A Crazy Thing To Do
hen I get nervous, I blush. This was damning as a kid, most especially when, in the second grade, I was in love with Ben Nichols and he asked me why my cheeks were red. Of course, this wouldn’t be a problem for Samantha. If you are without a body, what you have left is language. Between raspy giggles and mild mockery, Theo and Samantha fall in love with each other’s words.
Hard to Swallow
For those diagnosed with eating disorders, or suffering from potentially harmful eating habits, this silence only fuels the problem. Those with disorders have few opportunities to articulate their problems to friends, administrators or even themselves. And, according to many who have suffered in secret, beginning to talk is the first step to a solution.
A Thanksgiving Roast
A few Fridays ago, crowded in a dusty and dimly lit Silliman common room, I celebrated Thanksgiving. I sat with fifteen friends, surrounded by cheap electric candles and stale gingerbread crumbs. In the spirit of the season, we had prepared a roast – not of some hapless bird, but of each other. The rules: none. The limits: infinite.
An Offer You Can’t Refuse
Given its obvious nod to gangster cinema, there’s something redundant in deeming Goodfellas an Italian restaurant – a bit like clarifying that “Major English Poets,” is, shockingly, an English class. Plasma televisions splash Robert DeNiro’s face across the restaurant’s walls, silently looping “The Godfather” and other genre classics (a bit Orwellian for my taste, but harmless enough). The result: an innocent Atlantic City atmosphere, buzzing but businesslike.
The Road Less Traveled
Juan Bravo ’16 has had many firsts at Yale. First Commons dance. First chemistry problem set. First snow. But before Bravo came to New Haven, he first bid a final farewell to his California high school: to metal detectors at every door, police officers at every corner, knives in every pocket.
DELIA EPHRON: Essayist, Dog Lover, Cronut Cynic
Delia Ephron can claim all the major titles of the literary world — novelist, screenwriter, playwright, essayist. Her latest work,“Sister Mother Husband Dog,” came out on Tuesday, and on Wednesday Ephron stopped by the Yale University Art Gallery to talk about the book. She wrote this collection of essays in the wake of her sister Nora’s death in 2012, which ended a lifelong creative partnership between the two. Their collaboration spawned the films “You’ve Got Mail” and “Sleepless in Seattle”. With sporadic asides to her dog — “honey, down!” — she spoke to WEEKEND over the phone about her writerly genealogy, the tweetable future of essays and trendy New York pastries.
When pussycats and bow-wows pout
The idea of sexual innuendo is all too present in the Yale Cabaret’s latest production, “Ermyntrude and Esmeralda,” adapted and directed by Hunter Kaczorowski DRA ’14. But don’t be fooled by the title’s Elizabethan echoes. More fitting, I think, is the play’s self-styled moniker: “naughty puppet show.”
A film that prefers feelings to finesse
Darkness — flip.
Unknown — flip.
Fear — flip.
With each slight flick of the wrist, a studious Yalie reveals the Farsi equivalents to each tragic term. Displayed in the moments before Monday’s screening of “Iranian Taboo” began, those flashcards conveyed a melancholic flavor that was all too fitting. The film, as the latest documentary by Dutch-Iranian director Reza Allamehzadeh, depicts the experience of the minority Baha’i community in Iran. It is an experience of prejudice, injustice and, above all else, silence (that is, the titular “taboo”).
Katz out of the bag
If art museums are the 180-minute foreign films that few watch, then exhibitions are the awards ceremonies for those unpopular films.
A Conflicted Education
According to students and faculty members interviewed, each of whom follows the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, the atmosphere on campus surrounding the issue is generally calm and respectful, with an emphasis on communication over confrontational activism.
THE DRAMAT’S SUGAR FIX
In a pitch-black theater, a voice rings with a clear Southern drawl: “I hate theater.” Thus begins “The Drowsy Chaperone,” a postmodern throwback to 1920s-era screwball musicals. After a few moments of disillusioned mumblings, the lights go up to reveal Ryan Bowers ’14, the show’s lonely bachelor and unofficial cultural critic who’s known as “Man »