Noir is Back

After reading Stein’s article about Millennial Noir, I started picking up on specific differences between types of noir in the Veronica Mars episode and the Gossip Girl Episode. Stein says that noir today is either nostalgic or connotative.

Let’s take a look at Veronica Mars first. I loved the scene where Keith comes into the kitchen and starts imitating Humphrey Bogart’s rough, low drawl. Veronica calls him “Phillip Marlowe,” making a reference to the 1920’s detective that Bogart embodies in “The Big Sleep.” (It’s a great example of a traditional noir, full of black shadows, many sexually ouvert women, gunshots, and dirty money…). This kind of noir is obviously nostalgic, and not only does it make viewers like me feel intelligent about the reference, and thus feel more intimately connected with Veronica and Keith, but it also legitimizes the teen detective show as following in the same tradition, 60 years later.

In Gossip Girl, Chuck goes on a hunt for a mysterious femme fatale woman who ends up double-crossing him. This also represents the nostalgic noir, especially lighting-wise: Chuck’s only memories of the previous night are dark, shadow-filled glimpses of a rich mansion lighted by candlesticks.

A good example of the connotative noir – noir that calls on old noir techniques in order to enhance the intrigue – is in little details of the Veronica Mars episode: constant ambulance sirens float through the windows of Keith’s office, which through green and red lighting has a gritty, ugly, and almost surreal feel to it. Wanda invokes the double-crosser by hiding an ugly, corrupt side of herself from Veronica while simultaneously pretending to save the miserly. And Logan represents the corruption and confusion of the rich, by being both the snobby, superior classmate who uses his fame to get what he wants, and being victimized by the affects of the money that has corrupted his parents.

College Community Chorus

One thing I’ve missed most since leaving home for college is singing. I’m definitely not an American Idol, but I’d taken classical singing lessons in high school, joined the Chorale senior year, and even had my own solo singing a Negro spiritual. And after swim practice, I always sang in the shower. It helps relieve stress, I swear.

Freshman year I got placed in the women’s Glee choir, but (and here I may ruin your fantasy of the glittery, energy-injecting Glee club Fox presents), I just didn’t dig singing old songs on school nights from cold benches, trying to make my sore throat land extraordinary A sharps. I missed my voice teacher, the wonderful Cathy Goto, and male tenors and basses who would have smoothed out the shrill Rachel Berry-like soprano next to me. (Every choir has one).

Even singing in the shower was out; I doubt anyone on my hall would have appreciated my rendition of Mick Jagger’s “Miss You.” So when my friend Sam asked me this semester if I wanted to join Middlebury’s College Community Chorus, as skeptical as I was about singing with old fogeys from town, I said yes.

And I love it. Every Sunday night, I pack myself into a group of mostly 50 -70 year-old men and women, and sing away. Madrigals from the 16^th century. Traditional folk songs like Shenandoah. My favorites are three Morten Lauridsen songs from Nocturnes—as smooth as honey, I imagine they drift out of the cracks of Mead Chapel and then are sucked swiftly away by the darkness.

Besides the gospel song (why oh why do choir directors think gospels are fun? The repetition feels I’m slowly drilling a screw into my head), I love wrapping up the week this way, letting sound waves carry away whatever heaviness and stress I’ve been feeling. It doesn’t matter how good any of us are, cause believe me, I’ve definitely heard better. But we’re not bad. And that’s really not what it’s about for us. I’m inspired by watching these Vermonters who come to every rehearsal and find a way to be a part of the community – they’re still young at heart.