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.

February 11, 2020 - Image 5

Resource type:
Text
Publication:
The Michigan Daily

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

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Tuesday, February 11, 2020 — 5

Anyone
who’s
ever
improvised a piece of music,
character bit or comedy skit
knows it’s mind-over-matter
magic when it works. This
seems to be what gets acclaimed
director Jim Jarmusch onstage
with producer pal Carter Logan
in the formation of SQURL, an
enthusiastic-if-intermittent
two-man act. The two visited
the
Michigan
Theater
last
Tuesday to perform a score
featuring drums, electric guitar
and a range of synth and reverb
devices over ’20s short films by
the surrealist Man Ray.
Jarmusch
was
the
main
draw for most folks. His movies
have captivated U.S. audiences
with their seemingly foreign
glimpses into American life.
His
suave
appearance
and
triangular prism-shaped hair
indicate a young, metropolitan
sensibility, hiding any trace of
his rural Ohio upbringing.
Considering his films and
music, though, it makes sense
that
such
an
upbringing
would
be
used
as
fodder.
“Stranger Than Paradise” is
a
minimalistically-compact
demonstration of our inability
to ever connect to one another.
A 20-something New Yorker,
his friend and an initially
unwelcome
younger
cousin
spend days idly running errands,
watching
TV
and
sharing
thoughts. The cousins warm
to each other in subtle ways as
they commit to breaking from
their daily malaise, but end up
even further apart by film’s end.

This lack of understanding
could also be what draws
Jarmusch
to
Man
Ray’s
surrealist films, which feel
like automatic manifestations
of
his
subconscious
mind.
Newspapers rustling in the
wind,
an
indistinguishable
man tucking a woman into
bed, a closeup of some fibrous
material splitting down the
middle. All these interrupted by
intermittent slides of stream of
consciousness thought: “if the
flowers were in glass,” “a throw
of the dice will never abolish
chance.” Sitting through them
puts you in a trance, unable to
grab onto any one detail over
another until the screen reads
“You are not dreaming” and you
snap out of it.
At the end of the live show,
Jarmusch explained that these
shorts were never scored and
typically supplemented by jazz
tunes of their time. Though both
art forms were experimenting
with improv and chance, he and
Logan saw much more potential
for the films in the powerful
combination
of
analog
and
digital music tech.
Really, though, they saw an
opportunity to have the same
fun Man Ray did in making
his films. With nothing too
literal on the screen, it seems
hard to make mistakes. Logan
explained their process after
the show: one initial watch-
through
to
internalize
a
reaction, and several more with
instruments to establish maps
of where to change keys and so
on.
For the three minutes of
eclectic moving shots of clocks,
nails, and paint splatter that is
“Le Retour a la Raison” (The

Return
to
Reason),
Logan
pounded his bass drum while
adjusting some static-inducing
knob. Jarmusch sent long notes
off his electric guitar into the
ether.
The
slower-burning
“Les
Mystères du Château de Dé”
professed to be about two
Parisians’ visit to a castle in
the countryside. This “castle”
was really just a Le Corbusier-
esque Modern home Man Ray
dubiously labels “prestigious.”
The plot is just a group of
characters playing in the pool
and with various toys they find
throughout. They often roll dice
to decide whether or not to do
something. The effect really
strips the meaning of much
of what bourgeois living was
about.
As this film, the last of the
show and the longest at 27
minutes,
played,
Jarmusch
often turned to face the screen
on
his
guitar.
Completely
absorbed in visuals and sound,
he lunged back from the screen,
openly reacting. “Music is a real
release for me,” he said at the
end of the show.
The
meaning-stripping
done Tuesday night is a theme
in Jarmusch’s body of work.
For the next three Tuesdays,
the Michigan Theater will be
featuring some of his most
acclaimed films: “Down By
Law” on the 11, “Gimme Danger”
on the 18, and “Only Lovers
Left Alive” on the 25. Though
often deadpan and desolate,
these films acknowledge the
difficulty of representing the
multitudes contained within
their characters, and leave an
impression on audiences well
after their reels have run.

Jarmusch collaborates on
live score for short films

COURTESY OF SARA DRIVER

BEN VASSAR
Daily Arts Writer

This review contains spoilers.
You may find that shows
as long-running as “Brooklyn
Nine-Nine” tend to be formulaic,
often forcing their protagonists
to go through radical changes or
obstacles that ultimately force
personal growth onto them.
“Brooklyn Nine-Nine” is no

different, but the season seven
premiere offers a refreshing
twist
compared
to
the
development of the protagonists
during the previous seasons.
In the season six finale
of
“Brooklyn
Nine-Nine,”
Captain Raymond Holt (Andre
Braugher, “Bojack Horseman”)
finds himself demoted from
the rank of officer to beat cop.
Initially, you might find this
shift in power to be less drastic
compared to the incarcerations

of Jake Peralta (Andy Samberg,
“Palm Springs”) and Rosa Diaz
(Stephanie
Beatriz,
“Bob’s
Burgers”) during the season
four finale. Yet the removal of
a father-like figure from his
position of power presents a
window of opportunity: Have
the
other
protagonists
of
“Brooklyn Nine-Nine” changed
and matured enough to handle
the vacuum of power that has
remained constant over the
previous six seasons?

You’ll find that in the
first episode of season seven,
“Manhunter,”
Jake
Peralta
becomes
a
full-fledged,
competent
detective
capable
of leading a manhunt — a vast
improvement compared to his
lazy season one counterpart
who is constantly berated by his
superiors. In stark contrast, Holt
finds himself in a depressive rut
due to his demoted rank.
During the manhunt of an
assassin,
Holt
attempts
to
commandeer his former protégé
Jake’s
investigation,
finding
himself unable to swallow his
own pride and follow the orders
of his former subordinate. Holt’s
subordination leaves him to
follow his intuition, which runs
contrary to Jake’s conclusion
that leads to the arrest of the
accomplice
of
the
murder.
Holt’s
intuition
ultimately
leads to the arrest of the true
assassin alongside the assassin’s
accomplice. Through the arrest,
Holt and Jake both learn that
trusting their respective talents,
skills and intuitions is far more
important than the arbitrary
label given to their relationship
within the hierarchical police
force.
You
hope
that
the
upheaval of Holt’s relationship
to his subordinates might lead to
a positive reflection and change
in his own character.
Yet those hopes are dashed
in the second episode of season
seven, “Captain Kim.” Captain
Kim (Nicole Bilderback, “Staged
Killer”), has been brought in
to replace the former Captain
Holt for the duration of his
year-long
demotion.
The

childish antics of Jake and
Holt, who are convinced that
the benevolent Captain Kim
has ulterior motives, make you
question whether Holt or Jake
have learned anything from the
previous episode. Ultimately,
Captain
Kim
requests
an
immediate
transfer
away
from the 99th Precinct. The
captain’s
responsibility
then
falls on the next highest ranking
commander — Lieutenant Terry
Jeffords (Terry Crews, “John
Henry”).

Terry Jeffords’ arc during
the
events
of
“Manhunter”
and “Captain Kim” provide
a perfect complement to the
front seat antics of Jake and
Holt. In “Manhunter,” Terry’s
insecurities
about
receiving
increased responsibility in the

light of Holt’s demotion is played
to comedic effect — he assumes
that everyone is talking about
his inadequacies behind his
back. Terry ultimately accepts
at the end of “Manhunter” that
his best efforts matter as much
as his leadership, regardless
of whether his efforts are
imperfect.
Yet in “Captain Kim,” Terry’s
run-in with a former convict
who he convicted reveals that he
still has much to learn even as a
leader — namely that of trust and
empathy. Terry’s weaknesses
as a leader are laid bare in the
form of social embarrassment as
Terry fails to hide his suspicion
that the former convict might
poison Terry. Though Terry’s
embarrassment is portrayed in
a humorous light, you wonder
about the writers’ intentions
for the relationship between the
ex-convict and Terry. Are the
writers attempting to underscore
society’s unwavering disdain
toward formerly incarcerated
individuals
attempting
to
integrate
within
society
through humor? You remain
unsure because Terry’s negative
reactions and embarrassment
toward the convict are second-
fiddle to the outlandish antics of
Jake and Holt.
With
the
departure
of
“The Good Place”, “Brooklyn
Nine-Nine” sadly remains the
only Michael Schur written
comedy currently on the air.
However,
the
season
seven
premiere provides the promise
of continued positive character
development for your beloved
characters at the 99th precinct.

‘Nine-Nine’ wraps up with
genuine character growth

Everyone knows a horse girl.
They stash their homework in
colorful horse folders, gallop
their way through recess and
talk about equestrian practice
at every opportunity. It’s such a
stereotype that Urban Dictionary
has twenty six definitions of the
term. However harmless this
teasing may seem, though, “Horse
Girl,” the new film from Jeff
Baena (“The Little Hours”) and
Allison Brie (“Glow”), shows that
one never knows what might lurk
behind those tacky horse T-shirts.
“Horse
Girl”
begins
by
exploring the quirky life of
Sarah, the titular Horse Girl,
played by Brie. She works at a
craft store, where the fantastic
Molly
Shannon
(“Superstar”)
plays her boss. Then Sarah goes
to Zumba class, hangs around a
stable (where she neither works
nor takes lessons) a little too
often and spends her nights alone
watching Purgatory, a cheesy
television
show
somewhere
between
“Criminal
Minds”
and
“Supernatural.”
On
her
birthday, Sarah is pressured by
her roommate, played by Debby
Ryan (“Insatiable”), to go on a
date. The expected Horse Girl
hijinks ensue as Sarah gets drunk,
gallops on the dance floor and
gets a nosebleed, yet somehow
still woos the boy.
However banal all of this may
seem, the fact that Sarah’s favorite
show is called “Purgatory” is an
early hint for what is to come.
Sarah, like many people in
America today, lives on a razor

thin line between innocuous
tedium and deranged chaos. Soon,
this balance begins to fall apart.
Sarah hears voices at night
when nobody is home. She wakes
up in strange places with no
recollection of how she got there.
She becomes certain that people
from her dreams are trying to
tell her something in real life.

Reasons for this are hinted at,
but to say any more would be a
spoiler. As Sarah loses control,
the narrative follows suit, with
comedic tropes falling away to
insane,
terrifying
surreality.
“Horse Girl” has a remarkable
shift from light comedy to head-
spinning
psychological
thrills
that most films wouldn’t be able
to pull off.
It’s a risky move, but it succeeds
because of Brie’s performance.
She is entirely convincing in
every scene and, no matter how
unhinged Sarah becomes, Brie’s
acting keeps the viewer invested.
What at the beginning seemed

quirky and awkward about Sarah
becomes tragic and alarming, and
one increasingly feels guilty for
laughing.
By the end, viewers will likely
have no idea what in “Horse Girl”
was real and what was in Sarah’s
incredibly fractured head. Yet the
film’s chaos has an ever-present
subtext of meaning, pointing
towards how mentally-struggling
people
in
modern
America
are isolated, joked about and
misunderstood, left on their own
to sort through the debilitating
consequences of their conditions.
“Horse Girl” is more than just
another movie making fun of a
current meme. It’s a hilarious,
bizarre,
heart-wrenching
film
that shows how everyday life
can
quickly
fall
apart
and
leave nothing but unanswered
questions.
The movie leaves so much
up for interpretation that most
people will probably find it a waste
of time. Yet for those looking for
something insanely innovative
that also has something to say
about America, there’s nothing
better than “Horse Girl.”

‘Horse Girl’ gallops nimbly
from hilarity to horror

ANDREW WARRICK
Daily Arts Writer

Horse Girl

Netflix

Now Streaming

COMMUNITY CULTURE REVIEW
COMMUNITY CULTURE REVIEW

FILM REVIEW

TV REVIEW
TV REVIEW

NBC

NETFLIX

Sarah, like
many people in
America today,
lives on a razor
thin line between
innocuous tedium
and deranged
chaos

Brooklyn Nine-
Nine

Season 7 Premiere

NBC

Thursday 8:30 p.m. EST

BRENDON CHO
For The Daily

Back to Top

© 2024 Regents of the University of Michigan