The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Wednesday, September 20, 2017 — 5A
Arts

FOREIGN FAMILY COLLECTIVE

Paramore commands the 
crowd at the Fox Theater

At first, the screaming was 

so deafening that for a moment 
I was actually afraid.

Then the moment passed, 

and I remembered where I was 
and what was going on. I was 
at a concert. The intermission 
after the opening act of Best 
Coast was over, and all seven 
members of Paramore had just 
run out onto the stage.

Paramore 
is 
tied 
to 
an 

interesting 
brand 
of 
fan 

culture. Older bands typically 
spearhead devoted groups of 
longtime listeners, many of 
whom know the band’s history 
and 
can 
list 
every 
album 

chronologically, whereas the 
concerts of more recent groups 
are often attended by younger 
fans who are primarily excited 
about material from the last 
few years. Paramore walks the 
line comfortably between these 
two groups, which is part of 
why their concerts are always 
so much fun: there are people 
who just started listening to 
them (thanks to singles like 
“Ain’t It Fun” and “Still Into 
You”), and people who have 
followed their journey all the 
way back since Riot!, and even 
All We Know Is Falling.

No matter which side of the 

aisle you fall on, though, the 
level of energy at their live 
shows is undeniable.

The pop punk band kicked 

off 
Friday 
night’s 
concert 

with “Hard Times,” the foot-
stomping 
single 
off 
their 

newest album, After Laughter. 
From 
there 
they 
plunged 

straight through consecutive, 
roof-raising performances of 
hits like “Ignorance,” “Still 
Into You” and “Daydreaming.” 
The show never seemed to 
falter — Paramore has so many 
catchy songs from so many 
successful records that every 
opening 
chord 
progression 

seemed to throw the crowd 
into a frenzy. The band skated 

easily 
between 
their 
own 

songs, with equal enthusiasm 
for older hits like “That’s What 
You Get” as for newer ones like 
“Forgiveness” and “Brick By 
Boring Brick.”

Hayley Williams herself was 

a force of inexorable energy. 
She strutted around the stage, 
flipped her hair and weight-
lifted the microphone stand 
with one hand, all without 
losing the dynamic force of her 
vocal performance.

The entire night, Williams 

commanded an intriguing and 
telling presence, in that the 
audience’s mood always felt 
mirrored to her own. When 
she was on her feet, jumping 
and shouting along to her 
own lyrics, so was everyone 
else; people cheered at the 

top of their lungs, and bouncy 
balls pinballed around the 
lower level of the theater. And 
when she settled back down 
momentarily to thank us for 
coming and to talk about her 
feelings, we settled, too.

“This is one of those nights 

where it feels like you don’t 
know how this happened, it’s 
like it’s not deserved,” she said. 
“It feels like a really special 
night to talk about feelings.”

There were a few intimate 

moments like this. Part of it 
came through the music itself 
— during slower songs like “26” 
and “Hate to See Your Heart 
Break,” 
audience 
members 

closed their eyes and swayed, 
waving the lights from their 
phones back and forth in the 
air. But a big part of it came 
from Williams herself; every 
sentence she uttered came off 

as truly genuine, and when she 
talked to the audience as one 
might a friend, she managed 
to 
make 
even 
The 
Fox’s 

huge venue seem intimate. 
When she spoke of the band’s 
appreciation for how far their 
fans have taken them since 
Riot!, one got the sense that 
she really was speaking from 
the heart.

“I want you to close your eyes 

and imagine yourself ten years 
ago,” she said at one point. 
“Ten years ago, it was 2007 — 
that’s math — and it was a very 
different time, especially for 
good old bands like us. And we 
just so happened to put out our 
second record, it was called 
Riot!, that year, and we set 
out across the United States of 
America on the Warped Tour 
... And it was beautiful because 
that year, we met so many of 
you. It was a big year for us.”

By the time the show was 

over, there were plenty of 
fun moments to look back on: 
a cover of Fleetwood Mac’s 
“Everywhere,” 
the 
moment 

Paramore invited a fan onstage 
to sing the end of “Misery 
Business” and the fact that 
they dedicated the show, “like 
every show we play in Detroit,” 
to a fan named Papa Smurf 
who once gave Williams a pair 
of earrings in 2005. But what 
resonated perhaps the most 
was the band’s genuine effort 
to include the audience in the 
fun of the performance as 
much as they could.

Williams 
closed 
out 
the 

encore by introducing the rest 
of the performers: Justin York, 
Logan McKenzie, Joe Mullen, 
Joey Howard, Taylor York and 
Zac Farro. “And all together, 
we represent something that’s 
bigger than each one of us 
alone,” she finished. “So who 
are we?”

And 
when 
the 
audience 

shouted 
back, 
“We 
are 

Paramore!” it sounded as if, in 
that moment, everyone in the 
whole theater was telling the 
truth.

LAURA DZUBAY

Daily Arts Writer

Paramore 

Fox Theater

Friday, 

September 

15

CONCERT REVIEW

REPUBLIC

In pursuit of self agency: ‘I 
and Love and You’ and me

Whenever life starts to get 

a little too heavy and days 
start to feel a little too long, I 
have a propensity to lose sight 
of myself. My interests, my 
footing, my breath — they all 
just evaporate in this haze of, 
“Why does everything always 
have to happen at once?” It’s 
paralyzing, 
this 
feeling 
of 

being in a funk but also needing 
to conquer the world. It’s in 
these times, this time, that I 
often turn to a certain pair of 
brothers to pluck me out.

Directed by Judd Apatow 

and Michael Bonfiglio, the 
documentary “May it Last: A 
Portrait of the Avett Brothers” 
trails the band during the 
making of their 2016 album 
True Sadness. It’ll hit HBO in 
early 2018, and it had a one-
night-only showing on Tuesday, 
Sept. 12 at various theaters 
across the country. God bless 
the Michigan Theater for being 
one of them.

The 
summer 
after 
I 

graduated from high school (I 
sincerely wish I could refer to 
a less cliché time in my life), 
I saw the Avett Brothers, an 
Americana group, live. Despite 
having seen half of their set at a 
festival in 2015, I wasn’t super 
into their music yet. But in 
this setting, at that particular 
point in my life, something 
shifted. I felt so out of control 
of my future that I just let their 
performance move me. I can’t 
say I went home that night and 
cried, because “cried” isn’t 
a strong enough word. I was 
weeping.

That whole summer was 

full of hesitation, and it was an 
introduction to varying degrees 
of sadness and self-doubt that 
I hadn’t known before. Even 
with close friends, I had always 
felt a little out of place. My 
high school experience was 
somewhat 
unconventional, 

and there were moments when 
it got pretty lonely. When I 
listened — really listened — to 
the Avett Brothers that night, 
it was as if this whole new 
dimension of life just opened 
itself for me.

Fearlessness, love, sorrow, 

heartbreak, freedom, agency 
— all of these feelings were 
just sitting there, waiting for 
me to claim them. They turned 
into possibilities and dreams 
and finally, thank whoever’s 
up there helping me out, I was 
awake for them.

Now, almost a year and a 

half later, this documentary 
about the Brothers comes out. 
I know they don’t know me, 
and they didn’t know I needed 
them, but it’s really like they 
knew I needed them. The Avett 
Brothers are my reset button. 
Hearing their writing process 
and 
seeing 
the 
dynamic 

between Seth and Scott, I felt 
like myself again.

From 
“Open 
Ended 

Life” from Magpie and the 
Dandelion, 
2013: 
“I 
spent 

my 
whole 
life 
talking 
to 

convince everyone / That I was 
something else / And the part 
that kind of hurts / Is I think it 
finally worked.”

These lyrics are poignant 

and eloquent on a level I can 
only ever hope to reach. I 
started to think of all these 
moments when I got hurt by 

vibrating on everyone else’s 
frequency but my own. It’s not 
worth it. I keep having this 
same revelation, and someday 
I hope it sticks (maybe that’s 
what my thirties are for). Until 
the time comes, I have this 
album to revisit whenever the 
chain tugs at me.

My dear love, my aching 

pain, my loyal friend: “I and 
Love and You.” The Avett 
Brothers wreck me like no 
one else can, and this album, 
this song, these lyrics, are the 
epicenter of this.

“Dumbed down and numbed 

by time and age / Your dreams 
to catch the world, the cage / 
The highway sets the traveler’s 
stage / All exits look the same / 
Three words that became hard 
to say / I and love and you.”

I’ll 
repeat 
it 
over 
and 

over again until the world 
stops spinning: I and love 
and you. They’re lyrics that 
have grown with me and will 
eternally continue to do so. 
From big dreams, to baby 
dreams, to crushed dreams, 
this 
documentary 
fed 
me 

perspective, and it showed me 
how to breathe again — grateful 
and boundless.

So, I’ll go. I’ll listen to 

“Head Full of Doubt / Road 
Full of Promise” and start 
living the visions I drum up 
when times gets hectic and 
I feel inadequate. I’ll listen 
to “Murder in the City” and 
remember my mom and how 
much I miss eating her food 
and watching “Gilmore Girls” 
together. I’ll listen to “True 
Sadness” 
and 
let 
myself 

experience pure moments of 
just that. I just listen, and my 
heart thanks me. 

ARYA NAIDU
Daily Arts Writer

COMMUNITY CULTURE NOTEBOOK

“First 
They 
Killed 
My 

Father,” directed by Angelina 
Jolie (“By the Sea”) is one 
of 
the 
most 
heartbreaking 

movies 
of 
the 

year. Telling the 
autobiographical 
story 
of 
Loung 

Ung 
(who 

co-wrote 
the 

screenplay 
with 

Jolie and wrote 
the memoir upon 
which 
the 
film 

is 
based) 
and 

featuring 
an 
all-Cambodian 

cast, the film is an epic and 
disturbing recreation of one of 
the most horrifying events of 
the 20th century.

Beginning in 1975, the film 

chronicles the story of Loung 
Ung and her family as they 
are forced to deal with an 
increasingly 
terrible 
series 

of events due to the rise of 
the communist regime of the 
Khmer Rouge. Fearing they will 

be targeted due 
to their family’s 
connections 
to 

the 
previous 

government, 
they flee to the 
countryside 
where they end 
up forced to work 
in a series of labor 
camps. The family 

is slowly torn apart as the 
genocide ramps up its terror.

Films 
about 
genocide 

are tricky. With a personal 
investment in this story, Jolie 

fills every frame of the film 
with this sense of hopelessness 
and 
confusion 
that 
is 
as 

unnerving as it is compelling. 
The audience will find itself 
hard-pressed to look away as 
the atrocities begin to pile 
up and the sadness of the 
characters’s situation begins to 
hit home. The music by Marco 
Beltrami (“The Hurt Locker”) 
imbues the film with a sense 
of terror as well as a sense of 
scale.

The scale of this film is 

stunning. 
Aerial 
shots 
of 

thousands of people walking 
convey 
the 
sheer 
number 

of 
people 
affected 
by 
the 

Cambodian genocide in a way 
that forces the audience to 
grapple with the subject matter 
, and realize what it would be 
like to be forced from your 

home and lose everyone and 
everything that ever mattered 
to you.

This is not a happy film. It is 

not a film you watch to “enjoy” 
in any real sense of the word. It 
is a film that forces its audience 
to look inside themselves and 
ask why their country didn’t 
do anything, why their country 
should’ve done something and 
if either they or their country 

are doing anything now. There 
are terrible atrocities in the 
vein of the genocides of the 
20th century being committed 
around the world today and by 
and large the western world 
is content to deal with its own 
problems 
and 
do 
nothing. 

In light of that, “First They 
Killed My Father” is not just 
an extremely important film 
but 
also 
extremely 
timely 

one. As extremist groups of 
all kinds continue to cause 
terror and fear all across the 
globe it is important now more 
thAn ever not to forget what 
happened in Cambodia in the 
’70s. Americans did not pay 
any attention then. With “First 
They Killed My Father,” Jolie 
and Ung are doing their part to 
make sure that this time, they 
will. 

IAN HARRIS
Daily Arts Writer

NETFLIX

‘They Killed My Father’ 
proves disturbing & tragic

“First They 
Killed My 
Father” 

Netflix

FILM REVIEW
FILM REVIEW