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HEY.

YOU'RE
DOING GREAT
AND WE
know you
can do it.

Don't give up!

By Jeff Stillman
©2019 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
04/17/19

Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle

Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis

04/17/19

ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:

Release Date: Wednesday, April 17, 2019

ACROSS
1 Another name for
hopscotch
6 Naysayer
10 West Coast
salmon
14 Curly-tailed guard
dog
15 Brought into
being
16 Intl. oil group
17 Develop hives
20 Golden years
group
21 Wedding invite
request
22 Wedding vow
word
23 Tablecloth
material
25 Snake,
periodically
26 Part with a
gesture
31 Red __
32 Inexperienced, as
a recruit
33 “I should add ... ”
37 Easter
beginning?
38 Glittery bit on a
dress
42 Uber info
43 Like Tommy, in
the rock opera
45 “That hurt!” cries
46 Swell up
48 Be a second-
stringer
52 Eucharist plates
55 Hops-drying
oven
56 Protestant
denom.
57 Close buds
59 Spanish hors
d’oeuvre
63 2002 Spielberg
film ... and a
hint to the start
of 17-, 26- and
48-Across
66 Cuatro times dos
67 Red Sox star
Big __
68 Phased-out Apple
messaging tool
69 Takes in
70 Vane spinner
71 Lecherous looks

DOWN
1 Bygone
sunscreen
ingredient
2 Fried side with a
po’boy

3 Organization
chart level
4 Fastening
gadget
5 Chatter
6 One taking
advantage of
privilege
7 Rule during
homework time,
perhaps
8 Word with road
or side
9 Traveler’s rest
10 Toyota compact
11 Dizzying
pictures
12 State bordering
Bavaria
13 Orangy-yellow
18 Seal predator
19 Object of a mil.
search
24 Siesta hrs.
25 Cry weakly
26 Beauxbatons
Academy coat of
arms symbol, in
Harry Potter
27 With 28-Down,
hand lotion
ingredient
28 See 27-Down
29 Dadaist Max
30 Bit of a tail flip
34 Boxer Spinks

35 Legato’s
opposite, in mus.
36 Hand-on-the-
Bible promise
39 Vanilla
containers
40 Leave
dumbstruck
41 Drops off
44 Paintings on wet
plaster
47 Salad green
49 Go very slowly
50 Go on foot

51 “Slow down!”
52 Rio Grande
tributary
53 On the double
54 10% donation
57 Steady guy
58 Places for patches
60 Yoga aftereffect,
perhaps
61 Carson
predecessor
62 Little scurriers
64 Rd. efficiency stat
65 Engine need

I’ve always been Becky. I
think it’s because my parents
felt weird calling an infant
such a large and syllable-filled
name like Rebecca. First I
was Baby Becky then Becky
Boo then Miss Becky then just
Becky. I liked being Becky,
mostly because it wasn’t basic
like Rachel or Sarah or Leah.
Becky was also temporary, a
name that I would outgrow like
my Velcro light-up sketchers or
my cheetah print Limited Too
camisole.
I thought one day, I would
wake up and know today
was the day I would become
Rebecca. I would develop a
slight affectation and go to an
Ivy League school and marry a
man named James or Henry or
William. When college rolled
around, I tried Rebecca on for a
while. I let her come with me to
parties and dates and even The
Daily’s mass meeting. My first
article was published under the
name “Rebecca,” but I could
never fully take ownership of
it because it didn’t feel like me.
I wasn’t Rebecca, I was Becky.
But Becky has not been
an easy name to bear. Every
Starbucks order, every job
application,
they
wonder.
Becky, really? Yeah, the name’s
Becky, what’s it to you, Denise?
From Sir Mix-a-Lot’s butt-
gazing Becky to Beyoncé’s
“Becky with the good hair” to
the criminal behavior of our
once beloved Aunt Becky, my
name has become one heavy
with
cultural
significance.
When I was in middle school,
the hottest thing to do was look
words up on Urban Dictionary.
People
would
look
up
everything from “hairbrush”
to “flogging” and giggle to their

dirty little prepubescent selves.
One day, a boy in my class
thought it would be “funny” to
look up every single name in
our class (easy coming from a
dude named David). When he

looked up my name he found
that Becky is synonymous with
oral sex or “a stereotypical,
basic
white
girl;
obsessed
with Starbucks, Ugg boots and
trying to have a bigger butt.” I
think that was the first time I
felt insecure about my name,
anxious and eager for the time
I would become Rebecca. For
a few weeks, my name would
provoke explicit gestures and
catcalls, but like anything in
middle school it went out of
vogue almost as quickly as it
entered it.
A few weeks ago, The Wall
Street Journal Opinion section
published an article with the
title
“Notable
&
Quotable:
Beckys.” My mother sent me a
picture of it because, obviously,
she
gets
the
Wall
Street
Journal (and what college
student actually subscribes to
the Wall Street Journal). The
blurb highlighted a symposium
at the American Education
Research
Association’s
annual conference in Toronto.
The
symposium
addressed

fanfiction
about
“Beckys.”
The panel on said “Beckys”
was
titled
“Critical
Becky
Studies: Critical Exploration
of
Gender,
Race
and
the
Pedagogies of Whiteness” and
included a variety of essays and
discussions on the topic.
One paper titled “Becky
Book
Club:
White
Racial
Bonding in the Living Room”
considers book clubs in white,
suburban living rooms and the
underlying white supremacy
and
surveillance
that
lurk
beneath the charcuterie board
and
chardonnay.
Another
paper titled “Border Becky:
Exploring
White
Women’s
Emotionality,
Ignorance,
Investment
in
Whiteness”
explores white women who
may be found on the edge, on
the border of choosing to be a
“race traitor” or “repledging
their
allegiance
to
white
supremacy.”
OK, so I thought Critical
Becky Studies would be more
about uncovering the true
identity of Jay-Z’s accomplice
in
his
extramarital
affair
(Rachel
Roy?
Rita
Ora?
Me?) and less about white
supremacy. Nevertheless, it’s
interesting to see how far the
concept of Becky has come. The
Becky has surpassed tabloids
and song lyrics and has now
officially entered the point of
no return: academia.
Say what you will about
the
stereotypical
Becky;
the
bleach-blonde-haired
Becky, the Juicy sweatsuit-
wearing Becky, the Pinot in a
Swell bottle Becky. But I am
reclaiming Becky. I am my
own Becky and my Becky is not
those Beckys, she is her own
goddamn Becky goddamnit.

BECKY
PORTMAN

DAILY HUMOR COLUMN

Call me by my name: On
learning to love ‘Becky’

One
of
the
most
unforgettable
scenes
from
“The
Breakfast
Club”
is
when each student reveals
their juiciest secrets. Now,
take that same scene and
imagine it without all of the
context that precedes it: no
impromptu dance sequence,
no racy banter between Claire
and Bender and
no recollection
of
the
nerd,
jock,
burnout
and
princess
archetypes that
each
character
embodies.
Without
these
previous scenes,
which
are
fundamental
in
establishing
the characters’
personalities
and backstories,
we would have
zero
reason
to
invest
in
any
of
the
protagonists,
and
this
infamous
classic would be just another
mediocre
’80s
teen
flick.
“Who Would You Take to
a Deserted Island” is this
hypothetical Breakfast Club
failure.
Unable
to
create
multidimensional characters,
and
providing
a
minimal
frame of reference for the
characters’
relationships,
the film is nothing short of
lifeless, earning itself the
label of just another low-
quality drama.
On a hot, summer day
in Madrid, tensions fizzle
between twenty-somethings
housemates Celeste (Andrea
Ros
“[Rec]
2”),
Eze
(Pol
Monen
“Loving”),
Marcos
(Jaime
Lorente
“Money

Heist”) and Marco’s live-
in girlfriend Marta (María
Pedraza “Money Heist”), as
they each prepare to enter
new life chapters and go their
separate ways. Determined
to celebrate their friendship
with one last hurrah, the
gang hits the town for a wild
night saturated with alcohol
and drugs. Though intending
to dance the night away,
their spirited evening quickly
turns sour upon returning

to their apartment for a
nightcap. As the drinks flow
freely, the roomies strike up
a seemingly innocent game of
what-ifs, but soon suppressed
secrets bubble to the surface,
tears are spilled and the very
fabric of the foursome’s bond
threatens to tear.
Central
to
the
film’s
flimsiness is its practically
non-existent plotline. It is
almost insulting to viewers to
suppose that we would latch
onto a drama crafted under
circumstances as stupid and
immature as a party game.
Yes, the game was just the
spark that blew up the layers
of resentments and hostilities
beneath, but the fact that the

bonds shared between these
longtime friends were able
to topple faster than a house
of playing cards seems quite
unrealistic and excessively
melodramatic.
Despite assumed attempts
to wow audiences with high
drama and attractive actors,
the hard truth is that this
film is literally about nothing.
The majority of its scenes
feel pointless and without
direction because, with such a
barebones plot,
there truly is
nowhere to go
but in circles.
The
film
is
a
dangerous
combination of
puddle-deep
characters
mixed
with
reality
TV
level
drama.
The year-long
resentments
and
heated
love-triangles
that are thrown
our way seem
to
come
out
of
nowhere,
making
the
theatrically-
staged
argument
scenes
appear
more dull and confusing than
profound. Further, without
exploring
the
intersection
and history of the characters’
stories, the film makes the
costly mistake of expecting
us to put together the pieces
ourselves. This leads us to
disconnect entirely.
Harsh or not, there is
honestly not much that can be
said on behalf of “Who Would
You Take on a Deserted
Island.”
Lacking
rhythm,
direction or tang, though only
a mere hour and a half long,
the film feels unbearably
slow, ultimately coming off
as a tedious and valueless
muddle.

FILM REVIEW
‘Deserted Island’ was a
terrible film experience

SAMANTHA NELSON
Daily Arts Writer

Who Would You Take to a Deserted
Island

Netflix

Canica Films

The
legend
of
Orpheus
recounts the tale of a musician
— the best musician of all time,
according to legend. Son of
the muse Calliope and taught
how to play the lyre by Apollo
himself, it is said his music had
the ability to charm animals
and make trees dance. I didn’t
see
any
hypnotized
Diag
squirrels or dancing oaks, but
the Orpheus Singers certainly
lived up to their name. Directed
by Eugene Rogers, the smallest
of the School of Music, Theatre
& Dance choirs put on a night of
beautiful classical choir pieces
that charmed their audience.
Admittedly,
the
concert
was off to a rocky start with
“Christ lag in Todesbanden,
BWV 4” by Johann Sebastian
Bach. Though the sections
had perfect blend, flawless
harmonies and angelic tone,
the
performance
lacked
enthusiasm. With few vocal
dynamics
and
no
facial

expression, the first section
of the concert was relatively
unengaging.
There
seemed
to be no passion for these
hauntingly beautiful pieces.
Though
singing
pieces
in
different
languages
are
typically less engaging, the
best performances can convey
meaning even through the
language barrier.
However,
the
enthusiasm
increased
as
the
concert
progressed. The remaining two
pieces, “Fern Hill” and “Five
Mystical Songs” were much
livelier. Halfway through the
concert, it seemed as though a
switch had been flipped, and lo
and behold! Dynamics! There
were so many shifts in the
music, designated by the sharp
crescendos and decrescendos,
skillfully
and
beautifully
executed.
The
many
soloists
throughout
the
evening
particularly embodied those
strong
connections,
really
bringing the pieces to life. All
of the singers had beautiful
voices, but SMTD Master’s

student Meridian Prall was
particularly impressive. She
didn’t just sing with exquisite
tone and impressive vibrato —
she performed. By the end of
her solo, I had chills.
Another stand out soloist
was University alumni Sam
Kidd,
who
was
featured
strongly
in
“Five
Mystical
Songs” to end the concert. His
powerful voice rang through
the
auditorium
and
could
even rival the choir when they
joined him. Some of the best
parts of the entire concert were
when the orchestra dropped
out and the choir harmonized
with hums in the background
as Kidd continued his solo.
Those few moments seemed
almost magical.
While the concert at times
wasn’t quite as engaging as it
could have been, the Orpheus
Singers made up for it with
their incredible sound. Very
rarely have I heard such a pure
tone and the perfect blend
between sections. If Orpheus
is the best musician of all time,
this choir is aptly named.

The Orpheus Singers live
up to their legendary name

COMMUNITY CULTURE REVIEW

DANA PIERANGELI
Daily Arts Writer

Though singing pieces in different languages are typically
less engaging, the best performances can convey meaning
even through the language barrier.

6A — Wedensday, April 17, 2019
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com