The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Tuesday, September 25, 2018 — 5

You know the old platitude 

that 
someone 
is 
(insert 

compliment) for a (typically 
disparaged group)? To get an 
accurate review of Facebook 

Watch’s newest offering, “Sorry 
For Your Loss,” I’m going to 
have to dust it off. So yes, “Sorry 
For Your Loss” is good. For a 
Facebook Watch show. “Sorry 
for Your Loss” boasts a thought-
provoking premise not easily 
compared with others currently 
on television.

In the wake of her husband 

Matt’s (Mamoudou Athie, “The 
Front Runner”) sudden death, 
young widow Leigh (Elizabeth 
Olson, “Ingrid Goes West”) must 
cope with long-standing family 
drama, the expectation from 
others to just be OK again and 
the realization that she may not 
have known as much about Matt 
as she previously conceived. 
Ironically, what makes the show 
so original is part of the reason 
why it fell so flat — it’s as almost 
as though they had HBO-level 
ideas with a Freeform-level 
action plan. 

Despite the strong premise, 

the show does not elaborate 
from there. By the episode’s 
conclusion, I had no strong 
connection 
to 
any 
of 
the 

characters. Frankly, none felt 
engaging or likable. This very 
well could have been because 
Leigh is depicted as a barre class 
instructor who chooses to yell 
into a microphone to teach a 

class of 12 or because the mom 
reminded me of every difficult 
white woman I’ve ever seen in a 
Michael’s Craft Store.

This 
fault 
was 
only 

highlighted 
more 
by 
the 

raw realism of the general 
premise. 
Characters 
either 

felt incomplete, like Leigh’s 
sister Jules (Kelly Marie Tran, 
“Star Wars: The Last Jedi”), or 
inconsistent, like Leigh herself. 
Jules’s alcoholism is given as 
much depth as a kiddie pool; the 
chance to delve into her internal 
conflict of committing to her 
recovery while her life is not in a 
perfect vacuum was squandered 
in favor of her simply saying that 
she’s “better now.”

Moments like Leigh’s blow 

up at her grief group were 
unfounded. It’s understandable 
that the point was to show her 
unraveling, but the tone of the 
dialogue in the scene felt out 
of place. It was too comedic. 
Yes, dramedies are a thing, but 
an indication of a good one is a 
consistency in tone that “Sorry 
For Your Loss” lacks. Most 
importantly, I simply cannot 
place the trajectory of where this 
show will take us for multiple 
seasons. This show does not 
seem to have the entertainment 
value to carry an audience for 
years; it would fit into a mini-
series or even a film format much 
more comfortably.

After all, the exploration of 

loss and the process of grieving 
is definitely the show at its 
strongest. Rather than flatly 
mentioning through dialogue 
how happy Leigh and Matt were 
before his passing, the writers 
took a page from “This Is Us” 
with the inclusion of flashbacks. 
These flashbacks ensure that 
Matt is an actualized character, 
rather than just a tombstone 
that we have to feel sorrow for 
with every mention. Viewers 
are able to see their relationship, 
and make assumptions about 
its strengths and weaknesses 
for themselves instead of only 
hearing about it from Leigh’s 

perspective — a shrewd choice 
as a large fraction of the show is 
based around the holes in Leigh 

and Matt’s marriage.

The flashbacks are also used 

skillfully to illustrate the show’s 
central point: just how little we 
care about loss or death unless 
we are directly affected by it. 
There is a poignant moment 
midway through the episode 
where viewers flashback to pre-
death Leigh answering an advice 
column question about loss. She 
breezily answers that “it’s not 
the end of the world.” We then 
flash back to modern day, where 
Leigh’s world is evidently over. 
Viewers are forced to wrangle 
with the question, “why are 
we 
so 
uncomfortable 
with 

discussions of death?” I even 
internalized for a moment if this 
is why the show didn’t seem to 
initially pique my interest.

“Sorry 
For 
Your 
Loss” 

currently is the crown jewel 
of Facebook Watch, but on a 
pseudo-network 
that 
boasts 

the likes of “Ball in the Family” 
and 
the 
Degrassi-knock 
off 

“Five Points,” clearly it does not 
take a tremendous amount of 
entertainment value to become 
its standout. 

‘Sorry For Your Loss’ is 
good enough for what it is

TV REVIEW

ALLY OWENS

For the Daily

FACEBOOK WATCH

Kid-friendly horror movies 

are 
often 
looked 
at 
with 

suspicion, but it’s a genre I 
believe is important. I’m not 

saying you should traumatize 
your child by sitting them down 
and turning on “Hereditary,” 
but a movie that isn’t afraid 
to get creepy or have real 
stakes can offer formative 
experiences 
and 
valuable 

lessons to young audiences, 
teaching them not to stigmatize 
negative emotions like fear 
— a familiar notion for those 
familiar with Pixar’s “Inside 
Out” — because sometimes 
things have to get scary in 
order for there to be a happy 
ending. Movies like “Coraline,” 
“ParaNorman” and even the 
original 
“Ghostbusters” 
all 

attest to this in different ways.

With that philosophy in 

mind, I was excited for the 
latest entry in the genre, “The 
House with a Clock in Its 

Walls,” an adaptation of the 
1973 book of the same name 
by John Bellairs. Directed by 
torture porn king Eli Roth 
(“Death Wish”), of all people, 
it follows 10-year-old Lewis 
Barnavelt 
(Owen 
Vaccaro, 

“Daddy’s 
Home 
2”), 
who 

moves in with his eccentric 
uncle Jonathan (Jack Black, 
“Don’t Worry, He Won’t Get 
Far on Foot”) after the deaths 
of his parents and learns his 
uncle is a warlock searching 
for a sinister clock left in the 
wall of his home by its evil 
previous 
owner. 
Together 

with Jonathan and his uncle’s 
neighbor, a powerful witch 
named Florence Zimmerman 
(Cate Blanchett, “Ocean’s 8”), 
Lewis must uncover his own 
potential as a warlock and find 

‘House’ builds kid-horror 
goodwill then falls apart

“The House with 

a Clock in Its 

Walls”

Ann Arbor 20 + IMAX, 

Goodrich Quality 16

Universal Pictures

JEREMIAH VANDERHELM

Daily Arts Writer

FILM REVIEW

BROCKHAMPTON, the boy 

band at the intersection of internet 
hip-hop nerds and hip indie 
teenagers, have released their 
first project of the calendar year: 
iridescence. This project follows 
an immensely prolific 2017, during 
which they released three projects 
and ascended to minor stardom.

The clear strength of this 

album lies within the production 
and the arrangement. A well-
done motif in the production is 
the contrast between organic 
and industrial: swelling, earthy 
strings juxtaposed with distorted 
kicks 
and 
dissonant 
synths, 

elegant piano parts undercut with 
frantic synthetic drum breaks, 
beautiful vocals lines bathed in 
artificial effects and vocoders; 
the strength of the production is 
found in the transient moments 
at the intersection of the natural 
and manmade. Some moments, 
such as the transition between 
“NEW ORLEANS” and “THUG 
LIFE,” are truly inspired. The 
album is overflowing with ideas, 
yet some of the strengths at times 
become flaws: the recklessness, 
the business, the bipolar swings 
in mood and energy. What makes 
the production so creative also 
threatens to throw iridescence into 
disarray and chaos.

Disappointingly, the vocalists 

are far less charismatic than any of 
their previous projects; there are 
no real quotables, and the lyrics, by 
leaning towards the introspective, 
sacrifice the irreverent humor and 
charisma of the Saturation trilogy. 
Part 
of 
BROCKHAMPTON’s 

appeal was that how much fun 
they were having shone through 
their work; that particular quality 
feels muted on this album. Joba 
has always been hit or miss, 
particularly when rapping, but it 
is on iridescence that this becomes 

painfully clear, as he has to pick 
up some of the slack left by Ameer 
Vann’s forced departure. He sets 
the tone for the album with a 
wince-inducingly corny verse on 
“NEW ORLEANS.” Worth noting 
is that his hits are still there, his 
part on “J’OUVERT” being one 
of the most memorable moments 
on the project. Matt Champion’s 
presence on the album is muted: 
He seems to appear less often 
than any other vocalist except for 
Bearface, and when he does it’s 
often forgettable.

While BROCKHAMPTON is 

clearly continuing to grow and 
develop on iridescence, some 
of their clichés are becoming 
tiresome. The autotuned falsettos 
are starting to become old, and 
most of their slow songs still use 
the production as a crutch for 
weak songwriting and uninspired 
harmonic structures, giving off an 
impression not unlike expensive 
ornaments on a plastic tree. What 
played a great role in the band’s 
explosion in popularity was their 
ability to sound unlike anyone else 
on the scene. But after saturating 
the market with four full-length 
projects in a little over a year, they 
don’t possess that same freshness.

Still, there are some great 

cuts: “WHERE THE CASH AT” 
is maybe the eeriest song off 
the album, a pulsing industrial 
beat laid over with rapidfire 
heavily-filtered 
Merlyn 
and 

Matt Champion verses, the final 
product having the not-unpleasant 
effect of boring into your head. 
“WEIGHT” is excellent, sonically 
dynamic 
and 
emotionally 

complex. The sappy string section 
and swelling chorus that open 
it up threaten to turn the song 
mawkish, but the band manages 
to avoid that particular pitfall, 
instead creating a piece that is 
spectral and moving. “DISTRICT” 
is an upbeat distorted track that 
locks into a neurotic groove, while 
the vocalists all come through 
with some of their best work on 
the album. The beat cools off 
in an outro containing an Isaac 
Brock-influenced guitar part and 
some robotic vocal overlays. The 
transition from “J’OUVERT” to 
“HONEY” is probably the best 
executed concept on iridescence 
(it’s a shame that the robotic 

hook on the latter track falls so 
flat). “SAN MARCOS” is “slow 
BROCKHAMPTON” done right — 
too often they fall into blandness 
when they attempt these sensitive 
songs, but something about this 
track feels much more purposeful 
and structured.

BROCKHAMPTON’s greatest 

triumph on iridescence is their 
newfound 
ability 
to 
weave 

together their aggressive and 
sensitive sides. The Saturation 
trilogy would segregate these soft, 
introspective works into interludes 
and outros while the high-energy 
cuts took center stage. They hinted 
at a growing cohesiveness on 
Saturation III with the mid-tempo, 
moody “BLEACH.” It’s only on 
iridescence that they’ve succeeded 
at forcing their disparate styles to 
coexist peacefully.

If 
you’re 
a 
big 

BROCKHAMPTON fan, you will 
either love or hate this album — if 
you’re into the funky, catchy songs 
like “GOLD” and “SWEET,” there 
might not be much for you on this 
project. If you loved aggressive 
cuts like “HEAT” and others of its 
ilk, or if you found yourself drawn 
to reflective, heavily-produced 
songs like “BLEACH,” iridescence 
is deserving of a close listen.

BROCKHAMPTON’s 
latest is a creative mess

iridescence

BROCKHAMPTON

RCA Records

JONAH MENDELSON

Daily Arts Writer

ALBUM REVIEW

RCA RECORDS

“Sorry For Your 

Loss”

Series Premiere

Facebook Watch

Tuesday @ 9 p.m.

the clock before it brings about 
the end of the world.

For two-thirds of “The House 

with a Clock in Its Walls,” I was 
onboard. The characters and 
their personalities were well-
drawn, and they were brought 
to life with a set of lively 
performances from the entire 
cast, especially the adults. 
Jack Black and Cate Blanchett 
don’t 
seem 
like 
the 
most 

obvious pairing in theory, but 
on screen, their chemistry and 
friendly sniping back and forth 
quickly steals the show. Best 
of all, it’s genuinely unsettling 
and doesn’t always talk down 
to its target demographic. It 
has its failings, yes, mostly a 
set of unfunny fart jokes and 
jump scares — the fart jokes 
of horror — but there’s also 
foreboding production design 
and a mythology that Roth uses 
to build atmosphere and tell 
kids to embrace what makes 
them weird.

Then, as it enters its home 

stretch, 
everything 
falls 

apart. If you’ve ever taken a 
screenwriting 
class, 
you’ve 

been told that if you’re having 
a problem with your third 
act, you’re actually having a 
problem with your second. 
This is usually correct; the idea 
is that you spend your first two 
acts setting up pins that your 
third act will knock down. If 
we were to extend the bowling 
metaphor, Eli Roth spends the 
first 80 minutes of “The House 
with a Clock in Its Walls” 
setting up his pins, then spends 
the last 25 minutes of his movie 
urinating on them.

Strong characterization is 

replaced by garish, godawful 
CGI. 
Clever 
dialogue 
is 

replaced by flatly delivered 
clunkers like, “Come with us to 
the turret. It is a special turret.” 
Atmosphere and an almost 
Spielbergian sense of wonder 
— “The House with a Clock 
in Its Walls” was produced 
by 
Amblin 
Entertainment, 

Spielberg’s 
production 

company — falls away, leaving 

sight gags that wouldn’t be out 
of place in a “Minions” movie. 
For a story that champions 
embracing what makes you 
stand out, to see it fall prey to 
the same tropes that plague 
most kids movies and start 
condescending to its audience 
is disheartening.

There’s not much left by 

the end of “The House with 
a Clock in Its Walls” that can 
be said to be untouched by 
this, including its status as 
what could have been a good 
example of kid-friendly horror. 
It’s tarnished by what feels 
like a studio’s idea of “what 
kids are into these days,” and 
this is coming from someone 
who is usually very hesitant 
to call “studio interference” 
on anything. What could have 
been a formative experience 
for some of the kids in the 
theater ends by regarding them 
as worthy of little more than a 
shrug, and so it received the 
same from many of them as the 
credits rolled.

It’s only on 

iridescence 

that they’ve 

succeeded at 

forcing their 

disparate styles 

to coexist 

peacefully

This show 

does not seem 

to have the 

entertainment 

value to carry 

an audience for 

years

