Welcome to this week's Street Sweeper!
Street Sweeper brings you the round–up of what’s going on around campus and in Philadelphia, including riots on the street, film screenings, and a Valentine's Day spent alone looking out of Saxby’s. If you need ideas on things to do to distract from this dreary midterm season compounded by incessant rain, look no further than here for inspiration.
In this edition, Street stormed Broad Street on Super Bowl Sunday to scream “Go Birds!,” watched a live performance of Tick, Tick… Boom!, ate copious amounts of free chili at Kelly Writers House, attended an advanced screening of Bong Joon Ho’s latest film Mickey 17, and more.
For film lovers, enthusiasts, and casual moviegoers alike, there are always advanced screening opportunities happening around Philadelphia. Personally, I like to follow @whartonume and @specfilmpenn on Instagram to stay up–to–date. It gives excellent bragging rights (I saw Saltburn and Challengers first among all my friends).
—Fiona Herzog, Assignments Editor
The Buzz on Locust
A Conversation with Penn Press Editor Walter Biggins @ Kelly Writers House
Walter Biggins didn’t waltz into publishing—he stumbled in, half–lost, guided by a friend who “realized I could use some direction in my life.” That first job as an assistant at the University Press of Mississippi involved more grant writing than book editing, but over time, Biggins found himself drawn into acquisitions.
“In my best moments, I like to say my career in publishing was jazz,” he says. “But honestly? It was chaos.”
Biggins, now the editor–in–chief at Penn Press, shared his thoughts on the current state of academic publishing in a discussion moderated by Julia Bloch at the Kelly Writers House on Feb. 11.
I was particularly interested in his take on digitalization. It’s true that nearly all university press books now come in e–book form, but he rejects the idea of the print book disappearing. He recalled a book that had its massive bibliography removed from the print edition to be hosted online, only for the website to vanish. He also spoke about the art of writing books that last. “A monograph needs a long shelf life,” he explains, pushing back against scholars who market their books as “timely.”
Biggins is particularly excited about the Penn Press Black Print Culture and Organizing in the Long 19th Century series, which explores the editorial and publishing practices of Black writers and activists. The first book in the series focuses on Mary Ann Shadd Cary, a pioneering Black newspaper editor who championed Black migration to Canada. “She was doing the work of a whole newsroom,” he says. “And she’s still not talked about enough.”
Biggins emphasized that Penn Press isn’t some distant, closed–off institution. Students can and should get involved through internships, attending publishing events, or even just simply paying attention to the books their professors are citing.
—Daria Knureko, Staff Writer
Tick, Tick… Boom! @ Harrison College House Rooftop Lounge
While cozied up on the couches of the rooftop lounge at Harrison College House, a full audience watched Front Row Theater Company's performance of Tick, Tick… Boom! come to life.
It’s a simple set, with plywood boards painted black, a single analog clock, and sheet music cascading out from beneath it. Only a single table and bench accompany the actors as they guide us through the story of the late composer Jonathan Larson. Chandric Lee (N '27) sings about a feeling everyone knows all too well: running out of time. He’s no longer the ingenue he once was, rather, he’s about to turn 30.
Shortly after his desperate cry to somehow stop the hands of time, he is joined by Maya Williamson–Shafer (C '25) and Madeline Wuest (C '28). But tonight, they are Michael and Susan, respectively. All within the span of an hour and a half, they sing songs of love, lust, heartbreak, and best of all, twinkies.
Beneath all of the humor and camaraderie of the show, the idea of "tick, tick… boom" is constantly lurking. It never stops, until finally, the trio is on stage together one last time to sing their finale “Louder Than Words."
It is impossible to not feel the weight of Larson’s story when crammed on these couches watching peers sing about his struggles, especially knowing exactly how much time Larson really had left. He died five years after he turned 30, just before Rent, his best hit, had its first Off–Broadway preview. In their final moments on stage, there is the pulse of ambition and an ache of wanting to do something impactful before it’s too late. For Larson, time ran out too soon, but for at least this night, in the Harrison rooftop lounge, his story and legacy beat on, louder than ever.
—Julia Girgenti, Staff Writer
Chili Cookoff @ Kelly Writers House
When I walked into Kelly Writers House for the Chili Cookoff, I didn’t come with an appetite. Lately, I never do. A friend once joked—half–seriously—about how much easier life would be if we could just hook ourselves up to IVs for all of our meals. No wasted time, just efficiency and expediency. At Penn, eating isn’t really about eating. It’s fuel between deadlines and networking at Stommons, a necessity for survival. Eating for the sake of eating, to taste something, feels indulgent. Indulgence doesn’t make the schedule.
But that Thursday evening, the Writers House felt different. A tiny haven of warmth carved out from a relentless blizzard. People weren’t going around to the tables you’d expect, lining up to talk with recruiters from top firms or scanning QR codes for another prestigious club application. People weren’t murmuring their elevator pitch under their breath. They were just spooning ladles from crockpots, trading their resumes for mini–tasting cups and their suits for aprons, anticipating the taste of something home–cooked for the first time in months.
There was something so Good Will Hunting, so Gilmore Girls about it. Something quintessentially “college” about it—at least the version I used to imagine. People fingering through books, slouching in brown leather armchairs, engaging in rigorous intellectual debate on beans versus no beans, and the optimal ratio of toppings.
I found a spot in the corner and worked my way through the vegan chilis (the kimchi one was unbelievable). And for the first time in a long time, even if it meant going a little over schedule, I just ate.
—Gia Gupta, Staff Writer
Popping The Bubble
Super Bowl Sunday Win Celebration @ Broad Street
Even before the Eagles’ Super Bowl LIX win, fans flocked to Broad Street to celebrate their team’s imminent victory. The anticipation was palpable as if the entire city was holding its breath. To show just how serious things were, even Penn students, fighting off their Sunday scaries, joined too. After all, they were part of something bigger than themselves, something that united the entire city.
So, as the game drew to an end, Philadelphia was guided by the glow of green–lit buildings, the deafening roar of “E–A–G–L–E–S,” and the scent of beer and fireworks toward City Hall. This time, the trek from Locust Walk to Broad Street wasn’t a long one—the crowd of thousands stopped a few short blocks before. Among them were green–clad families, friends, and strangers kissing, hugging (and link–chained), and victory–dancing. Everywhere you looked, there was excitement.
If you glanced above the swarm of people, you would find Eagles fans perched atop storefronts, climbing on garbage trucks, and scaling traffic lights. Fireworks erupted (and, unfortunately, an actual fire). Printed flags waved “They Not Like Us” and “I will die for my country Philadelphia.” The energy pulsated throughout the entire city.
That Sunday night, people united as one in Philadelphia. It was more than just a football game; it was a cultural moment. It didn’t matter where you were from, what you did for a living, or what your life looked like on any other day—everyone was a part of the same victory, and every face reflected the same pride.
—Priyanka Angarwal, Staff Writer
Mickey 17 @ Philadelphia Film Society Theater
For some, queueing outside a theater for the better part of an hour, grabbing the last of the merchandise, and scrambling for one of the few remaining seats in–house is certainly worthwhile in good company. For others, the film alone is enough. Whichever is the case for you, for moviegoers last Thursday, this experience was a microcosm for the excitement of the crowd at Philadelphia Film Society East.
The movies are always a time for community building, connection, and enjoying good and bad films alike. This past weekend was no different. An exclusive pre–screening of the novel adaptation of Mickey 17 delivered a well–paced, hearty experience for moviegoers, with the audience laughing, crying, and moving with the film’s emotions.
Director Bong Joon Ho, who also directed Oscar–winning Parasite, and major actors Mark Ruffalo, Steven Yeun, and Naomi Ackie are all still at their best throughout the 139–minute runtime. The film becomes a looking glass into the not–so–distant future and the potential consequences of bleeding humanity’s resources dry.
The titular Mickey 17 and accompanying Mickey 18 characters are portrayed expertly by leading man Robert Pattinson, who functions as part of the film’s emotional core—along with Naomi Ackie’s character, Nasha—and the primary source of comedy. The Mickeys work to hold onto the validity of their lives (life?) onboard a ship full of people who treat them as fundamentally different, and their personalities make it all too easy for viewers to root for them.
Currently sitting at 85% on Rotten Tomatoes off of 26 reviews, Mickey 17 releases in theaters on March 7, and if the reactions to this screening are worth anything, one would do well by grabbing a few friends and heading out for a fun night and a great film.
—Xihluke Marhule, Film & TV Beat
Valentines Day @ Saxbys
I am sitting on Valentine’s Day morning in the Saxby’s on the corner. I am waiting at the counter for the man to pour the coffee. He fills it half with ice, and before I even argue, I am looking out the window at somebody coming in.
The café is filled to the brim, the weekend crowd settling into a comfortable routine of swirling lattes, laptops out, headphones in. The radio blares the latest pop hits, slightly frazzled over the ancient speakers.
"You’re an idiot, now I’m sure …"
A trio dressed head–to–toe in Eagles gear bumps into each other laughing as they stumble through the door.
A girl stands by the gate nervously twirling her hair, checking her phone every three seconds for an “OMW."
"I just wanna get to know ya / Guess I didn’t quite think it through …"
A guy leans down just as his girlfriend stands up on the tip of her toes, the kiss misses the cheek and lands on his matted hair.
A couple tries to keep themselves composed, standing two feet apart fuming with brows furrowed. As they rush out the door, they exchange a glance and for a second their expressions soften.
"Please, please, please, don’t prove I’m right…"
—Jason Zhao, Staff Writer
