Wes Anderson’s “Isle of Dogs” is a visual spectacle that never quite escapes the stereotypes of a large-budget Hollywood release. Set in a near-future Japan, an authoritarian leader banishes all canines from Megasaki City to Trash Island after a vicious virus spreads through the population. These dogs, many of them afflicted by the virus, are left to fend for themselves in a post-apocalyptic landscape complete with ruined amusement and industrial parks. Atari, a young boy under the guardianship of Japan’s leader, steals away one night in search of his lost dog, Spots. He crash lands on Trash Island and is rescued by five alpha-male dogs: Rex, King, Duke, Boss, and Chief.

The film that follows divides its attention between Atari and his rescuers, Mayor Kobayashi (the leader of Megasaki City), a team of scientists aiming to cure the virus and a student protest group headed by an American foreign exchange student. While “Isle of Dogs” may seem interested in following the activities of a human ensemble, it instead relies on the dogs to bring personality to this film with a mix of personal tragedy and abuse, along with joyous and absurd character traits.

This is particularly evident in Chief (Bryan Cranston) who, as his name might imply, takes front and center stage in the film. Anderson has dedicated much of his budget to the outstanding stop-motion visuals of “Isle of Dogs.” Chief is a mangy stray, but the movements rendered in the frame-by-frame motion suggest a history of living tooth-and-nail where he has always come out on top, but never without scars. Cranston further explores the character with his wide vocal range from the gruff street brawler to pampered hound. While the other dogs are all lovable, they act more as a mirror with which to further explore the solitary Chief.

The visual splendor of “Isle of Dogs” must also be applauded. It is an artistic celebration not only of Japanese art, but also of Wes Anderson’s own unique distortion of stop-motion. The origins of this can be seen in Anderson’s 2009 masterpiece, “Fantastic Mr. Fox,” which shares a similar character aesthetic. “Isle of Dogs” also uses stop-motion to subvert audience expectations. In the character introductions, one of the dogs bites off another’s ear. While it is not needlessly graphic, there is blood spilled, and later the ear is seen being dragged off by rats. These images are startlingly out of place in an animation, that it immediately draws viewers in. Indeed, “Isle of Dogs” is not a children’s film; it deals with adult themes including depression, suicide, sex, commitment and even genocide.

However, “Isle of Dogs” is not without noticeable flaws, the greatest being the characterization of the American foreign exchange student, Tracy Walker (Greta Gerwig). The film may concentrate on the dogs, but when it is examining politics, it does so through the vocal Japanese student protest group which, for some unknown reason, is led by Walker. While her fellow students play key roles in the final plan to overthrow Kobayashi, Walker is ultimately the savior of the day–a white savior character. There is no reason why she needed to be non-Japanese to see through the veil of propaganda, and yet it is Walker, of all the human characters, that gains the most personality.

This problem is further confounded by Anderson’s sparse use of subtitles or translators. Only when it is absolutely necessary to further the plot does the film offer some form of translation. This leads to Atari, at least to non-Japanese speakers, appearing to be a character of little to no characteristics. Without dialogue to suggest intent, Atari never evolves from the commanding little brat he is first introduced as.

“Isle of Dogs” is easy to be visually amazed by, but a non-linear plot and over-reliance on Tracy Walker makes the film a disappointing addition to the repertoire of a stunning filmmaker.

Sadie, Penny and Geo, all portrayed by Whitman students, lie motionless on a few threadbare carpets. Ocean circles them, her eyes drifting over the audience; she is dressed in the sea-green of the tormented ocean. The others are more traditionally Northwest: leather jackets, ripped and patched jeans and high top boots. Above these actors, twinkling lights shine in the semi-darkness of the Barn, an art studio cooperative located at Twelfth and Alder in Walla Walla. From behind the audience, a band enters the quiet with the first strains of a song inspired by “Dream in Blue” by the Stray Birds.

“love letters to the world as we would have it” is a play written by senior Kenzie Spooner that explores the intricacies of love, real and imagined, in contemporary culture. Spooner explained the thought behind it.

“I wrote the play to be a ritual for grounding,” Spooner said. “It’s been a difficult couple of months and so I wrote a play that creates a space where you can just be. I think I wrote that part of the play specifically for the queer and trans community that I am a part of. It was a way to be in this little blue, starry bubble for a second and take a break from the world.”

First-year Eva Sullivan, playing the edgy and skeptical Sadie, was intrigued by the indistinct barrier between audience and actors in this play.

“The fact [is] that it isn’t really like a play,” Sullivan said. “It’s not even that we break the fourth wall of the show, but that there isn’t a fourth wall. It doesn’t feel like a play really. It feels like just a piece of art that we are sharing with the audience. So yeah, I kind of felt that when I first read it because it read much more like poetry than like a scene. I loved that – that [Spooner] wanted to turn what seems like a collection of poems into a performance.”

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Chloe Carothers-Liske

This poetry of language manifests itself in the style of love letters read to the audience by most members of the cast. In fact, the origins of the piece lie in these love letters written from the director to a variety of people.

“Part of [the play] is a collection of love letters that I’ve written to various people, real and imaginary, over the course of the last year,” Spooner said. “None of them were ever sent. The play is a meditation on the muse and on the idea of this unknown beloved – this person that you don’t necessarily know at all, but you can project anything you want onto this concept of the beloved. You can write to them or at them, and how that all changes when they start writing back.”

Senior Noah Yaconelli, in the role of a Portland-style hipster named Geo, read several of these letters directly to members of the audience, as if imprinting them with features of the Beloved. Not only did this bring the audience into the world of the play, but it also highlighted the poignant nature of this disjointed and beautiful story.

Whitman alum Andy Monserud attended the Thursday performance to support several of his friends.

“I thought the language of the play itself was awesome, and the music as well was excellent,” Monserud said. “I really dug the vibe of it, and I feel like we live in a very apocalyptic time and the play sort of captured that, and got some sort of, if not uniformly hopeful, optimistic ideas out of it.”

“love letters to the world as we would have it” is Spooner’s first play. With its contemporary discussions of love, hurt, fear and loneliness, Spooner demonstrates their ability to capture the human experience and recreate it before an audience in the loft of a barn, where the stars are strings of Christmas lights, and the words spoken are as much the throws of a passionate lover, as they are of college student wary of the greater world where the darkness seems all the more apparent. Take it from Kenzie Spooner – there are always ways to find hope.

“I tend to – when I leave Walla Walla – just go somewhere and I’ll just fall in love with a stranger for a day or a week,” Spooner said. “It’s in the play, but one time I fell in love with all six members of a bluegrass band playing at a farmers market just for fun, just because it’s an outlet for that kind of emotion, and it’s a beautiful thing to feel, and I can write about it.”

Whitman alumni have gone on to succeed in many of their ambitions and projects, and Hannah Bartman ‘16 is no exception. She is one of the many artists involved in the new art studio cooperative that opened on Sunday, April 8. The cooperative, known as The Barn, serves a dual purpose: it offers studio space for young resident artists and it hosts pop-up exhibits for the public. The Wire sat down with Bartman to get a sense of her background and what her goals with The Barn are.

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Chloe Carothers-Liske

Whitman Wire: What did you major in while you were at Whitman?

Hannah Bartman: I majored in art – studio art. Initially I was going to major in sociology, then I studied abroad and realized that I really wanted to do art. The art program here is amazing – we have an amazing facility. It was kind of something I always wanted but was too afraid to do. I just love making things.

WW: What did you do after graduating from Whitman?

HB: I actually moved to North Carolina for about five months. I had an internship at this museum called “Elsewhere,” which is like an amazing alternative museum … It’s all open to the public, and artists come and live in the second floor for a month and make a project with all the stuff that is already there. It was like an artist maker space/museum. We did lots of community engagement – lots of political and social justice things that were really amazing. That’s what drew my interest to making The Barn, this alternative form of living, because there was living art everywhere you looked.

WW: Can you give me a brief overview of what The Barn is and what it offers to the community?

HB: I want to preface this by saying it is in its super beginning stages … It’s interesting because all of the artists have a different idea of what it will be. For me, I want it to be a cooperative studio art-making and performing space. There are so many different types of artists coming in, and I’m a visual artist, so I also want it to be my studio space. I’d also like it to be a pop-up gallery space. I think what it really comes down to is that it’ll be a free space for people to create things however they see it, and trying to make a cooperative organization to structure things. I’m hoping it becomes something different every day.

WW: How many other artists are you working with?

HB: It’s interesting because it’s a physical structure, so there’s people that are renting it, so I have to pay for it. There’s about seven of us now that are actually involved in the structure, but the amount of people that come and go and are involved with it is expanding. This event (the opening) is really going to help with that too; it’s really gotten the word out there.

WW: What brought you back to Walla Walla?

HB: I really missed the community here; it’s so hard to find a place like this. I’m from L. A. so I’m from a big city, but I’m really involved with arts in Walla Walla. I’m on the board of Art Walla, and I love to do community events, so I think it’s really important, especially now, in a time where everyone feels so disconnected and powerless. I think that Walla Walla really had that community involvement and gathering, as well as the ability to be productive in a cooperative. All these things brought me back here, and made me more invested in the community. Walla Walla is just so amazing, it allows me do something like this. I can get a barn and make art with my friends. It’s really hard to do that elsewhere. It just has a lot to offer.

WW: How do you think your Whitman education, and your time here, fed into creating this experience?

HB: I think I’m trying to recreate my senior experience where we have these studios. When you go into the art building there are the senior studios on the bottom and the top floors, and you literally just get a studio space that you can go to whenever you want and make art. You’re just making art with your friends, and then you get together and do critiques, so you are always in dialogue with someone. That is just so helpful, because when I left college, I had spaces to make art, but no one to talk to about it with, so it doesn’t really exist. I missed that community. Even when everyone’s art is different, you can still talk about what you’ve been doing, and already my own practice has become so much more productive now that I have this shared space.

Activist and poet Reverend Daniel Berrigan visited Whitman campus twice, once in the 1970s and again in the early 1980s. Each time, he directed a dramatic reading of “The Trial of the Catonsville Nine.” Two years after his death, his political theater has returned to the Harper Joy Theatre under the direction of Jessica Cerullo, the Whitman Assistant Director of Theatre. The production ran from Thursday, March 1, to Sunday, March 4.

Patrick Henry, a friend of Daniel Berrigan and a retired Whitman professor of philosophy and literature, was amazed by the performance. He had attended three of Berrigian’s dramatic readings in the past, but was so enthused by Cerullo’s direction that he attended this adaption twice.

“[Before], all we had was a reading of the play,” Henry said. “Jessica’s version was brilliant and it was so powerful–it used the whole theater. It wasn’t even possible in listening to the readings to imagine the power of this production. I think it was just terrific.”

On May 17, 1968, nine Catholic anti-war activists removed 378 draft files from the draft board in Catonsville, Maryland. In the parking lot, they doused the papers in napalm and set them ablaze. While protest is protected under the Constitution, the nine were found guilty of destruction of U.S. property, destruction of Selective Service files and interference with the Selective Service Act of 1967. The play “The Trial of the Catonsville Nine” recalls their trial, written by Berrigan in free verse. History has remembered the Catonsville Nine as the Catonsville Two–Daniel and his brother, Philip Berrigan–while the others have faded out of memory.

In his letter to The Wire, Henry wrote, “The production gives equal billing to the forgotten Catonsville Seven. In the first act, among other strategies, slides depict images of the seven at the time of the trial. In the second act, all nine characters speak from the audience and from behind the audience so that we hear one collective voice of protest that doesn’t prioritize any single voice.”

While “The Trial of the Catonsville Nine” focuses on the court case of 1968, many of the phrases, images and sounds in the play are distinct reminders of our current political climate.

“Dan would have loved the play because at the same time that the production captures the mood of the time 50 years ago when the action of the play took place, it refuses to allow us to watch it solely as a phenomenon unraveling in the past,” Henry said. “From the very first song, ‘We Are Here,’ we are directly confronted with similar issues (poverty, racism, American imperialism) present in our contemporary world and forced to ask ourselves why we are not collectively protesting these same conditions in our world as the persons on stage are doing in theirs.”

The theater department chose to include protest songs of all eras in the production, none of which were written into the original play, to bridge the gap between the Nine and the protests that have spread across the United States.

“We’ve done some things with the play that you won’t find in the script, that is, we have paralleled a history of protest music alongside and on top of the play,” Cerullo said. “So there is a past and a present with our production where you can very much hear and see five people dressed in modern day clothes who are college students next to actor’s embodying historical figures in the play. You can see moments in the play when the Berrigans’ are talking about ‘the resisters’ and we show images not just of the resisters of the Vietnam War but of resisters pre and post-Vietnam. We have incorporated images as recent as the news last week with students in the wake of the Parkland shooting.”

Actress Emma Cooper portrays poet, activist and playwright Daniel Berrigan. She was also the dramaturge for “The Trial of the Catonsville Nine.” She spoke about how the production brought her to a deeper understanding of political theater.

“This play really clarified for me what it meant to make political theater. It’s like, political theater is not meant to be safe,” Cooper said. “There’s this line between saying something and being respectful, and it’s a constant pushing and tension against what that line is. I guess, I had never been made uncomfortable in a way to where I had to think about: is this a message that I think is important enough for me to say? If I rustle some feathers on campus, what’s going to happen? That was something I’d never had to confront because the last show I did was a comedy.”

The Whitman production of “The Trial of the Catonsville Nine” succeeds not only in being a brilliant performance, but also in capturing the essence of protest in an era of unrest. Henry wrote, “I only wish that Dan would have been next to me in the theatre. He would have been as exhilarated and elated as I was.”

Thursday, Feb. 15 marked the first evening of Whitman’s annual One Act Play Festival performances. Thirty years after its inception, the festival continues to be an opportunity for student performers, designers and directors to bring three, student-written plays to the stage. This year, the three plays were “Spoon,” written by sophomore Rose Heising Lindstrom, “More is More,” written by senior Jordan Miller and “Hand of a Star,” written by junior Dani Schlenker.

The evening kicked off with “Spoon,” that was directed by junior Donovan Olsen. Olsen described the premise of the play.

“‘Spoon’ is about how a slightly dysfunctional family tries to comfort their recent college graduate, Peter, after he’s rejected for a job as an astronaut due to being a chain smoker,” Olsen said. “While his mother, Judith, tries to calm him down, his sister Leann suggests they burn his NASA tattoo off with a hot spoon, which ends up being the climax of the play.”

Unfortunately, Olsen suffered a concussion the first day of dress rehearsal. This did not stop the success of the performances, though, that emerged as humorous and witty.

“The best moment of directing ‘Spoon’ was the first performance I saw, which was actually the final Sunday matinee show,” Olsen said. “It was amazing to come back to the show after missing a week and see how well the actors and stage manager had maintained the piece we’d created together. That was also my first time watching the show with other people, so getting to see audience reactions was gratifying and encouraging. When I saw the cast after the show, I said, ‘You made people laugh! We did what we set out to do!’”

As another student director, sophomore Kate Swisher had the joy of adapting “More is More” from script to stage performance.

“It doesn’t really have a clear plot,” Swisher said. “[Jordan Miller] described it more as a stream of consciousness when he was writing it. It explores themes of body image and inequality about how people who are bigger are targeted and made to feel bad. So my take on it was very creative and imaginative.”

While Swisher’s fellow directors were given clear stage directions to go along with the dialogue, she was not. She often had to adapt a line to her own stylistic choices.

“At first I was very nervous about it,” Swisher said. “My style of directing in the past has been more realistic then abstract than this. It was a super abstract script and I was super nervous. I called him and I had all these questions. He was like, ‘you need to figure it out, it’s in your hands; do what you want with that line or that character.’ It was a lot of pressure.”

While “More is More” was a particularly abstract play, it offered a strong discourse on weight and what it is to be “more than normal” or even “normal.” Despite the seemingly playful nature of its setting, this was a piece that resonates in a country that has, and will continue to contend with issues of body image.

In contrast, the script of “Hand of a Star” was well-detailed and allowed director senior Kristina Roy to focus more on casting and trying to communicate with the writer, Schlenker, who is currently studying abroad. While this may have hampered the necessary conversations to bring “Hand of a Star” to the stage, the Orwellian future offers a topical critique.

‘Hand of a Star’ written by Dani Schlenker and directed by Kristina Roy won the One Acts competition. Pictured here are Chloe Hood (left) and Ella Meyers (right). Photo contributed by Kristina Roy.

“It’s about two young women who are trying to find their important place in the world,” Roy said. “They find that they care too much about everything that happens around them and they encounter some characters who want them to stop caring about everything so much.”

She went on to praise the writing of Schlenker, as well as the efforts of her cast and crew.

“It’s a really great script; I had a fair vision of the characters from the script,” Roy said. “I think it really all came together once we had it cast.”

“Hand of a Star,” with its dark neo-English future, medicine men selling apathy, brainwashed soldiers, fourth wall-breaking dialogue and two women craving adventure, was a passionate appeal to the politics and nature of the real world.

Overall, the One Act Play Festival offers a space where students can experiment with their own ideas and bring them to life on the stage. The three plays that filled out the 2018 festival showed a want to engage with contemporary issues, and while each was unique in its artistic vision and its writing, they came together as a cohesive discourse.

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Elle Pollock

On Friday, February 3, comedian Hari Kondabolu took to the stage in Reid basement to deliver a brilliant range of liberal arts-themed jokes. He began the evening with a clever discussion of the college’s namesake, then moved into themes surrounding race, gender, religion and even mangoes. While not every joke hit its mark, those that did were met with raucous laughter and applause.

Whitman Senior Megan Hearst spoke excitedly about the style of humor that Kondabolu brought to his stand-up comedy.

“It’s the perfect sort of humor for a liberal arts school. It’s multidisiplinary,” Hearst said. “It harkens back to some nerdy shit, and some deep shit.”

These same sentiments were echoed by first-year Spencer Thulin.

“The complexity of his jokes – he had some jokes that I could’ve sworn would go nowhere, the abstract art one – he was all over the place and I thought he was lost, but then he just brought it all together just like that, and so I was very impressed by that,” Thulin said.

Kondabolu seemed intent on satirizing and deconstructing the pillars of a liberal arts college. He himself studied at Bowdoin College, a similarly small liberal arts college in Brunswick, Maine. This familiarity with the atmosphere and institutions of the college allowed him to not only connect with the audience, but also to target many of the issues that Whitman students debate every single day, including race, gender, economic inequality, freedom of speech and religious zealotry.

Whitman senior Erin Minus enjoyed hearing these frustrations finally expressed.

“It’s nice to hear someone else who is also a little bit frustrated with a community that can be very homogeneous,” Minus said.

One of the best features of liberal arts colleges is the forum that it creates; while Kondabolu expressed his happiness for this, he also attacked the notion of devil’s advocacy, which can often plague conversations or fail to add anything meaningful to the discussion.

“He would say things that everyone’s thought about like, for example, the devil’s advocate thing – everyone has known that person in their class that will use it to say something awful then claim devil’s advocate,” Thulin said.

This treatment of liberal arts tropes was furthered by Kondabolu’s willingness to say what everyone else is unwilling to. He, like many comedians, uses the stage to discuss the issues that are rarely brought to the surface, as well as those that are left to the political theater. With this performance, Kondabolu showed that comedy is an effective means of discussing more complex issues.

On Thursday, January 25, Planned Parenthood celebrated the 45th anniversary of the Supreme Court Case “Roe v. Wade” with a fundraiser at El Corazon Winery. Though the event was not specifically geared towards Whitman College students, members of the Planned Parenthood Generation Action club were invited to attend, as were certain members of the Walla Walla community.

Contributed by Kylin Brown
Whitman senior Kaitie Dong is a member of the Planned Parenthood Board of Advocates of Walla Walla.

“I volunteer and help organize events,” Dong said. “We’ve done some voter registration and outreach in the past, and try to promote education and do fundraising.”

Taylor Wolf, the community organizer for Planned Parenthood and the organizer of the fundraiser, emphasized the role of students within the organization. She works with both Planned Parenthood Generation Action and the Planned Parenthood Board of Advocates.

“It is important for Whitman students and young people in general to volunteer at Planned Parenthood because they are our future,” Wolf said. “We try to offer Planned Parenthood Generation Action opportunities to learn more about political advocacy, such as attending Lobby Day in Olympia. This specific opportunity engages activists from across Washington State to meet with Legislators to ensure funding and access to critical reproductive health services. We also keep the students up-to-date about legislation that affects health care and how they can be resources on campus.”

Kaitie Dong also commented on the changes wrought by America’s political climate.

“I am, of course, disappointed that Planned Parenthood and reproductive rights have been under fire, have been questioned, and are at risk of losing federal funding, as well as validation, but I think that all the support that [Planned Parenthood] has been receiving recently is good,” Dong said. “This has been an issue for a long time, and I think that visibility and recognition is important. So, in that sense, I feel like people are more willing to donate time and effort because of the recent threat of federal funding [being cut] and the devaluation of it.”Contributed by Kylin Brown

First-year Ari Louie is a member of Planned Parenthood Generation Action. She stressed that the group works to provide opportunities for students to participate in activism and fundraisers.

“We are planning some events,” said Louie, “and it can be anything from an activist event where we might be doing a phone bank or a fundraiser to give money to Planned Parenthood to keep our clinics open. Or we might be doing an event [based on the month]. It’s February, it’s going to be Valentines Day, so let’s have events for how to have a fun Valentines Day, whether that’s with a partner or with yourself. Or maybe an event where you make Valentines either for yourself or for someone else. There’s a wide range for us to put on.”

Madison Wray, another member of Planned Parenthood Generation Action, displayed the role of Planned Parenthood on a national and micro level. In an email to The Wire, she emphasized its effects on the Whitman community.

“Planned Parenthood obviously plays an incredibly important role nationwide, providing 4 million plus people with access to affordable, quality, non-judgmental healthcare, regardless of one’s gender identity, sexual orientation, citizenship status, income, race, et cetera,” Wray said. “[It is] really important at Whitman, because students arrive at school with astoundingly diverse levels of knowledge and understanding when it comes to sexual health and consent, and it is only once students’ collective understanding of sexual health and consent is calibrated that we can feel equipped and empowered to hold one another to a higher standard for guaranteeing safety on our campus. So in that regard, the role that Planned Parenthood plays on the Whitman campus is really profound.”

Rian Johnson’s “Star Wars: The Last Jedi” (2017) is the antithesis of J. J. Abrams’ “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” (2015). “The Force Awakens” was a nostalgia trip for old fans and an easily digestible introduction for new fans. In 2015, audiences met new faces as well as old, but the shining stars of the show were Rey (Daisy Ridley), Finn (John Boyega) and Poe (Oscar Isaac). While “The Force Awakens” did rekindle the global phenomenon of Star Wars, fans were distraught by its adherence to “Star Wars: A New Hope” (1977), as well as divided by the new villains: The First Order–a veritable rehash of the Empire armed with another variant of the Death Star–and Sith apprentice, Kylo Ren (Adam Driver).

Illustration by Catalina Burch

Rian Johnson’s “The Last Jedi” was teased over nine months ago with a short clip of Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) bathed in shadow and saying, “It’s time for the Jedi to end.” Clips of a more thoughtful Star Wars film, one that was more interested in its characters than paying homage to its predecessors, preceded this. Of course, there were lightsabers, Jedi, Sith, rebels and stormtroopers–all quintessential parts of Star Wars–but within these tropes was a refreshing newness that “The Force Awakens” did not possess. Rian Johnson’s acknowledgment of the past movie’s faults are all channeled through Luke’s prophetic acknowledgment of the end of the Jedi. Fans then, will be happy to know that not only does Johnson remedy some of the most heinous failures of Abrams, but also tells a fresh and compelling Star Wars story.

“Star Wars: The Last Jedi” is a spectacular example of what the Star Wars universe and canon allows. The opening crawl is necessitated by design, but the star battle that follows manages to not only develop Isaac’s character, but also set the pace. The rebel fleet is on the run from the First Order, and Rey–a Force-user–seeks the training of Luke Skywalker, far from the reach of either side. The premise is decidedly simple for a film that goes on to break the standards set by J. J. Abrams. Not only is “The Last Jedi” a more mature and intricate film than its predecessor, but it is also more humorous. While Star Wars has toyed with humor in the past, this is the first time that the formula has truly succeeded. Hamill, with his quick wit and endless jabs at Rey, ends up being the origin of many of these on-screen laughs; this may also be his strongest on-screen performance.

The space battles are epic in scale and design, the story is tightly controlled by the differentiation between light and darkness, the special and practical effects are absolutely astounding and the lead actresses and actors fully engage the audience in the plights of their characters. This is a Star Wars film that fires on all cylinders for most of its run time.

The movie still possesses the occasional problem. The largest of these is found in the effort to cram one to many social critiques into the middle act. Finn and Rose (Kelly Marie Tran)–an engineer aboard the rebel fleet–go to a casino-like city known as Canto Bight to find a master code breaker. Not only does this feel like a rip-off of Jabba’s palace and the cantina, but it also forces the audience to endure an overwrought chase scene. On top of that, the film does its best to comment on the culture of war profiteering in which both the “good guys” and the “bad guys” are actually being played by the rich. To add insult to injury, “The Last Jedi” then wastes Benicio Del Toro’s character, a generic rogue who helps Finn and Rose to escape the cantina, to further the message. It is a small mistake in a joyous movie, but it does grate upon an otherwise polished experience.

“Star Wars: The Last Jedi” is an enormous amount of fun as well as a breath of fresh air for the franchise. Not only does it play upon the tried and true tropes, but it does so in an enriching way. Johnson’s film also boasts one of the greatest melees in Star Wars history, as well as a set piece that will surely have you poised on the edge of your seat. For fans of the new trilogies or the old, this is a must-watch. It might be more Star Wars, but it’s some of the best Star Wars to appear in the last few years.

KWCW’s open mics allow members of the Whitman and Walla Walla communities to demonstrate their talents within an intimate space. On November 30, musicians, comedians and poets took their place in Kimball Theater for one such open mic. They relaxed as the first musician, Corey Cogley, took to the stage.

Cogley, a music theory major, began with an intricate and beautiful rendition of “El Polifemo de Oro” by Reginald Smith Brindle.

“It’s one that I’ve been working on for a couple years now,” said Cogley. “I have tried to play a lot of different things at the open mics since I started going to them, and that was one I’ve recently been performing, and I wanted another opportunity to solidify it in front of an audience.”

Brindle’s piece is entirely instrumental, and within the confines of Kimball, a single guitar can fill the space. The small audience, most of whom were also intending to perform, became noticeably quieter as Cogley began.

Cogley sees open mics as a time to experiment before a small crowd.

“It is an opportunity for the performers,” Cogley said. “It’s not really about the listening experience, it’s more for the performer to get a chance to play in front of anyone.”

He also expressed a want to escape the generic formula of a guitarist at an open mic. It is normal to hear covers of popular songs, but Cogley relishes the opportunity to escape that boundary and play something that the audience does not expect. It is rare to hear a classical guitar piece, and even rarer to hear one at such an event, but the audience listened with rapt attention.

David Lilburn, a sophomore and a stand-up comedian, also performed that evening.

“I love doing stand-up and open mics are the best chance I have to do it on campus,” Lilburn said. “I do improv, I’m on Varsity Nordic, and one day I started writing [stand-up]. I kept having ideas so I started to write them down–I wanted to try them out.”

His routine consisted of a two-part, ten minute section of stand-up that followed a number of distinctive story-lines. This is where improv and stand-up diverge.

“There are two big differences [between improv and stand-up],” Lilburn said. “The first is being able to plan stuff out. Improv, despite what some may think, isn’t planned … With stand-up, you can do these longer jokes that have a story behind them. The other thing is that when you’re doing stand-up, it’s just you. It’s more nerve-wracking; in improv, I have a team so if I start doing poorly or if I mess up somehow, a teammate can tag me out and I can wait on the sidelines for a bit.”

Cillian Mitchell, the general manager of KWCW, was also in attendance. He sees KWCW’s events as a time to bring two communities together.

“We try to do a lot of events during the semester to get our DJs together and our audience together,” said Mitchell. “We want to have a communal space. DJing at KWCW can be kind of isolating because you’re just in the studio by yourself or with your co-host, but your not with the rest of KW put together. So we throw events that allow our audience and DJs to meet and hang out.”

He went on to say, “we like to do open mics because it reflects what KW is all about. On KW, we try to give a platform for new artists to come play. We feel like the open mic is similar to that. We give a platform for students and community members to show of their talents to a small, but like-minded audience.”

Ultimately, this KWCW Open Mic delivered poetry, music and comedy in a way that allowed new and practicing performers alike to engage with each other in an intimate space and develop their particular talents.

With a stunning cast and an impressive array of mystery, casework and drama, the Walla Walla Little Theater’s adaption of “A Few Good Men” is a must-see. It was originally written by Aaron Sorkin (the screenwriter of “West Wing”) to be a theater production; he then worked with director Rob Reiner to create the 1992 adaption, starring Tom Cruise, Jack Nicholson and Demi Moore. The Little Theater production is directed by Kay Fenimore-Smith and George Smith, and will be shown each Friday through Sunday through Nov. 19.

“A Few Good Men” focuses on the court-martial of two U.S. marines stationed in Guantanamo Base Naval Station. The play predominantly explores hardships of the lawyers assigned to the case, as well as the cover-up and its consequences.

Kay Fenimore-Smith and her husband George Smith jumped on the chance to direct “A Few Good Men.”

“Twenty-five years ago, my husband and I appeared in the production at the Little Theater,” Fenimore-Smith said. “It’s always been a favorite of ours; we are mostly attracted to it due to the overriding themes of honesty, integrity, what it means to live by a code of honor, and it’s a well-written play, but it’s the themes that really attracted us.”

While the themes may intrigue the directors, the writing is absolutely phenomenal–Sorkin is careful to temper the seriousness of the case and its characters with a quick wit that drew several laughs from the audience on Saturday night. It also stops short of confusing the audience, with characters who do not so much resemble Sherlock Holmes, as occasionally draw upon an intangible knowledge.

The acting is well done, with several standout performances, the best of which comes from Kevin Loomer, the director of Theater Arts at WWCC. He plays Lt. Col. Nathan Jessep, a hot-headed and arrogant member of marine command. Loomer manages to harness the same anger that Jack Nicholson did almost 30 years prior.

But there is one problem with this show: it is too easy to compare to the film and, even as a play, it is structured to resemble a film. Film has the ability to slip between different scenes in a second; it doesn’t need to pause the action so stagehands can move props on or off the stage, or actors can slip into different clothes – theater all but requires it. There are over 40 scene changes in this production of “A Few Good Men,” and though it is impressive that they can achieve the effect of watching a film, the 30 seconds or more of darkness ultimately lifts the audience out of the show. It is hard to stay focused on a production for almost three hours when some of that time is spent watching shadows move pieces on and off stage; it detracts from a brilliant play.

Smith and Fenimore-Smith agree with this detracting element of the show.

“[Aaron Sorkin] was also the screenwriter for the movie, so he updated it afterwards to make it more closely resemble the movie,” Smith said.

“Which has created problems in terms of putting a play on,” Kay Fenimore-Smith added.

“In a movie you can cut, zoom in on this, zoom in on that; we’ve got 41 different scenes,” George finished.

The two directors had to adapt a script that resembled a film to the stage, and though it is imperfect, it is also a brilliant production of “A Few Good Men.” Despite the evident problems with having so many scenes and moving pieces, the production is one of those rare gems that comes along – with the help of an amazing cast, this play should not be missed.