What is a Critic?

       I am sitting in the living room at my dorm with the television mumbling in the background while I take turns to stare at the blank screen of Microsoft Works and then to the decorative notebook page full of questions and topics that I can use to write this final essay. Then I look at my pack of cigarettes with the ash tray beside it and I want desperately to light up one just because it would give me an excuse to procrastinate longer. I snap out of my nicotine addicted trance and focus on the questions that are bickering at me.

       “What have I learned about being a reviewer?” Nothing fast is coming to my mind, but then the oblivious answer pops into my thoughts; it is a hell of a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. Before the semester started, I had to register for Reviewing the Arts because it is a requirement for my major, but I told myself it would not be so bad because I enjoy giving my opinion about anything. However, after the first three assignments I realized that I really could never do this for a career. Sure, reviewers get a chance to go to awesome movies, plays, and concerts but at the end of the day they have so many restrictions that it is hard to voice your true opinion.

       By using the plural word “restrictions,” I just think back to the middle of the semester where one of the guest speakers talked about how she was replaced for that week at the newspaper because of her opinion of the play “Wicked.” When the play company bought advertisement in that newspaper, they also bought the critic‘s review. I always knew that was the way the entertainment industry worked, but to actually see a person brought down by her non-popular opinion really bothered me. It’s actually down right pathetic that newspapers are afraid to lose a little money, but in actuality if they reinvent themselves to have true opinions, they will be respected more and will probably gain many more readers in the process.

       To be honest, that is one of the main reasons why no one really cares about reviews anymore because it seems like every reviewer talks about how great a movie is, especially on the trailers. Seriously, I cannot think of the last time I saw a trailer for a movie that did not involve the following phrases: “Best movie of the summer!” “Best movie of the year!” “Best comedy!” “Best drama of the year!” “Best movie in a decade!” I cannot stand to watch trailers after they debut in theaters anymore because of all that bullshit. If reviewers and their opinions can be bought, the question of “What is the role of the reviewer?” is more tricky to answer.

       Most critics/ reviewers are either seen as harsh or extremely nice and this opinion of them is everywhere. For example, Pixar’s movie “Ratatouille” has a food critic named Anton Ego and throughout the movie he is depicted as the bad, mean guy until the very end of the movie. Ego is emotionally moved by the rat’s food because it reminded him of his mother’s cooking, so he writes in the newspaper an unfair definition of a critic:

“In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations, the new needs friends… Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere.”

       Is all that really true? Is the average piece of junk more meaningful than a critic’s role in judging something meaningless? I do not agree with that first part of Ego’s statement at all. If I have learned anything in the Reviewing the Arts class, it is that the reviewer’s job is to inform their audience. If all their opinions are controlled by their bosses and the media outlet and they continue to give positive reviews over every piece of entertainment, then they cannot reflect the other part of their job, which is to reflect society by what is offered in the entertainment industry.

 

Fantasy Television Shows

       It is October 3, 2007 at eight o’ clock at night and I am watching in total amazement the season premier of “Pushing Daisies” on ABC. I am greeted with colorful images of a bright, yellow flower field with playful clay animation and an unique storyline about Ned the pie maker, who finds out as a child that he has the ability to resurrect the dead by touching them. I am drawn in the story even more when the narrator (Jim Dale) explains the conditions that comes with having this gift; if the dead is conscience for more than one minute, something of similar life value must replace the revived thing or person. I am instantly addicted to the dark humor, the love story between Ned and his childhood sweetheart Charlotte “Chuck” Charles, and the investigations of murder conducted by private detective Emerson Cod.

       I watched “Pushing Daisies” religiously for weeks while quite content with the mystery surrounding Chuck’s life when suddenly there was an advertisement which depicted another fantasy fiction televisio show called “Eli Stone” which was to premier January 31, 2008. I shuddered when I saw in the commercial Stone (Jonny Lee Miller) in bed with his fiancé Taylor Wethersby (Natasha Henstridge) as he jumps out of bed because only he can hear the song “Faith” by George Michael coming from the kitchen, and of course who else would be standing there when Eli runs into the kitchen? That’s right, George Michael.

       In an instant, “Eli Stone” took “Pushing Daisies” from being considered original to being considered ridiculous, because another show of the same genre gave me perspective; although I still watch “Pushing Daisies,” it is no longer as magical as it once was for me. After the Writer’s Strike, “Pushing Daisies” returned for a second season during the Fall programming and once again there was another fantasy fiction television show being advertised to premier in November. This time I just shrugged at the show that had a David Bowie song title “Life On Mars.”

       I find myself feeling annoyed toward shows like “Eli Stone” and “Life On Mars” rather than the intended effect of curiosity. Does my annoyed feeling spawn to a degree from the grudge of ruining my magical outlook? Perhaps, but my reasons are justified in the light that it seems most of the channels on T.V. have a fantasy type show, but ABC always seemed to stick (mostly) with scripted programs that could possibly happen in real life. The idea of ABC falling into this trend has got me interested in their reasons. Does the network have reason to believe that their massive number of viewers want to watch this sort of genre? If they do not think there is a demand for fantasy, then is ABC trying to be innovative in an attempt to cure millions who are addicted to reality television? But most importantly is the question of why are these shows popping up now, and when did these ideas really start?

       To answer my questions, I decided to research the masterminds behind these “unique” shows; the creators. I turn to Google to study the person behind “Pushing Daisies,” and the name Bryan Fuller is everywhere. Among all the websites, Yahoo! UK & Ireland posted an excellent interview with Fuller earlier this year. When asked how he arrived at the idea of a fairy-tale-with-a-twist and where did he get the idea for Pushing Daisies, he answered, “I was working on the show ‘Dead Like Me’ and because I was writing about grim reapers taking lives, the opposite concept popped into my head… as I started writing and exploring the idea, it seemed the subject matter was on the surface a little morbid, so to give it a different spin, I decided to make it more of a happy show, that seemed an interesting direction to go in.”

       Ah! So the idea sprung from the show “Dead Like Me.” That program was on Showtime for two seasons which ran from the years 2003 to 2004. Brian Fuller was only a part of that show for five episodes before leaving because of “creative differences.” Four years may not sound like a long time, but when you have a vision of another program, it must have felt like an eternity. So why did it so long for Fuller to sell the concept of “Pushing Daisies?” Especially since so many networks have fantasy-type shows? Fuller just remarks, “I’d been trying to do this project for years and previously it had proven to be a tough sell, but that was because I was working for a studio which favored more down-the-middle sorts of television shows and this was more out-of-the-box. Once my contract was up there I got a contract with Warner Bros Television and the head of the department was so encouraging when I pitched the original to her.”

       I stupidly forgot all about the networks because they are the ones responsible for agreeing to film and produce a show. Knowing that it was very unlikely to find an interview with any President of a corporation, my research only discovered one short statement from Jeffery R. Schlesinger, President of Warner Bros International Television, in which he said on the Time Warner website, “We are thrilled that ITV has acquired this compelling series with a distinctly different look that will appeal to viewers across a broad spectrum.”

       Noticing that there is not much else to find on the subject of “Pushing Daisies,” I decide to focus on the more (in my opinion) annoying topic of “Eli Stone.” However, my feeling of irritation towards the show turns out to be justified because there are three times as many interviews with George Michael than there is with both of the creators combined. When Greg Berlanti and Marc Guggenheim do appear on the Google search engine, most of the time the words “discuss the making of the Green Lantern” appear immediately after their name, even after I typed “Eli Stone” after their names to shorten the search results.

       A single interview with Marc Guggenheim only briefly answered one of my questions when Chris Arrant on Newsrama.com asked him to describe the series, in which Guggenheim replies, “It’s a drama with fantastical elements. It’s about a young lawyer’s journey to re-examine his life, both professionally and spiritually. We drew a lot of inspiration from comics, television, and movies. There’s that magical realism of ‘Field of Dreams’ and also that tinge of ‘Jerry Maguire’ which deals with someone in their thirties and their midlife crisis.”

       The rest of the interview dealt for a short time with character casting, but then the rest of the discussion between Arrant and Guggenheim involved (you guessed it!) George Michael and the Green Lantern. Both creators never talked about how they came up with the idea of “Eli Stone” or any specific inspirations, in fact all of the interviews they hardly discussed the show at all. It seems that Guggenheim and Berlanti are more proud of themselves for developing the concept of “Eli Stone” than they are of the actual show. To no surprise, I found no commits from the networks other than the controversy of the first episode in which a mother sues a vaccine company for giving her son Autism.

       I had a lot more luck with finding information on the next show on my list with “Life on Mars.” I found out the show that is currently on ABC is actually a remake from the original BBC program. It was broadcasted between January 2006 and April 2007 and won an International Emmy Award and received a British Academy Television Award. Since I did not talk about it earlier, “Life On Mars” is about present-day Detective Chris Skelton who gets into a car accident and goes back in time to the year 1973 in which he works for the same precinct. Throughout the series, Skelton sets his efforts to figure out what has happened to him and how he can get back home.

       I discovered an article online from SFX Magazine that has an interview with Matthew Graham (one of the creators of the original BBC program) back in 2006 before the show premiered. The article is interesting because it states, “The program was originally conceived in 1998, when writers Matthew Graham, Tony Jordon, and Ashley Pharoah were sent to the seaside resort Black Pool by Kudos Film and Television to come up with new program ideas. Originally titled ‘Ford Granada,’ the series was rejected by the BBC network.” Why was it rejected? Giving pretty much the same Fuller did with his rejection, Graham tells the magazine that, “Back then, broadcasters just weren’t comfortable with something like that, something that wasn’t set in the real world and that had a fantasy element to it.”

       But why are broadcasters accepting fantasy television shows now? After all this research I still have not found an answer. Maybe writers, executive producers, directors, and networks really are tired of being involved with “reality” T.V. If that is the case, then the people involved in making these fantasy shows did choose an interesting perspective for change. The perspective I am talking about is the vision that there are still things out there that we cannot understand. “Pushing Daisies” deals with death and “Life On Mars” and “Eli Stone” are both about a different dimension of consciousness.

       Since the concept of “Life On Mars” was developed in the year 1998, I have thought about all the traumatic events that has happened to us within the last ten years and the list is quite a lot; Columbine happened in 1999 and then eight years later Virginia Tech massacre occurred, we had the terrorist attacks on September 11, we are at war in Iraq (again), Hurricane Katrina was a disaster, not to mention the stress of the current economy in which people are constantly loosing their homes because they are also loosing their jobs. We see all this tragedy around us and if we do not eye witness violence, we see it on the news. With all of this hardship, maybe we need to believe that this world is not the only thing out there.

Election 2008

       It is a little after 10 p.m. on November 4, 2008 and me and my four roommates are quite literally swimming through 125,000 people in order to get closer to one of the biggest television screens I have ever personally seen. Quickly walking hand-in-hand though huge groups of people, I am surprised to realize that not a single person had been rude to us. A simple “excuse me” or “sorry” was all that we needed to say and we were greeted with a smile as each group stepped back to let us pass by. People were beautiful again in my eyes. The atmosphere was light and comfortable with an indescribable feeling in the air. The best way I can describe that feeling is that tingling sensation you get when the hair on your arms stands up; it was that kind of electricity.

       As soon as me and my roommates got close to the huge television screen, CNN had just added a state, making the total electoral votes 281. In a flash, CNN had on the screen “Barack Obama: President Elect 2008.” My heart stopped before I could react. Everybody all at once was cheering and joyously yelling to the heavens or at each other. I snapped out of shock and happily cried while my roommates and I started jumping up and down. I looked around and saw even more people dancing. I saw groups of people crying and overheard a woman telling her child with a sobbing voice that, “Everything is going to be alright now. Everything is going to be alright.”

       When Obama came on stage with his family, I have never seen so much unity in my life. There was such a wonderful mixture of beautiful people; babies, teenagers, middle-aged, elderly, punks, hippies, business men, students, and mothers, all cheering and all listening intently to Obama. If Obama said anything to summarize the feeling of unity, not only in the rally but all over the country, it was this: “If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.”

       I can barely write about that night because my thoughts keep going all over the place. There is so much I want to say, but there is literally no way to describe it. Aside from the beauty of the crowd, the whole event was almost dream-like because I had been watching the election coverage very closely for the past twenty-two months, and to find out a couple of weeks before the election that Obama was holding a rally at Grant Park (right across the street from my dorm) was amazing. As cliché as it sounds, I will never forget that night. November 4, 2008 was by far the happiest, most liberating night of my life. Not only because we have our first African American president, but because I saw our first glimpse of hope in such a long time.

 

“Fog of War”

       “Is this what we want for the twenty-first century?” asks former Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara after discussing that the human race needs to think more of the consequences of killing and the conflict that surrounds it. Directed by Errol Morris, “Fog of War” is a documentary not only about McNamara’s important role in both the Cold War and Vietnam, but it is also about the hard lessons that he learned about human nature. Although the film gains insight of McNamara’s point of view and the impact the Vietnam War had on the White House staff (much less the country), there is an impression that McNamara is only telling the part of the story that fits his purpose.

       When Errol Morris tries to ask McNamara questions in order to recount his actions during the Vietnam war, McNamara puts aside the questions and instead offers more advice by stating, “Never answer the question that’s been asked of you, answer the question you wished had been asked of you.” Although this might be good advice, the statement seems to be a way for him to snick around the truth. In fact, the documentary has eleven lessons of war (which were formed after McNamara looked back on his life and determined his mistakes) and the lessons serve as chapters in the film.

       After each statement of the lessons, Morris shows visual commentary that flows with the lessons and the historical story line. The commentary shows war footage and the film also has clips of actual phone conversations between McNamara and John F. Kennedy, and then Lyndon B. Johnson. The war footage and phone conversations are the most direct way in which Morris tries to show the audience the effects of the war and the decisions McNamara had to base upon those effects. The audio and visual aids does help capture the meaning of the documentary, however when Morris tries to visually show the symbolism of the destruction and devastation of the war, it comes across as weak since the destruction is a scene of falling dominoes.

       Out of all the lessons, number nine is the one that is the most attention grabbing because it states, “In order to do good, you may have to engage in evil.” McNamara may not be telling the full truth or his true actions during the Vietnam war, but he is not hiding anything in this lesson because… well, he cannot. Everybody in the country (especially those who lived through the war) knows that McNamara was the Secretary of Defense. He engaged in evil by shaping an unnecessary war, which lead to hundreds of thousands of deaths, and the only good that he did was help stop the war. McNamara explains that, “If we lost the war, we’d be prosecuted as war criminals.” Shortly then after, he makes a interesting point by asking the viewer to think about what is considered immoral in war. Overall, “Fog of War” may focus on McNamara’s career, but I believe this film is also about us as viewers in the sense that we need to think more about war and death. War may be complex, but we can try to understand.

Hall and Langford

       “I believe in hard work as much as I do inspiration,” says Jon Langford while talking to the Reviewing the Arts class at Columbia College Chicago. Along with Richard Hall, they are both guests of Lloyd Sachs and are there to talk about art, music, and their experiences of working as artists.

       Wearing jeans and a jacket, Richard Hall looks, quite frankly, bored at first as he looks at the students while entering the room and then shortly after discusses his life story. Hall was in raised in Oklahoma City but traveled all the way to Kansas to attend college at the Kansas City Art Institute. He now is an instructor at the local Art Institute of Chicago where he teaches painting. When Hall is not teaching, his artistic career is focused on a unique way of painting and drawing, to which Hall’s work has made him be called a “post- imagist.” With a calm, but playful tone he remarks to the category by saying, “I don’t mind, but the imagist might.”

       Indeed, Hall’s work may be vivid in color and have shapes that pop out of the frames, but the art work reminded me more of an abstract nature. He decided to show the students one of his recent works of art called, “Horses Ass and Tail.” Made from oil and wax, there are two distinct shapes that form the outside structure. The “ass” end is light orange and it is plain compared to the tail that has many half circles and other figures within the boundaries. Hall explains that he, “tries to make the tail something more… the ass is going into tail, shapes are coming out and it makes it seem like highways.” The shapes within the tail reminds me of wax flowing onto a table.

       Hall also shows the students an example of his charcoal work. With a white background, very dark circles are etched crazily together. Swooping together as if they were stirred by the wind, the circles are all within a pour pattern on one side of the canvas. Jon Langford says jokingly to Hall that the circles are close to doodles, which seems to be the case since Hall said earlier that he uses either charcoal or crayons for these particular patterns. When I first saw the work, it reminded me of my young cousins coloring on a blank piece of paper. However, for Hall I am sure it is a whole different process since he described the canvases as being as big as five foot by seven foot or sometimes even larger.

       Wearing a dark grey jacket and cargo pants, Jon Langford does not appear to be nervous at all talking to the group of students. Kind of surprising since Langford isn’t a teacher, but then again he is probably used to crowds. Originally from Wales, England, he has been lucky enough to travel all over the place. He talks about music as much as he does his art since his work depicts mostly musicians. A trail of envy goes down my spine as he tells the students that he was in England and he got to see the Sex Pistols during the late 1970s. I would give anything to live during that time period and to be in England during the punk revolution.

       Langford was a drummer in the punk band “The Mekons” while in Wales, though he commented that he now plays the guitar since he came to Chicago in 1992. It was then that he decided to focus more on art. Langford’s art is really different than Hall’s in many ways. While Hall uses the old style of canvases and is an abstract/imagist, Langford uses plywood and depicts picturesque versions of the musicians he respects and has met. The first piece of art he shows to the class is a painting called “Bible Black.” With many shades of blue and green for a background, it portrays Dylan Thomas and Johnny Cash.

       He shows the class the many depictions he has done of Johnny Cash. Some are when Cash was young, then middle-aged, but then when he shows the one where he was older, Langford told a story of how Cash kissed his mother on the lips after talking to her backstage for a long time. He said that he was shocked that Cash did so while June Carter was in the same room. One of the last pictures Langford showed the class was of Joey Ramone and he told another story of how Joey Ramone asked him and a group of his friends if they wanted to join him for a beer. Of course they said yes, who wouldn’t? At the end of the Reviewing the Arts class, Langford and Hall gave advice, saying that artists shouldn’t listen to what they are being told, but at the same time reviews/ advice could be useful.

Amadeus

       “Goodness is nothing in the furnace of art,” says the character of Antonio Salieri and no better quote can summarize the motivation and vengeful actions of Salieri against Mozart in the powerful theater play of “Amadeus.” Directed by Gary Griffin and written by Peter Shaffer, the play demonstrates how anyone with both envy and lust for fame can destroy not only another person, but ultimately themselves.

       The Shakespeare Theater at Chicago’s Navy Pier may not have the biggest or best stage (which is only a few feet above the ground with the audience sitting around three sides), however with all the actors dressed in late eighteenth century attire accompanied by powdered faces and embellishing wigs made me feel as if I was an observer in a European home. The performers are very talented and have the ability to engulf the audience into believing their character by giving all their vigorous energy into the witty remarks and influential speeches.

       The narrative of “Amadeus” is told by Antonio Salieri (Robert Sella) and the first scene portrays him in a chair dressed in a raggedy brown cloak. After the Venticelli leave the stage after saying they do not believe Salieri poisoned Mozart thirty four years ago, Salieri informs the audience that he is on the eve of his death bed and he wants to tell the story of the “relationship” he had with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Salieri also wants to confess his devious behavior towards his competitor. “In other words, did I do it?” Sella smirks before he takes off the cloak (revealing a red velvet jacket and stockings) and the stage is set up for the net scene.

       The Royal Chamberlain and the Emperor of Austria’s approval of Salieri makes him known as the best composer within his time. In the play and also in real life, he served as Court Composer and later he was the Conductor of the Italian Opera. However, Salieri’s work was only liked by the Chamberlain and Emperor because his compositions were familiar and simple. Before Salieri met his rival his Venticelli informed him that Mozart was well known for being a prodigy and the son of Leopold Mozart.

       Played by Robbie Collier Sublett, Mozart is an immature composer, which is expressed perfectly by Sublett who makes fart noises with his mouth throughout the whole production. Mozart shows off his talent by one-upping Salieri’s entrance music by memorizing it as he walks in the door and by adding complicated, but beautiful, notes to the piece. Salieri slyly remarks to the audience afterward, “Was it that early I thought of murder?” Salieri becomes extremely envious of Mozart and he denounces God for giving Mozart the gift.

       The first act is ended with an emotional and strong soliloquy by Salieri, within it he says, “Him You have chosen to be Your sole conduct… So be it! From this time we are enemies, You and I!” By telling lies and by manipulating the Chamberlain and the Emperor, Salieri destroys Mozart little by little. I highly recommend anyone to view this show to grasp the full effect of deceitfulness. “Amadeus” is playing in the Shakespeare Theater at Chicago’s Navy Pier from September 6^th to November 9^th.

I’m Coming Out

       “Gays, lesbians, bisexuals, queers or whatever you want to call us, don’t fit in anywhere just because we don’t fuck the way everybody else does. We don’t love like everybody else does so we are isolated from the rest of the world… In the end, it is up to us to change these perceptions,” stated Nikki Patin in the opening speech of Columbia’s GLBTQIA Coming Out Party. The luncheon was on Friday, October 10, 2008 had a welcoming atmosphere filled with serious and fun discussions among friends both on and off stage.

       The event started at noon and was held in the Conaway Center at 1104 South Wabash. With five chairs a piece around the twenty-four tables spread across the room and with plenty of people standing next to the walls, there are easily 150 people present. Marsha Morris, a staff therapist at the counseling center, explained to me that the, “GLBTQ Community is one of Columbia’s largest and most popular support groups.” Indeed, with so many students participating, how can anyone not feel connected?

       As soon as you enter through the doors, you are warmly greeted as you sign your name on the guest list. One of the tables next to the entrance are covered with broachers and flyers about the up-and-coming queer events sponsored by other groups and businesses. The other table has multi-colored, small gift bags filled with a couple of Durex condoms (along with the instructions), a beaded necklace, and a Common Ground flyer which states the weekly meeting days and times.

       The Conaway Center has almost too much to absorb: the stage is only a couple of feet above the ground with only a few decorations and a microphone. Beside the stage is a very large screen which shows the performers and it was then that I noticed across the room that there was a camera crew recording all the action. The columns had taped against its surface balloons, which were bunched together to form the colors that represent gay pride: purple, blue, green, orange, yellow, and red.

       There is a booth in a corner with a binder of tattoo designs and a woman drawing the designs on students who wish to have one. The buffet is five or six tables long and they are placed together in the shape of an incomplete square. While the food is being served, people start up conversations in line. There is a lot of laughter and many students are hugging each other. When most of the people are done eating and have settled down back to their sits, students are welcomed to the microphone and tell their Coming Out story or to tell the crowd their sexual orientation.

       Most of the stories were about how the individual came out to their family and/or friends. One student talked about how his father is a very religious man who refused to see him, much less talk to him, for three years. They are finally on speaking terms. Another student discussed how her mother simply shrugged her shoulders and jokingly said, “Well, I’ve known for quite a while.” Everyone who decided to go on stage was welcomed and departed by applause, and I overheard one of the students say to his friend that he “finally felt free.”

The Coming Out Party was a very energetic and vibrant event and I highly recommend anyone to attend the meetings. Common Ground meets on Mondays at 1:00 p.m. and Fridays at 2 p.m. at the Underground Café 600 South Michigan Ave.

Rough Beauty

       Poverty has the ability to charm and fascinate anyone who does not have to live in such conditions. In Dave Anderson‘s black and white photography exhibit “Rough Beauty,” he documents specific moments of people living in poor conditions within modern day America. Anderson’s compositions do have impressive qualities such as capturing the tired facial expressions that make you instantly understand the hardship they each face, however the collection is only eye-opening if you have never traveled below the state of Kentucky.

       The photographer shares his view and experience on the art work by stating: “What I quickly realized was that I was fast becoming enamored of this flawed place: its poverty, its psychological isolation, and its fierce — sometimes dueling — sense of individuality and community.” Coming from a small town almost like Vidor, Texas (where the photographs were taken) and seeing the single and family portraits depicted in the gallery, that yes, there is a strong sense of isolation because of their community. David Anderson comments that he first went to the town to look for evidence of the Ku Klux Klan after a rural man suggested Vidor for it had “no black people.” It seems that long before an economic separation occurred, the community decided to that they would be racially divided from the rest of the country. The only real sense of individuality portrayed in the photographs is the feeling that this people must depend on themselves to survive because nobody else is going to help them.

       One photo titled “Ray Wilson” shows a shirtless, older man who has that ultimate presence of survival. He is sitting behind a simple desk, which has on the surface two packs of Marlboro Reds, two cans of Miller High Life, and a few undistinguishable papers. Ray has a buzz cut with faded out tattoos on each arm and his eyes are surrounded by wrinkles. His appearance alone reminds me of any man who served in the military during the Vietnam War and the image is enforced more by the picture of Marilyn Monroe hanging on the wall behind his left side and an Army propaganda poster that says, “Shut the fuck up! Let us do our job!” Ray has a undemanding look on his face in which he is not happy or sad and does not wish to be judged from an outsider.

       Another photograph called “Bobby and His Boys” shows a heavily-bearded, middle-aged man standing beside his two sons. Bobby is dressed in a mechanic’s uniform consisting of dark pants and a buttoned, collared shirt with thick patches in cursive lettering stating his name and the place where he works. Bobby’s sons are both overweight and are wearing blue jeans in which they have become too tall to have on their bodies. The three look as though they were thinking, “Are you done yet?” as Anderson took the picture. There is an admirable closeness between them and also a sense of normalcy even though right behind them are stacks of compressed cars.

       Lastly, the photograph “Preacher’s Family” is worth viewing because of how it stands out among the rest of the collection. “Rough Beauty” shows us image after image of poor conditions were most of the people are wearing raggedy clothes and are dirty from having to stay outside, however that does not appear to be the case in the “Preacher’s Family.” The man has a nice suit on with the jacket thrown over his arm with The Bible clutched in one hand. The preacher has a cell phone clipped to his belt and a slightly pissed-off look on his face. At his side, he has two preteen daughters with one holding a toddler and they are both wearing nice dresses. The family must have just gotten back home because the truck door is open and they are standing in the driveway in front of their home. The preacher’s family is in no way wealthy according to our standards, but compared to the rest of Vidor they must be viewed as royalty.

       The whole exhibit of “Rough Beauty” has many more photographs on display and they are all worth taking the time to unveil the meaning behind each of them. Although the works of art are beautiful, it bothers me that Anderson wanted his audience to perceive poverty in such a way. The mood of the people may not have been “good or bad, happy or sad,” because they do not have any other choice but to simply live in those conditions.

 

Scenes From a Marriage

       Scenes From a Marriage was director Ingmar Bergman’s 1973 six part mini-series with so much ruthless emotion that it has the ability make us question the components of modern day love. Bergman lets the viewer study the finest details of a single relationship in such a way that the intensity between the couple can be the plot of the story. With performances that are so realistic because of their depth facial expressions and their accurate tones of frustration, the audience can identify with Marianne (played by Liv Ullmann) and Johan (Erland Josephson) as the two go through the dissatisfaction of each other and the weariness of heartbreak.

       Within the chapters of Scenes From a Marriage, there is hardly any background noise or enough visuals to keep the mind engaged, which is perfect for the direct manner of the story. In fact, much of the episodes take place within two rooms of Johan and Marianne’s home. It is events in chapter three, called Paula, that the claustrophobic feeling between those walls plays a significant part when a crucial secret is revealed and Marianne’s view of love collapses on her.

       During the first scene of Paula, Johan returns home a day early from a trip and is greeted by Marianne with a warm hug as she offers to make him a sandwich. While the two of them are eating, Marianne casually discusses about being on a diet and how she does not understand why humans deny themselves gratification of food if it makes them happy. She looks upon Johan with eyes full of love like she cannot wait to grow old with him. Johan eats a few bites of his sandwich and stares down at his plate in shame as he discloses to Marianne that he has been having an affair.

       She does not react, as if she is unable to understand what her husband of ten years has just told her. Johan continues by adding that he is leaving for Paris with Paula for four to six months. Marianne finally responds, not with the anticipated anger or resentment, but with an act of desperation. The viewer can understand when she is asking questions about Paula that she not only wants to sympathize with Johan, but also Marianne wants to connect with him once more because she does not want to be abandoned.

       The sense of desperation is sharpened as Marianne pleads with Johan to spend one last night “as hers” in their bed. She tightly holds him after they fail to make love and Marianne finally acknowledges her heavy sorrow by crying against her husband. When Johan leaves the next morning, she finds herself in need to reach out to someone who will listen to what happened. Marianne discovers through her friend that numerous people knew about Johan’s affair and she at last shows anger by yelling through the phone and slamming it down.

        The viewer gets to see the frustration she has towards herself for not even suspecting her husband’s infidelity. With Johan gone and with nobody to speak with, Marianne discovers the meaning of loneliness. Scenes From a Marriage is worth watching because it begs us as a modern society to ask, what does it mean to love?

The Driver

       Walter Hill was both writer and director of the 1978 movie named The Driver. But do not let the simple title fool you into thinking, “Oh, it’s just going to be another corny 70’s picture that couldn’t stand the test of time.” The Driver is filled with action packed scenes that probably inspired a whole generation of abstract film making.

       Strong, violent violin music sets the tone of the atmosphere, which is joined by the squeal of tires as the sports car swerves around the street corner. The camera then focuses on The Driver (played by Ryan O’ Neal) who is calm and observant as a blue and white cop car chases after them with the sirens blasting. The two robbers in the backseat appear to be nervous and are constantly looking through the back window while O’ Neal is calculating his next move to get rid of each cop car that tries to catch him. It is after The Driver makes seven police cars crash and he disposes of the getaway vehicle in a dump yard that the viewer is convinced that O’ Neal’s character is the best in the business.

       Besides the fact there are no actual names in this movie, the abstract aspect shows through more when the detective, played by Bruce Dern, is introduced as the most unpleasant and talkative character in the film. During a police line up, Dern comes off as a dirty cop as he almost threatens The Player while she “could not” properly identify the driver and O’ Neal is free to go. The Detective somehow meets O’ Neal in a dark, secluded bar and tells him that he will catch the “cowboy that has never been caught” before he pours coffee on The Driver’s lap. This is the only time the viewer sees O’ Neal lose his temper and almost punches Dern.

       The Detective may seem as though he admires The Driver, but only because if he catches him, the detective’s reputation becomes higher. Dern is obsessed with the “cowboy desperado” and uses an illegal scheme in which he blackmails three captured burglars by giving them a choice of a 10 year sentence or hire The Driver for a set-up bank robbery. Needless to say, O’ Neal falls for the trap and after a few double-crosses, he is involved in the final car chase where he is trying to stop the man who stole his money from the locker. The Driver’s skills are put to the ultimate test as he drives an old, red pick-up truck against a tiger-stripped 70s sports car.

      Of course O’ Neal was able to crash the sports car by hiding from it in a warehouse and dodging at the car from the entrance way. Only in the movies can a car flip over and crash at high speeds into a hole and the bad guys walk out. The end surprises me because O’ Neal is about to be arrested, but the suitcase has no money inside. In this modern day world where comic book heroes dominate the theaters, movie goers hardly ever see the “bad guy” get away with their actions. Overall, The Driver is a movie worth watching and Hollywood should take it’s ending as an example.