The Arts Desk’s weekly picks for music, movies and more 

By SAVANNAH ANNO — arts@theaggie.org

In honor of Hispanic Heritage Month, enjoy these four picks created by Hispanic and Latinx artists! 

Song: “Lejos de Ti” by The Marías (2024)

Referring to themselves as the “psychedelic-soul lovechild” of lead singer María Zardoya and band member Josh Conway, The Marías blend almost every genre under the sun: indie rock, funk, latin pop and even jazz. Simply put, listening to The Marías makes you feel cool.

“Lejos de Ti,” the eighth track on their most recent album “Submarine,” details the isolating aftermath of a breakup. With trance-inducing vocals, Zardoya promises to keep her ex-lover in her memories forever, despite how much it may hurt at first, and begs him to do the same. 

While the lyrics seem simple on the surface, what may be most interesting is the possible backstory behind the breakup song. Along with tracks like “Sienna” and “Echo,” fans speculate “Lejos de Ti” was based on the real-life split between Zardoya and Conway who were in a relationship from 2016 to 2022. In “Lejos de Ti,” perhaps the two are promising to each other that despite the end of their romance, they’ll keep their memories intact in order to preserve their creative partnership. 

Movie: “Pan’s Labyrinth” dir. by Guillermo del Toro (2006) 

As Halloween begins to creep up on us, so do those childhood monsters we used to look for under beds or behind closet doors. For me, one of the scariest was del Toro’s Pale Man, a monster whose eyeballs were not kept in his head but on the palms of his hands. The story begins with Ofelia, a young girl living in 1944 Spain, who moves to the countryside with her pregnant mother and violent stepfather. As the stepfather, Captain Vidal, begins to hunt down Spanish rebels, Ofelia is whisked away into her own mission. Meeting a faun who leads Ofelia to believe she’s the reincarnation of a lost, otherworldly princess, she is given three tasks to complete through an ancient stone labyrinth. Faced with monsters in both the real world and underground, Ofelia’s fantastical journey works to represent the historical conflict of Francoist Spain, a period of dictatorship following the Spanish Civil War. With a meticulous eye, del Toro is able to perfectly balance horror, folklore and history in this perfect October watch. 

Book: “Blackouts” by Justin Torres (2023)

I first heard of Torres last fall in a queer fiction course when we read and revered his debut work, “We the Animals” (2011). In his second novel, “Blackouts,” Torres grows into an even better writer as he weaves a story that feels unreliable and all too real at the same time. The book tackles the issue of queer erasure both literally and figuratively. Struggling with gaps in his consciousness, 27-year-old narrator Nene seeks out Juan Gay, an older man he met a decade prior at a mental hospital. Both institutionalized for being queer, Gay, who is now on his deathbed, bestows upon Nene his unfinished task of chronicling the research of Jan Gay, who interviewed queer folk and even published a book, “Sex Variants: A Study of Homosexual Patterns” (1941). 

Torres brilliantly blends real life history with his own fiction: Jan Gay was an actual researcher, and the book really was published in 1941. The title “Blackouts” references the copy of the Jan Gay book passed down to Nene that is selectively filled with scribbled-out words and paragraphs to form new messages and meanings. Similarly, the book was misconstrued in real life when it was used by other researchers to create stereotypes and criminalize the queer community. As Nene works to commit Juan Gay’s oral history to memory while immortalizing the stories that came before him, the pair recount their lives and experiences in an emotional whirlwind of a novel. Coupled with unimaginable prose, the story will leave you inspired, probably sobbing, but most importantly — hopeful. 

TV Show: “Los Espookys” by Julio Torres, Ana Fabrega and Fred Armisen (2019) 

By coincidence, another Torres! Switching out heartbreaking for hilarious, “Los Espookys” has proved Julio Torres to be a comedic visionary. Beginning as a writer for Saturday Night Live — which led to four different Emmy nominations — Torres left the show in 2019 to begin his own projects. With Fabrega and Armisen, “Los Espookys” marks the beginning of a universe all of Torres’ own: brightly colored, blunt and ultimately confusing with its out-of-this-world scenarios — literally. 

Following a group of four odd and supernatural-obsessed friends, “Los Espookys” tells a classic tale as each character learns the importance of following their dreams and staying true to themselves. Unlike these classic tales, the characters’ dreams include success in the horror business. Each episode chronicles the team helping a different customer by faking the existence of aliens, sea monsters and other strange creatures. As the show progresses, the line between real and imaginary gets increasingly blurry as they become involved with strange politicians, cursed mirrors and psychic water spirits. Blending creepy and creative, “Los Espookys” serves as a love letter to the strange. 

Written by: Savannah Anno — arts@theaggie.org

The animation industry needs more original films, not sequels

By AALIYAH ESPAÑOL-RIVAS — arts@theaggie.org 

There is currently an ongoing trend in the animation industry: sequels. More specifically, sequels, threequels and tetralogies of films that do not need another installment. As children, we were told that the princesses lived happily ever after and that’s it. But not anymore. Instead, studios such as Disney and DreamWorks are choosing to continuously produce installments of blockbuster films at the expense of original stories.

This year alone, three of the highest grossing animated films were all sequels or tetralogies. “Kung Fu Panda 4,” “Despicable Me 4” and “Inside Out 2” have made a combined box office of nearly $3 billion worldwide. Moreover, this November “Moana 2” is slated for a Thanksgiving release, a primetime slot that will no doubt make millions for Disney. 

Although these sequels are often a financial success, they oversaturate the movie production field and can bar the production of new, original movies.

This can happen due to two reasons: either there isn’t any promotion for the non-sequel films or it is shucked to streaming services. The biggest culprit of this act is Disney and their treatment of their subsidiary Pixar Animation Studios. During the pandemic, Pixar provided audiences with original stories such as “Turning Red,” “Luca” and “Soul” despite being released on the Disney+ streaming service. Once audiences returned back to the theaters, however, Pixar stopped producing original films once again.
The first Pixar film released post-pandemic was “Lightyear,” a prequel to Pixar’s first film franchise, “Toy Story.” Despite the love for the original “Toy Story” films, the movie bombed at the box office, causing Pixar executives to go back to the drawing board. 

Additionally, two Disney animated films were released and performed poorly as well due to minimal promotion: “Strange World” (2022) and “Wish” (2023). As a result of expectations not being met repeatedly, Disney and Pixar returned to what is most comfortable: pre-existing properties that are known to make money, otherwise known as “Moana 2” and “Inside Out 2.” 

“Inside Out 2” is now the highest grossing film of 2024. Its success, while a win for Pixar and Disney, is a worrisome sign for the future of animation. 

At the D23 Expo this year, the conference hosted yearly to announce Disney’s newest projects across their subsidiaries of Marvel and Pixar, they confirmed more sequels. It was announced that “Frozen 3,” “Frozen 4,” “The Incredibles 3” and “Toy Story 5” are slated to be released by 2030. Other than Disney, “Shrek 5,” “Sonic the Hedgehog 3” and “The Super Mario Brothers: 2” are also slated to be released by 2026. 

Despite expectations not being met for original films, studios should not give up on producing them. There are plenty of new original animated films releasing soon such as “The Wild Robot,” “Piece by Piece” and “Transformers One,” that deserve the same recognition as all of the sequels from this year.

Although sequels make millions, it’s only a matter of time before audiences lose interest in these beloved characters. These studios need to realize what made them stand out was their original stories. By only producing sequels, they are tabling their ability to creatively produce new, rich narratives.

Written by: Aaliyah Español-Rivas — arts@theaggie.org 

The children’s movie holds up even when viewed through an adult lens 

By JULIE HUANG – arts@theaggie.org

As adults, circling back to films we watched as children can often evoke feelings of nostalgia and joy that are reminiscent of the twists and turns of childhood. One such film is “A Bug’s Life,” Pixar’s second computer-animated film, which was released in 1998. 

The film follows Flik, an ant with a penchant for inventions that seem to cause more harm than good to the ant colony that he calls home. Having been subjugated by a group of grasshoppers, the ants must gather food for both themselves and their tormentors, until one of Flik’s inventions destroys the food offering. Princess Atta sends him on a mission to find warrior insects to defend the colony against the grasshoppers — a disguised ploy to get rid of him for good. When he comes back with a group of circus bugs that he believes are strong warriors, Flik realizes that he must devise another plan to protect his colony, using his knack for inventions. 

There are some things about “A Bug’s Life” that may not hold up during a rewatch 26 years after its initial release. For one, the crowd shots feature dozens of CGI ants moving in synchrony and all sporting the same facial expressions. The disproportionate scale of the characters also inspires feelings of uncanniness. In real life, seeing a garden ant nearly the size of a grasshopper would probably be a terrifying experience. 

Despite these flaws, the movie itself ultimately makes for a valuable experience due to its lighthearted approach to a mature story and themes that might have been accompanied by a much darker atmosphere if not written for a children’s movie. When viewed by those who have gained the perspective of adulthood, it is clear that “A Bug’s Life” contains heavy concepts such as power struggles between groups of people (or insects) and glimpses into the strategies used by oppressors to maintain hierarchical systems of oppression. 

These ideas are handled with care and woven seamlessly into the plot and dialogue of the movie, so that every scene seems believable instead of heavy-handed. An explanation coming from Hopper, the leader of the grasshoppers, on how to crush the ants’ spirits so that they forget their strength in numbers seems like a sufficiently villainous speech for the main antagonist of the movie. Meanwhile, older viewers are able to make the connections between Hopper’s actions and real-life dynamics between oppressor groups and the people they oppress. 

The movie’s plot is also driven by the pressing concern of finding enough food to support oneself and one’s family unit. The idea that food is a necessity is obvious to all, including children. However, adult audiences, who are more closely acquainted than children with the daily ins and outs of buying, preparing and budgeting for food, may more readily appreciate the arduous effort the ants must put in to gather foodstuffs. 

Rewatching the film in adulthood also adds new emotional layers to the characters, brought about by adult audiences’ ability to draw from a larger bank of lived personal experiences and reflections on those experiences. Flik’s beginnings as an outcast with different interests and attitudes than the rest of his colony are reminiscent of the classic adolescent experience of feeling different and therefore isolated. As the audience follows his character arc from outcast to celebrated hero, they are presented with the idea that their interests and ideas, no matter how different, hold the key to personal fulfillment. Already a valuable message to receive in childhood, older audiences who have lived through circumstances similar to Flik’s are able to bring their own memories to the film, infusing the viewing experience with rich personal meaning. 

As a children’s film, “A Bug’s Life” is appropriately cheerful and silly, featuring a bright color palette and an eclectic cast of characters. The childish visuals and cheery atmosphere are supported by a well-developed foundation of themes and concepts with the potential to resonate with audiences much older than children.

Written by: Julie Huang — arts@theaggie.org

Matt Talbott plays a solo show at Armadillo Music

By ELIZABETH BUNT — arts@theaggie.com

On Oct. 2, after the storefront closed for the night, a small crowd of music lovers quietly descended on Armadillo Music, a vinyl record and CD shop located in downtown Davis on F Street. The main draw was a one-man show played among the boxes of records. The artist was Matt Talbott, the former lead singer and guitarist of the alt-rock band Hum.

Leading up to the show, there was little to no press provided by Armadillo. The only sign that a concert would take place was an Instagram post featuring Talbott’s name and the incorrect date for the show. In true indie fashion, those interested in attending had to track down Talbott’s Facebook (which had not been linked to the Armadillo post) and buy tickets from a third party website. Armadillo capped the number of attendees somewhere around 30. Anyone who had not bought tickets through the Facebook page was able to enter only by paying in cash.  

Once inside, the crowd settled around the tiny stage set up in the front corner of the shop. An Armadillo employee at the back of the store served beers on tap and chatted with the regulars. Alongside couples, the unofficial uniform of black band tees and jeans seemed to ring true with the middle-aged audience. College students filled in the gaps among them in groups of three or four, with many sporting fishnets and long hair. 

Talbott emerged and took a seat on stage in a wooden chair with green cushions that looked like it could have come from an estate sale that morning. He wore a shirt that read, “Someone in Des Moines Loves Me.” The lights went off in Armadillo, save for a single spotlight aimed above Talbott’s head. The audience rustled as they sat in front of his feet and amps, and the air could only be described as reverent.   

The show itself was simple and intimate while the music was moody and atmospheric. By way of instruments, Talbott only had his two acoustic guitars and an analog foot pedal that allowed him to loop background noises and his voice. He played for just over an hour, telling stories about life on the road and the Sacramento DMV in between songs. Occasionally, Davisites illuminated by the streetlights outside would walk past the windows, peer into the darkened store at the little gathering and continue on their way. It only added to the ambiance and uniqueness of the concert.  

When Talbott had finished his set, he stood and met audience members among the walls of CDs and vinyls. He sold some t-shirts and posters and signed old Hum records but mostly chatted with members of the crowd who had somehow found out about the concert and who were delighted to hear him play.  

For anyone looking to have a different night out in Davis or for music lovers looking for their scene, Armadillo after hours is the place to be. Despite being a niche event, the staff and audience at Armadillo were incredibly welcoming. The events are small and companionable; each one offers something different, something not found at house shows or campus concerts like Sunset Fest or Lawntopia. If you can overcome the challenge of figuring out who is playing (and when), you will be rewarded with a night of music so intimate it feels like it’s being played for you alone.  

Written by: Elizabeth Bunt — arts@theaggie.org

Rockstar Games’ critically acclaimed video game is considered one of the greats, but it’s the game’s emotional core that makes it so phenomenal 

By NATALIE SALTER—arts@theaggie.org

In an industry so diverse in its offerings, it can be hard to properly define what qualifies as a video game masterpiece. No two games are fully alike, and there are a thousand different factors to consider: the gameplay itself, the story, the quality and performance of graphics, the characters and their motion-capture performances, to name a few. This sheer volume of variables means that a game can seldom satisfy every single qualification and hit every single mark without sacrificing something else in the process. 

The most detailed and expansive of open-world games are often weaker in their stories; those games which are motivated by storytelling first and foremost often limit themselves to that narrative and offer the player little freedom beyond it. Thus, it is no small accomplishment for a game to not only balance but succeed in each and every one of these categories — and if there is one game that has done this exceedingly well, it is the 2018 action-adventure title “Red Dead Redemption II.”

Remaining to this day one of the most critically acclaimed games of the last decade, Rockstar Games’ “Red Dead Redemption II” is a genuine triumph of the modern video game. Players are thrust into a captivating fictionalized picture of 1899 America as Arthur Morgan, an esteemed member of an infamous gang of outlaws fighting to retain their lawless ways as the age of the gunslinger comes to a close. Once the expository passage of the game is completed and all of the features of its world and gameplay become available, what ensues for any new player is an unforgettable experience which is nearly impossible not to fall in love with. 

Filled with lush scenery and incredible detail captured with the game’s hyper-realistic graphics, it’s hard not to fall in love with the immersive world “Red Dead Redemption II” creates. The landscapes are expansive and full of thousands of unique quests, conversable side characters, skill-based activities such as fishing or bounty hunting, secrets and even treasure maps leading to piles of gold. The game’s attention to detail and commitment to immersion is genuinely commendable. The world of “Red Dead” feels alive in every sense: characters interact with each other around your camp and beyond regardless of player intervention; wolves play with each other in the snow; and construction workers hammer individually animated nails into boards. With thousands of possible conversations and discoveries, the entire world reacts to and interacts with the player as vividly as the player interacts with it.

The game’s story is likewise anything but forgettable, following the inner workings and disputes of the central Van Der Linde gang as they are hunted by government agents and embroiled in the sociopolitical conflicts of the regions they pass through. It is a feat of video game storytelling that is relentless to the end, leaving you hardly able to turn the game off for a second. 

Moreover, the characters are brilliantly crafted and brought to life by the voice and motion-capture acting. Protagonist Arthur — the subject of no small amount of critical praise for his deeply emotional journey and striking internal and external struggles — exhibits a complexity of nature and growth which is near unparalleled in the video game industry. His interpersonal relationships are just as captivating, interacting and connecting with the gang’s members as they all struggle to find a way out of a world that is closing in on them from all sides. None of the emotions, relationships or decisions integral to Arthur’s story are middling in impactfulness. The result of this is one of the most human characters created in the industry who, if you choose to play “Red Dead,” will prove to be unforgettable long after you’ve moved on to other games. 

Among the many components of this game to note, one of its most daring implementations is an honor system wherein the player receives positive or negative “honor” points according to the morality of their choices throughout the narrative and beyond. This honor level affects the course of the story and even the ending of the game, pushing players to interrogate their own decisions and what they believe to be right. From being given the choice to give money to a beggar or help a lost man find his way home to making incredibly weighted choices near the game’s end, players are, just like in real life, continually given the opportunity to do what is right for themselves or, though it may be inconvenient or hard, the kind choice. The combination of the branching honor system and the sheer variety of ways in which players can confront situations they find themselves in ensures that no matter how many times you play the game, you’ll have a new experience every time.

It is an achievement on its own to create a game as detailed and enjoyable to play as “Red Dead Redemption II”; it is another to intertwine this experience with a deeply moving story which may bring even the most stoic of players to tears. “Red Dead” boldly ventures to ask us what we consider “good.” Can a person be entirely good or evil by nature? Are we defined by our mistakes, or by our acts of good? Is it only the largest and most sweeping acts of righteousness that change the world for the better, or are the little kindnesses we can carry out each and every day just as important? These questions, left largely to the players themselves to answer, lay the foundation of the game’s story. Although players can choose to live as reckless and bloody a criminal life as they wish, it is the “high honor” arc of the game that is perhaps the most impactful. 

The world is complicated; it’s often filled with pain and fear, and doing the right thing is seldom easy. And yet, you can choose to be kind, to help the people and places around you even if it is in the littlest of ways. That, “Red Dead” seems to insist, is the true meaning of courage. And if there’s one thing to take away once you put down the controller and wander back into the uncertainty and fear of real life, it’s that you are brave and capable enough to change the world, one loving act at a time.

Written by: Natalie Salter—arts@theaggie.org