“Twenty-five 
years 
ago, 
I 

killed my mother.” It is with this 
jarring line that Sarah Zettel first 
introduces readers to the chaotic 
world of the Monroe sisters in her 
latest novel, “The Other Sister.” The 
story is told from the perspectives 
of Geraldine and Marie Monroe 
as they reconnect after years apart 
following the suspicious death of 
their mother. Geraldine believes 
she is responsible for her mother’s 
death, but the true details soon 
become clear and what actually 
happened is much more complex 
than 
the 
average 
whodunnit 

mystery.

At the start of the novel, the 

reader is kept in the dark. You know 
the sisters’ mother is dead but do not 
know how she died or who exactly 
was involved. You know Martin, 
their father, has done unspeakable 
things to his daughters but not what 
those things are. You also know 
the sisters have come together 
under the guise of celebrating the 
graduation of Marie’s son, but are 
in fact planning to do something 
terrible to Martin.

Martin is an irritating and 

pompous man who is easy to 
hate because he is an incredibly 
creepy and disgusting person. 
Much of the novel revolves around 
the relationship he has with his 
daughters and the ways he has 
abused them during both their 

childhoods and adult lives. Marie 
is seen as “the good sister” who 
is kept on a chain at the beck and 
call of Martin. While Marie’s life 
revolves around serving her father, 
Geraldine, the self-described “bad 
sister,” has spent her life trying 
to escape her deranged family. 
Although the idea of the good and 
bad sister is hammered home in the 
novel, the characters themselves 

are not so clear cut. Both sisters 
make questionable choices that lead 
to more drama and in some cases, 
death. Their controversial decisions 
make them hard to care about at 
times, but also reflect the blurred 
lines of good and bad present in all 
people.

The details of what happened the 

night of their mother’s death and 
what their father has done to push 
the sisters to the brink are revealed 
in a series of flashbacks over the 
course of the novel. However, as 
their plans for revenge against their 
father unfold and the nature of their 
mother’s death becomes clearer, the 
plot seems to drive the characters 
more than the characters drive 

the plot. The goals of the sisters 
sometimes change on a whim if 
doing so will add drama to the 
story, and they act out of character 
on more than one occasion. As the 
story progresses the sisters make 
the decision to never speak of their 
plans for their father and act as if 
nothing is going on to ensure they 
will not be found out if questioned 
by the police. Their acting makes 
sense in the context of the plot, but 
makes it difficult to determine who 
Marie and Geraldine really are and 
what they truly desire. Readers 
can never be sure when they are 
putting on a show or are actually 
saying what they mean, which 
distances them from the sisters and 
disconnects them from the story.

One of the most interesting 

aspects of the novel is the attention 
it gives to the role of women 
in classic fairytales. Geraldine 
is a lecturer on folklore at the 
university where she teaches, and 
excerpts from her fictional book 
“Fairy Tales in the Real World” are 
provided at the beginning of most 
chapters. The excerpts offer unique 
insight into the portrayal of females 
in folklore and the stories they 
inhabit, as well as how patriarchal 
influence is alarmingly present in 
the stories so many children grow 
up with.

While “The Other Sister” has 

many flaws in its characters and 
plot, its fairytale influences (as 
well as its twisted characters and 
storylines) make for an unexpected 
and entertaining read.

November 19, 2018

‘Suspiria’ is slow burning, 
but must-see nightmare

“Suspiria,” directed by Luca 

Guadagnino (“Call Me By Your 
Name”) and a remake of the 
1977 cult classic of the same 
name, revolves around Markos 
Dance 
Academy’s 
newest 

student, Susie Bannion (Dakota 
Johnson, “Bad Times at the El 
Royale”). Meanwhile, a student 
named Patricia (Chloë Grace 
Moretz, “Carrie”) flees the 
school under the conviction 
that it is the home to a coven of 
witches. 

While 
the 
narrative 
is 

unfortunately bogged down by 
a glut of story threads that do 
not come together cohesively, 
the movie provides more than 
enough 
ominous 
mysticism 

and 
excruciating 
gore 
for 

horror fans.

The deeply twisted story 

takes place in six acts and 
an epilogue, and this level 
of 
compartmentalization 

allows Guadagnino to build a 
brooding, queasy tone for the 
first few segments. Much of the 
film relies on the anticipation 
of a grand brutal payoff. When 
these payoffs arrive, often in 
the form of dance rituals, they 
are both unfathomably graphic 
and too stunning to look away 
from. 

The violence is surely not for 

everyone, but such sequences 
demonstrate 
Guadagnino’s 

powerful control over his craft 
and are confidently some of the 
most frightening of the year. 
One particular scene involving 
a training room with mirrored 
walls creates some cutting 
imagery of dancer’s anatomy 
that is hard to forget. When 
these moments occur, they 
resonate so viscerally, they do 
not quite leave one’s mind for 
the rest of the movie, or even 
after the credits roll. That 
being said, what “Suspiria” 

lacks is appropriate pacing. 
The slow burn of the film 
leaves far too much empty time 
between moments of intensity 
to get a sense of narrative 
momentum.

The reason for this lack 

of momentum is the same 
reason the film’s runtime is 
two hours and 32 minutes, 
almost an hour longer than 
the original. Guadagnino, for 
all his horror skills, can’t help 
but shoehorn into the story a 
subplot about Jozef Klemperer 
(Tilda Swinton, “The Grand 
Budapest Hotel”), an elderly 
psychotherapist searching for 
his patient. This, combined 
with frequent radio chatter 
about the various bombings in 
West Germany, weigh down 
the story and confound its 
sense of identity.

To be clear, these additions 

to the main plot were not 
nonsensical. They had clear 
roles in detailing the chaotic 
turmoil of the city around 
the academy. However, they 
ultimately proved unnecessary 
to the film’s garishly unhinged 
finale. For most of the runtime, 
Guadagnino wanted to tell 
a story that was almost too 
sweeping and expansive to 
digest. But the ending of 
“Suspiria” works as flawlessly 
as it does because of its 
simplicity. The sixth act does 
not so much convey a sharp 
message as it does an intense 
wave of emotion. But the film’s 
political backdrop, suffused 
with complex parables, was a 
misstep. 

Despite the tendency of the 

film to drag rather than remain 
unrelentingly tense, it’s an 
indelibly unsettling experience 
that fits comfortably among 
the 
best 
horror 
films 
of 

2018. 
The 
new 
directions 

that Guadagnino decided to 
take this film may not have 
all been successful, but they 
are certainly admirable. Any 
modern rendition of a revered 
film 
like 
Dario 
Argento’s 

original “Suspiria” has far too 
much to live up to. Instead of 
flailing under such pressure, 
Guadagnino resists the urge 
to copy the original and his 
intentions shown through in 
both substance and style.

In contrast to Argento’s 

nightmarish 
color 
scheme, 

Guadagnino’s set designs are 
pastel hues at their brightest. 
These shades contrast starkly 
with the stabbing blues of the 
autumn sky, and unpredictable 
cutting 
between 
shadowy 

indoors 
and 
the 
outside 

can force a viewer’s eyes to 
constantly 
adjust 
without 

ever truly stabilizing. Another 
tonal difference between the 
two is their scores. While 
Italian progressive rock band 
Goblin composed an abrasive, 
metallic soundtrack for the 
original, Radiohead frontman 
Thom Yorke tailors a slower, 
more ambient sonic texture for 
the new version. Yorke’s score, 
though certainly ambitious, 
works better in some places 
than others. In one long take 
surveying the matrons of the 
Markos Academy, his echoey 
buzzing and swingy drums 
sounded far too reminiscent 
of Radiohead and felt tonally 
inconsistent with the rest of 
the movie. However, the track 
“Unmade” elevates a scene to 
jaw-dropping effect.

If you enjoy horror movies, 

don’t miss this one. “Suspiria” 
is a mostly worthy remake 
and a paralyzingly immersive 
journey. Buy your ticket and 
brace yourself. 

ANISH TAMHANEY

Daily Arts Writer

AMAZON STUDIOS

“Suspiria”

Amazon Studios

State Theatre

It’s not often that a University 

Musical Society concert becomes 
political, or that the conductor 
of an orchestra pens a program 
note 
expressing 
the 
political 

relevance of a concert being done 
overseas. The Czech Philharmonic 
Orchestra’s performance at Hill 
Auditorium this past Thursday 
night, however, was both a musical 
and political event. A celebration of 
the 100th anniversary of the Czech 
Republic’s “liberation from the 
Austrian Empire’s domination,” 
the program was a testament to 
“the courage and determination 
shown by the Czech people in the 
fight to preserve their national 
identity” as “nothing … can ever 
conquer the human spirit when it 
refuses to surrender.”

Extra musical events aside, the 

concert offered was captivating 
though admittedly inconsistent 
in its presentation of three staples 
of 
the 
repertoire: 
Dvorák’s 

“Cello Concerto in B Minor,” 
Tchaikovsky’s 
“Serenade 
for 

Strings” 
and 
Tchaikovsky’s 

“Francesca da Rimini: Symphonic 
Fantasia after Dante in E Minor.” 
It was a two-and-a-half hour 
exploration of late 19th century 
Romanticism and it demonstrated 
the triumphs and struggles of these 
composers in their contributions to 
the orchestral repertoire.

The “Cello Concerto,” the first 

piece on the program, was the 
most consistent and stunning 
performance of the night. From 
the bold opening moments of the 
first movement to the triumphant 
conclusion of the unexpectedly 
slow finale, this was a masterful 
performance by an orchestra in 
prime performance. 

The soloist Alisa Weilerstein 

played beautifully. If anything, I 

only wish she hadn’t played the 
quieter passages just as quietly 
as she did — there were a couple 
moments where it became hard 
to hear her part over that of the 
orchestra. The concertmaster’s 
solo was quite moving, as were 
the various solo passages in the 
winds and brass. The audience’s 
appreciation was palpable. They 
erupted in applause after the first 
movement and a standing ovation 
after the piece ended.

The “Serenade for Strings,” 

a string orchestra work, was 
performed with the same gusto 
if not the same precision. At its 
highest and lowest points, the work 
shined, but some of the middle 
transitional passages felt to me to 
be slightly flat. The triumphant 
ending and slow lyrical passages 
were triumphant and stunning, 
and the quiet ending to the 
third movement going into the 
fourth movement was absolutely 
breathtaking. 

Overall, however, it felt as 

though the orchestra struggled a bit 
to maintain the interpretive nuance 
they brought to the first work. It 
felt to me as though the orchestra 
got stuck in the vast middle ground 
between emulation of the notes 
in the score and interpretation 
of the work in question. While 
the performance was technically 
stellar, I didn’t experience the same 
interpretive magic as I did in the 
first work. 

The third work, the “Francesca 

da 
Rimini,” 
contained 
many 

incredibly moving moments and 
a couple of awkward, problematic 
moments. 
In 
the 
beginning, 

a couple of the entrances and 
complex rhythmic passages felt 
off. Some of the quick brass and 
woodwind gestures didn’t line up 
convincingly enough to me, and 
the opening moments of the work 
definitely felt a little jarring. As 
the work progressed, however, the 

orchestra began to unify behind 
one interpretive idea. 

The last moments of the piece 

were perhaps the most impressive 
of the night. The lower strings, 
brass and woodwinds provided a 
platform upon which the strings 
soared. And the build to this 
movement was also impressive, 
the swirling chromatic harmonies 
meandering towards many false 
cadences before bursting into a 
convincing finale. 

The 
audience 
treated 
the 

orchestra 
to 
an 
immediate 

standing ovation. After a couple 
of bows, the orchestra treated the 
audience to an encore: Dvorák’s 
“Slavonic Dance No. 2 in E minor.” 
The orchestra performed this 
encore with the ease and grace 
they had expressed at the end of 
the “Francesca da Ramini.” While 
not necessarily the most stunning 
of performances, it was impressive.

After more applause, however, 

the orchestra offered yet another 
encore: Dvorák’s “Slavonic Dance 
No. 1 in C Major.” This performance 
was also impressive but it felt a 
little overblown. The audience’s 
applause has begun to fade as the 
conductor reappeared for this 
encore and given a minute or two 
more I doubt it would have been 
appropriate. This is not to say that 
the performance had been bad, but 
after nearly two-and-a-half hours 
of music by these two composers, I 
know I had begun to wish for some 
change in repertoire or style. 

Few orchestras can sustain 

themselves on five pieces by 
extremely similar composers, and 
the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra 
proved to be no exception. As a 
testament to the work of these 
composers, however, the orchestra 
made a compelling argument for 
their inclusion in the classical 
music canon and their continued 
relevance to the orchestral music 
of today.

“The Other 

Sister”

Sarah Zettel

Grand Central 

Publishing

August 2018

FILM REVIEW

Czech Philharmonic stuns

CONCERT REVIEW

SAMMY SUSSMAN

Daily Arts Writer

Zettel’s ‘The Other Sister’

BOOK REVIEW

SOPHIE WAZLOWSKI

Daily Arts Writer

6A — Monday, November 5, 2018
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

