Deborah Samuel’s Elegy: Buying bones and meditating on mortality

Erin Byrnes

Fine art photographer Deborah Samuel thought she was losing her mind. She had been working on a project for nearly two years and she couldn’t tell whether or not she had gotten off track. Her subjects were hard to find. Thinking back, she recounts moments of doubt, when she wondered, “What am I doing? I’m ordering skeletons off the Internet.”

The result of Samuel’s work is a collection of intriguing and well-executed images of animal skeletons: at once enduring and tragically fragile. The global premiere of her exhibit, Elegy, at the Royal Ontario Museum, marks the first collaboration of the ROM’s Life in Crisis: Schad Gallery of Biodiversity and their Institute for Contemporary Culture. The exhibit, which showcases 33 of the 50 prints in the collection, is featured in the Scotiabank CONTACT Photography Festival and brings together science and art in a meditation on life and death.

The project had its genesis almost 10 kilometres underwater. As the British Petroleum oil rig, Deepwater Horizon, bled out into the Gulf of Mexico, emerging as the worst environmental disaster in the history of the United States, Samuel was suffering equally devastating personal losses. She began to focus on what she calls the “life/death divide,” and decided to channel these ideas by photographing birds suffering and dying as a result of the oil spill.

Due to restrictions imposed by the Coast Guard, Samuel could not access the shore, so she began to photograph the bones of birds and fish. Later, she widened her scope to include other vertebrates, including a frog, an anteater and a cobra. But skeletons were hard to come by. When the ROM contacted her to offer her access to its vast collection, Samuel accepted – happy to have access to skeletons that were intact, and not mounted in display cases: “Free-form, where you can actually do something with them,” she says.

Although inspired by disaster and housed in a museum, the birds defy conventional representation. They aren’t the iconic oil-covered ducks that stripped the Syncrude tailings ponds of their slightly bucolic resonance. Nor are they formalist, scientific representations of animal anatomy – archived frames that demonstrate functionality and form.

Her skeletons document interaction, oppositions, perhaps even attraction. Gesturing at an image of two birds, a solitaire nestled into a cardinal, she notes that many species of birds killed in the BP disaster mate for life. “What happens to them?” she asks, looking sadly at the unlikely couple. Another series of prints shows the skeletons at play, her ode to Mexico’s Day of the Dead. She says that she tried to imagine what their lives were like before the spill.

Exquisitely detailed, the dry spongy appearance of bone near an owl’s beak illustrates the lightness of the skeleton; the emerging pinfeathers on the print of an avian embryo are evocative little notes of texture on a tiny body with a too-big head. The colours of an almost abstract outline of an armadillo shell are luminescent, evocative of an oil painting. Meanwhile, a cobra winds powerfully across three frames to form a triptych tribute to the designs of nature.

Samuel captured the images by carefully positioning the skeletons on a flatbed scanner; placing the section she wanted to be in sharpest focus against the glass. Working with limited depth of field, the white bones emerge, breaking the surface of the deep black background. The bones stand in relief to what is behind them: they defy it.

The process of working with the skeletons helped her sort out her own thoughts on death and memory. “When you have skeletons that hold their life in them, hold the animation of their life lived, when they still exude that and you can still capture that, then death is not finite,” she says.

Elegy runs at the ROM until July 2, 2012.

Girls just wants to have fun

Bob Lackie

Girls is a half-hour comedy, airing on HBO Canada/The Movie Network at 10:30 p.m. on Sunday nights.  The show is executive produced by Lena Dunham, Judd Apatow and Jenni Konner, and the first season will run 10 episodes. The show is about a quartet of smart, young women who find themselves making very bad decisions. At the centre of the show is Hannah Horvath (Lena Dunham), a would-be author who has spent the past two years since graduation having all of her bills paid by her parents until she can get a job in her field.

Hannah may not be the world’s most sympathetic protagonist. Within minutes of meeting her, we are witness to an artless attempt on her part to scare her parents into continuing to support her financially. By the end of the hour, she’s fumbled an attempt to get hired for pay at her internship, ignored her boyfriend’s clear disdain for her as she clings to him emotionally, flaked out on friends, and taken opium tea. And don’t look to Girls to present any of these things sympathetically: Hannah is clearly not doing life right, whatever that means.

The thing is, she’s so used to things being easy that she doesn’t know how to make things happen on her own. As such, her flaws are compelling. Despite her entitled nature, Hannah’s self-esteem issues come into play again and again. It’s why she always finds herself on the losing end of the conversation: with her parents, her boss, her boyfriend. The only person she manages to win an argument with – in that she can completely ignore their point of view without consequences – is her best friend Marnie (Allison Williams), who seems to be the only voice of reason in her life at all.

Hannah’s surrounded by a group of other beautiful 20-something white girls, all of whom have their own issues: smart and capable Marnie is trapped in a relationship with a young man who adores her, but she doesn’t have the strength to dump him or even discuss the issue; manic Jessa (Jemima Kirke), who is prone to having all sorts of crazy adventures and doing what she wants, finds herself pregnant; and Shoshanna (Zosia Mamet), who we don’t see much of, beyond one scene where she tries far too hard to get Jessa to like her. Jessa and Marnie seem to be the devil and angel on Hannah’s shoulders, with Jessa promoting the over-adventurous path, and Marnie offering the sensible one. The cast is strong, embodying their particular characters with nuances beyond the basic archetypes we’re given in the pilot. It’s easy, for example, to understand why Hannah gets caught up in Jessa’s adventures, even though the audience cringes at the disasters that could happen if she does.

Girls is funny, smart and seems to know exactly what it wants to be and how to go about being that. That’s a mightily impressive place to start for a show, considering most get halfway into first seasons before figuring that out, or are cancelled long before they do.

Jack White – Blunderbuss

Max Mertens

When you’ve been the frontman of one of the most successful garage rock bands of the 2000s, started two other critically respected and well-loved bands, and founded your own label, what else is there to do? If you’re The White Stripes’ Jack White, the answer is put out a solo album. While it isn’t surprising that the guitarist and singer-songwriter has done just that. White has always done things his way and marched to the beat of a different drummer (Meg White joke not intended) what is surprising is that it took him this long to get around to it. Blunderbuss, which is named after the muzzle-loading gun of choice for Portuguese mariners and the British cavalry during the 17th and 18th century, is White’s first independent release on his label Third Man Records. While it isn’t hard to hear the lyrical and musical influence of his past bands on this record (the aforementioned Stripes, The Raconteurs, and The Dead Weather), Blunderbuss contains some of the singer-songwriter’s most personal songs yet. This is perhaps most evident on first single “Love Interruption,” an acoustic and electric guitar slow burner with gospel-influenced vocals, where White promises, “I won’t let love disrupt, corrupt or interrupt me.” This sentiment could be about any number of past relationships, but more likely than not, it’s about the singer-songwriter’s divorce from British model Karen Elson last year. On the rest of the album’s thirteen tracks, White allows himself to follow his own muses, and has a lot of fun in the process. While the piano in “Take Me When You Go” and cheeky lyrics “Hip (Eponymous) Poor Boy” are more reminiscent of The Raconteurs’ interpretation of Americana, “Sixteen Saltines” sounds like a lost White Stripes B-side, with White proving why he deserved that spot on Rolling Stone’s list of the all-time 100 greatest guitarists.

Ty Segall & White Fence – Hair

Max Mertens

When does Ty Segall find time to sleep? It’s a question worth asking. The Bay Area singer, guitarist and drummer has already announced that we’ll see at least three releases from him in 2012. One look at his Wikipedia entry and you’ll see a discography, both as a solo artist and from playing in several bands, that would make many older artists jealous. He also tours North America constantly (if you haven’t seen him yet then you need to make that a priority). Given how prolific he is, you might think it comes at the cost of varying quality. That certainly isn’t the case with Hair, Segall’s collaborative album with San Francisco-based White Fence (aka Tim Presley). While the eight tracks draw on both artists’ influences, including blues, garage rock, psychedelic rock and punk, the album feels like a trip back to the ‘60s. In the hands of lesser artists, it would come across as blatant pastiche, but Presley and Segall make it their own. The highlight here is the winding, surprisingly melodic “I Am Not A Game,” which ends in a frenetic guitar solo and crashing drums. Don’t worry, though, Segall hasn’t forgotten about his punk background either―just listen to the guttural cries all over “Crybaby.” The only complaint about the album is that it’s less than thirty minutes long. Here’s hoping this is one Hair that gets a sequel.

La Fille mal gardée: a fun-filled chicken-and-pony show

Kelsey Rolfe

The National Ballet had me at dancing chickens. La Fille mal gardée was utterly enchanting (and very, very funny). Perhaps best described as the romantic comedy of ballet, Fille was an accessible, charming story that anyone could understand — and that everyone should see.

La Fille mal gardée has been roughly translated to mean “the badly guarded girl,” a theme which persists throughout the show. Widow Simone (Matjash Mrozewski) plans to have her daughter Lise (Jillian Vanstone) married off to Alain (Christopher Stalzer), the dopey son of a wealthy landowner, Thomas (Kevin D. Bowles).

Lise, however, has different ideas: she’s in love with the poor farmer, Colas (Naoya Ebe). Despite Simone’s best efforts to keep her daughter far from Colas, the two find ways to subvert her authority.

Fille was originally choreographed in 1789 by Jean Dauberval, and is one of the oldest ballets to still be danced. In 1960, Sir Frederick Ashton, the principal choreographer and director of England’s Royal Ballet, created his own version, but stayed true to the ballet’s French romantic roots.

The show was dedicated to the memory of Alexander Grant, the former artistic director who brought Fille to the National Ballet in 1976. Grant also created the character Alain, a role that was used largely as comic relief throughout the show.

The last time Fille was performed at the National Ballet was in 2002, and even this year it’s had a very limited run: Feb. 29 to March 4, with a couple of matinee performances.

The March 1 evening show boasted debut performances for Vanstone, Ebe and Stalzer. Vanstone and Ebe had wonderful chemistry as Lise and Colas, and navigated Ashton’s hazardously difficult choreography with apparent ease. The strength in Ebe’s movements was obvious and enviable, particularly when he had to perform jump-turns from a standing position.

Stalzer, however, stole the show with his impeccable comic timing and knack for physical comedy. (Watching him perform a short, clumsy dance for Lise could inspire laughter in even the most straight-faced guests.) He managed to make the role more than just a punchline, and turned Alain into someone you could root for (or, at the very least, find endearing).

As well as a wonderful cast, La Fille mal gardée included a real, live pony (I did a double take, and immediately started looking for signs that it was an elaborate costume), dancing chickens with giggle-inducing choreography, and a very beautiful use of ribbons.

The ribbons made their first appearance in Lise’s act one solo. Later, a single pink ribbon acted as a favour between her and Colas throughout the show, then a prop in their two pas-de-deux.

Ribbons were a recurring theme, especially near the end of act one, when the cast performed a traditional maypole dance with Lise and Colas at its center. A particularly lovely moment — probably the show’s best — had Lise in the middle of the maypole circle in arabesque, with eight ribbons in her hand. Her friends held the other ends and when they danced around her, she turned on pointe, entirely unsupported – a feat of strength and grace.

Other stand-out moments included Widow Simone’s clog dance, a rhythmically and comically perfect sequence, and — spoilers — the final moments of Act One, when a particularly strong gust of wind picked up the awkward Alain and sent him flying into the midst of a summer storm.

If the National Ballet brings Fille back next year, make time to see it. If not for anything else, do it for the dancing chickens.

The Best and Worst of Coachella 2012

Max Mertens

When my friend asked if I wanted to attend the Coachella Music Festival this year, I didn’t have to think twice. One of the biggest music festivals in North America, Coachella took place over two weekends this year on the beautiful Empire Polo Grounds in Indio, California. Here are some of my highlights, disappointments and lessons learned from three days in the desert.

BEST PRE-SHOW MUSIC

When the skies turned grey on late Friday afternoon, whoever was responsible for the PA system before Girls’ set cued up a weather-specific playlist that included The Doors’ “Riders On The Storm,” Albert Hammond’s “It Never Rains In Southern California,” and Nick Cave. It drizzled for a few minutes, but by the time the San Francisco band had finished their set, the sun was shining again.

BEST CELEBRITY APPEARANCE

The weekend featured numerous appearances from none other than the Hoff himself, David Hasselhoff. No word on whether he was there to see a band or simply got lost driving KITT through the desert.

BEST NEW BAND

Manchester, England’s WU LYF. Remember the name, because you’ll be hearing a lot more about these guys in the near future.

WORST SOPHOMORE SLUMP

The Arctic Monkeys’ debut album, Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not, is a fantastic record. Released in 2006, it was an excellent collection of songs about small town boredom, getting kicked out of pubs and lusting after girls. Unfortunately for the U.K. quartet, they haven’t been able to match that level of success since. I didn’t see too many performances that I didn’t care for over the weekend, but the Monkeys’ set was one of them. The audience was certainly into the set, crowd-surfing and jumping up and down. If only the band had shown even half that amount of energy.

CLEAREST SIGN WE WERE IN CALIFORNIA

Besides your standard music festival’s $7 beers, shitty pizza and watered-down mixed drinks, Coachella also offered plenty of options for health-conscious celebrities and regular people, including smoothies, organic wraps and honest-to-goodness salads. I usually have a rule of not eating overpriced food at festivals, but I found myself breaking that rule on several occasions throughout the weekend.

BEST AFTERNOON PARTY

She might not have a full album out yet, but that didn’t stop 20-year-old New York City rapper Azealia Banks from starting a full-on dance party on Saturday afternoon, ending of course with her breakout hit “212” (which has a mere 13,411,646 views on YouTube). Is it possible to sweat out a hangover?

BEST DANCE MOVES ONSTAGE

There’s only one person at Coachella that could really win this award and that’s Thom Yorke. Sporting a truly unfortunate ponytail (you’re the lead singer of one of the biggest rock bands in the world and you can’t afford a pair of scissors?), the Radiohead frontman shimmied and shook across the stage during the band’s Saturday night headlining set, proving that you’re only as young as you feel. On a related note, a quick Google Search for “Thom Yorke dancing” turns up about 1,060,000 results, including a number of fantastic Tumblr sites.

BEST USE OF TECHNOLOGY COSTING BETWEEN $100,000 AND $400,000

The Tupac hologram. Sure, it was incredibly tacky, but what else was it going to be?

Mixed bag of styles at Ryerson Dances takes show to new limits

Kelsey Rolfe

On November 22, Ryerson Dances 2011 opened at the Ryerson Theatre, with four performance pieces created by well-known choreographers: Intricate Freedom by Valerie Calam, Arsenio Andrade Calderon’s Encounters, Allen Kaeja’s Axon, and Indigo Moods by Vicki St. Denys.

The program, which lacked any identifiable theme, was a mixed bag of styles, ranging from Calam’s wildly chaotic individual-focused performance to St. Denys’s sensual, jazzy piece.

Intricate Freedom, the first performance of the night, was described in Calam’s choreographer’s notes as a piece that “shows the dancers performing as themselves within a group.” It certainly did that — it was incredibly rare to see the dancers moving in unison.

Though they may have danced at the same time, it was almost never the same choreography. The result was an almost stressful test for the audience: you could never truly see everything, and – using a technique reminiscent of Twyla Tharp’s In The Upper Room – it forced you to try to look everywhere at once.

However, when the dancers were brought together to perform the same choreography, the result was almost breathtaking.

Arseno Andrade Calderon’s Encounters, the second piece, was what stole the show for me. The very bold, unapologetic sensuality of it was impressive, demonstrated best by the two dancers who spent a good portion of the performance in the middle of the stage, on the verge of kissing.

The costumes — nude body suits — served to drive the audience to distraction, while heightening the attention to dancers’ extensions (more elaborate costumes can, occasionally, detract from the cleanness of a dancer’s lines). The camera that filmed them from behind and projected the image onto the back screen only added to the somewhat taboo feeling of the entire piece — it was like looking in on something private and beautiful.

The best part of the performance may have been when the three male dancers leapt off the stage and sat down in the audience, and then managed to remain straight-faced while the little girl beside me kept sneaking sideways glances at them until they returned to the stage.

Axon stood out because of its interesting use of partnering. In the other three pieces, lifts and throws were generally relegated to the male dancers, whereas in Axon, female dancers were lifting and throwing each other; as well, the guys were being tossed and lifted by their female counterparts. It was quite impressive, and showcased the strength of each dancer. I also liked how fast-paced the routine was, and the techno music that Kaeja used.

Indigo Moods by Vicki St. Denys was actually choreographed at Ryerson in 1998 for a cast of nine dancers, and was performed again in 2003. Since then, the final section of the piece has been presented at the Banff Centre for the Arts by the Dance Program. Ballet Kelowna also featured the work as the closing piece to their 2006 and 2010 seasons, and it was re-worked this year for Ryerson Dances.

It was a piece that felt like it had been taken right from the New Orleans jazz scene. They used props to make the stage look like a speakeasy, and the costumes — tailored pants, pencil skirts, corset tops and button-ups, in shades of blue — were very sophisticated. I loved the theatricality of the performance, and the obvious enjoyment the dancers brought to the stage. Pieces like Indigo Moods are a perfect illustration of why I love dance.

Gourmet Food and Wine Expo offers full-bodied treats for foodies

Theresa Do

If I’d known that an event dedicated to boozing and schmoozing held over a weekend would most definitely draw in a lot of people, I wouldn’t have chosen Saturday as the day to attend the seventeenth annual Gourmet Food and Wine Expo, held at the Metro Toronto Convention Centre. Not unless I was in the mood to “excuse me, pardon me, I need to get by” through the hundreds of pink-cheeked 20- or 30-somethings drinking, eating and even dancing (an inevitable consequence of crowds and alcohol) in the name of Epicureanism.

With its nearly 400 exhibitors, the expo was entirely overwhelming, especially to a first-timer. The set-up: pay an admission fee and then buy “sample tickets” in exchange for food and wine samples (think of how a carnival operates).

I decided to go the adventurous route and limit myself to only international offerings/things I’ve never tried. With that, I marched on with confidence towards my first booth: Wines of South Africa. When I asked the exhibitor what she recommended, she answered, “Well, what do you like?” My first important lesson of the day: despite what I thought about connoisseurs who understand things about tannins, or the different bouquets, or how an oak barrel will affect the taste of a wine, at the end of the day, it really just boils down to preference. And as a complete wine newbie, that worked for me.

So I told her I liked reds, something full-bodied with a rounded flavour. She poured me a shiraz/cabernet sauvignon blend by The Pavillion (two tickets) and sent me merrily on my way. The sweet, fruity notes accompanied me as I glided along the merlot-coloured carpet, sampling the best the world had to offer. One of my favourites was Lenz Moser Prestige Trockenbeerenauslese, an Austrian dessert wine that was heavenly in combination with a chocolate praline macaron (I nearly melted onto the floor).

And in the centre of it all, an acoustic cover of R.E.M.’s “The One I Love” was being performed on stage; the singer crooned with his eyes closed, almost unaware of the massive crowds around him. Breathing into the microphone, his words dripped sensuality as he took a small step back and then seamlessly transitioned into U2’s “One Love.” And all around on the leather seats and cocktail tables, friends were laughing and couples were cuddling, rubies swirling in their glasses and sparkling under the lights.

For the next six hours, I drank and ate to my heart’s content, crossing a variety of things off my list. Bordeaux wine, Russian black caviar, Japanese sake and plum liqueur, to name a few. Despite the buzzing excitement and lack of breathing room, it was a very comfortable  environment. Loveseats strategically placed around the exhibition hall slowed the pace down, if the heavy wine consumption didn’t.

After a dozen samples, when I decided I had had a thorough taste of the event, I left—completely and utterly satisfied. Slightly inebriated, but satisfied. ­

Keepin’ it Reel

Samantha Lui

The Reel Asian International Film Festival took place at venues across Toronto from Nov. 8 to 13. Now in its fifteenth year, the festival continues to present works of contemporary Asian cinema and narratives from the Asian diaspora, making it Canada’s largest Asian film festival. Our own Samantha Lui was on hand to review two stand-out presentations from the festival.

Trailblazers

Trailblazers is a programme of short films surrounding the injustices and hardships faced by elders. Quirky and eccentric, these shorts tell stories of seniors who bravely take different paths and continue to celebrate their unique identities.

In Totte Mitsu, Let’s Go to Russia, director Brian Lye follows two women who fight over a camera in a spontaneous film made with his Japanese host mother and her friend.

Granny’s Rock (Babah No Rock) is about a 68-year-old artist named Miya Yumemi who is often seen as a “crazy” person on the streets of Tokyo.  The documentary-style film directed by Satoru Yasuda captures Yumemi’s unique marker drawings and unusual yet endearing personality.

Then there’s Grandpa’s Wet Dream.  Directed by Chihiro Amemiya, it follows a 75-year-old Japanese man who has been acting in adult movies for 15 years without telling his family.

And lastly, there’s Sugar Bowl. Directed by Ryerson grad Shasha Nakhai, this film – winner of the 2010 Reel Asian So You Think You Can Pitch? Award – takes the audience through the rise and fall of the sugar cane industry in the Philippines.

The films in Trailblazers may seem low-budget, but the content and characters are what draws the audience in. Filled with charming seniors marching to the beat of their own drums, their lives and personalities shine through in the end.

Surrogate Valentine

Those who take pleasure in simple things like good music and charming humour will enjoy Dave Boyle’s Surrogate Valentine.

The film follows musician Goh Nakamara (playing himself) as he struggles to make a living playing live gigs and teaching guitar. But when a filmmaker friend asks him to give guitar lessons to TV star Danny Turner (Chadd Stoops) for an upcoming movie role, Goh reluctantly takes the job.

Because Danny will be playing a “burned out, sad sack musician,” the two end up going on tour together.  To the annoyance of Goh, Danny models his research on him, and as the two get to know one another better, it becomes clear that the character Danny is supposed to play rings a bit too true to Goh’s life.

Things get more complicated when Goh’s unrequited crush, Rachel (Lynn Chen), shows up at one of his shows.  As Goh tours from his home in San Francisco to gigs in Seattle and Los Angeles, Rachel is always on his mind.

Shot in black and white, the characters and their charm shine through.  While the introverted Goh wants nothing more than to sing and write songs, Danny is annoying but funny, often bragging about his former roles.

What’s also impressive is Goh’s performance as a musician. Penning the song that inspired the film’s title, his emotional and soulful tunes are what stand out.

Although the performances of each actor are justified, things are left too open-ended by film’s end.  There’s no sense of growth for the lead, leaving the audience wanting more.

Nonetheless, Surrogate Valentine is a pleasure to watch.  For once, it is nice to see an Asian lead playing a non-stereotypical role.

Miss Representation

Meaghan Yuen

Appropriately presented by the Ryerson Women’s Centre, Miss Representation packs as much fervour as the cat fights it condemns. Director Jennifer Siebel Newsom challenges the demeaning representations of women in the media, holding it responsible for the self-doubt in females today. The documentary exposes the media as though it were run by oversexed teenage boys – with lots of boobs. (Boobs pushed up, boobs in bikinis and boobs with implants.)

With the similar in-your-face style as Jon Stewart’s The Daily Show, Miss Representation takes examples from the media to argue against it. In combining shocking statistics with even more shocking instances of blatant sexism – from the everyday Barbie to the sexualization of Sarah Palin – it points to a capitalist media, not only exploiting the self-consciousness of girls and women, but creating it.

The actress-turned-filmmaker frames the documentary by recounting her dark experiences in the public eye, describing the menacing ideals of beauty. The real motivation, however, is her determination to protect her daughter from the brainwashing effects of the objectified women who are often seen on reality T.V., Disney movies and even the evening news.

Katie Couric, Jean Kilbourne, Nancy Pelosi, Condoleezza Rice and Lisa Ling are among the many feminist activists like Newsom. Through personal experiences, they share expert insights as well as stories in which they were discouraged from ambition and, despite their success, were discredited because of their appearance.

Margaret Cho, for example, relays a time when her producers for the show All American Girl pressured her to lose weight, which lead to her anorexia. While she lost the weight, the show was cancelled and replaced by Drew Carey of the Drew Carey Show, a man who’s much larger than her.

Not only has Miss Representation made its way to the Sundance Film Festival, but the documentary has also garnered the attention of one of the most powerful women in media, Oprah Winfrey. In fact, it’s been added to the Oprah Winfrey Network Documentary Club, a group gaining as much recognition and as many followers as her prestigious book club.

Miss Representation certainly drives the message home – again and again. Although it was made clear that the message is relevant and crucial to the understanding of media, it resonated the most during the first five minutes of the film, as the pounding music of Metric (a band most notable for its female lead) causes hearts to pound just as hard in anticipation.

However, it’s not to say that the latter majority of the documentary is boring, but it does lack the drive it evokes in the beginning, perhaps due to the repetitive blue writing of facts and figures or the unchanging white background. Regardless, it takes away from the energy that’s invested at the start.

As for the interviews, not all of them are humdrum. High school students, who are as articulate as graduate students and as wise as their professors, speak with profound brilliance, proving that there’s a hopeful generation for the future, which is where the documentary is truly successful.

Miss Representation doesn’t just point fingers; it points out where to go from here. With a passionate sense of urgency, the feminist documentary emphasizes the power of the voice for a full-out media makeover.

Next Page »