Essay Outline

I. Introduction

a. David Bowie’s venture into film paralleled his style, persona and music throughout his career. His thoughts on his own work influenced his decisions to expand his artistic projects, resulting in a body of work that evolved with the artist, highlighting every aspect of his creative strengths.

II. “The Man Who Fell to Earth”

a. Came out in 1976, putting it in context with “Ziggy Stardust” and “Station to Station.”

b. By this point Bowie was well associated with his space fallen alter ego Ziggy Stardust, so the shift was natural to playing an alien figure in film

III. “Labyrinth”

a. Came out in 1986, putting it in context with “Tonight” and “Never Let Me Down.”

b. Bowie publicly disliked the albums released during the time he was working on “Labyrinth” which perhaps pushed him to recreate his image through film instead of music

IV. “Basquiat”

a. Came out in 1996, putting it in context with “Outside.”

b. Emulates Andy Warhol in the film, connects to Bowie’s pop art sensibilities; connection to art, fashion and music relevant

V. Conclusion

a. Through Bowie’s separate ventures, he was able to expand the evolving personas he created through his music.

Carlos the Dwarf

“Freaks and Geeks” (Season 1, Episode 18 “Discos and Dragons,” 2000)

Judd Apatow’s creation set in 1980s Michigan, “Freaks and Geeks,” blurred the lines between typical high school cliques, no more so than in the short-lived series final episode, “Discos and Dragons.” Mathlete Lindsay Weir (Linda Cardellini) becomes a Deadhead, pot-head Nick Andopolis (Jason Segel) becomes the king of the disco, leather jacket-wearing rebel Daniel Desario (James Franco) becomes Carlos the Dwarf in a game of Dungeons and Dragons and a group of geeks, by association, become cool. The finale’s clever writing and genuine transformation of characters maintain the entertaining, witty and heartfelt spirit of the entire series that made it so beloved even after its cancellation.

Right off the bat the episode brings its characters out of their comfort zone at a disco where they’ve gathered to harass the regulars—Seth Rogan’s Ken eloquently shouts, “Disco sucks!”—only to discover one of their own, Nick, in the mix. He’s there for a girl, a situation all too relatable to the plights of high school boys. This sets off the “drama” of the episode, which maintains a foot in reality unlike the high school drama series to follow (i.e. The OC, Gossip Girl, etc.), and allows for a genuine connection to the characters.

Another asset to the characters of this show as compared to lesser teen series is the casting; instead of 30-year-old models playing high-schoolers we see awkward teenagers playing awkward teenagers. These kids suffer the same problems the average adolescent goes through, they’re unsure of themselves and in the end, are just trying to be cool and fit in even though they really don’t. Even the coolest of the “freaks,” Daniel, doesn’t feel like he’s found a place in the world until he connects with the show’s “geeks,” the ultimate blurring of the cool line. As Bill Haverchuck (Martin Starr) asks, “Does his wanting to play with us again mean he’s turning into a geek or we’re turning into cool guys?”

While the performance of the cast’s inexperienced actors is a bit stiff at times, the dialogue and story carry them effortlessly. At the turning point of the episode, Lindsay puts on the Grateful Dead’s “Amercan Beauty,” an album that a Deadhead in the lunch room (Samaire Armstrong) says is so good she wishes she’d never heard it so she could listen to it for the first time again. It strikes Lindsay similarly and while listening and dancing around to “Box of Rain” she experiences a change reflected in characters across the board.

The end of the episode leaves all the characters in an uncertain place, a tribute to the writers for not wrapping things up nicely knowing this would be their last episode. A group of sixteen year olds don’t typically resolve their year-long struggles in the week before summer so it’s fitting that the freaks and geeks end up where they do. As was true throughout the entire series, we’re left with characters who are witty and awkward, making for an entertaining and relatable show.

"Love the End"

"Love the End" (By Andrew Bell, 2011)



Throughout the work of New York-based artist Andrew Bell, commonly known as the “creatures in his head,” characters such as the Giver of War and the Giver of Disease make frequent appearances and are fan-favorites among his cult following. The dark narratives created through his ink drawings, paintings and even his own line of toys contribute to a pop art movement moving through urban environments that is worlds away from the Andy Warhols of the 60s movement. Instead of bright colors, everything is dark; the art’s not about fame and fashion, but instead the tribulations of the world. In Bell’s latest contribution, he has learned to accept the end and provokes others to do the same.

Bell’s newest exhibition at Rotofugi Gallery, 2780 N. Lincoln Ave., used his drawings, sculptures and installations to portray “giving up, giving in and letting go” in the show “Love the End.” The work appears deceptively simple, but aesthetically appealing while getting to the heart of Bell’s view on the world’s problems.

At first glance, the work of Bell looks more akin to doodles in the margin of a notebook than work worthy of its own gallery show. The simple shapes and minimal color palate of black, white, grey and red make the work appear simple. But closer inspection reveals a deeper story through the series of paintings. The main character appears as a teardrop shaped skull, assimilating itself into various end of the world situations. Appearing amidst an oil rig explosion, at the heart of a volcano and in the hazy aftermath of an atomic bomb, the face is downtrodden, but calm.

The feeling of acceptance that crosses the work brings a new life to the plain paintings. Instead of being just doodles, the paintings have a history, an emotional back story that brought the final product out. Wear and tear in the faces of the skull show the battle these characters have endured to this point until deciding to, as Bell repeats throughout the exhibit, “love the end.”

This art falls comfortably into the realm of comic book and graphic novel work, in both its color scheme and narrative. The post-apocalyptic landscape portrayed in the paintings serves well to the exhibit’s purpose, easing the viewer into a thought-piece exploring how one may be affected by the end of the world. Lingering on each piece long enough may leave one depressed at first, but Bell’s secret nod to the positive—miniature hearts hidden as noses on the creatures, the half-heart appearances of the creatures themselves—leave a sense of whimsy amid the dark theme.