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Fall 2019/20. Rents range $875 ‑
$1850 most include heat and water.
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STUDENT SUMMER STORAGE
Closest to campus, Indoor, Clean,
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Dorm Housing, bonus, and discount‑
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www.theislandhouse.com

STORAGE

SUMMER EMPLOYMENT

FOR RENT

By Kevin Salat
©2019 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
04/04/19

Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle

Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis

04/04/19

ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:

Release Date: Thursday, April 4, 2019

ACROSS
1 “High” places?
5 Flag down
9 Caller ID?
14 El __, Texas
15 Actor Idris who
plays Heimdall in
“Thor” films
16 Mozart wrote a lot
of them
17 Dungeness
delicacies
19 Omni rival
20 One reviewing
challenges
22 Fish eggs
23 Brooding genre
24 One who’s got
you covered
32 Pig’s sniffer
33 Weep for
34 See 27-Down
35 Sch. near the
U.S.-Mexico
border
36 Law school
subject
37 Put on the cloud,
say
38 Writer Deighton
39 “It Wasn’t All
Velvet” memoirist
40 Asks
41 One seen in a
Hanes catalog
44 Aromatic
necklace
45 “How We Do
(Party)” British
singer Rita __
46 Predictable work
... and, in a way,
what the other
three longest
answers are?
54 Implied
55 Chain used by
many contractors
56 Courtroom pro
57 Take testimony
from
58 Depend
59 “The Ant and the
Grasshopper”
storyteller
60 Philosophies
61 Fort SSW of
Louisville

DOWN
1 Shelter gp.
2 Big name in
Tombstone

3 “By yesterday!”
4 Sleeps it off
5 Physician,
ideally
6 Commercial word
with Seltzer
7 “Oh, suuure”
8 Cut with a beam
9 Cruel
10 Papillon, e.g.
11 Deer sir
12 Dole (out)
13 Ballpark fig.
18 Influence
21 Ballpark
opinions, at times
24 One-__ chance
25 Incessantly
26 “When the moon
hits your eye”
feeling
27 With 34-Across,
Sally Field film
28 More adorable
29 Make blank
30 Piercing site,
perhaps
31 Scottish center?
32 Sci-fi navigator
36 Specifically
37 Float fixer
39 Place with a
bird’s-eye view

40 Went carefully
(over)
42 Nickname of
golfer Sergio
García, who
turned pro at
age 19
43 Shakers’
relatives?
46 “Mom” actor
Corddry
47 Treats, as a
sprain

48 Surprised
greeting
49 They’re not on
the same page
50 Religious scholar
51 Premiere
52 Simple tie
53 Where Achilles
was dipped for
invincibility
54 Org. operating
full-body
scanners

CHECK OUT OUR COOL

www.michigandaily.com

WEBSITE.

Many
people,
myself
included, are fascinated by
home videos. They evoke a
sense of comfort and wonder.
They make us consider how
much we and the people we
love have changed. In “how we
live — messages to the family,”
the final feature film screened
at last weekend’s 57th Ann
Arbor Film Festival, Austrian
director
Gustav
Deutsch explores
the
beauty
of
home
videos
as
an
art
form
with
remarkable
compassion.
Deutsch begins
the film by asking
his
audience
to
suspend
their
disbelief.
He
says,
“Imagine
we are sitting at
home, the screen
is set up, the projector ready
and we start watching home
movies together.” He then
proceeds
to
present
the
footage, found through film
archives across the globe, of a
select few families that come
from different backgrounds,
nationalities and time periods,
all the while commenting on
the specifics of their lives.
“how we live” doesn’t seize
you. It doesn’t demand that you
pay attention to it. It doesn’t
aspire to entertain. Because
of this, it’s very easy to detach
yourself from the images being

presented. Admittedly, I found
myself doing this at times. I
struggled to connect to and
invest myself in people I’ve
never met, many of whom are
long gone. However, there’s
another, far more interesting
way to engage with the film
that I found myself embracing
by the end of it. You can either
view the faces and places
shown on-screen as people
you never knew and places you
have never been, or you can
try to adopt the perspective of

the person behind the camera,
someone who sees what they’re
filming as something worth
capturing.
In a particularly striking
piece of film from the 1950s,
a man on a ship films his wife
overlooking the New York City
skyline as they prepare to leave
for Greece, their homeland.
She is beautiful and she seems
happy, but that’s about all
that can be inferred from the
footage alone. However, when
you consider the image from
the perspective of a husband
in love, everything changes.

“How We Live” is a myriad
of moments just like this. In
understanding that the people
captured in these videos were
once alive, with thoughts and
feelings just like our own, we
come to love them. Deutsch
challenges us to practice our
own empathy, to try our best
to care about people and places
we will never know ourselves.
Despite
being
an
active
participant
in
it,
I
often
find
myself
criticizing
my
generation’s
relationship
with
technology
and its devotion
to
broadcasting
all aspects of life
on social media.
After seeing “how
we live,” my view
has been altered.
As
a
result
of
breakthroughs
in
technology,
we’ve been given
the wholly unique
ability to capture
our
experiences
with our phones and share
them
with
others
with
unprecedented ease. And even
though the majority of us will
almost inevitably be forgotten
by history, documenting the
parts of our lives that best
represent who we were and
what we felt is our closest
chance to becoming immortal.
Perhaps one day a filmmaker
from the future will want to
resurrect us from the past and
show the world how we lived.
By acting as documentarians
of our lives now, we can give
them the chance.

‘how we live’ is a waltz
of homemade video magic

ELISE GODFRYD
Daily Arts Writer

Downhill Lullaby

Sky Ferreira

Capitol Records

SINGLE REVIEW: ‘DOWNHILL LULLABY’

After a nearly six-year
hiatus,
Sky
Ferreira
has
returned
with
the
new
single “Downhill Lullaby”
from a forthcoming
untitled
studio
album. This time,
she
has
forsaken
her typical synthy
production
and
uptempo rhythm in
favor
of
haunting
strings and a dark,
rolling
bass
line.
It is a downbeat
and
atmospheric
track
that
toes
the
line
between
being a slow burner
and being a dirge,
almost redolent of
Lana Del Rey — a far cry
from the grungy electropop
of Night Time, My Time.
The highlight of the song is
the surreal, swelling string
arrangement,
performed

by
Danish
violinist
Nils
Gröndahl.
The song was co-produced
by the “Twin Peaks” music

supervisor
Dean
Hurley,
which is fitting given its
Lynchian,
“out-of-time”
feeling and foreboding tone
(Ferreira cameoed in “Twin
Peaks: The Return” a year

ago). It is not a pop song —
it’s not exactly hummable,
and it’s certainly not catchy.
It feels as though it would be
best listened to late
at night at a point
in your life when
everything
feels
wrong.
It
is
pleasant
as a one-off, but
an
album
full
of
“Downhill Lullaby”-
style tracks would
quickly
turn
into
a
slog.
Luckily,
Ferreira has stated
that the rest of her
upcoming
project
will be more poppy
— but it remains to
be seen whether it will be as
bold.

— Jonah Mendelson, Daily
Arts Writer

CAPITOL RECORDS

how we live —
messages to the
family

The Michigan Theater

Kranzelbinder Gabriele Productions

FESTIVAL COVERAGE

KRANZELBINDER GABRIELE PRODUCTIONS

After a long break, “Game of
Thrones” will return to HBO in
a few weeks for its final season.
The first four episodes will clock
in at 54, 58, 60 and 70 minutes,
respectively. The final two are
slated at 80 minutes each. “It’s
a spectacle,” the chairman of
HBO told Variety in January.
“The guys have done six movies.
The reaction I had while
watching them was, ‘I’m
watching a movie.’ ” The
slight
wrinkle
in
this
compliment was that the
guys in question — that
is,
showrunners
David
Benioff and D.B. Weiss —
had already said at a panel
years
before
that
they
saw their series not as a
television show, and not
as a collection of movies,
but rather as one grand
73-hour movie.
This sort of thinking
has suddenly become very
en vogue among the prestige TV
creative class. Television that
aspires to the long, cinematic and
amorphous is now considered
nothing less than a hallmark
of genius. And freed from the
traditional
mindset
of
the
medium, with the gates of cinema
in sight, what’s to stop episodes of
television from creeping slowly
past the hour mark and toward
90-minute territory?
The appeal of the streaming
age is that it has made obsolete
the less savory constraints of
television. A show no longer

needs to be 22 or 45 minutes
because
there’s
nothing
necessarily scheduled to come
before or after it; it exists in its
own space. Scripts and scenes
don’t have to be timed for act
breaks anymore because there
are no ads. No advertisements
means no advertisers, and thus
no need for creators to hew to
the plots and characters and
premises
that
conventional
wisdom dictates will win over
the most viewers. In many ways,

this is a good thing — without
these developments, we don’t
end up with “Orange is the New
Black” or “Shrill” or “BoJack
Horseman.” It is a kind of radical
conceit: art for art’s sake. Art
that doesn’t have to mold itself to
network contours. Art made just
because it can be made.
And artistic freedom is great,
sure. But with great power
comes great responsibility. For
every Dalí painting there is an
“Episode I: Phantom Menace.”
For every Mahler symphony,
a (shudder) montage set to

“Fix You” by Coldplay on “The
Newsroom.” Just because you
can do something doesn’t mean
you should. There is — believe it
or not — value in constraint and
discipline. Maybe in theory there
are circumstances in which it’s
appropriate for an episode to
run 70 minutes long, but if “Mad
Men” could lay bare the show’s
central relationship in one utterly
perfect 48-minute episode, if
“The Good Place” can upend its
entire plot and sprinkle in some
eschatological ruminations
in 22 minutes every week,
I’m having a difficult time
imagining
what
exactly
those circumstances are.
There has always been
a lot of handwringing in
the art world about the
relationship
between
content
and
form.
Are
they distinct elements? Is
the message inextricable
from the messenger? There
are no easy answers here,
except that when you’re
making television, both of
them are very important.
Cable and streaming shows these
days deal in profound ideas and
metaphors, and when done well,
they are moving and beautiful
and impossible not to appreciate.
But when the pacing is sluggish,
when the scenes feel a slog, when
you are angrily checking your
watch and wondering why HBO
spends so much money on CGI-
ing dragons and not, say, on one
editor, the profundity is all for
naught. I love TV that challenges,
that experiments and subverts.
More importantly, though, I love
TV that ends.

Your television show does
not need to be as long as it is

MAITREYI ANANTHARAMAN
Daily Arts Writer

TV NOTEBOOK

HBO

There has always been
a lot of handwringing in
the art world about the
relationship between
content and form.

6 — Thursday, April 4, 2019
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com