Fascinations with Ritual in Afternoons of Solitude by Nathaniel Carper-Young, Junior
Just before the screening began, director Albert Serra—often noted for his idiosyncratic introductions and Q&A sessions—offered to the audience the following rumination: “maybe the cinema should corrupt us.” Initially, I thought this statement somewhat vague, platitudinous, and even pompous: what kind of artist has such glowing confidence in the power of their own work to imply that it will “corrupt” a given crowd of people? I was skeptical of him, and even more so of the movie. The documentary that followed, however, made his claim seem like something of an understatement; there are not a great number of movies I’ve seen in my life that have evoked more emotion in me than Afternoons of Solitude.
The film offers a brief glimpse into the life of a Spanish matador named Andrés Roca Rey. It is a (at the risk of engaging in superlative cliché) totally unflinching approach to the subject; Albert Serra has no interest in pulling punches when it comes to documenting the brutality intrinsic to the practice of bull-fighting. To this end, the film’s biggest points of formal intrigue are two-fold: firstly, the camera is always fixated on the action of bull-fighting. The arena, whose crowd must exceed ten-thousand, is never paid more than a cursory glance by Serra’s camera. He is interested explicitly in the mortal terror and confounding theatricality of the matador’s way of life; in the sweat; the sparkle; the blood; the death. It is a film concerned with the art of bull-fighting, not its circumstantial commercial dimensions. Someone in the Q&A portion of the screening asked him about this choice, and he responded, somewhat perfunctorily, “We were shooting for, like, one-hundred-thousand dollars a day. I don’t care about the crowd. They’re ugly, dressed poorly, often drunk. I don’t care. I shot what I liked.”
The second and larger-still point of formal intrigue is that of repetition. Interstitial to the abject horror found in unceremonious death otherwise central to the film is an unwritten ritual carried out by Rey. First, there comes the grotesque, brutish jeering from the mouths of his fellow toreadors as he makes his entrance into the arena; they speak of the defenseless bulls as if they are somehow evil, and of Rey as if he is “superhuman”. Second, there is the matter of Rey’s performed theatrics: the almost comically dramatic facial expressions he puts on in the face of the bull he’s to murder within minutes, the ludicrous, baroque, typically blood-red-colored costume he finds himself clad in, and perhaps most importantly, the waving of the red cloth in front of the bull, creating a false sense that perhaps this time the bull will win. Of course, the bulls never do; the bulls never come close. The documentation of these theatrics might lend itself well to a critique of the phoniness and performativity of bullfighting in the hands of another filmmaker, but Serra, in his circumvention of the crowds, makes it all seem impossibly intimate, perhaps even romantic. Finally, there is the matter of the death of the bull, which Serra has a tendency to shoot as close as he can: the light from their eyes escapes into the prism of the camera lens, perversely refracting into some sort of awful beauty, each and every time. It is, as Serra suggests, an ethically and emotionally corrupting thing.
Repetition can be found in all avenues of the film: after a day of fighting (of which there are perhaps four), Rey boards a car with a number of confidants and toreadors. He is given a bottle of water, he reflects on his own mortality (“I should’ve died today,” he ruminates), and he is reassured—in a fashion no less grotesque than as in the arena—by his friends that he is the best performer the world has ever seen.
What we are left with at the end of the film is a most perturbing contradiction — how is it that we can find any pleasure in a display of such terrible violence? Even if a given viewer happens not to, it is abundantly clear (in spite of Serra’s best efforts at eschewing them) that the on-screen audience does; they’ve willingly paid for the show, their raucous laughter and shouting is audible throughout the film. It is an uncomfortable thing to reckon with, but I feel it is necessary to do so. That is the real fascination of this film: the questioning of the human capacity for inhumanity.
From the Streets of Nigeria to the Aisles of 7-Eleven: How Tim Came to America and Found His Home in the Marblehead Convenience Store by Anna Cruikshank, Freshman
If you live in Marblehead and have ever been on the hunt for a midnight snack, you’ve probably entered the 7-Eleven. It’s open twenty-four hours a day and is fully-stocked with everything from groceries to tools, toys, and treats. One of the cashiers, Tim, is like a celebrity to kids, including me. He perfectly embodies what it means to be a kind person and a hard worker. His backstory was previously a mystery and I wanted to explore his past and what brought him to Marblehead. I interviewed Tim to find out how he came to be one of the most recognizable faces in town.
How long have you been working here at 7-Eleven? Three years.
Do you like your job here? The town and the people are good. When you meet all kinds of people, it’s why you want to stay. The reason why I work is to give service to the people. When the people appreciate you, you just want to see them more. It’s fun seeing the same people I give service to everyday.
A lot of kids my age know you; you’re a big part of the community in Marblehead. Is that your favorite part of working here? Yes. Because of the way I was brought up, and because of my education, I was told to give people service. That’s been a big part of my life since I’ve been young. I’ve always loved to give people service. What matters most to me is to make people smile. Because of my service, no matter how they walk into the store, they come out with a smile.
Where are you from? I live in Lynn and commute to work in Marblehead.
Where did you live before you came to America? I am from Nigeria, I came a long time ago. The US is one of the countries you come to for opportunity. When kids come into the store I tell them that America is the place where freedom lies. It’s there, but it’s not given to you, so you have to grab it. Grab it and don’t let it go, because with good opportunities, you can achieve anything you want to.
What was the immigration process like from Nigeria? Back when I came, it was simple. Everything is different now. We come, get fingerprints, fill out papers, and get passports. I immigrated here through my ex-wife to find more opportunities and to raise my son.
My aunt lived in Mozambique for a long time. She worked as part of a nonprofit for health in Africa. Have you had experiences with volunteers in Nigeria? Yes, I remember during Ebola (severe infection) times, I was still back in Nigeria, and we had Americans come. There was always some debate over whether they were helping or not, but the Americans brought good leadership and saved many lives. I think African countries lack leadership. The way my country is set up is the same setup as America. There is the senate, the house of representatives, the executive, and the judiciary. It’s the same in my country, what we need is people to do the right thing. If people don’t do the right thing, it won’t work. You can have the best system in the world, but if people don’t do the right thing to power that system, corruption occurs. The system is good and well-written on paper, but you need human beings to bring it to life. It’s sad, but that’s what it is in most African countries.
How do you think we can bring more democracy to parts of Africa that really need it? We need to bring it through education for young ones. Secondly, we need to make sure that the younger ones are exposed to the truth. When you are told the truth, you know that if you don’t make your country better by doing the right thing, no one’s coming to do it for you. You have to understand your history, if you don’t, there’s no way you can make amends and do better in the future. The best thing for democracy in Africa is to speak the truth and learn history. That makes the difference between a good future and, five years from now, being stuck in the same place.
What future do you hope to give your son in America? I want him to grow up like every other kid, and to have ambition to be whoever he wants to be. Maybe a president, prosecutor, doctor, coach; it doesn’t matter to me. My job is to teach him, to instill discipline and wisdom and knowledge. I want him to make society better. Because at the end of the day, you work alone. I can’t be in his life forever. When he’s eighteen he’ll understand, “this is what dad was telling me”. If you don’t instill truth and discipline in your children, it’s too late. I have lived outside of America and I can say from my heart that America is a land of opportunity, you just have to grab it.
How does it make you feel being a part of kids’ lives? It makes me feel a part of the community. Marblehead is such a beautiful place. I always tell my friends I work somewhere with 99.9% good people. The number one thing in my head is giving the community good service. When you come in, I don’t care who you are, I want to put a smile on your face.
What is some advice you have for kids all over the world? I would say listen to your parents, listen to teachers, and listen to elders; they’ve seen it all. And always If you follow bad friends, they will influence you and you will become them. You can tell a lot about a person from their friends. I also believe in making people happy and having a positive worldview. Also, dream big and chase opportunity with everything you have.
Advice for future college applicants by Benji Boyd, Editor-in-Chief, Senior
Advice for future college applicants
This season of college applications, acceptances, and decisions has been full of surprises. Many students found themselves rejected or waitlisted from schools they were certain they’d find a spot in, while others have been shocked by the conditions of their acceptance. A few weeks ago I received an email from the college I was admitted to way back in December with some surprising statistics. The ratio of students admitted to the class of 2029 to the total number of applications they received showed an acceptance rate far lower than the one they advertise on their website. Confused, I did a little research to find out why these numbers were so off.
According to Forbes, the Common App’s data shows that college applications have increased by 7% from 2024 to 2025, which is a far bigger leap than is expected for a single year. Not only are more students applying, but students are applying to more schools. As post after post pops up on the “mhs2025futureplans” Instagram page, I find myself recognizing less and less of the schools my classmates are heading to.
The truth is that the college admissions landscape has changed drastically, not only since our parents and teachers were applying, but even over the past few years. In the wake of the pandemic, many schools removed their testing requirements to try to create a more “holistic” application approach. However, this word, so lightly thrown around on college tours and admissions page blurbs, is rarely operationally defined. Nowadays, most schools are “test-optional”, meaning that SAT or ACT scores are accepted but not required for applications. However, the way most schools explain this strange practice of seeing some applicants’ scores and not others is unsatisfactory. If scores aren’t sent, won’t admissions officers just assume they’re not very good? Some schools go as far as to say they don’t affect their decisions at all. But if this is true, why continue to accept them? The implications will be there whether a student sends them or not, so why not be honest about what they want to see?
This pervasive lack of earnestness annoyed me while I was touring schools, and after a while I could barely hear the word “holistic” without cringing. While the numbers say schools are getting more competitive, they continue to present their admission process as open-ended instead of outlining what it really takes to get in. Tours increasingly focus on gimmicks like freshman orientation camping trips, dining hall smoothie bars, and boutique seminar courses over winter break to set themselves apart from the competition. However, in an age so different from what our parents and grandparents knew, most students would prefer a straight-forward answer to simple questions. We know college isn’t going to be paradise – what we want is to know what we’re getting, and how to get it.
I don’t want to sound cynical, but my advice to those getting ready to start on the application journey is to not believe everything your dream schools tell you. Study for your SATs. Keep your GPA up. Be original with your essay – don’t just copy a prompt that TikTok says will get you into Harvard. As the future of higher education grows more and more uncertain, it’s possible that colleges will start being more upfront with their applicants, but I doubt it. As financial aid weakens, budgets are cut, and the small recession generation of 2008 kids get ready to apply, colleges will be fighting harder than ever to get your application. Make sure you’re taking advantage of their interest, and not the other way around.