Student Life Archives

Web Master

Hollywood’s full of them. Great actors who you see time and time again, but whose name you can never remember.
Armin Mueller-Stahl is undoubtedly the king of these talented unknowns. Having starred in over a hundred movies, Mueller-Stahl has affected audiences throughout Europe and America. Some of his most memorable appearances include roles in The Music Box, The Game, Shine, and The Power of One.
Mueller-Stahl recently sat down with Cadenza and other members of the St. Louis press to discuss his lifetime in film, his future projects, and his role in the upcoming release The Long Run, an emotionally intense look at a long distance running coach in Africa who obsesses over having a runner win the Comarades, a race in Africa covering an amazing ninety kilometers.
As he sat in lobby of the Ritz-Carlton holding a black Cardinals hat, his strong sense of humor and above all his relaxed approach allowed for one of the most honest and direct discussions about a film that Cadenza has ever had with an actor.

Mueller-Stahl: So, if you have questions, I will answer them. If you don’t have questions, let’s drink coffee. [taking a big sip from his mug]

Let’s discuss your character in The Long Run.

M-S: [Winning the Comrades race] is his life goal. He is only able to coach. He was trying to run the marathon, but he couldn’t achieve it. But his life goal wasn’t to run; his goal was to prove how far he can go. Because he couldn’t do it, he is helping other people, so that they can achieve what he couldn’t. He knows that is what he can do best:
help other people. He is a helper, not a destroyer. He doesn’t even recognize that there is ever the possibility of a love story or that he is pushing [his runners] away.

Why did you choose to do this film, as opposed to others which you’ve
been offered?

M-S: The reason is that you have a character who is complex. One part is not visible; he doesn’t show it. The other part is visible; the coaching thing is visible. He is very pushy in coaching. But the love story is there, but he doesn’t show it. That makes the character more exciting because in good films, you never answer all the questions. There is always a door open to discover yourself a little bit. The Long Run. The long run: what could it be? Only the run around ninety kilometers? Or the long run of your life goal to achieve something? It means a lot. You have to discover a little bit of yourself.

Were you able to easily take on this role?

M-S: It was easy because of Nthati [Moshesh], the actress I played with. She’s such a wonderful, open person. I’ve never [worked with] a person with such a wonderful laugh. Even if I told a very silly story, she would laugh. And she was so smart. She is just wonderful.it’s so easy going to play all the scenes with her. She was just wonderful. I
hope that she can find a way to make films in America because she is a great talent.

Were there any scenes that were particularly hard to do because the
character is so complex?

M-S: Yeah. For instance, with my runners, when one of them slaps me in the face. How should [my character] respond? Should he take it and not respond? What should he do? And I was thinking emotionally whether he would respond. If he did not, it would be nicer for the character. On the other hand, I would say we have to tell a story. He has to be strong as a coach; otherwise, he is not believable. And he has to be strong. He has to protect his kind of `I’m still there.’ I decided to respond, and he gives some beats back. And I think that’s OK. I was thinking that’s hard to do; how should I handle it? I think sometimes to protect the character, you have to find a way to make it work: to make a story believable. Believable is a very important word in filmmaking.

Was that the actual Comarades race that you showed footage of?

M-S: Yes, footage we took. No, I would say otherwise we would have paid every single runner, and you can imagine how the budget was.

Did you have any special difficulties filming in South Africa?

M-S: Yeah, some sad moments and some wonderful moments. Sad moments were for me that in Johannesburg, in the center of the town, the crime is very very difficult to get in, to be there. Still, the apartheid struggle between white and black is still there. Although, Mandela has resolved many many things. He was really the guy who achieved the truth
and reconciliation committee, a great political feat. But still there, you have to avoid the center of the city, which is a beautiful part of the city, and you can’t go in, which is very sad. On the other hand, I discovered so many wonderful things. For instance, money doesn’t play a big part in this country. There were so many wonderful things. Poor is
the best way to discover the strength of nature. I never saw so many thunderstorms as I did in Africa. It’s really a strength of nature. It is really one of my favorite countries.

How long did it take to shoot the film?

M-S: I don’t even know the number of days. Around 35 days or something like that. I don’t know precisely. I didn’t count my days. They didn’t pay me enough.

What do you hope to accomplish in your acting career doing films like this? You’ve done a lot of films that are considered to have messages.

M-S: What do I hope to accomplish? I will tell you what I think. At least what I have accomplished is a drop of water on a hot stone. That’s what I did in my life. But even if it’s not more, that’s what I could do, and that was the reason that I did it. You know you can’t make a better world by doing films, but you can always try. That is the main message I can give: try.

Do you have any new projects coming up?

M-S: I’m going to work on my own project.

Can you tell us anything about it?

M-S: No. I would, but [you can] never tell anything about stories.

Are you writing it as well?

M-S: Yes. I did all the mistakes together.

Are you going to direct too?

M-S: Everything. There is nothing that I am not doing in this film.

So they can blame you or praise you all at once?

M-S: You can blame me all the time.

“I hate strip clubs. It’s like watching porn in a room full of guys.”
“But it’s worse, isn’t it? I mean, doesn’t the porn watch you back?”
***
And so begins my endeavor to explain what I’ve been trying to say for the past year and a half in this space inexplicably known by the title Josh of the Jungle. By recounting a conversation I had with my friend Matt. About strip clubs. Maybe this wasn’t the start I was looking for.
After all, this is it, right? My last hurrah? I’m leaving Cadenza like Madonna left Sean Penn. Like Buffy the Vampire Slayer left the WB. Like Milosevic left Kosovo. Like the Lorax left the trees. No more weekly chance to publicly vent my feelings and frustrations. No more easy mirage to fool my professors into thinking I’m taking notes when I’m really just brainstorming ways to make my life seem less boring. No more seamless opportunities to embarrass my friend Emily. And I start my last column with a conversation about strip clubs?
But wait a second. Doesn’t that make sense? I mean, I won’t kid myself here. It’s not like I’ve been deconstructing the fate of the universe in this space every week. My most poignant column was about innertube water polo, for godsakes. The only letter to the editor I managed to inspire came from an angry SAC member who objected to my making fun of her worthless organization. (Again, only as a way to make fun of Emily-why, oh why, am I so misunderstood?). Most weeks I do just overhear a conversation and then make up lies about it until I’ve reached my word limit.
So, the question then becomes whether it’s worth trying to write a sort of meta-column (and after four years of this liberal arts education I should really hate anything that begins with “meta”) to explain myself and what I’ve been aiming to do or if I should just write about my normal run-of-the-mill strip-club-centric type of conversations. Decisions, decisions.
A few moments thought, however, makes two things abundantly clear. One, that conversation with Matt isn’t getting any funnier. Two, the only other things people talk about on campus these days-Thurtene and that clever statue-have been discussed to death. Looks like it’s on to the world of the meta-column.
Unfortunately, this poses problems of its own. Do I really want to figure out what I’ve been trying to accomplish for the past three semesters by exposing my thoughts/writing to my peers/enemies? Won’t that kind of enlightenment send me into a perilous void the likes of which no man hath ever escaped?
I know why I started writing, after all. I wanted to make people laugh and encourage them to vote against Ralph Nader. But along the way it’s gotten blurry. The power, I must admit, has corrupted me some. It seems like I’m recognizing friends every five or ten lines, trumpeting some cause or another every third column, copying jokes from The Simpsons every week. Amidst all these separate agendas, I feel like my column has lost its heart. I mean, where’s the nobility in column writing if you can’t brainwash people into doing what you want?

And then, of course, it hits me. As much as I do like sharing this space with you all every week, it really is something I do more for myself. Somewhere along the way it turned into a kind of journal of my thoughts and activities. No wonder it’s so hard for me to figure out this week’s topic. I’ve got one column (and one month) left.
And I really don’t have a clue how I’m going to say goodbye.
***
But then again, Matt did tell me about an odd dream where he entered a Kevin Sorbo look-alike contest. That’s a column right there. Maybe goodbyes don’t have to be so hard after all.

The omega of my column writing career for Cadenza has been reached.
This is my end of the year, final, ultimate, last Cadenza column extravaganza! At long last the time has come for me to put down my pen, burn my keyboard and never trouble you with diseased ramblings again. (Actually, I will have to postpone burning my keyboard for another a week as I have about five papers due on the 30th, but I will burn it then I assure you!)But what do with my final opportunity for slander and free speech? How to go out with a bang?
I could have opened up with a quotation that was full of meaning and sentiment that would have made you break down and weep like you did when Bambi’s mother was killed. I could of use a quote this one from Jim Morrison: “This is the end, of our elaborate plans, the end, of everything that stands, the end, I’ll never look into to your eyes again.” I could have used for my last column to give it a kind of classy “hey look I’m in college and I’m quoting something culturally significant in an ironic way” feel. It sounds pretty good, its about ending. Why not use it?
I decided not to use it partly because it would make my column feel like an essay on loss in 20th century rock lyrics, and mostly because the quote would be misleading. I mean, truthfully, I’ve never really looked into your eyes to begin with, so not doing so again would not be that disturbing or heartbreaking. Also, I would say that most of plans (barring the one to invade Australia) were not very elaborate: my plans were simple and effectively concise without requiring needless amounts of men and material. If you want your designs for entertaining mayhem and joyous destruction to be realized you must keep you plan simple so that the goons you hire to do your dirty work will be able to remember them without writing them down. (Remember, it is likely that at least 65% of the goons for hire will be illiterate)
So, I have stayed simple with my last opus. Thank you. I want to thank all of you out there that took time out of your busy life to read my column and the other fine columns in Cadenza. It took lightening reflexes to pick up a Cadenza every week during the three seconds it was actually made available before it was removed tomake way for the Friday Student Life. I salute my loyal readers’ dexterity and excellent literary taste!
Lastly I will reveal to you my plans for next year. I will be going to (Drum roll please) Japan! Yes, I am making the jump across the Pacific Ocean in order to teach the fine people of Japanthe rudiments of the English language. They will learn how to speak naturally and clearly by mimicking my facile pronunciation and regular diction. Aren’t the people of Japan blessed? Well, I am off to drive another country mad with my ramblings, so I suggest you locate an alternatie source for the unique perspective I have offered; perhaps you could have the medical school genetically cross a spider monkey with Bob Dole and train the beast to write a column. Or perhaps not . . . farewell all!

Web Master

I’ve packed a toothbrush, my home phone number, a voter card, the little red book, a pen, a few bucks, a little idealism, a lot of multi-vitamins, and my undying love and respect for the best team a gawky socialist could ask for; Team Redscare.

Mom, Dad, Willie, the cousins

Ace, le Chien, Nik, Reb, all the ladies, Snot and the rowers, ABH, EB, SP, AW, Big D and my homies, my darling M, the class of 2001.The Bush Family, corporate America, Chancellor Wrighton, Student Life, andthe late Tupac Shakur.And in the words of the esteemed Lion in Winter, wish me luck, we’re all gonna need it.

Web Master

Alec

Web Master

I have a confession to make: I am not a die-hard fan of Ani Difranco. I do: own four of her albums, and can sing along to almost all of them, and truly appreciate Ani as a figure repr senting everything that George W. Bush is not. I do not: own an Ani T-shirt, fanatasize about seducing her, closely follow her personal life, or love everything that she produces as a cardinal rule.
This is to say, I have never felt like I fit into the concert-going Ani demographic. The last time I saw her in concert, almost three years ago, I was too hot and got claustrophobic and cranky, wanting only to go home and listen to my Ani albums all by my lonesome.
When I entered the Pageant on Friday night, ticket in hand and jacket left behind for climate control, I would have called myself a concert-Ani-skeptic.
She won me over. It was like falling in love again, for the first time, like on those old people’s Folger’s commercials or something of the like. Maybe it was the venue: the Pageant was sold out, but my concert buddies and I had an adequate ground floor spot with space to breath. Maybe it was the $3 vodka and cranberry juice. Maybe it was the refreshingly mixed yet undoubtedly loyal and liberal crowd; there was lots of kissing, but it never got in the way of the music.
Or maybe it was Ani Difranco, in all her quirky splendor, that put on an outstandingly incredible show. Ani, the indie genius, appeared to have truly mastered the concert. She played the perfect amount of old classics, musical poetry, and new tunes, with a minimal amount of superfluous talk or wasted time.
Although it was a relief to hear some of her oldies such as “Untouchable Face” and “Shameless,” the expanded band and new sound lent them a distinctly new sound. Ani pulled this off grandly though, because the brute and painfully devastating beauty of most of her songs allow them to carry themselves. Come on, who can say their guts aren’t wrenched when Ani bellows the pent up angst of the heart-broken masses, “you’ll look like a photograph of yourself taken from far far away and I won’t know what to do and I won’t know what to do except fuck you and your untouchable face and fuck you for existing in the first place.”
Ani and her band only gave one encore, leaving the crowd satiated but not exhausted: just enough to ensure that we will undoubtedly be hungry for more. Ani Difranco has surpassed the identity of “a girl with a guitar” and has arrived as a true performer, combining true and unique musical talent with attitude and a political message to boot. Bravo.

Web Master

Will she threepeat? I’m not talking about a sports phenom, but WU’s own playwriting wonder, sophomore Marisa Wegrzyn, who recently won back to back 2nd and 1st-place prizes in the yearly A.E. Hotchner playwriting competition.
Last year, Wegrzyn’s play Polar Bears on Route 41 was chosen as the 2nd place winner of the Hotchner competition. On the strength of that play, she was also admitted to the prestigious WordBRIDGE program in St. Petersburg, Florida. Each year the program selects seven talented college playwrights for a two-week intensive workshop with some of the theatre industry’s most reputed writers, directors and dramaturges. Beyond being invited to participate in the noted program, Wegrzyn was also honored by having her play recently performed by the program’s host, Eckerd College.
The performances took place from April 11-15, and Wegrzyn recently flew down to see her play in action, which she says was both “exciting and frustrating.” “Exciting” she said, “because my words are getting the full theatrical treatment.once the lights go down, it’s going to unfold in amazing and sometimes unpredictable ways. It’s also frustrating because it’s not so much mine anymore and my control has been relinquished to the director and actors and crew.” Still, Wegrzyn was happy with the production. “The audience seemed to be sticking with it and laughing at all the right parts and keeping quiet at all the right parts.”
Her new play Killing Women tells the story of three female professional killers who are set against each other by their male boss. The play is superficially about the glass ceiling that exists for women even in a criminal subculture, but Wegrzyn says the play is also about ” strained friendships, the consequences of decisions, and why it’s not a good idea to throw candy and Kool Aid at strangers.” As part of the 1st place prize, the play will be directed by PAD faculty member Bill Whitaker and performed in mid April 2002.
What’s it like being John Malkovich’s assistant director? Just ask second year graduate student Kerry Mulvaney, who worked with him at the Steppenwolf Theater in Chicago and was also the 2nd place winner in this year’s Hotchner competition.
Mulvaney’s work with Malkovich grew out of a literary internship she was conducting at the Steppenwolf in the winter of 1999. One night at the theater she “bumped into the Artistic Director and started chatting about my areas of interest and my goals.” Mulvaney spoke of her interest in directing, and the next day, the same woman approached her offering an assistant directorship. “Of course,” Mulvaney remembered, “I said YES.”
Her job was not all glamour, but Mulvaney said the rewards were substantial. “Cigarettes were bought, lunch was gotten, and reservations were made, sure,” she said,”but more importantly I got to watch an amazingly talented, extremely intelligent and articulate man create a vocabulary with his actors and produce a striking piece of theatre over the course of 6 weeks.”
Plus, she worked with Malkovich while Spike Jonze’s movie Being John Malkovich was garnering critical acclaim and wild popularity, which made her position all the more thrilling.
Mulvaney’s new play, Chatter, which won 2nd place in the Hotchner competition, is about a teenage brother and sister who lose their mother in an accidental shooting. Despite the subject matter, though, Mulvaney emphasized that “this is NOT a sad play. It’s just about the way children deal with death compared to the media and older adults.” The play was inspired by real events in the life of one of Mulvaney’s good friends.
She says she wanted it to be “a joyful remembrance of an amazing woman and the inconceivable strength of a mother-daughter relationship.”
Right now, Mulvaney is exercising her true dramatic passion, directing, working with last year’s Hotchner winner, Peter Hanrahan’s Caught in Carnation. of which she said, “Its a very challenging play, so I hope that I did it justice.”