film is such that 
whenever frills are added, they 
naturally carry more weight, 
tipping Reichardt’s hand ever 
so slightly to prove what is 
important and, perhaps, what 
can be dismissed. Scored music 
plays prominently one time, 
at a heartbreaking juncture 
in the film’s last third. For 
Jamie a brief respite from her 
unending hours on the farm 
must come to an end, and she’s 
left despondent. So, too, are our 
other characters, in their own 
ways. Perhaps that solemnity is 
rooted in the nature of modern 
society’s treatment of women. 
Maybe it’s just Montana in 
the quiet winter. Reichardt, 
either way, is uniquely gifted 
at capturing that deep desire to 
escape.

DANIEL HENSEL

Daily Arts Writer

‘Certain Women’ taps into desires

Director Kelly Reinchardt charts four female lives in rural Montana

B+

“Certain Women”

Michigan Theater

IFC Films

FILM REVIEW

For any flourishing television 

series, intercharacter chemistry 
is essential. The budding romance 
between Jim and Pam on “The 
Office” drew its fair 
share of viewers 
to the series when 
it was still on air. 
The same goes for 
various other series 
such 
as 
“Parks 

and 
Recreation” 

and “The Mindy 
Project,” to name 
a 
few. 
In 
the 

aforementioned 
examples, 
intercharacter 
dynamics propelled 
the series forward for many 
successful seasons. Whether these 
relationships are pre-established 
or 
not, 
successful 
character 

pairings have the potential to 
decide the fate of an up-and-
coming series. Schematics aside, 
“Martha & Snoop’s Potluck Dinner 
Party” is a lesson in building 
character 
dynamics 
and 
the 

importance of chemistry, even if 
the show takes a while to build the 
stars’s chemistry.

Throwing 
Martha 
Stewart 

into a kitchen occupied by stoners 
probably wasn’t the brightest idea. 
It’s hard not to notice Stewart’s 
blatant lack of interest from the 
beginning — in fact, she looks as 
if she’d rather be anywhere else. 
Despite the unlikely friendship 
that formed between Martha and 
Snoop Dogg back in 2008 on her 

show “Martha,” the two look a 
little uncomfortable working with 
each other on a more permanent 
basis.

When guest star Seth Rogen 

(“Sausage 
Party”) 
comes 
on 

stage, you can still feel a hint 
of discomfort emanating from 

Stewart. However, 
you can also begin 
to see a thaw in her 
personality, as the 
added 
company 

takes the banter 
from scripted to 
friendly. 
Perhaps 

the 
original 

awkwardness was 
a 
by-product 
of 

first episode jitters. 
From 
their 
long 

history 
together, 

you 
can 
assume 

Martha and Snoop’s friendship 
has had proper time to grow, 
something that comes out as the 
episode progresses onward. Yet, 
as an alum of network cooking 
shows, Martha does come off 
as territorial, working hard to 
overcome the scripted banter only 
to ultimately fall back into old 
routines.

Getting past Stewart’s robotic 

mannerisms in the start of the 
episode, the duo soon falls into 
a rhythm — a slow one at first, 
but a rhythm nonetheless. By 
the time special guest stars Wiz 
Khalifa and Ice Cube join the 
duo on stage, the ambiance is 
friendly and funny. Stewart and 
Snoop progressed through the 
episode from territorial beasts of 
their own specialties to a well-
oiled machine, the (vegetable) oil 

creating a smooth flow between 
the stoner and former network 
homemaker, lightheartedly joking 
as they batter some chicken. It’s 
nice to see the sudden change, as it 
promises that the concept behind 
a cooking show starring a rapper 
and a homemaker could turn out 
as interesting as its title suggests.

What really stands out in 

“Potluck Dinner Party” is not the 
celebrity bake-off, but rather 
the interactions between the 
hosts and their respective guest 
stars. Not only do the guest stars 
provide a medium through which 
Snoop and Martha get into an 
off-the-teleprompter groove, but 
they also throw in some hilarious 
anecdotes throughout the show’s 
40 minute run time. The first 
episode itself is titled “Putting the 
Pot in Potluck,” which resonates 
well with Rogen, who jokingly 
brings a fire extinguisher onstage 
that is not intended for a cooking 
fire. The talk of the night is pot, 
and given some of the users 
onstage, you can only guess the 
shenanigans that ensue. So as 
the night rolls on and the drinks 
multiply, the quartet takes their 
food to a game of “Two Thighs 
and a Truth,” a play on the 
popular game “Two Lies and a 
Truth,” as Ice Cube judges their 
cooking masterpieces. Through 
the 
impromptu 
interactions 

which display a lightheartedness 
and genuine fun between the duo 
there is a shimmer of a hope that 
this eccentric cooking series has 
a shot at success in the coming 
episodes.

 

MEGAN MITCHELL

Daily Arts Writer

Stewart and Snoop serve a ‘Potluck’

Though an unlikely pair, VH1 finds mild success with cooking duo

B-

“Martha & Snoop’s 

Potluck Dinner 

Party”

Seson Premiere

Mondays at 10 p.m.

VH1

When 
Rostam 
Batmanglij 

announced his departure from 
indie staple Vampire Weekend, 
the 
community 

lamented. Many 
fans 
still 
do, 

but 
Rostam’s 

recent 
work 

with 
Hamilton 

Leithauser 
(former 
vocalist 

for The Walkmen) 
should 
put 
to 

rest any doubts 
about his future 
involvement 
in 

music and the quality of his work 
separate from Vampire Weekend. 
Now, with Leithauser, Rostam’s 
work sounds more traditional, 
inspired by oldies while remaining 
distinctly baroque in nature. On 
I Had A Dream That You Were 
Mine, the duo’s debut, plainly but 
carefully arranged piano, (slide) 
guitar, bass, exuberant percussion 
and the occasional organ provide 
a 
backdrop 
for 
Hamilton’s 

intrinsically emotive rasp.

Although the album recalls the 

work of American songwriters of 
old — Dylan and Cohen, especially 
— Hamilton and Rostam seem 
focused on not simply rehashing 
what has already been done 
so many times before. “Rough 
Going (I Won’t Let Up),” with it’s 
unashamed “sha-doobie sha-doo-
wop” backing, is perhaps the most 
immediate indication of the duo’s 
deeply unironic love for the gaudier 
music of North America’s past. 
“You Ain’t That Young Kid” echoes 
this love, with a classic harmonica-
and-piano opening, but exemplifies 
Hamilton and Rostam’s more 
modern approach. The song starts 
on harmonica, but transitions to a 
swinging slide guitar, then changes 

pace completely with a rolling, 
bass-driven melody and closes 
shortly after a brief harpsichord 
line, evidencing the pair’s musical 
comfort with the genre and its 
associated conventions.

As tends to be the trend with 

albums 
whose 

instrumentation 
invokes nostalgia, 
the lyrics follow 
suit. 
Focusing 

primarily on past 
relationships 
and wishes for 
what could have 
been, could be or 
might one day be, 
Hamilton’s vocals 
are appropriately 

melancholic. 
They 
provide 
a 

good balance for their relatively 
jubilant backing while skillfully 
avoiding the wallowing feeling 
often associated with nostalgia.

On 
“The 
Morning 
Stars” 

— a rambling, percussive ode 
to a past lover — Hamilton is 
the metaphorical ghost of his 
relationship, 
wondering 
who 

could possibly have replaced him. 
It is followed by “1959,” in which 
Hamilton sings of his mistakes 
in a relationship, reminiscing 
on inside jokes and reflecting 
on mortality, while coming to 
terms with his baser tendencies. 
The track also features Angel 
Deradoorian (formerly of Dirty 
Projectors), 
the 
sole 
guest 

appearance on the album.

Emotionally charged standout 

“The Bride’s Dad” is the brief 
narrative of a deadbeat, unkempt 
father singing at his daughter’s 
wedding. Nostalgia remains the 
dominating tone, but in a more 
playful sense than a sorrowful one 
here. The wedding guests are a 
mix of amused and uncomfortable 
as he’s escorted, crying, from the 
stage, but all he cares is that “(he) 
caught (his daughter) smile / From 

the corner of (his) eye.”

Songs like leading single “A 

1000 Times” and “In a Black 
Out” will draw listeners in with 
their straightforward poppiness 
and anthemic qualities, but the 
appeal of these two decreases 
with time. In “A 1000 Times,” a 
man wanders the streets of the 
city — New York? — and finds 
himself accidentally in front of 
an old lover’s house that has now 
been boarded up. The song is a 
rousing call, a passionate cry into 
the dark, but teeters on the edge 
of being repetitive. Meanwhile, 
“In a Black Out,” which is more or 
less the paragon of accessibility in 
a song — it was recently featured 
in a television ad for Apple, if that 
helps give you an idea —simply 
sticks out stylistically from the 
rest of the album. It sounds more 
like it was written to serve as proof 
that the duo knows how to craft an 
immediate earworm, while they 
would, on the whole, really rather 
not.

When all’s said and done, 

Hamilton and Rostam make a 
formidable pair. Hamilton’s voice 
— breaking, bending and soaring 
over Rostam’s straightforward 
piano 
— 
ensures 
that 
the 

sometimes cliché tropes employed 
still come across as genuine. The 
pair cover an impressive amount 
of ground, sonically speaking, and 
it is not difficult to imagine nearly 
any song on the album faring well 
as a single.

At the very least, I Had A 

Dream is an exciting new step for 
both Hamilton and Rostam, and 
one that should reassure fans of 
both artists’s previous and solo 
work. The album functions well 
as an anchor for the duo, a starting 
point that recalls both Vampire 
Weekend and The Walkmen while 
also establishing this new project 
and wiping clean the slate of 
stylistic expectations.

SEAN LANG

Daily Arts Writer

‘Dream’ a step forward for Rostam

In a collab with Hamilton Leithauser, ex-Vampire Weekend member soars

ALBUM REVIEW

B+

I Had A Dream That 

You Were Mine

Hamilton Leithauser 

+ Rostam

Glassnote Records

TV REVIEW