9 Thursday, May 13, 2021 The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com “Ariadne” by Jennifer Saint is, at first, a retelling of the Greek myth of Theseus, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. Saint has not written another tale of men performing great feats of bravery and strength, but a portrait of the lives left devastated in their callous wake. The women that fill these pages are painted with an incisive brush, the result of which is female characters that are full of nuance and complexity rarely afforded to historical women. Saint takes a well-known myth that exalts the exploits of men and draws from it a stunning story of female resilience and solidarity. For those unfamiliar with the myth of Theseus, the basic premise is as follows: Theseus is an Athenian prince and demigod who travels to Crete to slay the minotaur, a monster that dwells in the labyrinth and feasts on live human sacrifices brought from Athens. The princess of Crete, Ariadne, betrays her father to help Theseus on this quest. Theseus, having freed the Athenians from the horror of sacrificing their children, goes on to become the king of Athens and a legendary hero. Even for most of us who know the story, Ariadne fades into obscurity as soon as Theseus is no longer in need of her assistance. Jennifer Saint is determined to change that — to carve a place for women amongst tall tales of men’s heroics and glory. This book does not shy away from explicitly feminist themes. The early lives of the two female protagonists (Ariadne and her younger sister, Phaedra) are entirely defined by the whims of proud, power-hungry men, from their father King Minos to Poseidon himself. They feel themselves to be little more than tools, important only as a means by which to further the ambitions and desires of men. But though they know themselves to be helpless in the face of the world’s demands, they struggle to resign themselves to this fate. As a young woman, Ariadne swears to never go down without a fight, to never be the broken victim she sees in her mother: “I would be Medusa, if it came to it, I resolved. If the gods… came for me to punish a man’s actions, I would… wear that coronet of snakes, and the world would shrink from me instead.” It is this resoluteness, then, that motivates her to help Theseus. She isn’t just lovestruck, as is commonly depicted (though she’s certainly that too) — she’s also desperate to claim her own destiny and to escape from under the crushing thumb of her father. She falls hard and fast, not just for Theseus’s handsomeness and bravery, but for the possibilities he presents to her. And though she is foolish in her trust more than once, as she readily admits in hindsight, she is equally fierce in her loyalty to her fellow women and her love and protection of the vulnerable and suffering. This is her strength, and though she does not wield a club to crush monsters or gallivant through cities parading her godly heritage as Theseus does, it easily rivals Theseus’s power in its own, quiet way. Ariadne develops into a hero in her own right, and in doing so she challenges our assumptions about who and what heroes have to be and want. Phaedra, on the other hand, is stubborn and daring; if she had been born a boy, she would have been the one slaying monsters. She is determined to make her mark on the world and incapable of watching as it passes her by, even while inexorably relegated to the sphere of hospitality and childcare. Just a girl when the story begins, she, too, finds a way to loosen the ropes that bind her to her lowly station of “woman.” But try as they might, and despite their differences, each sister will learn in turn that they can never truly be free of them. “Ariadne” toys with the heart and stomach. Horror, dread and anger — so much anger — are interspersed with relief and joy in a loop that grinds to a halt only in the very last paragraph. Ariadne and Phaedra feel real, even though their life circumstances are so fantastical. They are at once surrounded by gods and magic and torn by the same forces women across the world and throughout time have been burdened with. They know the unsteadiness of finding one’s own two feet and the determination to take fate by the reigns anyway. What the modern blockbuster can learn from ‘Interstellar’ The current state of the moden blockbuster can be a bit tricky to pin down at the moment. Due to the fact that most big-budget projects have been pushed back into the next couple of years, only a handful of blockbusters have been released over the past year or so. But those few releases are still able to key us into where the genre is headed. Almost all were sequels or remakes for existing films, and the reception settled around a consensus of “it’s good to distract from the world, but it could be so much more.” This has been a trend for a while now. Of the thirty most expensive movies ever made, just one is not based on a pre-existing property (though you could say two if you don’t count the Rapunzel fairytale). It is very clear what Hollywood’s money is being pumped into, and from a business perspective it makes sense. If you’re going to spend hundreds of millions of dollars making a film, you want to be sure people want to see it, and one of the easiest ways to do that is by basing it off of something that already exists and people enjoy. It’s worked out well so far for the studios, as only about three of the films could really be considered failures (all by Disney who has more than made up the profits). They don’t really care that the reception among critics and audiences ranges from “that was bad” to “that was surprisingly good.” As long as the money keeps rolling in, they’ll keep putting most of their eggs in safe baskets. Not to respark the Scorsese vs. Marvel debate, but his criticisms are relevant to discussions about the medium of film as an art form. Most of the money in the film industry isn’t currently going into art, it’s going into products. Studios aren’t interested in telling meaningful stories or pushing the technical limits of film, they are solely interested in making money. And when you’re solely interested in making money, you’re much less likely to take chances on films that don’t satisfy the largest demographic possible. But original films that take big risks can be very successful. Up until 2019, the two highest grossing films of all time were “Avatar” and “Titanic”, two original films that pushed the boundaries of what was possible with film technology at the time. Sure, the hit rate might not be as high, and the return isn’t always going to be as much as an Avengers film, but if invested in and marketed well, these riskier films can be very successful commercially and critically. Unfortunately, at the moment, these films and potential filmmakers aren’t being given the chance. Apart from James Cameron — who directed the aforementioned highest grossing films of all time, and who doesn’t appear to be working on any non-Avatar sequels in the foreseeable future — there’s really only one filmmaker who can get risky, original, big-budget films made: Christopher Nolan. Whether he can still do that after the pandemic-induced failure of his latest release “Tenet” is to be determined, but his track record suggests that the big-budget features that Hollywood doesn’t want to make can be extremely successful at the box office, as well as thought-provoking pieces of art. After the success of his Dark Knight Trilogy, based on the characters from Batman comics and previous movies, Nolan was given a blank check to make whatever he wished. The first was “Inception”, a heist film that dealt with ideas of dream states and alternate realities. It was a smash at the box office, and it even found itself among that year’s Oscar nominees for Best Picture, indicating that despite its large budget it was able to garner a sense of prestige not typically associated with bigger, blockbuster features. “Inception” is a fantastic film, but it probably falls a bit more on the side of “The Avengers” than “Citizen Kane.” That’s not a bad thing necessarily, and was probably part of the reason it was so successful, but despite all of the interesting things Nolan and his crew do with structure and visual effects, it still lacks the emotional resonance of something that Martin Scorsese might describe as “cinema.” MITCHEL GREEN Daily Arts Writer “Ariadne”: The woman left behind BRENNA GOSS Daily Arts Contributor Courtesy of Jennifer Saint Design by Jessica Chiu Read more at michigandaily.com Read more at michigandaily.com ARTS