Sarah Zettel, University alum 
and author of “The Other Sister” 
recently sat down to speak with 
The Daily about her latest release. 
From starting off at the University 
scribbling in “notebooks with 
friends creating shared worlds,” 
today Zettel has produced over 
18 novels in sci-fi, romance, 
fantasy and various other genres. 
“The Other Sister” is a domestic 
suspense and psychological thriller 
that flips the traditional fairytale 
upside down. The novel follows 
two sisters, Geraldine and Marie 
Monroe through secretive schemes 
and abnormal familial dynamics. 
From my conversation with Zettel 
it is is clear that her latest work is 
laced with darker shades of human 
psyche and the dichotomy of good 
and evil.
Zettel’s inspiration for writing 
“The Other Sister” is tethered to 
her childhood love for the Brothers 
Grimm Fairy Tales. Since she was 
13, she knew she wanted to write in 
a wide variety of literary genres and 
forms. Today her childhood vision 
has blossomed into reality, with her 
various published works ranging 
from science fiction to young adult 
romance to, currently, domestic 
suspense. Zettel recognizes that 
“The Other Sister” belongs under 
the domestic suspense genre.
“It’s more about the idea than 
where it goes on the shelf,” Zettel 

said. 
She is well aware of the good 
and ugly stepsister tropes, but 
what really sparked her inspiration 
for “The Other Sister” was what 
it would be like to be the ugly 
stepsister. She wanted to play with 
a range of emotions and dynamics 
among people.
“Each genre offers you a chance 
to put a new angle on a story,” 
Zettel said. This novel, therefore, 
explores the consequences and 
casualties that occur when darker 
family dynamics are in play.
Fairytales commonly confine 
women to inferior or victimizing 
roles, while men are depicted 
with heroic stature. When I asked 
how Zettel tackled these gendered 
tropes while writing “The Other 
Sister,” she said: “The common 
perception of women that is used 
to keep them in their place is that 
women are not allowed simply to be 
human beings, they are supposed 
to be giving beings.”
This description entails that 
women are expected to give to 
everyone around them.
“If she doesn’t give enough 
and in the right ways then she is a 
bad woman and you can do what 
you want to her,” Zettel said. She 
wanted to explore what happens 
when women don’t “give properly.” 
Zettel 
explained 
that 
women 
simply are not allowed to be angry 
about 
anything, 
neither 
their 
status nor the expectation put on 
them to give to others without any 
reciprocation.

“I also wanted to explore what 
happens when you either refuse 
not to suppress your anger or you 
hide it so well that you are left with 
very few options,” Zettel said. She 
sympathizes with Geraldine for 
this same reason, as Geraldine is 
the troubled and outcasted sister 
in contrast to her more conforming 
sibling Marie.
To Zettel, any form of writing 
or public expression by women is 
inherently a feminist act.
“It’s finally allowing us to give 
voice to the range of what it is to 
be complete human and to be a 
woman,” Zettel commented on 
writing. Zettel described that 
suspense and thriller genres allow 
writers and readers to look at how 
anger, violence and justice uniquely 
affect women. She cites “Gone Girl” 
as a recent example of a suspense 
novel and film that deconstructs 
representations of women as the 
“perfect victim.”
“It is a really interesting piece 
of work,” Zettel said. “Deliberately 
feminist or not, it is a deeply 
feminist piece of work”
In 
the 
past, 
Zettel 
wrote 
full-time nestled in her garret 
with a cat and now finds herself 
working in a well-lit, social writing 
workspace; 
her 
extroverted 
personality is thriving. You can 
tell she is a prolific author with 
exceptional enthusiasm for her 
craft. Zettel is engaging, passionate 
and 
determined 
to 
cultivate 
constructive depictions of women 
in her work.

4A — Wednesday, November 7, 2018
Arts
 
 
 
 The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

‘Bohemian’ biopic can’t 
remember that it’s a story

Can a character survive if his 
story is taken away?
This is a risky question for 
any 
storyteller 
to 
entertain. 
Unfortunately, that didn’t stop the 
makers of “Bohemian Rhapsody,” 
a film that markets itself as a Queen 
biopic and waits to deliver on that 
promise until the latter portion of 
its runtime, until it’s too late.
Leading up to that transition 
into 
legitimate 
storytelling, 
Bryan 
Singer’s 
(“X-Men”) 
“Bohemian Rhapsody” is hardly 
a story. Instead, the disjointed 
scenes chronicling Queen’s rise 
seem like a highlight reel: one 
scene per episode of success in 
Queen’s career. The effects of this 
approach are emotionally varied 
but unvaryingly detrimental. On 
one hand, the highlight reel erases 
struggle in favor of a dizzyingly 
rapid, romantic and easy road to 
success. The dialogue also slackens 
without a story to support it, so the 
filmmakers’ habit of writing their 
theses about the significance of 
Queen into conversations between 
members of Queen and record 
executives feels contrived and 
questionable in turn.
The direct consequence of the 
vacancy of story and the attempt 
to fill this void, however, is the 
effects 
on 
Freddie 
Mercury’s 
characterization. Though Rami 
Malek (“Mr. Robot”) makes the 
most of every scene, the answer 
to the opening inquiry — can a 
character survive without a story? 
— is still, by and large: No.
The filmmakers, having opted 
for the convenience of the highlight 
reel over the tedium of crafting a 
story, must then portray Mercury 
within this framework. So, in the 
fragmented spirit of highlight reels, 

they truncate Mercury’s identity 
crises. In doing so, not only do they 
squander Malek’s versatility as 
an actor, but they also ignore the 
realities of how humans come to 

terms with their social identities.
Initially, “Bohemian Rhapsody” 
emphasizes 
Mercury’s 
racial 
identity. A handful of early scenes 
— including a tense disagreement 
with his conservative father about 
nightclub visits and Mercury’s 
family’s 
disappointment 
after 
Mercury had his given name, 
Farrokh Bulsara, legally changed 
— suggest Mercury struggled to 
embrace his Parsi heritage. Then, 
Mercury leaves home, and the 
filmmakers drop this development 
entirely; they fixate abruptly on 
Mercury’s sexual identity instead. 
This truncation is problematic 
not only for the purposes of biopic 
but for intersectionality. Why 
can’t Mercury confront his racial, 
national 
and 
sexual 
identities 
synchronously? Why must anyone 
ever be reduced to one social 
identity? What was convenient for 
the filmmakers disenfranchises 
those who identify with multiple 
marginalized groups.
In part three of Mercury’s 
truncated identity crises, Mercury 
hits a low point and suffers 
from loneliness and substance 
abuse. On the one hand, these 
challenges 
transcend 
social 
identity and initiate a long-awaited 
character arc. In other words, 
Mercury becomes a character and 
“Bohemian Rhapsody” remembers 
it’s his story. On the other hand, it’s 

too late for the film to fully recover 
from the absence of a story, so his 
low point as a character cannot be 
ascribed to a preexisting character 
arc; the only factor audiences 
have to point to is the most recent 
identity crisis, and that is Mercury’s 
coming out as bisexual. Once 
again, the filmmakers’ pseudo-
storytelling inadvertently wounds 
the 
marginalized 
communities 
the film and Mercury’s portrayal 
should have empowered.
Though by no means does 
“Bohemian Rhapsody” becoming 
a story right its wrongs, it gives 
the film the narrative momentum 
it needs. In turn, the film is 
able to work toward a climax, 
and it delivers. The concluding 
sequence, 
capturing 
Queen’s 
1985 performance at Live Aid, 
is the invigorating, rewarding 
antithesis of the highlight reel. It 
is patiently, unromantically shot. 
And for all the ways “Bohemian 
Rhapsody” disrespected Mercury 
as an individual, the film always 
respected Queen’s music, and 
this scene is no exception. Most 
notably, this scene proves one of the 
theses about Queen’s significance 
haphazardly inserted into dialogue 
at the beginning of the film: 
Everything Queen did was out of 
love and respect for their fans. After 
watching this sequence, comprised 
of alternating footage of Queen’s 
knockout performance and the 
audience’s enthusiastic responses 
to it, there is no doubt about Queen’s 
distinctive love for their fan base.
While the recovery portion of 
the film doesn’t compensate for 
its initial series of shortcomings, it 
opens up two possibilities. It will 
likely leave the audience members 
who managed to hurdle the initial 
disappointments with a craving for 
Queen’s music and, hopefully, the 
raw materials to construct a more 
holistic portrait of Mercury as well.

JULIANNA MORANO
For the Daily

20TH CENTURY FOX

ARTIST PROFILE

It’s raining on Election Day

It’s raining on Election Day. 
Generally speaking, turnout is 
lower when it rains on election 
day, and when turnout is lower 
it’s bad for Democrats. Now, 
this is an entertainment and 
media column and you might 
think that an entertainment 
and media columnist should 
stick to writing articles about 
blockbusters and pop artists 
and the state of the industry, 
but today is the first Tuesday 
in November. I just got back 
from my voting precinct, and 
it’s raining on Election Day. 
Tonight, Twitter and Facebook 
and all the news networks and 
most of the late-night shows 
will be solely focused on the 
midterms and the incoming 
results. I’d be lying if I said I 
wasn’t focused on them too.
It’s been a long two years. I 
think, regardless of where you 
fall on the political spectrum, 
it’s hard to disagree with that. 
Do you remember Sean Spicer? 
What about the Mooch? That 
Supreme 
Court 
battle 
that 
seemed to last for an eternity? 
Or have there been two of those? 
I may have forgotten. The pace 
of our collective memory has 
become so relentless that the 
controversies of yesterday feel 
like trivialities compared to 
today. It’s not just in politics. 
These past two years since the 
election of Donald J. Trump 
have seen major upheavals 
in the entertainment world 
as well. The consolidation of 
media companies has continued 
unchecked, with Disney and 
Fox set to merge and join the 
AT&T and Time Warner mega-
conglomerate that solidified 
early this year. Three Star Wars 
movies have come and gone, 

a dozen more Marvel flicks 
have hit the screens and the 
DC movie universe collapsed 
before our very eyes. Also, on 
their way out the door, a long 
list of powerful film executives 

and 
creatives 
have 
been 
taken down by the #MeToo 
movement in the wake of the 
Harvey Weinstein scandal.
I sometimes will joke to my 
friends that the 2016 election, 
the success of Michigan sports 
and the quality of various 
entertainment 
products 
I 
enjoy can be directly linked. 
Going into Nov. 2016, Michigan 
Football was undefeated and 
ranked third in the country. 
Four days after Donald Trump 
got elected, Michigan dropped 
a heartbreaker to Iowa and, at 
the end of the month, J.T. was 
stopped short — or at least we 
Michigan fans think he was. 
Going into Nov. 2016, the “Star 
Wars” franchise had made a 
triumphant return and was 
poised to recapture its former 
glory as the granddaddy of all 
film franchises. Two years 
and three controversial movies 
later, 
the 
franchise 
seems 
doomed to relish in its own past 
for eternity. Like America, it 

can’t move forward. Two years 
and seven episodes later and 
George R.R. Martin is nowhere 
close to finishing the books 
series that has become the 
basis for the TV phenomenon 
“Game 
of 
Thrones.” 
He’s 
trapped in stasis. Of course, a 
rational mind knows that none 
of these things are connected. 
In my mind, however, they will 
always be inextricably linked.
This year, Michigan seems 
poised to at long last reclaim 
its rightful place at the top 
of the Big Ten conference. A 
date with destiny in Columbus 
seems inevitable and you can’t 
help but feel that at long last 
our time has come. All of the 
polling seems to indicate a huge 
win for Gretchen Whitmer 
and a strong chance for the 
Democrats to take back the 
House. The leaks coming out 
of Belfast seem to indicate that 
the last season of “Game of 
Thrones” will be good. But with 
Dylan McCaffrey out, Michigan 
is just one bad play away 
from having to start a third-
string quarterback, “Game of 
Thrones” has never been the 
same since they passed the 
books, J.J. Abrams is surely 
just going to remake “Return 
of the Jedi” and it’s raining 
on Election Day. Maybe I will 
wake up tomorrow and all of 
my blue wave dreams will come 
true. But if these two punishing 
years have taught me anything, 
it’s the same thing that has been 
ingrained into me as a Michigan 
and Detroit sports fan since I 
could breathe: “Hope for the 
best, expect the worst.” I think 
I’ll put an old episode of “The 
West Wing” up on the TV to 
cheer myself up. After all, it’s 

DAILY ENTERTAINMENT COLUMN

“Bohemian 
Rhapsody” 
Ann Arbor 20 + 
IMAX

20th Century Fox

FILM REVIEW

IAN HARRIS

TESSA ROSE
Daily Arts Writer

Sarah Zettel, on suspense, 
women and ‘Other Sister’

Still to this day, the critical 
acclaim and awe surrounding 
Orson Welles and his classics like 
“Citizen Kane” and “Touch of 
Evil” holds strong. The legendary 
actor / director, who gained 
stardom in the ’40s and ’50s, is, 
no doubt, an icon of cinematic 
history. However, Welles’s latest, 
posthumous release, “The Other 
Side of the Wind,” may not 
resonate with modern audiences 
unexposed to the rest of his body 
of work and reputation. Though 
filled with entrancing cinematic 
techniques 
true 
to 
Welles’s 
style, the plot of the film mirrors 
Welles’s own life, and “The Other 
Side of the Wind” only connects to 
a specific, niche audience, while 
making the typical movie-goer 
feel little more than confusion 
and disjointedness. 
The film revolves around the 
major, yet fading Hollywood 
director 
Jake 
Hannaford 
(John 
Huston, 
“Chinatown”). 
At Hannaford’s 70th birthday 
party, his newest and final film 
is debuted for throngs of rowdy 
party-attendees, reporters and 
fellow 
Hollywood 
associates. 
The film, also titled “The Other 
Side of the Wind,” is unfinished, 
fragmented and likely won’t be 
distributed, as Hannaford has 
only four days to complete it. 
Interspersed between alcohol-
saturated 
conversations 
with 
prodding reporters and fame-
seeking friends at the party are 

sequences of Hannaford’s film 
itself, which can only be described 
as a bizarre, hyper-sexualized, 
semi-romantic chase between an 
attractive man and woman with 
no dialogue. As the party unfolds, 
the reporters and fans become 
increasingly eager to “figure out” 
the mysterious Hannaford, but as 
the night goes on Hannaford only 
becomes more and more closed 

off, seemingly far more interested 
in finding another bottle of booze 
than engaging with his guests. 
Reflective of Welles’s use of 
mirrors and light in “Citizen 
Kane,” 
the 
manipulation 
of 
light, dark, visual and auditory 
synchronization throughout the 
film is captivating. In both the 
segments at the party and within 
the screening of Hannaford’s 
film, 
there 
is 
an 
apparently 
indiscriminate tradeoff between 
black-and-white 
and 
color 
sequences. With no identifiable 
pattern for when and why one 
segment is black-and-white while 
the next is in color, Welles creates 
a feeling of intrigue and surprise 
within viewers. Especially within 
the 
film-screening 
portions, 
the pairing of sound and image 
is mesmerizing. In one part of 
Hannaford’s film, the nameless 
male and female protagonists hop 
into a cab to escape the rain. The 
two begin kissing and touching 

in the back of the car, illuminated 
by the bright green and red of the 
traffic lights and the condensation 
from the rain outside. The scene 
is simultaneously sensual and 
uncomfortable, as the two lovers 
continue to caress to a drum-like 
beat while the cab driver sits only a 
few feet in front of them. As the film 
within the film has no dialogue, 
there is nothing to distract from 
the discomfort we feel, and we are 
thus forced to watch the peculiar 
love scene pan out.
Though Welles’s techniques 
are provocative, eye-catching and 
evidently creative, for the average 
audience member, establishing 
a genuine connection to the film 
proves 
difficult. 
Everything 
about the film is fragmented. 
The movie shown at the birthday 
party is continually interrupted 
by numerous power outages and 
conversations between characters 
at the party are constantly 
cut short, making it difficult 
to invest in anyone on-screen. 
Additionally, there is an overall 
sense of incompleteness that we 
can’t help but feel, brought on 
both by the scattered nature of 
the filming, the incompleteness 
of the screened film within the 
film and the disconnect and 
tension between Hannaford and 
his actors. When the credits role, 
we can’t help but wonder if we 
should have brushed up on our 
knowledge of Welles beforehand 
to 
make 
Hannaford, 
as 
a 
protagonist crafted in Welles’s 
image, more tangible and maybe 
even make the film as a whole 
more enjoyable. 

SAMANTHA NELSON
Daily Arts Writer

Welles’s ‘Other Side of the 
Wind’ doesn’t translate

NETFLIX

FILM REVIEW

“Other Side 
of the Wind” 
Netflix

