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6A — Wednesday, September 20, 2017
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

DAILY FILM COLUMN

Darren Aronofsky and his
dangerous
god-complex

Film
Columnist
Madeleine
Gaudin
criticizes
Aronofsky’s

recent
‘Mother!’
in
her
continuing
diatribe
against
the
film

I can’t believe I’m still writing

about this damn movie. I’d like
nothing more than to wash my
brain of Darren Aronofsky and his
latest assault of the senses. But,
alas, three days later and I can’t
get “Mother!” out of my head.

I don’t remember the last

movie that made me this mad.
Beyond the hollowness of its self-
serving allegory and its reliance
on
spectacle
over
substance,

something in this movie got under
my skin, and I haven’t been able to
draw it out quite yet. Hopefully,
by the end of this piece, I can bury
this — and my now irredeemable
relationship
with
Aronofsky’s

films — six feet under.

The image I keep seeing when

I think about the film is that of
Jennifer Lawrence, lying on her
back in the middle of a crowd of
people. We see her from above and
headless hands rain down on her,
hitting, clawing, cutting her. It’s a
hard image regardless of who is
making it. But knowing that the
eye on the other side of the camera
and the hand that wrote the scene
both belong to a man, the same
man — it’s not just awful, it’s bad
writing.

I’m reminded of a WIRED

article from a few years back
written in response to rape scenes
in
“Game
of
Thrones.”
And,

while there’s no explicit rape in
“Mother!,” the same rules apply.
Here, violence against women
is not used to further a male
character’s plot line, but rather
for spectacle — a box Aronofsky
checks off on his way to full
sensory overload.

More
so,
my
nausea
is

heightened by the clear link
between Aronofsky and the film’s
male lead, the troubled male artist.
A trope that normally warrants an
eye-roll, in “Mother!” is, of course,
brought to sickening heights. Javier
Bardem’s character is a dismissive,
emotionally abusive husband with
a superiority complex. He’s a good
character — probably the most
interesting in the movie. But, it’s

also clear that he’s supposed to be
Aronofsky.

I thought, at first, that I was

grasping at straws, looking for
a way to connect the director to
the center of the film’s evil. But
then I read an interview in which
Aronofsky described the script
“pouring out of him” like “in a
fever dream,” an event mirrored
by the poet in the film. Bardem
wakes up one morning and writes
the poem that sets the third act in
motion.

While it’s not the poet’s hands

that beat his wife in this horrific
scene, it is his own inability to
live without the attention his fans
— who have overrun his house
— give him that puts her in the

position to be attacked. I’d like
to think Aronofsky’s alignment
with Bardem’s character is a self-
aware one. I hope he isn’t that
dense. But, even if this is a self-
aware manifestation of himself,
it doesn’t feel like one that has the
level of self-criticism to make up
for the vileness of the character.

I don’t doubt that Aronofsky

loves the attention and admiration
his fan base of film school kids give.
He’s talked about eavesdropping
on people praising his movies. He
clearly thinks himself a genius.

I really wish I could laugh at him.

This level of self-righteousness is
hilarious. Aronofsky is the sort of
character I wish I’d written. But,
there’s something more sinister
going on with the trope he buys
into that keeps me from rolling my
eyes, tweeting and moving on.

Everything
Aronofsky
does

perpetuates the idea of “genius” as
something that one man (always
a man) achieves in a state of
monomania, locked in his room,
scribbling his masterpiece, riding
the wave of adrenaline and the
compulsion of God, the muses or
innate and unmatchable skill.

It’s absurd, yes. It’s laughable,

of course. But it also severely
limits the discussion of what art
we consider “genius.” The solitary
male
genius
is
a
dangerous

narrative. It gives people like
Aronofsky a hall pass to make
movies like “Mother!” It asks
us to overlook things like the
aforementioned scene as part
of a singular artistic vision, one
whose power we mere consumers
can only sense and whose deeper
meaning we can only guess at.

If Aronofsky wants to make

a self-critical movie about an
abusive, male “genius,” I’ll be the
first in line. But I think he probably
thinks he already did that with
“Mother!,” which is a real shame.
“Mother!” is a lot of things, but it’s
definitely not a passable attempt
to properly dismantle the myth of
the solitary genius.

“Mother!” could have been good.

If it did the things I think it wanted to
do, it could have been a challenging
and deeply vulnerable look at
the interworking of the director’s
mind. But, simply, Aronofsky takes
himself too seriously, believes more
wholeheartedly than he’d like to let
on in his own myth to be truly self-
critical.

That’s precisely why the image

of Jennifer Lawrence at the center
of the raging sea of people is so
unsettling, and why I’m thinking
about the dumpster fire that was
this movie days after I left the
theater — it feels like we’re seeing
the scene through Aronofsky’s
own eyes. And he stays, watching,
for a beat too long, pausing before
intervening to help.

He basks too long in the glows

of his creation to be truly critical
of the creator. That’s why, with all
it’s disgust and gore, “Mother!” still
feels like Aronofsky’s wet dream
about himself. Though we spend
the most time with her, this movie’s

not about Mother at all.

MADELEINE GAUDIN
Daily Film Columnist

COMEDY CENTRAL

Yet another creepy still from a long-lasting show
The Oversized Shadow:
20 Years of ‘South Park’

The animated show has graced and scarred the lives of
millions. Here’s a testament to its cultural criticism

Philadelphia
basements.

Williamsburg
hotel
rooms.

Michigan treadmills. For the past
20 years, “South Park” has been
with me through it all, but it
didn’t get that way overnight.

It started — much to the

disapproval of my parents — in
fourth grade, once I discovered
my brother covertly watching
“South Park” in our dark, dusty
living room. At the time, I barely
knew “South Park” even existed.
To me, it was just like any other
raunchy animated comedy that
I wasn’t supposed to watch.
Settling into our peeling brown
leather sofa, I quickly realized
that it wasn’t like any of those
other shows. I was hooked
instantly.

For the rest of that dreary

November afternoon, my brother
and I sat perched on the couch,
our eyes glued to the television
screen. Ignoring the huge sheets
of water pelting our house
outside, we ran through dozens
of classic episodes, beginning
with “Trapped in the Closet.”
As the Tom Cruise and Church
of Scientology jokes piled up,
my body began to ache from
laughing so hard.

I was abruptly ripped from

this euphoria by the noise of
my mom’s white Ugg slippers
smacking against the floor as
she approached us holed up on
the sofa. Almost immediately,
my brother flipped the channel
to CNN. I have no doubt that

my mom didn’t believe that
we’d been laughing so much at
the news, but by that point I no
longer cared. I just needed more
“South Park.”

Luckily, it wasn’t hard to find —

due to its overwhelming success,
“South Park” had more airtime
on Comedy Central than a shitty
Viagra ad (and believe me, there
were lots of those). It seemed

to follow me everywhere, even
to the cramped confines of the
Williamsburg, Va. Holiday Inn
during a seventh-grade school
trip.

After an absolutely thrilling

day exploring dusty shoemaker
shops, we returned, weary and
exhausted, to our worn-down
hotel. To us middle-schoolers, all
that mattered was sleep. That is,
until one of my roommates heard
that there was a new “South
Park” episode premiering that
night. Huddling in front of the
small, ancient box in the center
of the room, my roommates
and I silently prayed for a good
episode.

Our prayers were immediately

answered in the form of one of
“South Park”’s most hilarious
episodes,
“It’s a Jersey

Thing.” For 22 minutes, “South
Park” relentlessly mocked the
worst that television has to offer
in MTV’s infamous series “Jersey
Shore.” And for 22 minutes, my
roommates and I struggled to
contain our laughter at seeing
a gross render of “Snooki” run
around yelling “smush smush.”
Stuck in a 17th-century town
on a trip led by everyone’s least
favorite math teacher, “South
Park”’s familiarity helped to not
only entertain us, but comfort us
by reminding us that there was,
in fact, a world beyond our tiny
Holiday Inn hotel room.

But “South Park” didn’t stop

there — it followed me for
another seven years to Ann Arbor.
As I brainstormed ways to make
my daily (read: weekly) treadmill
run less monotonous, I realized
there was nothing better to run
to than “South Park.” I spent
many of those Spring Term gym
trips screening the latest “South
Park” season to catch up on the
series. My addiction got so bad I
almost started to enjoy running,
except for when I inevitably had
to pause each episode to ensure
I didn’t fall off the treadmill from
dying of laughter.

I’ve never had enough time to

watch every single “South Park”
episode, but it’s always been
there with me, like an oversized
shadow following closely behind
me. Whenever something big
happens today, I’ve come to
expect there to be a “South Park”
episode dedicated to ripping it
apart with jokes. It’s been that
way for 20 years, so why stop
now?

I’d like to think

Arnofsky’s
alignment

with Bardem’s

character is a self-

aware one

TV NOTEBOOK

CONNOR GRADY
Daily Arts Writer

this dead ad
comes to you

in four parts

one is isolation

one is d e s p a i r



one is pain

the last is arts
come on this journey

with us
— kupi rawr

E-mail arts@michigandaily.com for more

information on applying.

ACROSS
1 Drains
5 Takes from page
to screen, say
11 One of
Beethoven’s
nine: Abbr.
14 Party with tiki
torches
15 Flashy Chevy
16 With 36-Down,
Dr. Seuss classic
with the subtitle
“The Simplest
Seuss for
Youngest Use”
17 Cowardly Snoopy
nemesis?
19 Seagoing “I see”
20 French film icon
Brigitte
21 “The Racer’s
Edge”
22 Urban air
concern
23 Much
25 Curriculum __
27 Gloomy route to
Oz?
32 Actress Vardalos
33 Butte relative
34 RadioShack
predecessor
35 Automaker
Ferrari
37 Watched closely
40 Fictional London
alter ego
41 United
43 Halt
45 Belonging to us
46 Embarrassed
three-person
Vegas act?
50 Kentucky pioneer
51 Divided sea
52 Applaud
54 Old PC monitor
56 “Altogether ooky”
family name
60 Rocker Ocasek
61 Primary mixes
that affect 17-,
27- and 46-
Across
63 Query
64 Fire up
65 Attract pigeons
for, say
66 Bluster
67 Colorful fish
68 2016 N.L. East
champs

DOWN
1 Untidy type

2 Certain
something
3 Early late-night
host
4 Ice cream treat
5 Polish removers
6 Apply carefully
7 Latin I verb
8 “Friday the 13th:
Jason Lives,”
sequentially
9 Torrid Zone
parallel
10 Junior
11 Words of
reproach
12 Up-and-down toy
13 Downloaded
video format
18 Jewish folklore
figure
22 Mother of Isaac
24 Recipe amt.
26 B’way buy
27 Many of its knives
have a limited
lifetime warranty
28 Arkansas team
29 Mrs. Gorbachev
30 Compute
31 Salon worker
32 Twice-monthly
tide
36 See 16-Across
38 Sicilian high point

39 Track events with
mechanical lures
42 “Strange Magic”
gp.
44 Museum with
Goyas and El
Grecos
47 Recital bonus
48 Red wine option
49 Gary who played
Beethoven in
“Immortal
Beloved”

52 Outcropping
53 Songwriter
Loeb
55 __ de force
57 “Dancing
Queen”
quartet
58 Bubbly maker
59 Old fast fliers
61 Player in an
indoor tree
62 Soweto’s
country: Abbr.

By Kurt Mengel and Jan-Michele Gianette
©2017 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
09/07/17

09/07/17

ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:

RELEASE DATE– Thursday, September 7, 2017

Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle

Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis

xwordeditor@aol.com

It started — much
to the disapproval
of my parents
— in

fourth grade

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