Cleopatra: The Lumineers

                          

The Lumineers have come out with a new album! This was surprising to me, actually. I pretty much exclusively associated The Lumineers with that short-lived but intense indie movement of 2012 (give or take a year or two). I wouldn't necessarily have considered myself a huge fan of theirs; I never did listen to all the tracks on their eponymous album, though I've had a special affection for "Ho Hey" and "Stubborn Love" since they came out.

I was pleasantly surprised right away when I noticed the cover art of the album. Appropriate to the title of the album, and perhaps appropriate to the theme of the title track "Cleopatra," the cover features a photograph of silent film actress Theda Bara dressed for her role as Cleopatra. I appreciated this tribute, as I often feel that silent films are not talked about very often in mainstream culture.

I'm really, really impressed with a lot of the tracks on Cleopatra. I'm quite picky when it comes to acoustic/folk music. When it begins to sound too much like country or ubiquitous singer-songwriter, I lose interest very quickly. There's something about this album, however, that kept my interest. It was soulful, and even a little sad. I think it was a bit more low key than their first album, and meditative in tone. Something I like about their choice in sound is that they mix different instruments and ideas that I wouldn't normally associate with their genre.

My favourite tracks were "Ophelia", "My Eyes", and "White Lie" (a bonus track on the deluxe version). Of these, I think my favourite is "My Eyes," because several times it tricks you into expecting the melody to proceed a certain way by using familiar chord progressions, but then suddenly it takes a completely different turn.

While celebrating the success of the Lumineers in producing this wonderful album, I would also like to take a moment to remember an artist that is no longer with us. Prince passed on today, at 57. I'm not that familiar with his work, but I've always heard him spoken of as genius, and have understood him to be extremely influential. This has been a very unfortunate year in the music world, as the talented David Bowie was also lost to us in January. They will be dearly missed.

Malá Morská Víla

     Thursday nights are often lonely for me. My roommate works late, so I often end up spending the evening in an empty room. A couple of weeks ago, being in such a situation, I was in the mood to watch something. Suddenly I remembered a film that I had discovered on Pinterest a long time ago. It was a version of The Little Mermaid produced in the 1970s in Eastern Europe. Having saved a link to this film on Youtube, I decided to finally sit down and watch it. As it happens, I had saved the wrong film. The film I had originally been looking for was Rusalochka, a 1976 rendition of the fairy tale. The film I had saved, however, was Malá Morská Víla, a 1975 rendition from the Czech Republic. I did not realize this until well after the fact, however, so I will probably be watching Rusalochka sometime in the future. I'm not sorry I made the error, however, because otherwise I might never have seen Malá Morská Víla, which is a beautiful film.           
               
                                                 (The Little Mermaid in her sea kingdom)

      One thing I enjoyed about this film was that there was little drama. I often get frustrated with contemporary films and television programs, because there is always such a strong emphasis on emotional tension. I often find this boring and predictable rather than stimulating. Instead, Malá Morská Víla places its primary focus on creating an atmosphere for the characters to live in. It moves at a slow and dreamlike pace, allowing you to take in this rich world and understand it. The film is also incredibly beautiful. The costumes are quite unusual; instead of looking like half-fish people, as mermaids are usually depicted, they wander about at the bottom of the sea in Dante-esque robes, in colors corresponding to the seas they inhabit. 

      The characters are delightful, and quite complex for a film with so little dramatic tension. The dialogue is very subtle; people speak in a plain, matter of fact fashion, and yet you get a good sense of what they are feeling. 
                  
                                                       (You sit on a throne of lies)
 

       I couldn't help comparing this film in my head to Disney's version of the story. To be honest, if I ever have offspring, I would rather they grow up with this version of The Little Mermaid than the Disney version. Even though the ending is rather sad, I think the message of the film on the whole is better. In the Disney version, Ariel is a bit of a brat. She doesn't have a good reason for wanting to leave home, except that she's in love with some random prince she's never even had a conversation with. She violently defends her position, making her father out to be the “bad guy” because he won't let her have what she wants. When she signs the contract with Ursula, she does so partly in pursuit of her dream, and partly as an act of rebellion against her father. (At least, that's what I interpreted from her facial expression. I could be wrong.) The deal Ariel makes with Ursula is, also, quite stupid. She has three days to make the prince fall in love with her; otherwise, she comes back to the sea as Ursula's property. True love, in this case, is represented by a kiss-- which, honestly, bothers me. One kiss doesn't mean true love. Love is something that takes a lifetime of commitment and sacrifice, not a moment of passion. Anyway. I don't think it's very realistic that Ariel and the prince fall so deeply in love in such a short time, and that what it takes for Ursula to break them up is to cast a spell on him.


           
                                         (Completely unsuspicious glowing beverage)



      What I don't like about Ariel's happy ending is that she gets it both ways. She gets to defy her father and still keep his favor, leave the sea for the land but still reserve the right to return-- it's as if no decision or action of hers has consequences. Every thing comes easily to her, even though-- let's face it-- she makes very bad decisions. The logic of the film, however, tries to make these decisions the right ones, after all. What this movie teaches is that romantic love never fails, and that you should throw everything else aside in pursuit of that love, which will definitely never result in scarred relationships or physical danger even when you decide to spend three days in a strange man's house, who could totally rape and kill you without anyone knowing or caring because you cut off all ties with everyone you know. 
                
                                          (The Little Mermaid...is not a mermaid anymore)

      The Little Mermaid of Malá Morská Víla, on the other hand, has a very different story and carries a very different message. In this version, the Little Mermaid acts out of wanderlust as well as a desire to escape an arranged marriage with a pedantic sexist. (That was harsh. He was actually kind of cute.) She makes a far less shady deal with a less shady sea-witch, whose requirements are that she must make the prince fall in love with her, or else she will be turned into sea foam when he marries someone else-- unless she kills him. I don't recall a time-limit. She does have to give up her voice, and also suffer horrible stabbing pains in her feet as she walks. While the Little Mermaid does not necessarily make a better decision than Ariel, the film does not make it seem that this was the best decision. The Prince falls in love with her for a time, and promises to marry her, but when he finds the woman that he believes to have rescued him, he changes his mind. And then he expects the Little Mermaid to be happy for him. Naturally she is heartbroken, and does think about stabbing him in order to save her own life. But she sees how much the other girl loves him, and decides not to. She dies.

        
                                                ("No, really; tell me more. I'm so interested.")

      What I like about this story is that there isn't a clear message about what the Little Mermaid did right or wrong. The important thing was that she made decisions, and these decisions had consequences. By the end of the film, you don't get the sense that the Little Mermaid was bitter before her death. She understood when she decided to leave the sea that she made a risky choice. Even though it didn't end well, she understood that this was the life she had made for herself, and was at peace. 

      Anyway, I really enjoyed watching Malá Morská Víla, and I hope you'll check it out sometime. Or should I say, Czech it out? (*readers leave in disgust.)