6 — Tuesday, March 13, 2018
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

ACROSS
1 Kind of guitar
5 Foul-smelling
10 Bouillabaisse,
e.g.
14 Where the Jazz
play
15 Dodge
16 Weighty book
17 Signed up, as to
vote
19 Military group
20 113-gram
sandwich, more
or less
22 Sleeping woe
23 Like Oberlin
College since it
opened in 1833
24 About 1.8 meters
deep
31 Watch pocket
34 Approaches
35 Mall unit
36 Word after New
or teen
38 Hidden drug
supply
40 Big gulp
41 Insurance case
43 TV ex-military
group led by
Hannibal Smith
45 Mario Bros.
console
46 37.9-liter topper,
roughly
49 Fatty liver spread
50 Hybrid pack
animals
54 Proceed another
1.6 kilometers or
so
59 Christmas tree
topper’s topper
60 Double-checked
before cutting
61 Congregation’s
“I agree!”
62 Geometry
calculations
63 Track
assignment
64 Arnaz with two
stars on the
Hollywood Walk
of Fame
65 Toy truck brand
66 Old Russian
leader

DOWN
1 Traditional
Islamic garment

2 Thoroughly
delighted in
3 Cosmologist 
Carl
4 Counties across
the pond
5 Lavish party
6 At any time
7 Firewood
protector
8 Logical
beginning?
9 Subtract
10 They often have
class
11 Softened, as
rhetoric
12 Kuwaiti leader
13 Rainy
18 Wood finish
21 We, to one who
says “oui”
25 Ballot markings
26 Deadly
27 Muse for Shelley
28 German
industrial city
29 Cleveland’s lake
30 Govt. agency
rules
31 Something
known to be true
32 Eye rudely
33 Tall, skinny sorts

37 Tubular pasta
39 “So there!”
42 Course with
squares and
cubes
44 What babies
create, and vice
versa?
47 Eye rudely
48 Ruckus
51 Turkish coins
52 Kagan of the
Supreme Court

53 Meal where the
10 Plagues of
Egypt are recalled
54 Mario Bros., for
one
55 Architect Saarinen
56 Magneto’s
enemies
57 Hardwood prized
for outdoor
furniture
58 Tabula __
59 Owned

By Rich Proulx
©2018 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
03/13/18

03/13/18

ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:

RELEASE DATE– Tuesday, March 13, 2018

Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle

Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis

FOR RENT

2 & 4 Bedroom Apartments

$1400‑$2800 plus utilities.

Tenants pay electric to DTE

Showings scheduled M‑F 10‑3

w/ 24 hour notice required

1015 Packard

734‑996‑1991

5 & 6 Bedroom Apartments

1014 Vaughn

$3000 ‑ $3600 plus utilities

Showings scheduled M‑F 10‑3

w/ 24 hour notice required

734‑996‑1991

 ARBOR PROPERTIES 

Award‑Winning Rentals in 

Kerrytown 
Central Campus, Old 

West Side, Burns Park. 

Now Renting for 2018. 

734‑649‑8637 | 

www.arborprops.com 

FALL 2018 HOUSES

# Beds Location Rent

 6 1016 S. Forest $4500

 4 827 Brookwood $3000

 4 852 Brookwood $3000

 4 1210 Cambridge $3000

Tenants pay all utilities.

Showings scheduled M‑F 10‑3 

w/ 24 hr notice required

734‑996‑1991

Classifieds

Call: #734-418-4115
Email: dailydisplay@gmail.com

HAPPY
TUESDAY!

BOOK NOTEBOOK

I wanted this article to 
be about the power of books 
to heal. I wanted to talk 
decisively about how novels, 
poems and essays can direct 
collective and personal anger, 
supply comfort and provide 
an 
instructive 
array 
of 
resonant experiences. In the 
past three weeks, though, the 
usually profound and reliable 
competence of words has felt 
radically insufficient.
I’ve always relied on other 
people’s writing to navigate 
my own emotions, and so of 
course I’ve looked to books 
to help me understand the 
struggle between hope and 
disillusionment that has been 
sweeping the country since the 
shooting at Marjory Stoneman 
Douglas High School on Feb. 
14th. I have found no books 
that even come close to crafting 
some sort of framework for my 
grief, no poems that contain 
an alchemical recipe to turn 
my despair into power. The 
only thing I know for sure is 
this: Young people should not 
be dying in their classrooms 
because politicians refuse to 
pass sensible gun control laws. 
Last week, I reread “Love in 
a Time of Cholera” by Gabriel 
García Márquez.
“She was lost in her longing 
to 
understand,” 
Marquez 
writes. I think I, too, am lost in 
my longing to understand.
Like 
so 
many 
students 
I know, I am scared. The 
Parkland shooting seems like 
it was both yesterday and a 
lifetime ago. There is a constant 
barrage of new details about 
the events of that day and the 
days that followed, horrifying 
aftershocks 
whose 
impacts 
are lessened not because some 
suffering is any less worthy 
of empathy, but because my 
ability to process my own and 
others’ grief is diminished 
from 
constant 
emotional 
exertion.
I read a story last week about 
a woman whose son survived 

the Parkland massacre and 
whose 
daughter 
survived 
the 2006 Platte Canyon High 
School shooting. That such 
tragedy — and also luck, if it can 
even be called that — should 
strike twice in the same family 
is unimaginable. I want a book 
that will tell me what to do 
with the anger and frustration 
I have from reading stories like 
the Randolph family’s. What 
does it mean when even the 
insights of my favorite authors 

feel insufficient?
There are not any books that 
could possibly tell me exactly 
how 
to 
tackle 
everything 
that 
needs 
to 
change 
in 
America, nor even any about 
how to address the specific 
yet incredibly intersectional 
injustice of gun violence. I 
was looking for comprehensive 
guides; I will never find that. 
Instead, I think the best I can 
hope for is clarity through 
description, reflections not of 
my grief but rather of my quest 
to understand why I can’t find 
what I need. “I need a book 
about how I’m supposed to live 
now,” writes Paulo Bacigalupi 
in “The Water Knife.” That’s 
what 
I 
was 
looking 
for: 
A 
roadmap 
of 
uncharted 
territory, a chronicle of this 
bizarre place we have found 
ourselves. Instead I’ll have to 
make it up as I go along, as we 

all do.
What I’ve come understand 
is this: When words are not 
enough, that is exactly when 
we need them most. Even when 
they fall short, they still try — 
and so we try, too. To give up 
on language, to allow sorrow 
to rob poetry of its beauty, or 
even to rely solely on stories 
and forget to act: This would 
be to let evil win. I look to 
Tim O’Brien’s “The Things 
They Carried” for the best 
meditations on the Sisyphean 
task of reckoning with violence.
“You feel wonder and awe at 
the setting of the sun,” O’Brien 
says, “and you are filled with 
a hard, aching love for how 
the world could be and always 
should be, but now is not.”
“The 
oceans 
surge, 
but 
the boat / is up on blocks. / 
There’s no America to sail to / 
anymore.” — Amit Majmudar
“One says slow, the other 
stop. / Joy and sorrow always 
run like parallel lines.” — Didi 
Jackson
“When I was silenced / when 
did it first seem pointless to 
describe that sound.” — Louise 
Glück
“Our brief crossing is best 
spent attending to all that we 
see: honoring what we find 
noble, denouncing what we 
cannot abide, recognizing that 
we are inseparably connected 
to all of it, including what is 
not yet upon us, including what 
is already gone.” — Kathryn 
Schulz
“And a terrible new ache / 
rolled over in my chest, / like in 
a room where the drapes / have 
been swept back.” — Tracy K. 
Smith
We could never fix this 
country 
with 
books 
alone. 
Instead, we must harness that 
aching love for the world as 
we wish it was. We must stand 
witness to the gut-wrenching 
disregard for the well-being 
of those among us who are 
most vulnerable. We must fight 
with the perspicacity bestowed 
upon us by the best writers, 
marching forward into the 
future with a hope that is as 
specific and inexhaustible as 
memory.

At a loss for words: When 
literature fails to console

There are not 

any books that 

could possibly tell 

me exactly how to 

tackle everything 

that needs to 

change in America

MIRIAM FRANCISCO
Daily Arts Writer

“It’s so nice to not be at a bar.”
Midway 
through 
Snail 
Mail’s 
set, 
lead 
singer/
guitarist Lindsey Jordan took 
a moment to appreciate the 
beautiful space of the Museum 
of Contemporary Art Detroit 
(MOCAD), the venue where 
she — alongside Ought and 
Fred Thomas — performed at 
on Mar. 8th. While the space 
did feature a fully stocked bar, 
it was far from a dive — soft 
yellow 
incandescents 
hung 
staggered from the ceiling, wall 
flags displayed messages like 
“A HORROR MOVIE CALLED 
WESTERN 
CIVILIZATION” 
and the stage was backed by 
a glass paneled garage door 
for those passing on the street 
to peer through. The venue 
itself wasn’t huge, but the 
room felt big and spacious, 
enough for groups of people to 
cluster either near the bar or in 
different locations in front of 
the stage.
Regardless 
of 
MOCAD’s 
unique intricacies, Snail Mail, 
who preceded Ought, put on an 
absolutely stellar performance. 
Aged only 18 and already set 
to perform at Coachella this 
year, Jordan and company have 
been turning heads since 2017. 
The band’s brand of indie punk 
is magnetic and bareboned; 

watching Jordan play guitar — 
stunning control and precision 
already 
evident 
at 
such 
a 
young age — is mesmerizing. 
According to her interview with 
Pitchfork from a year ago, she 
has been playing since she was 
five-years-old and one of her 
guitar teachers, Mary Timony 
of the band Helium, said, “The 
first time she played me songs 
she was writing, I was totally 
blown away. There is this real 
timelessness 
and 
maturity 
and depth in her music.” The 
sentiment absolutely translates 
in their live performance.
During and in between songs, 
Jordan cast mischievous smiles 
at her bandmates, fully aware of 
their penchant for captivation 
— from my spot in the crowd, 
everyone was nearly silent for 
Snail Mail’s entire performance 
except for raucous applause. 
They 
surprisingly 
slipped 
their 
hit 
song 
“Thinning” 
into the middle of their set, 
eliciting resonance from the 
crowd that echoed Jordan’s 
tight, honest lyricism. “Dirt” 
lilted over the crowd, swaying 
guitar 
rhythms 
exited 
the 
speakers and enraptured the 
listeners. Jordan’s voice has 
a nuanced depth, creating a 
sense of resignation and self-
understanding in her music.
To Ought’s misfortune, about 
half the crowd left after Snail 
Mail’s set (possibly due to how 
late the show was running on 

a Thursday night). Yet, the 
post-punk group’s music still 
cast a spell over the rest who 
remained. In performance and 
on record, the band comes off 
like a hybrid between DIIV 
and Parquet Courts, wielding 
deep, repetitive basslines and 
dissonant guitar melodies to 
split a chasm in the atmosphere 
of the room, only to have that 
space filled with cavernous and 
staccato vocal deliveries from 
frontman Tim Darcy. On their 
new wave tinged 2018 release 
Room Inside the World, Ought 
sprinkles a little more melody 
and pop into their tried-and-
true songwriting, getting into 
a more digestible groove with 
“These 3 Things.” However, 
they didn’t shy from their roots, 
returning to their 2014 debut 
album More Than Any Other 
Day with the sparsely delivered 
“Habit.”
If there’s anything to take 
away from the show, it’s that 
2018 may be the year of indie 
rock (especially for women). 
Between stellar releases from 
Ought, Camp Cope and Soccer 
Mommy, the year has already 
been off to a fantastic start 
for the genre — hopefully 
even further improved with 
the addition of new music 
from Snail Mail. And if last 
Thursday’s 
show 
is 
any 
indication, Snail Mail may just 
be the year’s biggest breakout 
artist. 

Ought, Snail Mail & Fred 
Thomas rock at MOCAD

DOMINIC POLSINELLI
Senior Arts Editor

CONCERT REVIEW

DOMINIC POLSINELLI / DAILY

If 
you’re 
looking 
for 
a 
riveting, 
suspense-building 
espionage film, “Red Sparrow” 
is not that. If you’re looking 
for a film with 
unnecessary 
ultra 
violence 
and gore with 
a 
disorganized 
plot, then look to 
“Red Sparrow.” 
“Red 
Sparrow” 
probably aimed to be something 
akin to the Bond films, but 
the 
ultimate 
presentation 
was more of a disappointing, 
melodramatic “ugly step-sister” 
to a legitimate spy movie.
When ballerina Dominika 
Egorova (Jennifer Lawrence, 
“Mother!”) suffers a career-
crushing injury, she is forced to 
enlist in her sleazy, sycophantic 
uncle’s (Matthias Schoenaerts, 
“A Bigger Splash”) world of 
Russian intelligence in order 
to financially provide for her 
sick mother. She eventually 
sacrifices her body to the 
state, as she is sent to become 
a Sparrow in “whore school,” 
where 
the 
women 
become 
highly 
trained 
in 
sexual 
coercion 
and 
seduction. 
Dominika passes her training 
and is released to become close 
with a CIA member, Nate Mash 
(Joel 
Edgerton, 
“Bright”), 
but 
her 
situation 
becomes 

complicated upon contact.
Just when things start to 
potentially become a little more 
compelling 
when 
Dominika 
enters her Sparrow training, 
a training that is supposed 
to be taxing on the body and 
the mind, she is released. 
Being a Sparrow is supposed 
to be the most 
highly 
selective 
form of Russian 
intelligence, 
but 
there aren’t enough 
scenes 
to 
prove 
how 
strenuous 
the 
training 
is. 
We don’t believe it. The only 
exposition we have from this 
moment is Lawrence’s nude 
body, 
which, 
coupled 
with 
violence, is used too liberally 
and sloppily throughout the 
film. Violence can be effective 
and 
powerful 
when 
used 
deliberately in cinema, and 
when 
violent 
moments 
are 
intended to evoke suspense and 
drama. When used carefully, 
the result is more grounded and 
causes true fear. When violence 
is 
overused, 
like 
in 
“Red 
Sparrow,” the movie becomes 
about gore and tricks and loses 
any element of reality. It begins 
to devolve into a gimmick. And 
more importantly, it creates a 
truly 
unpleasant 
experience 
for the audience with no real 
redeeming moments. At times, 
it even seemed like the film had 
fully transformed into an SNL 
satire of a spy movie.
Besides the overuse of gore, 

Lawrence’s performance was 
not terrible, but it was not 
praiseworthy. The version of 
Lawrence we saw in “Silver 
Linings Playbook,” a performer 
with nuance and heart, has been 
absent in her recent films. This 
could partly be out of her control 
and attributed to types of roles 
she has been getting. But for 
now, we are wishing for a return 
to the old Lawrence. With “Red 
Sparrow”’s lackluster reception 
and especially “Mother!”’s box 
office flop, hopefully Lawrence’s 
next project will return her 
to a more prized reputation. 
But with her inconsistent and 
embarrassing Russian accent in 
“Red Sparrow” it is difficult to 
predict where the quality of her 
future projects is heading.
Dominika’s 
femme 
fatale 
persona proves to outsmart 
her male counterparts, and 
despite her power deriving 
from sex, she knows how to 
trick and beguile to rise to the 
top. “Red Sparrow” could have 
made a stronger commentary 
on female power, but instead, 
it was too tempted by showing 
silly violence and tricks that 
detracted from the core of 
the story. It also could have 
explored 
the 
detrimental 
effects of blindly following a 
rigid state that has no remorse 
for its citizens, nor did it expose 
the intricate and complicated 
nature 
of 
espionage. 
“Red 
Sparrow” had potential, maybe, 
with a stacked cast like that, but 
it fell short.

‘Red Sparrow’ is a dull stab 

SOPHIA WHITE
Daily Arts Writer

“Red Sparrow”

20th Cetury Fox

Quality 16, Rave 
Cinemas Ann Arbor

FILM REVIEW

