The best sci-fi, or rather, the 
most effective sci-fi, walks the 
line 
between 
the 
fantastical 
and real. It shows that the most 
horrifying parts of our collective 
future aren’t necessarily aliens or 
other supernatural phenomena, 
but rather humanity itself and its 
relationship with its creations. 
The new Amazon series “Philip 
K. Dick’s Electric Dreams” is a 
flawed but intriguing addition 
to the canon of works such as 
“Black Mirror” that explore our 
relationship with technology and 
warn of the consequences.
“Electric Dreams” inevitably 
lends itself to several comparisons 
with 
the 
Netflix 
(previously 
Channel 4) hit “Black Mirror.” 
Similar to the latter, it features a set 
of standalone episodes, adaptions 
of works by the American writer 
Philip K. Dick (known for “The 
Man in the High Castle” and 
“Blade 
Runner”). 
Nonetheless, 
it rarely captures its British 
counterpart’s sheer, bleak dread 

and often feels rather predictable. 
Some episodes, such as “Real 
Life,” do skillfully adapt Dick’s 
Cold War tales and examine the 
possible effects of virtual reality 
technology. However, most of the 
episodes — while tackling nuanced 
issues — miss the mark in terms of 
having the effect that Dick’s stories 
often have on audiences.
Despite its flaws, “Electric 
Dreams” begs the discussion 
once again about the different 

approaches similar works take 
on the future and how we should 
learn from them. “Black Mirror” 
tackles its subjects, ranging from 
euthanasia to augmented reality, 
in a twisted, satirical (dare one 
say British) fashion. For the most 
part, “Black Mirror” episodes feel 
very real and their devastating 
effects arise from the small 
tweaks that the writers make to 
the world. Episodes of “Electric 

Dreams” on the other hand have 
a sense of paranoia due to the 
fact that a lot of Dick’s works that 
they are based on were written 
in the repressive back-drop of the 
Cold War, the first time in history 
where humanity came face to face 
with its own ability to wipe itself 
out. It shares several similarities 
with Radiohead’s 1997 classic 
OK Computer, an album which, 
through songs such as “Paranoid 
Android” and “No Surprises,” 
creates a simultaneously frenetic 
and deflated reaction to modern 
life.
Ever 
since 
“The 
Twilight 
Zone” aired in the 1960s, works 
in all formats of entertainment 
have dealt with the relationship 
between humanity and technology. 
Some may dismiss them as fear-
mongering and unrealistic, while 
others may start to resent the 
march of technological progress. 
What these shows should remind 
us is the fact that it is our duty to 
take a step back and reflect on 
ourselves. After all, it is not the 
technology that is inherently 
awful, but rather human nature 
itself that can make it have awful 
effects.

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Friday, January 26, 2018 — 5

There’s 
verve, 
and 
then 
there’s nerve. Directors can 
spend years trying to sift a 
unique idea into a unique film, 
only to have it bastardized 
or 
otherwise 
enfolded 
into 
generic studio dribble. That’s 
the gift of a place like Sundance, 
seemingly the antithesis of the 
stuffy studio system: Here, 
you’re able to find voices with 
wild visions who, admittedly by 
some miracle, have found the 
money to construct a truly new 
story. 
From the opening moments 
of “Sorry to Bother You,” you 
know you’re in the hands of a 
visionary. Director Boots Riley, 
making his debut amid a music 
career with The Coup, has 
crafted a somewhat psychedelic, 
Charlie Kaufman-esque balls-
to-the-wall social satire that 
feels so unique, so new, so 
gripping 
and 
unpredictable. 
In 
Oakland, 
Cassius 
Green 
(Lakeith Stanfield, “Get Out”) 
finagles his way into a job at a 
telemarketing firm, finding a 
hierarchy that privileges white 
culture and abuses lower-rung 
workers. What ensues is a deft 

(and daft) racial satire that 
attacks its targets with violence 
and precision like an axe. 
The score by Merrill Garbus, 
who records as tUnE-yArDs is 
deliriously perfect, amplifying 
the 
bizarre 
world 
creation 
and logic that spools out from 
Riley’s delicious vision.
It would be too easy to 
dismiss, or even to categorize, 
“Sorry to Bother You” as “Get 
Out”-esque (though I will admit 
to using the descriptor in trying 
to hastily describe this film). 
While “Get Out” targets well-
meaning white liberals, “Sorry 
to Bother You” takes on a larger 
topic: the corporate America 
that abuses history to serve its 
own purposes. Armie Hammer 
(“Call Me By Your Name”), who 
plays a sort of Silicon Valley 
magnate who graces magazine 
covers referring to him as the 
next genius, delivers in every 
scene as a snake-like villain, 
tantalizing in his mannerisms 
yet wickedly evil underneath.
***
If you were anybody in New 
York in 1977, you knew about 
Studio 54. The famous — or 
perhaps 
infamous 
— 
disco 
club lasted for less than three 
years in Times Square, but its 
influence on American culture 

has lasted far longer. Two 
movies in 1998 were made about 
the club, “54” and, to an extent, 
“The Last Days of Disco,” 
as well as the recent Netflix 
show “The Get Down,” which 
partially takes place in a Studio 
54-like club. It’s safe to say that 
Studio 54 was the epicenter of 
disco, a music trend focused on 
sex, drugs and dancing.
“Studio 
54,” 
a 
new 
documentary 
from 
director 
Matt Tyrnauer (“Citizen Jane: 
Battle for the City”), is an 
unfortunately 
conventional 
documentary that nevertheless 
captures the highs and (much 
deeper) lows of the club’s 
tragically short run. Cultivated 
from 
archival 
footage 
and 
interviews 
with 
various 
denizens, worker antagonists 
and 
semi 
co-founder 
Ian 
Schrager, “Studio 54” offers 
a perfectly satisfying, but far 
from mind-blowing, account of 
the club.
Schrager, 
it’s 
clear 
from 
the beginning, was never the 
talkative one. Those duties he 
left to co-founder and best friend 
Steve Rubell, a flamboyantly 
popular persona who appeared 
on talk shows and mingled with 
guests while Schrager stayed in 
the background. Rubell passed 

Sundance: ‘Sorry to Bother You,’ ‘Studio 54,’ ‘Ophelia’

DANIEL HENSEL
Daily Arts Writer

AMAZON STUDIOS

It’s the last week of Jan., 
and as I walk around campus, 
I can almost feel stress levels 
increasing 
among 
students. 
Midterms are approaching and 
spring break is still a month 
away. During times like this in 
the semester, I internalize my 
stress when I’m overwhelmed 
with 
assignments 
and 
interviews. I just let it build and 
build, and, sometimes during 
the week, I might break down. 
But then, I keep bottling up 
my stress again, not showing it 
externally but feeling all of its 
effects internally.
Sometimes, we all need a 
reminder to just slow the hell 
down, stop pushing away our 
problems under the pretense of 
being busy and work through 
them instead. I find that one 
of the best ways to do this is 
by talking to someone about 
what’s on my mind. When I 
entered “Value the Voice” at 
the University of Michigan 
Museum of Art on Jan. 23, I 
had a million things racing 
through my head. But when I 
left, I felt more at peace than I 
ever have on this campus.
“Value the Voice” is an open-
mic storytelling series hosted 
by the Comprehensive Studies 
Program and the Department 
of Afroamerican and African 
Studies at the University. Their 
goal is to emphasize the power 
that one’s words have. Imagine 
The Moth Radio Hour, but in 
real life. In this installment, the 
storytellers were all students 
or alumni of the University. 

The theme, which was quite 
fitting for a new semester, was 
“Nobody Told Me” — stories of 
the reality of college life.
There’s 
something 
extremely 
vulnerable, 
yet 
immensely 
beautiful, 
about 
sharing your struggles. You 
feel like a portion of the pain 
is being lifted off your chest, 
even though the problem may 
still remain. Looking at the 
storytellers, I could see all 
of these complex emotions 
running through their minds. 
Some told stories of racial 
discrimination 
they 
have 
faced, others told of family 
struggles. Some laughed, some 
cried and some did both. But 
in each speaker, I saw their 
delight in sharing their burden 
with others.
Zanib Sareini, an alumni 
of the CSP and currently 
a graduate student at the 
University’s School of Social 
Work, shared her experience 
of being an Arab-American in a 
post-Sept. 11 America.
“There 
was 
a 
different 
pressure 
post-9/11,” 
Sareini 
said. She recalls being told by 
her parents to “hold the door 
open a little longer, smile, don’t 
let them see you angry, don’t 
be reactive, always be nice,” 
and not understanding why it 
had to be so. As people treated 
her 
differently, 
she 
slowly 
secluded herself from others in 
an effort to stay out of trouble. 
Being a part of the CSP support 
system 
at 
the 
University, 
however, helped her through 
her anxiety. As she told this 
part of her story, CSP students 
in the front rows whooped and 
cheered. Sareini smiled back. 

While she couldn’t stop the 
discrimination, she knew who 
to come to for help.
Eddie Williams, a student of 
the School of Music, Theatre 
& Dance, told of how his 
relationship with his family 
changed 
upon 
coming 
to 
college. He distanced himself 
from them, found himself too 
busy with homework and later 
discovered that his grandfather 
had passed away during finals.
“Everybody in my family 
got a chance to have one last 
conversation except for me,” 
said Williams.
My heart lurched when he 
said this. Whenever someone 
else 
tells 
me 
something 
intimate like this, I imagine 
what it would be like to be 
in their shoes. And when 
Williams said those words, I 
really felt it.
As the night progressed, 
I watched storytellers pour 
their hearts out. Somehow, 
I felt like I was right up 
there with them. Through 
listening, they became a small 
part of my life. To all those 
who are conflicted, afraid or 
overwhelmed — find someone 
to tell your story to. It’s OK 
to be raw and vulnerable. It’s 
the first step towards comfort 
and, maybe, a sense of closure. 
If the storytellers at “Value 
the Voice” didn’t realize the 
impact their words could have 
on others, I’m sure they do 
now.
“Value the Voice” is part of 
an ongoing series. The next 
storytellers’s 
lounge 
is 
on 
Mar. 27 at the UMMA. Stories 
will discuss the theme of 
“Triumph.”

DAILY SUNDANCE COVERAGE

‘Value the Voice’ highlights 
the beauty in life struggle

COMMUNITY CULTURE REVIEW

“Electric 
Dreams”

Season 1

Amazon

away during the AIDS epidemic 
(he was closeted to his family), 
so Schrager is left with the 
responsibility of sharing their 
story. The club experienced a 
meteoric rise in 1977 — scored 
to a pumping disco soundtrack 
in the film — only to experience 
trouble with the IRS after they 
discover a major skimming 
scheme and drug possession. 
Schrager and Rubell, defended 
by McCarthyist lawyer Roy 
Cohn, enter prison.
It’s not hard to find something 
to love in the documentary, 
from its cameos both in the 
past (Liza Minnelli and Andy 
Warhol, perhaps the two most 
famous regulars of the club, 
appear regularly) and present 
(an interview with Nile Rodgers 
of the band Chic is illuminating) 
to its true crime story, one of 
conflicting narratives between 
the 
case 
prosecutor 
and 
Schrager and associates. But one 
could only wish that for a club 
that was so innovative, from its 
Broadway lighting designs to 
its inclusivity as a gay haven in 
an otherwise unfriendly New 
York, a documentary on the 
subject would live up to that 
standard as well.
***
A quick note to producers: 

If someone comes to you and 
says they have a great idea 
for a film, and it begins with, 
“Here’s 
where 
Shakespeare 
got it wrong,” chances are 
you’re in for a bad idea. A 
perfect 
example: 
“Ophelia,” 
a retelling of “Hamlet” from 
Ophelia’s point of view. For 
those like me who are generally 
unfamiliar with the Bard’s tale 
of Danish revenge, “Hamlet” 
follows a Danish prince who 
tries to murder his uncle who 
he suspects killed his father. 
Ophelia, 
Hamlet’s 
romantic 
interest 
and 
the 
daughter 
of 
the 
king’s 
advisor, 
has 
historically been reviled but 
feminist literature critics have 
sought to revise her reputation. 
Unfortunately, “Ophelia” might 
be a step back.
It should be said that the film, 
directed by Claire McCarthy 
(“Little Hands”), is deceptively 
gorgeous, so much so that it can 
distract from the film’s larger 
(much larger) flaws. Nearly 
every shot, rich in color and 
draped in period dress and sets, 
feels both real and imagined, 
like the weaved tapestries that 
hang 
throughout 
Elsinore. 
The score, though far less 
intoxicating, is still somewhat 
lush but can be overwhelming at 

times, often adding an artificial 
layer of capital-I Importance 
to the movie that is almost 
always erased by the film’s utter 
ludicrousness.
“Ophelia,” 
which 
could 
have 
been 
a 
well-deserved 
acting 
showcase 
for 
Daisy 
Ridley (“Star Wars: The Last 
Jedi”), who plays the titular 
role, collapses under its own 
premise 
and 
is 
otherwise 
tarnished by rather mediocre 
performances by Naomi Watts 
(“The Glass Castle”) and Clive 
Owen (“Valerian and the City 
of a Thousand Planets”). Ridley 
can do more with her eyes than 
most people can do with their 
entire bodies, but even she is 
restrained by a wildly abhorrent 
script that verges on camp. A 
third act, a complete invention 
that seems both conspiratorial 
and overly melodramatic is 
a complete disaster, and the 
rest of the film is not much 
better. This is a film that starts 
with a voiceover narration by 
Ridley that is something along 
the lines of, “This is my story 
… ,” a signal of subpar quality. 
Reworking classic texts into 
feminist works is a noble, even 
vital, goal, but “Ophelia” should 
serve as a cautionary tale, not 
an inspiration.

TRINA PAL
Daily Arts Writer

Amazon’s ‘Electric Dreams’

TV REVIEW

SAYAN GHOSH
Daily Arts Writer

MLPR
ALTIMETER FILMS

