6 — Wednesday,January 4, 2016
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

There’s an acute heartbreak

when something you love doesn’t
receive the recognition you know
it deserves. It’s a dagger in your
overflowing heart. This year, that
album was Pinegrove’s debut
Cardinal, a refreshing blend of
folky indie-rock that failed to
reach the radar of most of Daily
Music’s
staff.

As
Pinegrove

sing themselves:
“How come every
outcome’s such a
comedown?”

Cardinal
is

a
collection

of eight songs
which
embody

the
art
of

emotional
construction
in
music.
It

explores self-doubt, uncertainty
and the search for a voice. It
achieves tenderness in baring
these emotions, and over the
30-minute journey it fleshes
them out through the dynamism
in each individual track.

Pinegrove’s music is pure

magic because it creates a sense
of understanding, while feeling
fresh and unfamiliar at the same
time. The band and its music is
a like brooding, misunderstood
kid who you feel like you, and
only you, completely understand
— a poem personally written for
your unraveling.

Pinegrove also knows exactly

when to switch gears, uplifting
with resounding bridges and
coming
down
with
tender

melodies. The band is able to
create
imagery
that’s
vivid,

but never fully tangible to the
listener. It’s beauty comes from
that feeling of unattainability,
found in the music’s ambiguity.

Cardinal is full of these

magical moments, where I was
often completely consumed by
the emotion the music translated.
It’s
shocking
how
perfectly

their
individual
instruments

and
voices
blend

into
harmony.

Take “Aphasia,” for
example: it climaxes
with the pure gang
vocals of “One day I
won’t need your love
/ one day I won’t
define myself by the
one I’m thinking
of,”
delivering
a

stunning
desire

for
self-worth
in

the
form
of
an

emotional sucker punch that is
entirely relatable, but sonically
unfamiliar.

The
band’s
true
charm

comes from their ability to
use their indie vibe to make
the insecurities of emo music
accessible. You would expect
lyrics like “I saw your boyfriend
at the Port Authority / it’s a sort
of fucked up place” in a pop-
punk song, not on a country-
esque indie rock album. Cardinal
is transcendent in that it’s bred
from
punk
sensibilities
and

within the punk scene, but is still
well received by pretty much
anyone with functional hearing.

Examined with a critical

ear,
Cardinal
becomes
a

wonderful bouquet of sounds.

Twinkly guitars dance amongst
underpinning rhythm chords,
tempos falter and hasten on
quick whims, all underneath
lyricism
that
is
sometimes

cryptic, and sometimes blunt to
the point of surprise.

“Cadmium,” a song inspired

by “I Send You this Cadmium
Red, ” a book of correspondence
between artists John Berger
and John Christie, discusses
non-verbal expression and it’s
inner turmoil, along with the
difficulty of self-expression and
its
subsequent
vulnerability.

The album cover is also inspired
by the book, and Pinegrove
borrows heavily from its theme
of
communication
through

art. Evan Stephens Hall cries
out on the chorus, “Say what
it is / it’s so impossible / but if
I just say what it is / it tends
to sublimate away.” At once
poetic
and
straightforward,

Hall’s lyrics are relatable at
the most personal level. Hall
wants to better express himself
in his art, a daunting task until
accomplished.

On
Cardinal,
Pinegrove

achieves some of the highest
level of emotional expression
in
music
today.
Through

expertly crafted composition,
reverberating vocals and starkly
human lyrics, Pinegrove finds
their niche and makes their
voices heard. Most impressively,
the
album
transforms
what

might
be
surprising
and

meticulous music into some of
the most approachable tunes
of 2016. It’s an album that
should’ve had everyone’s radar
going haywire.









Run for Cover Records

Eenie-meenie-minnie-white boy

DOMINIC POLSINELLI

Daily Arts Writer

Don’t Sleep on Pinegrove

Damien Chazelle loves jazz.

It would seem, after writing and
directing three films dedicated
to the music, it’s his entire life’s
purpose to renew interest in
the genre. First there was “Guy
and Madeline on a Park Bench,”
a
grainy
black-and-white

musical, then his breakout
film, “Whiplash,” a tale of
an aspiring jazz drummer’s
stunning
descent

into
madness

at
the
hands

of
a
psychotic

instructor.
And

now, there’s “La
La Land,” a jazz
musical and lovely
throwback to the
’40s and ’50s films
of Gene Kelly, as
well as the ’60s
wave
of
French

musicals.
It’s
a

film so delightful
— and with an
ending
sequence

so spectacular — that it’s
impossible to resist its grasp.

“La La Land” is set in

Hollywood over the course
of one year as two struggling
artists — Mia Dolan (Emma
Stone, “Birdman”), an actress,
and Sebastian Wilder (Ryan
Gosling, “The Nice Guys”), a
jazz pianist — repeatedly cross
paths and fall in love. Chazelle’s
Hollywood is a bottleneck
of talent. The opening of the
film is a technically audacious
dance number on the jammed
Los Angeles Freeway, with
aspiring
singers,
actors,

writers
and
everyone
in

between
literally
jumping

out of their cars at rapidly
changing opportunities. Mia
and Sebastian are consumed by
their own troubles; Mia never
finds
success
in
auditions,

while Sebastian wants to revive
his beloved genre by opening
a jazz club, but doesn’t have a
steady job. The duo’s mutual
commiseration over their craft
blossoms into love.

The middle third of the film

meanders through Mia and
Sebastian’s romance as their
relationship starts to strain.
The music dies out as Sebastian
goes on the road with a band
started by an old friend, Keith,
played by distinguished R&B
artist John Legend, and the
film begins to feel a bit slow. But
on second viewing, the middle
segment plays more as an
eloquent rubato, hastening and
slowing to fit the narrative’s
needs. The film doesn’t drag;

it’s
deliberate.

Nothing
is

particularly
unnecessary (in
fact, if anything
I wanted to see
more of Mia’s
struggles
to

launch her one-
woman
show),

and with acting
as
sublime
as

that
by
Stone

and Gosling, it’s
pretty hard to

feel bored.

Chazelle’s

writing
is

excellent, taking
the
film
from

tenderness
to

the
heights

of
comedy
in

mere
minutes,

if not seconds.
The characters,
especially
the

secondary
and
tertiary

characters,
are

fully
developed

within
a
line

or two, but all
are
endlessly

complex.
As

for
Mia
and

Sebastian,
there’s a bit of an
imbalance;
the

film may begin
with Mia, and we may see the
world through her eyes, but
Sebastian is given more of an
opportunity to share his craft.
We see him play constantly,
even an entire performance (of

a phenomenal song written and
performed by Legend) with
The Messengers, Keith’s band,
while Mia’s one-woman show
is omitted.

Chazelle
shot
the
film

in
Cinemascope,
a
grand

widescreen
technology

predominant
in
the
1950s,

when Hollywood churned out
large-scale epics one after
the other. It’s a great idea in
“La La Land,” a film that has
a fair amount of spectacle,
but
even
more
intimacy.

These characters dream in
Cinemascope.
Mia
sleeps

under a giant poster of Ingrid
Bergman. Sebastian plans to
name his jazz club “Chicken on
a Stick” after Charlie Parker’s
favorite meal, and he collects
the overlooked artifacts that
dotted his idols’ lives.

Like the film’s rose-colored

vision of jazz, the film industry
is in great jeopardy. The mid-
range budget film is dying and
streaming and television are

both supplanting
the theater. But
“La La Land” may
be its saving grace,
or at least a herald
of things to come.
“La
La
Land”

is
a
film
that

demands
to
be

seen, and reseen
and
reseen,
in

the theater, with
bright
primary

reds
and
blues

highlighted
by

Linus Sandgren’s
(“Joy”)
soaring

cinematography,
and an exquisite
soundtrack
by
Chazelle’s

college
friend

Justin
Hurwitz

(“Whiplash”).
Hurwitz’s music,
like
the
couple

dancing
around

a Foucault pendulum twirling
in a wonderful sequence in
Griffith Observatory, swings
between two poles, or two
souls, endlessly in love.









Summit Entertainment

I’m crying again just looking at this

DANIEL HENSEL

Daily Film Editor

Jazz in a city of stars brings Damien Chazelle’s masterpiece to life

“La La Land” presents a dazzling
musical for the new millennium

FILM REVIEW

The “Star Wars” revival is

in full-force, but for many, the
Force never died. Last year, fans
were bestowed with “The Force
Awakens,” one of the best films
in the series since “Return of
the Jedi.” With Episodes VIII
and IX still to come, along with
Han Solo and Boba Fett spin-
off movies, fans can anticipate
lots of entertaining content.
Although some feel anxious
about the new movies mostly
due to the lackluster prequel
trilogy, it seems the world
is in for a future filled with
intergalactic
bliss.
“Rogue

One” is the beginning of what
could be a supply of satisfying
Star Wars anthology movies.

“Rogue One” is essentially

Episode 3.5; it takes place
after the Jedi-genocide, but
before
the
introduction
of

Luke
Skywalker.
Although

most characters are new, there
are some familiar faces. Darth
Vader (voiced again by James
Earl Jones ) and
a
realistic
CGI

version of Grand
Moff Tarkin (Guy
Henry
“Harry

Potter
and
the

Deathly Hallows”)
play minor roles
in
the
story,

though both have
enough
screen

time
to
satisfy

longtime
fans.

New protagonists
Jyn
Erso

(Felicity
Jones,

“The Theory of
Everything”)
and
Cassian

Andor
(Diego
Luna,
“Y

Tu
Mamá
También”)
act

as
multidimensional
and

convincing heroes to root for in
their fight against the Empire.
Alan Tudyk (“Zootopia”) voices

K-2SO,
an
Imperial
droid

reprogrammed
to
fight
for

the rebels, who is one of the

best
additions

to
the
“Star

Wars”
series.

Like C-3PO, he
balances intellect
and
cynicism

perfectly, and his
cheesy jokes and
sassy
remarks

make K-2SO one
of the funniest
“Star
Wars”

characters
to

date.

Unlike
other

“Star
Wars”

movies, there is
an
overarching

sense
of
doom

and imminent failure. “Rogue
One” shows a struggling Rebel
Force that does not have the
means to defend itself against
enemy forces. Other movies in
the series tend to have a sense

of hope, even in situations
least deserving of it. “Rogue
One” shows glimpses of it, but
remains the gloomiest in the
series.

The story of

“Rogue One” is
complex while
remaining
coherent.
Someone
who

has never seen
a “Star Wars”
movie
could

pick up the plot
just
as
easily

as
a
diehard

fanatic, though
the latter may
find the minor
nuances
more

enjoyable.
Among
the

intense
battle

scenes and stunning settings,
“Rogue
One”
challenges

the idea that in the cosmic
fight between good and evil,

the line between right and
wrong, is clear. The “good
guys” in the movie are a group
varying from Imperial pilots
to
reprogrammed
Imperial

droids
and

disobedient
Rebel soldiers.
“Rogue One” is
the first “Star
Wars”
movie

to show a two-
sided
Rebel

Force that is
not strictly a
representation
of good.

“Rogue

One”
diverts

enough
from

the
typical

“Star
Wars”

formula while
remaining

faithful to the tropes that
make them so fun. Fans will
be relieved that no Jar Jar
Binks
replicas
or
cringe-

worthy romantic subplots are
introduced.
Every
addition

is justified and fits into the
“Star Wars” timeline perfectly.
Still, since the movie is not
a part of the main series,
more could have been done to
distinguish it from the others.
This was a golden opportunity
for director Gareth Edwards
(“Godzilla”)
to
incorporate

some unique cinematography
and
experimentation
that

would have made it clearer that
“Rogue One” is just an addition
to the series. In many ways,
“Rogue One” plays it too safe.
Nonetheless, the special effects
provide a thrill.

“Rogue One” is certainly not

the best “Star Wars” movie, but
it’s a welcomed addition to the
franchise. Diehard fans now
have some material to keep
them happy until the eighth
installment is released in 2017.
Until then, expectations are
high for what’s to come.

“One” is satisfyingly safe

WILL STEWART

Daily Arts Writer










Walt Disney Studios

It’s like war, but in SPACE

A

“Rogue One”

Quality/Rave

Walt Disney
Studio Motion

Pictures

It seems the
world is in
for a future
filled with
intergalactic

bliss.

A

“La La Land”

Michigan

Theater/Quality/

Rave

Summit

Entertainment

The middle

segment

plays more as
an eloquent

rubato,

hastening and
slowing to fit
the narrative’s

needs.

Cardinal

Pinegrove

Run for
Cover

ALBUM REVIEW