The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Wednesday, January 11, 2017 — 5A

‘Portlandia’ fails to match 
past seasons’ offerings

While latest season delivers on signature humor, a dependence on 
guests takes away from potential success and originality

‘La La Land’ and ‘Swing Time’ have a penchant for 

dreaminess and nostalgia that brings love for art to life

Following its fifth season, 

“Portlandia” was renewed for 
not one but two new seasons. 
IFC can’t get enough of Fred 
Armisen (“SNL”) and Carrie 
Brownstein (“Transparent”), 
the 
dynamic 
duo 
and 

co-creators/
stars 
of 
the 

sketch 
series. 

And neither can 
audiences. 
The 

show’s 
quirky 

comedy 
lives 

on the edge of 
the 
primarily 

parodic 
sketch 

humor 
it 

employs, 
with 

characters 
and 

scenes 
ranging 

from 
affably 

satirical 
to 
grotesquely 

bizarre.

Yet after seven seasons, it’s 

become clear that Armisen and 
Brownstein have no shortage 
of crazy comedy to dole out 
within a structure that serves 
boundlessly as a vessel for 
their original content. Their 
sketches 
turn 
themselves 

and their audiences on their 
heads, 
employing 
every 

sharp tool of wit and over-
the-top 
performance 
to 

push the boundaries of their 
fictionalized 
version 
of 

Portland, Ore. 

While 
the 
miscellany 

of content and apt parody 
typically work to the benefit 
of the show’s inexhaustible 
writing and humor, the season 
premiere suffered under the 
lack of a cohesive tone. As 
we’re shuffled from scene 
to scene, one sketch swells 
from subtle, acute humor to 
slapstick visual comedy and 
subsequent 
disappointment 

for both its fictional characters 
and the audience at home.

Perhaps this last sketch 

is designed self-reflexively, 
poking fun at the difficulty 
of engrossing storytelling. In 
it, Armisen and Brownstein 
play a couple desperate to 
dazzle dinner guests with an 

impressive 
anecdote. 
After 

hearing their friends recount 
how Tom Hanks pretended 
to mug them in Venice, the 
couple 
goes 
to 
extreme 

lengths, soliciting the help 
of a performing arts teacher 
(Claire Danes, “Homeland”) 
to instruct them in the art of 
dramatic storytelling.

However, the result of their 

efforts is less art and more 

artifice. 
The 

couple 
shocks 

their 
guests 

with a dramatic 
retelling 
(drum 

beating 
and 

vibraslap ringing 
included) of what 
is likely the most 
anticlimactic 
story ever told, 
bringing 
the 

sketch’s 
short 

life to an equally 
unsatisfying 

end. Though it’s clear what 
the sketch is getting at, its 
predictable (albeit kind of 
funny) arc falls flat.

Another sketch that fails 

to fulfill its comedic promise, 
despite its amusing pretense, 
is Armisen and Brownstein’s 
depiction 
of 
a 
couple 
of 

another kind: the goth Vince 
and Jacqueline. As they flip 
back 
and 
forth 
between 

deceptively dark personas and 
Bed, Bath & Beyond-loving 
stock characters — sometimes 
abruptly though often too 
subtly — the two meander 
through what ultimately turns 
out to be a half-baked sketch. 
At each turn, it falls short of 
its promise to be funny. The 
Bed, Bath & Beyond employee, 
seems as unfazed by the 
characters’ bizarre behavior 
as we’re expected to feel, 
but the discrepancy between 
reality 
versus 
expectation 

just doesn’t achieve the full 
comedic impact the sketch is 
designed to accomplish.

In an even more pointless 

one-part sketch – a commercial 
selling children’s toys made 
out of “100 percent organic” 
men’s beards to expose them 
to germs early on – the strange 
humor falls short of making its 
point or making us laugh. It’s 

sly and it’s snarky, like much 
of “Portlandia” ’s best, but it’s 
a little too on-the-nose.

However, the series still 

benefits 
from 
the 
aid 
of 

returning 
guest 
stars 
like 

Natasha Lyonne (“Orange Is 
The New Black”) and Vanessa 
Bayer (“Saturday Night Live”), 
who help bring the show’s 
unconventional 
characters 

and scenarios to life with 
convincing dynamism.

After Bayer, playing a tired 

traveler, arrives at her hotel, 
she is met by the the bell boy 
(Armisen), who relentlessly 
explains the use and and 
function of every single hotel 
room item, from the light 
switches to the bathrobes. 
He 
even 
embellishes 
his 

demonstrations 
with 
little 

theatrical bits, much to the 
weary guest’s vexation. The 
simple play on conventional 
hotel 
check-in 
experiences 

taken to the extreme is a prime 
example of one of the show’s 
better 
executed 
sketches. 

The premise sets a perfect 
background 
against 
which 

Armisen 
demonstrates 
his 

idiosyncratic humor and Bayer 
plays the great sport that goes 
along with it all (that is, until 
she flings herself out her hotel 
window only to be caught by 
Armisen, who she’s trying to 
escape form in the first place).

Though the series premiere 

isn’t a shining example of 
Armisen’s 
and 
Brownstein’s 

distinct talents, it nonetheless 
delivers a compelling enough 
sequence 
of 
sketches 
that 

convey their keen awareness of 
the ingrained and unfortunate 
circumstances of our society. 
While 
not 
laugh-out-loud 

hilarious, it still entertains. 
I’m 
not 
convinced 
though 

that the comedic duo is by any 
means settling. The best part 
of “Portlandia” is that we never 
know what to expect, and that’s 
precisely the quality that a show 
nearing its end must hold on to 
if it’s to make a charming and 
memorable exit. Luckily, we 
have a full season to look ahead 
to and Armisen and Brownstein 
aren’t going anywhere anytime 
soon — except to Bed, Bath & 
Beyond, that is. 

IFC

If you’d like to usher Matt Gallatin’s demise, please email anay@umich.edu promptly.

SHIR AVINADAV

Daily Arts Wrtier

All Things Reconsidered:
Looking back on ‘FWN’

As we enter 2017, it seems 

only fitting to look back on 
some 
of 
the 
most 
pivotal 

albums from the year 2007, 
now shockingly a decade ago. 
As I was a mere eleven years old 
at the time, my music taste was 
still very questionable, and I’m 
not going to go into detail about 
the albums I listened to back 
then (Linkin Park, anyone?). 
Instead, a brief Google search 
tells 
me 
that 
the 
Arctic 

Monkeys’ sophomore album, 
Favourite 
Worst 
Nightmare, 

was released that year. At the 
time of its release, there was a 
lot of pressure on the band to 
produce something as strong 
as their record-breaking first 
album, Whatever People Say 
I Am, That’s What I’m Not. 
Of course, this pressure was 
unnecessary — the album has 
since gone triple platinum in 
the UK.

From the first chords of 

FWN, it’s loud, brash and very 
fast. This is the ‘classic’ Arctic 
Monkeys’ sound that so many 
people fell in love with, and 
it’s a defining album of indie 
rock in the mid-late ‘00s. The 
band is now a regular festival 
headliner, and it’s hard to 
imagine they were destined for 
anything else when listening 
to this album. The songwriting 
prowess has been there from 

the very start. If you stripped 
the album to just a single 
instrument, it would still be a 
great listen.

In stand out track “505,” 

a song about romance and 
distance — the remnants of 
the band’s long world tour 
before this album is clear. This 
is a more cultured band than 

they were in their debut, and 
it shows in nearly all of the 
tracks. Frontman Alex Turner 
seems more self-aware, and 
the 
instrumentals 
carry 
a 

wide array of influences, like 
The Smiths and Oasis. This is 
an album that was written on 
the fly, with nearly half the 
tracks performed and played 
live before the album was even 
released. But, for such a speedy 
release and apparently thrown-
together track list, there are 
no signs of sloppiness. With 
perfect production, there is 
no drop in quality from their 
debut album.

Although 
musically 
FWN 

still stands on its own, some of 
the lyrics are somewhat jarring, 
even ironic now. Turner has 

always written about “fakes” 
and “the industry” with an 
outsider’s 
perspective 
(see: 

“Fake Tales of San Francisco” 
from 
their 
debut, 
and 

“Brianstorm” from FWN). But 
considering where the Arctic 
Monkeys are now, that struggle 
with the concept of fame feels 
odd in retrospect — they’re 
now 
a 
major, 
mainstream 

band. Compared to their most 
recent album, AM, which has 
songs about Alexa Chung, and 
others inspired by Drake and 
Lil Wayne, this album is a large 
jump in tone. FWN era Arctic 
Monkeys were those cool indie 
kids from Sheffield who built 
a following on Myspace. On 
AM, Arctic Monkeys have all 
moved to Los Angeles and now 
ride motorcycles in the Mojave 
desert in their free time.

Clearly, artistic progression 

isn’t a bad thing, and the band 
is an example of that. With the 
several albums between FWN 
and AM, Arctic Monkeys have 
showcased all manners of style, 
and the individual members 
of the bands have explored 
their 
own 
voice 
(drummer 

Matt Helders played for Diddy 
under an alias). It’s a testament 
to just how good this band has 
been throughout their varied, 
decade-long existence. You can 
still go to an indie night club 
and hear “Brianstorm” sung 
back to the DJ, almost word 
for word, ten years later. That’s 
how you know you’ve written a 
classic.

MEGAN WILLIAMS

Daily Arts Writer

A Technicolor World

Made Out of Music & Machine

In my elementary school 

music class, in addition to 
learning to play the recorder — 
and we played a lot 
of recorder — each 
year we watched 
one movie musical. 
In the third grade 
it 
was 
“Singin’ 

in the Rain.” It’s 
hard even now to 
describe 
what 
it 

felt like to watch 
something like that 
for the first time. 
Sitting on the choir 
risers, 
craning 

my neck to watch 
from the small VCR-only TV 
hanging from the corner of 
the ceiling. It reminds me of 
a poem by Marilyn Nelson, 
in which she recalls hearing 
poetry for the first time. The 
room melted away, and it was 
just me and Gene Kelly and 
Debbie Reynolds.

I have been looking all over 

for that feeling. And I have 
found it here and there, in 
moments of other movies. But 
rarely (almost never) as wholly 
as I did when watching “La La 
Land.”

Recently in my columns, I 

have praised a lot of movies 
for 
being 
“anti-referential,” 

which, in addition to being 
pretentious as hell, I defined as 
movies that exist on their own, 
without homage or reference 
to film history. Movies without 
acknowledgement 
of 
the 

base they were built upon — 
movies wholly unlike those of 
Tarantino, which exist, almost 
entirely, as a series of film 
references and homages.

“La La Land” isn’t “anti-

referential” (and really, nothing 
can 
be); 
it’s 
anti-cynical. 

It’s 
purely, 
unabashedly 

enthusiastic. It loves without 
embarrassment the foundation 
it was built upon. When Ryan 
Gosling slides around that light 
post I could feel in my chest 

the smallest of flickers, a little 
spark of love.

“La La Land” is a film built 

on a foundation of 
love, one that pulses 
through every shot, 
every beat and every 
note.

And it wasn’t just 

another movie about 
the magic of movies; it 
was a movie that was 
magic. 
That’s 
why, 

as I left the theater, 
I was overwhelmed 
with emotion. Movies 
like “La La Land” 
remind me why I love 

what I love.

Something I want to do 

more is give suggestions for 
companion pieces for recent 
movies I have loved. I have a 
pairing suggestion for “La La 
Land.” For maximum effect, 
read Zadie Smith’s latest novel, 
“Swing Time.” The book is 
about two girls, both dancers. 
One “has it” and the other does 
not. But Smith chooses to give 
voice to the one who is never 
going to make it as a dancer. 
Through her, the audience 
sees the world through the 
eyes of someone who loves 
dance, and more specifically 
movies about dance — the very 
same Fred Astaire and Ginger 
Rodgers-type thing that has 
its fingerprints all over “La La 
Land.”

Much like “La La Land,” 

“Swing Time” is interested 
in the way art, especially 
film and dance, shape our 
understanding of the world. 
Much of how the narrator sees 
and interacts with the world 
is shaped by the musicals she 
watched as a child. She talks 
about these movies in a way 
that mirrors how I found 
myself talking about “La La 
Land.” At one point she notes: 
“The opera-like comings and 
goings, the reversals of fortune, 
the outrageous meet cutes and 

coincidences.... To me they were 
only roads leading to the dance. 
The story was the price you 
paid for the rhythm.” This is, 
of course, the perfect rebuttal 
to the argument that the plot 
of “La La Land” is unrealistic. 
The plot is not the point! The 
point is the spectacle that the 
plot lets happen, the song and 
dance, the pure splendor of the 
whole production.

Another thing the two share 

is a certain self-awareness 
of their own nostalgia and 
the danger that that kind of 
dreaminess carries. It seems, at 
first, in “La La Land” that Mia’s 
is more enthralled in her own 
nostalgia — early shots of her 
stand out for their saturated 
colors and her final ballad is an 
ode to the “fools who dream.” 
But, 
it’s 
Sebastian’s 
brand 

of nostalgia, as well as the 
desperation that accompanies 
it, 
that 
becomes 
crippling. 

He’s so wedded to his own 
idea of what jazz needs to be 
that he can’t adapt his dreams 
to the reality of his world. His 
nostalgia becomes his ethos 
and Mia must leave him behind 
— surrounded, quite literally, 
by relics of the past — as she 
moves forwards toward her 
own success.

The 
narrator 
in 
“Swing 

Time” falls somewhere close to 
Sebastian’s breed of nostalgia, 
although hers is a little more 
complex. It’s nostalgia both 
for the art (in this case, movie 
musicals) of her childhood, 
but also the childhood itself 
and the friendship she has that 
colors most of that time.

Although 
perhaps 
more 

the darker cousin than “La 
La Land” ’s true companion, 
“Swing Time” is enhanced 
by and in turn enhances the 
viewing of the movie. I cannot 
suggest 
either 
one 
highly 

enough.

MADELEINE

GAUDIN 

Senior Arts Editor

FILM COLUMN
TV REVIEW

B-

“Portlandia”

Season 7 Premiere

 IFC

Thursdays at 10 

p.m.

WE HAVE OUR OWN QUESADILLA 
MAKER. AIN’T THAT SOMETHING? 

If you like quasi-Mexican food ill-prepared by student journalists, please contact us at 

anay@umich.edu or npzak@umich.edu

MUSIC NOTEBOOK

Arctic Monkeys’ loud and brash second record, ten years later

This is a more 
cultured band 

than they were in 

their debut

