Monday, November 14, 2016
dailycardinal.com
l
arts
3
Finding comfort in prose Aaron Durlauf THE DAILY CARDINAL
Like many, I was shocked by the results of the election last week. The country is incredibly divided and there are various groups of people who face the prospect of policies that threaten their homes, bodily autonomy and safety. Reports of harassment and hate crimes across the country in the past week alone are terrifying. It is unlikely I will be directly affected by most of these policies, but I am fearful for my friends, loved ones and people in general who will be. When I returned home last Wednesday morning, reeling from the previous night’s events, I immediately began looking through my books for something comforting or hopeful. I first thought about William Butler Yeats’ prose “The Second Coming.” The poem’s first stanza reads: “Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.”
This poem speaks with relevance of a world coming unhinged. The “ceremony of innocence” is the current electoral system. People have various views on the Electoral College, the two party system, etc. But whatever your opinion, it’s hard to have confidence in a system that would elect such a regressive, hateful and utterly unqualified person. While “The Second Coming” matched much of what I felt, it was hardly helpful in moving forward. I thought next about William Ernest Henley’s “Invictus,” a piece Nelson Mandela would recite to himself during his darkest moments of his 27 year imprisonment. It reads: “Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.”
The poem is a mantra of resilience, a reminder of our agency. While I think it important, this piece is not the right poem for this time. “Invictus” is about stoicism, but what we must do now is listen to those in pain. To tell someone who lives in an oppressive system that they are the masters of their fate, is to ignore the barriers they face. I don’t know what poem is right for our time, but I know it will be written. History shapes art as much as emotion. What people find helpful in this time will vary. I encourage people to find the right art for them, whatever it may be. I personally return to a single line from Jonathan Safran Foer’s “Everything is Illuminated,” in which a character describes what they did when the Nazis came to their town during World War II: “I saw [him] and he saw me and we stood next to each other because that is what friends do in the presence of evil or love.” I imagine the next four years as the former, but we cannot forget love. We must stand with our friends, listen to their fears and not deny the oppressive darkness around them that we may not always see. And we must also look for the embers of hope in the world and fan them strong. We must act on hope at every level, until our action spreads in a widening gyre centered on friendship, empathy and solidarity.
Old yet memorable releases: ‘Silver Linings Playbook’ By Sam Marz FILM COLUMNIST
The best thing about watching a movie is that it shows us a world different from our own. Whether fantastical or realistic, dramatic or comedic, these films offer a path to escape from our problems and concerns. And, if really good, a film might offer a new life perspective to consider. I can’t say I have a favorite film, but one of the first films that spring to mind when asked is David O. Russell’s “Silver Linings Playbook.” Based on the same-name novel, the film follows Pat Solitano, played by Bradley Cooper, who comes home to live with his parents after staying in a psychiatric hospital while diagnosed with bipolar disorder. He plans to reunite with his exwife Nikki, but that plan soon gets complicated after he meets Tiffany, played by Jennifer Lawrence. We learn that Tiffany has depression and relationship issues. The film tackles multiple themes and ideas with which people can relate, from mental challenges to family ties and love. The film raises questions about how we should respond when faced with setbacks, and how we should embrace new opportunities and second chances. The design of the film is very personal. Russell uses a combination of medium and standard closeups of his characters, giving the film a more intimate feel. His selective focus on the characters’ faces furthers that effect. The narration is primarily Pat’s point of view, connecting viewers to the mental and emotional struggles he endures. This somewhat extends to Tiffany as well, especially toward the end of the film as her relationship with
Pat reaches a crossroad, highlighting both characters’ emotional journeys throughout the film. All the performances in “Silver Linings Playbook” are fantastic. Cooper sells Pat’s emotional peaks and valleys throughout the film, making me feel deeply for that character. Lawrence performs much the same as Tiffany. Balancing heavy subjects with comedy is not easy, but Cooper and Lawrence pull it off seamlessly. Their on-screen chemistry is undeniable, providing one of the focal points of the film. Robert De Niro and Jacki Weaver also add a dynamic as Pat’s parents. As a testament to their work, all four lead actors were nominated at the Oscars, with Lawrence winning her first for Best Actress. Much like its title suggests, “Silver Linings Playbook” is ultimately a story about how we can find the good in the bad, the silver lining behind the cloud. This movie gets me every single time, because its premise is quiet, yet powerful. It isn’t a story that changes the world, but it is a story that changes a personal world—for the better. “Silver Linings Playbook” is one of those rare movies that offers new perspective, to escape into a life where characters can overcome difficult situations. It makes me believe that love is endless and accessible to all of us despite—and perhaps even because of—our flaws. Despite the pain we may feel or troubles we may face, there will always be people there to pick us up when we fall, and this film helps me to remember that.
COURTESY OF CREATIVE COMMONS-WOLF GANG
“Silver Linings Playbook,” released 2012.
COURTESY OF CREATIVE COMMONS
Claire Foy plays the ever-conflicted life of young Queen Elizabeth II.
Netflix throws us back in time in ‘The Crown’ Ben Golden TV COLUMNIST
Netflix released their most ambitious original series yet on Nov. 4 called “The Crown,” a partially fictitious interpretation of the historic rise of Queen Elizabeth II. The series is reportedly the most expensive television show ever produced, with a whopping $130 million budget. After binging the entire first season, it is clear that their efforts paid off tremendously. Every frame is immaculate, filmed on location at an impressive spread of British historical sites, including Buckingham Palace. Each lavish costume is exquisitely crafted for the time period. The score is bold, filled with grandiose and sweltering with emotion. Elegant and moving, “The Crown” ups the ante for a period drama, redefining the scope of what quality television can achieve to be. “The Crown” reveals the hostile and restrictive nature beneath the picturesque British throne. Queen Elizabeth is immediately tested in a growing conflict between love and duty. When her father dies, Elizabeth claims the throne as queen. Her grandmother warns that she will internally struggle between her own heart and that of the crown. She warns that the crown will be the inevitable winner. Tradition becomes more like imprisonment, stripping her individual freedoms and self-morals as her identity fades when she inherits the burdensome, symbolic role. The acting is so strong that you forget you are watching a performance and not reality, achieving a full immersion into the real lives the characters are based on. Elizabeth is embodied by Claire Foy as someone relatably human – a 25-yearold with all the familiar insecurities – who dedicates her life to the crown for the sake of her country, taking every detail of responsibility to heart. Matt Smith plays Elizabeth’s dashing, yet defiant husband Prince Phillip, a very different character than his “Doctor Who” persona. Prime Minister Winston Churchill’s iconically quirky character is provided a skillfully textured portrayal by John Lithgow. Elizabeth’s envious and wistful sister, Princess Margaret, is played charismatically by Vanessa Kirby. Foy’s Elizabeth is a quiet, yet resilient feministic figure. She faces the discrimination of a sexist society in the 1950s, pushing against the glass ceiling despite her status as queen. When asked what her new name will be upon coronation, she insists on retaining Elizabeth and her maiden name Windsor rather than her husband’s last name.
Phillip struggles adjusting to his new role as his wife’s support. He is forced to place his own life on the backburner while under Elizabeth’s shadow, much like a woman’s usual marital position at the time. He becomes fed up with the frivolities, nonsensical traditions and conformities in which the royal family is bound, creating a marital friction that threatens to collapse the carefully crafted public illusion. Phillip finds himself kneeling to his wife during her coronation after arguing about it prior to the ceremony. This moment manifests the idea that although he is Elizabeth’s equal in marriage, he is still subservient to the Queen and the Crown. This subservience is most heavily laded on Elizabeth, her entire existence completely dedicated to the impossible task of upholding this flawless ideal. She must eliminate her individuality and strip herself of free will. The role as queen is passive and silent, preserving the church’s laws without any hint of deviation. This understanding led Elizabeth to disappointing those she loves in order to do what is decided as best for the country. A photographer’s words during a portrait scene accurately captures the new Elizabeth we come to know: “Not moving. Not breathing. Our very own goddess.” Her expectations expel any risk of faults and she is officially presented as a smiling and composed reminder that the British Parliament is sound. This imprisonment in throne emblematically causes her body to lash out, resulting in doctor treatment for a facial muscle spasm from smiling too much during public appearances. Like one of the welltempered horses Elizabeth breeds for racing, she herself is a pedigree of the English Crown, raised and poised to consistently perform, not as a human, but as a decorative emblem serving the public. “The Crown” takes Elizabeth’s life to a deeply personal level without forcing melodramatic narrative. Despite it conveying a topic that would seem dry or stuffy, the series manages to not only churn out one compelling episode after the next, but also bring a relevancy that resonates with many of our societal issues today. The series investigates separation between church and state, morals versus obeying authority and highlights an unexpected example of a feminist icon. Watching liberation leak through the cemented bounds of ancestral tradition is empowering. Embedded within the exquisitely lush context of “The Crown,” experiencing this series is all the more enthralling.