6A — Monday, March 5, 2018
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Live action Oscar shorts
continue to pack a punch
The
Oscar
nominees
for
Live Action Short this year
are a mixed bag in topic,
tone and execution. The five
nominees touch on everything
from the mistreatment of deaf
British school children to the
systematic racism that existed
a century after abolition in the
South — sometimes testing the
integrity of the edges of dusty
theater seats, and at times
accomplishing no more than
a chorus of groans from the
audience to skip on to the next
one.
“DeKalb
Elementary”
depicts
in
real
time
the
harrowing
half-hour
that
follows
an
armed
intruder
entering a school. All one scene,
shot entirely in the school’s
front office, featuring only two
main characters throughout,
“DeKalb” finds success in its
simplicity.
It
doesn’t
dress
up the conflict to heighten
the stakes because it doesn’t
need to — more than enough
tension is created by virtue
of
the
situation.
“DeKalb”
is an ode to human empathy
and
understanding
in
the
tight spaces where it ought
to exist the least, and strong
performances from everyone
involved make it a front runner
for this award.
“The Silent Child” has a plot
too convoluted for a short. It
pits a social worker against her
patient Libby’s mother when
the mother makes Libby forgo
learning sign language to learn
lip reading and speech therapy
in its place. Difficulty explaining
the plot in a sentence does not
bode well for a 20 minute run
time. The short could have
been saved had it not lay such
focus on the mother. It tries too
hard to build her up as some
misguided villain while losing
sight of the far more interesting
relationship between Libby and
her caretaker. The filmmakers
throw up statistics about deaf
children suffering in the British
public school system before
the credits roll, making the
whole thing feel more like a
manipulative humane society
ad than an Oscar nominated
short film.
“My
Nephew
Emmitt”
tells an unfortunate tale of
Black subjugation in postwar
America.
Slavery
had
been
outlawed
almost
a
century
before, yet Moses Wright and
his family are powerless to
stop a group of white men who
come to take away their visiting
relative for flirting with a white
woman
in
town.
“Emmitt”
is reminiscent of this year’s
“Mudbound” in both setting
and sentiment. It’s certainly
not as fleshed out as the feature
film (not that it realistically
could be), but manages to carry
a similar weight.
“The Eleven O’Clock” is
the only comedic nominee of
the five. The short plays off
the gag of a psychiatrist whose
patient is living the delusion
that he is a psychiatrist, too,
leading to some funny moments
within the confusion. But the
strong concept leaves itself a
little long, and almost outstays
its welcome. In a way, the
interaction between the two
men
devolves
too
quickly,
becoming loud and absurd too
fast, breaking the suspension
of disbelief that either one of
the characters shown could
be an actual trained medical
professional.
It’s
difficult.
“Eleven” is unique in this field
of five for its playful approach,
but falls short for that same
reason. There isn’t enough meat
behind it, yet it is a refreshing
change of pace from the darker
tone that pervades the rest of
the category.
“Watu Wote” mirrors the
real-life 2015 story of a group
of Muslims who protect their
fellow Christian bus passengers
from a group of Al-Shabaab
terrorists.
The
Muslims
conceal the Christians within
their ranks, staring down rifle
barrels without giving them
up. “Wote” starts off slow,
taking its time establishing the
main character with Muslim
prejudices so that they can be
squashed later on. The actual
event of the bus being held
up doesn’t occur until about
halfway through the short, but
the execution of the sequence
doesn’t disappoint.
STEPHEN SATARINO
For the Daily
FILM REVIEW
SLICK FILMS
HAMBURG MEDIA SCHOOL
‘Film Stars Don’t Die In
Liverpool’ lacks relevance
The age-gap romance has
been
repeatedly
explored
in sitcoms and soap operas,
movies and literature, so the
setup for “Film Stars Don’t
Die in Liverpool” sounds like
a tired subject matter. We’ve
all seen the Gloria and Jay
Pritchetts of the world. We’re
used to the alarming difference
in age between actors and
actresses (as in a 61-year-old
Liam Neeson starring opposite
a 29-year-old Olivia Wilde in
“Third Person”). However, the
typical gender roles are flipped
in director Paul McGuigan’s
latest
film.
Instead
of
a
bland, rich man with a young,
attractive
girlfriend,
this
film, based on a memoir of the
same title, pairs a renowned
former movie actress with a
younger lover. For McGuigan,
whose filmography consists
largely of action movies like
“Gangster No. 1,” this romantic
adaptation is a surprise.
“Film Stars Don’t Die in
Liverpool”
examines
the
relationship between Gloria
Grahame
(Annette
Bening,
“20th Century Women”) and
Peter
Turner
(Jamie
Bell,
“Man On A Ledge”) in the late
’70s and early ’80s. Grahame,
notorious for her vanity and
brief
success
in
the
’50s,
realizes her death is imminent
after a long struggle with
breast cancer. She reconnects
with her old flame, Turner,
a stage actor, and joins his
family in Liverpool. A series of
flashbacks reveal their history,
but unfortunately the script
does not stretch adequately
into Grahame’s acting heyday.
As a result, screenwriter Matt
Greenhalgh avoids making a
significant, relevant political
statement about the treatment
of older actresses and what
MEGHAN CHOU
Daily Arts Writer
FILM REVIEW
happens
after
fame.
The
concentration
remains
on
her final years in obscurity
without a comparison to her
life in the spotlight.
Bell
and
Bening
deliver
strong performances, milking
depth out of the thin writing.
Bening mixes regalness with
spunky wit and tries to elevate
the portrayal of Grahame. Bell
also does a good job, playing
off of Bening with believable
chemistry.
However,
the
lackluster script holds back
both actors and does not do
the memoir justice. Despite
the
winning
acting,
the
casting of Bell and Bening
does not make sense with the
real life people involved in
the story. The down-to-earth
Bening does not match the
divaness of Grahame, nor does
the introspective Bell align
with the easygoing Turner.
In the end, this story with so
much potential falls short of
expectations.
“Film Stars Don’t Die in
Liverpool” had early Oscar
buzz
that
quickly
faded
following its initial release
in the United Kingdom. With
such a rich background to pull
from given Gloria Grahame’s
messy,
often
scandalous
career, the script really does a
disservice to her colorful life.
Grahame won an Oscar in 1952
for her work in “The Bad and
the Beautiful” and appeared
in blockbuster hits like “It’s
a Wonderful Life” and “In a
Lonely Place.” Although the
film touches on some of her
most well-known works, it
skates over her intoxicatingly
complicated
marriages
and
professional
exploits.
Bening prevents the hectic
writing from swallowing this
fascinating woman completely,
but overall “Film Stars Don’t
Die in Liverpool” kills off its
best material before it has the
chance to grow.
SONY PICTURES CLASSICS
‘An American Marriage’
is an instantaneous classic
The title of “An American
Marriage” might conjure up a
stilted vision of the American
dream
inflected
by
1950s
nostalgia:
gingham-print
aprons, towheaded children,
suburban purgatory. It’s a
white-washed understanding
of Americana, and I’m not just
talking about the picket fences.
But this is exactly the notion
of what makes a marriage
“American” that Tayari Jones’s
accomplished
new
novel
interrogates, complicates and
ultimately dismisses. In its
place, Jones offers a vision of
marriage in modern America
that is raw and complex, and
asks us to consider how the
most intimate parts of our
lives can be shaped by national
narratives beyond our control.
Celestial
Davenport
is
strong-willed and formidable,
a
folk-artist
from
Atlanta
who makes custom dolls. Roy
Hamilton is ambitious and
entrepreneurial,
determined
to rise above his small-town
Louisiana roots and make
a name for himself. Both
are
graduates
of
southern
historically-Black colleges and
universities, navigating what
it means to be a part of “What
the rest of America thinks of as
middle-middle-class and what
Black America calls upper-
middle-class” in a country
still haunted by the pre-
Civil Rights traumas of their
parents and grandparents.
From the beginning, Jones
insists on the intersection of
the personal and political.
Celestial and Roy’s tumble
into a passionate and often
volatile marriage blends easily
into the canon of “universal”
narratives, speaking to the
optimistic ease with which
young people commit to a
lifetime together before they
can possibly understand how
long a lifetime really is. But
their marriage is also hemmed
tightly
to
the
particular
circumstances
of
race,
history
and
socioeconomic
status. Celestial, who comes
from
greater
economic
privilege,
is
constantly
aware of this imbalance in
their relationship, and Roy’s
mother criticizes him for not
marrying a woman of his own
social class so he can “Lift
somebody up with him.” They
both want their children to be
raised in a world where they
aren’t constantly reminded of
their race. As Roy says, “I’m
not going to remind my kids
that somebody died in order
for me to do everyday things.”
Their expectations of one
another’s gender roles adds
another layer of complication
to their marriage. Roy is
conservative, constantly needs
affirmation of his masculinity
and expects his wife to be
subordinate.
Celestial
is
stridently
feminist,
insists
that they remove “to obey”
from
their
wedding
vows
and
feels
pressured
into
motherhood regardless of her
own doubts: “Is motherhood
really optional when you’re
a perfectly normal woman
married to a perfectly normal
man?” Jones’s gift for nuance
makes it possible for readers to
root for this couple and, in the
same breath, question whether
their relationship is entirely
healthy.
Then tragedy strikes: Roy is
falsely accused and convicted
of rape, and sentenced to 12
years in a Louisiana prison
— known to be one of the
worst states for Black men in
the justice system. When his
conviction is overturned five
years later and he is released
into the world, he and Celestial
must
contend
with
the
destruction of their American
dream by a systematically
unjust
justice
system
and
with the new people they’ve
become.
The narrative is instantly
classic: one part “To Kill a
Mockingbird,” one part “The
Count
of
Monte
Cristo.”
But it is also contemporary,
immediate and keenly critical.
Jones’s greatest gift as a writer,
besides
the
lyrical
beauty
of her prose and compelling
complexity of her characters,
is her ability to see the forest
for the trees, to understand
the silent forces that guide our
lives and to fight for the right
to choose a different direction.
With “An American Marriage,”
Jones testifies to an expanded
understanding
of
whose
stories need to be included
in the canon of “universal”
American
narratives,
and
carves a place for herself as
one of the great chroniclers of
American life.
JULIA MOSS
Daily Arts Writer
BOOK REVIEW
“An American
Marriage”
Tayari Jones
Algonquin Books
February 6
Courtesy of Tayari Jones