100%

Scanned image of the page. Keyboard directions: use + to zoom in, - to zoom out, arrow keys to pan inside the viewer.

Page Options

Download this Issue

Share

Something wrong?

Something wrong with this page? Report problem.

Rights / Permissions

This collection, digitized in collaboration with the Michigan Daily and the Board for Student Publications, contains materials that are protected by copyright law. Access to these materials is provided for non-profit educational and research purposes. If you use an item from this collection, it is your responsibility to consider the work's copyright status and obtain any required permission.

December 03, 2019 - Image 6

Resource type:
Text
Publication:
The Michigan Daily

Disclaimer: Computer generated plain text may have errors. Read more about this.

6 — Tuesday, December 3, 2019
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

Martin Scoresese is no stranger to messy,
twisted characters. He has a tendency to paint
these characters with a sharp, but humanizing
brush. This quality is what gives his films like
“Goodfellas” and “Taxi Driver” (among others)
their uniquely hazy morality. His stories are
compelling not despite their darkness, but because
of it.
The director’s latest release, “The Irishman” is
no exception. The film offers both the delectably
gritty genre work that Scorsese’s audience has
come to expect as well as a tender self-reflection
on the filmmaker’s own oeuvre. Following the rise
of the Buffalino crime family and the Teamsters
Union, the story depicts the ambitions, flaws and
humanity of three
gangsters
with
genuine heart.
Frank
Sheeran,
played
by
Robert
De Niro (“Heat”), is
the story’s primary
narrator, recounting
his
experience
joining
the
mafia
as
a
hitman.
De
Niro’s performance
involves some of his most impressive acting in
years, bringing back the rageful poise of his other
collaborations with Scorsese along with a softness
that answers the simple question, what happens to
a gangster if they make it to old age? That answer
is not a pleasant one; in fact, when the glory days of
his role in the mafia are over, it is painful to watch
him past his prime. A similar point can be made
about De Niro himself, and maybe that’s what
makes the film as touching as it is.
At Sheeran’s side are mob boss Russel Buffalino
(Joe Pesci, “My Cousin Vinny”) and President of
the Teamsters Union Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino,
“Ocean’s Thirteen”). The very experience of

watching these three legendary actors interact
is electrifying — their criminal endeavors made
me momentarily feel what it was like to watch
the crime movies with fresh eyes. But to call “The
Irishman” a mere best hits anthology of Scorsese’s
career would be a severe underappreciation of its
power.
Sheeran, Buffalino and Hoffa’s stories are laden
with stylistic and narrative Scorsese tropes, but
they explore new territory too. In particular, I
found the script’s entanglement with national
politics particularly insightful. The Buffalino
family’s friendship with the Kennedys sheds light
on a magnitude of political corruption that is
present in other crime movies, but rarely so directly
impactful on actual history.
Scorsese leaves no detail of this story out,
amounting in a runtime of three hours and 29
minutes. Yet, the film does not drag for the most
part.
Excepting
the
penultimate
hour, a close look
at
Jimmy
Hoffa’s
attempts to return
to
power,
“The
Irishman”
avoids
feeling sluggish. If
anything, I’m glad
Scorsese decided to
pack the story with
everything he could.
But Scorsese knows that the actors at the
film’s center now lack the vitality of their
digitally de-aged counterparts possessed in the
mob’s heyday. And he uses this to his advantage,
challenging the audience to imagine their lives
without youth or momentum or glory. In this
way, “The Irishman” becomes a story about
falling from one’s peak. The nature of a high
point is that it is momentary, subject to the
remorseless advance of time. What Scorsese
ultimately achieves with “The Irishman” is
nearly magical: It is a sad, even painful thing
to watch these criminals fade, much like it is to
watch Scorsese himself grow old.

‘Irishman’ is a moving trip

ANISH TAMHANEY
Daily Arts Writer

This morning I Googled the following:

Cuffing season duration

Timothée Chalamet Jewish

When is retrograde over

Can you die from lack of attention

It turns out that cuffing season is until March, Timmy
is Jewish, Mercury is technically out of retrograde but
its effects will linger until Saturday and no, you can’t die
from a lack of attention. I think our morning Googlings
say a lot about us. For your reading pleasure, dear reader,
here are some recent Googlings from yours truly.

Nick Jonas nipples

Larry David young

Bernie Sanders young

Dog swimming

Dog with human teeth

Dog with human eyes

Dog with human nose

Human with dog nose

How to ask your crush out

How to ask your crush out in a way that’s cool and chill
and not weird

How to ask your crush out in a way that’s cool and chill
and not weird and also not awkward

How to buy vibrator on parents credit card without
them knowing

How to pronounce appreciate

How British pronounce appreciate

Prince Charles young

Charles and Camilla

Charles and Diana

Diana and Dodi Al-Fayed

Was Lady Di murdered by the queen

Stop biting nails

Song that goes duhduh duh duh duhduh

Jobs Chicago

Jobs New York

Jobs Los Angeles

Jobs anywhere

What do I do after graduation

How to poach an egg

How to write a comedy column

Why is Michigan a basketball school

How to make turtlenecks look cool for four days

Is it safe to drink an open bottle of vodka you found
on the street

Am I dehydrated or do I need more coffee

How much coffee is too much coffee

Can you die from too much coffee

How often should you wash your sheets

No but really, can you die from lack of attention

Becky Portman: Is searching

HUMOR COLUMN

BECKY PORTMAN
Daily Humor Columnist

NETFLIX

FILM REVIEW

BOOK REVIEW

Even if you don’t know her name, it’s likely
you’ve seen Debbie Harry’s face. As the
frontwoman of the groundbreaking sometimes-
pop, sometimes-rock group Blondie, Harry’s
wide-set eyes and shock of bleach-blonde hair are
unmistakable, a necessary and irreplaceable part
of
music
history.
Blondie
was
the
band, but it was
also
a
character
for Harry to play,
an
ultra-feminine
woman in the macho
rock scene of New
York in the ’70s,
consistently proving
her
place
in
the
industry over and
over again. In her own words, Harry’s “Blondie
character was an inflatable doll but with a dark,
provocative, aggressive side.”
Her image was appropriated by friend, Andy
Warhol, in his iconic Polaroid series, in his
eerie computer-generated pop art, in addition
to photographs which have been taken of her by
every major photographer. Harry is an icon in
the truest sense of the word — just as Marilyn
Monroe’s blonde curls represent a specific time
and place in the past, so do Harry’s, heralding
onlookers into a people’s
history of art and rebellion
in the greatest city on the
planet.
“Coincidence
came
calling for me big-time
in the early seventies,”
Harry writes in an early
chapter of the memoir.
“Coincidence: it’s supposed
to
mean
just
these
random
disconnected
events
that
concur
or
collide. But coincidence
is not that at all. It’s the
stuff that’s meant to be.”
This
perception
makes
sense
considering
the
performer’s
history.
Everything
that
made
Debbie Harry the icon
she is today is what made
Blondie so popular, and
most of what happened
in the height of post-punk
glory
seems
to
hinge
on brief moments of interpolation between
one world and the next. In the book, Harry
remembers these flashes of coincidence in
brilliant literary detail, plunging the reader into
the color and fury of her experiences with a sharp

wit and unflinching sense of honesty.
From the first page, in which Harry describes
her biological parents before going into the stories
of her childhood as an adopted daughter of two
humdrum New Jerseyans, one is able to grasp
how she’s processed the somewhat accidental
nature of her life. The musician has a keen eye for
detail and orchestration: Just when she brings up
an anecdote that seems out of place, it suddenly
begins to make sense in the larger framework
of her life — the last
chapter of the book
is all about thumbs in
her life, just because
she wanted to end
on a funny note.
Harry’s own sense
of humor about both
the
happy
times
and the sad times
of her rollercoaster
experience
with
fame is what makes “Face It” a must-read. Sure,
two of her apartments went up in flames, one
of them while she was on tour, but it made for
a fantastic photoshoot in which she sat in burnt
kitchen wearing a full ballgown.
Harry’s clout as a cultural powerhouse could
have carried her through “Face It” on a wave of
crazy stories about shows, cheeky cameos from
her bandmates and thin analyses of her own life.
But Harry doesn’t do this at all. Instead, “Face
It” seems more like a self-interrogating revision
of
her
experiences,
occasionally
punctuated
by the names and stories
that we expect from a rock
star’s memoir.
From
someone
who
has
been
funneling
her
experiences
and
inspirations into music
and art for the last 40
years, it is clear how
easily
self-analysis
comes to Harry, as she
weaves her true history
into a riveting and often
surprising
narrative
of
serendipity and triumph.
Even if you’ve never heard
a Blondie song beyond
“Heart of Glass” (on Wii
Just Dance 2), Harry’s
story is one that deserves
to be read widely. Her
voice and experiences act
as a time capsule of New
York in its prime. The
American reflex to make art, even in the craziest
of times, is most present in people like her. That
thread of passion is hard to miss in Harry’s
retelling of her own story, as it is one that reaches
much farther than just her.

Debbie Harry’s ‘Face It’ is
more than a popstar story

CLARA SCOTT
Senior Arts Editor

The Irishman

Netflix

Face It

Debbie Harry

Dey St. Books

DEY ST. BOOKS

By Robert E. Lee Morris
©2019 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
12/03/19

Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle

Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis

12/03/19

ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:

Release Date: Tuesday, December 3, 2019

ACROSS
1 Desert Storm
missile
5 Jed Clampett
portrayer Buddy
10 Newspaper ad
meas.
14 Greek liqueur
15 Like much snack
food
16 German wheels
17 Optimistic
viewpoint to “look
on”
19 “The Way You
Love Me” singer
Faith
20 Comfort
21 Medieval clubs
22 Vampire played
by Cruise
26 Offhand
comment
29 Breathed out
31 Connects (to)
34 Eastern neighbor
of Tenn.
35 “FBI” actress De
La Garza
37 “Strange Magic”
rock band
38 California’s
Big __
39 Know-it-all
41 UFC sport
42 Psychic’s “gift”
43 “Gesundheit!”
evoker
44 For each unit
45 Emancipate
47 Middle of __:
remote area
50 Restaurant chef’s
workload
52 Came close to
53 Singer Joplin
55 Taste defeat
57 Strong desire
58 Samsung product
64 Any thing, say
65 Bamboo muncher
66 Black stone
67 Pigged out (on),
briefly
68 Fur tycoon
69 Designer Chanel

DOWN
1 Cry noisily
2 Many a stray
4-Down
3 Special forces
weapon
4 Hound

5 Sprawling
property
6 Barbershop
quartet member
7 More
underhanded
8 Flight board abbr.
9 “Bill __ Saves the
World”: science
talk show
10 Arid African
expanse
11 Hothead’s trait
12 Wait in traffic
13 Rock’s Lofgren
18 Get better
21 Southeast Asia’s
__ Peninsula
22 Camera
attachments
23 Reason for
absence
24 Wicked wit
25 Driveway surface
27 Jeremy Irons
film based on
a Christopher
Paolini fantasy
novel
28 Bill of fare
30 One of Santa’s
reindeer
32 “Get Shorty”
novelist __
Leonard

33 Lathered
(up)
36 Late July zodiac
sign
39 City districts
40 Slushy treat
44 “I understand
now!”
46 Ally
48 GM security
system
49 Blubber
51 Point of view

53 Roman queen of
the gods
54 Retired MLB
slugger
56 Word on a dollar
58 Place for TLC
59 Humanities
degs.
60 Ad __ committee
61 Lennon’s love
62 Grand Central
Sta. site
63 Skeleton prefix

Read more at MichiganDaily.com

Back to Top

© 2024 Regents of the University of Michigan