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Thursday, May 24, 2018
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com ARTS
Few
recent
shows
have
caused as much controversy and
sparked as many discussions
as Netflix’s adaption of Jay
Asher’s 2007 novel “13 Reasons
Why.” It tackles a variety of
topics
from
depression
and
sexual assault to bullying, while
drawing
criticism
for
what
some believe to be its graphic
depiction of traumatic events
and glamorization of topics like
suicide and self-harm.
The
show’s
first
season
explored
the
circumstances
surrounding
the
suicide
of
Liberty High School student
Hannah
Baker
(Katherine
Langford,
“Love,
Simon”)
through a series of thirteen
audio
tapes
narrated
by
Hannah herself. The tapes,
each addressed to an individual
who contributed to Hannah’s
suicide, revealed a harrowing
series of events caused by both
individual and systemic failures
in her high school.
Season two begins months
after Hannah’s death, at the
beginning of a civil lawsuit
between Hannah’s parents and
her high school, the latter of
which is being sued for failure
to protect Hannah and enabling
the damaging culture that led
to her suicide. Each episode
centers on the testimony of
an individual mentioned in
one of Hannah’s tapes, while
also
exploring
the
effects
of Hannah’s suicide on the
students of Liberty High.
The show’s first season dealt
with difficult topics with a
sensitivity and maturity that few
shows centering around such
a demographic do. Moreover,
the characters, from Hannah
herself to her close friend Clay
Jensen (Dylan Minnette, “Don’t
Breathe”), felt like realistic,
multi-dimensional
teenagers.
Season two deals with similar
issues but is let down by
its own writing and overall
execution. The dialogue, one
of the strongest aspects of the
first season, is now stilted and
overly melodramatic, especially
during the courtroom scenes.
Without the structure provided
by the series of tapes in season
one, the early episodes of season
two lack a sense of cohesion and
unity. Hannah’s appearances in
Clay’s hallucinations feel more
like cheap plot devices. The
antagonists of the story feel
almost cartoonishly evil, which
belies the actual heinousness of
their crimes.
Season
two’s
redeeming
qualities
mainly
concern
the
development
of
certain
characters. In particular, Tyler
(Devin Druid, TV’s “House of
Cards”), one of the students
implicated in Hannah’s tapes, is
slowly fleshed out, albeit in an
unsettling fashion that seems
to be a large focus of the season
as a whole. Minette’s portrayal
of Clay’s trauma and inability
to rid himself of memories
related to Hannah is excellent,
especially in a set of awkward
scenes
with
his
girlfriend
Skye (Sosie Bacon, “Story of a
Girl”). Zach (Ross Butler, TV’s
“Riverdale”) and high school
counselor Kevin Porter (Derek
Luke,
TV’s
“Roots”)
begin
compelling
redemption
arcs
as well. Scenes with Hannah’s
mother Olivia (Kate Walsh,
“Girls Trip”) are also high notes,
as she emotionally recounts the
little moments that she believes
helped drive her daughter to her
tragic end.
Season two of “13 Reasons
Why” takes an even darker,
more sinister tone than season
one. Unfortunately, its shoddy
writing and poor dramatization
make
it
feel
more
like
a
stereotypical high school drama
or an ineffective PSA. Season
one, despite some issues with
its pacing, tells its story in a
unique, thoughtful way, which
season two does not replicate
with consistency.
‘13 Reasons Why’ Season
2 strays from its successes
TV REVIEW
NETFLIX
FILM REVIEW
MADELEINE GAUDIN
Daily Arts Writer
SAYAN GHOSH
Daily Arts Writer
“13 Reasons
Why”
Netflix
Episodes 1-3
“Under the
Silver Lake”
A24
Cannes Film Festival
There is a wonderful eagerness
with which Sam — Andrew Garfield
(“Breathe”) at a career high —
accepts the miraculous nonsense
of “Under the Silver Lake.” His
refusal to spend more than one
perfect facial reaction questioning
the bombardment of bizarre is,
in large part, why director David
Robert Mitchell (“It Follows”) gets
away with the most unrelentlessly
odd film of the year. It’s how he
out-Lynches Lynch and out-Jonzes
Jonze.
Sam
is
33,
white, horny and
unemployed
in
L.A. He’s not just
“working
on
a
script” unemployed,
he’s
directionless
without
seeming
to want direction. Or rather, he
thinks direction will come find him,
preferably in the form of secret codes
planted by other modern geniuses in
popular culture.
When his mysterious neighbor
Sarah (Riley Keough, “American
Honey”) disappears as quickly and
seamlessly as she appears, Sam is
finally called to action. The universe
demands he quit his day job of
spying on his aging, topless neighbor
and uncover what the hell is going
on under the Silver Lake.
Sam follows the bread crumbs
that align so perfectly (the film
more than earns this narrative
ease) it’s a wonder he didn’t plant
them himself. He takes us through a
version of L.A. that bears a striking
resemblance to “La La Land.” Not
in its choice landmarks per se, but in
the way it constructs the city around
cinematic homage. Extremely meta.
But while “La La Land” earns charm
from its referential existence, “Silver
Lake” gets an added layer of unease.
What came first: Los Angeles or the
on-screen version of it?
Mitchell has more than just
Hollywood in his sights though, as
Sam’s journey drags the audience
deeper and deeper into the maze
(sometimes literally) of the film’s
plot. It becomes obvious Sam
believes the world was created
just for him. Beyond the codes and
keys and messages in songs, Sam
believes he deserves everything just
because he exists. His undeserved
want manifests itself
brilliantly in the way
he views women.
From the moment
we meet him, behind
a pair of binoculars
on his porch, Sam
is the leering male
gaze incarnated. He
wants women so they should want
him. He wants sex so he deserves it.
The infatuation that sets the plot in
motion is born, more than anything,
out of an unresolved sexual fantasy.
Andrew Garfield’s specifically
twitchy brand of skinny-guy acting
has never been better. He is equal
parts compelling and unsettling as
Sam. It is as satisfying to see him
succeed, as it is to see him fail.
“Under the Silver Lake” plants
a thousand seeds and reaps every
single one. Although inane, the trail
Sam follows is airtight. Every twist
and turn pays off. As he did with
his other two features, Mitchell
reimagines what is possible for
a genre and pushes his film well
beyond the limits of the expected.
“Under the Silver Lake” is brilliantly
acted, a perfect neo-noir and a biting
social commentary. And it’s fun —
it’s so much fun.
Cannes: ‘Under
the Silver Lake’
A24