![[logo]](images/martini_brunette_sm.jpg) |
|
|
|
Summer reruns: why not revisit my review of "The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee"? I went to see it again last week, along with my parents, so the theater turned a profit on me after all (I won free tickets the first time). Another highlight of the week was meeting Shotgun Players' John Mercer at the Shotgun fundraiser. He was really nice, and I found out that he's a cabinetmaker. And yes, he is British. Hopefully he'll be cast in something else soon! Since I'm stuck in Crowded Noisy Trafficville for the time being, I thought I'd answer this vacation-centric Friday Five, even though it's Sunday.
Since it's been almost a week, I guess I should write something. We're in the middle of a heat wave here, which means we're having real summer weather for a change. I took BART to San Francisco on one of the "Spare the Air" days (free public transit), and hundreds of tourists, dressed in shorts, T-shirts and flip-flops, were lined up at Powell St. to take a free cable car ride. I am sure they all think the weather is like this all the time here in July. I hope they come back next summer and find themselves having to buy a stadium blanket at a Giants game to keep warm. The cold, foggy weather is part of our "charm," such as it were. (By the way, has anyone ever purchased the Giants Tape Measure?) Only in summer would I even consider going to see an Italian clown whose entire 70-minute routine consists of changing in and out of a series of paper costumes, set to a thumping soundtrack. Ennio is known as "the human paper doll," according to the Berkeley Rep's press release; I wasn't quite sure what to expect, but it's got to be better than watching "Rock Star: Supernova," right? Ennio is a lithe, expressive performer who takes on one identity after another during the show; if you're not enamored with one of his routines, wait 30 seconds and he'll be on to something else. He seems to have a special affinity for divas, playing Aretha, Barbra, Marilyn, Whitney, Peggy Lee, Tina Turner, Madonna (from four different eras!) and Celine Dion (who morphs into the Titanic, complete with mini-Jack and Rose). A few folds of his Snow White costume and he was suddenly Ozzy Osbourne, biting the head off a paper bat. Perhaps the cleverest bit has him doing a quick-change from Frankenstein to Frank Sinatra to Nancy Sinatra. He also plays all Three Tenors at once. I was amazed to read that Ennio does everything himself, with no assistant backstage to help him with his long series of rapid-fire costume changes. The show is highly imaginative and also highly silly, perfect for a July eve.
7.13.06 America's Got Television There hasn't been a lot going on lately in the outside world—well, there's always something going on here, but it's mid-July, not exactly a time for A-list entertainment. More like Shakespeare in the park and has-been rock stars performing at the local sheds. Desperate for entertainment, we turn to our old friend, television! "America's Got Talent": Or does it? I was persuaded to take a look at the NBC summer smash for the first time last night. A better name for the show might be "Regis Philbin's Amateur Hour." The petite emcee (except for the kid performers, almost everyone towers over him) introduced a yodeler, a ventriloquist, a juggler, the world's worst dog act, a 14-year-old Mariah/Whitney wannabe, and a cabaret singer who really should be starring in a community-theater revival of "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying," among others. I have to admit that the yodeling girl was a really good yodeler and the ventriloquist guy was a really good ventriloquist, but is there a lot of demand for these particular talents outside county fairs or Branson, Mo.? In the end, the "American Idol"-like trio of judges cast their vote for a 12-year-old harmonica player, who reminded me of Danny Partridge with a bad case of ADHD (his 20-year brother, who accompanied him on guitar, was but an afterthought, and the British judge caused Harmonica Boy to burst into tears when he suggested the lad would be better off without his less-charismatic sibling). I tried to call the toll-free number to vote for the yodeling girl, who deserves her own theater in Branson, Mo., someday, but alas, every time I tried, the line was busy. Follow your dream, little yodeling girl! "The 4400": This is the third season for this USA Network summer-only science fiction serial, which I love dearly despite the fact that it's often really stupid. Take, for example, the killer toddler who, at the end of last season, miraculously aged 20 years overnight and is now an incredibly hot young woman whose favorite pastimes are sex and killing people who get in the way of her having sex. The premise of the show is that 4,400 Earthlings were abducted by The Future People who returned each of them to Seattle with their own unique superpower. The 4400 are supposed to prevent some kind of unnamed catastrophe from happening, and are under constant attack from people trying to thwart them. I know it sounds ridiculous, but this is the sort of show that seems to make perfect sense in July. "The World Series of Pop Culture": I caught part of this on VH1 the other day and immediately became hooked. I love the fact that the host treats questions about Def Leppard lyrics and Scarlett Johansson movies with the same gravitas usually reserved for C-SPAN debates about Middle Eastern policy. Lots of fun for those of us who love talking back to our TV sets. ("How could you NOT know that the Heather Graham series cancelled after only one episode was 'Emily's Reasons Why Not,' you idiot?!?!?")
Everyone makes typos, even me, but some are more public than others. Check out yesterday's San Francisco Chronicle front page for a particularly conspicuous and embarrassing example. Today my mom tipped me off to this letter to the editor to the Grand Rapids Press, which refers to Al Gore's movie as "An Incontinent Truth." And no, it's not a juvenile way of slamming the film—the letter-writer calls it a "great documentary" and thinks all city leaders should see it. If there really was a film called "An Incontinent Truth," what would it be about? "The Depends™ Story," perhaps?
7.8.06 The Things You See In Traffic Spotted earlier today:
I snapped the pic with my camera phone at a stoplight. In case you can't tell, it's a scarecrow-like mannequin wearing fatigues, propped up in the back of a pick-up truck, with a sign around its neck reading "BUSH LIED, I DIED." It's not unusual to see cars around here adorned with a dozen bumper stickers, but this is certainly a more graphic way for the owner to make his feelings known. Of course, by driving it around the Berkeley area he's preaching to the converted; I wonder if he'd have the cojones to take his display on the road to more conservative parts of the state?
7.7.06 Another Reason To Love the Internet I arrived home a little after 9 AM after driving Joe to the BART station. I hadn't brushed my teeth yet, so my first stop was going to be the bathroom that's just off our bedroom. Then I tried to open the door to the bedroom, and it was locked. We never use that lock, so I'd sort of forgotten it was there. The key must have disappeared years ago, with one of the previous owners. I'm guessing the door blew shut because of the breeze and somehow the lock was activated. I felt a wave of panic starting to rise. I figured my best hope was to Google lock picking. About 15 minutes later, I was able to open the door. Granted, it was a simple spring lock and not a deadbolt, but still, I was pretty pleased.
7.6.06 A Happy Ending To the Season I was heading back to my seat after intermission and an older gentleman was blocking the aisle. His female companion (wife?) noticed me and said to him, "Let the young girl pass." Young girl? That's one I hadn't heard in a while; in fact, when I offered up my ID at a bar a few nights ago (a lot of local places demand that everyone show proof of age as a matter of course), the doorman practically rolled his eyes at my gesture. At a lot of rock shows these days, I feel like a senior. But at last night's performance of "Happy End" at A.C.T., I was practically a baby. After the show ended, there was a mad rush to the counter where assisted listening devices are rented. I realize that a lot of theatergoers are gray-haired—I wasn't able to find demographic information for San Francisco specifically, but this article says the average audience member for a touring Broadway show is 51 years old. Of course, I'd expect smaller local theaters with lower ticket prices to attract more young people than Broadway fare (we hardly ever attend Best of Broadway productions because they're the only shows in town where discounts are practically impossible to come by). But there was definitely something about this particular show that seemed to attract a lot of seniors. Maybe young folk just don't care for the offbeat song stylings of Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill? "Happy End" did debut about 80 years ago, after all. And it's kind of a corny story, involving a bunch of gangsters facing off against a Salvation Army chapter—and naturally the most pious Army member falls in love with the man who's trying to assert his leadership over the gang through acts of violence. Still, I thoroughly enjoyed it. The staging was first-rate; when the curtain went up at the beginning, the audience gasped at the sight of the elaborate, multi-level set of metallic beams and bridges. Brecht & Weill's songs can be a little difficult, but it's hard to imagine a better singer than soprano Charlotte Cohn (who plays the female lead, Hallelujah Lil) to bring tunes like "Sailors' Tango" and the gorgeous, showstopping "Surabaya Johnny" to life. Peter Macon also does a fabulous job of showing the internal struggles of lead gangster Bill Cracker, keeping this sometimes silly melodrama from becoming overly cartoonish. Linda Mugleston steals every scene she's in as the mysterious Lady in Grey who is the gang's true mastermind. "Happy End" continues through July 16. It may not be as hip as recent A.C.T. musicals like "The Black Rider" and "Urinetown," but it's great fun and if you're under 70, attending it will make you feel young. Now that I've seen all the plays, here's my rundown of the 2005-06 A.C.T. season, from favorite to least favorite: "Gem of the Ocean" (August Wilson)
There's nothing like a third-hand meme! So here, via yellojkt by way of Nick Hornby (whose Polysyllabic Spree is a total delight), is my list of books read/books bought in June 2006: Books read: Book listened to: Books bought: The Hill and Nabb books were the last two I read for my book group, which is now on its annual summer hiatus. Joe and I went to see the crossword puzzle documentary "Wordplay" over the weekend. I have to admire director Patrick Creadon for not trying to appeal to non-crossword fans; this one is strictly for the puzzle fanatics, which is a pretty huge demographic. If you nod knowingly when you see words like "olio," "ewer" and "erne," you'll enjoy "Wordplay." The film spends time both with celebrity crossword fans, like Jon Stewart and Bill Clinton, and people who have become stars in the puzzle world by excelling at the annual tournament, which celebrates its 30th anniversary next March. Now, even though I'm an avid, longtime solver, I don't really work for speed; I like to be reasonably sure my answers are correct before I write the letters in the grid. How tournament stars like Trip Payne and Tyler Hinman manage to solve puzzles in two or three minutes flat is a source of wonderment. I can usually solve the Sunday New York Times puzzle in 45 minutes to an hour, which in the tournament world would be considered hopelessly poky. I'm hoping the footage of the three-way face-off at the end of the '05 tournament documented in "Wordplay" will create enough demand that some cable TV station will show the '07 finals. Hey, if ESPN could get high ratings with the spelling bee...
|
|
