V o l u m e I V, N u m b e r V I
Celebrating The Precious Human Tapestry
October 2, 2009
B.O.M.S. slams into session!
with George Watsky as feature performer
BY SAMANTHA SHOKIN Editor
The first thing you notice when attending an open mic session is the vibe. You don’t feel the vibe at an open mic. More like, you feed it. You and every attendee, performer, observer and passerby, are all distinct parts of the energy of a session like flames are part of a throbbing fire. With every applause, the energy pulses. With every howl or hum of approval, the vibe in the air sweeps past and takes you. You feel an untrembling silence keep the air still until it shakes from a unanimous exhalation. This is what I have come to expect, and mentally prepare myself for, every other Tuesday night at the castle commons. This is Brandeis’ own open mic series, B.O.M.S. I have attended and reviewed B.O.M.S. a few times in the past and every time I am
stunned by the amount of talent residing among Brandeis students. It takes the presence of a single mic to strip students of their composure and let loose on an open stage. That shy kid that you never spoke to in class reveals himself as a skilled musician. That quirky girl you always copy chem labs off of transforms into a master slam poet. And the audience just sits there, wide-eyed, absorbing the absurd amount of newly-discovered talent as it radiates from what moments prior were just “some random Brandeis kids.” But they’re not just some random Brandeis kids. It won’t take you long to realize that the B.O.M.S. attendees are some random Brandeis kids, but with serious chops—be they musical chops, poetic chops, or otherwise. Slam is not a formal occasion. There is no holding of applause or “respectful” silence. In fact, if the audience during a slam is dead silent you may very well suspect that something is wrong. An artist’s performance thrives off of feedback— snaps, howls, whistles, and “hell yeah’s” included. The subject matter may range from sex to bombs to sexbombs, and all things in between. Occasionally something
PHOTO BY Doug Ansel/Internet Source
as (virtually) unshocking as a simple love for one's mother is reveled with poetic verve. But leave it to a Slam poet to even throw in a few Oedipal references to the
mix, just to keep things interesting. You can never pick out a slam poet in the room just by looking at one. The perSee B.O.M.S., p. 12
Lights out for director Roman Polanski
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PHOTO FROM Internet Source
Thirty years later, I have learned to forgive and forget what had happened to me those years.
BY DANIELLE GEWURZ Editor
Last Saturday, director Roman Polanski (“Rosemary’s Baby”, “The Pianist”) was arrested in Zurich after 32 years of fleeing the American justice system. But how do we punish the artist, and what impact does that have on his art? The facts of Polanski’s case are pretty much incontrovertible. Polanski was conducting a photo shoot with a 13-year-old girl, whom he drugged with Quaaludes
and raped; she repeatedly said “no” during the encounter. Polanski was sent to prison for 40 days for a psychological evaluation after pleading guilty to a lesser crime, and then released with the understanding that he had yet to be sentenced. The judge gave Polanski permission to temporarily leave the country to finish directing a movie, and when he heard that he might be sentenced to serve additional time in prison, Polanski decided to remain abroad, and has yet to return to the United States. Polanski is not the only artist to have
committed acts that are, objectively, terrible. Artists frequently have views that are difficult to reconcile with their work, or lead troubled private lives, whether it be the anti-Semitic Ezra Pound or Michael Jackson. But that doesn’t explain the increasingly long petition signed by famous actors, directors, and producers calling for Polanski’s release. Polanski never actually served out a sentence for raping a 13 year old. He hasn’t expressed remorse for the act, and has instead had lawyers file motions to dismiss
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PHOTO FROM Internet Source
UNDER ARREST: Director Roman Polanski is currently under custody in Switzerland, awaiting extradition for sexually assaulting a minor.
the case. However, the California court ruled that Polanski would have to return to the US, face arrest, and then would have legal standing to appeal the case. If, as Polanski’s supporters claim, there is any evidence of judicial misconduct, he would no doubt prevail on appeal, with the aid of expensive counsel. The fact remains that the director has not suffered any justice, having led a perfectly normal life as a wealthy, critically acclaimed director in Europe for the past 30 years, See POLANSKI, p. 10
Diverse City 9
October 2, 2009
VISIONS
Reflections ‘Ducks’ by Ariel Wittenberg, All other scenes by Max Shay
Send your ‘visions’ to the Hoot — Email eic@thehoot.net for more information.
10 Diverse City
October 2, 2009
CHORUS
Mike Judge’s “Extract” lacks new flavor
PHOTO FROM Internet Source
JUDGE MOVIE DEJA VU: Jason Bateman and Mila Kunis make small talk in the newest Mike Judge film, which bares a striking resemblence in subject matter to his corporate-world cult classic, “Office Space.”
BY SRI KUEHNLENZ Editor
As I watched the movie “Extract,” I was prodded by a weird feeling and it wasn’t just a progressive sense of boredom. Rather it was a remarkable sense of déjà vu. Two hours and one Google search later, it clicked. It turns out that "Extract" is the product of Mike Judge, who also wrote and directed the cult classic “Office Space” ten years earlier. Perhaps it is this amount of time or “Office
Space’s” poor box office showing that persuaded Judge that audiences would not recognize the similarities between the two films. Or perhaps he thought that audiences would be overjoyed to experience another variation of the Mike Judge Movie Recipe, which is as follows: Step one: Begin with a focus on the mundane. While "Office Space" focused on the goings-on in a standard bureaucratic corporation that was so commonplace, no specification of what it actually offered was necessary. "Extract"
focuses on the internal struggles within an extract factory. I would elaborate more on what this company does, but really it’s too selfexplanatory and boring to warrant further explanation. Step two: Add an endearing protagonist who exemplifies the adage “nice guys finish last.” While "Office Space" focused on Peter Gibbons, another cog in the corporate machine, Judge slightly raises his standards in "Extract," which follows extract factory owner Joel Reynolds, played by Jason Bateman ("Arrested
Can we separate the art from the artist? POLANSKI (from p. 8)
and did not contest the victim’s account of the rape in court. Why should having made “The Pianist” justify using means and connections to flee justice? Never mind that Polanski’s plea agreement was shockingly lenient anyway. Furthermore, how should I feel about “The Pianist” when I’ve read the victim’s grand jury testimony? I listen to plenty of music with objectionable content, music riddled with sexist slurs or violent images. I vehemently disagree with the expressed viewpoints of these artists, and I of course have the option not to pay for this music, or not promote the artist, or not attend their concerts. I’ve probably done all three. But that’s the content of the art itself. As far as I know, Polanski’s movies do not depict or endorse drugging and raping young girls (well, arguably, the horror of “Rosemary’s Baby” rests in a similar idea of using and abusing a woman’s body, but it’s not presented as acceptable or in any way mitigated). Is it possible to separate the art from the artist? I don’t think there’s a problem in appreciating the content of the art as divorced from the identity of the creator. Art, once
completed, is its own entity. Flannery O’Connor’s work can be analyzed and appreciated despite the fact that she was a racist. I can even sing along to “Ignition (Remix)” because it’s brilliant, even though I’m quite aware of R. Kelly’s legal troubles. Objectionable messages within art are considered when judging the work’s merit. But what about purchasing the movie? If I buy a Polanski film, Polanski makes money off my purchase. For all I know, that money goes to his legal defense, and I don’t really want to be supporting his efforts to avoid punishment. Even if Polanski’s victim is understandably tired of the media circus surrounding the case, he ought to be prosecuted for fleeing from justice. As one blogger put it, “Don’t give money to the rapist!” When it comes down to it, the very same divorce that lets us appreciate art even though we know the artist was a Nazi sympathizer means that we must also disregard someone’s artistic output when deciding to punish them. It’s disappointing that luminaries from Sam Mendes to Salman Rushdie have signed petitions to free Polanski, es-
pecially when petitions lead off with a mention of his directorial acumen and that he was arrested on his way to receive a lifetime achievement award at a film festival. But much of that work being honored was produced while Polanski was on the lam. The very idea of justice reaching even the very most powerful means that we should strive to treat society’s wealthiest, most productive, or in this case, most talented members in the exact same fashion as its poorest members. We’re light-years away from that goal, obviously. It’s for the courts to decide an appropriate punishment, but in order for that to happen, Polanski needs to have his day in American courts, rather than trying to have the case dismissed while he stays abroad. Now is the best opportunity. Though equality isn’t insured simply by his return to American custody, it’s a critical first step to demonstrating that rape is a serious crime, and neither wealth nor notoriety nor fleeing jurisdiction can erase that. Most importantly, once the legal case is actually settled, perhaps we can finally leave the victim to live in peace, following 30 years of relentless coverage of her assault.
Development"). However, Judge is sure to balance out Joel’s professional success with personal failures. Despite his place of authority within the factory, it is clear that Joel is walked on by everyone he meets, from the woman who operates the conveyor belt at the factory to his neighbor who forces him into an agonizing ten minute conversation, resulting in the unwilling decision that Joel will attend a charity dinner with him. Step three: Mix in a host of quirky personalities with too many character flaws to count and blend thoroughly with the protagonist. At home, Joel’s marriage to Suzie, a coupon designer played by Kristin Wiig ("Saturday Night Live") is stuck in a deep rut without any sign of coming out. In the workplace, Joel must daily resolve the petty struggles between the conveyor belt operator who has the screeching voice of an indignant grandma and Step, played by Clifton Collins Jr., who, despite his lack of any official title or a proper set of teeth for that matter, struts around bragging about his packing skills. Then there is Ben Affleck, arguably the biggest name in the movie, who appears to have taken the part as a throwback to his "Mallrats" days. He plays Dean, Joel’s best friend and a bartender at a hotel chain with a connection in every form of vice. However, at this point Affleck only caricatures his former self rather than recapturing the youthful enthusiasm he had before rising to fame with "Good Will Hunting."
However, the real trouble begins when Cindy, played by Mila Kunis ("That 70’s Show"), comes to town after hearing about a factory accident in which an injured Step put in a position to sue the company. Can you say “gold digger”? Cindy stages a run-in with Step and convinces him that instead of graciously not pressing charges against the extract company, he should sue them for all they're worth. The trouble that Joel is about to find himself in only deepens when, in her effort to track down Step, Cindy begins working in the factory and Joel becomes convinced that she is flirting with him. Dean, being the guardian of morals that he is, persuades Joel that the most prudent idea would be to hire a male prostitute to entice his wife into cheating on him, so that he is thus free to cheat as well. Once again, Judge reveals his nice guy protagonist to not be so moral after all. Just as Peter in "Office Space" conspires to embezzle money from his company, Joel also turns to conspiracy and deceit to try to stop his life from becoming a complete failure. Sure, it’s ten years later and Judge’s protagonist is slightly wealthier and professionally established, but his story of "nice guy goes bad, then good, and everything turns out peachy keen" is stale. Like new computer software, "Extract" improves upon some of the glitches of the original, but lacks the same kick.
Poetry
Theospeaker BY SAMANTHA SHOKIN Editor
Your words are empty, as are mine, but claim themselves to be sublime; pious praise, and blinded gaze by cataracts of light-divine. “Why are we here, the end is near” Your empty phrases are quite smug and claim you know what we should fear and what should make our heartstrings tug, but Drugged. That’s what we are but aren’t, Were but weren’t, off of lies. Sucked into a current from an ocean now that we despise. Where are you now, our savior? You took our trust, blew faerie dust… Our troubador, Xavier? …on wounds ballooned with pious pus. Festering within with lust for something inside each of us.
Diverse City 12
October 2, 2009
ENDNOTE
Bullseye offers a whole new view BY ALISON CHANNON Editor
Life lessons come in odd places. Sometimes you find them beneath the chuppah at your cousin’s wedding, as I did nearly a month ago, and sometimes you find them inside of an Irish pub on your friend’s 21st birthday. Last Saturday evening, I boarded the 8 p.m. shuttle to Boston to cele-
brate the 21st year of my beloved friend’s life. Birthdays are always fun, but this birthday, the year when the world of over-priced alcohol becomes your oyster, is even better. All of a sudden, what was forbidden is now a possibility, and if you decide to stay out past 10 p.m. in Boston, there’s actually something to do. Beyond the normal exhilaration one feels on
such an epic day, I was particularly excited because this celebration marked my first 21st birthday party since I came of age in June. As the youngest of three sisters, I relish those few moments in life when I’m not the baby, when I am the older and the wiser. But while I am both old (seriously people, I am graduating
in May) and wise (have you seen how graceful I am under pressure?), there was little need for my mature insights and words of wisdom that Saturday night. In fact, instead of teaching my friend the ways of the legal drinking world, I was the one schooled in a very important art – the game of darts. Now, though I understand that darts are a competition where one scores points, I hesitate to call it a sport. A sport, figure skating for example, requires agility and athleticism. Darts, on the other hand, requires booze and an imagination that can envision the face of a sworn enemy on a bull’s eye. Had I a sense of these two fundamental dartplaying requirements prior to my initiation into the game, I would not have been so reluctant to play. I have never been good at sports. I wasn’t good at kickball in middle school gym and I never scored a goal when I played in the American Youth Soccer Organization. Junior high gym class was a nightmare. My badminton skills were decent but my basketball, baseball, and volleyball skills were non-existent. And in a seriously appalling moment of seventh grade horror, I was hit in the head with a hockey puck (don’t worry, it was hollow but no less embarrassing). For these reasons,
and I’m sure many others, I have an aversion to sports and anything that approaches a sport. And so, when my friend’s significant other roped me into a game of darts (“come on, it’s Sarah’s birthday, Alison”), I had no choice but to forget my dignity, and throw my hat in the ring. My first attempts at darts were atrocious to say the least. And yes, I was vaguely mortified. But after a fellow birthday partier suggested I imagine a face on the bull’s eye, my game steadily improved. I grew more confident as my darts began to not only hit the board, but actually land in high scoring locations. Maybe it’s silly, but my darts proficiency was an eye opener of sorts. Certainly, my whole outlook on life hasn’t changed and I most assuredly have not decided to take up tackle football, or any other athletic pursuit for that matter. But I do see now that I have a tendency to shy away from trying things I don’t think I’ll be good at, simply because I don’t want to embarrass myself. And while I think the self-preservation instinct is a good one, it can sometimes act less to preserve and more to hinder personal development. So perhaps the final lesson I take from my foray into the world of darts is not one of risk-taking but one of openness; openness to new experiences and all the joy and humiliation they may bring.
B.O.M.S. slam B.O.M.S (from p. 8)
a n o s u n i o J f a? i o d n e a f m l a a e i c m o o Like s ook! Bec Faceb
formers range in their styles and influences as much as they range in appearance—which is to say, a lot. Tuesday’s feature performer, California native and Emerson student, George Watsky, wouldn’t strike you as particularly standout-ish in appearance. He could easily pull off the “average college kid” look or, to type-cast a bit, maybe even “average college geek”—but I say that without the slightest disparagement and with utmost respect. If Watsky epitomizes geek, we should all strive to be geeks when we grow up. Or else just skip the hierarchy and strive to be George Watsky when we grow up. Watsky has a skinny frame and boyish face but his voice packs a serious punch. His phrases rise and fall with crescendos and at times it’s hard to mentally keep up with his staggering speech. It may be the slight lisp that contributes to this effect, but the speed of Watsky’s slam is very rapid, while every line is expertly crafted. That, and his creative use of stage “props”—(placing the mic to various body parts to depict how he loves with his body), telling hand gestures, and choice sound effects to boot, make for a very entertaining and enlightening slamsperience. It won’t take long for you to realize that this guy is seriously gifted with words, and it won’t take much longer for you to realize that he’s a comedian, too—gathering nearly as much laughter as he does applause. By the end of the night, snaps and claps were erupting all around. B.O.M.S. nights are always an experience, and always unforgettable. Whether from a featured artist or from one of Brandeis’ own, these individual contributions to the communal vibe are what make the scene so special, and without doubt, always enjoyable.