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Around the Water Cooler

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Ryan Reisert

FOOTBALL — All hell broke loose south of the border this weekend as Nos. 2, 4, and 5 in the BCS standings lost in stunning fashion. Losses for Oklahoma State, Oregon, and Oklahoma open the door for a rematch between SEC-rivals LSU and Alabama in January’s national championship. Here in Canada, McMaster beat Acadia, and Laval had their way with Calgary in the national semifinals. The two will meet in Saturday’s Vanier Cup. Finally, the Cooler hopes that it has created some new CFL fans through constant exposure, and that they’ll be watching when the Winnipeg Blue Bombers take on the B.C. Lions on B.C.’s home field in Sunday’s Grey Cup. In the NFL, the Green Bay Packers improved to 10-0, leading every single pundit in the sporting world to speculate on whether the team will go undefeated. 

BASEBALL — Free agency took a back seat to more sartorial news this week, as two AL East teams announced major changes to their respective brands. Toronto fans have been calling for a return to the Blue Jays classic look for years, and their wishes have been answered by the organization. The Jays’ new identity is an update of the old logo that adorned the team’s caps in the glory years of the early ‘90s. In Baltimore, the Orioles also decided to change the bird on their hat to one more associated with winning than with the ornithologically-correct specimen that they have worn since 1989. Like Toronto’s winged mascot, the Orioles’ new cartoon bird is an update of a previous logo that Baltimore wore when it won its three World Series. Will the new looks lead the Jays and O’s out of the AL East basement?

HOCKEY — The NHL and Pittsburgh fans got exciting news Sunday when the Penguins announced that captain Sidney Crosby would return to the lineup Monday night against the Islanders. Crosby, who hasn’t played in nearly 11 months due to a concussion he sustained in the Winter Classic on New Year’s Day, is so important to the league that CBC will broadcast a rare weekday game—between two American teams no less. This newspaper will have already gone to print before the Isles-Pens game, but the Cooler expects that the Kid got a standing ovation worthy of a newly inaugurated president, and that his team played an inspired game.

BASKETBALL — The NBA lockout continues, but that hasn’t stopped some of its players from playing elsewhere. Utah Jazz forward Andrei Kirilenko has returned to his native Russia and his old team CSKA Moscow. Kirilenko has been one of the Euroleague’s standout players in the young season, but suffered a broken nose on Saturday. On the fringes of Europe, Jordan Farmar, one of the NBA’s few Jewish players, is experiencing success with Israeli club, Maccabi Tel Aviv. Leading the European powerhouse in scoring, the Cooler thinks Farmar is probably enjoying being the team’s star player. CSKA and Maccabi are probably hoping that the lockout never ends.

Arts & Entertainment

The Marriage of Bette and Boo might end ugly

by Akiva Toren on

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Emily Doyle / Players’ Theatre

Dark comedy is a perplexing concept. Though initially a contradiction in terms, most people understand the subtlety involved in such a label. The work may make upsetting issues “lighter”; perhaps, conversely, it may convey typical subjects of comedy in acidic, disturbing ways. In both of these interpretations, there’s a little guilt attached to our laughter, and a bit of awkwardness about the comedy. Some things just shouldn’t be funny, and yet they are.

Christopher Durang’s The Marriage of Bette and Boo, through the nuances of the script, makes us feel that uneasiness with our laughter. But, despite commendable efforts, the Players’ Theatre production, directed by Jordana Deutsch and Benjamin Sher, often elicits unintended discomfort from the audience by missing those nuances.

The play, narrated by Matt (Aaron Neishlos), tells the story of his two unfortunate parents, Bette (Kara Rosen) and Boo (James Kelly), and their immediate families. Made up of roughly 33 quick scenes in no particular chronological order, it recounts various episodes of their lives from their wedding day to death, chronicling tragic yet humorously blithe incidents of alcoholism, verbal abuse, spousal tension, mindless Catholic devotion, and even five stillbirths. 

With these scenes coming in quick succession, interrupted periodically by Matt’s intellectual monologues, the play gets confusing, and sometimes it’s hard to see where it’s going—or where it’s coming from. That is often the point; as these various scenes accumulate, one appreciates a general sense of dysfunction in Matt’s family that somehow transcends time and place. Matt describes his family quite succinctly: “Meaning well isn’t enough.” Every single one of his family members has a quirk, a fundamental flaw that is incompatible with everyone else. Whether it’s from an altercation between his nervously devout Catholic aunt Emily (Hannah Siden) and cynical aunt Joan, or his alcoholic grandfather Karl (Caleb Harrison) treating his wife worse than he would a bartender at last call, one can only echo Matt’s defeated chuckle.

Because of the mishmash of scenes, the direction of the play is hard to place. While the first and last scenes frame the play in a classic dramatic fashion, what happens in the middle seems like a maze. 

Unfortunately, this production lacks a concrete development to help assuage the confusion. After an hour, the play quickly loses steam. Once one understands the dysfunction, the quirks, and flaws of Matt’s family, and the despondent nature of his parents halfway through the play, it doesn’t have anywhere to go. The script is written flatly. Since the scenes are jumbled, it’s up to an interesting interpretive production to bring nuanced shape to the “story.” The characters, though intriguingly despicable, are no longer interesting after an hour. One court scene, for example, draws out a joke of an incomprehensible lawyer to awkward lengths; Bette’s hysteria loses intrigue; Boo’s flat acting fails to warrant sympathy. 

Many of the actors also seem like they were talking at, rather than with, each other. Though this is sometimes necessary to convey the miscommunication between family members, the characters nonetheless recite some of their lines in a vacuum that obscures genuine conversation. 

Furthermore, due to the number of scenes, quick transitions are absolutely necessary. Though this was done with relative ease, due to the space and limited resources, watching characters set up scenes for others was distracting. With the flow of the play occasionally interrupted by these awkward transitions, the lack of shape seemed even more apparent. 

That said, some of the actors made the play more enjoyable. Aunt Emily’s nervousness and perpetual guilt is tangible through her wide eyes and nervous stuttering. Taylor Lowery as Grandma Soot (whose name’s origin is hidden in comedic obscurity) was hilariously perfect. Max Lanocha as the oddly sardonic Father Donally and callous doctor brought genuine laughter to every scene of his (I’ve never seen such a fine impression of bacon). 

This play, though a very interesting work, is a difficult one to execute. Despite laudable efforts, it requires nuanced efficiency that is hard to find in this production. 

 

The Marriage of Bette and Boo runs from Nov. 23-27 at Players Theatre. Tickets are $6.

Arts & Entertainment

With The Artist, silence is golden

by Chris Liu on

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The Artist is cinema for cinephiles. Set at the dawn of the Golden Age of Hollywood, it’s at once a post-mortem and celebration of the silent genre. Director Michel Hazanavicius crafts a rich, beautiful world using minimalist cinematic strokes by today’s standards, and in his effort takes the viewer through the rabbit-hole to where films were born.

Right from the first title card—”1927″—and the iris-style opening shot, the audience is made aware of The Artist‘s peculiarities. Made entirely in black and white, with nearly zero dialogue, the film defies many of what are regarded by today’s movie-goers as film conventions. In doing so, The Artist benefits. Much literature exists on the heightening of remaining senses when one is lost, such as richer tastes granted by dining in the dark; in much the same way, Hazanavicius’ resurrection of the silent film is a reminder of the vigour with which occasionally-neglected elements such as score can evoke emotions. 

The titular character is George Valentin (in a Cannes best actor-winning turn by Jean Dujardin), a wildly charismatic and successful star of silent films. By fate he encounters a budding actress, Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo), and imparts some timely advice. The film then chronicles Miller’s subsequent ascent to stardom and Valentin’s parallel fall from fortune as a result of the invention of “talkies.” It’s the story of Singin’ In the Rain, kicked under the carpet. 

Plot aside, by replicating the best of silent films within his own, Hazanavicius inspires a wondrous nostalgia for a genre that is, admittedly, not without advantages over modern Hollywood. These were the days when the climax was found in the tension of soaring strings, not CGI-enhanced characters arcing through the air in a slow-mo held far too long. Composer Ludovic Bource also deserves accolades. Hazanavicius also admits to being drawn to the genre for its emphasis on visuals; he should be content with Guillaume Schiffman’s cinematography, which served his script well. 

Dujardin was wonderful as Valentin, and his skill is shown through the kid-at-heart sympathy he invokes in the audience being carried through to the very end of the (rather zealous) self-destructive streak demanded by the script. Bejo’s Miller is radiant, and though not comparable to Dujardin, appeared well-fitted to the melodrama.

After nose-diving through significant layers of misery, the plot manages to avert a fiery crash with a hard upward pull right at the end. However, its predictability doesn’t lessen its impact. The denouement is a nice refrain of an all’s well that ends well mentality—except of course, the silent genre is still dead. I may never see a newly-made silent film in my lifetime. Nevertheless, that doesn’t mean Hazanavicius’ 100 minutes of Lazarus was anything but magical. 

Arts & Entertainment

Harold and Kumar, rehashed

by Sam Hunter on

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filmofilia.com

On the all-time stoner comedy list, A Very Harold and Kumar 3D Christmas doesn’t sniff any of the classics—Up In Smoke and Half Baked are safe—nor does it approach the charm of its White Castle predecessor; however, no one’s going to argue that this movie isn’t a good time. And, by pulling the trick that so many marginally enjoyable movies have lately—appearing in 3D—it’s probably worth going to the theatre to watch.

This movie opens six years after the events of Harold & Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay. In the interim, Harold (John Cho) and Kumar (Kal Penn) have grown apart and found new best friends. The differences in their lifestyles and personalities have grown too: Harold has a large house, while Kumar lives in a tiny, squalid apartment; Harold is more uptight than ever, whereas Kumar has let himself go almost completely to seed. The two are reunited when Harold’s father-in-law’s Christmas tree burns down and they go on a quest to replace it.

The plot is weak, but the Harold and Kumar series has never been about plot, or even pot for that matter. It’s about the incredible chemistry and general likeability of the two stars, Cho and Penn. Everything else is just window dressing. Unfortunately, the film forgets this, as the two don’t share enough screen time. Given the high-profile names in the supporting cast, giving side characters opportunity to develop makes sense on paper, but not in practice.

Amir Blumenfeld of CollegeHumor’s Prank War fame does his usual shtick (if you liked him on CollegeHumor, you’ll like him here, and the opposite) as Kumar’s nerdy, internet-romancing, pot-smoking replacement best friend. Thomas Lennon fills the same void for Harold, and his anal-retentive routine is at times funny, at others grating.

The presence of these two new characters, however, represents my biggest problem with the script. The most unbelievable part of the story wasn’t when Harold shot Santa, nor was it when a drugged-up baby crawled on the ceiling—it was when I was informed, at the beginning of the film, that Harold and Kumar weren’t friends anymore. It was ludicrous. The level of friendly chemistry they’ve displayed over the years sets the industry standard in the same way Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams’ romantic chemistry in The Notebook does.

Luckily, they’re reunited pretty quickly, but the audience is forced to wait longer for the return of Neil Patrick Harris, who comes in on a song and dance number, showcasing his musical theatre talents before making his usual raunchy contributions to the film. If he doesn’t steal his scenes quite as adroitly as he did in White Castle, that’s probably only because we’ve seen this act more than a few times now, and there aren’t too many places left to go with it.

A Very Harold and Kumar 3D Christmas is exactly what you would expect. It’s not great, but it’s fun, and just as forgettable as an afternoon spent smoking pot. 

Sports

Martlets Capitalize in Ottawa

by Adam Sadinsky on

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Five was a significant number for McGill on Sunday as the women’s hockey team won their fifth game in a row with a 5-1 victory over the Ottawa Gee-Gees in the nation’s capital. Leslie Oles led the way with two goals and an assist while first-year forward Mélodie Daoust contributed three helpers in the winning effort. Continuing along the lines of Martlet success coming in fives, McGill held Ottawa to five shots in each period and earned five powerplays. Martlet goalie Charline Labonté also got credit for her fifth win of the season. Head Coach Peter Smith was extremely happy with the effort.

“I thought we played extremely well in the Ottawa game. We controlled the puck, and had a ton of shots, leading to scoring chances,” Smith said. “There are many things we can take from this game both now and for the future.”

With the win, the Martlets maintain their first place ranking in the RSEQ, and will return home this Friday for a rematch  against the Gee-Gees, before battling Concordia on Nov. 27.

—Adam Sadinsky

Sports

Another bright flame snuffed out

by Sam Hunter on

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For a week, boxing was alive and well in the memory of its fans. Like George Foreman in 1994, when the then 45-year-old won the heavyweight championship, boxing beat back father time and became relevant, even central, to sport for a few short days.

This renewed interest was set off by a tragedy, the untimely passing of a great man. Smokin’ Joe Frazier, an Olympic gold medalist and a world heavyweight champion in arguably the greatest era of heavyweight boxing, died of liver cancer in his home on Nov. 7, at the age of 67.

One of the many who mourned his death was Muhammad Ali, Frazier’s fiercest rival. The two played integral roles in each other’s lives, shaping their respective legends in the fires of their three fights, polarizing boxing supporters inside and outside of the ring. 

Their history is a complicated one. When Ali was stripped of his title and arrested for his refusal to be inducted into the Armed Forces, Frazier, then the number one contender, refused to compete in the tournament for Ali’s vacated belt in protest of the decision. When Ali was released from prison and had his boxing license reinstated (in part due to the efforts of Frazier), the two met in the first of three fights, appropriately titled Fight of the Century. In the first-ever match between undefeated heavyweight champions, Frazier beat the older Ali resoundingly in a unanimous decision. Frazier then defended his title twice before losing to a young and ferocious Foreman. Ali and Frazier’s second fight didn’t have the import of the first or third as it was a non-title fight. But their third, the Thrilla in Manila, will go down in history as one of the greatest ever.

Since Frazier died, I’ve re-watched all of these fights in their entirety and have been enthralled by the display of boxing and fighting ability shown by the two champions. The thing that struck home the most though, was the beauty of their contrasting styles.

Ali’s feet sought to refute the scales’ calculations that he was indeed a heavyweight, as he floated and danced around the ring with preternatural quickness; Frazier’s heavy soles, like his persona, were bound to the earth. A blue collar hero in his adopted home of Philadelphia, Frazier didn’t have Ali’s flourishes—his winks at press row, his interactions with the crowd, or his mocking glove, extended in a hapless opponent’s face—Frazier was a simple juggernaut, a perpetual motion machine that knew only one direction: forward, leading with his head and bobbing and weaving through the onslaught of blows longer-limbed fighters would rain on him from above. Finally, like a greyhound or a heat-seeking missile, Frazier’s head would close that gap and come to rest on his opponent’s chest, nuzzling it, almost tenderly. There, he was safe, at least physically, as Ali couldn’t generate the power to hurt him from that close. He would absorb a torrent of verbal abuse though, between grunts from Frazier’s powerful left hook, a clubbing blow that shattered ribs and was particularly effective at intimate range. Frazier’s one idiosyncrasy was his head, which bobbled like a demented jack-in-the-box with a specially tuned affinity to Ali’s punching rhythm. At times he ducked his way through torrents of Ali’s sharp jabs seemingly unscathed.

Outside of the ring, the fighters were also vastly different. Frazier was a hero to the working class, while Ali was a playboy, a fast-talking draft dodger who was close friends with the dangerous and divisive Malcolm X. Ali, known for his verbal sparring nearly as well as for his sparring in the ring, let his tongue run loose against Frazier in the lead up to each of their fights, calling him “ugly,” and “the gorilla.” Those taunts hurt Frazier deeply and the animosity we witnessed in their matches wasn’t staged, at least not on Joe’s part.

The two reconciled much later, only after they had both turned deaf ears towards the pleas of their daughters, also boxers, to make peace.

Every one of Frazier and Ali’s fights was incredible—compelling acts of physical, technical, and tactical artistry. But in the aftermath of watching them, rather than contentment, I was filled with bilious rage.

This relates to the second, much less important but still notable piece of recent boxing news, Manny Pacquiao versus Juan Manuel Márquez III. They fought one of the better fights seen in years, but it only whet my appetite for the one fight that all fans have waited, and waited, and waited for: Pacquiao versus Floyd Mayweather.

These two should have been our generation’s Frazier and Ali, but they’ve hemmed and hawed and it looks like they’re equally complacent to end their respective careers without ever having fought. I wonder if they fear to fight because the loser would end up like Joe Frazier, doomed to runner-up status. If that’s the case then they’re foolish, because I know a lot of people, myself included, who will remember a warrior like Frazier with more fondness than either of them.

Like Muhammad Ali said, “[T]hat’s one helluva man, and God bless him.”

 

—Sam Hunter

Sports

Valérie Grand’Maison, McGill’s unsung Beijing hero

by Sam Hunter on

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zimbio.com

Valérie Grand’Maison, a 23-year-old double major in history and psychology at McGill, won six medals in Beijing in 2008, three of which were gold. But you’ve probably never heard of her.

That’s because Grand’Maison won her medals at the Paralympics. She competes in the S13 category, which, according to the simplified explanation she gave me, is reserved for people in the mildest class of visual impairment (she estimates that she has about ten per cent of her vision). Upon her return to Canada from Beijing, the lack of recognition for a three-time Paralympic champion was hard for her.

“I had such high expectations of what life would be when I came back. I thought I would be a whole different person and people would talk to me differently, but they really didn’t. Nobody knows what the Paralympics are … I thought I would have more recognition but it just didn’t happen, obviously,” she said. “Now I know what I’m doing this for.”

After briefly quitting swimming following the Paralympics, Grand’Maison rediscovered her love for the sport. She credits this, at least in part, to McGill Swimming Head Coach Peter Carpenter.

“I actually quit, and then I heard that Peter was starting as the swim coach at McGill and I thought maybe I would just try as a social thing,” she said. But she enjoyed the training so much that she began to ramp it up again. “I really, really enjoy his program; I really like the guy.”

When asked if it was really the program that lured her back or whether the sport had an addictive hold over her, she laughed. “It’s a little bit of both, I guess,” she said. “I’m addicted to training—really, really addicted to endorphins.”

Now Grand’Maison is juggling two concurrent swimming seasons—CIS and Paralympic—while maintaining a course load that will allow her to graduate next year. The conflicting schedules of the two seasons keep Grand’Maison very busy. For example, over the past weekend she traveled with the team to a CIS swim meet at Dalhousie, one that her teammates and competitors had been training to excel at. For Grand’Maison, the competition was a bump in her training schedule. Her preparation, in the short term, is for a Paralympic meet in two weeks. In the longer run, she’s aiming to peak next fall at the London Paralympics.

“She was sort of going to this meet in a different frame of mind and a little different state of preparedness because she has a swim meet coming up,” Carpenter said. “So she wasn’t tapered the way the others were.”

Even if she isn’t a star in the CIS like she is against Paralympic competition (she holds the world record for the 100m, 200m, 400m, and 800m freestyle and the 400m IM), her experience at the highest levels of the sport sets her apart on the McGill team in some ways.

“As a university swimmer she’s just one of the gang. She’s not the best swimmer on the team but she is definitely the most professional athlete on the team,” said Carpenter.

That professionalism translates into leadership of the type that Carpenter appreciates.

“Huge, massive leadership, absolutely. In many, many different ways. The way I value the most is just her setting an example,” he said. “[She’s] always one of the first people on deck.”

It all stems from her priorities, which are swimming first, school second, and everything else wherever it can fit into her busy schedule, lodged between three courses and 25-30 hours of training per week. If that doesn’t sound like enough, Grand’Maison finds readings and writing assignments take longer due to her visual impairment, which was caused by macular degeneration starting at 12 years old. 

Whatever the difficulties, she’s happy to be on the path towards the 2012 Paralympics that she’s taking right now.

“I know that coming back from London I have to sit down and figure out my life,” she said. “[But] my life for the next 10 months is pretty figured out.”

Sports

Redmen light up Golden Gaels in shutout win

by Trevor Drummond on

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Ryan Reisert / McGill Tribune

The McGill Redmen hockey team exploded out of the gate Saturday night, scoring four times in the first period, en route to a 6-0 victory over the Queen’s Golden Gaels. Thirteen different Redmen made the score sheet, most notably Maxime Langelier-Parent, Marc-André Dorion, and Francis Verreault-Paul, all of whom enjoyed multi-point nights. The Golden Gaels, plagued by injuries, were outshot by the Redmen 36-20 and were outplayed in all facets of the game.

On Red Light Night at McConnell Arena, Redmen coach Kelly Nobes praised his players for moving their feet and communicating well on the ice. 

“We knew we would have a decent crowd tonight,” Coach Nobes said. “We wanted to get on them right from the start and the puck was bouncing right for us.”

Gaels goaltender Riley Whitlock, who entered the game with a sterling 2.30 goals against average and a .933 save percentage, was lit up for six goals on 28 shots before being pulled 12:25 into the second frame. To his credit, Whitlock made several impressive saves, particularly on the penalty kill, but was hung out to dry by his teammates.

The Queen’s skaters looked dazed and confused for the entire game, unable to execute basic breakouts or maintain puck possession on a two-man advantage in the third period. The Golden Gaels went 0-for-9 on the power play and the Redmen were able to create scoring chances on the penalty kill, including a shorthanded goal by Benoit Levesque at 8:27 of the first period.

The Redmen victory was especially important for Hubert Morin, who earned the shutout Saturday following a rough outing, in which he allowed three goals on 13 shots in a 3-2 loss to UQTR on Nov. 9. The Redmen offence took the pressure off their goaltender by scoring early. The defence corp was rock solid, consistently winning one-on-one battles along the boards. 

Redmen winger Francis Verreault-Paul, who went scoreless in his first four games of the campaign, now has eight goals in a five-game scoring streak. 

“The first few games I was shooting the puck 12 times a game, I had scoring chances in slot, but the puck didn’t want to go in,” the fourth-year forward said. “Now I’m out of it, we’re playing good hockey, and it’s been a long time since we had a game like that one tonight.”

The victory gives the Redmen sole possession of first place in the OUA East division with a 10-1-2 record and two games in hand on UQTR and Nipissing, who are tied for second place. The Redmen will look to pad their two-point cushion when they visit the Nipissing Lakers in their next game on Nov. 26 in North Bay, Ontario. The Golden Gaels drop to 6-5-1 with the loss and will host the Ottawa Gee-Gees in their next contest, coming this Friday in Kingston.

Arts & Entertainment

Goat Rodeo Sessions

by Akiva Toren on

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You recognize success in mixing genres when connoisseurs on either side think the music is beyond their field. My friend, a venerable bluegrass expert, recommended Goat Rodeo Sessions to me, saying he failed to understand the classical nuances. After I listened to this album, I wanted to give it back, lamenting my disappointingly insufficient comprehension of bluegrass. It was then that I realized how perfect this album really is.  

 In classical music, one must think big; of larger musical forms, key changes, and interplay of voices. In bluegrass, one has to think more humbly of melodies, rhythms, and smaller arrangements. Yo-Yo Ma, Edgar Meyer, Stuart Duncan, Chris Thile, and Aoife O’Donovan (I mention them individually because they’re all phenomenal) bring together a brilliant balance between these two methods. The first track, “Attaboy,” sucks you in with its dancing rhythms. “No One But You,” with O’Donovan’s beautiful voice, is humble and poignant. “13:8” jumps from dance-like rhythms to slow, heart-wrenching dissonances. The finale, “Goat Rodeo,” exploits every mechanism in both genres. At some point the cello and fiddle are in Bach-esque canon in bluegrass rhythm. At another, the banjo is strutting in the background as the strings build agonizingly beautiful Wagnerian chords. 

Every track in this album is different. The crossover allows for vast possibilities, and they exploit them to every emotional end. My apologies in advance if you end up half as addicted to this album as I am.

—Akiva Toren

Arts & Entertainment

Drake: Take Care

by Liya Adessky on

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Drake is living proof that not every rapper has to resort to insipid, vapid rhymes about dollar bills and girls in order to still talk about dollar bills and girls. Returning strong with his second studio album Take Care, Drake continues to rely on his articulate, straightforward lyrics and his smooth, R&B-infused melodies to impress his ever-growing fan base. As he alternates between breathy vocals and self-assured rap verses, Drake makes sure to stay well within his previously defined lines as an artist, albeit a very versatile one. 

 Standout tracks include his collaboration with Rihanna on “Take Care,” in which their chemistry is nothing if not electric, and the single “Headlines,” a fast-paced track that is reminiscent of his past hit “Over.” Drake notably features his protégé The Weeknd on “Crew Love” in an offbeat tribute to his friends. There are perhaps too many other artists on the album, including Nicki Minaj, Stevie Wonder, Rick Ross, André 3000, and Lil Wayne. Of those, Stevie Wonder offers the most novel input on “Doing it Wrong,” by unexpectedly using only his harmonica. 

The overall mood of the album is noticeably subdued this time around, and is more likely to be background music than on full volume at parties, but Drake doesn’t sacrifice verses or beats in the name of brooding reflection. All this to say, the Canadian rap phenomenon isn’t particularly innovative on this album, but he’s definitely delivering the goods in a well-meaning package of blunt truths about the highs and lows of fame.  

—Liya Adessky

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