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