Arts

Knep's 'Exempla' uses interactive digital media to explore serious questions

    Boston-area artist Brian Knep reinterprets the drives that motivate humanity in his exhibit, "Exempla," now at the Koppelman Gallery in the Tufts University Art Gallery. Heavy topic though this may be, Knep makes the refreshing choice to breach the serious subject with a sense of humor. Using an interactive digital medium and whimsically drawn creatures, in his six pieces Knep examines the impetus behind our choices as human beings.     The pieces, with titles such as "Escape" (2008), "Excel" (2009) and "Embark" (2009), are all projected onto the darkened gallery walls. The digital images begin with thousands of small stick-figure characters in a certain formation. The characters themselves resemble line drawings of eggs with crude faces, legs and arms. They are very expressive, evoking something between human and animal.     One piece starts with a projected grid with one animated character inside each square. The viewer can then manipulate this initial formation with the aid of a button, by turning a knob or by starting a timer. Each of the six pieces has a different tool with which the viewer can change the figures on the screen, and all produce different results.     The piece "Erect" (2009) starts with thousands of animated figures forming a massive, precariously wobbling, tower-like pile, which is projected into a simple, round area of light. Underneath the projection is a small metal knob which, when turned, causes the tower made out of the figures to collapse. The figures then turn around like socks in a dryer as the knob is continually turned by the viewer.     This collapse of the tower formation is not just caused by the viewer's turning of the knob. After watching the projection for a while, it becomes clear that the wobbling tower formation made by the figures continuously collapses after a period of time. Despite the repeated collapses, the figures ceaselessly reform the same wobbling tower shape — only to fall once again.     This cycle is thus affected by two factors: the interference of an external stimulus (turning the knob) and the small figures' own ceaseless efforts and failures. Knep makes a strong statement about the things humans strive to build and create, but which inevitably are destroyed by an outside force or simply fall to the passage of time. Perhaps more disturbing is the implication that man will be the cause of the destruction of his own creations.     Another piece, entitled "Embark," depicts a similarly fruitless scenario. This time, the projection of light is set up in two parallel, vertical test tube shapes. One of the test tubes is crowded with tiny drawn figures, all struggling and bumping around the shape of the projected light, while the other is more sparsely populated but with the same attempts at escape by the figures inside it. By holding down one of two blue buttons next to each projection, a bubble of light is formed, and a number of the small figures flock into it. This bubble then travels across the dark space in between the two projections, melds with the other projection and releases the animated figures into the other test tube.     Pressing either button results in an ongoing migration of animated forms from one test tube to the next. But once an animated figure has reached the other side, its struggle to escape does not stop. Like the animated figures in "Erect," the figures seem to be motivated by a ceaseless, irrational force that makes them set on one goal only — movement — with no regard for the result. "Embark" questions the purpose of the human desire for movement: Is it just a longing for change? Are there any plans for our movements? Or are they just a way to leave behind a situation we have created for ourselves and will create again in a new location? Again, Knep brings up heavy questions in a whimsical manner.     "Exempla" is a disarmingly entertaining exhibit that forces us to examine our own ceaseless habits, the patterns we repeat without thought every day. What are the forces that drive us? Do we even think about what is behind our actions, or do we, like the animations in "Erect" and "Embark," merely respond to stimuli?

Audiences soak in 'Beaches'

    Enchanting trapeze artists on the beach, a crazy cartoon cat with a robotic voice, the protagonist dressed up as a talking potato — all whimsical moments which make up the patchwork account of Agnès Varda's life.     Surreal events, such as a complete office staff relocated to work on a sandy beach, mix with old footage and jolt viewers out of their comfort zones. Varda lets her imagination and playfulness shine through in every scene, creating a visual biography that accurately reflects her nature.     "The Beaches of Agnès" is not a strictly chronological story. More than a simple autobiographical documentary, it is a montage of memories and images, both historical and personal. A boat on a river from a bird's-eye view, first-person perspectives and shots from the ground looking up are just some of the complexities used in the movie that make it stunning and unpredictable.     Agnès Varda is a renowned director who was part of the French New Wave, a movement that favored personal expression through film and long takes instead of many quick cuts. Her first film was "La Pointe-Courte" (1954), which she followed with what many call her most important film, "Cléo from 5 to 7" (1962). "The Gleaners and I" (2000) is a more recent film — a documentary about foraging, whether at flea markets, in fields or in trash bins.     Varda's latest film begins with a windy day on a beach, as tilted mirrors reflect the waves and sand. Agnès plays herself, walking barefoot in the sand while directing the crew to set up the camera facing the ocean. Her fuchsia scarf blows in the wind, whipping across her face. The wavering mirrors are indicators of the feeling of the movie — a slightly disorienting view of reality.     "Beaches of Agnès" incorporates history as well as personal details of Varda's life, giving every personal moment a historical context. Each decade has a different defining character for Varda — women's liberation, hippies and peace rallies, for example, characterize the sixties in America.     The movie is in French with English subtitles. The few words in English are jarring, breaking up the flowing French. In one scene, a couple has a nasty fight all in English, with the language making the cutting words seem even harsher.     The beautiful shots of the North Sea and later, the river beneath the Victoire and Tivoli Bridges, are continuous reminders of the importance of water and place. Varda says that she calls any man who looks out on the sea Ulysses, because he does not want to return home. Her enigmatic comments reveal a depth beyond her jokes and humor.    The vivid, saturated colors highlight the environment in which Varda lives. The background bursts out of the screen, and the film keeps the viewer's attention, waiting to see where Varda will go next.     This movie cannot be watched in the same way as a regular American action movie or chick flick. The viewer has to take each scene independently, as most of them are connected by nothing but Varda herself. Even though this film takes more effort to follow and enjoy than a predictable romantic comedy, it is worth it.     The movie becomes more emotional at the end, when Varda talks about the sickness and death of her husband, Jacques Demy, who died of AIDS at age 59. She films roses and begonias lolling on the floor in memory of her husband.     The most powerful shots in the movie are the close-ups of her dying husband. Varda explains that she deals with his illness by filming. At first it is hard to tell that the snowy hair and sallow skin belong to Demy. In 1989, AIDS was shameful; he never talked about his illness to his family or friends.     The fragmentation of the documentary corresponds with Varda's memory. She explains that her memory does not organize events by chronology; there is objective time, but also subjective time. Varda compares memory to "confused flies," which appear in a grotesque scene showing flies buzzing and crawling all over a nude woman.     Reality is played with and distorted in this film. There are scenes in which four separate narratives happen in four squares on the screen; mirrors reflect the cameramen and sound equipment; and Varda's face is superimposed over a shot of a desolate beach.     "If we opened me up, we'd find beaches," Varda says in the film.     "Beaches" stretches out Varda's vibrant experiences and visions in a luscious montage of comic, tragic and surreal moments. All the tiny grains of sand — in this case, the moments making up one woman's life — grip the viewer from start to finish.

Barrymore 'whips it' good

Autumn is typically the time of year in which movie studios begin releasing more serious, thoughtful fare. A film about roller derby, then, might seem a little out of place in the fall lineup. But like any good sports story, this one is not just about a competition; there's more to it than meets the eye.

Folk super group puts 'Monster' effort into album

Colin Beavan becomes the 'No Impact Man'

Owen boosts 'Boys' with brilliant performance

How can someone take complete care of someone else without knowing how to take care of himself? It's easy to assume that parents know exactly what they're doing as soon as a child is born, but this is decidedly not the case. "The Boys are Back" tries to address these issues and succeeds most of time, largely thanks to an incredible performance by Clive Owen.

Bye Bye Brownies!

I was sitting on my couch with a friend last week when I first heard that the New York City Department of Education (DOE) has effectively banned bake sales. We both looked at each other after skimming the post on Epicurious.com we were reading, utterly bewildered, and proceeded to have two very different visceral reactions to the story.

Take a ride in 'Zombieland'

In the ebb and flow of Hollywood trends, there are a few film archetypes that inevitably return and see a resurgence in popularity every few years: pirates, vampires and, of course, the undead. Strict horror movies rarely appeal to a wide audience, hence the adaptation of the hormone-ridden "Twilight" (2008) and now "Zombieland,"  a zombie comedy with touches of romance. Eschewing genre conventions and employing a very modern and hip brand of humor, "Zombieland," despite a lack of any serious weight, is a thoroughly entertaining romp through post-apocalyptic America.

Cougar Town' home to gender stereotypes

Most college students find it hard to believe that 40 is the new 20. It seems impossible that someone roughly our mothers' age could toss back shots, flirt with bouncers and bring younger guys home for the night.   

Hugh Laurie back in the 'House' for sixth season

There's no denying that any sane person would refuse to be diagnosed by a brilliantly cynical doctor with no morals and a crippling Vicodin addiction. But fans of Fox's hit show "House" agree that watching Hugh Laurie as Dr. Gregory House torment others with his cruel sarcasm is not only okay, it's much more entertaining than they'd care to admit.    

Harrelson and Eisenberg talk zombies, costumes

"Zombieland," out now in theaters, follows a few survivors of the zombie apocalypse and details the unlikely bonds they forge with each other. The Daily participated in a roundtable interview with the film's two principal actors, Woody Harrelson and Jesse Eisenberg. Question: What part of the script really caught your eye and made you want to do the film? Woody Harrelson: For me, it was mostly the 100 pages in between the front and back covers. Jesse Eisenberg:  That's a good part. Yeah, I would say everything except the title page, because when I saw it was a zombie movie, I couldn't imagine how it could offer a character that an actor would actually want to play. But from page one, it was clever, the lines were actually funny, the characters were nuanced and real and even the drama was touching. WH: I felt the same way, that it was bound to be stupid, but the writers really did a great job. Q: Did you find that the director had a specific vision, or was there leeway in where the scenes could [go]? WH: The director had everything storyboarded and was really very prepared, and I think that's best kind of director — almost over-prepared, but not to the point where he didn't allow spontaneity and input into things like blocking. He was pretty open-minded, which I think helps a film a lot. Q: How much creative input did you have into the characters? JE: The characters were very well-written and well-defined, except for Woody's character, who was supposed to wear "thick, ironic glasses" and I never knew what that meant. WH: I actually kind of liked the idea, but it was nixed. But I had never taken that much time over a character's outfit in my life, and I felt that the look was so important to the character. There were so many meetings over it, but you want to see the character and believe it right away. JE: The director originally wanted shirts with funny sayings, like [shirts from] BustedTees, and it was so over the top. There's a fine line with this movie, and it would have become an annoying kitschy thing, and thankfully it didn't. So we ended up just going to American Apparel and picked out some clothing. Q: What was the process of getting into character? WH: I mostly just smashed s--t up. JE: I've been getting into character for 25 years. So there wasn't much research to be done, it was mostly about defining how comedic you could be while staying realistic. Q: Was there any improv in the scenes? JE: We were filming on video, not film, and that gives you a lot more leeway to improvise, so after we finished a scripted scene, the director would let us improvise, which lends a sort of freshness and spontaneity that's lost after like 20 takes, so some of that is in the movie. Q: Both of you have done work in both theater and television. How would you relate those experiences and would you like to return to them in the future? JE: I want to be a playwright, ultimately, and people are reading my play now because I'm in a zombie movie. I wrote a musical that's going to be produced soon, it's called "Me Time." It's a satire on modern self-indulgence. WH: Theater is what really drew me to this fine profession. I love it and want to get back to it soon. I was in London recently, doing Tennessee Williams' "The Night of the Iguana," and I really liked the production and how it turned out, so I'm eager to get back to it. Q: Are there any projects that you've done that you regret making? WH: Oh yeah, although, there's no point in really talking about them. JE: Usually you know on the first day of shooting, "Oh, this was a mistake." Every day on the set of "Zombieland," I thought "What am I doing here, I'm doing terrible," but when I saw the end result, I was a bit more happy with my performance. WH: And you realized it was all in your head.

Lying' is a cinematic sin

There is no fiction and no flattery in Mark Bellison's world, just facts. Mark is Ricky Gervais' character in the new comedy, "The Invention of Lying," and, as the title suggests, the only person in his world who can tell a lie. The unfortunate truth is that the film only works for a while, and then takes a tragic dive into snide mockery.       

Five' is not quite heaven

    Do you ever wonder what it would be like to mix a bunch of different foods together in a blender and eat it? Sure, by themselves the ingredients all taste great, but together they just don't mix.     The same concept applies to Oliver Hirschbiegel's new Irish film "Five Minutes of Heaven." As separate entities, the acting, tone, screenplay and directing style all could work, but together they struggle to produce a coherent movie.    The film opens with a flashback, revealing 17-year-old Alistair Little who wants praise and acceptance from his Protestant crowd in Northern Ireland. Circa 1975, times are tense, and violence looms around the corner between Protestants and Catholics. Alistair plots to murder a Catholic teen, and although the justification is murky, he decides to go through with the plan. When he gets there, his target's young brother, Joe, is outside kicking around a soccer ball. They lock eyes, but Alistair is in too deep to turn back; he puts three bullets into his target and flees.     Fast forward to a few decades after the murder. Joe (James Nesbitt) and Alistair (Liam Neeson) are in separate cars on their way to meet each other for the first time. The details are a bit vague, but the media has organized a get-together for the two men in an effort to promote reconciliation and forgiveness. With revenge on his mind, Joe attends the meeting with an ulterior motive while Alistair simply wants to express his deep regret.     The acting anchors the film throughout its 90-minute running time. Even though the script leaves very little to work with, the two headliners squeeze every ounce of juice they can from it.         As Joe, Neeson is Mr. Reliable, giving the audience a quietly powerful performance. Alistair, the supposed villain of the film, seems arrogant at first, but beneath his exterior lays a sullen man full of regret for his past actions.     Surprisingly, though, Nesbitt outshines his counterpart. This is partly because the script gives him much more to work with, but it is also attributed to his acting talent. With distinct, blood-shot eyes, Nesbitt brings an obsessive weariness to the role. He's always so full of anger that he could snap at any moment. In a better film, he would be on the fast track to awards and big-time recognition.     Hirschbiegel is best known for directing the lauded 2004 Hitler film "Downfall," but here he fails to live up to that standard. His style employs too many stagnant medium shots that would better fit a documentary. The flashback works well and maximizes the stakes, but the rest of the film is not quick enough to keep up. The subject matter requires built-up tension, but the slow pace works against the slim potential the script offers and never achieves that heart-throbbing sensation.     That being said, Hirschbiegel's use of sound is fascinating. Portions of the film are dominated by the ticking of a clock or heavy breathing and allow for some tension to seep through. The sound comes across as desolate and bold without being too gimmicky, and it stood out as a major plus.     Then there's the ending. Screenwriter Guy Hibbert must have been trying to send some optimistic message, but it definitely falls flat. The first 80 minutes of the film deal with such strong personal issues and would seem to build up to some amazing crescendo, yet it never climaxes the way one might expect. The ending is too neat for a movie that tries to live in reality. Everything gets wrapped up in a bow and loose ends are tied. How do feelings brewing for decades get resolved in mere days? It is illogical and cheats the viewer.     Hirschbiegel and Hibbert present some very valid questions about reconciliation and revenge. Unfortunately, those questions may best be answered in a documentary dealing with this subject matter instead of through an action flick set in Ireland. Ultimately, "Five Minutes in Heaven" has great ambition but only average execution, leaving the audience wondering what could have been.

Religious humor deserves resounding 'Amen!'

    The lights may come up on over-stuffed, doily-laden furniture in "The Savannah Disputation," but the dotty set is not portentous of what's to come.     Written by a young Savannah, Ga. native, the play follows a few days in the lives of two elderly, Catholic sisters whose beliefs are rocked when they are visited by a young, beautiful and fervent evangelical missionary. Unwilling to give in to the young woman's rhetoric, the sisters invite the missionary back to their home along with an unsuspecting Catholic priest, providing the audience with an unorthodox, oftentimes hilarious, sometimes meditative, theological discussion of a sort hitherto unseen on stage.     The irony that playwright Evan Smith creates so effectively in his script is beautifully highlighted by director Paul Daigneault through his depiction of opposites. In the beginning, the audience hears loud, lively gospel music before the lights come up on a small, Southern home clearly inhabited by elderly women.     The appearance of a young, female missionary (Carolyn Charpie), who is promptly turned away by the alpha female of the pair of sisters, Mary (Nancy E. Carroll), immediately sets the comedic tone of the show. When the unfazed young woman shouts through the door that "Jesus loves you!," a disgruntled Mary mutters "I know Jesus loves me. It's you he hates."     The show strikes a masterful balance between quick, biting comedy and actual soul-searching. Though the overwhelming majority of the show is fast-paced, well-written hilarity, serious themes save it from being a complete fluff piece.     Early in Act I, a woman from the doctor's office leaves a message stating ominously that Mary's test results are in and she should schedule an appointment with the doctor. The significance of this message is never explained, but its connotations create a dark, looming background to the show's light comedic ambiance.     Age and what happens after death are themes constantly alluded to in the actors' discussions, and this keeps the audience grounded in real-world concerns despite all of the sisters' humor.     The play's premise is strongly reminiscent of the 1939 play "Arsenic and Old Lace," as it centers on two friendless, elderly sisters luring young folks into their home under false pretenses. This has been done before. But Margaret and Mary differ from the main characters in "Arsenic." The "Savannah" sisters are aware of problems that they and others face, and are not naïvely attempting to put people out of their misery. Half of the jokes poke harmless fun at religious culture in America, but the other half reflect a very real religious uncertainty that any audience member likely can relate to.     "The Savannah Disputation's" small cast is absolutely brilliant in this production. Boston theater veterans Carroll and Paula Plum are both extremely winning as sisters Mary and Margaret. Charpie is a true highlight as Melissa the missionary; Charpie's youth and ever-flowing spring of energy create an interesting dynamic on the stage.     Timothy Crowe as Father Murphy, the sisters' local priest whom they hoped would serve as their holy attack dog on Melissa, brings another compelling angle to the show. The three other characters are all easy to sympathize with, but all three grow hysterical at different points throughout the play. They get upset over their religious disagreements, but Crowe spends most of his time seated on the couch, an anchor of calm in the storm of the other characters' antics.     Audience members at any stage in life can relate to the old ladies of "The Savannah Disputation" because they do what any human of any race, gender, or age does: They question the world around them about truth, about God and religion, and are not satisfied until their discussion reaches a conclusion, or until they conclude that there is no conclusion and that satisfies them once and for all.

It's back to work in 'The Office'

    It's the sixth season of "The Office," and the workplace is buzzing with craziness as usual. The fresh season promises a different perspective than before, as previously supporting characters are finally getting some spotlight while lovebirds Jim Halpert (John Krasinski) and Pam Beasly (Jenna Fischer) give viewers a little romance (and normalcy) in the background. With tried-and-true tricks and some new twists, this season guarantees continued Thursday night laughs and all of the uncomfortably hilarious, awkward moments that make the NBC mockumentary so charming.     The past five years may have lulled viewers into acceptance of the insanity that is "The Office," but season six shakes things up. The first step: some new characters. Enter the summer interns in the premiere "Gossip." Their reactions to the work environment, the job requirements and manager Michael (Steve Carell) mirror the feelings that viewers first experienced back in 2005. Mock sexual harassment, hazing through menial labor and stereotyping through celebrity nicknames make viewers grateful to be participating in "The Office" from the comfort of their homes.     For the season premiere, gossip is in the air at Dunder Mifflin, aided and abetted by Michael. In an attempt to draw attention away from the one true rumor he "accidentally" reveals, Michael invents a bunch of stories and starts spreading them around. Inevitable mayhem results, as Andy (Ed Helms) doubts his sexuality and the staff ultimately learns that Pam is pregnant.     The second episode of the season, titled "The Meeting," develops stronger and longer-lasting plotlines. Probably in response to impending fatherhood, Jim is angling for a promotion. He meets with a corporate representative in private. This, of course, makes Michael feel abandoned, and a stealthy recon mission involving Michael hiding under a cheese-cart ensues. In typical fashion, Michael sabotages a promotion for himself and makes matters worse trying to fix things.     Previously supporting characters seem to be getting more screen time this season — and they really shine. Dwight (Rainn Wilson) and Toby (Paul Lieberstein) go on a detective hunt to verify Darryl's (Craig Robinson) injury claim. Meredith says she'll have whatever is the most expensive meal option at Pam's wedding, unless there are ribs on the menu. Oscar (Oscar Nuñez) is understandably peeved at people consulting him for gay-related matters, be it Andy asking him for dating advice or Michael wanting to know the protocol for a colonoscopy.     The strongest sign that the show will focus on other characters this season lies in its attention to Stanley (Leslie David Barker). He vents his anger about his secret being revealed in "Gossip" by beating Michael's car with a lead pipe — a bold move considering this guy is known for crossword puzzles and monosyllabic responses.     In addition to promised character developments, season six will also have more of Jim and Pam in store, as the couple that viewers have rooted for since the very beginning of "The Office" will soon tie the knot. What has kept this relationship fresh over the course of the show is how real and relatable their story is. The fact that "Jam," as they are called by fans, have survived multiple roadblocks is a testament to their love and a beacon of hope to couples everywhere, cheesy as that may sound. In previous seasons, their timing has been off, but this season the pair seems solid so far.     Regular viewers of "The Office" will be satisfied with season six and new viewers may be tempted to eat up all five previous seasons in one sitting after witnessing the show's sharp cubicle comedy. Without a doubt, "The Office" will continue to entertain — and make viewers grateful (or jealous) that their workplace isn't Dunder Mifflin.

Rebecca Goldberg | Abroadway

There are some places on this earth that seem to laugh in the face of natural order. Studio lots are among them.     The size of a small city in their own right, they exist only for the creation of movies and television, housing dozens of fake apartments, half-bars and partial street corners. Besides the modest looking offices, studio lots seem to frown on streets with buildings and rooms with four walls.     On the day I arrived in L.A., sometime between being picked up at the airport and accidentally finding my apartment complex by myself in my new rental car, my family friend Janet thought it would be a good idea to take me to the 20th Century Fox lot, where "How I Met Your Mother" is shot. She thought that it would be nice to show me where I would be going before my first day. Perhaps she also thought that it would keep me from freaking out around other people (and embarrassing her) upon first seeing the set for MacLaren's Pub, the show's version of Central Park.     "HIMYM" (pronounced "him-yim" by both my friends and the show's creators) shoots on Stage 22. The building is located somewhere between the giant Julie Andrews poster and the Star Wars mural (when the massive warehouse door slides open, the terrible likeness of Mark Hamill is decapitated). The soundstage itself isn't quite as grand as I'd been taught to imagine by behind-the-scenes featurettes for big-budget movies (this is a four-camera sitcom, after all), but it's indeed a large, tall space. And the sets look smaller in person, although I suppose I was expecting that.     The weirdness didn't really hit me until I almost stumbled onto the set for Ted's tiny kitchen. Though large sheets cover the furniture pieces for the other rooms on non-shooting days, the kitchen remains intact, down to the tchotchkes on the fridge. This is where Marshall (Jason Segel) and Lily (Alyson Hannigan) consummate their engagement in the pilot, where Ted (Josh Radnor) and Robin (Cobie Smulders) make crêpes in "Slap Bet," where Barney (Neil Patrick Harris) wimps out of telling Robin he loves her in "Benefits," where ... I'm sorry. I just nerded out for a second.     The point is that the phrase "breaking the fourth wall" is more literal than I ever realized. In fact, I'm still uncomfortable walking onto the sets when I cut through the stage. When I step from the concrete aisle way onto the fake wood flooring, I keep expecting someone to tell me to get off or stop soiling it because I don't belong.     It's the darndest thing, though — no one ever does. Somehow, I've been granted the privilege of stepping through the invisible fourth wall and examining the things about the construction of the show that are both more fake and more real than they look.     (One of the funniest gags on "HIMYM" is the never-ending stream of jokes about Canada at Robin's expense. On set last week, Cobie Smulders, who's also Canadian, corrected Jason Segel's pronunciation of "gouda," and he rejoined, "What, is that what they call it in Canada?" She shot back, "No, in Holland, where it's from, douche.")     At the end of my second day in the office, I decided to cut through the empty stage to get to the parking garage. And I couldn't resist: I stopped at the gang's signature booth at MacLaren's, which is positioned right in the front, where the fourth wall of the room should be. As I sat, my heart raced. I couldn't believe where I was.     Then I heard the security guard call, "Is anyone in here?" and, in a panic, I rushed out, back to real life.

Modern Family' conquers comedy lineup with funny script and interesting cast

After canceling two-thirds of their Wednesday night lineup ("Pushing Daisies" and "Dirty Sexy Money" ) and moving "Private Practice" in order to powerhouse Thursdays, ABC made a risky move this season: launching five new shows on Wednesdays, four of them comedies. So far, though, it looks like the network will at least find success with "Modern Family," one of the funniest new shows on television.

Top Ten | People Who Should Host SNL

Megan Fox, the robot she is, did a shabby job hosting the premiere of SNL this week. We can guarantee the following individuals would have topped her performance:  10. Garfield: He's lazy, fat and orange. What could be funnier than a totally apathetic animal host? Sure, Odie might be cuter, but Garfield would hopefully hit on Kristen Wiig.  9. Judd Apatow: The man behind many recent, smash-hit comedies is often heard from, but rarely seen. Let's get Mr. Apatow in front of the camera for once and see what kind of chops he has.  8. Zombie Michael Jackson: Too soon? We think not.  7. ET: Those buggy eyes! That long, wormy neck! Who wouldn't love to see an adorable alien conduct skits in broken English?  6. The Tisch Library Voice: "Attention, attention please. I will not shut up for the next 30 minutes."  5. Robert Pattinson: No one's asking him to be funny ... or even act. All Rob has to do is stand on set and he'll have girls in the audience swooning and screaming for him.  4. Dick Cheney: The heart attack and accidentally-shooting-people-while-hunting jokes alone would keep us entertained for hours. We are, however, a little scared that he'd come after us if we laughed at him.  3. Julia Child: Meryl Streep as Julia Child would also do. Just so long as that high-pitched voice and towering figure take the stage.  2. Joel McHale: With a hilarious new TV show this season ("Community"), this host of "The Soup" has proven he's got staying power. McHale is practically satire royalty, and a one-night reign on SNL is long overdue.  1. Alec Bladwin: Even though this "30 Rock" star has hosted before, we love him too much to give up hope that he'll host again. Baldwin's versatility and ability to keep a dead-pan expression are much needed traits in any SNL guest star these days. We're looking at you, Jimmy Fallon.

From the Office of the Tufts Daily

Dear Roman Polanski,    

Classical inspires contemporary at the Gardner Museum's special exhibition

Seeing contemporary art in the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, renowned for its collection of Italian Renaissance paintings, may surprise visitors. Indeed, the special exhibition "Su-Mei Tse: Floating Memories" is jarring at first, as it contrasts so sharply with the rest of the museum's collection.