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From driving down dark, endless suburban California highways to exploring star–lit desert forests, songwriting duo Lila Dubois (C’ 25) and Miles Tobel are creating music that can’t be missed. In their premier album, Maybe This is a Bad Idea, the pair amplifies acoustic emotions into cinematic experiences. Through musical landscapes and gritty lyrics, their artistic relationship is one of sophisticated harmony.
On Feb. 9, 1958, Steve Allen and the guests of his Sunday night variety series marched through the NBC studios with Dinah Shore over to the set of her own show, singing and dancing all the way. The group followed cameras around hallway corners while performing Allen’s “This Could Be The Start of Something Big.” The final product survives in video form, a wildly impressive technological feat for its decade.
As a former Jenny Han addict, I knew I had to drop everything and watch The Summer I Turned Pretty the moment it dropped on Hulu. For the uninitiated, the book–adapted series follows the story of Isabella “Belly” Conklin, a 15–year–old whose family stays in a summer home at the Hamptons–esque Cousins Beach every year, courtesy of her mom’s well–off best friend Susannah and Susannah’s two teenage sons.
For the last two months, Netflix, the biggest streaming service in the world, has released its biggest show to date: Stranger Things Four. Undoubtedly, Stranger Things is Netflix’s flagship show, racking over 1 billion hours of viewership worldwide and closing in on Squid Game’s 28–day record of 1.65 billion hours.
One month ago, I had never used Gopuff, despite being tech–savvy and usually in–the–know.
I’ve never been in a romantic relationship.
Content warning: This article describes sexual assault, graphic depictions of abortion, and violence, which may be disturbing and/or triggering for some readers.
Watching America’s Got Talent (AGT) was a weekly tradition for my family. I was ecstatic to sit down on the couch with a mug of ice cream and watch act after act, from jaw–dropping danger stunts to elegant opera singers, performing in front of judges Howie Mandel, Simon Cowell, Heidi Klum, and Howard Stern.
Bo Burnham is back with some more “Content.” Open wide.
The human experience exists in color and motion. Visuals and emotions often capture events better than words, no matter how complex or provocative the event may be. When we see stories adapted on screen, we’re bound to gravitate towards lingering camera work, color contrasts that match the mood, and graphics that force us to look and listen. So it makes sense when Love Death + Robots describes itself as mind–bending. Its use of animation generates unseen adventure, both familiar and unfamiliar, and bends the rules for how humans see themselves in fiction.
On the first warm day of 2020, I rode my bike to Franklin D. Roosevelt Park, or as Philly natives call it, “The Lakes.” At Broad Street and Pattison Avenue, I followed the gravelly, soiled path that faded into a vast grassy lawn (it was once a golf course) but was now undoing itself into a knee–high meadow of yellow and purple weeds after the city shut down. I would sit under the same tree each day, kicking some leftover golf balls or watching groundhogs peek through the islands of trees, just waiting for a person to pass. During the first week of June 2022, the abandoned golf course that recently became “the South Philly Meadows” was gated to prepare for the hundreds of people expected there for the annual Philadelphia Flower Show.
Shopping for bras and underwear of any kind can be difficult.
Content warning: The following article includes mentions of suicide and eating disorders and can be disturbing or triggering for some readers. Please find resources listed at the bottom of the article.
For those who have been to Repo Records—an unskippable stop while walking down South Street—one of its trademark qualities is its attic–like crowdedness. The smell of incense wafts in from one corner and shelves of music memorabilia are squished in another. Band T–shirt racks fill the center of the store, and of course, the uncountable vinyl across its walls. It’s a space definitely known for its record signings, but one you wouldn’t expect to fit a concert inside.
Sophia the Robot, Robert Zemeckis’ The Polar Express, and Aldous Harding can all make you feel discomfort. But—barring any technofuturists or early–aughts CGI fanatics—only one has the power to make you feel something beautiful.
My mom recently reminded me of a call we had in the first weeks of my freshman year at Penn. She asked me if I felt comfortable at school. I responded, “Yes, but Penn is nothing like home.” My response suggests that I grew up in a sunny beach town or a quaint suburban neighborhood with pools in backyards and 50–person graduating classes. But surprisingly, the place I call home is a 20–minute walk from the Quad. I spent my first 18 years living in the same row home on the same pesky–to–drive–down narrow street, two blocks away from the Philadelphia Museum of Art.
The set of School Girls; Or, The African Mean Girls Play is made of an earthy color palette of oak, grass, and desert yellow, taking place in the cafeteria of Aburi Girls Boarding School in the mountains of Ghana. But the moment the Arden Theatre’s Arcadia Stage dims, the white–paper window paneling and tranquil plant silhouettes explode into a hot pink, covering the stage as an electric guitar cues five girls to sit down for lunch.
If you frequented YouTube in the 2010s, you probably came across Marcel the Shell With Shoes On, a three–part series of under–one–minute stop motion mockumentary–style videos following a one–inch–tall shell and his tiny life within the corners of a house and the comparatively large objects within it. The brainchild of filmmaker Dean Fleischer–Camp and comedian–actress Jenny Slate (at the time a couple, since separated), the Marcel the Shell with Shoes On shorts have now been expanded into a feature–length film produced by A24 and set for a summer release.
Lisa McGee’s hit dark comedy Derry Girls wrapped up season three on May 18. While the announcement of a season three left me eager to see my favorite characters again, I was also confused, since the end of season two felt like the perfect end to both the season and the series.
Over the footsteps of heels, you hear cackling as Florence Welch sings a monotone, a cappella harmony that stratifies into an indistinguishable sound of spoken and sung voice: “I met the devil / You know, he gave me a choice / A golden heart or a golden voice.” Florence + the Machine’s new album, Dance Fever, is threatening—a presence you can feel but can’t see. For the first time after her premier poetry book Useless Magic: Lyrics and Poetry was published, Welch’s new album comes with three “poem versions” of songs, literally challenging the lines between lyricism, vocals, and verse.
Solutions by The State News