What Christine Couldn’t Shut Up About in 2018
It’s been approximately an eternity since I’ve written about art and music in any significant way, but here I am, writing a bunch of words once more in an attempt to get back into The Game as we barrel full-speed into the throes 2019. It’s been nearly two years since I stopped writing regularly, so please bear with me as I remember how to string words together to form a semi-intelligent thought.
The plan is to start writing on here occasionally to get back into the habit and perhaps, eventually, start writing professionally again. It feels fitting to jump back into it with a look at a few of the things that captured my attention this past year. If you hung out with me at all these past twelve months, you probably heard me talk your ear off about at least one of these things. If you didn’t get the chance to hang out with me in 2018 — fear not! I’ve collected my feelings below for your reading convenience to give you an idea of how insufferable I was all year.
Favorite Album of 2018: Chris by Chris(tine and the Queens)
Honorable mentions: Bark Your Head Off, Dog by Hop Along, Twerp Verse by Speedy Ortiz, Aviary by Julia Holter
Héloïse Letissier is a theatre school dropout raised on Judith Butler, and she makes pop music like one. Whether or not this combination sounds appealing to you is a matter of personal taste, but it clearly works for me.
Letissier (a.k.a. Christine and the Queens, now shorted simply to Chris for this album cycle) released her first LP, Chaleur Humaine, in 2014. The singles were impressive, but the record itself never grabbed me the way I hoped it would.
Christine and the Queens fell off my radar until May of this year with the release of her single “Damn, Dis-Moi”. All of the subsequent singles and music videos blew me away. Exhibit A: the fantastic music video for “Doesn’t Matter” above, which was presumably inspired at least in part by the work of French director Leos Carax.
Unapologetically drenched in camp and sonic references to 80s and 90s pop and R&B, Chris is sharper, less contemplative, and more assertive than Chaleur Humaine. Released in both English and French, with some English-only and French-only tracks, Chris is two albums in one. Both versions of “Doesn’t Matter”, for example, have the same chorus and largely cover similar themes relating to depression, but Letissier evokes slightly different images in the verses of each. There’s no direct translation happening between the English and French versions, but rather two different ways of articulating the same feeling.
Midway through the album, there’s a moment during the bridge of “Goya ! Soda !” that elucidates some of the record’s philosophical underpinnings. Viewing Francisco Goya’s painting Saturn Devouring His Son, Chris asks: qui regarde qui, à quel prix, et qui mange quoi? Or, in the English version of the track: who came there to see, who is seen, and qui mange quoi?
Letissier’s lyrics have a reputation for not making a ton of sense in English or French, and the songs on Chris are no exception. She writes lyrics much like the dances: her words, like her choreography, feel informed more by instinct and feeling rather than concrete meaning. The intentional, at times poetic ambiguity of Chris allows for a breadth of possible interpretations. Like the Goya painting, Chris functions like a mirror of sorts: our response to the album (and Chris as a performer) is just as informative as the content of the album itself.
For me, Chris resonates as an exuberant reckoning with desire and performance. In a 2016 interview, Letissier said she opted to wear suits on stage and in her videos in an attempt to “control the male gaze” and express her desires “without worrying about being desirable on someone else’s terms.”
Now, Chris is all sweat, muscles, and bare skin. In interviews promoting the new record, Letissier describes realizing that she can’t really control the male gaze after all: even when she covered her body up, men still viewed her as an object of desire. So she changed her approach: if hiding her body and desires didn’t work, why not put them on full display and become a willing object of desire on her own terms? If she can’t “control” the male gaze like she initially wanted, can she at least disrupt it? Sideline it in favor of prioritizing queer desire?
Chris — as persona and object, artist and work of art — explores these possibilities of performance as a means of disrupting dominant narratives surrounding sex, gender, and desire. Beyond that, though, Chris is also just an incredibly fun and accessible pop record. Even if you don’t understand a word of what Letissier’s saying, or choose not to look too deeply into the album’s commentary on performance and desire, you still get a sonically rich and exhuberant pop record worth revisiting again and again.
Favorite Film of 2018: The Favourite (Yorgos Lanthimos)
Honorable Mentions: Hereditary, Sorry to Bother You, Suspiria
Yorgos Lanthimos’ wonderfully dark and absurd period piece was my most anticipated film of the year, and it lived up to all of my expectations. Olivia Coleman, Rachel Weisz, and Emma Stone give equally nuanced and hilarious performances, and it’s those three performances that brought me back to see it in the theater twice in one month.
At the heart of those performances is the ongoing exchange of power between the three women. Coleman’s ailing Queen Anne has power in the traditional sense, but is willing to cede that power in exchange for the other two women’s affections. Stone’s Abigail, having lost her high social and economic standing, is willing to do whatever it takes to regain it and secure the power that she believes will give her freedom. And then there’s Weisz’s Sarah, Anne’s (always honest and often cruel) companion who has not only a long, complicated personal relationship with the Queen, but also has a clear interest in the outcome of England’s war with France.
Without giving too much away (because I need everyone I know to go see this movie), the film’s last scene has stuck with me more than anything else I saw on screen this year. In the complex game being played in The Favourite, what does “winning” really look like? And is it worth the price?
Favorite T.V. Show of 2018: Survivor — David vs. Goliath
Honorable mentions: Sharp Objects, Derry Girls, The Chilling Advenures of Sabrina
Yes, Survivor is still on the air — in its 37th (!) season, at that. But what’s more impressive than its longevity is the fact that Survivor’s most recent output, entitled David vs. Goliath, is not only one of the greatest seasons of Survivor ever, but also one of the best T.V. shows of the year, period.
David. vs. Goliath is by far one of the goofiest premises Jeff Probst and co. have ever cooked up. The theme divides the castaways into two tribes: the Davids (people who have been underestimated in life or have otherwise had the cards stacked against them) and the Goliaths (people who have achieved success in their respective fields).
Silly theme aside, David vs. Goliath proves that a successful season of Survivor is entirely dependent on the casting. The players, not the theme, make this season what it is: hilarious, human, and unpredictable. David vs. Goliath features one of the greatest pre-merges of all time and an equally great early merge. The season’s one flaw is that the strategic endgame isn’t nearly as exciting as the pre-merge and early merge episodes, but David vs. Goliath remains hilarious yet grounded all the way to the end. I don’t want to say more and risk giving too much away, but seriously — whether this would be your first season of Survivor or your 37th, watch David vs. Goliath. It’s one hell of a ride.
Favorite Podcast of 2018: Threedom
Honorable mentions: Criminal, Believed (NPR) and The Fall Line
Threedom was my go-to comfort podcast this year. I don’t have anything terribly intelligent to say about it, seeing as the premise is essentially just “three very funny improvisors hang out, tell stories, and play games.” Paul, Scott, and Lauren have a wonderful dynamic, and that dynamic is the heart of the show.
Threedom made me laugh out loud and distracted me from the hellscape that was 2018, and for that I am forever grateful. The one downside is that it lodged phrases like “Jack Bauer He 24 Big Hit” and “Christmas Find Out Who Game” into my brain. A price worth paying, in my opinion, to enjoy some quality laughs between three very funny friends.