FILM
RESTLESS
Dir. Gus Van Sant
The latest venture by director Gus Van Sant (Milk, Good Will Hunting), Restless tells the story of Enoch (Henry Hopper), who falls in love with terminally ill and beautifully boyish Annabel (Mia Wasikowska). Through their relationship and his friendship with a ghost-pilot named Hiroshi (Ryo Kase), Enoch comes to terms with the concept of mortality.
Enoch and Annabel’s bond develops quickly, and the film is contained to their intimate world of pocket watches, bird classification, and small talk with spirits. Though the two have a certain amount of audience appeal, their dialogue and behaviour is so deliberately obscure that they become a formulaic caricature of a hipster couple.
The film boasts a pleasant soundtrack, featuring music by Sufjan Stevens and The Beatles, and wonderfully vintage wardrobes. While Wasikowska gives a noteworthy and charming performance as proponent of life Annabel, Hopper is less impressive with his moody portrayal of death-obsessed Enoch. The result is a shaky attempt at srtaddling whimsy and morbidity that ultimately falls short. The film is a visual delight with a satisfying ending and intriguing characters, but overall it ends up feeling like a stock indie flick in its failure to emotionally affect its audience.
— Danielle Klein
MUSIC
RELAX
Das Racist
Following Shut Up, Dude and Sit Down, Man, rap satirists Das Racist are now telling people to Relax. Known for being hyper-referential — alluding to anything from Finnegan’s Wake to The Simpsons — and dropping clever lines like, “Not Able? Cain’ll do,” their newest album lacks the lyrical ferocity seen in their earlier work. Obvious gags include, “She’s got a booty in the air like an airplane,” and “It’s a brand new dance / Give us all your money,” but the irony is waning. The goofy intentions are concealed by the album’s stellar production value, which delivers sensuous layered beats — perfect for those who tune out the lyrics. With a roster of notable producers, Das Racist delivers an album about “Tiny ass hamburgers” at White Castle and offers booty call anthems like, “You don’t got to give me no instructions, baby / You know what I wanna do,” which are hilarious — but when compared to previous works, it seems like the band isn’t having as much fun.
— Jakob Tanner
AFTERIMAGE
Recovery Child
Recovery Child’s new album Afterimage is overflowing with heavy guitar and vocals that are uncomfortably reminiscent of Nickelback. Don’t expect anything revolutionary: it’s a decidedly generic, moody rock record. The album starts off with a simple, melancholic intro that is completely at odds with the rest of the album. After this misleading start, the first three tracks are disappointingly unimaginative and repetitive. The record begins to pick up at “Bury Your Words,” a climactic ballad with the album’s most emotionally tangible vocal performance. “I Will Defend” gives the listener a break from the angst — if you don’t listen to the lyrics too closely. The true highlight of the album is its last track, “Moments Not Worth Remembering,” a stripped-down acoustic ballad, simple and raw. But ultimately, Afterimage is a record that we’ve all heard a million times before.
— Nishi Kumar
ART
THE INEXHAUSTIBLE IMAGE
Angela Grauerholz
University of Toronto Art Centre’s latest exhibit, The Inexhaustible Image, is a serene and calm presentation of the Angela Grauerholz’s photography and personal belongings. The exhibit offers an escape from the monotonous stresses of life into a place of unsophisticated beauty. The exhibit includes a catalogue of book covers she recovered from her apartment after it caught fire in the nineties, and there are many candid shots, from calm gardens to unfocused portraits. Many of her images are black and white and are left unclear to express the concept of memory. Grauerholz captures the moment in her images, but also recalls the past; her belongings in the exhibit give insight into her life and pleasures. This exhibit is certainly worth exploring — one can easily find solitude in Grauerholz’s world of moments and memories that are beautifully and elegantly rendered.
— Alessia Mocella
