2B — Thursday, January 12, 2017
the b-side
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

‘Lion’ flawed but evocative

UofMixtape: Cold Open

Oscar bait is a funny thing, 

isn’t it? The notion of film 
for the purpose of awards 
attraction 
is 
troubling, 
not 

only because the film’s quality 
may be affected 
by 
studio 
or 

distributor 
attempts to make 
it more palatable 
or 
moving, 
but 

because the entire 
content of a film is 
dependent on its 
supposed “social 
importance.” 
Consider 
the 

advertisements 
that 
appeared 

across 
Los 
Angeles 
before 

the 
Oscars 
in 
support 
of 

“The Imitation Game,” the 
2014 biopic of gay computer 
science pioneer Alan Turing. 
“Honor this man,” read the 
advertisement. But that’s not 
the film’s fault (though, no 
doubt, the screenplay, with 
its repetitive “inspirational” 
platitudes, had Oscar gold on 
its mind); the problem with the 
Oscar bait-centered criticism 
is that it can deride a perfectly 
good movie.

“Lion” might be one of those 

movies — which is a shame, 
because 
it’s 
emotionally 

powerful and well-constructed, 
and doomed to a marketing 
campaign 
that 
directs 

filmgoers to see this movie 
because 
it’s 
an 
Important 

Movie. “Lion” begins a few 
decades ago in an Indian slum, 
where 
Saroo 
(the 
aborable 

young newcomer Sunny Pawar) 
becomes separated from his 

brother 
at 
a 
train 
station. 

Saroo goes looking for his big 
brother and ends up napping 
on a stationary train, which 
later begins to move across the 
country. Saroo, lost in Calcutta, 
where the natives speak Bengali, 
not Hindu, bounces from a home 
to a group of children on the 

street to, finally, 
an 
orphanage, 

from which Saroo 
is 
later 
adopted 

by 
the 
Brierley 

family, a couple 
from 
Australia 

(Nicole 
Kidman, 

“Genius,” 
and 

David 
Wenham, 

“300: Rise of an 
Empire”).

The first half of 

“Lion” is some of 

the best filmmaking of the year. 
Pawar’s performance is riveting, 
perhaps because he doesn’t fall 
for any of the typical mistakes 
child actors do, namely line 
recitation rather than acting. 
Pawar is not only convincing 
as 
the 
young 
Saroo, 
he’s 

captivating. So is his brother, 
Guddu (another first-time actor, 
Abhisek Bharate), but he’s given 
considerably less screen time, 
understandably. Greig Fraser’s 
(“Rogue One: A Star Wars 
Story”) cinematography is partly 
responsible, transforming an all-
too-typical cinematic image of 
Indian poverty (see: “Slumdog 
Millionaire”) into breathtaking 
storytelling. It’s all the more 
surprising that the film was 
directed by Garth Davis, who 
only has a few short films under 
his belt, and no feature films. 
Davis demonstrates a mastery 
of the camera, especially in the 
first half, that should serve as a 
calling card for years to come.

“Lion” 
finds 
its 
premise 

in the second half, where a 
20-something 
Saroo 
(Dev 

Patel, “The Man Who Knew 
Infinity”) — adorned with a 
mane of long hair that, perhaps, 
hints at the film’s title — has 
all but renounced his Indian 
heritage, proudly boasting his 
Australian upbringing. But it’s 
the mid-2000s, the inception 
of the information age, and 
when someone mentions Google 
Earth, then new, the idea of 
locating his home strikes at 
Saroo. The film thus becomes 
a procedural, long takes of 
Saroo obsessively working on 
his 
computer, 
mapping 
out 

the region and possible train 
routes. He descends into a sort of 
chaotic fugue state; he becomes 
aggressive towards his girlfriend, 
Lucy (an uncharacteristically 
bland Rooney Mara, “Carol”). 
He doesn’t get along with his 
adopted 
brother, 
also 
from 

India, who did not adjust as 
well twenty years before. The 
second half is stuffed with these 
tropes of procedural drama, 
and it proves rather distracting. 
Screenwriters (in this case, Luke 
Davies, who also wrote last year’s 
“Life”) often must take dramatic 
liberties with source material, 
but must it be so melodramatic?

But the power of “Lion” is 

indisputable. 
Its 
emotional 

potency is in no small indebted to 
its heartbreaking subject matter 
— just imagine mysteriously 
losing your family with no 
closure — but Davis’s direction, 
far 
superior 
to 
Davies’s 

screenplay, breathes life into a 
fascinating story, which could 
have made for an otherwise 
achingly dull movie in another 
director’s hands.

B+

“Lion”

The Weinstein 

Company

Quality 16

What you have here, folks, is 

one hour and fourteen minutes 
of frustration, sadness, and 
longing (in more or less that 
order). The finest collection 
of melancholy this side of 
the Mississippi, if I do say so 
myself. These are the songs 
that soundtrack my late walks 
in the falling snow — the less 
visibility, the better. This is the 
music in which I find comfort 
during long drives, the snow 
not only piled high on the sides 
of the road, but obscuring the 
street itself, challenging our 
tax dollars to wake someone up 
at three or four or five in the 
morning so that we don’t lose 
our minds come morning rush 
hour.

The 
playlist 
begins 
with 

harsher 
sounds 
— 
the 

unforgiving 
guitar 
riff 
on 

“Sister” is a recent favorite, 
Cloud 
Nothings’ 
distorted 

power-punk album features a 
cover reminiscent of a ski lodge 
(a detail that has always had 
an important bearing on how I 
hear their music), the bombast 

of Preoccupations’ “Continental 
Shelf” features chunky guitars 
and 
stark 
production, 
and 

Will Toledo’s work as Car Seat 
Headrest is pleasantly fuzzy 
lo-fi.

Songs by Ypsilanti-local Fred 

Thomas 
and 
The 
National-

soundalike 
Black 
English 

provide 
the 
transition 
to 

acoustic, where Pedro The Lion 
begin the “sadness” portion 
of the ‘list. The 
Microphones’ 
“I 
Want 
Wind 

To 
Blow” 
is 

an 
unhurried, 

cluttered 
piece, 

juxtaposed 
with 
the 
quiet 

urgency of Super 
City’s “Run The 
Home.” 
Next, 

we 
introduce 

quiet urgency to 
electric guitar (and a full band) 
with Rainbow Kitten Surprise’s 
poignant “Cold Love” — just 
wait for those harmonies in the 
final minute.

From here, we enter the 

“longing” portion, beginning 
with a chamber-pop detour 
featuring the likes of Stars, 
Beirut, and San Fermin, as well 

as a track by Owen Pallett (whose 
work is appropriate in context, 
but too experimental for me to 
comfortably label “chamber-
pop”). Net we have an arguably 
indulgent pair of songs, “Too 
Much” by Sampha — a piano-
and-vocals-only version of the 
Drake song (which Sampha 
helped write and produce) — 
and “Sweet Chin Music” by 
Milo, a whimsical downbeat 

rap that casually 
samples a Bon 
Iver song.

Rounding 

out 
the 
final 

fourteen minutes 
is 
the 
glitchy 

“Murmurs,” the 
hollow-sounding 
“Chamakay” 
with 
its 
oddly 

dark 
vibe, 
the 

excellent, pared-

down 
“Chinatown” 
from 

Girlpool’s even more excellent 
2015 debut and, finally, “Coldest 
Night of the Year,” by Vashti 
Bunyan (probably most well 
known for her collaboration 
with 
Animal 
Collective), 
a 

track which I’ll readily admit I 
may or may not have tacked on 
for novelty.

DANIEL HENSEL

Daily Film Editor

SEAN LANG

Daily Arts Writer

Do you ever experience 

that feeling when you open 
your 
refrigerator 
to 
find 

that you have absolutely no 
desire to make what you 
would normally make with 
the items before you? Does 
a gloom settle over you? Do 
you then pray to the food 
gods for inspiration to strike, 
awaiting the deliverance of 
an 
important, 
life-altering 

culinary message from above?

I found myself precisely 

in 
this 
position 

just 
a 
few 
days 

ago, staring into a 
refrigerator packed 
with items I had 
no 
right 
moping 

over. But just as 
you 
look 
into 
a 

bursting 
closet 

without 
a 
clue 

what to wear, you 
may find yourself 
looking into your 
food supplies at a 
standstill — feeling 
hungry and lackluster. 

But just as this feeling 

began to settle in, growing 
more pressing with each growl 
emitted 
by 
my 
frustrated 

stomach (if it could talk, it 
would have probably said 
“Just feed me already”), an 
idea took form in my head — 
a beautiful, appetizing idea. 
At that moment, I decided to 
make pierogis. 

Yeah, I bet you didn’t see 

that coming. 

Some 
people 
have 

photographic memory; most 
people, like myself, have just a 
normal memory. But because 
it’s in my nature to constantly 
be thinking about food, I have 
a peculiar habit of recalling 
bygone recipes at a moment’s 
notice. 

This time, I remembered 

seeing a recipe for caramelized 
onion and mushroom pierogi 
that had stood out to me while 
browsing the many appetizing 
recipes concocted by online 
food bloggers. I remembered 
that the dough seemed fairly 
easy, 
requiring 
just 
flour 

and yogurt (in addition to 
the eggs, water, oil and salt I 
already had on hand). I also 
remembered that it sounded 
freaking amazing, and long 
ago, I had tucked it away in 
some abandoned bookmark 
or Pinterest board like the 
countless 
other 
recipes 
I 

excitedly resolved to make 
before saving them for later. 

So, after the recipe that 

had faded from my memory 
suddenly 
sprung 
back 
to 

mind, I got to work 
by assembling my 
already 
available 

ingredients before 
making the little 
Polish 
dumplings. 

Pierogis remind me 
of 
my 
grandma’s 

kreplach (a Jewish 
dumpling 
filled 

with 
meat), 
only 

layered 
and 

typically filled with 
potato and cheese 
instead. 
Perhaps 

the methods of preparation 
are similar, but they both 
comprise the collection of old-
school recipes brought over 
by families from countries 
outside the U.S. and passed on 
through generations. Therein 
lies the essence of comfort 
food, and the appeal of both 
making and consuming the 
pierogi. 

The 
dough 
required 

surprisingly minimal effort 
and was easy to handle (aside 
from my practiced pie dough 
making, 
I’m 
pretty 
much 

doomed when it comes to 
dough). I sautéed my onions, 
garlic and mushrooms in a pan 
before adding the spinach and 
letting the leaves wilt in the 
pan of steaming vegetables. I 
took a lot of liberty with this 
step of the process, opting 
to stray from the recipe’s 
filling and make a simplified 
version suited to my own taste 
instead — adding goat cheese 
and spinach in place of the 
prerequisite mashed potato. 

Finally, the pierogi dough 

was ready to be rolled out, cut 

into circles using (what I think 
was clean — it’s sometimes 
hard to tell in our kitchen of 
seven) glass and carefully 
dealt a spoonful of stuffing 
before 
being 
folded 
over 

into their familiar crescent 
shapes. 
With 
mounting 

anticipation (the water could 
not have taken longer to boil) I 
carefully dropped my pierogi 
into the salted, bubbling water 
and watched as, one by one, 
they lazily floated up. 

Then, after scooping them 

out and letting them rest, I 
fried them in a generous pat 
of sizzling butter until they 
crisped up to a nice golden 
brown. And after less than 
an hour’s work, I had a whole 
tray of savory mounds of fried, 
mushroom filled dough to 
show for my efforts.

Though 
delicious, 
the 

doughy pockets aren’t the 
moral of this mouth-watering 
tale. I had, in an instant, been 
transported to another world. 
One where I could access 
memories, tastes and feelings 
that are otherwise unavailable 
to me. And all because I had, 
in the depths of complacency, 
decided to do something to 
counter the immobility that 
comes with feeling uninspired 
and weary. 

People generally shy away 

from 
the 
unknown, 
idly 

resigning 
to 
the 
familiar 

ease of a meal repeatedly and 
unceremoniously 
prepared. 

While there’s nothing wrong 
with this, it’s the very habit 
that we vow each January to 
spur in favor of something 
new and better. It’s the time of 
year again when we all resolve 
to do something different. 

So, maybe start with the 

small changes that seem more 
daunting than they really are. 
Do 
something 
differently. 

Make 
something 
different. 

And 
even 
if 
your 
dough 

betrays you and tears as you 
fold a particularly overstuffed 
dumpling, at least you tried 
and can feel assured that 
you’re better for it. 

New year, old pierogies

This is the music 
in which I find 
comfort during 

long drives

Emotional drama shines in its first half but a change in storytelling 
approach leaves the film’s cumulative impact marred in melodrama

Vivienne Westwood
This 
was 
Westwood’s 

first men’s show ever on the 
London schedule, but it would 
be silly to call it just a show 
for men. Her runway showed 
both men and women wearing 
everything 
from 
double-

breasted, 
broad-shouldered 

suits 
to 
garish 
dresses. 

Westwood’s collections have 
been fairly adventurous for 
as long as I can remember, 
but this collection may take 
the cake in terms of blurring 
the gender normative lines of 
clothing with men in dresses 
and miniskirts. 

One of the themes that 

was 
ever-apparent 
during 

this collection was the sea of 
faces printed onto garments: 
faces from puppets, comical 
faces and even what looked 
like Westwood’s own face. All 
in all, this collection felt like 
a day spent at the carnival, 
and sometimes that sort of 
whimsical look is just what 
you need.

 

Craig Green
Recently crowned British 

menswear designer of the 
year, 
Craig 
Green 
doesn’t 

miss a beat jumping into his 
Fall 2017 collection. This feels 
like 
Green’s 
furthest 
dive 

into textures and fabrics like 
wool and fleece — which were 
heavily used in this collection. 
When viewing this collection, I 
personally threw the question 
of “Could I see myself wearing 
this?” out the window. Not 
because it doesn’t feel wearable, 
but because when looking at an 
outfit, it’s a bit difficult to tell 
how many distinct garments 
are being worn, but that’s a 
common theme with Craig 
Green’s shows.

I started asking myself what 

sort of story this collection told. 
All of the looks felt particularly 
utilitarian: 
Some 
models 

were wearing helmets while 
others wore what can only be 
described as body armor. What 
is this looming doomsday or 
battle that many of his models 
seem so adequately prepared 
for? Maybe it’s a war or maybe 
it’s just the general dismal 
feeling in the air these days.

 

J.W. Anderson
Simply put, this collection 

was a lot of fun. From the 
barrage 
of 
colors, 
to 
the 

crocheted 
patches, 
pockets, 

scarves and sleeves. It all makes 
me want to call up my mom and 
ask her to break out the crochet 
hook and make me a cool patch 
for a sweater so I don’t have to 
spend my rent money on one of 
these when they drop.

One thing, for me, was 

that this collection felt quite 
wearable in general (which 
can be refreshing). When I 
first viewed the collection, I 
remember thinking to myself, 
“Wow, I could totally see 
myself wearing this” on many 
occasions, which was certainly 
more difficult to say during 
the Craig Green and Vivienne 
Westwood 
collections. 
This 

collection 
confirmed 
two 

things for me: that oversized 
and exaggerated silhouettes 
are in for this year and that 
Michele’s Gucci has influenced 
other designers as well. I 
expect to see more wide pants 
and over-the-top designs in 
other collections to come in 
2017.

SHIR 

AVINADAV
Daily Food Columnist

London Men’s F
/W Recap

THE WEINSTEIN COMPANY

When people can’t find movies for you don’t involve poor Indian kids.

VIVIENNE WESTWOOD

Trainspotting.

FOOD COLUMN

MUSIC NOTEBOOK

FILM REVIEW

STYLE REVIEW

NARESH IYENGAR

Daily Arts Writer

