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“Pokémon Detective Pikachu” is without a doubt one of the most bizarre ideas for a mainstream, Hollywood family film that I’ve encountered in recent memory. To be clear, I’m not referring to the basic notion of adapting the hugely popular Japanese multi-media franchise into a live-action American film. “Pokémon” is so ubiquitous at this point that even if you’ve never really experienced it –— as is the case with me — you’ve almost certainly at least heard about it through cultural osmosis. Moreover, that ubiquity practically transformed into notoriety with the 2016 release of the augmented reality game “Pokémon Go,” of which, again, you’ve almost definitely heard.
For Stephanie Everett ’19, her career on stage far predates her recent roles in the Dartmouth productions of “Eclipsed” and “Into the Woods.” Rather, it dates back to her fourth-grade talent show, in which she and four other girls performed “Hard Knock Life” from “Annie” complete with props and choreography. According to Everett, her passion for theater grew from that day on; she participated in musicals throughout middle school and high school, where she said she found a serious program with a dedicated teacher.
At some point, every person has felt pressure to live up to some kind of expectation to fulfill a role and project an external image of ourselves to others.
Kelleen Moriarty ’19, the student director for the upcoming production of “The Glass Menagerie,” has been involved in theater since she was in middle school. According to Moriarty, when she first came to Dartmouth, she knew that she wanted to major in theater and eventually pursue it professionally, since theater was “the one thing” in her life she was “very sure” of.
With the release of her new single “ME!” this past April 26, Taylor Swift has evolved once again. A bubbly and bright pop song, “ME!” marks Swift’s departure from the mood of her previous album, the inspired and aggressive “reputation,” and her persona’s transformation to the glaringly upbeat and pastel imagery of “ME!”
The film “Gloria Bell,” written and directed by Sebastián Lelio and starring Julianne Moore as the eponymous main character, is a meandering slice-of-life film beautifully unfolding what can only be called a coming-of-age film, only later in life. Gloria, the titular protagonist, is divorced, has an ordinary job and entertains herself by dancing in various nightclubs across Los Angeles and having unextraordinary interactions with her adult son and daughter. All of a sudden, a new romance blossoms for Gloria when Arnold, portrayed by John Turturro, picks her up at a nightclub. The two spend the night together and, at first, the relationship seems over just as quickly as it started — infinitely unimportant to Gloria. Her life is interesting with or without a lover, laced with subtle and grand disappointments such as her son’s wife abandoning him and their son, her daughter’s relationship with a Swedish big wave surfer, her work best friend’s imminent firing and her own mother squandering all the money left by Gloria’s father. The film treats such events with mundanity, as they are, after all, just parts of life. When Arnold calls Gloria to invite her on a date, it is clear she has forgotten him as much as the audience has, since she is caught up in her own life. We see Gloria answer the phone and respond, softly puzzled, “No, I’m not mad. Why would I be mad?’ Her nonchalance demonstrates her own self-contentment in life, based on a self-worth not rooted in someone else’s love or approval.
Warning: The following article contains spoilers for the film “Avengers: Endgame.”
It’s been almost four years since Cage the Elephant released their Grammy-winning album “Tell Me I’m Pretty,” and in that time, frontman Matt Shultz suffered the shocks of a tumultuous life . He endured a divorce from his wife Juliette Buchs along with the suicides of two close friends , and that despair became the impetus for Cage’s fifth studio album, “Social Cues,” released on April 19.
Museums originated from Western collectors displaying “artifacts” from other cultures. Indeed, many items in museum collections are there because they were donated by collectors of such “ethnic” artifacts. So, given this early practice of showcasing travels, conquest and wealth, what is the responsibility of the museum today? Do museums have an obligation to educate the public about other cultures and their history? Even if that position were the consensus, which it is far from being, there is still more discourse about whether or not an institution should be the final proprietor of knowledge that originates from indigenous communities and how a museum should fulfill its purpose if it should not be. For example, some are pushing museums to consult with indigenous communities to make curatorial decisions.
At the beginning of this term, I noticed just how much stuff I had accumulated after several years of dorm life in a boarding school. I have used all of my closets and other storage spaces to the fullest, yet, I still have many books, jackets, random electronic devices and documents on the floor. Sometimes, I struggle to dig out the t-shirt I want to wear because my closet is literally full of clothes; other times I am tripped by the Amazon boxes on the ground or I cannot find the right cable among millions of cables all of which have become so intertwined that they may never be separated from each other. This is what a pair of filmmakers called the “Minimalists” refer to as “clutter.”
Reaching its 40th anniversary this year, “Alien,” directed by Ridley Scott, is widely regarded as one of the most influential sci-fi/fantasy films of all times. The film’s symbolism, grand setting, relatable extraterrestrial horror and the metaphysical questions it raises all contribute to a complex and thrilling viewing experience. Forty years since its release, the movie’s profound message still echoes with human identity and remains relevant today. As a devout “Alien” fan, I will review “Alien,” the first movie of the namesake series, but I will also provide a brief guide on the correct sequential order in which to watch the iconic movie franchise.
“Avengers: Endgame” is one of those odd films that everyone wants to talk about, but, in a sense, no one does. Fans fear that critics will spoil the experience for them, and critics fear the wrath of these fans, resulting in a cycle that does its very best to curtail any actual conversation about the film or its content. Thus, while I will certainly strive to avoid spoilers throughout this review, I always want to talk about some of the thematic and narrative implications of the film. To paraphrase video essayist Dan Olson, if you don’t want spoilers for “Avengers: Endgame,” don’t go see “Avengers: Endgame” because it is wall to wall with spoilers for “Avengers: Endgame.”
The CW Network’s show, “Crazy Ex-Girlfriend” has been my favorite TV show since I binged the first three seasons of it last term, which is also when I learned that the next season to my newfound favorite would be its last. My experiences with last seasons for personal favorites in television have not been great, so I was nervous and disappointed about the end to a TV gem that I had just discovered. Luckily, the fourth season of the show was yet another strong addition of a chapter in the protagonist’s journey of self-acceptance and learning to navigate personal relationships, while also fulfilling its role as a final season well by tying the story together in a satisfying conclusion.
The Hood Museum is currently exhibiting the student-curated show “Consent: Complicating Agency in Photography,” featuring photographs that visualize the subject of consent. The exhibition was curated by 2017-18 Hood senior interns Gina Campanelli ’18, Marie-Therese Cummings ’18, Ashley Dotson ’18, Tess McGuinness ’18 and Kimberly Yu ’18, and displays a collection of photographs procured through the Hood’s Museum Collecting 101 program, in which students curate photographic works to the Hood Museum. The exhibition is the first to be displayed at the renovated Hood Museum as part of the student-curated “A Space for Dialogue” series.
As any regular watcher can tell you, Netflix has been delivering an inordinate amount of original films to our screens lately. Whether the film is an action-packed thriller or a celebrity’s documentary, Netflix seems to never run out of ideas.
Before winter break, I had never seen a single episode of “Game of Thrones,” let alone read one of George R.R. Martin’s novels. By the time break ended, I had seen almost the entire HBO fantasy series, not just because I was enrolled in the winter class, ENGL 53.6, “Game of Thrones: Reimagining Medieval History as an Allegory of the Present” with English and creative writing professor James Dobson, but because it’s the type of show that once you start, it’s near impossible to stop. Once I finished season one, I started season two. Before I knew it, I was one of the many eager fans anticipating the release of season eight.
On April 18, Margaret Atwood, a novelist, poet and activist best known for her critically-acclaimed novel and subsequent Emmy award-winning Hulu TV remake “The Handmaid’s Tale,” gave a public lecture at the Spaulding Auditorium through the Dorsett Fellowship Lecture Series, a program that seeks to bring practitioners and scholars of ethics to campus.
Everyone loves bad films. We may pretend not to or try to justify this preference, but at the end of the day, we all have at least one guilty pleasure film. Of course, the very notion of a “bad film” is contentious because no method of film criticism has the capacity to be purely objective. That being said, I still contend that everyone has the tendency to love films that we personally deem to be “bad” but elicit a distinct sense of enjoyment in us nonetheless.
This past January, Toro y Moi (also known as Chaz Bear) released his sixth album, “Outer Peace.” Inspired by the electronic dance music of Daft Punk and Wally Badarou’s synthpop, “Outer Peace” is a breezy 10 tracks, spanning just over 30 minutes. As a whole, the album is very easy to listen to — the tracks are generally composed of low-fi, low energy, yet upbeat beats and melodies — and none of them are longer than four minutes. On the surface, Toro y Moi has produced a fun, and at times quirky, album full of hits that can be played at a wide range of events, whether it be at a party that’s about to hit its peak or at a study table that needs a pick-me-up. A deeper dive into the album with closer listening, though, reveals that Toro y Moi has also subtly inputted his own little touches of tongue-in-cheek ironic flair and his sense of pessimistic disillusionment to which millennials and Gen Zers can definitely relate.