I remember staring blankly at 
the ceiling and contemplating my 
emotions before falling asleep in 
middle school. Falling in love for 
the first time was overwhelming, 
especially with five popstars. As 
the months went by and my love 
grew stronger, my posters began 
to creep up my walls, mysteri-
ously making their way into my 
line of vision. Eventually my ceil-
ing was covered in One Direction 
posters. And I’m not ashamed one 
bit.
Harry Styles has taken me on 
quite a ride since the days when 
I would fall asleep looking into 
his eyes on a Seventeen magazine 
poster. It feels like I’ve been on the 
sideline of his life for nine years, 
cheering him on at every phase. 
From his blazer-wearing days of 
2012 to his Vogue-modeling days 
of 2020, he has never failed to get 
my applause. If I could recall all 
the times that my jaw dropped as 
new developments demonstrated 
his genuine passion for art and 
utter self-assurance, we would 
be here all day. So I won’t do that. 
What I will do, though, is bring to 
light the hidden qualities and tal-
ents Styles has to offer. And it goes 
way beyond his luscious locks and 
pop star charm. 
Starting off on the British 
TV series “The X Factor,” Styles 
originally had goals of becoming 
a solo artist until Simon Cowell 
decided to group him with four 
other singers, forming One Direc-
tion. Styles became a fan-favorite 
from the start. One Direction fans 
(a.k.a. Directioners) fell in love 
with his authenticity. He express-
es his emotions. He’s not afraid 
to cry on camera. He doesn’t play 
the 
womanizer-cool-guy 
role 
everyone else created for him.
In a documentary following 
the band through their days on 
“The X Factor,” Styles speaks out 
on not being able to handle hate 
comments directed towards him 
on Twitter. His lips tremble and 
his eyes water as he admits, “I can 
take criticism, but if it’s just like 
a ‘I don’t like you,’ then I want to 
know why people don’t like me.”
Styles never really fit the cook-
ie-cutter role he was expected 
to fulfill while in One Direction, 
and he didn’t always have the 
self-confidence he has today. And 
his fans could tell. He was always 
bursting out the seams with more 
to offer, suffocating from the 
confines of boyband-hood. From 
management to stylists to con-
tracts, Styles was being molded 
into a lesser (but still genuine) 
version of himself.
When One Direction broke up 
in 2015, my heart broke into five 
separate pieces. Not to be dramat-
ic, but it felt like the posters that 
tattooed my walls were mock-
ing me. The critics were right. 
They were just a stupid boyband. 
Bound to break up and fail as solo 
artists. 
But this was only the begin-
ning of Styles. The bubble that 
once confined him was popped. 
And Directioners awaited with 
hope for the star’s debut album 
as they recovered from the sharp 
blow. 
His self-titled debut album 
shocked the fandom with bal-
lads like “Sign of the Times” and 
rock hits like “Kiwi.” He went 
from lyrics like “Baby, you light 
up my world like nobody else” to 
“I’m having your baby, it’s none of 
your business.” We saw the side 
of Styles that was hidden from us, 
shaded by the looming presence 
of One Direction’s management. 
We didn’t know what was hiding 
in the dark. 
Styles’s range has become 
apparent in other ways, too. All 
the emotions he once had to hide 
were expressed in “Dunkirk,” a 
2017 film where he played a sol-
dier in battle. With no prior act-
ing experience besides a quick 
performance with One Direction 
on “iCarly” in 2012, fans were 
worried. We couldn’t bear to see 
Styles cry again.
But 
he 
didn’t 
disappoint. 
Reviewers mentioned his “sur-
prising amount of grit and 
pathos,” which made him “sim-
ply magnetic.” When everyone 
was doubting him, tagging his 
new career path as a rebound, he 
performed. He showed his range. 

He’s not a singer or a songwriter 
or an actor. He is an artist. 
He shows this again and again. 
His three-time Grammy-nom-
inated album Fine Line came out 
in 2019. It’s about “having sex 
and feeling sad,” as Styles said 
himself. He touched on topics he 
couldn’t dare confront while in 
One Direction, calling himself an 
“arrogant son of a bitch who can’t 
admit when he’s sorry.” Styles 
shows us vulnerability, honesty 
and a new style of music in Fine 
Line. 
And while covering a range of 
different songs, from “Juice” by 
Lizzo to “The Chain” by Fleet-
wood Mac, Styles again shows his 
genuine love for music. And when 
you really love something, you 
love all of it. That’s where range 
stems from: the absolute urge to 
cover all aspects of your interest 
at all costs using whatever oppor-
tunities you can get your hands 
on. Styles covers it all. 
And he doesn’t just do it for 
enjoyment. Styles acknowledges 
his platform. He knows his reach, 
and he doesn’t let it go to waste. 
In his unreleased song “Medi-
cine” that he performed on tour, 
he sings, “The boys and the girls 
are here. I mess around with him. 
And I’m okay with it.” 
At this moment, the self-con-
scious and insecure 18-year-old 
ripped off his tight-fitting blazer 
and exposed his inner core. Styles 
has been an ally of the LGBTQ+ 
community since his boy band 
days, but he’s become increas-
ingly involved in the fight against 
gender norms and stereotypes as 
of late. 
In December 2020, Styles 
became the first man to appear 
solo on the cover of Vogue. And 
he did it in a ballgown. He broke 
expectations in the best way pos-
sible and spoke up when Candace 
Owens, American author and 
political commentator, tweeted, 
“Bring back manly men”, regard-
ing Styles’s cover. Styles spoke 
about the art of fashion and the 
blurring of lines between what 
is considered male and female 
clothing. He understands that art 
is about making a statement and 
does so with grace. 
In his latest “Treat People 
With Kindness” music video, 
Styles and Phoebe Waller-Bridge 
(“Fleabag”) 
co-star, 
wearing 
almost identical outfits while 
Styles does the more traditional 
“female” dance moves like dips 
and spins. And once again, he 
performs not just as an actor or a 
singer or a dancer, but as an artist, 
making a statement regarding the 
blurring of gender lines and just 
treating people kindly. 
But it doesn’t end there. In 
the upcoming film “Don’t Worry 
Darling”, Styles has been cast 
as the male lead. The film takes 
place in the 1950s and follows an 
unhappy housewife as she starts 
to question her sanity. Styles 
plays her manipulative and con-
trolling husband, which is the 
exact opposite of what he stands 
for. After reading a draft of the 
script, I can’t imagine him say-
ing the lines he’s scripted for, but 
that’s what makes it so exciting. 
“Don’t Worry Darling” is just 
another way for Styles, as an art-
ist, to make more of a statement 
regarding the abandonment of 
stereotypes and the push towards 
gender equality. 
If Styles succeeds, as he’s done 
time and time again, this role 
will only add another layer to 
his already-versatile self, illumi-
nating the inner workings of his 
mind that allow him to possess 
another personality so far off 
from his own. And I’m dying to 
see how he does it. 
Range is about more than a 
singer-songwriter’s 
variety 
of 
styles or an actor’s type of role. 
When it comes to art, range is 
about expression. Being able to 
express what matters most to you 
in a number of different ways, 
whether it be through music style 
or acting or fashion, is what estab-
lishes range. Styles continues to 
surprise us with his undeniable 
creativity and authenticity. 
If you’re still looking at Styles 
through a narrow lens that only 
captures his boyband days, I rec-
ommend taking a step back. You’ll 
come to find a well-rounded artist 
capable of making a statement in 
the most graceful and creative of 
ways.

Sometimes I wish I had gotten 
the 
gay 
college 
experience 
I 
thought 
I 
would 
have 
– 
“experimenting” with girls until I 
figured out that, hey, they weren’t 
experiments at all. Instead, I 
figured out I was bisexual while 
sitting in my childhood bedroom 
during the deep quarantine of the 
early pandemic. It would be great 
if I could paint my quarantine as 
a beautiful, introspective time of 
self-reflection 
and 
challenging 
my 
internalized 
compulsory 
heterosexuality. And it was, to 
some extent — but mostly, I have 
to admit, I really just had a lot of 

time on my hands. Time to think 
and ponder and take “Am I Gay?” 
tests. (At some point I realized that 
if you take enough “Am I Gay” tests 
on the internet, it probably means 
you are gay.)
Most people can’t pinpoint the 
exact date they realized their own 
Queerness. As my own realization 
came during the internet-steeped 
pandemic summer of 2020, I 
guess it makes sense that I can. 
Specifically, my Spotify history 
indicates a slew of sapphic love 
songs, all liked on July 6, 2020. 
This includes gay girl classics like 
girl in red, Kehlani, Clairo, dodie 
and King Princess. Looking back, 
I can’t remember having one big 
revelatory moment where I decided 
that yes, I was Queer — but clearly, 

there was a day when I proclaimed 
(to my Spotify, at least) that I was. 
So why were these songs so 
important to my Queer awakening? 
Music is obviously crucial to a lot of 
personal moments and revelations, 
so it’s not like this was special. 
However, given the quarantine, 
they were the only way I could 
connect to a larger community. 
I couldn’t go to Necto or hang 
out at the Residential College. 
I couldn’t go to the Kerrytown 
Markets and buy nothing but 
still soak in the Queer energy of 
other 20-somethings with tote 
bags. I was in my bedroom, the 
same bedroom in which I had 
considered myself “straight” for so 
many years. I felt like an outsider 
in my own life, unsure how to 

reconcile my Queerness with the 
purple walls of my childhood 
sanctuary. 
This was where I listened to Taylor 
Swift and One Direction — staples of 
my tweens, teenagedom and current 
playlists — but in that music, there 
was no space for Queerness. The 
heterosexuality was overwhelming. 
When I played back “Love Story,” 
I remembered believing that — 
although I never dreamed of a big 
white wedding — the person I ended 
up with would unequivocally be 
a man. I never thought to think 
otherwise. Other people were allowed 
to be gay, and I wanted so badly to be 
one of them; but I thought because I 
liked men, there was no other option. 

michigandaily.com — The Michigan Daily

My gay girl playlist starter pack, from the 
new to the nostalgic

6 — Graduation Edition 2023

Read more at MichiganDaily.com

Arts

Design by Reid Graham

Harry Styles, 
boy-bandhood 
and beyond

EMILIA FERRANTE
2022 Senior Arts Editor

LAURA MILLAR
Daily Arts Writer

‘Bad Vegan’ is a shaky retelling of New York’s 
strangest scandal

Everyone seems to love a good 
scam right now. With shows and 
movies like Netflix’s “Inventing 
Anna” and “The Tinder Swindler” 
and Hulu’s “The Dropout,” it seems 
like audiences are desperate to probe 
the minds of con artists and gawk at 
the losses of their victims. Netflix has 
fed into this craving once again with 
the documentary “Bad Vegan: Fame. 
Fraud. Fugitives.” From director 
Chris Smith, who also directed 
Netflix’s “Fyre: The Greatest Party 
That 
Never 
Happened,” 
“Bad 
Vegan” shines the spotlight on 
former famous raw-food chef Sarma 
Melngailis and her fall from grace. 
Sarma Melngailis was conned by 
a man named Anthony Strangis — 
whom she met on Twitter — into 
draining almost two million dollars 
from her restaurant for him. The 
duo eventually married and ended 
up going on the run. Once caught, 
Melngailis was accused of failing 
to pay employees and defrauding 
investors. 
Viewers get the story from all 
angles. The docuseries includes 
interviews with Melngailis’ former 

employees, family and close friends, 
as well as an interview with Allen 
Salkin, the Vanity Fair journalist 
who wrote about Melngailis’s story 
back in 2016. The interviews are 
intercut with actual footage shot by 
Melngailis and Strangis, and most 
importantly, an interview with 
Melngailis herself. You would think 
that her interview would be more of 
a “tell-all,” complete with her own 
personal take on the whole ordeal, 
but she maintains a completely 
passive 
expression 
and 
almost 
monotonous 
voice 
throughout. 
Viewers can barely discern an inkling 
of her own emotions throughout the 
interview, which can be chalked up 
to her feeling apprehensive about 
reliving the experience, as she tells 
us outright. But the feeling read as 
almost out-of-body, like Melngailis 
was telling someone else’s story. 
“Bad Vegan” tells a tale that gets 
weirder by the minute. Early on, we 
learn that Melngailis met Strangis 
under an alias he was using — Shane 
Fox. When employees of Melngailis’s 
restaurant, Pure Food & Wine, 
found out his true name and the 
fact that he was a convicted felon, 
they (rightfully) expressed their 
shock. Melngailis’s reaction? Blasé. 
Apparently, Fox/Strangis had told 

her he did work for the CIA and this 
was totally normal. Right, moving 
on. As if the identity situation wasn’t 
already a red flag, viewers are later 
told that Strangis made a number 
of promises to Melngailis about 
a “happily ever after,” including 
making her and her dog immortal. 
What was the price of immortality? 
Almost two million dollars funneled 
from the restaurant directly into 
Strangis’s pockets. Once again, in 
the retelling of her story, Melngailis 
maintains that deadpan expression 
and voice.
Melngailis’s interview is what 
threw the show off-balance. All of 
the interviewees describe her with 
roughly the same words: generous, 
kind, intelligent, etc. Are those the 
elements that led her to care so 
much for a man who sucked the 
money out of her business? Maybe, 
but Melngailis’s interview definitely 
does not allude to that. By the end 
of the far-too-long four-hour ordeal, 
I actually found myself getting 
frustrated with her. I was pleading 
with her, “Just give me something, 
anything to make me understand 
how you put up with this guy.” The 
result of all the interviews is a mixed 
bag of emotions — you genuinely 
have no idea what to feel, besides 

impatience. 
One of the few strong points of 
“Bad Vegan” is the coverage of the 
media debacle after Melngailis and 
Strangis were caught. Until Salkin’s 
Vanity Fair piece, Melngailis was 
being slandered for being a fraud and 
interestingly, being a “bad vegan.” 
Police tracked the pair’s location to 
Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, via an order 
for a Domino’s pizza and chicken 
wings that was sent to the hotel. Cries 
of hypocrisy went up everywhere as 
the finger was pointed at Melngailis, 
the vegan chef running a raw-food 
restaurant. After actually watching 
“Bad Vegan” and hearing about what 
really went down (the Domino’s was 
actually ordered for Strangis), you 
finally feel sympathy for Melngailis 
as the show splashes the smearing 
headlines across the screen. 
“Bad Vegan” is a rollercoaster. It 
goes from normal to odd to straight-
up outlandish, and you can’t even 
fully rely on the main character for 
a proper explanation. For better or 
for worse, this show does not tell you 
what to feel until its final minutes. 
After the string of these new releases, 
though, I can say one thing for 
certain: I’m officially done with scam 
shows.

SWARA RAMASWAMY
Daily Arts Writer

“Annette” tries to throw the 
audience off from the outset. Over 
a blank screen, a voice tells the 
audience that noise of any kind, 
including breathing, will not be 
tolerated during the film. This 
transitions right into the opening 
number, asking the audience for 
permission to start the film while 
introducing the main characters. It’s 
an opening that will either have you 
immediately hooked or rolling your 
eyes and looking for the exits. 
The film is not afraid to take bold 
risks, and once it has you in its grasp, 
it refuses to let go.
“Annette” follows the marriage of 
comedian Henry McHenry (Adam 
Driver, “Marriage Story”) and opera 
singer Ann Defrasnoux (Marion 

Cotillard, 
“Inception”). 
These 
professions perfectly convey the 
film’s tone with the combination of 
the sadistic, dark comedy of a shock 
comedian and the big, emotional 
melodrama of an opera singer. The 
couple has a child named Annette, 
portrayed by a wooden puppet, the 
center of tension between Henry 
and Ann. By making Annette a 
puppet, 
the 
filmmakers 
avoid 
gambling on the performance of 
a child actor, while enhancing the 
themes of Henry’s control in all 
domains of life.
Director Leos Carax (“Holy 
Motors”) bombards the audience 
with unexpected twists, yet almost 
none of them would work without 
the completely committed central 
performances 
of 
Driver 
and 
Cotillard. It doesn’t matter what 
kind of ridiculous nonsense Carax 
asks them to do in a given scene; 

both actors are fully on board and 
give everything they have to get 
earn the emotional investment of 
viewers.
Driver delivers one of the best 
performances 
of 
his 
already 
illustrious career as he compels you 
to be on the side of a truly despicable 
man. 
The 
physicality 
of 
his 
performance, aided by his tall frame 
and full use of his remarkable skill 
as an actor, captivates the audience. 
During the scenes where Henry 
is performing stand-up, Driver 
expertly navigates the conflict with 
both the crowds at his shows and 
himself, and he perfectly portrays 
the character losing his mind.
As expected from a film that 
swings for the fences almost every 
second of its 141-minute runtime, 
some choices strike out. The songs 
are surprisingly weak for a musical, 
and while they work fine within the 

context of the film, they aren’t going 
to be stuck in your head for weeks 
after hearing them.
The film also drags on a bit in the 
second half. A new plot development 
at the midpoint means it takes time 
to ramp up a new conflict, killing 
the film’s existing momentum. Once 
the new tension between Henry and 
his daughter is developed, “Annette” 
once 
again 
becomes 
entirely 
engrossing, but the tedium may lose 
viewers who weren’t totally sold by 
the film from the start.
“Annette” has been a polarizing 
film since it opened the Cannes Film 
Festival back in July, which isn’t 
unexpected given the outlandish 
choices the film makes. However, 
these are exactly the kinds of films 
that make the medium so wonderful. 

‘Annette’ is an audacious, chaotic, 
mesmerizing tragedy

SWARA RAMASWAMY
Daily Arts Writer

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