A24

Diaries from the Chicago 
Int’l Film Festival: Day 4

My fourth day of the Chicago 

International 
Film 
Festival 

featured 
perhaps 
both 
the 

best and worst of what I’ll see 
here. At 3:45 p.m. was a press 
and 
industry 
screening 
of 

“The Confession,” the follow-
up to Georgian director Zaza 
Urushadze’s 
Oscar-nominated 

“Tangerines” from a few years 
back. “The Confession” follows 
a 
preacher, 
Giorgi 
(Dimitri 

Tatishvili, 
“Scary 
Mother”) 

and his assistant, Valiko (first-
timer Joseph Khvedelidze) as 
they fill in at a church in a town 
after the local preacher dies. 
They bring with them American 
DVDs and a projector to show 
in the church, believing that if 
the townspeople come for the 
movies, they’ll come to church.

The film series begins with 

“Some Like It Hot,” the 1959 
Billy 
Wilder 
classic 
with 

Marilyn 
Monroe, 
leading 
a 

number of the villagers to note 
that one of the women in the 
village, a music teacher named 
Lili 
(Sophia 
Sebiskveradze, 

“My Dad’s Girlfriend”), looks 
an awful lot like the blonde 
bombshell herself. And sure 
enough, though she is far from 
identical, Lili’s styled platinum 
blonde hair makes a compelling 
case. Lili and Father Giorgi 
become 
friendly, 
with 
the 

preacher encouraging her to 
come to a confession, where she 
notes not her sins but rather her 
place in the village: since her 
husband’s death, many men lust 
after her, but she’s not interested 
in loveless sex.

At about 89 minutes, the film 

moves fairly quickly, aided by 
an occasionally arresting shot. 
One of note happens a few 
times: Father Giorgi, out for an 
evening walk, finds a solitary 
Lili, illuminated and alluring, 
sitting aside a building in a 
large-scale shot. And there are 
some occasional laughs, too: 
One woman, concerned that 
her dead husband will know she 
cheated, asks Father Giorgi if 
spirits know everything. When 

he replies yes, she asks, “In 
detail?”

But when the film tries to 

actually say something, or make 
an argument, as Urushadze did 
with success in his previous 
film, “The Confession” sputters. 
The 
dichotomy 
between 

modern culture and religious 
traditions is present, but not 
dissected in any meaningful 
way. Father Giorgi went to film 
school, explaining his love of 
the medium, and dropped out to 
become a clergyman. So what? 
Father Giorgi feels torn between 
his lust and love for Lili and his 
promise to remain celibate. So 
what?

The cardinal sin, though, is 

the film’s finale. It would be 
unfair to ruin the “surprise,” but 
it should suffice that the film’s 
inclusion of a (false) female 
accusation of sexual assault 
is not only eerily repulsive 
given the recent scandal out of 
Hollywood involving producer 
Harvey Weinstein, but it also 
feeds a meninist nightmare to 
the point of propagandizing a 
vile hatred of women. I’m not 
one to dislike a movie for the 
ideas it depicts or proselytizes 
— hell, I’m a Jew who admires 
the craft of “The Triumph of 
the Will” — but Urushadze’s 
inclusion of the plot point, 
whether it was to articulate 
an idea or simply a method of 
moving the story forward, feels 
rather putrid.

“Lady 
Bird,” 
the 
solo 

directing 
debut 
of 
writer 

and 
actor 
Greta 
Gerwig 

(“20th Century Women”), is a 
fictionalized autiobiography. In 
other words, little to nothing 
that happens to high school 
senior Christine “Lady Bird” 
McPherson (an excellent Saoirse 
Ronan, 
“Brooklyn”) 
actually 

happened to Gerwig, but the 
film captures a spirit. Lady Bird, 
who gave herself the name, is an 
academically floundering and 
rebellious senior at a Catholic 
girls’ school in Sacramento. She 
dreams of going to college at an 
elite school on the east coast, but 
her family can hardly afford it 
(and her grades barely merit it). 
Roughly spanning the school 
year, we witness Lady Bird’s 

first loves, her experience in 
theater, parties, prom. Gerwig’s 
screenplay brilliantly swings 
between the heights of comedic 
achievement and the emotional 
caverns 
of 
anxiety, 
stress, 

growing up and everything else.

Films 
about 
adolescence 

often live or die by their casts. 
Fortunately, the actors behind 
“Lady Bird” are some of the 
most 
accomplished 
of 
their 

generation. 
Chicago 
theater 

legends Tracy Letts (“Wiener-
Dog”) 
and 
Laurie 
Metcalf, 

who just won a Tony for her 
performance in “A Doll’s House, 
Part 2,” are pitch-perfect as 
the parents of the household, 
navigating 
the 
struggles 
of 

raising a rebellious, sometimes 
insolent, daughter and grappling 
with their financial woes, and 
their 
Steppenwolf 
partner, 

Lois Smith (“The Nice Guys”), 
is authoritative and superbly 
funny as Lady Bird’s Catholic 
School’s mother superior. Lucas 
Hedges (“Manchester by the 
Sea”) and Timothée Chalamet 
(“Interstellar”), who play two of 
Lady Bird’s love interests, nail the 
sexual anxiety and performative 
coolness of youthful rebellion, 
respectively, better than any of 
their contemporaries. Beanie 
Feldstein 
(“Neighbors 
2: 

Sorority Rising”) is so funny as 
Lady Bird’s friend Julie that I 
actually snorted in the theater.

Gerwig, who has been the 

creative force behind a number 
of great films that explore 
the 
lives 
of 
rambunctious 

young women, has arrived as 
a director. She can keep her 
distance, letting characters live 
in the scene without a forceful 
intrusion of the camera. But 
she can also be tender, nailing 
dramatic moments with just 
as much force and ease as the 
comedy. Granted, a film that 
takes place in and is something 
of an ode to the writer-director’s 
hometown 
(in 
this 
case, 

Sacramento, Calif.) can often 
be good precisely because the 
filmmaker has spent so much 
time thinking about how to 
shoot the city. But “Lady Bird” is 
no standard debut and audiences 
should already anticipate what 
she has to offer next.

DANIEL HENSEL

Daily Film Editor

FESTIVAL REVIEW

HEALTH & WELLNESS COLUMN

The Alpha Female - Part I

I’m writing this from the 

Law Library, where every 
seat at my table is filled by a 
girl. Different races, ages and 
majors, various laptop stickers 
and textbooks — all of these 
girls are intensely studying 
and focused.

I’m empowered by this sight. 

Never at my time here at the 
University have I sat at only a 
table of women, with no words 
shared, but just studied and 
learned independently. They 
look tough and determined, 
and they make me want to be 
the same.

As an advocate for female 

empowerment and feminism, 
I’ve dabbled with the idea 
and definition of “the alpha 
female.” Seemingly, based off 
context clues, the girls around 
me sure look like they would 
be in this category. Those type 
of women exist, because the 
alpha male exists as well, so I 
could not help but soak up the 
divine feminine power around 
me and do some research.

From Dictionary.com, the 

definitions for alpha male 
and alpha female remarkably 
different. The alpha male is 
defined as both “a male animal 
having the highest rank in 
a 
dominance 
hierarchy” 

and “the leader of the pack, 
being 
the 
most 
dominant, 

powerful, or assertive person 
in a particular group.” Despite 
the word in terms of the 
animal kingdom, I found this 
definition to be appropriate for 
the human alpha male, with a 
nice use of characteristics 
like “highest rank,” “leader,” 
“dominant,” “powerful” and 
“assertive.” I had no suspicion 
in this definition, but it wasn’t 
until I searched my sex’s 
definition when things got 

frustrating.

The 
website 
gives 
two 

definitions 
and 
terms 
for 

what I was searching: alpha 
female and alpha girl. Alpha 

female is defined as “the 
dominant female animal in a 
pack,” meanwhile alpha girl 
is defined as “the dominant or 
primary girl within a group, 
esp. one who bullies.”

This boils my blood.
What is it about an alpha 

female that can’t be defined, 
like the alpha male, as “highest 
rank,” “leader,” “powerful” 
or “assertive”? We get two 
adjectives 
(dominant 
and 

primary) and a noun (bully), 
and they’re all crap.

In silence, I watch the 

women 
surrounding 
me, 

punching 
away 
at 
their 

keyboards, 
vigorously 

highlighting and memorizing, 
that are powerful and contain 
glimpses of qualities of alpha 
females. It’s these actions 
that demonstrate hard woman 
at work in a space that once 

did 
not 
allow 
women 
at 

all. Collectively, we paint a 
glorious image of taking back 
what is ours: the right to an 
education and the right to sit 
where we please.

It’s important to notice, 

also, the energy difference 
between a table of all woman 
and a table with all men and 
one woman. That one female is 
still strong in her own, being 
the representative for all of us 
in her scenario. But in most 
cases, that position can feel 
lonely or uncomfortable.

Yet the idea of these women 

and I sitting here, together, is 
evidently compelling –– we 
are dominant because we are 
together. I am comfortable, I 
am focused, I am invigorated 
by the idea that we’ve all sat 
here enriching our education 
and working our asses off for 
about four hours.

There was an unspoken 

supportive energy that was 
shared among us. It’s the same 
feeling I got when I used to 
practice with my women’s 
swim team, the same feeling I 
got when I walked through the 
Diag for the Women’s March 
and the same feeling I get 
every day when I come home 
to my house with six other 
female roommates. I believe 
women, especially those that 
are alpha females, emit an 
energy that is best received 
by other women. It’s those 
women that bring all of us 
together, reminding us of our 
place and our value.

If a boy sat down next to me, 

it wouldn’t make me or any 
of these women less of alpha 
females. We wouldn’t glare at 
him with hatred or disgust. 
We’d embrace it, recognizing 
that he belongs here equally as 
much as we do and vice versa.

No, maybe not all of these 

girls at the table are alpha 
females. 
They 
might 
not 

all lead their groups or are 
socially adept or rule with 
an iron fist. But who am I to 
say who is an alpha female 
and who is not? Clearly, there 
isn’t even a valid definition 
to prove any of this (thanks, 
Dictionary.com). I know one 
important 
thing, 
however: 

every 
female 
and 
every 

individual identifying as a 
female is strong in her own 
way. We sit here, individually 
in our own worlds and our 
own focus, but this table 
alone represents the future 
of supportive and successful 
females.

Author 
Vanessa 
Van 

Edwards 
gives 
her 
own 

definition of an alpha female: 
“Female alpha-hood is not 
like pregnancy (you are or 
you aren’t). It is more of a 
spectrum. Some women have 
a high tendency to be alpha. 
They enjoy social conducting, 
being the leader and/or the 
center 
of 
attention. 
Some 

women only like being female 
alpha’s in their home, but not 
in the business environment. 
Some women are only social 
alphas around certain groups 
of friends.”

One of my fellow female 

students at the table gets 
up to leave, when quickly, 
another 
girl 
replaces 
her 

spot. Hopefully, regardless of 
her alpha female-ness, she’s 
feeding into and receiving this 
same powerhouse energy that 
I feel. She replaced the seat 
of those before her, and she 
represents the future of strong 
women to come. 

ERIKA 

SHEVCHEK

I’m writing this 
from the Law 
Library, where 
every seat at my 
table is filled by 
a girl. Different 
races, ages and 
majors, various 
laptop stickers 
and textbooks

We sit here, 

individually in our 
own worlds and 
our own focus, 
but this table 

alone represents 

the future of 
supportive and 

successful females

STUDENT PERFORMANCE REVIEW
‘One Hit Wonder’ brought breathtaking charm to AA

The minute I sat down in 

my seat I was captivated. I 
didn’t know what I expected: 
a production that described 
itself as a “pop / rock jukebox-
musical about music, love and 
second chances” was bound 
to be full of energy, nostalgic 
hits and blinding color. But the 
School of Music, Theatre and 
Dance’s “One Hit Wonder” was 
so much more.

“One Hit Wonder” is a story 

of 
high-school 
sweethearts 

Rick 
(played 
by 
Senior 

Musical Theatre major Noah 
Kieserman) and Ashley (played 
by 
Junior 
Musical 
Theatre 

major Leanne Antonio) who 
had a fleeting taste of fame in 
their teen years after winning 
Battle of the Bands at their 

high school. The song they 
composed, “One Hit Wonder,” 
is predictably at the heart of 
the entire musical plot. Their 
song is just that: the night after 
performing, Rick and Ashley 
break up and the band fizzles 
out. After leading separate lives 
for almost two decades, a video 
of Rick and Ashley singing their 
hit song goes viral, and both 
decide to take advantage of the 
second chance. Thus begins 
the whirlwind story of pride, 
heartbreak and rekindled love.

The musical is one of the 

newest creations of Jeremy 
Desmon, 
an 
award-winning 

musical 
theatre 
bookwriter 

whose previous works include 
“Good News” and “Pump Up 
The Volume,” both of which 
received rave reviews from 
the New York Times. “One 
Hit Wonder” was produced in 
collaboration with The Arca 
Group, an esteemed Broadway 

production company, and was 
directed by Hunter Foster, a 
graduate of the University’s 
SMTD and a Tony award-
nominated Broadway actor.

“One Hit Wonder” adds a 

cutesy twist to its plot –– each 
song performed was once a real 
one-hit wonder.

The 
opening 
act 
thrust 

its energy onto the stage so 
suddenly that the audience 
gasped. 
Rick, 
wearing 
the 

iconic Pink Floyd Dark Side of 
the Moon shirt, black jeans and 
an unbuttoned plaid shirt ran 
onto the stage, followed by his 
fans from the dive bar where 
he plays every night. His fans 
circled around the bottom of 
the stage while Rick, sweat 
already 
dripping 
down 
his 

face, belted out a high tempo 
rendition of “Closing Time,” 
originally performed by the 
American-rock band Semisonic 
in the late ’90s. Strobe lights 

flashed around the theatre, and 
Rick’s bassist Gunner (played 
by 
Musical 
Theatre 
major 

Elliott Styles) jammed with all 

the charisma of a rock star. By 
the time the number ended, I 

had been transported from the 
Lydia Mendelssohn theatre to a 
rock concert. It was hard to tell 
who was cheering more –– the 
actors playing Rick’s fans or 
the audience. And this level of 
passion and exuberance never 
died down.

The performance continued 

with a beautiful rendition of the 
famous “Walking on Sunshine,” 
originally performed by Katrina 
& The Waves, in which Ashley 
celebrated her new position 
as a partner of the Dunham, 
Parker & Lutz accounting firm. 
Her powerful voice stunned the 
audience; whoops and hollers 
sounded 
from 
the 
balcony 

above me. Ashley responded, 
dazzling the audience with 
her liveliness. Right before 
the 
intermission, 
a 
slowed 

down and somber rendition 
of 
“Rescue 
Me,” 
originally 

performed by Fontella Bass, 
provided a perfect break from 

the exhilarating first half.

The real genius of “One Hit 

Wonder” lies in the humor. 
Actors performed the classic 
“What is Love?” by Haddaway 
after the intermission with a 
clever spin. Stewart, Ashley’s 
ex-boyfriend 
(played 
by 

Musical Theatre major Simon 
Longnight) 
lamented 
the 

loss of his girlfriend. Ashley, 
dressed in sweats and clasping 
a beer bottle, fumed about 
Rick’s hook-up with pop singer 
Mercy Faith, played by Musical 
Theatre major Grace Bydalek. 
Rick, shirtless and handcuffed 
to a bed frame by Mercy, belted 
out in a panic, “Baby don’t 
hurt me / Don’t hurt me / No 
more.” The interplay of these 
three scenarios, all occuring 
at the same time but meaning 
very different things, had the 
audience roaring with laughter.

It’s rare to find a musical that 

excels like “One Hit Wonder.” 

TRINA PAL

Daily Arts Writer

The musical is 

one of the newest 

creations of 

Jeremy Desmon, 
an award-winning 

musical theatre 

bookwriter 

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Tuesday, October 24, 2017 — 5