The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Monday, November 4, 2019 — 5A
In the modern movement of “wokeness,” it’s
easy to forget all the issues and movements phasing
in and out of social media. If you already forgot
about the #MeToo movement, it found its way
back into relevancy in “The Morning Show.” News
anchorman Mitch Kessler (Steve Carell, “Welcome
to Marwen”) gets fired from popular news show
“The Morning Show” for sexual misconduct,
and he has to learn to deal with his tarnished
reputation while the cast and crew are left to pick
up the pieces. He leaves behind his co-star of 15
years in Alex Levy (Jennifer Aniston, “Murder
Mystery”) to take on the responsibilities of hosting
the show, as the network threatens to replace her
with someone newer and fresher. The show dives
deep into the broader implications of these issues
and smoothy diverts becoming preachy and self-
righteous.
The way the show portrays the cold, bureaucratic
side of the news industry is the most entertaining
aspect of the show. It’s often a backdrop against the
very human consequences that sexual misconduct
cases cause, but nonetheless revealing in how
disgustingly frigid and unsympathetic industry
can be. The network executive, Cory Ellison (Billy
Crudup, “Where’d You Go, Bernadette”), is clearly
unfazed by Kessler’s incident and speaks in terms
of show ratings and how the network can spin the
incident in their favor. Against Aniston’s hard-
hitting and soulful performance, Crudup performs
an
almost
opposite
performance,
perfectly
embodying the robotic, heartless businessman
he portrays. They resonate off each other as two
sides of the same coin — both willing to sacrifice
whatever it takes to achieve their goals, but
emotionally affected by Kessler’s crime in different
ways.
Aniston and Ellison weren’t the only ones who
stood out in a cast of Hollywood icons. Reese
Witherspoon (“Big Little Lies”), who plays field
journalist Bradley Jackson, proves herself yet
again as one of the most versatile actresses of our
generation in a scene where she melts down while
reporting for a protest. Apart from the money grab,
there’s a reason why producers try to string along
as many stars as they can, and this series certainly
proved that these stars have something more than
good publicity to offer.
“The Morning Show” also gets into the longevity
of sexual misconduct cases, and how they don’t just
disappear after the news cycle forgets about it. Alex
Levy grapples with being left in the dark about
the issue for so long, then immediately having to
address it in public. She is constantly addressed in
terms of the incident, asked if she’s okay and slowly
being phased out by the network as they try to find
another female face for the show. At the same time,
Kessler, fueled by his own ego, wonders if he should
set out to prove his self-proclaimed innocence as
he continuously screams, “I didn’t rape anybody”
and “they liked it.” He broods around his house
and stews in his own anger as the truth about the
details of his sexual misconduct case is slowly
revealed to us.
The perspective of the perpetrator and the
periphery is one we are hardly given when it comes
to sexual misconduct cases, and “The Morning
Show” goes into realistic depth with it. It shows
us exactly how far-reaching these issues can get,
particularly in the entertainment industry where
everything is easily publicized. For one of the first
shows of the new Apple TV+ streaming service,
it does an impressive job, which isn’t all that
surprising given the amount of stars attached. If
they pump out some juicy content adjacent to this,
Apple could have the potential to play ball in the
big leagues and make the company an even bigger
empire than it already is.
‘Morning Show’ highlights
the reach of present scars
SOPHIA YOON
Daily Arts Writer
TV REVIEW
WORLD MUSIC COLUMN
While his musical career (especially
outside the Francophone world) has largely
been overshadowed by that of his brilliant
wife Françoise Hardy, Jacques Dutronc’s
pair of self-titled albums released in the
1960s hold up unexpectedly well decades
later. Elements of the garage rock coming
out of the U.S. during his teenage years
are abound, these aspects mixing with the
sounds and attitudes of yé-yé, the loose,
bubbly style of French pop which originated
years earlier.
Another crucial part of the songwriting
on the two self-titled albums (released in
1966 and 1968) were the lyrics. Jacques
Lanzmann — a renaissance man novelist,
journalist and songwriter who at the time
when he met Dutronc was the editor of
the raunchy men’s magazine Lui — helped
infuse
Dutronc’s
already
suave
sound
with a distinctly French sense of sarcasm
and aloofness. With Lanzmann’s help,
Dutronc’s music gained a propensity to
ridicule everything and everyone popular
at the time.
One of the early and most enduring hits
of this partnership was the 1966 single “Et
moi, et moi, et moi” (“And I, and I, and I”),
a simple garage rock track with a heavy
dose of cynicism in its lyrics. He sings,
“Cinquante millions de vietnamiens \ Et
moi, et moi, et moi \ Le dimanche à la \
chasse au lapin \ Avec mon fusil, je suis le
roi \J’y pense et puis j’oublie C’est la vie,
c’est la vie” (“Fifty million Vietnamese \
and me, and me, and me \ hunting rabbits
on Sundays \ with my rifle, I am the king
\ I think of it and then I forget it \ That’s
life, that’s life”). Along with this reference
to the Vietnam war, Dutronc refers to the
plight of hundreds of millions around the
world while contrasting them with the
petty worries of his selfish Frenchman and
his headaches and his “habits and tics in his
little goose feather bed.”
The cover of the 1968 self-titled features
Dutronc suited up, snarling off-camera
with a cigar sandwiched between his teeth.
It is a fitting emblem to the type of chic he
represented as well as the music contained
within the album. While officially titled
Jacques Dutronc, it is perhaps even more
known as “Il est cinq heures” after both
its as well as Dutronc as a whole’s biggest
hit “Il est cinq heures, Paris s’éveille” (“It’s
five o’clock, Paris awakens”). Considered by
many to be one of the best French-language
singles ever released, it paints a portrait of
Paris in the early morning hours, an idea
that has been explored heavily by countless
artists, musicians and writers throughout
the decade. In a fashion reminiscent of
the poet Baudelaire, he looks into the
less postcard-worthy scenes, describing,
“Les stripteaseuses sont rhabillées \ Les
traversins sont écrasés \ Les amoureux
sont fatigués” (“The strippers are dressed
again, the bolsters are crushed, the lovers
are tired”) and calling the famous Paris-
Montparnasse station “nothing more than
a carcass.”
Similarly, Dutronc satirizes the hippie
lifestyle of the time in “Hippie Hippie
Hourrah,” declaring, “J’aime les fleurs et
la fumée \ Je ne suis plus un revolté \ Les
Beatniks c’est dépassé \ Maintenant le
monde il faut l’aimer” (“I love the flowers
and smoke \ I’m not a rebel anymore \ The
beatniks are passé \ Now we must love the
world”). Dutronc’s voice is highly Dylan-
esque (with slightly better melodic talents)
and pairs well with these type of more
straightforward garage rockers, but also
shines in more earnest pieces such as “Les
rois de la réforme,” an anti-war track in
which he converses with Monsieurs Calvin
(John Calvin), Luther (Martin Luther),
Luthin and Calvaire about giving up the
uniform.
As Jeremy Allen of The Guardian notes,
Dutronc’s “cigar-chomping visage is the
true embodiment of French pop at its most
chic.” While he continued to release music
as he transitioned his career into acting,
none of them reached the heights that
his first two did with their (rather rare)
combination of witty cynicism and youthful
energy.
On the chicness of Dutranc
SAYAN GHOSH
Daily World Music Columnist
Jesus is King is here, and it is … something.
It’s hard to put into words. We had been waiting for almost a
year for Kanye to finally release Yandhi — his leak-prone, now-
unreleased album — when it was suddenly replaced by Jesus is
King in late August. The hype for Yandhi was palpable. Based on
the leaks, Yandhi was set to be a mixture between the menagerie-
like beats of the ever-polarizing The Life of Pablo and
the cracked-out lyricism of the oft-reviled Ye, but with
even zanier production and feature credits. Instead
of Metro Boomin and Kid Cudi, we would have gotten
Ronny J and XXXTentacion. However, Jesus is King is
unlike anything we’ve heard from Kanye.
Kanye has toyed with the idea of gospel music
before, most recently on The Life of Pablo, but on his
most recent release, he attempts to take a full plunge.
He forgoes all cursing, replacing it with near-comical
amounts of non-stop Jesus talk. It’s often hard to tell
if he means what he says. Sometimes, it’s earnest.
On “Closed on Sunday,” he prays to God to give him
the strength to protect and preserve his family and
himself from the devil, rapping, “I pray to God that
He’ll strengthen my hand / They will think twice
steppin’ on my land … Try me and you will see I ain’t
playin’ / Now back up off my family, move your hands.”
Sure, he puts a little hip-hop twist on it, but it’s mostly
like gospel music. Earlier though, on the same song,
Kanye sings, presumably to his wife, “Closed on
Sunday, you my Chick-Fil-A / You my number one,
with the lemonade.” Now this is a little strange: He’s
comparing his wife to Chick-Fil-A and states that she’s “closed
on Sunday” and then goes on to say that she’s the only one for
him by comparing her to the famous number one meal (with
the lemonade) from the fast-food chain. This head-scratching
flip-flopping trend between sanctity and absurdity continues
throughout the album.
The production, on the other hand, is mostly enjoyable, but as
the omnipresent beatsmith Kenny Beats said, “I feel like the 808s
on Jesus is King could have used some premarital sex.” Not only
is that hilarious, but it’s also true. The production sounds great,
even excellent at times, but it’s missing something — a certain
oomph. With production credits from new schoolers like Pi’erre
Bourne and FNZ and legends like Timbaland and West himself,
it’d be reasonable to expect some earth-rattling bass and mind-
altering samples, but they never come, lest we forget that this is
a gospel album.
Jesus is King does have a few great moments among the
bizarre and disappointing. Clipse join forces for the first time
in six years on “Use This Gospel,” Kenny G lays down a bitchin’
saxophone solo also on the same song, Kanye returns to the
aggression and intensity of old on “Follow God,” Pi’erre Bourne
busts out a pair of speaker-busting synth lines and drops his
signature tags not once, but twice on “On God.” Sadly, the great
moments are few and far between and are weighed down by
questionable decisions, and unfortunately, that does not make
for a good album.
— Jim Wilson, Daily Arts Writer
Kanye went through all the effort of cutting out cursing on
Jesus Is King, so I figure it’s only right that I do the same. And
on that note: Holy crap, the album actually came, and it feels
legendary. Kanye West is in a special class of fabled musical
figures — somewhere between Kendrick Lamar and Frank Ocean
— whose mere hint of new music makes tidal waves within the
sea that is the hip-hop community. The holy water is finally
raining down.
Jesus Is King is not a rap album with religious influence — this
is straight-up Christian music. There are elements of electronic
and soul in addition to contemporary gospel, but what strings
it all together is Christianity, not hip hop. Of course, this
makes it a little less palatable for the not-so-Christian. And as
Christian as it is, there is still less Christ and more Kanye (to
nobody’s surprise). It’s certainly not a gospel album by anyone’s
definition other than Kanye’s. But I’ll get there.
Religious or not, there’s no denying that this album opens
with ferocity. Kanye really nailed the “King” part of Jesus Is
King, because the Sunday Service choir is at its swankiest on
“Every Hour,” and the roaring thunderclap percussion of
“Selah” invokes a glorious sense of a higher power.
And that’s about where the quality in this album ends for
the most part. There are some
other high points — “Follow
God” features a classic kickin’
Kanye beat, and “On God” has
that Graduation-esque-gonna-
slap-in-the-stadium type of
effervescence. But both songs
clock in at about two minutes,
a twisted tease of what could
have been. The only other cool
thing is “Use This Gospel,”
which reunites Pusha T and
No Malice of Clipse for the
first time in God knows how
long (OK, six years, but that’s
an eternity in popular music
now). Four minutes of music
that feels like “the old Kanye”
and a collective 16 bars from
Clipse are not enough to
celebrate.
So where does this album
fail? Does Christianity mess
with Kanye’s creative ju-ju?
Definitely not — from “Jesus
Walks” to “Ultralight Beam,”
God has been the backbone
of some of Kanye’s greatest
and most inspired music. But
nothing on Jesus Is King feels
particularly great or inspired. By the time I got to “God Is,”
I felt alienated by the subject matter: It’s less gospel and more
unchecked ego, something I should have realized on “Selah”
when he started comparing his public persecution to that of Jesus
and Noah. I do admire Kanye’s gruff and breathy singing on the
track, though. It feels very performative, like a pastor belting at
a sermon.
It’s too bad that not even the production can make up for the
album’s failings. Ever since The Life of Pablo, Kanye has embraced
a minimalist production style that’s all about giving the music
room to breathe. This style isn’t necessarily bad — it worked on
Pablo, then again (to a lesser degree) on Ye, and other artists are
doing it better (see Billie Eilish’s latest) — but it’s not working for
Kanye in 2019. Instrumentally, tracks like “Closed On
Sunday,” “Everything We Need” and “Hands On” are
profoundly uninteresting. “Water” breaks from this
trend, and is kinda cool in a surrealist way, but it goes
nowhere. It just makes me want to listen to Kendrick
Lamar’s far more interesting “For Sale? - Interlude.”
It doesn’t have to be this way. I won’t debate that the
writing is genuinely awful on this project — “Closed
on Sunday” is a bigger lyrical embarrassment than last
year’s “Lift Yourself.” It doesn’t sound good even if you
care about Kanye; if anything, that makes it worse. This
is writing that sounds good only if you are Kanye. But
he does have a history of winning over listeners even
when his writing is alienating. The real patrician music
snobs will acknowledge that My Beautiful Dark Twisted
Fantasy is Kanye’s greatest album for it’s overproduced
opulence, despite the writing being condemned as “only
good if you care about Kanye.” So if people who can’t
resonate with the lyricism on Fantasy in a genre that is
all about lyricism can still laud it as one of the greatest
albums of all time, then there’s no reason Jesus Is King
couldn’t achieve the same. But even if the production
was creative and unique and exciting for any longer
than two minutes, I’m still certain that I wouldn’t want to hear
Kanye say the word “Jesus” ever again.
— Dylan Yono, Daily Arts Writer
Ye’s Christian album: Two takes on ‘JESUS IS KING’
WIKIMEDIA COMMONS / DEF JAM
JESUS IS KING
Kanye West
Def Jam Recordings
ALBUM REVIEW
The Morning
Show
Pilot
Apple TV+
Streaming Now
JIM WILSON
Daily Arts Writer
DYLAN YONO
Daily Arts Writer