doilu n
em
Kuzma offers
new poems
An interview with Gov. J. James Exon . . .
explores the Governor's views on the state's
role in higher education, and specifically
UNL. See page 9.
Greq Kuzma is rapidly approaching ubiquity. A
new pamphlet of his poems called What Friends
Are For (Best Cellar Press, SI) is now available and
thp new issue of Prairie Schooner features a
10-poem portfolio of Kuzma's new work.
In addition, he's qot an issue of Pebble, the
magazine he edits, due out in April which will
feature Lincoln Writers. Viking Press will publish
the full-length collection, Good News, and Basilisk
Press will publish The Buffalo Shoot in 1973.
What Friends Are For is 13 satisfying poems.
Much of the stuff in it is in the prose-poem form.
Kuzma manipulates the framework ingeniously,
for example:
The Desk
My father is chopping up the desk he
built me when I was a kid to get smart leaning
over looking at books he bought me so I could
get out of town and be better than him, and not
have to work for a living like he does, but sit
around on my fat ass week after week, developing
longer and longer arms so I can pat myslef on the
back, or reach all the way cross the county and
pinch
him no w and then, just to see if he's still alive,
which is getting him pissed off. .
copyright 1973 by Greg Kuma
is choice aualitv stuff. In addition to the Kuzma
portfolio, the new issue has poetry by David Allan
Evans, Peter Wild, Ted Kooser, Mike Finlev,
Howard Lindh, James Richardson, Gerald
Costanzo and Charles Baxter. There are stories by
Joan Dash and J.F. Peters, a fable called "Kiss of
Kismet" by Josef Zderad, an article on
autobioqraphy by Barrett John Mandel.
I especially enjoyed five poems by Charles
Baxter titled "Ma Tells About Indians," "The
Indian in his car," "Indians and beasts," "Indians:
a position paper," and "An Indian Speaks."
"Indians and beasts" explains about the animal
inside and marriage: When an Indian is ready for
marriage, the beast begins clawing up stomach and
heart. A priest makes an incision and "No blood,
butthe man, his womenand whatever creature
jumps outline up, and race to the finish."
Prairie Schooner is one of the most
hot-diggity-dog literary publications I read. You
should read it and find out about some things it
can tell you, too. It's also available in the English
Department office.
The concert featuring bluegrass legend Bill
Monroe is slated to be Friday, April 13, at the East
Campus Union. The free show will begin at 8 p.m.
and will include some local bluegrass musicians as
a warm-up to Monroe's act. According to Union
bort becker
bells letters
What Friends Are For is available at the English
Depaitment office for sure. Keep an eye out for it
at other outlets around town, too.
The Winter issue of Prairie Schooner, as always,
Concerts chairman Jack Hart, there's also the
possibility of an afternoon workshop. We'll have
more information on the Monroe concert after
varatinn
Up the Sandbox difficult to sift through the garbage
Wii
Review by Jim Gray
If you like to be offended, Up the Sandbox may
just be your movie. Ranking down there with Barbra
Streisand's all time worst bombs (On a Clear Day You
Can See Forever notwithstanding), Sandbox tries its
best to slip in something that will offend virtually
everyone.
For the feminist movement, there is a stereotyped
myopic view of the members of the movement as
sexual deviates or frustrated housewives.
For the anti feminists, there is the Dust mop of the
Year, portrayed by Streisand, churningly wimpenng
herself through the tear s -ukJ repression of eveiyday
housewifedom.
And for those who don't care one way or the
other, the movie is a striking bore.
Obviously, this movie covers all possible' eits
All this wouldn't be so bad if the movie seemed to
have some ultimate reason for being produced. Or if
it were done well. But neither is the case and the
movie is little more than a disgust inq waste of
time.
The movie is a careful documentation of a "young
contemporary housewife at odds with her role in
sorjef" (Sfrei'.ant) through all the hustle and bustle
'" 1 j 1 c a i nays, as she fantasizes he
through impossibl chchc scenes.
But the fantasy doesn't work for the audience,
Sandbox has the d dusting habit of not distinguishing
between fact and fantasy--not only mudd ing up the
plot, but -n fact destroying it. At an one point in the
movie, one unsure exactly where he stand,-in fact
or fantasy. And mo-e important! one doesn't know
.vh .
Streisand smiles her way through sequences with a
Castroish dictator, obnoxious grandparents at a 33rd
wedding anniversary and black revolutionaries
dynamiting the Statue of Liberty, never giving any
real clue about the importance or meaning of any of
the activities.
What ,v th all the fl'pp rig back and forth between
fact and fantasy, retracing steps and altering
situations, it is impossible to tell what the characters
are supposed to be hkc. because of this, Streisand and
the other major characters become walking enigmas.
Which doesn't help a plotless movi
Except, of course, the fantasy stereotypes in
which this move abojnds. There is the Latin
American dictator supporting women' liberation, who
turns out to be a female transvestite, There is the
sniveling bastard husband who is insensitive to his
wife's needs. Then; is the intruding, bossy mother.
Even a hippie babysitter. And each and everyone of
them is boring and offensive.
So, without any living and breathing characters,
the movie plods along without plot into total
oblivion. This oblivion is only made worse by a total
lack of technical capability.
pagr; 10
Cuts are bad, pacing inept, camera work
questionable. The acting is terrible, the sets
amateurish. Probably the best thing about the movie
is a gimmicky sequence in which Streisand's boobs
expand and deflate miraculously. And that's only
acceptable because it's tough to figure out how they
do it. Figuring out the reason for the scene is even
tougher.
No doubt Up the Sandbox started out as a good
idea. And no doubt director Irvin Kershner and writer
Paul Zindel thought they were trying to be sensitive
to the plight of the modem American housewife. But
they failed. In trying to explore the housewife's
situation, they fell prey to every cliche and
impossibly inane foible know to cinematic history.
And in trying to be artsy in treatment without plot
and development, they abandoned all possibility of
saying anything important.
Which leaves the movie Up the Sandbox-and the
creek. Unless, of course, you like to be offended.
I S " llli 'l'IM-M
' -V Yf v; 1 " -
ISSIIIM yh y JHfc
-r'- i "-c-' ' 'J ;-.;. r. y
-w. . . '" . , - : i
' ' -, . f - r ., .V j, ' iit, r m. - , V v 51
Barbra Streisand . . . wins "Dustmop of the Year" award for Up the Sandbox.
tuny iiuurdbKcin m,1.,. . i n
' monaav marrh 1Q 1Q7Q
t