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NICK PARKER
DO YOU SMELL WHAT THE MIZ IS COOKIN'?
Reality
provides
TVs top
material
Drama has its place.
Filmmakers stuff their
stock with it; novelists pour
it on like gravy; Shakespeare’s got it
in spades.
Dramatic conflict is the driv
ing force behind the worlds most
meaningful entertainment, and
when it’s done right, there’s an
emotional hook that’s concrete,
contextual and powerful.
It taps into some semblance
of what it feels like to be hopeful,
heartbroken and human. It has a
resonance that feels familiar
It might not be real life, but it’s
close.
Cinema accomplishes true
drama through its almost limitless,
free-form potential and instant
accessibility. And there’s a lot to be
said for good cinematography.
Theater was founded on drama,
the simplicity of humans acting
and reacting in reality. Viewers are
personally and profoundly involved
just by being there.
Novels are the best. No other
media engages the you in such a
raw, clean fashion. Drama and
conflict are felt through a sort of
psychic transportation —a fusion
of two individual imaginations.
That’s why I hate “E.R,” That’s
why “Touched by an Angel” is
biblical diarrhea. That’s why Jerry
Bruckheimer should be tied to the
Hollywood sign and burned alive,
his limbs shipped to Peter Engel
and Jonathan Murray as a warning.
Hying to capture true drama in a
half-hour or even an hourlong tele
vision show is like trying to catch a
butterfly with a tennis racket
It swings wildly at the idea,
brandishing the belief that hitting
the audience with death, drags, love
or hope is the same as nurturing an
emotional investment.
The brutality, fragmentation and
patness of television make it impos
sible to convey real feeling.
Advertisements crowd the narra
tive line. Brevity rushes epiphanies.
Network censorship saps away at
truth and humanity. Sorry, televi
sion, you just don’t stand a chance.
But we did save you a seat on the
short bus.
Dumb, violent, lowbrow pro
gramming is television’s true saving
grace. Yes, I understand the inher
ent negation of dumb grace.
And thankfully, there’s a whole
army of shows capitalizing on
human stupidity and a lack of basic
motor skills.
Shows like “Most Extreme
Elimination Challenge,” a screwy
interpretation of the ’Bos Japanese
import “Takeshi’s Castle,” are
perfect “Real TVT which features
videos of things blowing up, people
falling down and people blowing up
while falling down, is dead on.
“The Real World v. Road Rules”
shows (take your pick) should be
commended for their unveiled
sexuality, dehumanizing challenges
and repetitive casting of the same
ox-headed jocks, stumbling drunks
and iiber bitches/sluts.
They’re not breaking new
ground; they’re not socially signifi
cant; they’re not beautiful or heart
warming or even any good.
But they are deconstractive
genius filled with silliness
and stupidity so rampant that
they become self-referential and
redeeming as a result.
“MXC” isn’t going to make you
think, make you ache or make you
weep. Then again, it isn’t trying to,
and its ability to take itself as a joke
is what makes it the perfect fit for
the television format.
Plus, there’s something satisfying
about seeing a skinny Japanese guy
in a cape getting hit square in the
nuts. It just feels so right.
That isn’t to say that drama is a
dead art It’s everywhere, and it’s
absolutely necessary. But on televi
sion, drama never really existed. Its
frivolity and commercial feel make
dramatic television an oxymoron.
No matter who’s on trial, “Law
and Order” is milking a dry cow. No
matter how long it ran, “Friends”
never had genuine characters. No
matter who dies, “CSI” sucks.
Get in touch with television’s
true self. Indulge in the drama of
the absurd. Laugh at stupid people.
And don’t get eliminated.
Contact Nick Parker, a senior
journalism and English major,
atpanic@email.unc.ediL
Mismatched bits mar ‘Beauty’
BY SALEM NEFF
STAFF WRITER
“Stage Beauty” flows like a sleazy
piece of live theater.
Seventeenth-century English
theater saw a transition from stiff
gender barriers to the loosening of
the proverbial girdle for actresses.
Asa period piece and film, “Stage
Beauty” has fancy speech and lit
tle character development —but
memorable love scenes.
Billy Crudup portrays an actor of
female roles, and Claire Danes, who
steals his bit as Othello’s Desdemona,
seems to desire him although
there is never a true clarification of
his bisexuality.
Appropriate gender roles are
stressed at the film’s end, when
Cradup’s character plays the Moor,
a male role.
Operating under the 1660s para
digm, Ned Kynaston (Crudup) by
law must step down as Desdemona
and retreat to either a male role or
nothing at all. His former dresser,
Maria (Danes), helps him find the
suppressed man inside of him that
has lain dormant since childhood.
The transition from men to
women playing female roles should
be a victory for women’s rights. How
unrewarding it was for women when
men believed they were more capa
ble of representing women on stage
than women themselves.
Keeping the argument gray,
Kynaston argues that there is no
art in women playing themselves.
The hand movements and innocent
demeanor of women take many
years to perfect.
Unfortunately, these lessons are
not easily unlearned, as Kynaston
discovers when he can only perform
as a woman in a seedy tavern after
the new law has been passed. The
real-life Kynaston ultimately goes
on to play male roles.
At the film's climax, Crudup
Guests’ album serves up sonic feast
BY NICOLE BOBITSKI
STAFF WRITER
With their hot new album,
IAWOKEINACITYASLEEP, The
Honored Guests can be guests at my
dinner party anytime.
IAWOKEINACITYASLEEP - I’ll
give you a minute to process it— is
the first LP served up by the newly
formed band based in Chapel Hill.
The Honored Guests, an indie
rock, grange-inspired trio composed
of former members of the disbanded
group Milo, transcend reformed
band cliches with thoughtful vocals
and a complementary blend of bass,
drums and guitar chords.
Co-produced by The Honored
Guests and Robert Sledge,
formerly of Ben Folds Five,
IAWOKEINACITYASLEEP not only
continues the Milo legacy but goes
above and beyond by conveying the
group’s hard-earned maturity.
Russell Baggett, lead vocalist and
guitarist, is back and armed with
former Milo band mates Jeremy
Buenviaje and Andrew Kinghorn
to combine the crafted harmony of
their instrumental talents.
The beginning track,
“Postmarked,” showcases Baggett’s
illustriously gravelly voice, similar
to Eddie Vedder’s, and is the perfect
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COURTESY OF LIONS GATE FILMS
Feeling a bit saucy, period-piece tart Billy Crudup prepares to acknowledge
that all the world is, in fact, a stage and it's better experienced in a corset.
MOVIE IEVIEW
"STAGE BEAUTY"
★★
remains lightweight, not only in
his demeanor but also in his believ
ability. He helps Danes with her act
ing like Sean Patrick Thomas helps
Julia Stiles dance in “Save the Last
Dance.”
The two films should never be
compared otherwise.
And as usual, the leading man
saves the day, or in this case, play
just in the nick of time. What a
surprise!
Danes’ character is more a spokes
woman for actresses than a dynamic
artist; thus, the story is carried by
minor roles.
Hugh Bonneville as the theater
manager, has more personality than
Danes, and the true leading lady is
Zoe Tapper, who plays Nell Gwynn,
King Charles ll’s mistress. Vibrant
MUSIC ilflEif
THE HONORED GUESTS
IAWOKEINACITYASLEEP
irkirk
first course for the LP as it offers up a
carefree strum-and-bass melody.
“Flashlight” cleanses listeners’ pal
ettes with a light and airy approach
as Baggett’s voice slides in and out
of a hazy ode to solitude accompa
nied by the airy backup vocals of
Buenviaje and Kinghorn.
The fourth song, “The Punch,”
shocks the taste buds like a spiked
fruit cocktail at an aunt’s wedding.
It’s a drastic change from the rest of
the album, with vocals that seem to
be emitted from a tunnel and choppy
instrumental interludes.
“I Can’t Keep You” drifts in and
out of forceful guitar but offers an
effortless bass line and catchy cho
rus worthy of a single, with the sad
twang of the requisite lovelorn lyrical
premise:
“If you think my love is just a joke/
It’s the thing that haunts me forever/
And I’m thinking of giving up.”
The title track is probably the
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and properly manipulative, Nell con
vinces the king (Rupert Everett) that
women’s roles should appropriately
be played by women.
The advantage of the screen over
the stage is the use of accurate scen
ery and realistic characters to make
the audience emotionally involved.
Richard Eyre directs this adap
tation of a play as though it were a
play, and his artistic attempt fails.
The sets are obvious, and over-dra
matic acting by the film's nobility
appears too stressed.
“Stage Beauty” endures just long
enough. An interesting concept
and historically valuable, the film’s
plot had potential. The surprising
lack of strong performances from
Hollywood A-listers disappoints.
More chemistry hopefully exists
between Danes and Crudup in their
off-screen affair.
Contact the AidE Editor
at artsdesk@unc.edu.
most bland track on the album but
is made up for in the next few dishes
I mean, songs.
Infused with the sleepy rock sen
sibilities that the kids dig nowadays,
the last track, “Days Are Getting
Brighter,” is the perfect fade-out song
to finish the LP.
With sickly sweet love lyrics like
“No one even knows it’s you that I
love,” the album ends with what you
could call a rich dessert.
With IAWOKEINACITYASLEEP,
The Honored Guests serve up a full
course, four-star meal with their new
album, leaving listeners craving for
more.
Contact the AidE Editor
at artsdesk@unc.edu.
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THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 2004
Sans three MCs,
one DJ delivers
BY MARGARET HAIR
STAFF WRITER
The Beastie Boys, while they
were busy gettin’ down with no
delay, once asked, “Mix Master
Mike, what you got to say?”
He answered with a funky
breakdown of the beat bodies
were movin’ because there ain’t no
sound but the sound so soothin’.
Mix Master Mike, in his fourth
and most recent solo album,
Bangp.lla, proves that he can easily
function outside the three MCs and
one DJ setup, as far as his spinning
abilities are concerned.
Whether an album showcasing
those talents works well is more
questionable.
His 13-track turntable narra
tive seems to tell a story, though
it is unclear just what the plotline
is. Judging from song titles such
as “Tranzmissiort” and “Extra
Beast,” it has something to do
with space, the future, takeover
by zombies or other topics that
lend themselves well to runaway
from-it-all beats.
Pounding bass lines are fast
and frequent in every track, save
the samples that Mike throws in
almost all of which are so strik
ingly obscure that they offer little
repose for the listener.
The DJ relies heavily on syn
thesized strings repeated over an
extremely busy main beat. The
sound is overused and never quite
lies comfortably on an otherwise
strong foundation, giving many of
the tracks a lack of cohesiveness.
Asa note of redemption, Mix
Master Mike also samples a vari
ety of more suitable sounds, with
a couple of songs starting out on
flute loops. It baffles all logic, but
flute almost always sounds good
mixed with hip-hop beats, a fact
that is fully taken advantage of in
this case.
More than anything, Mix Master
Mike’s spinning and mixing abili
ties are ridiculous. He never loses
the beat, even amid the wall of
sound he has created.
On “Marvel,” the mix master
perfectly blends what sounds like
the theme song to a ’7os TV show
with his underlying bass pulse. The
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MUSIC
MIX MASTER MIKE
BANGZILLA
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mix is seamless.
The album itself misses out
on the smooth blend found in its
tracks.
A common trait to Mix Master
Mike’s work is a sort of ebb and
flow in the groove. He starts with
a sample, lays down a beat and
slowly builds it up with scattered
vocal and instrumental tracks, all
the while distorting and scratch
ing the result. Near the peak of
that sound mountain, he cuts
it off almost completely, often
changing to anew and unrelated
idea.
This tactic works well when it
serves as a background for a rap
per or as a tool from which they can
derive their simpler background
beats. Left to stand alone, it tends
to fail. Most of the loops, though
unique and thumping while they
last, seem underdeveloped or
abandoned.
Some things just make more
sense with three people rapping
about White Castle and ending
every line in rhyme and unison
which, by the way, is both absurd
and brilliant.
It’s true, nobody can do it like
Mix Master can do it.
He spins better than any DJ you
are likely to find, but his tracks
lack the maturity needed to hold
a listener’s attention for the entire
45-minute span of his album.
Contact the AidE Editor
at artsdesk@unc.edu.
7