The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Monday, November 18, 2019 — 5A

Hailing from the metropolis of São Paulo, the Brazilian Tropicália band Os Mutantes’s 
(which translates to “The Mutants”) 1968 self-titled album somehow sounds as if The 
Beatles moved to South America and took even more psychedelics. One of the most 
creative groups to ever come out of the country with a rich musical history rivaling 
any others, their success was brief at the time they were active, but their name has seen 
somewhat of a resurgence decades later. 
The group’s origins lie in the relationship that developed between Rita Lee Jones and 
Arnaldo Baptista when they were both teenagers in the mid-1960s. Along with Arnaldo’s 
younger brother Sérgio, they formed Os Mutantes in 1965, and within a couple years, 
they found themselves in the middle of one of Brazil’s burgeoning musical movements. 
Spearheaded by the singer Caetano Veloso as well as others such as Gilberto Gil and 
Nara Leão, the Tropicália movement was born. 
At the time, Brazil was under the rule of a brutal military dictatorship which heavily 
espoused conservative/traditionalist views. Tropicália emerged as a countercultural 
movement that was at its core musical, but encompassed much more. Veloso, Gil and 
the other early collaborators wished to infuse the traditional samba and Bossa Nova 
forms with influences from psychedelic rock.
Ironically, the music, epitomized by the 1968 collaboration album/manifesto 
Tropicália: Ou Panis et Circensis (Tropicalism, or bread and circuses), seemed to anger 
both sides of the political spectrum. According to the band’s current label Luaka 
Bop, the right-wing dictatorship despised its inherent subversiveness, and the left 
viewed certain elements of it as representing a capitulation to the Anglophone world’s 
imperialism. 
The genre unfortunately would not live long, as its architects Veloso and Gil were 
imprisoned and eventually exiled by the end of the decade. While they continued 
to record and release music in England, the movement itself faltered without their 
presence and leadership. Groups including Os Mutantes and the Bahia based Novos 
Baianos carried the flag for a short period, yet the genre never again reached its early 
peak.
Both the genre’s as well as Os Mutantes’s increase in popularity outside of Brazil 
stem from a compilation (titled Everything is Possible: The Best of Os Mutantes) released 
in 1999 by David Byrne on his label, the aforementioned Luaka Bop, as well as name 
drops by figures such as Kurt Cobain. Bands ever since such as of Montreal have cited 
the unhinged chaos on the band’s early records. 
Appearing both on “Everything is 
Possible” and the self-titled “A Minha 
Menina,” a cover of a song by compatriot 
Jorge Ben Jor, is as good a poster child 
as any of this chaos. The distinctive 
psychedelic fuzz present in the chorus is 
a result of an ad-hoc pedal “powered by 
a sewing machine” built by Arnaldo and 
Sérgio’s older brother. Will Hodgkinson 
of The Guardian notes that this, as well as 
other jury-rigged elements of their musical 
setup, were made necessary due to “the 
lack of decent musical equipment in 1960s 
Brazil.” 
“A Minha Menina,” as well as other 
notable cuts such as “Panis Et Circenses” 
impressively never collapse under their 
own weight, considering just how much 
is thrown onto these tracks. Just as with 
The Avalanches’s 2000 plunderphonics 
masterpiece Since I Left You, each new listen 
of an Os Mutantes track reveals a small 
detail previously unnoticed. Moreover, it’s 
impossible to tell whether certain elements 
were a product of lack of equipment or an 
act of irreverent genius. 
As with many of their influences such as 
Jimi Hendrix and Sly and the Family Stone, 
heavy drug use and internal dysfunction 
brought about a premature end, with 
the subsequent years not proving quite 
productive for the trio, including episodes 
such as Arnaldo trying to unsuccessfully 
escape from a psychiatric institution. 
However, the band reunited in the 
early 2000s and continue to display the 
timelessness of their groundbreaking ’60s 
output.

Subversive strength

WORLD MUSIC COLUMN

SAYAN GHOSH
Daily World Music Columnist

“Pain and Glory,” directed by Pedro Almodóvar (“Julieta”), 
is one of those rare movies that feels like the culmination of its 
creator. Like Lynch’s “Eraserhead,” Gerwig’s “Lady Bird” and 
Cuarón’s “Roma,” it’s the film that its director was meant to 
make, perfectly blending their talents, personal aesthetic and 
life story to spectacular effect.
Almodóvar incorporates aspects of his life into “Pain and 
Glory,” and the conflicts feel bracingly personal, like flipping 
through someone’s diary and learning dark, juicy secrets. 
Yet, beyond this he captures something deeper, something 
universally human. “Pain and Glory” deals with what we’re 

all afraid to admit, the existential questions that keep us up at 
night.
The story of Salvador Mallo (Antonio Banderas, “The 
Laundromat”), an aging director living in Madrid coping with 
terrible health problems, will touch every viewer personally. 
One will wonder “how did they know this about me?” as they 
see aspects of their own lives play out on the screen. Be it lost 
love, family dysfunction, the terrible moments when one’s body 
turns against itself or a loss of purpose, “Pain and Glory” is 
unflinching about what makes life so difficult. Yet there’s also 
love, desire and creativity. It asks which one triumphs in the 
end: the pain or the glory of our lives?
“Pain and Glory” begins with Salvador visiting Alberto (Asier 
Etxeandia, “The Silent War”), an estranged friend and actor in 
one of his most famous films. This meeting sends Salvador down 
a troubled, fascinating journey of 
recollection. Not much happens 
on a narrative level — “Pain and 
Glory” is more about characters 
than plot — yet there are soaring 
victories 
and 
crushing 
defeats 
all the same. Salvador needs to 
decide how he will live out the 
rest of his days: Wasting away in 
his apartment and lamenting days 
gone by, or directing something 
new, even if it causes him physical 
agony.
Almodóvar cuts from Banderas’s 
Salvador to his younger self (Asier 
Flores) and back again, paralleling 
past events with present ones. His 
formative experiences with his 
mother (Penélope Cruz, “Murder 
on The Orient Express”) and a 
family 
friend 
named 
Eduardo 
(César Vicente) are vital additions 
to the story, not the unneceary 
gimmicks that flackbacks tend to 
be.
Wielding 
emotions 
like 
Hitchcock wielded plot, Almodóvar 
doles heartbreak, joy and mystery 

out slowly as layers of Salvador’s life are pulled back, letting it 
all build until astonishing truths are revealed.
Most of the audience wept throughout the last hour of the film. 
The excellent performances convey Almodóvar’s confessional 
script perfectly, making it strikingly genuine, like it’s more than 
just a movie. Every conversation sears with emotion, from the 
hilariously witty to the brutally tragic. Relationships are given 
ample room to grow, yet when the credits roll, one will wish 
there was more time to send with these enthralling characters.
“Pain and Glory” is shot with the colorful vision of an auteur 
and every scene pops, from stark white sheets on a lush, pastoral 
Spanish riverside to a chic modern Madrid apartment where 
Guggenheim-sought art hangs on the walls. It is rare to find 
a movie where everyone involved is on the top of their game. 
Almodóvar and the team behind “Pain and Glory” have created 
a stunning portrait of love, loss and, ultimately, humanity. It’s 
a masterpiece.

‘Pain and Glory’ is a masterful portrait of life and loss

FILM REVIEW

ANDREW WARRICK
Daily Arts Writer

Pain and Glory

Sony Pictures

State Theatre

SONY PICTURES CLASSICS

Over the past 12 years, Lady Antebellum has reigned 
over the sweetest slice of pop-country. Trio Hillary Scott, 
Charles Kelley and Dave Haywood have successfully 
cornered the Nashville market on heavenly harmonies 
and airy, mandolin-heavy instrumentals. Wholesome 
yet candy-coated, the resulting sound is like honey: 
consistently 
warm 
and 
shimmery. 
This 
is a soundscape that 
Ocean, the band’s latest 
release, leans further 
into. 
While 
sonically 
unsurprising, 
the 
album’s 
start 
is 
thematically 
unusual 
— it’s fearful. “What If 
I Never Get Over You” 
asks its title in earnest. 
“What if time doesn’t 
do what it’s supposed 
to do?” Scott questions, 
pushing back on the 
typical break-up song 
narrative that, for better or for worse, soon the ex will be 
forgotten. Instead, this song dares to dive into a worry 
that’s generally written off as melodramatic,and it does so 
thoughtfully.
The political statement of the album, “You Can Do 
You” misses the mark. “You can lean left, you can lean 
right” Lady A allows, then concludes that “We could all 
use a drink.” While the intentions behind this track are 
forgivable — the need to unify a live crowd in 2019 — it 
feels like they’re trying too hard. With a beachy, bouncy 
backdrop the hook “You can do you, I’ma do me” just 
sounds out of touch. 
“What I’m Leaving For” brings the band back down to 
what it does best: capturing the smaller moments. “Got my 
bags packed, got my ticket / got my heartache to go with 
it” Scott sighs as she kisses her kids goodbye for work. 
Although 
Lady 
A 
didn’t 
write 
this 
song, 
it 
feels like a peek 
behind the scenes 
fans 
haven’t 
seen before and 
doubles 
as 
a 
reminder of the 
group members’ 
other 
jobs 
as 
parents. 
“Be 
Patient 
With My Love” 
is 
a 
different 
kind of reminder. 
“Mighta done it 
this time / mighta 
drank too much 
wine” 
Kelley 
admits. 
This 
level of honesty 
is unseen on the 
group’s previous 
work and made 
all the more raw 
because 
Kelley 
co-wrote it. “I’m 
coming back to 

the man that I was / so please don’t give up” he pleads 
over a chorus of contemplative strings. 
“Alright” is classic Lady Antebellum, sunny and 
surface-level. Reading the lyrics: “No lie, no lie, no lie, 
yeah / it’s alright, alright, alright, yeah” suggests that, if 
anything, this song should be a guilty pleasure. But it isn’t. 
The hook is so infectious and reassuring that you barely 
notice the lazy writing.
Despite the band’s sunny magic, the best songs on 
Ocean sound suited for a wintery evening. “On a Night 
Like This” is a lovely, 
if 
somewhat 
plain, 
piano ballad. Scott and 
Kelley shine on their 
delivery of whimsical 
lyrics, 
namely 
“The 
days last sight turns 
to cool nights breeze 
/ And this love hangs 
thick like these willow 
leaves.”
“The 
Thing 
That 
Wrecks You” is, in 
fact, 
the 
song 
that 
wrecks you on this 
album. A collaboration 
with Little Big Town, 
another 
pop-country 
powerhouse, its members are given the chance to meet 
Kelley and Scott’s synergy and rise to the occasion. A song 
about an uneven relationship from the perspective of the 
person in power, it’s minute-long underwater-sounding 
outro is haunting. “You’re a deer in headlights / and I’m 
driving just as fast as I can” warns Little Big Town until 
both bands explode into the chorus.
For the most part, Ocean is predictable. It all glitters, 
but some songs are fool’s gold. Tracks like “Pictures” and 
“Boots” merely take up space while “You Can Do You” 
actually does some damage. Still, other songs dig deeper 
than usual. The title track “Ocean,” a piano ballad, finds 
Scott vulnerable, begging an emotionally-distant lover 
to open up. Peeling back a layer while retaining their 
evergreen sound, Lady Antebellum retains their pop-
country crown by delivering more of the same.

Lady Antebellum delivers more
of the same, but stays at the top

ALBUM REVIEW

KATIE BEEKMAN
Daily Arts Writer

WIKIMEDIA COMMONS

Ocean

Lady Antebellum

BMLG Records

One of the most 
creative groups to 
ever come out of 
the country with 
a rich musical 
history rivaling 
any others, their 
success was brief 
at the time they 
were active, but 
their name has 
seen somewhat of a 
resurgence decades 
later.

