Period dramas are usually sure successes that garner a devoted viewer base. Genre pieces such as “Downton Abbey” and “The Crown” were lauded as both commercial and critical successes. A simpler time and pretty costumes have always resonated with audiences, and history has plenty of content ripe for adaptation. 

On May 15, Hulu released the first season of “The Great,” an account of Catherine the Great’s ascension to the throne. Taking the now played out genre and twisting it, the series mixes drama and comedy, with a heavy sprinkling of satire. Spanning ten episodes of just under an hour each in runtime, the series is quite the investment of time. 

This is not creator and writer Tony McNamara’s first foray into whimsical period pieces. McNamara also wrote 2018’s “The Favourite,” an 18th-century comedy-drama that received ten Oscar nominations. As the title card points out, “The Great” is “an occasionally true story,” — keyword occasional. To create his satirical period piece, McNamara has plucked slivers of truth from Catherine’s rise to power and heavily edited them to create a compelling and absurd coming of age tale. 

Staring as Catherine (the soon to be Great) is Elle Fanning (“Super 8”). Opposite her is Nicholas Hoult (“Warm Bodies”) as Peter III, emperor of Russia and her husband. Much of the show rests on this pair’s shoulders, and they certainly deliver. 

Fanning portrays Catherine’s transformation from a naive German princess to a cunning Russian Empress flawlessly. She delivers witty quips, rallying speeches and biting retorts all the same. Hoult is the true breakout of the show. His Emperor Peter is an impossibly spoiled ignorant child, yet Hoult somehow manages to remain charming. Together, their chemistry is phenomenal. While it is clear Catherine and Peter despise each other, the competitive frenemy-like relationship that develops as the show manages to keep the viewer interested, even as the storylines can be tiring. 

Other noteworthy characters include Sebastian de Souza’s (“The Borgias”) Leo. A noble brought to the palace by Peter, Leo is Catherine’s lover. Essentially a manic pixie dream boy who is obsessed with living in the present, Leo is a shell of a character. Then there is Marial, Catherine’s maid, a former noblewoman who Peter demoted when she angered him. Marial is played by Phoebe Fox (“One Day”) and is one of the most enjoyable characters in the show. Constantly fed up with the absurdity of Peter’s antics, it is Marial who pushes Catherine to move forward with the coup. 

What cheapens “The Great” is the absurd vulgarity; while it is quite shocking in the first few episodes the schtick grows tiring. The palace is more reminiscent of a frat party than a traditional court. Each episode is packed with vodka shots, F-bombs, fornication and bodily excrements. There is also a surprising amount of gore for such a pastel-shaded show. An entire episode revolves around Peter torturing his court trying to out a rat, and it involves far too many fingernails being ripped out. 

One of the best aspects of the show, its aesthetic, is heavily borrowed from Sofia Coppola’s 2006 cult classic “Marie Antionette.” Coppola’s highly stylized pastel retelling of the French Revolution was celebrated for its costume and set design, something “The Great” clearly tried to replicate. Catherine and crew are constantly decked out in beautiful and colorful silks and wearing tall powdered wigs. The softness of the court in contradiction with the crassness of the show’s content made for an interesting juxtaposition. 

While it is an interesting watch, distilling historical events into a show that caters so perfectly to modern sentiments is off-putting. Catherine the Great was not a 20-year-old feminist who wanted to bring the free press to the serfs; she was a 32-year-old mother of three who wanted to save her empire from political decline. McNamara tried too hard to modernize and satirize a history that could have done just that with a little less reworking. 

“The Great” had a good idea, a stellar cast and an enchanting aesthetic, but somehow still managed to fail to live up to its own name. 

For the third installment of Movie Weekly, the Technique switched gears from classic American cinema and watched “A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night.” A vampire thriller with a twist, the highly stylized film has more in common with spaghetti westerns than classic horror flicks, making it feel timelessly iconic yet wholly unfamiliar. 

The movie is writer-director Ana Lily Amirpour’s (“The Bad Batch”) feature film debut, and her most critically successful picture. Following the success of Amirpour’s 2012 short film of the same title, “A Girl Walks Home Alone Night” is the result of an Indiegogo campaign that raised over $50,000 to fund the full-length adaptation. After the movie’s release in 2014 it was screened in the “Next” program at that year’s Sundance Film Festival. 

Set in the fictional Bad City, “A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night” opens on Arash (Arash Marandi, “Fireflies”) as he takes home a stray cat. A handsome young man dressed in dark jeans, a white t-shirt and with slicked back hair, Arash is straight out of a 50s rockabilly film. When he brings the cat home, his widowed father Hossein (Marshall Manesh, “The Big Lebowski”) is introduced. Hossein spends his days slumped on the ground in front of the TV, constantly in a heroin-fuelled comatose state. 

Amirpour’s Iranian-American heritage clearly impacts the film. Though the dialogue is entirely in Persian, the setting is unclear — Bad City looks to be an industrial desert oil field at some points, but an American suburb at others. 

Most striking about Bad City, however, is its loneliness; populated by seemingly only a handful of citizens, it is more a ghost town than anything else. Amirpour creates the sense that an exodus occurred in Bad City, and those that are still stuck there are waiting to make their escape. The town is eerie, industrial and unsettling. As he walks around town in the opening scene, Arash crosses a bridge over an underpass, that upon closer inspection is full of bodies. 

After Hossein fails to pay his dealer, Saeed (Dominic Rains, “Burn Country”), he makes a home visit to harass Hossein. As payment, he takes Arash’s prized possession: his brand new car. Saeed, who is also a pimp, drives away to rendezvous with one of his workers, Atti (Mozhan Marnò, “Traitor”). In the middle of forcing himself on her, Saeed sees a mysterious dark figure in his rearview mirror and cuts things off, forcing Atti out of his car and speeding away. 

On his way home, Saeed comes across a beautiful young girl with dark lipstick and heavy eyeliner and clad in a striped shirt and a chador, a Persian cloak and head covering. He invites her into his home and intends to seduce her. The Girl rejects his advances, reveals her long fangs and drains his life. 

Never given a name, and only referred to as The Girl, Amirpour’s vampire is a fresh take on a classic movie monster. In recent years, many films have tried to revamp vampires in various ways. Most famous, perhaps, is the adaptation of Stephanie Meyer’s “Twilight” series, which took the ancient monster and turned it into a teenage heartthrob. Then there is Taika Waititi’s (“Thor: Ragnarok”) 2014 hit “What We Do in the Shadows,” which was an unexpected comedy featuring modern vampires. The year before, Jim Jarmusch’s (“The Dead Don’t Die”) highly stylized “Only Lovers Left Alive” took a new angle and focused on the listlessness and depression that comes with an infinite lifetime. 

Amirpour’s vampire is most closely related to Jarmusch’s. The Girl stalks and skateboards around Bad City at night, her chador eerily similar to the classic vampire cape, as she hunts for terrible men to feed on. Her lair is a basement studio apartment, decorated like a hip teenager’s room — walls covered in posters, a ceiling lined with fairy lights — where she dances to American records alone. Effortlessly portrayed by American actress Sheila Vand (“Argo”), The Girl is incredibly melancholic, nearly always silent and entirely a mystery. 

As she leaves Saeed’s home, The Girl passes by Arash, who is there to get his car back. Arash enters Saeed’s home, finds him dead and steals Saeed’s stash before taking his car back. He then throws Saeed’s body into the underpass filled with bodies seen earlier. He quits his landscaping job and takes over for Saeed, becoming a drug dealer. 

At a costume party, a girl convinces Arash, who is dressed as Dracula, to try his own stash and take ecstasy. After wandering around a suburb and getting lost on his way home, Arash runs into The Girl once again. In his state, he is spacy and confused, but this is the first time The Girl seems to be interested in someone. He hugs her, and she takes him to her home and plays him her records as he lays on her bed. 

From there, the two begin a sort of relationship. Their first date is eating takeout burgers near a power plant, where they exchange maybe ten words. Arash puts on a song and they bond over music. It is clear that they sense something in one another, and that neither of them have anyone else.

The choice to shoot the film entirely in black and white might just be a callback to the classic film style “A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night” is paying homage to, but it proves to be a powerful choice. Scenes of The Girl at night are more prominently juxtaposed with Arash’s during the day. The grayscale also contributes to the sense of loneliness Amirpour is trying to convey, the world she has created feels oppressive.

Sometime later, Hossein hires Atti, a prostitute, and forcibly injects her with heroin. The Girl is nearby, hears the disturbance and breaks into his home. She tears Hossein off of Atti and attacks him, unbeknownst that he is Arash’s father. After dragging his body into the street, she takes Arash’s cat and brings it to her underground home.

After finding out about his father’s death, Arash realizes he no longer has anything tying him to Bad City and decides to flee. He shows up at The Girl’s apartment and tells her to pack, he wants her to go with him. She packs a single bag, stuffing it with handfuls of men’s watches, trophies from her apparent victims. It is then, when they are packed and ready to go that Arash’s cat emerges from the shadows. Arash is stunned and puts the pieces together, realizing that she must have killed his father. Still, the two drive away in Arash’s car, the cat between them. All is silent until Arash puts in a cassette tape. 

A foreign black-and-white film about a skateboarding vampire sounds like the punchline to some kind of joke about hipsters, but “A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night” is shockingly unpretentious. 

Our Take: 4.5/5 Stars

The horror genre is notoriously chock-full of low budget, poorly acted, shoddily directed movies. Within the past few years, however, the genre has seen the release of more high-profile films that have had both commercial and critical success. Examples include Jordan Peele’s debut “Get Out,” last year’s hit “Midsommar” and the recent Stephan King adaptation “IT.” 

The latest addition to this golden age of high-quality horror is Leigh Whannel’s “The Invisible Man.” Whannell, who has a long history in the genre, not only wrote the film’s screenplay but is also the director. Among his other writing credits are hits like the first three “Saw” movies and “Insidious.” As his fourth directorial feature, “The Invisible Man,” shows Whannell’s mastery of this horror; the film is perfectly paced, incredibly acted and beautifully shot. 

The original “The Invisible Man” premiered in 1933 and was a near-perfect translation of the H.G. Wells novel of the same title. Ninety years later, Whannell’s adaptation strays from the original text; the changes are seamless, and the film feels like original content as opposed to a familiar remake. 

Cecilia Kass (Elizabeth Moss, “The Handmaid’s Tale”) is a former architect trapped in an abusive relationship with genius optics engineer and millionaire Adrian Griffin (Oliver Jackson-Cohen, “The Haunting of Hill House”). After successfully escaping from his large estate with the help of her sister and subsequently hiding out with a childhood friend, Cecilia learns that Adrian has committed suicide. Cecilia is finally freed of her abuser. That is, until she begins experiencing unexplainable events and suspecting her ex-boyfriend found a way to terrorize her from the grave. Suddenly, Cecilia can not trust her own senses, her grip on reality slips and her friends begin doubting her mental wellbeing. 

The film rests entirely on Moss’ performance. Few actresses working in Hollywood could have delivered such a performance, Moss completely knocks it out of the park. Much of her screen time is solitary, as she acts opposite an unseen man who may or may not be entirely in her imagination. The film does not work unless the viewer feels as though Cecilia is sane at some points, only to doubt her a second later, a feat that Moss is able to effortlessly pull off.

At the perfect intersection of horror and thriller, “The Invisible Man” psychologically torments not only Cecilia, but also the viewer. As a survivor of domestic abuse, Cecilia suffers from PTSD, and her invisible tormentor exploits this. 

This elevates “The Invisible Man” from a well done and spooky horror movie to an incredible psychological thriller that deftly explores domestic abuse. Cecilia’s plight — aside from the fantastical elements — mirrors that of millions of victims. This grounding in reality is what makes this movie bone-chilling. 

Though it only premiered in theaters a few months ago, due to the current situation “The Invisible Man” is available for home viewing. The film can be rented for under $20 on Amazon Prime, Apple TV, Xfinity, Google Play, Vudu and FandangoNow. “The Invisible Man” is well worth the rental price, especially if it is split between a few quarantine buddies. 

Our Take: 5/5 Stars

The rise of Netflix has paved the way for content that urges viewers to keep pressing the “Play Next” button. As a result, the engrossing genre of true crime limited series has become immensely popular. Netflix’s latest release of this genre, “Tiger King,” takes a look at the United States’ big cat community. While the tigers are the initial draw, the drugs, cults and murder keep viewers invested. 

The documentary is a seven episode mini-series with installments of about 45 minutes, making the series perfectly bingeable. Each episode ends on a cliffhanger that convinces the viewer to keep watching. 

The series follows the rise and descent of Joe Maldonado-Passage, better known as Joe Exotic, the purveyor of a zoo in Oklahoma that specializes in big cats. Exotic is a gun-toting, mulleted, gay-polygamist who is constantly decked out in sequins and fringe. If that was not enough, not only is he a zoo owner, he is also a country singer, the host of a self-produced reality TV show and presidential candidate. 

The supporting cast is made up of other conservationists and private zoo owners, each more ridiculous than the last. In Miami is Mario Tabraue, director and president of the Zoological Wildlife Foundation. Before becoming a conservationist, Tabraue was head of a $75 million drug ring and is said to be the inspiration for the crime classic “Scarface.” 

Then in South Carolina is Myrtle Beach Safari, run by Bhagavan Antle. Though Bhagavan is a chosen name which apparently means “Lord,” he also goes by “Doc” since he allegedly has a degree in Chinese medicine. His dubious education is not what makes Antle controversial, however. Antle staffs his zoo with young blonde women, all of whom he renames and dresses in skin-tight animal print bodysuits. The whole thing is very cult-like.

Finally, there is Carole Baskin. Baskin and her third husband run Big Cat Rescue in Tampa, Florida. Big Cat Rescue is supposedly different from the other zoos in this series because it is classified as an animal sanctuary. Baskin started her big cat endeavor with her second husband, the multi-millionaire Don Lewis. Lewis mysteriously disappeared twenty years ago, leaving nearly all of his massive wealth to Carole, and leaving his first family almost entirely out of his will. 

The main conflict of the series centers around Exotic and Baskin. The latter’s personal mission is to end private zoos and the breeding of exotic animals, and their feud began when Baskin began to attack Exotic’s zoo with allegations of animal abuse. Exotic is not one to take criticism lightly and began to retaliate by posting online videos criticizing and threatening Baskin. From there, the dispute evolved into a million dollar lawsuit and eventually a murder for hire plot. 

As the series continues, however, it gets increasingly dark. It is hard to keep perspective when the situation seems so unreal, but truth is truly stranger than fiction. Each episode somehow manages to thicken the plot and blow the previous revelations out of the water. 

Aside from the content, which is incredible, the docuseries is incredibly technically well done. Director Eric Goode (“Racing Extinction”) is a conservationist himself, as well as a nature documentarian. The editing perfectly juxtaposes interviews with b-roll and shots from the zoo; at one point a scene discussing meth use in Exotic’s park cuts to one Exotic’s husband’s toothless smile. What ends up grounding the documentary are the testimonies from regular people who provide context for the conservationists’ antics and drama. The producers knew exactly who to interview, from lawyers to animal handlers and strip club owners. 

Now that the world is at a standstill, many are turning to streaming to occupy their days. “Tiger King” flies by in just over five hours of viewing and is the perfect distraction from the news. Make sure to check out “Tiger King” on Netflix before the quarantine is over.

French filmmaker Céline Sciamma (“Tomboy”) brings an eighteenth century oil-painting to life in the dramatic romance “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.” Though the movie saw a limited release to U.S. theaters in Dec. 2019, “Portrait of a Lady on Fire’’ was widely released on Feb. 14, 2020. 

The period piece follows Marianne (Noémie Merlant, “Paper Flags”), a young Parisian painter who is commissioned to produce the wedding portrait of a noble woman. The subject of the painting is Héloïse (Adèle Haenel, “Love at First Fight”), a girl pulled out of a convent after her sister’s tragic death and destined to be married to a far away Milanese nobleman. 

Héloïse is unwilling to be sent off to some stranger, wishes that she could return to her convent and has already scared off another portraitist. Instead of being rude to Marianne, however, Héloïse begins to develop a friendship and then something more with the painter. 

Much of their romance is built on quiet gazes. Marianne studies Héloïse in order to paint her portrait, but Héloïse dares to study her back with an intensity that is palpable. 

The film takes place over just eleven days. While it seems impossible that such a passionate connection could have formed so quickly, the film is able to create a world where the romance instantly feels real. Merlant and Haenel have an undeniable chemistry and both deliver subtle yet intense performances. Sciamma penned a minimal script, yet so much is communicated with a bitten lip, the twitch of an eyebrow or a trailing glance. “Portrait of a Lady on Fire” understands the female gaze and has no problem exploiting that. 

While the movie is first and foremost a heated romance, it also portrays rarely discussed experiences of women at the time. The cast of characters is small but entirely made up of women. Men appear on screen fewer times than can be counted on one hand. Still, the power men hold, however absent they may appear to be, is unmistakable. 

There are of course conversations about the contract and expectations of marriage, as many period pieces address, but “Portrait of a Lady on Fire’’ dares to explore more. In a particularly gut wrenching side plot, one of the girls becomes unwantedly pregnant, and the many ways by which women of the time attempted to terminate pregnancy are featured. 

Many movies tradeoff style and substance, Sciamma refuses to compromise, and “Portrait of a Lady on Fire’’ excels at both. 

Set in Brittany, on a small island off the northwest coast of France, the film is naturally breathtaking. Much of Marianne and Héloïse’s scenes
take place on the beach, where the clear lines of horizon, surf and sand are marred only by
jagged cliffs. 

While the landscape obviously lends itself to beauty, the artful cinematography of Claire Mathon (“Stranger by the Lake“) elevates the movie to a true masterpiece. Mathon took the subject of portraiture and was able to carry the theme through the whole film. Each scene is set up like an eighteenth century painting. Like the blur of an oil painting, the film is never sharp. The lighting in every scene is impossibly soft and never seems to come from a specific source, a technique that allows Marianne and Héloïse to seem to glow at some points. The resulting product is a movie that is impossible to look away from.  

Forgetting no part of the cinematic experience, “Portrait of a Lady on Fire’’ takes full advantage of sound design. The movie is astonishingly quiet, something that goes largely unnoticed until the silence is broken. This creates a sort of tension throughout the entire film, and allows louder moments more gravity. Marianne’s brushstrokes scraping across the canvas, the roaring of the ocean as it crashes against cliffs and the crackle of a bonfire turn familiar scenes into a sensory, visceral experience. Céline Sciamma has proven herself to be a deliberate and thorough filmmaker with a fresh, artistic vision. “Portrait of a Lady on Fire” is a stunning cinematic experience that is technically, thematically and emotionally stunning.

In an age where sequels, remakes and reboots are king, the remake that no one saw coming was that of the 2000 romantic comedy “High Fidelity.” On Feb. 14, Hulu released a ten-episode series based on the John Cusack (“Being John Malkovich”) film. While it might have been unexpected, “High Fidelity” seamlessly updates a forgettable but fun movie into an emotional and poignant series that feels current.

Replacing Cusack is Zoe Kravitz (“Mad Max: Fury Road”) as Rob, a music snob and Brooklyn-based record store owner. The series follows Rob as she navigates a personal crisis following the dissolution of her engagement. Her plan to set all right: confront her five exes, figure out why all of her past relationships have failed and win back her ex-fiance.

Rob narrates her struggles, often breaking the fourth wall to speak directly to the viewer. At first, this is jarring and annoying, but as the episodes continue, the heart-to-hearts between Rob and the viewer seem more natural. This is likely due to Kravitz’s performance; her Rob is extremely flawed, horribly selfish, yet painfully earnest and relatable. Few actresses have the charisma to make such a character so likeable. 

The surrounding cast of characters populate a Brooklyn that feels real. Rob’s ex-fiance is Mac, a gorgeous and effortlessly cool British man portrayed by Kingsley Ben-Adir (“World War Z”). New beau Clyde (Jake Lacey, “Carol”) is the opposite: not very cool, extremely white and into Phish. Clyde is painfully wholesome and sweet, the perfect character to juxtapose Mac. The staff at Rob’s record store are her two best friends, Simon (David H. Holmes, “Mind Hunter”) and Cherise (Da’Vine Joy Rudolph, “Dolemite is My Name”). 

Cherise is trying to make it as a musician yet never seems to be making music. Her character was portrayed by Jack Black (“Kung Fu Panda”) in the original movie, and while she does not quite manage to bring his energy, Cherise is a welcome comic releif to an emotionally taxing show. 

Simon grounds the series emotionally, contrasting Rob’s search for love with his own search for companionship. In a later episode of the series, the perspective shifts to Simon. Where Rob is a commitment-phobe, Simon wishes he could skip the whole dating thing and just be five-years into a comfortable relationship. His struggles with sexuality and toxic relationships add dimension to the show, and reveals that there is more to this world for the audience to explore.

Another thing “High Fidelity” nails is a grungy and hip, yet elegant aesthetic; à la classic New York City shows like “Friends” and “Sex and the City,” Rob’s apartment is ridiculously nice, and realistically impossible for the twenty-something failing record store owner to afford. With baby pink walls, a velvet couch, persian rugs, and piles of records, Rob’s apartment is quintessentially boho-chic. The record store nails the same vibe, and the bar that the crew frequents is quaint, dark, and richly colored with an honest-to-god jukebox. 

Given that “High Fidelity” is set mostly in a record store, it is a given that the soundtrack is impeccable. Rob is constantly making playlists, scoping out records, curating top 5 lists. The Root’s Questlove is the Executive Music Producer, and currates a soundtrack that is seamlessly woven into each episode. Frank Ocean fades into Jimi Hendrix into Dead Kennedys. Modern music taste is no longer limited by physical records and cds, and Rob’s music reflects the diversity and eclecticness that comes with that. There is even an incredible Debby Harry cameo where she bestows some dating wisdom on Rob set to her 1978 pop hit “Heart of Glass.” 

The only true flaw of the show is that it stretched itself a little thin, and did not need all ten episodes to tell Rob’s story. Though the first two episodes start out strong, the series flounders a little, spends too much time on unnecessary side plots and does not pick up again until episode five. With that said, “High Fidelity” rewrites the movie’s ending, leaving it ambiguous. Whether this is a ploy to make room for future seasons or a creative choice is up in the air. Either way, the rewrite fits this series and Kravitz’s Rob more than the original would have. 

As opportunities, relationships and friendships dry up and Rob as at her darkest point, it becomes startlingly real, and painful to watch. “High Fidelity” forgoes a traditional love triangle and will-they-won’t they situation and instead sticks closer to reality. Rob is paralyzed by the idea of being in a happy relationship, she is actually held accountable for her indecision and her selfishness. 

The premise is a little gimmicky — it is hard to believe that a 20-year-old romcom would work as a ten episode tv series — but High Fidelity manages to make it work. The show is an enjoyable watch, as well as a surprisingly realistic take on the complexity of modern relationships. Hulu’s “High Fidelity” expands upon and improves the source material, a feat that many remakes fail to achieve. 

Indie-pop band Tennis’s fifth album “Swimmer” was released on Feb. 14. The album follows a three year hiatus after the release of their last album “We Can Die Happy.” The past three years have been troublesome for the band, wrought with illness and family passings. “Swimmer” allowed the duo to navigate the dangerous waters of grief and reflect on a decade of marriage.

Tennis is made up of husband-and-wife duo Alaina Moore and Patrick Riley. The two began making music in 2011 with their debut album “Cape Dory,” and since then have released five albums. The band has carved out a space for themselves in the indie scene, consistently delivering on an 80s inspired, melancholic sound. 

Despite the heavy real-life context of “Swimmer,” the music itself is light and dreamy. In a statement on Facebook, the band said that the album is “named for the feeling of suspension and upendedness that characterized this period.” Each track is laced with nostalgia and mystery and feels straight out of the surreal 90s crime drama “Twin Peaks.” 

“Swimmer” has a quick playtime of only 31 minutes, spread out over nine songs. First is “I’ll Haunt You,” which barely sounds like an opening track at all but more resembles a sweet farewell or a movie fading to black. Despite this, it sets the tone of what is to come: an album-length rumination on companionship and aging. 

The first single off the album, “Runner,” is infectious. The track is a quintessential Tennis song: soft vocals, softer music. Moore’s vocals are nearly hoarse, recalling a sense of desperation. The heavy use of synth is juxtaposed with a groovy guitar riff to create a truly unique sound. Overall, the song is one of the best off the album. 

The title track “Swimmer” is another high for the album. The song is reminiscent of Lana Del Rey’s most recent release, “Norman F—–g Rockwell.” It feels moody, hypnotic and vaguely patriotic. It is also one of the few places on the album where Riley’s guitar skills truly get to shine. 

“Echoes” harkens to the past. Recalling the vocals of Nico, the track is straight out of the 60s. The production and music are simple; leaving behind the high effort of other tracks, there is only a bare guitar. The effect really works and provides a mid-album break. The song sounds upbeat and carefree; a quick listen, though, would never hint that the song is a recollection of Moore’s recent hospitalization and seizure. 

Closing the album is “Matrimony II,” a continuation of “Matrimony” from 2017’s album “Yours Conditionally.” While “Matrimony” was an account of the band’s romantic wedding day, the follow-up is more concerned with the familiarity of long-term companionship. A direct comparison of the two songs highlights the band’s evolution over their hiatus. Musically, the song keeps a beat that feels like a slow march, one that mirrors the duo’s relationship, which is described in lyrics as “the gentle pull of gravity that’s being-unto-death.” 

While some might not like the way all of the songs have a very similar sound, it provides a cohesive and trance-like listening experience as one song easily slips into the next. As a whole, “Swimmer” proves Tennis is more than their nostalgic shtick. Moore’s vocals toe the line between siren and angel, the lyrics are just as hypnotic as ever, and the production has finally caught up. Tennis has truly found their sound.

Tennis’ most recent tour kicks off in Kansas City, MO on Feb. 25. Catch them in Atlanta at this year’s Shaky Knees Music Festival on Sunday, May 3.

On Sunday, Feb. 9, the 92nd Academy Awards celebrated 2019’s achievements in filmmaking. This year’s awards season was unusually short, leading many to assume the films that had been dominating the rest of awards season would keep up the momentum. Thankfully, they were incorrect. While the Oscars lasted a bloated three hours and 35 minutes, the twists and turns of the night managed to make staying up til midnight worth it. 

The live broadcast opened with an uncomfortable and confusing musical number from singer Janelle Monáe. The performance set the tone for the rest of the show, which included 14 unnecessary musical performances and could have been confused with the Grammy’s. An unwarranted ten minute performance of “Lose Yourself” by Eminem left everyone, but most notably Martin Scorsese, questioning where they were. 

Like last year’s awards ceremony, Sunday’s show had no host. Instead, various celebrities introduced other celebrities who finally handed out awards. Chris Rock and Steve Martin gave the opening monologue. They made fun of Jeff Bezos’ divorce, the Iowa caucus and the fact that there was only one black nominee this year, Cynthia Erivo (“Harriet”). Many presenters followed suit and poked fun at the Academy’s continued failure to nominate people of color and women, but after years, the same jokes get old. It is not funny anymore, it is just sad.

All of the acting awards went to the expected recipients. Brad Pitt (“Fight Club”) received Best Supporting Actor for his role Quentin Tarantino’s “Once Upon A Time… In Hollywood,’’ and “Big Little Lies” star Laura Dern won Best Supporting Actress for Noah Baumbach’s “Marriage Story.” 

Joaquin Phoenix (“Her”) took home Best Actor for his titular role in “Joker.” Phoenix’s acceptance speeches at past awards shows have spotlit social justice causes, and this one was no different. After speaking against inequality, he ended his speech with a tribute to his late brother, “When he was 17, my brother wrote this lyric. It said, ‘Run to the rescue with love, and peace will follow.”

The Best Actress award went to Renée Zellweger (“Bridget Jones’s Diary”) for her portrayal of Judy Garland in the little-seen biopic “Judy.” Though it may seem impossible, her speech was longer and more rambling than Phoenix’s. She name-dropped everyone from Sally Ride to Bob Dylan, thanked the troops and was just generally nonsensical. 

The undisputed winner of the night was South Korean filmmaker Bong Joon-ho (“Snowpiercer”). He shocked audiences early in the night by taking home the awards for Best Original Screenplay and International Feature Film for “Parasite.” Just when it seemed like that was it for “Parasite,” the movie made history twice. Bong Joon-ho beat out front-runner Sam Mendes in another upset for Best Director, becoming the first South Korean recipient in that category.

Then, in the biggest surprise of the night, Sam Mendes’ World War I drama, “1917,” did not receive Best Picture, as “Parasite,” once again shocked viewers. The applause from the audience was tremendous as the cast and crew took the stage. “Parasite” is the first ever foreign-language film to win Best Picture. Joon-ho summed up the night apptly in one of his acceptance speeches: “Thank you, and yeah. I’m ready to drink tonight, until next morning. Thank you.”

Taika Waititi (“Thor: Ragnarok”) also made history when he became the first person of Maori descent to win an Oscar; he wrote, directed and starred in “Jojo Rabbit,” a satirical World War II comedy about a boy growing up in Nazi, Germany,  which won him the award for Best Adapted Screenplay.

Of the ten movies that it was nominated for, “1917” won just three: Best Cinematography, Best Sound Mixing and Best Visual Effects. Todd Phillips’ “Joker,” which boasted 11 nominations — the most of any movie — took home only Best Actor and Best Original Music Score. Martin Scorsese’s “The Irishman” was the only Best Picture nominee not to receive a single award. 

In recent years, the Academy Awards have struggled with drawing viewers. While the 2019 Oscars ceremony broke the downward trend and had a 12% viewership increase from the previous year, Sunday’s broadcast did not follow suit. Six million less viewers tuned in this year, bringing the total viewership down from 29.6 million to 23.6 million. 

The Academy Awards have been under scrutiny in recent years for lack of diversity and inclusion. The broadcast’s ratings continue to drop year after year. Oscar-nominated films are rarely popular among the general public, and the same five films manage to appear for in every award category. 

While this year’s ceremony showed little improvement in any of these problem areas, Parasite’s success made for a historic night, and made making it to the end of a tedious broadcast seem worth it. The Academy should take note for future ceremonies. 

One thing that I did not expect to have such an impact on my college career was my parents’ lack of college careers. 

I am considered a first-generation college student. Though both my mom and dad completed high school, neither of them, nor anyone else in my family has completed a college degree. 

This is not out of the ordinary for my hometown. I am from a small town of less than 15,000 people in southern New Hampshire. A former manufacturing economy, my town has seen economic decline, though many are still employed by factories. My parents are actually both factory workers, an occupation that certainly does not require a college education. 

I knew from very early on that my path would be different than theirs. 

Since I was in kindergarten and showed distinction in the areas of counting and reading picture books, everyone in my family made it clear that I would be going to college. My grandmother started a college fund, something that older generations had never had the luxury of. It was always a given that I would attend higher education through any means necessary. 

That is why it was a family-wide accomplishment when I got my Tech acceptance letter. Though I really do value my entire family’s support, it has made me feel like the pressure to graduate from Tech and to get a well-paying job in the tech-industry is enormous. I am my family’s investment, and most likely their only retirement plan.

Though Tech does not publish the numbers, US News reports that 15% of Tech undergrads are first-gen. This is relatively low when compared to other public universities with similar programs: 25% of University of Illinois, 26% of MIT, and 35% of University of California Berkeley undergraduate students are the first in their family to attend college. 

This low density of people with similar backgrounds can be alienating at times. I do not know anyone else with similar experiences to mine. My friends can call up their parents to ask for advice about what or how many classes to take, career advice or even how to balance their social life. Being a first generation college student means not being able to fully relate to your peers, but no longer being able to relate to or ask for help from your parents. 

In addition to that, while Tech offers great programs like the Georgia First Pathway Program to help first-gen Georgia residents get admitted, there is little extra support once they arrive to campus. There is a lot more to college than simply going to lectures and taking exams, something I did not truly realize before I started at Tech. Since my first day of classes, I have pretty much been figuring it out as I go. 

Things like navigating the how to pay for the momentus cost of higher education is one of the best examples of this. Since neither of my parents went to college, they have no idea how to go about applying for financial aid and scholarships or how to fill out the FAFSA. Every single year I struggle through my parents’ tax documents, finding the relevant information to fill out the necessary forms. Reaching out to the Georgia Tech’s Financial Aid Office for help and advice is rarely successful. 

I know I am extremely lucky to have been accepted to this school, to have the opportunity to study here and to go to college at all. My transition into college was rockier than many of my peers, but I have been figuring it out. I can not be the only one. 

In a study, UCLA’s Higher Education Research Institute found that first generation college students are 14.7% less likely to graduate than other students. I would like to see Georgia Tech provide more support for its first generation students since going to school here is stressful enough. 

YouTube has somewhat democratized the music industry and allowed the rise of many artists that otherwise would not have had such success. More famous examples of this phenomenon are Justin Bieber,  Ed Sheeran and Shawn Mendes. Too Many Zooz followed suit and used the online video platform to take them from subway stations to a
world-wide tour. 

On Thursday, Dec. 16, Too Many Zooz made an appearance at the Variety Playhouse in Little Five Points. 

The band is made up of trumpetist Matt Muirhead, drummer David “King of Sludge” Parks and baritone saxophonist Leo Pellegrino. Zooz got their start playing outside of New York City subway stations in 2013. They began uploading these performances to YouTube and garnered millions of views. In the seven years since, they have released six EPs and one LP. Their most recent album, “ZombiEP”, debuted in
September 2019. 

The trio’s genre is self-defined as brass house, but that may be a bit misleading. Their sound could also be described as a jazzy, mini marching band with some EDM backings.

When asked about how they plan sets on a Reddit AMA, the Zooz responded, “We have a set list but it is more like planned improvisation.” They then clarified that, out of this improvisation, many of their songs are created.

This quote describes the experience of a Too Many Zooz concert aptly. It was nearly impossible to place when one song ended and the next began. All of their music is loud and high energy with an infectious beat. The fact that the songs easily flowed one into the other kept the audience going and ensured that there was never a lull in the crowd.  

Throughout the entire two hour set, the energy in the room was frenetic. The concert goers were diverse with ages ranging from high schoolers to parents. Despite this, the reaction to the band was pretty unanimous: Too Many Zooz might be a little out there, but their audience is right out there with them. 

Aside from the music, much of the room’s energy was owed to Pellegrino’s performance. While the other members remained stationary on the stage during songs, Pellegrino made up for it with constant movement. Even with the heavy baritone sax, his feet did not rest for one second. His dancing was suggestive in an over-the-top manner as he bounced
around the stage. 

While the trio played together for most of the concert, each of the members got a turn to take center stage with their instrument and go solo. Parks’ turn was especially captivating. His bass drum was tricked out with other instruments cobbled on top. Among other things, there was a tambourine, a cow bell and a tiny cymbal. Using this ragtag assortment of instruments, Parks was able to create unique beats that
captivated the audience.

The band’s clothing was literally electric. Muirhead wore a construction hard hat and jean vest, Parks sported a crown and Pellegrino also had a jean vest that was studded with LEDs. The lights blinked on and off and changed color in time with their music. The overall effect of this electric fashion was pretty futuristic. Their attire only emphasized their unique music style and the fact that this band cannot
be put in a box. 

Too Many Zooz played half of their set before they finally addressed the audience. This trend persisted throughout the concert, as Zooz primarily communicated via their music. The few instances in which they did stop playing to speak, however, were notable. Parks created a moment of silence seldom seen at live shows before saying, “Believe me, the subway didn’t happen in one day, and it did not happen overnight. It took a lot to get here, a lot of sacrifice, a lot of time, a lot of believing in myself.”  

Busking in the New York City subway sure taught Too Many Zooz how to perform. Their music might not conform to everyone’s tastes for casual listening. When played live, though, it is undeniable that it creates the perfect atmosphere for an engaging and exciting show. Make sure to catch the band next time they come to Atlanta for a lively and energetic performance.