Arts
Wednesday, November 4, 2020 — 11
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
When I describe myself as being
“extremely online” to my friends,
they usually agree — they too
love memes and spend hours on
Twitter.
Trying to clarify what I mean
gets messy. It usually turns into
some form of me reciting my own
version of Bane’s quote from “The
Dark Knight Rises”: “You merely
adopted the internet; I was born in
it, molded by it.”
If I was molded by the internet,
“It’s foolish to run the risk of
going mad for vanity’s sake,” says
former Kentucky chess champion
Harry Beltik (Harry Melling,
“The Devil All The Time”) in
director Scott Frank’s riveting
new drama “The Queen’s Gambit.”
This quote hints at the price one
pays on the journey to be the best
and the dangers of the reckless
hyperfixation required of all
those worthy of the title “genius.”
No one seems more familiar with
the costs than Elizabeth “Beth”
Harmon (Anya Taylor-Joy, “The
Witch”), an orphan-turned-child-
chess-prodigy during the height
of the Cold War.
In a captivating performance,
Anya Taylor-Joy captures the fire
of tunnel-visioned protagonist
Beth, as her trauma from losing
her mother sets her on a cycle of
escapism, filled with substance
abuse and pouring herself into
the only thing she understands:
the game of chess. Beth describes
the chess board not only as a place
that makes sense to her, but as a
place she can dominate.
With the guidance of the
orphanage’s janitor, Mr. Shaibel
(Bill Camp, “The Outsider”),
Beth quickly picks up the game,
beating everyone in her path.
Mr. Shaibel’s support is crucial
to Beth’s development as a chess
player, and for the first of many
times, we see chess and the
camaraderie that comes with
it supporting Beth, giving her
family and community in the face
of loss.
Yet amid her victories, we
are reminded of her worsening
addiction
to
tranquilizers.
Her addiction is momentarily
halted when she is adopted
by the Wheatleys, a typical,
unhappily married 1960s couple,
complete with a husband (Patrick
Kennedy, “Mrs. Wilson”) that
is constantly taking “business
trips” and a housewife (Marielle
Heller, “A Beautiful Day In The
Neighborhood”)
left
to
cope
with her unhappiness through
substance abuse. The series does
a thorough analysis of the way
battling trauma and addiction
go
hand-in-hand,
particularly
when it comes to suffering that
otherwise
goes
unnoticed.
Mrs. Wheatley’s trauma and
subsequent addiction parallels
Beth’s, and as time goes on their
relationship blossoms into one
of mutual understanding and
support that truly functions as
the backbone of the entire series.
While the show has powerful
dramatic elements throughout,
the relationship between Beth
and Mrs. Wheatley is what
secures “The Queen’s Gambit” as
a must-watch. Their sometimes
turbulent,
always
supportive
relationship
encapsulates
love and family between two
imperfect individuals. Beth and
Mrs. Wheatley are flawed, and
at times they act selfishly and
enable each other’s addictions.
They have also gone through a
lot, yet the show reaffirms time
and time again that they are
worthy of love and beyond that,
that their love is a necessity. Their
uniquely liberating relationship
allows them to be themselves in
a world where they otherwise
felt trapped in their pain. Even
in moments where one of them
acts flawed in a way the other
recognizes, they realize that you
can’t force someone to not make
mistakes. While they are a mother
and daughter relationship, the
relationship lacks any semblance
of patronizing behavior. They
want the best for the other person,
but they never assert what they
think is best over the other.
The building of family and
support systems grounds this
show as much as it grounds Beth.
The series questions what it means
to be alone versus supported, and
what Beth can learn from both
of these states of being. As an
orphan, Beth has to build family
from the ground up, and this goes
beyond her relationship with her
adoptive mother. There are so
many moments that remind Beth
she is never truly alone, even
when she is at her most isolated:
Mr. Shaibel lends Beth the money
for her first chess competition;
Beth’s friends check on her during
her battle with addiction; Beth’s
childhood best friend reminds
her that they are family. While
chess is the focal point of the
series, it is obvious that interlaced
between countless suspenseful
matches, the true magic of “The
Queen’s Gambit” lies within the
love surrounding Beth and how
it transforms her, and ultimately
gives her the strength she needs
to save herself.
I can’t emphasize this enough:
You’ve got to see this show.
Daily
Arts
Writer
Sarah
Rahman can be reached at srah@
umich.edu.
Omar Apollo’s new mini-
album explores identity
Did anyone else feel the
need
to
completely
reinvent
themselves during quarantine?
Maybe you were struck with the
urge to dye your hair blue, take
up skateboarding or even try a
hand at baking (during that weird
period in April when everyone
started making sourdough)?
For 23-year-old musician
Omar Apollo, the past few
months in isolation have
meant rewriting an entire
album.
The
Indiana
native,
now
residing
in
Los
Angeles, had high hopes
for a full project release
and tour in the upcoming
year, but, unsurprisingly,
the
pandemic
threw
a
wrench in these plans. But
instead of waiting for the
indeterminate
return
of
live musical performances,
Apollo decided to scrap
much of the material from
his forthcoming album and put
out a project more fitting of the
circumstances. The final product,
Apolonio, is a glossy and confident
mini-album exploring adolescent
struggles in middle America,
sexuality and rising stardom.
Despite the album’s run time
of only 26 minutes, Apolonio
manages to cover considerable
ground in terms of style. On
tracks like “I’m Amazing” and
“Kamikaze,” Apollo plays around
with his familiar laid-back pop
sound, seen previously on past
EPs Friends (2019) and Stereo
(2018). “I’m Amazing” instantly
pops as an opener thanks to
bubbly production from Michael
Uzowuru and Blake Slatkin,
producers
who’ve
collectively
worked with artists like Frank
Ocean, Donald Glover and Gracie
Abrams.
On “Stayback” and “Hey Boy,”
Apollo delivers sultry funk and
R&B, with a seductive feature
from
Colombian
American
songstress Kali Uchis on the latter.
Apollo also digs into his Chicano
roots on the Spanish corrido track
“Dos Uno Nueve (219),” paying
homage to the style of narrative
ballad popular among traditional
Mexican communities. The song
alludes to Apollo’s hometown
area code, recounting instances
of discrimination faced while
growing up in the predominatly-
white suburbs of Hobart, Indiana.
As the child of two immigrants
from Guadalajara, Apollo has
shared in previous interviews
the very real struggles of food
insecurity and poverty he faced
throughout his upbringing. Now,
as he sings on “Dos Uno
Nueve (219),” “we have
plenty to eat.” It’s a tale of
redemption, one in which
Apollo
simultaneously
celebrates his roots and lets
go of the toxicity of the past.
Between
honeyed
vocals
and
groove-
worthy guitar riffs, Apollo
touches on another deeply
personal theme: his much-
speculated-about sexuality.
Though
never
declared
outright on the project,
tracks like “Bi Fren” paint a
picture of stifled small town
romances and heartbreak.
Apollo professes, “I still
like him, I still like him / I used to
drive around your block without
no license,” as if his swirling
thoughts and desires chase him
around the neighborhood in
circles. Apollo tends to keep the
subject of his sexuality close to
the vest in interviews, but he’s
dropped some not-so-subtle hints
on previous works like the 2017
track “Beauty Boy.” He sings
longingly, “I want to say I love
him / I want to say I love him /
You take all my love / I’m afraid I
can’t love no one again.” It seems
that since then, Apollo has broken
out of his shell of discretion,
bringing the topic to the forefront
of the “Stayback” music video
released in early August. Directed
by friend Aidan Cullen, the video
follows Apollo as he navigates a
bustling night out. Throughout
the video, he exchanges furtive
glances with a presumed male
love interest who’s seated at a
table with his girlfriend. The two
steal tense glances from across
the party, until Apollo finally
stumbles
defeatedly
into
an
empty motel room to shelter from
his rejection. As the music fades
away, our mystery man finally
appears in the doorway before the
credits roll. Beneath the bright
visuals and rich bassline, the
“Stayback” video proves Apollo’s
yearning remains unabated, even
if he’s grown more comfortable
expressing his identity to the world.
In many ways, Apollo has
graduated from his days of DIY
bedroom pop. Not only does
Apolonio stand as his most genre-
bending work to date, but it marks
a clear transition from energetic
ammatuer
to
increasingly
established
musician.
While
Apollo’s
previous
EPs
were
devoid of any features, Apolonio
pulls the collaborative efforts
of artists like Albert Hammond
Jr. of The Strokes, who provides
guitar
and
songwriting
on
the track “Useless,” and rising
Australian
singer-songwriter
Ruel, who lends his smooth vocals
on “Want U Around.” Apollo
himself has blossomed vocally
since his last project, perfecting
the trademark falsetto that gives
his music its irresistible charm
à la Prince. Apolonio may be
compact in structure, but it’s a
testament to artistic growth and
experimentation.
The album isn’t a complete
departure from the glittering pop
of Apollo’s past, but it’s certainly
his most dynamic project yet.
There’s a shift in narrative on
Apolonio, and the artist no longer
rests on the laurels of charming
and
catchy
tunes.
Instead,
we see a vulnerable Apollo,
who’s managed to both mature
musically and maintain the same
vibrancy that keeps his fans
coming back.
Look out for Apollo’s recorded
performance
and
concert
documentary from Paisley Park
on Oct. 27.
Daily Arts Contributor Nora
Lewis can be reached at noralew@
umich.edu.
NORA LEWIS
For The Daily
WARNER RECORDS LABEL
Booker nominee ‘Burnt
Sugar’: an untamed debut
The words in Avni Doshi’s
“Burnt Sugar” hit you like a
bullet. Doshi doesn’t mind
that they come with a burden.
“It’s easy to unravel when no
one is watching,” she writes
within ten pages of the novel.
It is, I find myself thinking.
In fact, it would be so easy to
unravel right now.
Born in New Jersey to
Indian immigrants, Doshi was
an art critic and curator before
turning to fiction. “Burnt
Sugar,” Doshi’s debut novel,
has been selected for the 2020
Booker
Prize
shortlist.
The story revolves around
an aging mother, Tara,
and
her
middle-aged
daughter,
Antara,
who
live in Pune, India. Antara
is a struggling artist who
can barely take care of
herself, but finds herself
caring for her mother
instead.
Each
chapter
reveals another layer in
a
tumultuous
mother-
daughter
relationship
that is grounded in hate
but forced to evolve into
something
resembling
love.
The
narrative
is
set in Pune, India, and
Doshi’s ties to the country
are deeply embedded into
the plot — “Burnt Sugar” was
published in India as “Girl in
White Cotton.”
“Burnt Sugar” is a richly
layered story that shows us
how tangled and performative
our lives can be. Despite
juggling the responsibilities
of being an artist, a wife and a
daughter, Antara’s life is filled
with expectations that are
never fulfilled. “I wonder if,
when I’m old and frail and can
see the shape of my end in front
of me, I will still be waiting
for the future to roll in,” she
says. Antara’s relationships
frame how she views herself
— strong and capable some
mornings, ashamed and guilt-
ridden on others. I think we all
feel this same environment-
driven
fluctuation
in
our
personalities,
though
most
days I’m too scared to admit it.
The pillar of “Burnt Sugar,”
and the core of Antara’s
turmoil, is her relationship
with her mother. “She named
me
Antara,
intimacy,
not
because she loved the name
but because she hated herself,”
Antara says. Tara escaped to
an ashram — spiritual healing
retreats in India that are
known to occasionally evolve
into religious cults — and left
ashram leaders to take care of
her daughter. 30 years later,
Antara is caring for a mother
who didn’t do the same for her.
“Being together or apart was
independent
from
wanting
and happiness,” Antara says.
Yet, like many blood ties, Tara
and Antara feel a pull toward
each other despite a desperate
need for escape.
Doshi compels us to believe
that
this
wild
mother-
daughter
relationship
isn’t
as
unusual
as
we
think.
Ultimately, our closest blood-
relationships form many of
our early experiences, and
these make us who we are
today. Antara was humiliated,
body-shamed and ridiculed by
her mother as she grew up. “It
was a warning not to get too
comfortable with myself,” she
says. Years later, Antara feels
this same discontent when
she herself becomes a mother.
“I stare at the girl’s little face
because I don’t know where to
look,” she says in the minutes
after giving birth to her
daughter. The relationships in
“Burnt Sugar” hit too close for
comfort, but their truths are
addictive.
“Burnt Sugar” builds on
these character relationships
to expose the ugliness of
the human condition. Doshi
writes of our biases and flaws
as if they were key ingredients
in our makeup. The most
notable examples relate to the
Western world’s perception of
India. “The British built some
lovely
buildings,”
Antara’s
mother-in-law exclaims on a
visit to India from America.
Any novice in Indian history
knows how dark this statement
is in light of India’s occupation
by the British. But I think of
the tourist crowds surging
around the Victoria Memorial
this last Christmas, when I
went to visit my grandparents
in Kolkata (the ex-capital of
British India), and realize how
true this rings today. Antara
fields
similar
sentiments
from
her
husband,
Dilip,
who grew up in America. “I
asked him not to idealize the
polite veneer of his childhood
because everyone knows what
Americans are really capable
of,” Antara says.
Doshi uses culture
shock as a way to
expose
aggressions
that we are all guilty of
committing in viewing
another culture. But
India is still embraced
in
the
novel
and
provides
a
vibrant
background
for
the
plot. Doshi writes of
India in a colloquial
way that makes it hard
to
fully
understand
the
novel
if
you’re
not familiar with the
culture,
similar
to
Meghna
Majumdar’s
“A Burning” released
earlier this summer. Digestive
biscuits,
balconies
of
apartments stacked on top
of each other, crevices that
allow you to see into your
neighbors
homes,
breaking
rotis with one hand instead
of two. These cultural details
make beautiful sense to me
as the daughter of Indian
immigrants, but they probably
won’t ring as clear for others.
Thankfully,
that
doesn’t
make “Burnt Sugar” any less
enjoyable.
Regardless of your cultural
background, “Burnt Sugar”
will pulse with an addictive
and thrilling energy. Every
sentence is a treasure to read
and brings you one step closer
to
yourself,
even
though
you didn’t ask for it. This
unsettling yet beautiful novel
is a strong contender to win
the Booker Prize in November
— relish it before it stuns the
world.
Daily Arts Writer Trina
Pal can be reached at trpal@
umich.edu.
TRINA PAL
Daily Arts Writer
NETFLIX
‘Queen’s Gambit’ on the
price you pay to be the best
SARAH RAHMAN
For The Daily
For 23-year-old
musician Omar
Apollo, the past
few months in
isolation have meant
rewriting an entire
album.
“Burnt Sugar” is
a richly layered
story that shows us
how tangled and
performative our
lives can be.