The Monthly - May 30, 2019

Page 1

June 2019

Sex and the Cindy

Writer and director Cindy Chupack talks motherhood and finding her voice p.5

Cartoons Come Out

Five years after “The Legend of Korra,” queer representation in children’s TV continues to evolve p.10

D&I: Dillo and Inclusion Notes from the Dungeon Dillo includes historic number of women, but faces issues of inclusivity p.8

“Bonding” star Brendan Scannell talks comedy, confidence and making his own path p.12


MS in Leadership for Creative Enterprises COMMUNICATION

Connect your creative vision with the strategic knowledge needed to succeed in Arts, Entertainment, and Media in one year

Innovative coursework in marketing, finance, economics, law + analytics

Professional trip to a media capital + monthly Chicago-area site visits and guest speakers

Summer experiential quarter bridging program curriculum to a real-world setting

Learn more at

creative.northwestern.edu/ Apply now for fall 2019 admission


Staff of

Charlotte Walsh Monthly Editor Catherine Buchaniec Roxanne Panas Designers Wilson Chapman Ally Mauch Andrea Michelson James Pollard Owen Stidman Writers

Cover photo: Courtesy of Cindy Chupack

CONTENTS Sex and the Cindy

5

D&I: Dillo and Inclusion

8

Cartoons Come Out

10

Notes from the Dungeon

12

Open Tab

14


Editor: I

started off this quarter thinking about the lives of Monthlies past — from our very first issue over two years ago, which featured a photo of Bienen on the cover (the design… their minds!), to some of our most recent, which featured sports stories, something I never thought was possible. But now, as I’m preparing to study abroad in the fall, I’m thinking about the stories of Monthlies future. When I took over the magazine in April, I was a little overwhelmed. I had no idea how to compile interesting, longform stories; I have a vivid memory of FaceTiming former editor Madeleine in a mild panic. And when I finally threw together an issue in April, I was worried people would see right through me — that they would realize I had no idea what I was doing. But none of us really have an idea what we’re doing here. We’re here, on the third floor of Norris until the wee hours of the night, joking about Dennis Quaid, shark attacks, “Survivor” and the identity of Peter’s true father, and that all ends up somewhere in the eight pages of the paper we put out everyday. So when we get the chance to look back, to reflect on our successes, like in The Monthly — it shouldn’t be seen as something stressful, it should be celebrated. During this quarter, I think I’ve learned how to celebrate our victories. Some of our hits have included talking about sex dungeons in The Daily, learning about a rock band made of football players and columns about diversity in some of our staffers’ favorite television shows. We’ve reviewed bars, cafes, documentaries and feature films. Our covers have featured theater stars, writers and comedians — all examples of what we as Northwestern students can do when we have ideas we believe in. So I’m hoping to start seeing The Monthly as a celebration, even though it’s difficult sometimes, like when a source falls through or a photo doesn’t come in. Because when I look through the final PDFs of our beautiful designs around 3 a.m. early Wednesday morning, that’s what it feels like, and that’s what most of our work should feel like. So thank you, Daily, for another quarter of laughs, friendships and mags. Even though I joke too often that I will quit this publication in protest, I probably never will (or at least not for a bit). It’s just too much fun.

4


Sex

and the

Cindy

Writer and director Cindy Chupack talks motherhood, romance and finding her voice

C H A R L O T T E WA L S H


C

indy Chupack (Medill ’87) always knew she wanted to be a writer. But growing up in Tulsa, Oklahoma, Chupack said she didn’t know of many ways to make a career out of her craft — which was one of the reasons she decided to attend Northwestern and major in journalism. “Journalism seemed like one of those ways,” she said. “It was partly my limited imagination, and partly my lack of role models of people who worked in Hollywood.” Now, Chupack has found a way to point her imagination to the big screen. Her first feature film, a comedy entitled “Otherhood,” will be released by Netflix on Aug. 2. “Otherhood” follows three suburban moms, played by Angela Bassett, Patricia Arquette and Felicity Huffman, as they travel to New York City unannounced to reconnect with their adult sons. For the empty nesters, the journey provides ample time to discover life after motherhood. This area is not new for Chupack, who has penned works on dating, relationships and motherhood since starting out in Hollywood. Chupack has written and produced shows like “Sex and the City,” “Modern Family” and “Everybody Loves Raymond” — work that has earned her two Golden Globe awards and two Emmys. In addition to

c ur

So

s

rte

ou

C e:

f yo

y

nd

Ci

ck pa

u Ch

publishing a number of personal essays and columns which touch on the subjects, Chupack’s most recent book, “The Longest Date: Life as a Wife,” details her struggles with marriage and infertility. Most known for “Sex and the City,” Chupack said it was fun to write for the show because she got to detail her experience as a young, single woman. She said she thinks the show is still popular today because the issues of romance are “universal and perennial.” “You need a friend and you want to commiserate,” she said. “There were so many relatable female issues in the show that aren’t pinned to a certain time. I think they’re just

into what you’re going through when you’re in that stage of life.” But the release of her newest work, “Otherhood,” was not without its challenges. Producer Cathy Schulman said the script was originally “too full of angst,” and needed a rewrite, which is how Chupack became involved. “That was so long ago that no one ever spoke about how obvious it

would be to bring in a woman to punch up the female dialogue,” Schulman said. “But nonetheless, they loved ‘Sex and the City’ and suggested I track down Cindy Chupack.” However, the rewritten script was without a director for nearly seven years. After some convincing from Schulman, Chupack said it became clear she was going to have to direct the film if she wanted it to become a reality. Directing was new territory for Chupack, who said she had long been intimidated by directing because she was unfamiliar with the more technical aspects of cinematography. But, she realized, she had to see what she did bring to the table — a lifetime of experiences both on- and off-set. Chupack said these fears plague a lot of female creatives. Many women will feel like they “need to have a hundred and ten percent of the qualifications that are advertised to apply for the job,” she said, as opposed to many men who assume they will learn on the job. In addition to many other factors which contribute to the abysmal number of female directors in Hollywood, Chupack said this mentality has to change. “Women will take ourselves out of the running if we’re not only qualified but overqualified,” she said. “Hopefully women are seeing their glass as half-full more than half-empty and thinking more about what they do bring to the table rather than what they don’t bring.” The film also pushed back its release date, having been originally scheduled for Mother’s Day, because of Huffman’s role in the college admissions scandal, in which


it was revealed that she had paid $15,000 to have someone correct her daughter’s wrong answers on the SAT. For Chupack, the news of the scandal was disappointing, especially given the years she had waited to make the film. While the timing and the subject matter of the film “could not have been worse,” Chupack said the team never thought of reshooting the film without Huffman. “She definitely took responsibility and she’s been through the wringer publically,” she said. “I hope by the time this premieres in August, people will still just be able to see it for what it is, which is really a valentine to mothers.” Schulman said she hopes people will see the film because of its subject matter — it focuses on the “fragile stage of womanhood” that comes after parenting but before the “grandmother” stage begins. Women have full lives, Schulman said, and this gap period is one to be explored. “Who are we supposed to be in this phase?” Schulman said. “The women we were before we had kids, the women we became with kids or something entirely different? The film digs deep into all of this unchartered territory.” Chupack said she hopes to encourage other female writers to feel comfortable sharing their experiences — something she has done working with the Council of One Hundred network, a program dedicated to connecting female undergraduate seniors and recent graduates with successful Northwestern women. In these events,

Chupack said she talks to women not only about how to be confident in business meetings and writers’ rooms, but how to write personal narratives.

Most recently, Chupack talked about those same skills while video chatting into a Medill graduate class focusing on personal essays. Prof. Mei-Ling Hopgood, who teaches the course, said the particular class was centered around writing emotions, and Chupack talked about her experience incorporating her own emotions and experiences into her writing. Wr i t i n g h u m o r, Hopgood said, is difficult, but Chupack gave the class one piece of advice that stuck in her head: write the story how you would tell it to a close friend. This, she said, allows you to be vulnerable and connect with

the audience. Hopgood said she hopes the students were inspired by Chupack’s talk. “There’s a lot of journalism students who would love to be screenwriters, and I think that she just had a lot of great advice about writing and thinking and feeling and sharing your story and how important that is,” Hopgood said. Through her unconventional road to directing, Chupack said she wants to inspire young, creative women to realize their full potential. And hopefully, Chupack said, she can be a role model for girls like her who couldn’t imagine a career in creative writing. “For a long time, the networks were kind of going after the same audiences,” she said. “Now there are more voices, which is really what we need because that’s what keeps the industry alive and vital and that’s… what will hopefully bring us all together.” ◊


: I D&

d n a O L ID L

tor s i h des u l c y in a D llo i D

of w r e b um n ic

8

n ni e om

N IS O

U L NI C

ces a f till s t , bu p u e lin

y vit i s clu n i f es o u s is

by James Pollard


D

illo Day 2019’s theme may be “retro,” but this year’s lineup looks nothing like it has before. Three solo female artists have never performed on the Dillo Day main stage in the same year. But on June 1, Teyana Taylor, Anna Lunoe and Daya will change that. Having three women make up the majority of main stage performers has been “a long time coming,” Mayfest co-chair Molly Dudas said. And this year, the second stage is co-sponsored by For Members Only and will feature entirely black artists, including Monique Heart, the eighth-place finisher on Season 10 of RuPaul’s Drag Race. But while Mayfest has made a concerted effort to post a more diverse lineup, they’ve continued to struggle with other issues of inclusivity.

How the Dillo gets made Mayfest’s booking committee begins searching for artists before first-years even begin looking up classes. Koyote Meiners-Rios, who is the head of booking, said the team starts discussing names in August. After brainstorming, students begin contacting agencies and getting quotes — a performer’s price estimate — from the artists they are interested in. They use that information, plus the student poll sent out in the fall, to select the final lineup. “It’s very fun but you have to be very thoughtful in your decisions, obviously, because you’re working to pick a lineup of five artists that are going to define Dillo for a lot of people,” she said.

Defining Dillo With Dillo Day being the largest studentrun music festival in the nation, Meiners-Rios said she feels a responsibility to help set music industry trends in the right direction. Just as this year’s Dillo Day lineup includes a record number of women, Mayfest’s 2019 executive board does too: before co-chairs Dudas and Emily Davidson, Mayfest had never had two female co-chairs serve at the same time. And before artist selection, members of this year’s executive board were all on the same page about their priorities: better representation in the lineup. Meiners-Rios said the difficulty in booking a diverse array of artists is a reflection of greater problems in the music industry. “There are just more white male artists out

there than there are any other thing,” she said. “You could throw a rock and hit one.” Because of the saturation of men in the market, she said female artists tend to cost more than male artists. Additionally, she said that when female artists like Billie Eilish or Lizzo grow in popularity, they blow up at a much higher rate than male artists do, “which is great for (Lizzo), but expensive for us,” she added. Mayfest’s internal statistics reflect that. Of the artists they received quotes from in the past two years, there was a 66 percent increase in price from last year to this year. However this was not an even jump — for women artists, there was a 92 percent increase in price, compared to 56 percent for men. “It’s just supply and demand,” she said. “People are willing to pay more just because there’s less of it out there.” Dudas added that even if a male and female performer cost the same, if the male artist was of much greater recognition than the other, Mayfest would not be achieving true equality. For example, she said that there are few female EDM artists most people would know, and because of this, they are exponentially more expensive than others. The Communication junior said this year’s EDM artist, Anna Lunoe, has her own individual voice, but gets less recognition than male DJs. Battle of the DJs winner Caroline Hughes, better known as Luminosity, said while the DJ community on campus has a lot of women, EDM is a very male-dominated field, and many female producers are not taken seriously. She said that there has been a lack of women in Dillo Day’s previous lineups, especially within EDM. “I’ve seen women in the past, but I feel like they’ve been overshadowed by bigger male artists,” Lunoe said.

One step forward, three steps back Even with the increased diversity, both within Mayfest’s leadership and Dillo Day’s lineup, both Meiners-Rios and Dudas emphasized that there is still work to be done. On May 25, Mayfest Productions shared an apology for three racist incidents that had occurred this quarter. During promotional video filming, a Mayfest member mistook an Asian member of a band for another Asian performer. Another promotional video for the eventual announcement of Teyana Taylor featured the use of the word “tea” and the student

organization was called out for appropriation of black queer culture. In addition, Mayfest released a Battle of the Bands teaser including footage of the student band PROM D8, which includes people of color and members of the queer community, without giving them credit. The incidents circulated on social media, where students called out Mayfest for their insensitivity. On Facebook, PROM D8 wrote that “we felt exploited not only because we are artists, but because we are one of the ONLY queer, trans, poc, inclusive bands in the entire scene being exploited purposely FOR our aesthetic.” And on Twitter, @jessiturassdown called out the organization for using black queer slang in Taylor’s promotional video without using black actors. In response, Mayfest issued an apology, saying “racism and bias in any shape or form, conscious or unconscious, are unacceptable.” “Our intent was never to isolate or harm any marginalized communities on this campus,” the statement read. “However, the impact of our actions did have this effect, and for this we take full responsibility.”

Change on the horizon In the apology, Mayfest committed to “meeting internally and with other campus resources to determine which steps we can take to ensure that our members have the cultural awareness and education to create a space free of micro-aggressions for our student performers and peers.” Meiners-Rios said the group had a Diversity and Inclusion chair for the first time this year, who also serves on the booking committee. Now that her committee has finished their work for this year’s festival, she said they will look to consult people more knowledgeable about topics like diversity to ensure that Dillo Day is a place where all can feel comfortable and belong. Dudas said all members of Mayfest have brainstormed ways to help address these issues, and that the group has some concrete plans coming. She added that she hopes the group can build upon the momentum of lineup diversity in future years, regardless of who is in leadership. “I’m very proud of the work that we’ve done and I think that we still have a lot of work to do,” Dudas said. “Hopefully this three out of five female artists is the start of a momentum to carry us into bigger change and sustained change that will be carried on for years to come.” ◊

99


Five years after ‘The Legend of Korra,’ queer representation in children’s TV continues to evolve by Wilson Chapman

I

t’s somewhat embarrassing to admit, but the only time I’ve ever cried watching a TV show was during the series finale of “The Legend of Korra.” I was 15 when the show ended, and secretly started watching three years earlier out of loyalty to its parent show “Avatar: The Last Airbender.” I bought the tie-in merch, went as Aang for Halloween and tried running away from home when my Dad wouldn’t let me watch a new episode. I had, and still have to this day, a strong emotional attachment to the imaginative, colorful universe of the series. Diving back in through “Korra” comforted me during my rocky high school experience. So when the show’s final episode confirmed Korra and Asami’s relationship, I became overwhelmed with emotion seeing them hold each other’s hands and stare into

10

each other’s eyes. Emotion at seeing myself represented in this world I cared so much about, and emotion at thinking of how a children’s show was including an explicitly queer relationship. “The Legend of Korra” isn’t the reason I came out. But the finale made me feel less alone when I felt isolated from everyone I may not have grown comfortable enough with my sexuality to come out in 12th grade. And looking back, if more children’s television had included queer characters, I may never have had to come out at all. Before “Korra’s” watershed moment, queer representation in kids TV existed, but only subtextually. I recently learned one of my favorite childhood cartoon characters, goofball Richie from “Static Shock,” was gay in the original comic book. Although showrunner Dwayne McDuffie wanted


to maintain that in the series, he was only allowed to hint at it. “Korra” ended in 2014. Almost five years later, it’s clear the show broke barriers for queer representation in children’s TV. Since the finale, multiple shows have included explicitly queer romantic plotlines and characters. The most recent example — the gay wedding of Mr. Ratburn featured in the PBS show “Arthur,” — attracted praise on social media. Arguably the most notable animated show for queer representation since “Korra” is “Steven Universe.” The show premiered in 2013, and has since become one of the most queer-friendly shows on television. The show featured the first gay wedding in the history of children’s cartoons, between Ruby and Sapphire, and a plotline following a main character struggling to move on from the death of the woman she loved. This representation gives me hope current young queer children will grow up in a more accepting, inclusive world. However, these shows have not been flawless. When “Korra” ended, having two women enter a romantic relationship was radical and progressive. Although the show did not explicitly portray Korra and Asami as

queer until the last possible moment, their status as the first queer main characters in Nickelodeon’s history made its secrecy more understandable. In the years since, however, shows have continued to conceal queer relationships until the last minute, like in “Gravity Falls” and “Adventure Time.” Because networks still prevent creators from fully depicting queer relationships, these shows don’t fully explore queerness, instead including it as a final twist. These shows also have many of the same issues with queer representation as adult-oriented television, like killing off queer characters. One appalling example is “Voltron: Legendary Defender,” a Netflix reboot of the classic ‘80s anime. In 2018, the show revealed the protagonist Shiro was formerly in a romantic relationship with a man named Adam, only to have Adam unceremoniously killed off in the season’s premiere to provide cheap angst for Shiro. This plays into television’s tendency to not only kill off queer characters, but also give them undignified and meaningless deaths. Furthermore, like adult-oriented television, the representation these shows offer still often doesn’t include everyone. Even as Cartoon Network and Netflix

make efforts to include gay and bisexual protagonists, transgender characters remain an unexplored area of children’s media. Trans people are some of the most vulnerable members of the queer community, and having representation of this population accessible to children could be invaluable for further acceptance and understanding of trans issues. And while shows like “Korra” and “Voltron” depict queer people of color, most fail to explore the experiences of QTPOC. On some level, I feel guilty for pointing out the issues with the representation that this new wave of animated shows has worked to provide. When I watched Cartoon Network and Nickelodeon, I never imagined they would include romantic narratives I could find myself in. But really, that’s the point. It’s important that these shows for kids make everyone, gay or bi or trans, feel accepted, and included, and normalized. And that’s why creators and channels need to continue to push the limits of the queer narratives we tell our children — so maybe someday, that final scene of “Korra” won’t be the titanic, earthquake-level event it felt like for me at the time. Instead, It’ll just be reality. ◊


notes from the

‘Bonding’ star Brendan Scannell talks comedy, confidence and making his own path

by Andrea Michelson


B

rendan Scannell (Communication ’13) signed on to co-star in “Bonding” thinking it was a project only his parents would see. While some actors might shudder at the thought of their family watching them play a dominatrix’s assistant, Scannell said nothing he does shocks his parents anymore. “My parents came to enough of my improv shows and my Mee-Ow shows in college to get completely desensitized to anything ‘blue’ or edgy,” Scannell said. “Bonding” is edgy to say the least. The show follows aspiring stand-up comedian Pete, played by Scannell, as he takes on a job helping his high school best friend Tiff (Zoe Levin) in a sex dungeon where she moonlights as a dominatrix. A journey of personal growth — as well as sexual mishaps, stand-up comedy and plenty of leather — ensues. Creator Rightor Doyle originally wrote the show for blackpills, a French streaming platform. But after a successful run on the film festival circuit in 2018, Netflix bought the show and released it in April. But before his breakout role in “Bonding,” Scannell was a Northwestern student pursuing comedy, mostly through groups like the Mee-Ow Show, Titanic Players and iO Chicago. The former theater major said he auditioned for plenty of plays but rarely got roles, ultimately learning to make his own success at NU. “The student body is really hard-working and makes an effort to make its own work and choose its own path,” Scannell said. “And that’s really what you have to do if you want to be an artist in our current media landscape.There’s just so much stuff to do, and to get any sort of attention or a foot in the door, you really have to be somebody who makes your own opportunities.” Scannell not only took notes from his peers at Northwestern, but his classes as well. He said acting professor Sandra Marquez “changed his life” and continues to inspire his work. Marquez said she was impressed with Scannell’s maturity and confidence, which translated in his work in and outside of class. “He has this sort of quietness about him, but then I went to see him do some of his improv work and it was like this other person would get unleashed, which was fun to watch,”Marquez said.

During his early years in Los Angeles, Scannell built on these experiences at Northwestern, doing improv and stand-up comedy in addition to releasing some short comedic videos and a webseries on YouTube. When he began auditioning for TV work, he realized that the time he spent “trying to make high quality stuff for very little money” paid off when hiring teams noticed his online content. After a few years in L.A., Scannell got his first series regular job in the Paramount Network television reboot of “Heathers,” a cult classic movie that touches on themes of bullying and violence in schools. The show was set to premiere in March 2018, but the release was delayed out of respect for the victims of the Parkland shooting. The network released an edited version of the show in October. Scannell said despite its rocky release, the show will “live on in infamy.” “As an actor, you’re really only in charge of your performance, and everything else is up to the movements and decision-making of enormous conglomerates,” Scannell said. “All you can really do is be committed to your artistry and hope that hope you’re doing good work on set.” While filming “Heathers,” Scannell came across the “Bonding” script, and the story of a young, gay stand-up comedian who goes on a journey of confidence immediately resonated with him. He sent in his audition tape and got the part days later. Doyle, who wrote, directed and produced “Bonding,” said as soon as he saw Scannell’s tape, he knew he was the perfect actor to play Pete. Though the show is based on Doyle’s personal experience as a dominatrix’s assistant, he said he wanted to find a Pete who made the part his own. “It’s based on me, but I didn’t want it to be about me,” Doyle said. “That’s why finding Brendan was so great, because Brendan is not me at all. He is so special and funny and different than I was at that time in my life, and he just made it so completely him.” Doyle said he also appreciated that Scannell and co-star Levin were “game for anything,” which was crucial for “Bonding.” The show was shot in 20 days in dirty basements and dungeons, he said, but the actors made filming easy. Scannell said shooting in East Village apartments, where he sometimes wouldn’t even have a chair to sit in, was certainly an adjustment from “Heathers” — which was shot in a studio

in LA with a much higher budget. But he found the experience to be “artistically liberating,” and at times, just plain funny. He described one instance where he was filming a sex scene with an actor who, in order to get the right shot, wore nothing but “a little sock over his junk” — giving Scannell a memorable view. “You know, that’s the type of stuff where you’re like, ‘Wow, here we are. It’s 9 a.m., and this is an actor who I just met’s butt,’” Scannell said. Another funny on-set memory involved trying to film a cum shot aimed for his face, which ended up flying over his shoulder

Wow, here we are. It’s 9 a.m., and this is an actor who I just met’s butt,’” Scannell said. in several takes. And to make things even more awkward, his brother was on set that day. But “Bonding” isn’t all laughs and sex scenes. Scannell said one of the most important things represented in the show is Tiff and Pete’s friendship. Friendships like these, between a woman and a gay man, have been some of the most enriching relationships in his own life, he said. “Our society really pits men against each other and really pits women against each other, and for some reason, this friendship between women and gay men is able to bypass those rules,” Scannell said. “It’s kind of like a secret backdoor to a really amazing friendship.” Scannell said he was able to bring his own experiences — as a gay man in friendships like these and as a fresh college graduate in over his head — to his portrayal of Pete. Like Pete, Scannell worked some odd jobs after graduation — though he never worked in a sex dungeon himself. He said 99 percent of being an actor requires developing other skills like writing, set design or creating solo projects to earn that one percent of time spent on set. “Making your own art, with some consistency, and in a voice that’s true to your own can really unlock opportunities for you,” Scannell said. ◊

13


Bagel Art Cafe is a New York escape in Illinois

I

am a person who likes to mark all of life’s moments with food. Had a great day? Time to whip up a large bowl of spaghetti topped with red sauce and an ungodly mountain of grated parmesan. Really terrible day? A pint of Häagen-Dazs strawberry ice cream should do the trick. Hungover? A bacon, egg and cheese sandwich has been known to help me defy the odds. Any or all of the above? A bagel from Bagel Art Cafe, at 615 Dempster St., is the go-to. Bagel Art satisfies my need for a carb-filled Saturday breakfast and gets me through a finals week-induced writer’s block. It’s quick enough to grab a bite to-go on a weekday morning, but also has ample seating if I want to get some coffee and sit while digging in. I now frequent the shop so often that I’m starting to believe the people at the counter remember me when they offer their always-friendly smiles. This is big, considering I came to college from New York thinking I would never find a good bagel in the Midwest, let alone just a few minutes down the road in Evanston. I am not going to claim that Bagel Art is the perfect bagel, but it is very good for a shop that is roughly 800 miles west of what I consider Bagel Central. The cafe, tucked on the corner of Dempster and Sherman, looks like a classic bagel shop with baskets of bagels hanging on the wall and tubs of various cream cheeses — plain, lox, veggie, chive and strawberry — sitting behind the counter. While they serve up a variety of

bagels, sandwiches, salads and pastries, along with reliably-good Intelligentsia coffee, the bagels are really what you should be there for. A classic everything bagel with cream cheese from Bagel Art can almost (almost) transport me from Illinois all the way back to New York. It reminds me that bagels are my panacea, the easy answer to every mood. Aside from the basic bagel and schmear, Bagel Art has a few more inventive bagel sandwich options. For a sweeter morning, the Cinnamon Toast (raisin bagel, cream cheese and cinnamon sugar, served open-faced) tastes like Cinnamon Toast Crunch in bagel form. The Early Bird (veggie cream cheese, bacon, egg, swiss cheese) is one of many egg sandwiches on the menu, and while the combination sounds like it shouldn’t work, I promise it does. I mainly attribute this to the veggie cream cheese, perfectly studded with chopped vegetables that add a solid crunch to every bite. It’s probably not the cheapest bagel in

— by Ally Mauch town — basic bagels range from $3.25 to $4.95 and egg sandwiches from $3.75 to $5.75. It is, however, definitely the best. Bagel Art’s location is far from ideal for the Northwestern student on foot, but it makes for a nice weekend morning stroll into the MainDempster Mile, a part of Evanston that often goes overlooked by students. Alternatively, remember that kid in Brian Meng/Daily Senior Staffer your discussion section Alex Schwartz/Daily Senior Staffer who you’re pretty sure has a car? Hit them up for a ride south to Bagel Art. The bagels will (probably) make up for the awkward journey. ◊


Reel Thoughts ‘Knock Down the House,’ featuring Alexandria

tidman

nS by Owe

Ocasio-Cortez, isn’t just another underdog story

T

oday, pretty much ever y American has heard of Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, the Congresswoman from New York. However, this wasn’t the case only a year ago. Rachel Lears’ documentary “Knock Down the House” chronicles Ocasio-Cortez’s journey from working as a bartender to defeating then-Congressman Joe Crowley in the primaries, ultimately being elected to the House of Representatives. But this film isn’t simply a profile of Ocasio-Cortez. It’s the story of three other progressive women who attempted to unseat career politicians in elections across the country. It’s a testament to the power of grassroots movements. And, to quote Ocasio-Cortez, it’s a reminder that “in order for one of us to make it through, 100 of us have to try.” Ocasio-Cortez is the main focus of the documentary, not only because of her dynamic personality, but because she was the only one of the four women to win her election. And because of this emphasis on Ocasio-Cortez, the documentary seems designed to give viewers hope for the future of American democracy. It couldn’t have accomplished that task without a happy ending. Many viewers of this documentary are probably somewhat aware of

Center of Netflix Media Source: Courtesy

Ocasio-Cortez’s journey to Congress. But Lears sets her film apart by providing never-before-seen insight into the Congresswoman’s personal life. Lears introduces viewers to Ocasio-Cortez’s family, illustrates the efforts she took just to get on the ballot and reveals the stress she felt before a debate with then-Congressman Crowley. All these details make her underdog story that much more meaningful, showing that Ocasio-Cortez isn’t just a big personality or social media sensation — she’s a real, vulnerable human being. And her story is an uplifting reminder that regular human beings can make a substantial difference in this country. Lears also gives viewers glimpses into the campaigns and personal lives of Missouri’s Cori Bush, West Virginia’s Paula Jean Swearengin and Nevada’s Amy Vilela. And while each of these women has her own compelling story, they all end up taking a back seat to Ocasio-Cortez. Additionally, Lears frequently jumps from one woman’s perspective to another, making the documentary more confusing than it needs to be. These women’s stories are perhaps better suited to a four-part miniseries than a single nonlinear film. Despite its unnecessarily complex structure, the film’s messages are clear. Images of poverty in West Virginia, the Ferguson unrest and an absentee

Congressman in New York highlight the U.S.’ various socioeconomic and political problems. Footage of progressive group Justice Democrats’ meetings emphasize the country’s need — now more than ever — for grassroots political action. Ocasio-Cortez’s victory shows viewers that the underdog can win. Yet the other women’s stories remind viewers that in the country’s current state, such a victory is nearly impossible. Before the film even starts, any politically aware viewer knows how “Knock Down the House” ends. Ocasio-Cortez wins a seat in the House of Representatives, and her story inspires other young progressives to make a difference in their communities. This predictability might suggest that the documentary isn’t worth watching, but that’s far from the truth. Where Lears’ film truly shines is in its depictions of the more intimate, human moments in its subjects’ lives. It ’s in those moments that the documentar y transcends politics. Regardless of whether they won their respective elections or people agree with their politics, the four women in “Knock Down the House” are ordinary people who accomplish extraordinary things. And though the film’s message about the power of the underdog may not be the most original one, it’s certainly inspiring. ◊

15


JULY 13 - 28 Ethel M. Barber Theater, 20 Arts Circle

Box Office: (847) 491-7282 WIRTZ.NORTHWESTERN.EDU


Turn static files into dynamic content formats.

Create a flipbook
Issuu converts static files into: digital portfolios, online yearbooks, online catalogs, digital photo albums and more. Sign up and create your flipbook.