The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Friday, October 5, 2018 — 5A

By Paul Coulter
©2018 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
10/05/18

Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle

Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis

10/05/18

ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:

Release Date: Friday, October 5, 2018

ACROSS
1 Take to the 
cleaners
5 Lay low
8 Pretty 
companion?
14 Windows 
alternative
15 Drop the ball
16 Dragster’s 
wheels
17 Wedding ring?
18 Class-conscious 
org.?
19 Charge
20 “Wow!” (2)
22 Actress Kate (2)
24 Cal. column (2)
25 Univ. aides (1)
28 Damage (1)
30 Helpless? (1)
32 Infamous Amin
33 Constriction of 
the eye’s pupil
35 Apple’s apple, 
e.g.
39 Hail, to Hadrian
40 All over again
41 “I’ll second that”
42 Result of 
polar ice melt 
graphically 
shown by the 
second part 
of six two-part 
puzzle answers
47 Isn’t idle
48 Deep blue
49 Track meet 
segment
50 Authenticity 
emblem
51 Parlor furniture 
item
53 Hot time in Haiti
54 Sinusitis docs (2)
56 Author Fleming 
(2)
57 Sign of nerves, 
maybe (2)
58 Happy hour spot 
(1)
61 Many an Omani 
(1)
63 Remaining loan 
amt. (1)
65 Individually
67 Dug, with “up”
69 Big times
73 A through E, at 
times
74 Sprout
75 Courteous
76 Snares with a 
loop

77 Med. show 
locales
78 Serve sparingly, 
with “out”

DOWN
1 “Say what?”
2 Dedicatee 
of Lennon’s 
“Woman”
3 McCartney’s title
4 Checkup
5 Applying a 
temporary tattoo
6 Boiling state
7 Scotch serving
8 Seven Wonders 
lighthouse
9 One from town
10 “Yada yada 
yada” letters
11 Jack-in-the-pulpit 
family
12 Fair
13 First place?
21 Mideast capital
23 Faulkner’s 
“__ Lay Dying”
25 Pageant toppers
26 It may be 
unsolicited
27 Daybreak?
29 Agile deer
31 Norse patron
34 Hard work

36 Fare filled and 
folded
37 Trattoria desserts
38 With no 
guarantee of 
payment
43 Cartography dot
44 Against
45 Reluctant risers
46 Barack’s 2010 
High Court 
appointee
51 Emphasize
52 That, in Tijuana

55 Snack chip
58 Much more than 
a sniffle
59 Samoa’s capital
60 Purges (of)
62 One may be 
stored in a barn
64 Advance
66 Sci-fi staples
68 Blacken, in a way
70 Copacabana city
71 Commonly torn 
ligament, briefly
72 Note

Who would have thought 
the mousy blond boy in “Dead 
Poets Society” would go on to 
have a multifaceted, successful 
career? 
After 
proving 
his 
caliber in the acting realm, 
Ethan 
Hawke 
has 
moved 
on to writing and directing. 
“Blaze,” 
his 
latest 
writer-
director 
project, 
showcases 
an astounding command of 
language, music and film.
“Blaze” 
follows 
the 
short-lived 
but 
passionate 
relationship between forgotten 
singer-songwriter 
Michael 
David Fuller (Ben Dickey) — 
stage name Blaze Foley — and 
his ex-wife Sybil Rosen (Alia 
Shawkat, “The Intervention”). 
As Foley strove to create a 
legacy, he cast aside the love 
of his life and descended into a 
state of loneliness, even as his 
following of admirers grew. 
Foley’s alcoholism and general 
self-destructive 
behavior 
allowed 
an 
unmatched 
rawness to seep into his music, 
ultimately 
leading 
to 
his 
downfall.
Few 
musical 
movies 
accomplish what Hawke crafts 
in “Blaze”: a symbiosis between 
soundtrack and image. Often, 
in other attempts, the music 
takes over, turning the film 
into an extended music video. 
Or, the film overpowers a score 
that lacks, simply put, good 

music. In “Blaze,” though, the 
music and the filmic elements 
are both stars and neither fade 
to the background.
“Blaze” 
hops 
between 
a 
radio show discussing Foley’s 
legacy, a recreation of Foley’s 

final performance and snippets 
of his relationship with Rosen. 
Rosen’s book “Living in the 
Woods in a Tree: Remembering 
Blaze” and co-writer credit on 
the film lends authority and 
intimacy to the story. Her and 
Hawke’s screenplay reads like 
a constant flow of poetic lyrics 
with countless moments that 
induce snaps of appreciation.
The 
scenes 
are 
choreographed 
with 
breathtaking 
precision 
and 
a whimsical wandering that 
keeps the story human and 
not 
the 
larger-than-life, 
unrealistic 
dream-reaching 
narrative of other musical 
movies. Montages of Foley 
and Rosen’s time in the woods 
display the deep connection 
the two shared, which makes 
their parting from one another 
all the more tragic.
Despite the beautiful and 
structured 
shots, 
Hawke’s 
overall 
style 
verges 
on 
a 
documentary. He pans over 

the indifferent faces of the 
audience at the bar, unaware 
they are witnessing the final 
hours of Blaze Foley’s life. They 
are oblivious of the genius 
before them. The detached 
directing plays off the stripped 
and tender songs with potent 
results. 
The 
casting 
decision 
to 
use real musicians who can 
act, rather than teach actors 
how to be musicians, allows 
the soundtrack to work its 
magic: with authenticity and 
no distractions. Dickey and 
Charlie Sexton (“Boyhood”), 
in the role of friend and fellow 
songwriting 
icon 
Townes 
Van Zandt, as well as Kris 
Kristofferson 
(“A 
Star 
is 
Born”) don’t have to fake play 
the guitar or lip sync. Sexton 
has performed with Bob Dylan, 
Kristofferson was a member of 
The Highwaymen with Waylon 
Jennings, Willie Nelson and 
Johnny Cash and Dickey has 
his own album. Together, they 
provide convincing and moving 
renditions of folk music that 
defined an era. 
Hawke could have chosen 
celebrity, trained actors for the 
main roles (as the cameos from 
award-winners Sam Rockwell, 
Richard Linklater and Hawke 
himself 
show), 
but 
using 
actual 
musicians 
reinforces 
the poetry and realness of the 
film. His instincts result in a 
profound and sensational film 
in “Blaze,” confirming Hawke 
as a triple threat.

MEGHAN CHOU
Daily Arts Writer

IFC FILMS

Loretta Lynn remains the 
queen of classic country 

After 
a 
nearly 
yearlong 
setback from a stroke, Loretta 
Lynn released her latest album, 
Wouldn’t 
It 
Be 
Great, 
this 
past Friday, Sept. 28th; It was 
everything a Lynn fan could hope 
for, and more. The album features 
13 songs, with a welcome mix of 
new material, like the title track 
and “Ruby’s Stool,” and updated 
classics, like her hallmark “Coal 
Miner’s Daughter” and “Don’t 
Come Home a’ Drinkin’.” Those 
who are diehard, old-fashioned 
classic country fans can rest 
assured that Lynn compromises 
none of her usual flair and style in 
her latest release, preserving both 
her own musical integrity and the 
history and culture of the classic 
country genre as a whole.
A 
master 
of 
her 
craft, 
Lynn’s album is like a warm 
welcome home, never losing 
the 
characteristic 
twang 
or 
no-nonsense 
candor 
of 
the 
genre. Yet while every song has 
a distinctive sense of familiarity, 
from Lynn’s usual sass in “Ruby 
Stool” to the lonesome cry of 
“I’m Dying for Someone to Live 
For,” the material never feels 
lazy or reused. Rising to stardom 
much later in life — already a 
wife and mother by the time 
she was a household name — 
Lynn broke barriers by writing 
songs about her experiences as 
a housewife. Her blunt honesty 
and oddly matched innocence 
made her songs stand out in a 
genre dominated by the same 
rough-and-tough men she sang 
of in her music. Lynn touched 
upon everything from her marital 
conflicts with her husband, Oliver 
“Doo” Lynn, in songs such as 
“Don’t Come Home a’ Drinkin’,” 
to showing her feisty personality 
and the feminine perspective, 
in songs like “You Ain’t Woman 
Enough.”
Once 
again, 
Lynn’s 
songs 
hit home in her new album. 

Lynn’s opening song “Wouldn’t 
it be Great” is almost chilling, 
the 
repetition 
of 
the 
lyrics 
emphasizing the underlying sense 
of bitterness and loss as Lynn 
laments love lost to vice. Lynn’s 
inspiration came primarily from 
her own life and relationships — 
an acknowledgement that makes 
her song even more cutting. Lines 
such as: “The bottle took my place, 
love went to waste” transcend 
beyond the genre and the artist, 

and prove to be a stark reminder of 
how the intimacy of Lynn’s music 
captures the hearts and minds 
of millions. “Ruby Stool” brings 
some relief as Lynn is pitted 
against a troublesome young rival, 
and defiantly decides to put her 
in her place by “sittin’ on Ruby’s 
stool” — a song reminiscent of 
her classic “You Ain’t Woman 
Enough.” Finally, “Darkest Day,” 
“The Big Man” and “These Old 
Blues” harken to the heyday of 
classic country, reminiscent of 
both Lynn’s earlier career hits and 
those of her contemporaries.
Lynn branches out stylistically 
with songs like “God Makes No 
Mistakes,” where her age and 
experience are more tangible 
in her somber reflection on the 
cruelties of life in reconciliation 
with her faith. “Ain’t No Time To 
Go” similarly displays a heavier, 
more weary tone in its intro 
and subject matter, addressing 
the idea of losing a partner or 
loved one and having to live 
on without them — a possible 
reference to the death of Lynn’s 
first husband, whom she had 
been married to since she was 13 
years old. These songs strike a 
strong contrast to feisty numbers 
like “Ruby’s Stool” and previous 
hits like “Honky Tonk Girl” — 
both of which capitalized on 
Lynn’s image as a spirited young 

woman. While Lynn doesn’t show 
any hint of slowing down, these 
songs convey a distinct change in 
style brought on by her long life 
and advancing age. Much of her 
album focuses on central themes 
of loss and running out of time, 
with some songs in her album 
reminiscent of the legendary 
Johnny Cash’s later recording 
sessions. However, Lynn avoids 
the bone-weary attitude of Cash 
in her album, instead matching 
her powerful voice with the sense 
of self-reflection that comes from 
experience.
The album ends with Lynn’s 
crowd-pleasers 
“Don’t 
Come 
Home a’ Drinkin’” and “Coal 
Miner’s Daughter.” Lynn shows 
that 
despite 
the 
years 
that 
have past, she’s never lost her 
touch. Her revamp of “Coal 
Miner’s Daughter” stays true 
to the original, with a slightly 
brighter tune from a busier 
instrumentation — a change 
which adds a subtle touch of 
modernity without losing the true 
spirit of the song. Often referred 
to simply as The Coal Miner’s 
Daughter, the album’s finale is a 
testament to Lynn’s career, and 
reminds the world that Loretta 
Lynn isn’t going anywhere just 
yet. As Lynn sings “Well a lot of 
things have changed since way-
back-when” it feels as if she has 
come full-circle, a reflection 
on her career, which spanned 
decades, and going back even 
farther to the young girl from 
Butcher’s Hollow who had never 
dreamed of such stardom. Just as 
Lynn wrote herself, “It’s so good 
to be back home again,” her album 
certainly feels like a homecoming. 
But, 
more 
importantly, 
the 
survival of Lynn’s career into the 
21st century can also be seen as a 
beacon of hope — a rallying point 
— for the struggling working class 
of Coal Country, U.S.A. While this 
Coal Miner’s Daughter stands 
loud and proud, so too can the 
communities of rural Appalachia 
retain their own pride and dignity 
in an era that wishes to forget 
them. 

MADELEINE GANNON
For the Daily

ALBUM REVIEW

“Blaze”

IFC Films

State Theatre

What ‘The Book Thief’ 
taught me about death

Jul. 2009: I’m lying in the 
scratchy sheets of a hotel bed 
in the Grand Oasis, Cancun, 
Mexico. It’s past midnight, too 
late for a 10-year-old girl to be 
awake. I can hear the rustling 
leaves of the palm trees along 
the ocean shore, yells of spring-
breakers 
running 
through 
the sand and the breathing 
of my mother sleeping beside 
me. But I don’t listen to them, 
really. My world is consumed 
by the book I hold in front of 
me, staring back with its dark 
brown cover of destruction 
and harsh black lines scrawled 
on top of the chaos. They read, 
“The Book Thief.”
I’m not sure who told me to 
read the “The Book Thief” as a 
fifth-grader with frizzy black 
hair tied into a messy ponytail, 
who had lost all her baby teeth 
and confidently labeled herself 
as a bookworm but knew 
nothing about death. And very 
little about Nazi Germany, 
for that matter. Regardless, 
here I was on a fun family 
vacation crying my heart out 
after frantically flipping over 
the last page of the novel and 
realizing that the ending was 
just as painful as I had dreaded.
For those unfamiliar with 
the novel, “The Book Thief” 
follows the story of nine-year-
old Liesel Meminger, an orphan 
taken in by a German couple, 
Hans and Rosa Hubermann, 
during the height of Hitler’s 
reign. Traumatized by the 
death of her younger brother 
and shocked at the state of 

the country, Liesel turns to 
reading. Stealing books from 
the mayor’s library becomes 
a ritual undertaken with her 
partner-in-crime Rudy Steiner, 
who falls in love with Leisel 
within days of meeting her.
Reading 
is 
Liesel’s 
everything: 
her 
joy, 
her 
sadness, her escape from the 
crumbling world around her. 
Crouched in a shelter, Liesel 
reads to her neighborhood 
while the bombs fall around 
them. When Liesel’s foster 
family safeguards Max, a Jew, 
in their basement for years, 
Liesel reads to him. Every time 
I closed my eyes and thought of 
Liesel, I saw myself. We were 
the same age. Had the same 
curiosity 
about 
the 
world. 
Wanted everything to be fair 
and grew frustrated when 
it wasn’t. But Liesel would 
experience death. Real, heart 
wrenching death. My only 
concern at the time was how I 
looked in the neon purple one-
piece swimsuit I had bought 
the week before, and why my 
parents didn’t let me near the 
water bar when everyone else 
was allowed to be there.
Spoiler alert: Everyone in 
“The Book Thief” dies at the 
end. At least, to my 10-year-old 
self, everyone that mattered. 
In fact, the whole novel is 
narrated by Death, who claims 
within the first few pages that 
he will “take us all” in the end. 
He hints that major characters 
like Hans and Rosa will be no 
more by the last page. That 
Rudy will never get a kiss from 
Liesel as long as he lives. But I 
just couldn’t believe it. Death 
was pushed right in front of 
my face, narrating Liesel and 

Rudy’s world, and I wasn’t 
convinced for a second. 
Something 
had 
to 
give 
eventually, and the final straw 
came in the form of Rudy’s 
lifeless body lying on the street 
after the final air raid. Rudy, 
the boy whose biggest ambition 
was to run in the Olympics 
as fast as Jesse Owens, and 
painted his body with black 
paint 
while 
running 
laps 
around the neighborhood track 
one night to prove it. I cried 
for Rudy, Liesel’s other half, 
the childish antics to her calm 
composure. I cried because 
Death had taken Rudy unfairly; 
he was only really a kid; he was 
really just like me.
Oct. 2018: nine years later, 
I’m glad that my inauguration 
to the idea of death happened 
the way it did. Liesel and 
Max, the Jew hidden in the 
basement, 
were 
the 
only 
survivors of the bombing on 
Himmel Street. And let me tell 
you, I woke the hell up. Ever 
since that night at Cancun I’ve 
known that death is sudden, 
never predictable. It can take 
people with whole lives ahead 
of them. Even those that you 
think could never be affected 
by it are.
This isn’t meant to be a 
sob fest. Death is inevitable, 
but also highly stigmatized. 
I would love to see a world 
where death is accepted as a 
necessary tradeoff for living 
a beautiful life. Death can be 
seen warmly as a celebration of 
living, a memoir of the story of 
an individual. Liesel and Rudy 
shared their story with me 
through ink on soft pages. One 
day we’ll all have our stories to 
pass on, too. 

TRINA PAL
Daily Arts Writer

BOOKS THAT BUILT US

Wouldn’t It Be 
Great

Loretta Lynn

Legacy Recordings

FILM REVIEW

