“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