“Love
Has
a
Thousand
Shapes,” an exhibit now on
display at the Ann Arbor Arts
Center until Oct. 27, explores
the many ways in which love
manifests itself and tells tales
reflective of each artist’s personal
experience. While the point of
the exhibit is to demonstrate how
love can be just about anything,
the diverse works lack a common
ground to prove this point.
Artist
Justin
Marshall
depicts the love present in our
most
intimate
environments,
expressed
through
our
belongings, decor, pets, etc. In
“Jeff and Delorian,” a figure,
supposedly Jeff, stands facing
us with his cat tightly within his
grasp. He wears Mario boxers,
and behind him he has Garfield
sheets and a painting of Garfield
lovingly petting two humans as
they fall asleep.
One might ask, then, why
Marshall
wouldn’t
simply
photograph a moment like this.
It’s because photographs are
just that: depictions of things
at a particular moment, scenes
subject to change. What Marshall
hoped to show here were the
qualities of people, as expressed
by their pets, sheets, decorations
and attire that outlive this

singular moment. This is what
love means to Marshall.
Several of Judy Bowman’s
works also take on the theme
of love in the little things, but
focus primarily on the African
American
experience.
In
Bowman’s “Love Song,” we see a
couple that appear dressed to go
out, instead simply enjoying each
other’s company at home. Their
faces, constructed by no more
than five or six pieces of paper,

capture great emotion.
Although her works have
a real life to them, they don’t
particularly seem to fit the
theme of love apart from the one
shown here. Her collages capture

patterns, objects and scenes
prevalent in African American
life. They seem much more
oriented towards capturing this
experience than demonstrating
the love all around us.
Patrick
Burton
takes
the
abstraction one large step further
in his portrayals of love. Three
out of Burton’s four pieces on
display were colorful depictions
of hearts blooming out of flower
vases, backgrounded by intricate
ornaments and a variety of birds
and leaves. Here, the meticulous
act of putting together these
individually-cut pieces of wood
covered in paper maché, paint
and Swarovski crystals seems
like the expression of love itself.
The works look ready to be
delivered to the doorstep of
Burton’s lover to their great
delight.
Their
similarities
lead us to compare the subtle
differences in each. Each has
an inscription at the bottom
center. The first reads “1925,” the
second, “bubala” and the third,
“kookanut.”
Your guess is as good as mine
as to the meaning of each, but
it’s clear that Burton wants us
to ponder this question. The
terms
certainly
prevent
us
from dismissing the flowery
arrangements as mere wallpaper
or postcard material. They do
also, however, call into question
the genuinity of these works
as expressions of love. How
could Burton invest so much
time in carefully assembling
each of these pieces, embedding
Swarovski
crystals
in
each,
and then place phrases front
and center that seem to have
no inherent connection to the
patterns they foreground?
The
exhibit
advertised
itself as a collection of diverse
expressions of love, and it
certainly offered this diversity.
However, the variety of the
works does lead one to question
the broadness of the exhibit’s
theme. If art creation in itself is
an act of love, literally anything
could have found its way into the
exhibit.
Love is indeed present in
our lives at home with our
pets,
for
example,
but
the
exhibit missed talking points
— polyamorous relationships,
hookups, marriage, etc. — that
are all particularly relevant for
an exhibit representative of our
“diverse contemporary culture.”
While I suppose the point of
the exhibit was to point out
that love can present itself in
just about anything, the lack of
cohesion between the different
conversations of each artist
makes this point fall short of the
mark.

I’m going to be honest:
At what I figured to be the
halfway point of “Venom,”
I took stock of my feelings
and realized I liked what I
had seen so far. I don’t mean
to sound overly surprised by
this, but after “Spider-Man
3,”
“The
Amazing
Spider-
Man 2” and the 2014 Sony
Pictures email leaks revealed
an inability on the part of Sony
higher-ups
to
comprehend
what makes Spider-Man and
his rogues gallery work on any
level whatsoever, I can’t say
my hopes were particularly
high. Sitting there, though, I
reasoned that “Venom” wasn’t
anything special, but provided
the second half expanded on
the character arcs and shored
up the weak story, there was
something workable there.
Then the climax started and
the movie ended. “Oh,” I said,
“That’s it.”
The last two times they’ve
killed their fledgling Spider-
Series, Sony has done so by
cramming as many plotlines
and recognizable characters as
possible into a single, bloated
narrative. This time, in what
seems like a truly misguided
overcompensation,
they’ve
done the same thing — albeit
without Spidey himself, who
is
too
busy
appearing
in
competently written movies to
show up — by stripping their
story and characters down to
their bare bones and hoping
nobody notices that they still
don’t know what they’re doing.
Everything a good movie
should have, “Venom” has
almost exactly one half of.
It has the introduction of a

likeable lead in Eddie Brock
(Tom
Hardy,
“Dunkirk,”
doing his best Nick Miller
impression) and the beginning
of an arc that will see him, true
to the tagline, embracing his
inner anti-hero, but it doesn’t
ever return to or wrap up that

arc. By the end of the movie,
Eddie isn’t an anti-hero, he’s
just a superhero with a weird
tongue.
It
introduces
the
counterpoint
to
Eddie
in
Venom, the alien symbiote
which bonds with the idealistic
reporter, and includes the end
of the arc which sees him in
a different headspace than
he began, but it doesn’t show
how he got there. Point A
and Point B are there, but the
story and arc that would tie
them together and make for
a satisfying story are absent,
replaced with boring trudging
from one set piece to the next.
Eddie
and
Venom
simply
don’t interact with each other
enough outside of pithy one-
liners to have changed each
other in the way the film wants
you to believe.
It’s sure to cast a talented
actor as its villain, Carlton
Drake (Riz Ahmed, “Rogue
One: A Star Wars Story”), but it
fails to give him anything to do
outside of grating monologues
about how humanity is evil and

he’s the only one who can save
them. It seems to realize far
too late that nothing about him
is intimidating, but instead of
fixing the villain they’ve got,
they introduce another one at
the top of the third act who
— and I’m quoting Venom the
alien symbiote here — “has
got shit you ain’t never seen”
which
winds
up
meaning
knives, axes and other shit you
most certainly have seen.
There is some comedy that
works,
particularly
in
the
relationship between Eddie
and Venom, but more often than
not, it’s just uncomfortable.
Even when it goes for weird-
with-a-capital-W,
it’s
not
weird enough to be watchable
just for that. Sure, the scene
where Tom Hardy sits in a
lobster tank is the sort of
thing we’ll be meme-ing in a
few years, and yes, it features
one of the strangest onscreen
kisses in the history of film,
but do you really want to sit
through two hours of set ups
with no follow-through and
follow-throughs with no set up
for a few seconds of “Oh, dear
God?”
At
its
best,
“Venom”
is
occasionally
fun
and
personable, but it’s coming
out in a time when comic
book movies are supposed to
be more than just that. Last
year,
“Logan”
became
the
first
live-action
superhero
movie to be nominated for
a
screenwriting
Academy
Award, and the smart money
says that in a few months,
“Black Panther” will be a Best
Picture nominee. Sony wants
that kind of success with their
“Spider-Man” properties, but
“Venom” shows they’re still
not interested in putting in the
work.

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Tuesday, October 9, 2018 — 5

“Venom”

Ann Arbor 20 +
IMAX, Goodrich
Quality 16

Sony Pictures
Entertainment
Motion Picture
Group

‘Venom’ is half of a good
movie in almost every way

JEREMIAH VANDERHELM
Daily Arts Writer

SONY

The variety

of the works

does lead one

to question the

broadness of the

exhibit’s theme

FILM REVIEW

MUSIC

Cat Power’s Chan Marshall
is a master of her own sound.
She may not be the most
virtuosic instrumentalist, nor
a classically trained singer,
or even have a clear message,
but this doesn’t matter. Her
greatest talent lies in the
ether, in the raw intensity
of her soft-spoken lyrics and
imperfect piano that seem
to evoke every feeling at
once.
Marshall’s
music
as
Cat Power is heavy with the
quiet gravity of emotion and
longing, something that comes
to a peak on her newest record,
Wanderer. The album harkens
back to her earlier work on
critically acclaimed albums
like The Greatest, in which
Marshall weaves abstract yet
poignant storytelling, spare
instrumentation
and
her
uniquely
understated
voice
together to create cinematic
soundscapes. It seems fated
that Wanderer comes as Power’s

10th full-length production: In
every song, it is easy to hear
her influences from both past
and present come together to
make something filled with
an uncanny individuality. The
album marks an important
point in time for Marshall
after 20 years in music, as she
cuts a new and bright trail for

herself through the industry.
It wasn’t easy for Marshall to
release this album in the first
place, facing pushback from
her previous label, Matador,
to the point of breaking ties.
On the tails of her 2012 album
Sun’s success, which combined
her classic pared-down sound
with
heavier
electronic
production, the mainstream
sound of small-time hits like
“Manhattan” were the clear
path for Marshall to follow,
but instead the singer stayed
true to her own vision of the

future. And thank God she
did Wanderer, completely self-
written and self-produced, is a
tour de force. Marshall’s work
as Cat Power on this record
could be blues, folk, rock or
indie pop, but it’s difficult
to pin down. This is the best
part of her music by far, but
an understandable reason for
frustration from labels past.
Listening to Cat Power is like
trying to catch minnows; as
soon as you think you have
finally captured her in a
certain light, she slips right
through your fingers again,
dancing into another wistful
tangent.
The intangible quality of
Wanderer may be confusing
at first, but once a listener
has accepted it, each track
is an adventure of its own. A
clear standout is the Lana Del
Rey collaboration “Woman,”
the
album’s
second
single
and one of its most complex
arrangements. The song is
at once an anthem, soliloquy
and battle cry, ruminating on
the double-consciousness of
womanhood and the need for

The quiet gravity of Cat
Power’s new ‘Wanderer’

CLARA SCOTT
Daily Arts Writer

self-reliance in a world full of
doubters. Del Rey is a perfect
partner for Marshall on the
single and the two are clearly
kindred
spirits;
the
same
ethereal magic is present in
either musician’s work, and it
was only a matter of time until
they found each other. Directly
following “Woman” is the slow
ballad “Horizon,” a letter to
family as Cat Power leaves
home to face the open road. The
simplicity of the tune mirrors
“Woman”’s complications to
cradle the listener in comfort
and nostalgia that eventually
dissolves
into
fragmented
vocal
effects,
mimicking
the shimmer of the sun as it

goes down in the song. Other
highlights on Wanderer are
“You Get,” a bluesy collection
of angst and vocal layering that
collides
harmoniously,
and
Marshall’s unplugged piano-
and-strings cover of Rihanna’s
hit
“Stay,”
a
hauntingly
melodic ballad with immense
emotional weight.
The
record
begins
and
concludes
with
different
versions of the title track
“Wanderer,”
Marshall’s
meditation on love through
the lens of loss. “Wanderer”
and “Wanderer/Exit” are two
sides of the same coin, acting
as bookends to the rambling
emotional content of the album

at large. “Oh wanderer, I’ve
been wondering,” she sings,
“If your brown eyes still have
color, could I see?”
The 11 songs on Marshall’s
most recent opus set a parallel
between lover and wanderer,
on the uncertainty of it all
and the answer that music
can offer. It’s hard to know
whether to laugh or cry at any
given portion of the album, but
that is where its true beauty
hides. Cat Power is a vessel
for Chan Marshall’s purest
thoughts, and on Wanderer,
every moment comes through
crystallized,
suspended
in
time by her elusive magic.

Wanderer

Cat Power

Domino Recording

DOMINO RECORDS

COMMUNITY CULTURE
In ‘Love Has a Thousand
Shapes’ diversity stalls

BEN VASSAR
For the Daily

BEN VASSAR