Rachel Muzika Scheib

Veganize This!: From Surf & Turf to Ice-Cream Pie--200 Animal-Free Recipes for People Who Love to Eat

mandy — Mon, 04 Apr 2011 08:00:00 +0000

One of the struggles faced by many vegetarians, vegans, or any other person who has a restricted diet is that you can no longer eat the “comfort foods” you enjoyed earlier in your life. One of my favorite foods to eat when I was a child was beef stroganoff. I can still taste it when I think about the flavors, aromas, and even its delightfully sloppy appearance. Alas, I no longer eat red meat, so beef stroganoff is not a part of my culinary repertoire. And although I’ve made the low-rent version with mushrooms and cream sauce, the flavors and aromas that went along with this venture are just not as memorable.

Veganize This! author Jenn Shagrin gets this quandary, and thoroughly addresses it in her cookbook. A self-described “lazy vegan” who grew up enjoying Italian and Chinese food in a Jewish home in Youngstown, Ohio, Shagrin respects the importance that certain rich, classic recipes can hold in our lives. She succinctly describes the dilemma of eating according to your ethical perspective, while creating food that not only tastes amazing but appeases your nostalgic side as well. The goal of her compilation is to help people recreate recipes that were originally centered around meat, in a stellar vegan style.

Despite her self-description, Shagrin's recipes are anything but lazy. She has created concoctions that are ambitious, interesting, and sometimes a bit terrifying. In the mood for meat and potatoes? Try dijonaise-crusted "beef" tenderloin medallions with vegan béarnaise sauce over roasted eggplant and garlic smashed potatoes. Anyone up for chicken wings? Bourbon buffalo mole "chicken" wings with vegan bleu cheese-avocado oil aioli are sure to please.

The titles of the recipes aren't the only things that are long; the ingredients lists are extensive as well. No one ever said creating carnivorous dishes in a meatless fashion would be easy. However, due to time constraints and a lack of confidence, I made the vegan bacon as my test recipe.

Aside from having to purchase a few items I don’t keep stocked in my kitchen, such as liquid smoke and mirin, I possessed the vegan staples needed to make the bacon, such as soy sauce, tofu, and onion powder. After a few hours of marinating in the fridge, and then some baking in the oven, my "bacon" strips were done! Anyone who is a former omnivore knows that there is nothing under the sun that can rival real bacon; however, this version was meatier and more substantive than the frozen kind you can get at the grocery store, and infinitely cheaper to boot.

Most of the recipes in Veganize This! require ample time and preparation, and may require ingredients that are not at your local grocery. But I wholeheartedly recommend this book as a staple for anyone who promotes environmental, social, or animal welfare in their diet. Want to enjoy your Grandma’s best recipe, but you no longer eat beef? Veganize This! ensures you will not be disappointed.

Written by: Rachel Muzika Scheib, April 4th 2011

Sleepwalking Land

gwen — Thu, 03 Feb 2011 20:00:00 +0000

Directed by Teresa Prata

Global Film Initiative

Based on the novel by Mia Couto, Sleepwalking Land showcases the bittersweet journey of an older man and a boy as they meander through the war-ravaged countryside of Mozambique. Initially, Muidinga and “Uncle” Tuahir are seeking the basics: food, shelter, and safety from traveling gangs. Tuahir had pretended to be Muidinga’s uncle when they were residing in the Xalala refugee camp. The boy was presumed dead until Tuahir noticed otherwise, and by claiming a familial bond, the man was able to take the boy under his wing. Now the two are seeking refuge from the refugee camp and are in a truly nomadic, transitory situation.

When Muidinga and Tuahir make a burned and looted bus into their temporary home, they find passengers’ belongings among the charred remains of the bodies. Muidinga finds and begins to read the diary of a young man named Kindzu to the illiterate Tuahir. This discovery transforms their day-to-day existence into a purpose-filled trip through the past and present, while helping them to develop a goal for the future.

The much-needed escape afforded by Kindzu’s stories reminds Muidinga and Tuahir that people will go to great lengths to find and create family despite the grips of a gruesome civil war. Along with the goat that Muidinga finds in the bushes, the pair decide to travel to the sea to find Kindzu’s love Farida, and complete the quest that Kindzu described in words but was unable to finish.

Along the way, Muidinga and Tuahir meet a variety of characters, both in reality and by way of Kindzu’s stories. All of these interactions help the two to create their own story, and to build their relationship to the point that Tuahir asks Muidinga to call him Father. At the beginning of the movie, Tuahir gruffly tells Muidinga that “In wartime, children are a burden.” His rough, realistic attitude is a testament to a life that has required him to harden himself to continual sadness. But the two clearly bring each other joy as well, as is apparent when Tuahir tells Muidinga to eat a piece of foraged fruit with care: “Eat slowly, so you can taste every color.” The old man gradually divulges information about Muidinga’s parents and past as their journey progresses, and it is easy to see the development of their dynamic from that of near-strangers to kin.

A few years ago, I reviewed the Cuban film, Alice in Wondertown. This film commented on the Cuban communist government through the lenses of psychological illusions and absurd humor. While Sleepwalking Land is not as explicitly political as Alice in Wondertown, both films vividly examine the mental processes of people who are coping with loss, oppression, and social alienation. They both focus in particular on how traumatized individuals create fantasies to handle desperate situations, and how these dreams begin to seamlessly weave their way into the fabric of reality.

Written by: Rachel Muzika Scheib, February 3rd 2011

Trailerpark

annette — Sat, 08 Jan 2011 20:00:00 +0000

Directed by Patrick Muhlberger, Jonny Look

MDIA419 Productions

Trailerpark is a student-made feature length production by Ohio University’s MDIA 419 course. It is based on the book of the same title by award–winning author Russell Banks.

Despite an initial comment by another viewer that the sound quality was not good, we both agreed that visually, the film had much to offer, and that story-wise, there was a lot of (mostly) intriguing information to absorb. The first half of the film takes us directly to the trailer park, and right into the chaotic dynamics of the characters’ lives. The park itself is quaint; it sits beside a tranquil lake and the trailers range from tidy and finely decorated to decrepit bordering on vacant, or at the very least neglected. This early observation helped me to understand one of the subplots that emerges later in the film: the park “landlord,” Marcelle, is attempting to fill all of the trailers in the park. Meanwhile, she is forced to hound some tenants for their monthly rent. Ultimately and unfortunately, unpaid rent ends up being one of the least pressing problems on Marcelle’s growing shit list.

In these early stages, the relationships between characters are not clear, and honestly, some relationships aren’t really explained until the very end of the film. For me, as a viewer who has not read the novel by Banks, this was a source of frustration. I found myself asking, “What’s with the looks between Doreen and Terry?” “Why is Knox spying on Flora?” One of the characters even took the words right out of my mouth when he asked his neighbor, “How come you never work?” Perhaps a viewer who has read the novel that the film is based upon would be amused by this deliberate (?) withholding of information. Sometimes it is fun to see relationships unfold. But most of the time, it’s helpful to know why you are supposed to care about what is happening between particular characters.

However slow to reveal themselves, by the end of the film I had a solid idea of the motivations behind certain people. I had a better idea about their individual stories. And by having this information, I was able to care about the various woes that surrounded them. And although there were fairly long portions of dialogue with little to no action, the trailer park wasn’t a quiet place. Theft, fire, kindness, murder, and a winning lottery ticket make their way into the residents’ lives as well.

Trailerpark was a good film, but it could have offered me more reasons as to why I should be invested in the plight of the characters. Perhaps if there were fewer characters in the film, more time could have been devoted to assessing these characters’ psychological hang-ups, previous relations with each other, or explaining how they ended up in this particular place. At one point, Flora defends a very questionable practice to her neighbors, telling them “What might look worse and worse for you, might look better for me.” For those who have read the novel, the delayed and somewhat chaotic cohesion of characters may make the film better, more intriguing, and ultimately more enjoyable. For viewers like me, who desperately needed some kind of Trailerpark compass at the film’s outset, it made my experience worse.

Written by: Rachel Muzika Scheib, January 8th 2011

Adrift (Choi Voi)

admin — Sun, 15 Aug 2010 01:00:00 +0000

Directed by Bùi Thạc Chuyên

Global Film Initiative

At last year's Venice Film Festival, Adrift won the FIPRESCI (International Federation of Film Critics) Prize. With its lush scenery, layered characters, and startling soundtrack, it’s not hard to see why the film stood out to an international panel of jurors.

The film is in Vietnamese with English subtitles and is set in various Vietnamese locales, including Hanoi, Quang Ninh, and Hoi An. Jam-packed streets filled with tiny tuk-tuks and motorcycles are juxtaposed with lonely, gorgeous beach campfires at sunset. The sights and sounds of Vietnam play a large role in the film, but the characters and their ambiguous, conflicted emotions take center stage.

Our female protagonist Duyen (Do Thi Hai Yen) is a beautiful and happy newlywed. She admits to her friend Cam (Linh- Dan Pham) that she is content to have “settled” on a life that makes her happy. Cam is unable to hide the myriad of negative emotions that she feels in response to Duyen’s union with Hai (Duy Khoa Nguyen), a boyish cab driver. Cam’s physical expressions paired with her vague verbal musings make it hard for a viewer to discern the root of her negativity. Is it because she is ill? Jealous?

Tho (Johnny Tri Nguyen) is introduced when Duyen makes a delivery to him as a favor to Cam. The relationship that ensues between Tho and Duyen is chaotic, lovely, and not quite right. Likewise, Hai embarks on a friendship with a young neighbor that blurs the line between right and wrong, appropriate and inappropriate. In both cases, there is a power dynamic at play, in which the female has been or could be victimized by one or multiple men. Cam seems to be exempt from this rule, as her character straddles the continuum of masculinity and femininity.

If you are seeking clarity, tidy conclusions, or even an a-ha moment, Adrift may leave you disappointed. Feel like spending the afternoon in a rain-soaked relationship kaleidoscope? Then this is the film for you.

Written by: Rachel Muzika Scheib, August 14th 2010

Levantine Indulgence

admin — Thu, 27 May 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Gaida

Palmyra Recordings

Singer and composer Gaida’s debut album Levantine Indulgence is named for Levant, the Fertile Crescent’s desert oasis. Aptly named, this album offers listeners an abundance of vocal and instrumental styles that even the most resistant listeners can find nourishing and enchanting.

The opening track, “Dream,” begins with rhythmic clapping and percussion and a chorus of male voices who share vocals with the lead singer. I should clarify by referring to sharing and “trading.” This distinction is important because the contrast of Gaida’s voice with the male singers makes this short song into a true performance. The vocal banter between Gaida and the men reminded me of a musical where the lead female actor is center stage and the men in the chorus sing to her with the purpose of wooing or impressing her. But in the case of “Dream,” the men sing with Gaida at the end of the song. Unlike a traditional musical from an earlier era, where the woman needs to fend off potential suitors with clever lyrics and a silky voice, in this modern version Gaida works with the men, but the song is still decidedly hers.

“Kaifa Uhibuka” transports the listener to a smoky, jazz club with purple walls and red, plush booths. When I close my eyes and listen to this track, I’m a patron of this club, sipping gin and smoking a clove cigarette, while I lean back into my lush surroundings to enjoy the music. I despise gin and I no longer smoke, but the song evokes feelings of real or imagined indulgence, and yet sadness. I felt that this song represented the overall mood of the album even more than the title track.

Another track that evoked this mood was the beautiful ballad “Ghayeb.” The piano, cello, and flute blend with Gaida’s vocals to create a song that expresses love, longing, and caring. Despite the fact that the lyrics are not in English, my eyes filled with tears as I listened to “Ghayeb.” Without even knowing what Gaida was saying, I could feel the pain and loss in her voice. When you hear a song like this, it can cause you to have a flashback to a situation that may have been painful, or one that caused you to feel a sense of bittersweet regret. Granted, this isn’t exactly a desirable feeling, but if a song can make you feel this way, I think that’s pretty powerful.

Gaida has lived in Germany, Damascus, Detroit, Paris, Kuwait, and New York. Through the incorporation of jazz, bossa nova, ballad, Tarab (ecstasy) songs, Arab folk, and traditional Arabic maqam (modes) and improvisational style in her music, it is easy to see that she has carried pieces of these places with her as she has traveled the globe. Some people would create a scrapbook or a photo album of their diverse living experiences; Gaida has produced an audio diary of her musical and emotional journeys, and the listener can feel her sentiment with beat of the bass, the raining piano notes, and memorable melodies. On the album cover, the artist in fact states that she, “will always sing with tears close to my eyes, beats pounding my fragile heart, and care wrapping the entire world.”

Written by: Rachel Muzika Scheib, May 27th 2010

Variety

admin — Sun, 21 Feb 2010 09:00:00 +0000

Directed by Bette Gordon

Kino International

Christine is desperately seeking employment. She doesn’t want to leave New York City and return to Michigan to teach, and doesn’t feel confident that her writing will bring in sufficient income. Although Christine’s story is happening in 1983, the same story could be told as a result of today’s recession. What do you do when you can’t find a job in your field? Well, you branch out and find the first job available.

It turns out that the first available job is as a ticket holder in a box office at an adult theater in Times Square. A few days after she begins the job, Christine meets her boyfriend Mark at a diner for lunch. He is a reporter focused on finding the connection between an organized crime group and the fisherman’s union. Christine listens politely to the details of his investigation and then reveals her new job to him.

Excitedly, she begins to describe the atmosphere of the Variety theater. Her clients are lonely and depressed, for the most part, but some are business men. She assures Mark that she never works alone. She works with the ticket holder, Jose, a vividly entertaining Luis Guzman. The theater smells of Lysol, and a lot of the chairs are broken. Christine is taken by surprise when Mark abruptly states that he has to leave, and that he will call her.

Most of the human interaction in Variety happen in this manner. One person is talking, one is listening. One person is being watched, the other is watching. Half of what we learn about Christine is relayed through answering machine messages. Relationships don’t appear to be reciprocal, and Christine’s actions don’t appear to be guided by a goal or even a particular interest. While Christine becomes interested in adult film and literature throughout the course of the film, it is unclear whether this interest is a result of an already existing curiosity she held, or if she is simply becoming more knowledgeable about her new line of work.

Variety offers thought provoking material for a feminist. Are relationships ever reciprocal, or equal? Are women empowered or degraded (or both) by working in the adult industry? The film introduces situations that allow for questions like these to be discussed. It adds to the discourse on women’s sexuality and a subculture that is geared towards the desires of a heterosexual, male population.

A part of the storyline that frustrated me involved Christine and Mark’s relationship. He is clearly unhappy about her choice of work. The two date throughout the movie, although the frequency of these dates decrease as the movie progresses. During their time together, Christine recites the plots of the latest films that have played at the Variety. The content is always explicit, and while she recites the events with fervor, Mark either ignores her or listens with an aura of quiet anger. It seems as though Christine is attempting to prove to Mark that she is enamored with her new career, but be is not convinced. I’m not either.

Written by: Rachel Muzika Scheib, February 21st 2010

Social Theory: The Multicultural and Classic Readings

admin — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 01:03:00 +0000

Edited by Charles Lemert

Westview Press

The fourth edition of Social Theory: The Multicultural and Classic Readings offers a lesson in sociological practice that moves beyond the atmosphere of a university auditorium. This collection is arranged in chronological order and organizes the Modern Era into distinct historical categories. However, the overarching themes of decentering, discourse, and difference are incorporated into the discussion of each era in a way that is seamless yet meaningful.

Lemert’s expressed goal in creating a comprehensive collection that combines sociological masterpieces with yet unexplored pieces is to simply provide people with the knowledge to live better lives. Social theory, argues Lemert, can bring people power, pleasure, understanding about their social worlds, and most importantly, the ability to put their experiences and observations into words. Social theory thus allows people to explore and express inequalities and social disruption, investigate class warfare and communication breakdowns, and discern how differences between people can be magnified, nullified, or respectfully approached.

It’s especially interesting to read this collection at this point in time. Honestly, it will probably always be considered a reflexive, thoughtful text, but some of the pieces that I read were almost predictive of the current global state of affairs. For instance, in 1919, John Maynard Keynes offered an economic philosophy that recommended state policies which would control and direct the economy. In recent history, conservative talking heads could be heard lambasting “Keynesian Economics,” as the government takeover of the free market. Today, we know that the market doesn’t always stabilize as effectively as Capitalists say it does, and it could be argued that Keynesian Economics seems to be more sensible than Socialism.

The role of women in this collection of essays is hardly marginalized, however, since the writings move from older to more recent, a greater selection of feminist writers emerges towards the book’s end. The feminist selections in this anthology are theoretical yet practical, and seem to focus mainly on the topic of difference. Both social theorists and non-theorists can garner inspiration and motivation from the lessons provided in these pieces. In "The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House," Audre Lorde states that meaningful discourse can help women and other historically oppressed groups to “take our differences and make them strengths.” Likewise, Nancy Hartsock advises that “we can construct an understanding of the world that is sensitive to difference.” Within the context of globalization, Saskia Sassen moves beyond the realm of language and argues that issues of participation and representation should take center stage in current feminist analysis.

Could this mean that globalization is helping the world to become more sensitive to difference? I’m not sure, and they authors don’t say either. But that’s one of the goals of this collection: to make you ask questions and decide on the answers yourself.

Social Theory: The Multicultural and Classic Readings certainly provides readers with an array of arguments that don’t always coincide with one another. However, Lemert’s personal argument to readers can be witnessed in nearly every essay. That is, to think about the social world around all of us. Because by thinking, observing, and expressing our sentiments about this fascinating world, we are using a critical eye, and ultimately, improving our own lives and hopefully, others’ too.

Written by: Rachel Muzika Scheib, November 19th 2009

Alicia en el Pueblo de Maravillas (Alice in Wondertown)

admin — Wed, 20 May 2009 17:05:00 +0000

Directed by Daniel Diaz Torres

First Run Features

As Alice in Wondertown begins, a sense of foreboding emanates from the screen. Alice is running along a beach, away from an invisible threat, and her ill-fitting boots are impeding her progress. She makes it to the main road, screaming to a truck full of workers for help. After what seems like a full minute of Alice screaming, the truck finally screeches to a halt and the occupants acknowledge the distressed woman in the street. Alice gratefully hops aboard the back of the truck.

As the truck begins to roll along again, a tall, hooded figure rises above the rest of the passengers and again Alice is sent into a screaming panic. With a look that can only be described as sheer mania, Alice rises to face the figure walking towards her and, in one swift movement, causes it to be thrown from the truck and off the bridge the truck is crossing. Later, investigators from the Cuban government scouring the crime scene can find no body, no clothing, and no evidence of a body having fallen from a 100-foot bridge to the grass below.

This scene can be considered a metaphor for how the rest of movie seems to work. There is always a form of tension or distress looming in the distance, but it is hard to explain how much of this distress and the resulting actions are actual or merely perceived by the protagonist, Alice. Much like Lewis Carroll’s Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, the film straddles the line between the sane and the absurd, and absurdity seems to win out in the end.

The film is set in the small town of Maravillas, where Alice becomes a drama teacher after leaving her office job, and her lover Serafin. The night of her arrival, Alice settles into her roach infested hostel room and rips down a poster describing the virtues of hard work. While at the sink in the bathroom, she opens up the mirror to find that, rather than seeing a medicine cabinet, she is facing Omar Rodriguez, who will become her companion and defender throughout the film. They greet one another and partake in momentary small talk. Omar has a face full of shaving cream and Alice is still getting over the shock of finding a person in her medicine cabinet, so they say goodnight. Omar leaves her by saying, “Maravillas loves the theater, it’s in the blood.”

Throughout her days in Maravillas, a vision of Serafin repeatedly appears to Alice. He calls her naïve and tries to persuade her to return to her old life. She ignores his pleas, saying that she has no troubles in Maravillas and would like to stay. However, she never offers Serafin or viewers a reason as to why she decided to go to Maravillas in the first place.

Alice faces resistance and anger from town residents as she attempts to modernize their annual play. A rabid debate ensues over whether learning history is more important than creating change. Alice argues in favor of change, saying that it will make the play more interesting and more enjoyable for everyone involved. This assertion causes some of the Maravillans to become frenzied with anger, and Alice must leave the play rehearsal quickly.

After the tumultuous and non-sensical play rehearsal, Alice begins to become of aware of the many strange and backwards seeming sights, people, and situations that she sees daily in Maravillas. Sitting on a bench in the scorching Cuban sun, Alice confides in Omar that she has the desire to write about the strange stories of Maravillas. She is in disbelief that no one has published the ridiculous stories of the place already. Omar, who was always staunchly in support of Alice’s progressive ideas, now tells her that she is naïve. A loudspeaker vomits as he says these words. The distinction between reality and illusion is now completely non-existent.

Alice in Wondertown is worth seeing if for no other reason than to view a Cuban film that reflects the rich culture and struggle of this nation. After the movie set attendance records when it was initially released in 1991, the Cuban government stopped showing it on the grounds of indecency and absurdity. While the film is full of political observations masked in absurdity—like Alice’s closing moral, “You’ll never get far with fizzy water that you have to shake”—it offers a strong female protagonist and a cast of truly unforgettable characters. Are the political and artistic illusions in the film symbolic or merely 'theater'? That’s up to you to decide.

Written by: Rachel Muzika Scheib, May 20th 2009