By Mark McClain
©2018 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
10/23/18

Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle

Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis

10/23/18

ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:

Release Date: Tuesday, October 23, 2018

ACROSS
1 Colorist’s concern
4 Light brown pear
8 Hillary Clinton, 
née __
14 Horace’s “__ 
Poetica”
15 “The Mammoth 
Hunters” author 
Jean
16 Low-scoring tie
17 Big wheel, briefly
18 Controversial 
coal-extraction 
method
20 Wine lover’s prefix
22 Sport shown on 
TV Japan
23 Beer extraction 
gadget
24 Dues-paying 
participant
27 Spanish lady
30 Acquire
31 Isle of Arthurian 
legend
33 Woodland deity
36 Developmental 
insect stage
39 Luau accessory
40 Broadside 
accidents
43 A, in Augsburg
44 Small stores
45 Rather nasty
46 “__ Fideles”: carol
48 Corrode, with 
“away”
49 Macy’s section, 
e.g.: Abbr.
50 Format for some 
tournaments
57 “__ y Plata”: 
Montana motto
59 Bit of talk show 
self-promotion
60 Opal of the 
comics, to Earl 
Pickles
61 Meal suggested 
by the starts of 
four long answers
65 Deli salmon
66 Philadelphia 
campus
67 Building lot unit
68 __-ray Disc
69 Volkswagen 
family car
70 Rough file
71 Some ER cases

DOWN
1 Wreaked 
condition
2 One of the 
archangels

3 College sports 
channel
4 Music majors’ 
degs.
5 First stage
6 Blood bank 
supply
7 Upward trek
8 Film genre prefix 
with com
9 Words after work 
or sleep
10 “Gracias” 
response
11 Common people
12 Raggedy doll
13 Eldest of the 
“Little Women”
19 Author of eerie 
stories
21 Delivery MD
25 Least
26 Shankar on the 
sitar
28 Interminably
29 Ouzo flavoring
32 Poughkeepsie 
campus
33 Place
34 Put up with
35 Symphonic 
stories
36 British john
37 European peak
38 Dr. Jekyll creator’s 
monogram

41 “Burlesque” 
co-star
42 Being hauled to 
the garage
47 Sundress 
features
48 Lawn 
maintenance 
tools
51 Maker of Cajun 
Shrimp nail 
polish
52 Like the “funny 
bone” nerve

53 Never, in 
Nogales
54 “The Hobbit” 
hero
55 Bluffed-out 
words, perhaps
56 Connection
58 Sooner St.
61 Car care brand
62 Pot contents
63 Police rank: 
Abbr.
64 Weight-training 
unit

Nearly every day when I came 
home from middle school, I would 
turn on the TV to find that TNT 
was once again airing “Charmed.” 
Though the show originally aired 
long before I had progressed 
from the likes of Disney and 
Nickelodeon, 
I 
found 
myself 
drawn to its reruns. What more 
could a 13-year-old girl ask for? 
Witches, demons, love stories and 
three powerful sisters — it was a 
helplessly cheesy series I couldn’t 
get enough of, and I’m not the only 
one.
The mention of the original 
“Charmed” conjures a memory in 
many people — mostly women — 
of watching it with their moms, at 
sleepovers or just by themselves 
when they were home sick from 
school.
Perhaps this nostalgia is what 
inspired The CW to bring it back 
— its feminist-centric reboot of 
“Charmed” has just premiered. 
There are some differences: The 
women of the original “Charmed” 
were 
updated 
to 
the 
much-
younger Mel, Macy and Maggie. 
Notwithstanding 
the 
name 
changes, the series plot remains 
pretty much the same: Two of the 
girls find a sister they never knew 
they had, their mother is dead 
and there are demons constantly 

hunting them.
The pilot quickly establishes 
the personalities of each of the 
girls: Maggie, the youngest (Sarah 
Jeffery, “Shades of Blue”), is 
an incoming college freshman 
looking to rush a sorority; Mel, 
the middle sister (Melonie Diaz, 
“The First Purge”), is a stern 
graduate student heavily involved 
in feminist activism. Mel and 
Maggie lived together with their 
mom their whole life, so they are 
shocked when after their mom’s 
death, Macy (Madeleine Mantock, 
“Age Before Beauty”), a brainy new 

hire at the college nearby, shows 
up at their door telling them she’s 
their sister.
From here, the show follows 
the traditional “Charmed” route. 
The sisters meet the cheeky 
whitelighter Harry (Rupert Evans, 
“The Man in the High Castle”) 
who explains to the charmed ones 
that they are powerful witches, 
just like their mother, and that he 
has powers of his own. This sets 
the main conflict of the pilot, with 

the sisters deciding whether they 
want to accept their magical fate.
With all of the similarities 
to the original “Charmed,” the 
reboot had to make some changes 
to establish itself as something 
new. This comes through the often 
heavy-handed “wokeness” that 
permeates the pilot. Some of the 
representation comes naturally 
— all three sisters are women 
of color and the fact that Mel is 
openly gay is less of a plotline than 
a simple detail. The show does 
not want you to forget how woke 
they are, delivering such lines as, 
“Being a witch is a full pro-choice 
enterprise,” and slipping in a dig at 
Donald Trump.
Some may point this out as a 
glaring flaw in the show, but as 
someone that used to watch the 
original “Charmed” religiously, I 
have to disagree. You don’t go to the 
network that airs such mindless, 
guilty-pleasure 
television 
like 
“Riverdale” looking for a top-
quality show. Nobody is going to 
turn on “Charmed” expecting a 
high-caliber script and Emmy-
award winning acting. The viewers 
are going to be people just like I was 
— mostly young, mostly female, 
mostly looking for something 
to entertain them. And if that 
thing just happens to be a show 
that promotes true sisterhood, 
progressive feminism and modern 
pro-women movements, I see no 
problem with that. 

‘Charmed’ revamp brings 
little to the witchy series

SAMANTHA DELLA FERRA
Daily Arts Writer

TV REVIEW

THE CW

‘Bad Times’ conjures ’60s 
nightmares and dreams

Nestled in the pine woods not 
far from Lake Tahoe stands the 
El Royale Hotel, a palace of kitsch 
bisected by the Calif.-Nev. border 
where guests can choose which 
state they would like to stay in. In 
the ’50s it was quite the happening 
place, but today it stands silent and 
empty, taking only the occasional 
guest — a monument to a bygone 
era of bright-eyed American 
optimism. This is where writer-
director Drew Goddard (“The 
Cabin in the Woods”) lays his 
scene in his new film “Bad Times 
at the El Royale.” Set over the 
course of one night, the film 
follows six strangers, the only 
guests at the eponymous hotel. 
Among them is an aging priest 
(Jeff Bridges, “Only the Brave”), 
a 
travelling 
vacuum-cleaner 
salesman (Jon Hamm, “Tag”) and 
a struggling jazz singer (Cynthia 
Erivo, “Widows”). Each of these 
people has a secret, and as the 
night drags on, the guests will 
learn that not all is as it seems at 
the El Royale.
I won’t mince words: “Bad 
Times” was the most fun I’ve had 
watching a movie all year. From 
start to finish, the film crackles 
with energy and an ever-building 
momentum that doesn’t let up 
until the credits roll. This is 
largely thanks to the film’s uber-
talented cast which features 
incendiary performances from 
both its established A-listers and 
its up-and-comers. Particularly 
impressive are the performances 
given by Bridges and Erivo. 
Bridges brings surprising depth to 
his often gritty exterior as Father 
Daniel Flynn, a priest struggling 
with the onset of dementia. Erivo, 
meanwhile, gives the powerhouse 
performance of the film as 
Darlene Sweet, a jazz singer who 
never found her big break. Erivo 

all but disappears into the kind 
hearted but jaded singer who’s 
seen far too much injustice in 
her lifetime; she plays Darlene 
with energy, empathy and an 
unmistakable hint of rage at a 
world that has never seemed to 
give her a moment’s rest.
Throughout its nearly two and 
a half hour runtime (which, mind 
you, never once feels drawn out 
or tedious), the film draws on a 
number of stylistic inspirations 
ranging from the pulp serials 
and B-movies of the ’50s and ’60s 
to the character-driven action 
stylings of Quentin Tarantino. 
That said, to simply call the film 
a tribute piece and leave it at that 
would be wildly underselling the 
directing and storytelling chops of 
Drew Goddard. Unexpectedly one 
of the most visually enthralling 
films of the year, Goddard’s 

camerawork takes the audience 
creeping and swerving through 
the cavernous El Royale, no 
doubt a nod to Stanley Kubrick’s 
iconic tracking shots in “The 
Shining.” What’s more, Goddard 
masterfully weaves a story that 
reaches a thematic depth which 
elevates the film beyond being 
just another style-over-substance 
venture. Goddard isn’t looking to 
merely replicate his favorite pulp 
films; he has got something to say.
Running through the film 
like the bright red line that runs 
through the middle of the El 
Royale is an exploration of binary 
choice. American society is all 
about binary choices: Coke or 
Pepsi, Apple or Android, liberal 
or conservative. But, Goddard 

asks, do any of these choices really 
matter? Does the outcome truly 
differ, or is the appearance of 
choice merely a tool with which 
to placate the everyman in a world 
that is moving increasingly out of 
his control? The El Royale’s entire 
business model is based on selling 
guests the (meaningless) choice 
between a room in Nev. and a 
room in Calif. This is where “Bad 
Times” truly separates itself from 
the pack in terms of “homage” 
films; 
Goddard 
writes 
with 
purpose and intent. The film is all 
about illusory facades — choice 
where there is no choice, kindness 
where there is hatred. It’s for this 
reason that the gaudy retrofuturist 
stylings 
of 
the 
’50s 
should 
serve as the perfect aesthetic 
backdrop for the film; beneath 
the mask of post-war American 
prosperity and optimism lay a 
nation plagued with xenophobia, 
nationalism and racial unrest. 
Behind 
Dwight 
Eisenhower’s 
clean-cut military polish lay a 
government committing human-
rights atrocities around the globe. 
The world of “Bad Times” exists 
to serve its story and its message, 
not the other way around. 
Genre films are often dismissed 
by critics and cinephiles to the 
point where the label has become 
almost condescending. With “Bad 
Times at the El Royale,” Drew 
Goddard proves that production 
value, creative ingenuity and 
attention to detail need not be 
reserved for the latest Oscar-
winning drama from Tom Hanks 
and company. The film deserves 
to be discussed as more than just 
a genre-homage, and if this film 
doesn’t generate any buzz come 
awards season, it will have been 
a criminal injustice. A complete 
thrill-ride from start to finish with 
a thought-provoking message to 
boot, “Bad Times at the El Royale” 
is undoubtedly one of 2018’s best 
releases.

MAX MICHALSKY
Daily Arts Writer

20TH CENTURY FOX

FILM REVIEW

“Bad Times at 
the El Royale”

20th Century Fox

Goodrich Quality 16

There’s a music venue about 
15 minutes away from my home 
called Ravinia Festival. It’s a 
beautiful outdoor space tailor-
made for an ideal summer 
evening sitting on an expansive 
lawn listening to the BoDeans or 
assorted almost-corpses from The 
Beach Boys. Naturally my family 
buys a cheese plate or two, packs 
about 40 blankets and candles and 
heads to Ravinia for a night every 
July.
When I think of these nights, I 
think of cargo shorts. I don’t know 
why. It could be that most of my 
memories from Ravinia seem to be 
lodged firmly between 2004 and 
2007. It might be that most of the 
old people I was with at Ravinia 
were, in fact, rocking cargo shorts. 
More likely, in recounting some of 
my earliest cultural immersions of 
any form, I’ve confounded a North 
suburban Chicago music venue, a 
timeless look and those above me 
who introduced me to music.
That’s how we end up here: at 
parents, and music. Because both, 
together, mean a lot to many.
Formative listening is one of 
my favorite things. I realize it 
might be tender or sensitive for 
some folks, but I also think it’s 
very healthy for the soul — even 
to just think about. It’s something 
I do often, and it’s something I 
think you should do too: Listen to 
your mom’s music every once in a 
while.

I’m not really sure what that 
means either, but for the purposes 
of this exploration, allow me to 
walk you through my mother’s 
music.
Ever 
heard 
of 
Joan 
Armatrading? I hadn’t either, 
until she soundtracked my mom’s 
weekly Mah Jongg games in our 
kitchen during my elementary 
years. I don’t particularly enjoy 
Joan Armatrading’s music, but 
I enjoy hearing about my mom’s 
Joan Armatrading tradition: Each 
year, when Armatrading plays 
Chicago, she heads to the City 
Winery (apparently a real place 
where things happen) with the 
same friend (who may or may not 
exist) who has been accompanying 
her to Armatrading concerts for 
years. I really like the sentiment 
and story. Joan Armatrading 
is, consequently, a good dose of 
medicine.
More 
digestible? 
Mary 
J. 
Blige. There’s a song she sings 
— it’s called “Just Fine” — that’s 
impossible, physically, to resist 
tapping your foot to, and before 
you know it, you’re dancing at 
5:00 p.m. on a Friday again, 
because Shabbat is imminent 
and the table needs to be set up 
before the grandparents arrive. 
That vignette might have been 
me exclusive. But that’s what my 
mom listens to, so I listen too.
There comes a point in the road 
— not a metaphorical road, a real 
road — where you need to break 
it down. If you’re my mom, this 
is most of the time. If you’re me, 

this is rare. If you’re human, you 
listen to Valee’s “Womp Womp,” a 
new favorite for my mother. When 
drives to the grocery store become 
parties 
and 
drivers 
become 
dance circle commandeers, this 
is where we turn. It’s where my 
mom turns, at least, and for that 
I am thankful. It’s fun to womp 
womp. If you’re buying the womp, 
don’t stress over its source. Your 
dad’s music? Sure. Siblings, aunts, 
uncles, grandparents too. If your 
best friend has stuff you like, go 
for it.
Much of this column has been 
thematically 
centered 
around 
different types of proverbial 
“resets.” I haven’t done this on 
purpose, but the trend also kind 
of makes sense. As I’m nearing the 
end of my writing process for this 
piece, my mind is consumed by 
worry about my lack of ideas for 
future columns. I’m also thinking 
about which frozen Trader Joe’s 
meal I will heat up for dinner, 
why I will choose taquitos for 
the second night in a row and 
how I’d like to stay away from a 
column with a “how much other 
work I need to do” cliché. But now 
there’s way too much meta going 
on, which is probably even worse. 
Ultimately this column will need 
to end with jumbled thoughts 
before opening Spotify to propel 
me through my next chunk of 
work. I have the Sunday Scaries, 
I’d like a semblance of familiarity 
amidst other general chaos and 
I need an excuse to listen to Van 
Morrison.

JOEY SCHUMAN
Daily Health & Wellness Columnist

HEALTH AND WELLNESS COLUMN

I like to listen to my 
mom’s music

“Charmed”

Series Premiere

Sundays @ 9 p.m.

The CW

6 — Tuesday, October 23, 2018
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

