The
phrase
“always
a
bridesmaid,
never
a
bride”
instantly comes to mind upon
reading Busy Philipps’s (“I Feel
Pretty”) filmography. She has
built a lengthy and impressive
career playing the best friend or
another member of the ensemble.
Despite being featured in movies
and television now considered pop
culture milestones like “White
Chicks” or “Freaks and Geeks,”
she has never helmed her own
vehicle, which is why it seemed so
unexpected, yet slightly intriguing
that she would be given the
opportunity to host a talk show.
In hindsight, “Busy Tonight”
has many elements that should
have assured its success. The title
is snappy, Tina Fey is credited
as an executive producer and it
faces little to no competition in
inheriting the female late night
talk show throne that Chelsea
Handler so recently abdicated. The
only problem that presented itself
is Philipps’s occupation in a weird
purgatory of Hollywood. She is not
an unknown, nor is she a household
name. Thus, she is familiar enough
to be recognizable, but unfamiliar
enough that it is easy to question
why one would tune into her, of all
people, every night.
This issue did not have to be a
dealbreaker, as Philipps’s relative
obscurity could have been used
as a means to introduce her show
— as well as herself — to the world
on her own terms. But, instead of
gently wading into the pool, “Busy
Tonight” cannonballs in, almost
giving viewers whiplash with
how strong its host comes across.
Through her numerous half-baked
(and frankly, forced) references to
self-care, margaritas and feminism
that feel ripped from some boring
30-something’s Pinterest board,
Philipps does not come across
as a relatable host, but rather as
an actress doing a bad job with a
character piece.
To clarify, it is important to
acknowledge the difficulty in
beginning a new talk show. When
one becomes accustomed to long-
running hosts, gimmicks, sets
and other standards of a show, it is
easy to critique aspects that make
a show appear to be fledgling.
In addition to the audience’s
perception of a show, it is also
grueling for the people behind the
scenes to find a niche and develop
a tone. While “Busy Tonight”
definitely suffers from the regular
growing pains of a new television
show (like a low-budget title
sequence and a closing musical
number that enticed me to throw
my computer at the television), its
central problem is a simple lack of
entertainment value.
The
very
brief
20-minute
stretch of the program quickly
felt like pulling teeth, as there
were many elements that simply
felt purposeless. For example, at
the beginning of each episode,
Philipps begins a conversation
with her writers, who are sitting
nearby in the studio audience.
These exchanges are played off
as “improvisational,” yet feel as
forced as a fourth grader reading
from their new knock-knock joke
book. Making matters worse,
these moments are not blips in
the episode, and the bits last for
far too long, quickly veering into
awkward territory.
This stark lack of entertainment
value also expands into the
celebrity interview segment as
well. Rather than prompting the
stars with questions that will
launch them into a funny anecdote
about their lives or the project they
are promoting, Busy, in a clear
attempt to maintain the phony
“chill” vibe of the show, just carries
on a normal conversation with
them. This, in itself, is not a terrible
idea. However, the idea does not
translate well, as the conversations
lack any semblance of direction,
and the only topics that seem to be
game for discussion are Coachella,
SoulCycle, margaritas and crying.
For someone who starred in “White
Chicks,” she should have better
awareness of when she is coming
across as a grating stereotype. In
addition to the uninspired talking
points, Philipps
herself is not the
best interviewer.
For example, in
her
interview
with
Vanessa
Anne Hudgens,
Philipps
fails
to
facilitate
a
natural
conversation,
and
opts
to
interrupt
her
guest
at
numerous
points
throughout
the
interview,
as
well
as
consistently
re-center herself
as the subject of
conversation.
As evidenced
in the past with
other talk show
flops,
“Kris”
and “The Queen
Latifah Show,”
not everyone is
cut out to be a
talk show host.
After watching
the
first
four
episodes, it is
clear that the
issues
with
“Busy Tonight”
will
not
be
solved in due
time. Lack of
charm
cannot
be
as
easily
remedied
as
someone simply
forgetting their
cues. As much
as I hoped for
this to be a
career-making
highlight
in
Philipps’s
career, it seems
as though this is
going to be one
that she buries
and
tries
to
forget. I know I
want to.
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Monday, November 5, 2018 — 5A
By Frank Virzi
©2018 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
11/05/18
Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle
Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis
11/05/18
ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:
Release Date: Monday, November 5, 2018
ACROSS
1 Gillette razor
introduced
several years
after the Trac II
5 Sleety road
concern
9 Spherical
14 Cook, as
cavatelli
15 Alien-seeking
org.
16 “SNL” producer
Michaels
17 What “bosun” is
short for
19 Words to the
audience
20 God of the Quran
21 Minute part of a
min.
23 Voiced
24 Necessities
27 Town mentioned
in “Sloop John B”
30 Give permission
to
31 CPR expert
32 Kind of sax
36 When some
news shows air
40 Maxwell Smart
catchphrase
44 Knee-to-ankle
bone
45 Elevator name
46 A half-dozen
47 Cinnabar or
hematite
49 How dishes are
often sold
52 October holiday
in Canada
58 Draws a bead on,
with “at”
59 Centers of
activity
60 Ventricular outlet
64 Bronze or beige
66 Quilt, e.g. ...
and a hint to the
circled letters
68 Sagal of “8
Simple Rules”
69 Vicinity
70 First chip in the
pot
71 “Goosebumps”
author R.L.
72 U.K. mil. medals
73 “The Americans”
FBI agent
Beeman
DOWN
1 Palindromic
Swedish band
2 Saw, for one
3 Iranian money
4 Rite sites
5 Opposite of NNE
6 Reeves of “John
Wick”
7 Formal answer to
“Who’s there?”
8 Home fries
server
9 Suffix with Cray-
10 “Goblin Market”
poet Christina
11 “Monty Python’s
Life of __”
12 Split up
13 Monopoly cards
18 Mr. Met’s former
stadium
22 Cartoon frame
25 Wharf
26 Word after
Happy or square
27 Politico Gingrich
28 Mine, in Amiens
29 Retained part of
a paycheck
33 Canterbury
commode
34 Tsk relative
35 Kimono sash
37 Hardy’s “__ of
the D’Urbervilles”
38 Songwriter Sands
39 Bakery call
41 Simba’s home
42 Like the night,
usually
43 Morales of “La
Bamba”
48 Immigrant’s subj.
50 Easy thing to do
51 Old Greek
gathering places
52 “Honey do” list
items
53 Drum kit cymbals
54 Valuable viola
55 Spoil
56 Cupcake-topping
workers
57 YouTube clip
61 __-a-car
62 “Later,” stylishly
63 Yemeni seaport
65 Watching organ
67 Flier to Oslo
Yaeji had El Club’s sweaty
walls banging last week
I don’t remember the first
time I heard “raingurl,” the
single that launched Brooklyn-
based electronic music artist
Yaeji into the limelight. I can’t
put my finger on when the song
started to worm its way into
my friend group, who exactly
turned to who first and said:
“Wait, you have to listen to this
song.”
All I know is that one day
towards the end of the summer
“raingurl”
just
appeared,
already deeply rooted in road
trip
playlists
and
morning
walks to class — the soundtrack
to pregames and parties and
every social event in between.
The song’s muted ease holds a
quiet fortitude, from the initial
“make it rain girl, make it rain”
that quickly collapses into a
sweeping beat to throughout
the rest of the track, as
whispered
lyrics
in
both
Korean and English dance off
each other, gathering into the
final culmination of, “Mother
Russia in my cup / And my
glasses foggin’ up / Oh yeah
hey dog hey what’s up / Oh
yeah hey dog hey what’s up.”
“raingurl” is a track that builds
without release; each element
of the song is muffled, as if
wrapped in gauze, and it wraps
you up in a similar way: Even
as you try to move the song to
strictly background noise, your
foot can’t help but tap out the
rhythm. Your mouth can’t help
but mimic the omnipresent:
“Make it rain girl, make it rain.”
It’s a banger that doesn’t
announce itself, but instead
sweeps you up for the ride
without
hesitation
—
a
disposition that seems to be
paralleled by Yaeji herself, as
she appeared to at the forefront
of El Club’s stage last Tuesday,
round glasses reflecting the
club’s strobe lights back out
into the audience. Emerging
suddenly and barely tall enough
to be seen above the waving
arms of the first row, Yaeji was,
at first, distinctly unimposing.
Yet, as she launched into
her opener “Feel It Out,”
she transformed. Her stage
presence grew larger-than-life
as all of the glory of the song’s
spiraling synths alongside her
hypnotic vocals washed the
room with colorful energy. As
the song bounced from one
corner to the other, so did she,
and our own bodies couldn’t
help but follow. We were
caught up in the enthusiasm
of the moment and of the song
itself. We were entrapped. We
were entranced.
More than anything, more
than any other show I’ve
attended at El Club, we were
having fun. Throughout the
setlist, as “Feel It Out” bled
into the hollow of “Full Of
It,” as “Guap”’s deep baritone
flattened into “after that”’s
off-kilter crawl, even as the
wildly popular cover of Drake’s
“passionfruit”
settled
over
us like a blanket, we were
never allowed to stop moving.
And neither did we want to,
with each song in the lineup
gaining energy from the track
that came before, the space
around us sparking with raw
kineticism.
Yaeji
left
“raingurl,”
predictably,
until
the
very
end, letting the final echoes of
the song fully die out before
expressing her gratitude and
joy in seeing all of us fill El
Club’s space to its capacity in
a quiet voice that belied the
utter chaos of only moments
before. It is this unassuming
quality that makes Yaeji, and
her
entire
discography,
so
powerful. Instead of forcing
themselves upon listeners, the
songs simply invite a hand out,
welcoming you to dance with
them, outwardly express with
them.
And as Yaeji climbed back
onstage for the encore — her
remix of Charli XCX’s “Focus”
— I felt the synergy, between
Yaeji and us, between us and
the song, at its peak. Together,
we closed out El Club, the
song’s hook — “I just want
you to focus on my love / Just
focus on my” — becoming all-
consuming as we raised our
voices to match Yaeji’s: one
final, perfect harmony.
SHIMA SADAGHIYANI
Daily Music Editor
GODMODE
“Busy
T
onight”
E!
Episodes 1-4
Sundays-
Wednesdays, 10
p.m.
The legacy of artist and
activist Victor Jara
On Sept. 11, 1973, the Chilean
president, a socialist named
Salvador Allende, was forcibly
removed in a military coup led
by the brutal general Augusto
Pinochet. For the next 20 years,
Pinochet suspended democratic
rule in Chile, presiding over an
oppressive, sadistic military
junta that completely reversed
Allende’s socialist economic
programs, banning unions and
privatizing
state
programs
such
as
social
security.
Moreover, his regime hunted
down all manner of dissidents,
imprisoning tens of thousands
and executing thousands, with
little to no pushback from the
international community.
Victor Jara was an artist
who transcended the world
of arts and culture. He is
remembered as both a martyr
and hero for social activists in
Latin America and beyond. In
addition to being an immensely
talented songwriter, he was
also a university professor and
theater director. In general, Jara
was a symbol for progressive
politics in the era of Pinochet,
despite being killed before
Pinochet’s reign. He was a
vanguard in the Latin American
“nuevacanción” movement and
genre, which took influences
from traditional folk songs but
focused less on reinterpretation
and more on invention of more
modern styles.
His 1971 album El Derecho
de Vivir en Paz is the best place
to start with his impressive
discography.
Jara
has
the
smooth
ability
to
span
a
wide variety of sonic ranges.
The first and title track is a
meditation on the conflicts in
Southeast Asia and a hopeful
plea for all humans to have “the
right to live in peace.” He takes
a more playful tone in songs
like “Las Casitas del Barrio
Alto” and a more restrained one
in songs like “Abre la Ventana.”
While
there’s
nothing
musically
groundbreaking,
the
combination
of
Jara’s
songwriting and clever, socially
aware lyrics make the album an
enjoyable listen.
Unfortunately,
his
championing
of
progressive
causes
through
his
music
and other avenues led to his
tragic demise at the hands of
the Pinochet regime. By the
time the dictator took power,
Jara was famous throughout
the Americas, even in the folk
circles of the United States.
Due to his fame and his lack
of
restraint
in
lambasting
conservatives, he was rounded
up — along with thousands of
other activists and socialist
party members — and herded
like
an
animal
into
the
national soccer stadium in
the capital Santiago shortly
after Pinochet’s coup. After
being beaten, military guards
smashed his fingers, cruelly
taunting him by saying he
would never play the guitar
again and forcing him to sing
for his fellow prisoners. Not
long after, his body was found
in a Santiago street, riddled
with bullet holes. This year, a
ninth soldier responsible for
killing Jara was sentenced to
time in prison, two years after
a former Chilean officer living
in Florida was found liable for
his death.
Jara’s slaughtering by the
hands of the Pinochet regime
was not forgotten, and ever
since, he has become a Chilean
hero and a symbol worldwide
for the continuing struggle for
human rights and progressive
politics. His story has been
invoked by countless artists,
including
U2
and
Bruce
Springsteen.
Jara
was
not
simply a political artist. He was
not just a preacher of “peace
and love,” but one who bravely
put his heart and soul into
political activism in addition
to his music. His story, while
tragic, is a reminder of the very
real social impact the arts can
have.
SAYAN GHOSH
Daily Arts Writer
DAILY WORLD MUSIC COLUMN
CONCERT REVIEW
Busy Philipps is not cut
out for the talk show gig
E!
TV REVIEW
ALLY OWENS
Daily Arts Writer
Victor Jara was
an artist who
transcended the
world of arts and
culture