The world is familiar with the
professional killer trope: “Star
Wars,” the James Bond novels and
even Pulp Fiction all include some
reiteration of the same type of
character. And for the right reason:
Readers devour these stories. The
remorseless, accessible killers exist
in realms where the borders of
reality are difficult to identify, and
excitingly easy to contort.
Un-Su Kim takes this trope
to a new level in his first book
translated to English; all of the
characters in “The Plotters” are
assassins except for a select few.
These are not paid killers who are
hired by someone else for dramatic
effect, the killers themselves are
the central focus of the book.
Kim looks deep into the killers’
humanity and at the complex
socio-political sphere they operate
within.
“The
Plotters”
settles
its
crosshairs over Reseng, a thirty-
something Korean man who has
been working as a for-hire assassin
for years. Adopted by Old Raccoon
(a vacant, older man who works in
tandem with assassins) as a child,
this world is all Reseng knows.
He flourishes in an environment
where men labelled “Plotters”
take orders for homicides, in turn
handing these orders and victim
profiles over to assassins. It is an
environment where corruption
is ubiquitous, tacitly suggesting
that, everyday, disappearances or
political deaths — outright murder
or not — are the result of the
Plotters and their transactions.
While “The Plotters” at times
seems unsure of what it is trying
to accomplish plot-wise, it is in his
characters that Un-Su Kim shines
as a writer. The characters in the
novel are diverse in temperament
and realistically formed — greatly
nuanced for the “typical” assassin
type. While initially the novel
is
disproportionately
saturated
with men and (at times, the
often accurately ludicrous) male
perspective,
Kim
thankfully
escapes this trough by the final
half of his novel. He offers several
female characters, most centrally
Mina, who is, along with Reseng,
one of the most fantastically formed
characters. Mina is both flawed and
a badass. She takes on stereotypical
female propensities that authors
often disregard when employing a
“strong woman” archetype. She is
annoyingly talkative, cares about
her physical appearance and is
physically meek. Simultaneously,
however, she fights for a cause,
is
remarkably
intelligent
and
remains the calmest amongst all of
the characters in the face of peril.
She is a shining example of Kim’s
ability to craft truthful, balanced
characters. Mina, while certainly
imperfect, is a refreshing offer of a
female character in a thriller novel.
Authors molding (usually female)
characters often feel the need to
choose between good and bad,
between “manic pixie” and socially
altruistic. Mina, along with the
many other characters of “The
Plotters,” is allowed to be both.
The story of “The Plotters” is
interesting. The writing is good, for
the most part. There are certainly
sloppy lines, especially when it
comes to dialogue, though this
perhaps can be attributed to the
translation element of the novel.
Depending on the intensity of
the scene at hand, the book is not
remarkably difficult to put down.
There are gripping scenes —they
just do not come with frequency.
Although its characters stand
out, “The Plotters” slips into an
ill-fated middle ground between
literary fiction and the thriller-
mystery fiction familiar in works
such as “The Girl on the Train.”
Kim seems unable to decide on
one territory — or perhaps is just
unwilling to examine both
territories entirely at the same
time. There are two or three
especially moving scenes in the
work where Reseng’s humanity
(and sometimes his inability
to adhere to it) is revealed.
Principals of love and loss are
toyed with eloquently.
However,
these
passages
falter when Kim later neglects
them, juggling instead with
his thriller plot, trading blood
and adrenaline for half-hearted
examinations of literary themes
every few chapters. It is difficult
to be wholly enamored with “The
Plotters,” especially when sincere
themes seem diluted by a desire
to continue to force moments of
drama and violence.
Thrillers, both onscreen and
read, are often made or broken by
their ability to trick audiences and
retain their attention for the span
of the story. Characters such as
Reseng and Mina — characters that
feel remarkably authentic — do this
uniquely, as it is hard not to lean
into their stories and human depth.
“The Plotters” is a good thriller
for its willingness to investigate
outside of the at-hand, adrenaline-
begetting drama and the novel
takes refreshing breaths. In the
future, hopefully Kim expands the
appeal of his work with even more
of these voyages.
‘The Plotters’ a thriller
Doomsday. The End of Days. The
Rapture. Whatever name it takes,
the dramatization of the moment
of reckoning for the human race
continues to fuel the film industry
without fail. By now, Hollywood
has presumably squeezed out every
last plotline possible about the
world’s demise. Yet, even after 2012
came and went, the end-of-life-
as-we-know-it craze persists. Our
expectations for films within this
genre are understandably low, given
the common threads of painfully
predictable plotlines, poor action
and weak direction found in films
like “The Knowing,” “2012” and
“This is the End.” However, “Bird
Box,” Netflix’s latest apocalyptic
flick, is perhaps an outlier within its
class. Fresh, thought-provoking and
terrifying, through Sandra Bullock’s
talent and strategic fiddling with
chronology, “Bird Box” offers more
than the flame-filled skies, splitting
streets and screaming pedestrians
that we expect of it.
Cynical loner Malorie (Sandra
Bullock, “Gravity”) cannot help but
dread the invasion of her solitary
lifestyle her progressing pregnancy
will inevitably yield. While initially
detached from the influx of news of
mass suicides occurring overseas,
Malorie is thrust into panic when
the glazed-eye, suicidal individuals
materialize
within
her
town.
Somehow escaping the mayhem
alive, Malorie and a slew of fellow
survivors determine the key to their
survival is to blind themselves to the
outside world, realizing that through
seeing, they will likely meet the
same fates as the corpses littering
the streets. As tensions build, fears
grow and literal darkness ensues,
the survivors struggle to maintain
their humanity as they adapt,
quickly learning their realities will
never be the same again.
Though riddled with moments
of confusion we manage to follow
along (our hearts racing every step
of the way) to the end of the film,
thanks to Sandra Bullock’s superb
acting. Malorie serves as our much-
needed guide through the bizarre,
post-apocalyptic world that “Bird
Box” conjures. Her sturdy, no-bull
demeanor produces a character
who is consistent and tangible.
Viewers, like the terrified characters
within the film, are desperate to
latch onto something solid amidst
the unpredictable and harrowing
backdrop of their world — where
a tool as essential as eyesight is
limited. Along with her firmness,
viewers are able to find comfort
and solace in the quiet relationship
Malorie
builds
with
fellow
survivor, Tom (Trevante Rhodes,
“Moonlight”). The refreshing thing
about this romantic subplot is its
subtlety.
Also working in the film’s favor
is its usage of time. Two parallel
timelines operate to show the
present and the past. Viewers
begin the movie in a state of utter
confusion, following a blindfolded
woman and two children down a
daunting, gray river. Audiences,
drawn in from this point of curiosity,
have most of their questions
answered in the second timeline,
which illustrates flashbacks from six
months prior. Our furrowed brows
slowly begin to relax as we begin
to piece together the intersections
between present and past.
While elements like Bullock’s
acting chops and the manipulation
of time make “Bird Box” an
intriguing watch, it should be
known that this is not in any way a
mild or ‘light’ movie. The sensations
we are left with after watching are
comparable to those that linger after
sitting through an episode of “Black
Mirror.” We are impressed and
fascinated by the film’s imagination
of a reality where sight, a quality
that is normally so simply taken for
granted, is restricted. At the same
time, however, over the course of the
film, we develop a sickening twist
in our stomachs, nauseated and
distressed by the unpleasant nature
of humans in crisis. Its intense fear
factor aside, “Bird Box” should be
praised for its inventiveness. In
fact, the film’s simultaneous ability
to make us jump with fright and
Bullock bold in ‘Bird Box’
SAMANTHA NELSON
Daily Arts Writer
FILM REVIEW
JOHN DECKER
Daily Arts Writer
BOOKS REVIEW
Getting cozy in Detroit
for The Internet’s show
CONCERT REVIEW
There’s
something
so
satisfying about going to a
concert to catch a break from life
kicking your ass. On December
12, when I was sinking in the
mire that was the final days
of fall semester, I nonetheless
decided the best use of my time
before a final exam was to drive
to Detroit to see The Internet
(yes, the band) live. Despite
some logistical hiccups, which
resulted in me driving alone, in
a borrowed car, with a manual
transmission, I still managed
to scoot down the highway
to Detroit. On the downtown
streets, I avoided the high-vis
vest types harping their parking
lots and opted to poorly parallel
park only a block away from the
venue.
Walking to the steps of Saint
Andrews Hall and beholding
people still waiting in line
almost an hour after doors
opened
was
an
omen
the
atmosphere
that
night
was
going to be electric. A pat down
and a trip to will call later, I
was armed with a photo pass
on my wrist, which gave me
William Miller from “Almost
Famous” levels of confidence
as I smooth-talked my way
into the exclusive VIP seating
upstairs.
Opener
Moonchild
took the stage as soon as I found
an advantageous spot to settle
on the railing. Their brand was
slightly Vulfpeckian, lo-fi funk
with tinges of pop and jazz.
They were nothing to write
home about until the main
vocalist, Amber Navran, and
the two pianists flanking her
sides each pulled a saxophone
or trumpet seemingly out of
nowhere, much to the crowd’s
surprise.
Maybe
it
was
a
testament to the audience’s
attention level that we didn’t
notice the array of instruments
at their feet for a song or two,
but after they busted out the
brass, our eyes and ears were
captivated
by
their
sweet
symphony.
Moonchild didn’t stop there;
they showcased their talent
as multi-instrumentalists by
playing flutes and clarinets to
boot. While the crowd gathered
was not quite their mellow
target audience, we still vibed
with them, especially when
they got everyone chanting
along to a cover of Jill Scott’s
“A Long Walk.” They exited to
joyous applause, not stealing
the show from the main act but
serving up a savory appetizer:
the perfect kind of opener.
After Moonchild had packed
up their instruments and bright
lights flooded the venue once
again, the wait for the top-billed
band was par for the course
(read: almost criminally long),
but the in-house stereo system
kept it lively, which is almost
too easy to do in Detroit when
you play “First Day Out” by Tee
Grizzley. So when the music
abruptly cut and the lights went
dim, the audience was roaring.
A
five-man
wrecking
crew
piled onto the tight platform to
the opening kicks and snares
of “Roll (Burbank Funk),” and
immediately everyone in the
packed Saint Andrews Hall was
bobbing to the music.
Both the crowd and band
were in perpetual motion the
remainder
of
the
evening,
stopping only for a second
after the intro song when
frontwoman, Syd, took a swig
of her drink from a paper cup
and set it down near a speaker.
“Hold on, let me secure this tea,”
she said to the crowd’s laughter,
as drummer Christopher Smith
started to play the opening notes
of “Dontcha.” Other than that
track, the setlist was comprised
of cuts from Ego Death and their
2018 release Hive Mind, with
the
balance
unsurprisingly
favoring the more recent.
The
first
half
of
their
performance was more geared
to cutting a rug, with crowd
favorite singles “La Di Da” and
“Come Over” doing the heavy
lifting. And yes, The Internet
had two literal Persian rugs
on stage, a couch stationed on
top of them. While Smith and
producer Matt Martians mainly
sat behind their drum set
and synthesizer respectively,
guitarist Steve Lacy, bassist
Patrick Paige II and Syd didn’t
hesitate to get comfortable.
Paige and Syd flopped on the
couch and cheered on Lacy as
he took over for “Beat Goes On,”
while Syd and Lacy sat in awe of
Paige’s meditative verse which
closes out “It Gets Better (With
Time),” a song that Syd took a
somber moment to dedicate to
their late friend Mac Miller.
On
stage,
The
Internet
looks a motley bunch, each
aesthetically adding their own
stylistic flair: Lacy, who I am
convinced can make any piece
of clothing look hot, rocked a
tie-dye shirt, split toe boots
and a rainbow guitar straps;
Syd was unassuming in her
plain white T-shirt and ultra-
flared pants; Smith happily
drummed along without a shirt.
Much like the crowd packed
within walls of the venue, The
Internet represents a variety
of ages, backgrounds, styles
and personalities. But together,
they somehow make it work,
and get the crowd to work in
unison, too. As Syd and Lacy
slowly strode from side-to-side
strumming and singing along to
“Curse,” the mass on the main
floor copied them, swinging in
sync with the twosome like the
Hall was playing Simon Says.
We were enchanted by the
love songs, but also bounced to
the triumphant songs like “Get
Away” and “Just Sayin.” For
the latter, Syd even coached us
through the hook (“You fucked
up!”) recognizing the audience’s
adrenalized
engagement.
“I
know how Detroit get loud as
fuck,” she yelled, a wide smile
on her face. With a longer-
than-average set and magical
prowess, they gave us a reason
to get loud. Everyone left with
vibrancy coursing through their
veins.
The Internet ended their set
a tad unceremoniously, but with
a good sense of humor: They
picked up their instruments
and shuffled off-stage as the
“Curb
Your
Enthusiasm”
theme played. Perhaps a bit
ironic, as I had to return to
the empty reality of the bleak
winter night outside and Ann
Arbor where work awaited,
or perhaps a bit self-aware, as
The Internet keeps up with the
constant pressure of touring
as they continue across the
United States before embarking
for
Australia
and
Europe.
Nonetheless, exams happen and
sold-out shows will be played,
because on nights like this, The
Internet reminds us the beat
goes on.
ROBERT MANSUETTI
Senior Arts Editor
ODD FUTURE RECORDS
reflect deeply may just be enough to
erase the wrongs of its predecessors
and redeem the apocalypse genre
altogether.While
elements
like
Bullock’s acting chops and the
manipulation of time make “Bird
Box” an intriguing watch, it should
be known that this is not in any way a
mild or ‘light’ movie. The sensations
that we are left with after watching
are comparable to those that linger
after sitting through an episode of
“Black Mirror.” We are impressed
and
fascinated
by
the
film’s
imagination of a reality where sight,
a quality that is normally so simply
taken for granted, is restricted. At the
same time, however, over the course
of the film, we develop a sickening
twist in our stomachs, nauseated and
distressed by the unpleasant nature
of humans in crisis. Its intense fear
factor aside, “Bird Box” should be
praised for its inventiveness. In
fact, the film’s simultaneous ability
to make us jump with fright and
reflect deeply may just be enough to
erase the wrongs of its predecessors
and redeem the apocalypse genre
altogether.
NETFLIX
Much like the
crowd packed
within walls
of the venue,
The Internet
represents a
variety of ages,
backgrounds,
styles and
personalities
Walking to the
stpes of Saint
Andrews Hall and
beholding people
still waiting in
line almost an
hour after doors
opened was an
omen in the
atmosphere
“Bird Box”
Netflix
“The
Plotters”
Un-Su Kim
Doubleday Publishing
January 29, 2019
6 — Wednesday, January 9, 2019
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com