Archive for the ‘Kultcha’ Category
Saturday, May 5th, 2007
We hit stop on the DVD player about 10 minutes in to the second episode of Jennifer Fox’s Flying, Confessions of a Free Woman. The documentary filmmaker had just said, in the voice over, that she’d spent 20 years in therapy working on - what exactly? I can’t remember right now. What was clear at that point is that we were not the audience for this film. “TWENTY years in therapy and she can’t figure it out!?” We were both exasperated.
In Flying, the filmmaker travels the planet talking to women about sex, motherhood, relationships, you know… the kind of stuff girlfriends in movies and sitcoms sit around talking about over bottles of red wine. Divorces, lovers, commitment, yadda yadda yadda. The women are sympathetic, but I felt impatient with the whole undertaking. The problem for me was one of contrast. The filmmaker lives a life of clear privilege, cool job, cool New York City loft, exotic boyfriends, travel…but in the midst of talking with a mother who grew up under apartheid in Soweto or woman in the midst of cancer treatment, she turns the camera back on herself and talks about her own existential angst.
I want to like her and I want to care about her. She has an impressive background and according to her bio, has done remarkable work. And maybe, in person, I would be kinder and embrace her story. She seems like the kind of person I’d want to be my friend. But the film is just too exhibitionist for me, physically and emotionally - there’s a scene where she’s at the gynecologist and shot of the doctor is framed by the filmmakers bare legs. Edgy? Not for me. Icky is more like it. I don’t know this woman and I do not want to be at her pelvic exam. Even if I DO know you, I don’t want to be at your pelvic exam. Please.
I get that these are personal, intimate conversations and moments captured on film. Okay. And I can imagine visiting a friend who’s undergoing intense medical treatment. Instead of talking about the weight of that, we change the topic to lighter things. “What’s up with your husband?” my friend might ask, and then we’d have the kind of conversation that Jennifer Fox films. But that would be between me and my friend, not between me and an audience.
There’s a scene when one of the boyfriends is saying something like, “I don’t feel comfortable having this personal conversation on camera. I’m perfectly willing to talk about this between us, but I don’t want this conversation to take place in some movie theater…” Um, yeah.
Artists should make work for themselves, of course. But vanity projects that are released into the world need to somehow transcend, to go from the personal to the universal. Because Jennifer Fox keeps turning the camera back on herself, we’re constantly reminded that this is all about her.
We have four more hours of the series to watch. I’m pretty sure we’re not going to bother.
Disclaimer: I responded to a call for screeners of this documentary film series. No money changed hands. After this, I probably won’t be invited to screen anything again. Ever.
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Friday, April 27th, 2007
Disclaimer: The tour company gave me comps. They didn’t require that I write about the show, though they did ask if I’d consider posting about a promo ticket program, now expired. I decided not to promote the tix until I’d seen the show.
I have no cred for reviewing dance. It’s not something I know anything about or go out of my way to see. It’s not that I actively dislike dance - I always tag along when invited - it just doesn’t draw me out. I’m not a complete cretin, the last time I went to a dance performance I was gobstruck, really, I was overcome. See, it’s not like I can’t be moved by dance, but it’s not really my thing.
And there I was at Edward Scissorhands, surprised to find that the whole thing was a dance performance - I’d done no homework on purpose. “How’s that gonna work?” I asked. “We’ll soon find out!” said M, my fellow not a philistine but no high arts critic companion. The answer. “Meh. It works okay, I guess.”
The staging is spectacular - no, truly, it’s a spectacle. I loved the light and the sets and the costumes, they absolutely capture the aesthetic of Tim Burton’s genius movie. The row houses in the suburbs are brilliant and I laughed out loud when the families came out the front doors. The color is perfect and there’s one scene where it seems like everyone is dressed in the same patterned material - think the Von Trapp kids in those curtains - except for Edward, the Outsider. There’s a huge moon in the night at the dilapidated mansion scenes - it seems to fill the theater. And there are magical things with snow and and light. It’s a visual wonder.
As for the dancing? Well. It goes something like this: There are small scenes that move the story along and then, there are these Big Dance Numbers. Think about those crazy movies from the 40s and 50s where all of a sudden, in the middle of the story, with the thinnest of motivations, there’s a Big Dance Number. An American in Paris is a great example of this. You’re moving along through the story and then, what the hell? And there are, like, nine costume changes and nine different sets and it keeps going on and on.
Okay, I get it, it’s a dance performance. It’s about dancing. Except in this case, it’s not, it’s a story. I was kind of bored during the Big Dance Numbers. I wasn’t sure where to put my eyes - I kept losing the principals. I wasn’t so overcome by the skill and/or beauty of the dancing that I forgot about the story, so I kept trying to find the story in the crowd.
There were a few things I did really like - there’s a magical scene with topiary (of course) and a bit at the end (no spoilers) that transforms the theater into a Tim Burton wonderland. But I really disliked the bit with the cheerleaders in the pink bedroom - icky teenage fantasy - and I was too often bored. I did love the short fire and brimstone bit with the churchy family. That was hilariously expressive. But there wasn’t enough of that kind of integration between the medium (dance) and the story.
I was predisposed to like this show - I love Tim Burton and I love the movie. I just bought a suburban home with obsessively manicured hedges, too. But I didn’t love the show. If you are all about staging, you might enjoy this production. But if you’re in it for the dance, well, I can’t say. I should be saying “I don’t know nothing about dance, but this show, wow!” And I’m not.
Edward Scissorhands is at the 5th Avenue Theater in downtown Seattle. The show runs through May 15th.
Edward Scissorhands
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Tuesday, March 13th, 2007
Hilarious.
More Lio here.
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Saturday, February 17th, 2007
I absolutely adore Seattle’s International District. It smells funny, it’s crowded, the streets are unforgiveably dirty. The supermarkets are chaotic, the restaurant menus are mysterious and sometimes risky. The alleys smell bad, there are sketchy people everywhere. Parking can be a complete trial and walking can have its own challenges. But I love the I District and was happy to find myself wandering there in good company for today’s New Year celebration.
The Wing Luke Asian Museum was free today and that was our first stop. The museum documents the history of our local Asian population and highlights the shameful period of the “relocation” camps in a heartbreaking exhibit complete with barbed wire. It wasn’t sad in the museum today - the place was packed with kids making little red lanterns.
After the museum, we squeezed our way in to the crowded Union Station hall to watch a few traditional dance groups. The sound in the hall was a nightmare (yo, festival sponsors, maybe you want to hook the I District community up with some decent audio next time?) but the dancers were gorgeous and the little girls too adorable for words. Overwhelmed by the crush and the unbearable noise of the sound system, we got the hell out of there and went for bubble tea at Ambrosia - Seattle’s first bubble tea shop. The young man behind the counter looked exactly like an Miyazake hero - shocking good looks, perfectly cut hair, flipped up collar and sharp smooth cheekbones. Mango bubble tea and anime fantasy, 3.25.
Then we wandered over to Higo to flip through fancy books, admire the ceramics, and generally adore what the new owners did with the store. Higo used to be a stuffed to the rafters variety store - I used to wander around in there for hours eyeing the plastic doo dads and house coats and chopsticks and well, they had all kinds of stuff there. The west wall of the store still has a the old display cases and odds and ends from Higo’s old inventory on display.
On the way home we passed an herbalist and tea shop, another housewares store featuring rice cookers and religious icons, a teeny tiny burrito counter, a handful of jewelry stores, a Mexican market, and the old Wonder Bread factory. I never get tired of this part of the city, it’s a wonderland.
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Speaking of the I District, we did indeed eat on Jackson Street this last Friday night. The choice? Lemongrass, a little Vietnamese place that supposedly serves up “the best five spice chicken on the planet” - or some such glowing review. While the chicken was good, all right - perfectly cooked, crispy, not oily - I wouldn’t have gone so far as to call it the best on the planet. On the other hand, the lemongrass ginger chicken? Delicious. Lemongrass is something of a subtle flavor, but this stuff must have stewed in it, so richly did it have that lemony grassy taste. Yummy. The only downside was that we’d ordered heavy on the meat and ended up asking the waiter to bring us a plate of garlic green beans to round out the meal. Good stuff, speedy service, and with four entrees on the table at 32 dollars, totally affordable. Good service, too. If you’re there on a cold night, sit away from the door, it’s a small place and gets kinda drafty.
Lemongrass is at 1207 South Jackson in the Ding Ho Plaza. Parking is available in the oddly signed garage underneath. Make a risky left turn off Jackson and go right down the ramp as you pull into the shopping center.
Seattle International District
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Friday, February 2nd, 2007
I just started a new gig downtown. It’s a delight to work in downtown Seattle because there’s just a ton of stuff outside the office building, because it’s close to home, and because, hey, it’s downtown Seattle, how great is that?
But also, there’s a fun thing that happens as I wend my way downtown and back up to Cap Hill again. I go through two distinct fashion ecosystems. First, up here on the hill, the 80s are back, big time! I can’t count how many times in the last two weeks I’ve seen bleached blonds in fishnets and miniskirts, looking for all the world like Blondie herself reincarnated in various sizes and shapes. And that Ramones look, not quite bedhead, not quite styled, with the super tight jeans, black t-shirts, and short jackets… I don’t know that I’ll be reviving it in my wardrobe, but it makes me giddy to see it.
And downtown? Late sixties, early seventies, big time. The big department stores look like the windows are stocked with extras from early episodes of The Rockford Files, or maybe from a bad Jack Lemmon/Walter Matthau movie. Belted chunky knit sweaters and big sunglasses, handbags with heavy gold accents, platform shoes. Did you really tuck your jeans in to your knee length boots? Why yes, yes you did! Wow! And what are the chain stores selling the hip kids? I swear it’s my California wardrobe from 1986, the ragged cutoffs with surfer t-shirts, a tank top under a spaghetti strap dress, stuff I wore to the studio while I was finishing my art degree…
It’s awesome. I’m not much of a participant in fashion. I want my money for other things. But it doesn’t mean I’m not a happy observer of trends. I can’t wait til summer comes, it’s going to be big fun on Broadway.
Rapture.
Seattle fashion
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Wednesday, January 3rd, 2007
Big screen: Night at the Museum
- Ben Stiller must work out because he appears to really haul ass in that one scene.
- I don’t care. If it has Owen Wilson in it, I’ll watch it.
- Earth Wind and Fire is always good party music.
- I’ve never worked a solo night shift and that’s probably a good thing. I can see how your imagination could totally get the better of you.
- Some fifth thing that I forget. That movie was funny, but didn’t exactly have staying power.
Little screen TV on DVD: Northern Exposure
- Wow, it really does hold up over time.
- That doctor was one whiny pain in the ass.
- It is funny to see places you know so well on TV.
- The romance is amusing, but it was so not the best thing about this show.
- When this show was good, it was brilliant. Really freakin’ brilliant. The last episode of Season 1 just blew my mind. No, really. It was amazing.
Little screen DVD: Citizen Kane
- They don’t make movies like this anymore. There might be a reason for that.
- Of course it’s Hearst. Duh.
- “I think it would be fun to run a newspaper.”
- The Third Man is a much better movie.
- J. never gets the obscure movies, and THIS he got. I found that mildly irritating.
Little screen DVD: Grizzly Man
- People should stay away from bears.
- People should stay away from bears.
- People should stay away from bears.
- People should stay away from bears.
- People should stay away from bears.
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