Austin360 blogs > Out & About > Archives > 2007 > March
March 2007
Irish ale and volleyball death
Drink: Before meeting freelancer Kevin Burns at Fado on Fourth Street, I did a little research at RateBeer.com. This neat site rates and ranks hundreds of beers, then conveniently breaks them down by country of origin (and other categories).
I’m not a fan of the fake Irish decor at Fado, but I must say that every time I’ve visited, people seemed to be having a genuine, pubby good time.
Sports: Favorite headline of the week: Greece suspends team sports after volleyball match violence.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Not ‘might,’ these were giants
Famous: Austin lost two giants this week.
Ruth Denney, who died Tuesday, trained three generations of theater folk, mostly in Houston and Austin. Kay Longcope, who passed away Thursday, co-founded the Texas Triangle and pioneered advocacy journalism for gays and lesbians.
I was blessed to know both these role models for many years. They cannot be replaced. My condolences to their companions Jean and Barbara.
After the Farking
Media: You gotta maintain a sense of humor in this business.
After the pile-on at Fark.com, the numbers are dwindling. Still, more than 45,000 people were drawn to Out & About by my novelty headline and Fark’s nasty link. I haven’t experienced this much adolescent bullying since junior high.
Comments at that site and in our commentary box can be sorted into a few dishy categories.
1. Didn’t get the humor in the headline “Wild Hot Tub Action.”
2. Didn’t see the irony in attaching that headline to the dullest, most domestic posting I’ve published in three years.
3. Figured I was gay. (Elementary, my dear Watson.)
4. Thought I was old, repugnant, based on a quickie newsroom mug — head shot only. (You’ll be 53 some day. Or not.)
Or thought I was “not so bad.” (Thanks, I guess.)
5. Used the opportunity to attack my colleagues or my partner.
6. Argued about the coolness/not coolness of Austin/Waco. Not much of a fight there.
7. Complained that I was being paid for this. Not really. It’s a pleasant complement to my day job, Austin American-Statesman Entertainment Editor.
8. Like my work as Entertainment Editor. (Thank you.)
9. Remembered me, or misremembered me from years ago.
10. Strayed close to libel. (We know who you are, lame country singer.)
My 48 hours of fame was fun, if brutal. Now maybe some readers can get to know my blog on its own terms, as it threads out twice a day.
Permalink | Comments (3) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Forging culture with ‘The Namesake’
Movies: An advance look at my review of “The Namesake,” which opens at the Arbor on Friday.
Usher: This must be about India.
Customer: Yes, it is.
Usher: I’ve never seen so many Indians in one place.
Customer: You must not live north …
Usher: Cedar Park, that’s about as north as you can get.
Customer: Every Saturday at Wells Branch — the theater that closed — they show Hindu … I mean Hindi movies, and the place was always packed.
The yearning for a mainstream crossover hit that appeals to American and South Asian audiences is more than just a movie producer’s daydream. From the evidence of the multifarious crowd at the preview screening of “The Namesake” this week, audiences ache for a movie that depicts the convergence of Indian, American and Asian American experiences.
This movie, performed in English, Bengali and Hindi, among other languages, will not fulfill those longings exactly, although it comes close.
Later, the Americans behind me cracked up knowingly as the Indian couple’s two children, now in the suburbs, predictably adopted teen culture: slang, casual clothing, minor drugs, sexual freedom.
Both contingents joined in laughter and audible sympathy as the story took a sterner turn and the Gangulis faced heartaches, twists of fortune and devastating loss. Profound family guilt and longing for trappings of the Old World are not exclusive properties of earlier American immigrants.
For a good part of the movie, the burden of translating these trials into comedy and drama fall on the shoulders of two mature, sensitive and subtle actors: Irfan Khan, who plays a bookish professor with a thirst for world travel; and Tabu, a graceful Bollywood actor who manages to make even a phone call to her son a minor song-and-dance of revelatory movements and vocalizations.
The title character, Gogol Ganguli, is played by Kal Penn, a light comedian best known for “Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle” and “Van Wilder 2: The Rise of Taj.” Penn specializes in outrageously typical young Americans who happen to trace their ethnic heritages to Asian or Middle Eastern backgrounds.
The audience subsequently tolerates Penn’s Gogol as he rises in the architecture profession, adopts the family of his blonde girlfriend and trims his hair for a more uptown lifestyle. The trick, for the movie’s makers, is enticing viewers into weeping along with Gogol as he faces cataclysm and shears off his hair completely (his follicles play a symbolic role, if you haven’t guessed).
If our response to Penn in mourning is not exactly, well, as we might react to the more formidable actor who shares his last name, his Gogol — and his hair — continue to evolve into more ambiguous adulthood. Gogol, like other Bengali characters in the movie, never fits into one culture or another completely, and they come to understand that’s part of the first or second generation immigrants’ bargain.
Director Mira Nair (“Monsoon Wedding,” “Vanity Fair”) trails behind the David Lean and Merchant/Ivory traditions of ravishing landscapes, dazzling displays of natural light and, especially in this case, multithread fabrics revealed in doting close-ups. The symbolism is light-handed, except in the case of bridges, which muscle onto the screen whether we are in Calcutta or New York.
A gentleness strokes the heart of “The Namesake.” The characters are exposed to emotional, not physical, jeopardy, nothing outside the almost universal human experience. This balminess pushes the audience along on warm waves of familiarity and strangeness but ultimately fails to sink deep into our consciousnesses.
Permalink | Comments (2) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
From ‘Dirt’ to ‘Riches’ and TNR
TV: Well, the season finale of FX’s “Dirt” fizzled.
Yes, the scenes in the Joshua Tree National Park took the photographer’s dementia to new extremes. And we were shocked to find that Lucy’s brother had stalked the gossip mag editor (he was trying to teach her a lesson because he loves her!).
The O.J.-esque stabbing scenes in the final minutes came out of nowhere, as did Lucy’s last line, as she lay in a pool of blood: “Take the pictures. Then call 911.”
What continues to nag — and TV critic Diane Holloway spotted this early on — Courteney Cox’s character makes no sense. She’s tough and scrappy. Then she’s hurt and vulnerable. I know one impulse is supposed to flow from the other, but Cox’s acting just doesn’t make the necessary connections. (Still, I like her more here than in “Friends.”)
The show holds my interest, and I hope it returns next season, given improved writing and acting.
TV 2: Needing little improvement is “The Riches,” FX’s fresh comic drama about con artists who settle into normal, suburban lives of a deceased, well-off family. (“The Beverly Hillbillies” bumps into “Grifters.”)
Suffice it to say that Deep South-accented Minnie Driver and naturally charismatic Eddie Izzard rule as the household heads who drum up different skills while fooling the “buffers.”
Media: Now that the newly purchased, expanded, re-designed and less frequently issued version of The New Republic has hit the stands, it feels more like Atlantic Monthly or Harper’s, in terms of a solid few hours of reading. From what I’ve seen so far, TNR hasn’t lost its punch.
Permalink | Comments (1) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Get Farked!
Media: The big news: Out & About has been linked to on Fark.com. Look for the Austin 360 logo in the March 26 links on the main page.
The snarky opinion on the link is cruel, but, hey, the results are exactly what I had hoped for: 25,000 hits yesterday, 10,000 so far today! There’s no such thing as bad publicity.
Be sure to read the comments box. My favorite: “Your bio makes me want to ice pick your brainstem.”
Food: My nephew heads out for a job in Lafayette, La., soon, so I thought I’d treat him to some good Cajun food to prime the cultural pump. Evangeline Cafe, which occupies a strip-center hole in the wall on Brodie Lane, is the real deal.
I started with the seafood gumbo and moved on to the catfish covered with a thick corn-and-crawdad sauce. The place was hopping on a Monday night.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Entering ‘The Lives of Others’
Movies: Chilly. Glacial. Precise.
These are not words one would use to describe a boundlessly moving film, but they apply to “The Lives of Others,” the German movie that won the Oscar for foreign-language picture.
I’ll leave the plot about a efficient Stasi spy who undergoes a profound change of heart while bugging a playwright and his actress girlfriend to Statesman contributor John DeFore’s superior review.
I’ll content myself with praising Ulrich Muhe, who, as the Stasi agent, brings an artfully subdued quality to the screen, not unlike the similarly circumscribed performances of Alec Guinness. The final moments of this long-ish movie completely bowled me over.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Wild Hot Tub Action: Part 2
Recreation: At least the spa arrived. (Read Part 1 below about our “Wages of Fear” experience on Saturday.)
Sunday, we made our big Spring gardening push — planted a mountain laurel to replace the cherry laurel that died in the freeze, cut back the wild roses, staked the sage, spread the native hardwood mulch — all the while prepping the driveways for the arrival of the spa.
The sky darkened. Rain? It faded into dusk when the spa guys finally arrived from Houston with a wonderful contraption, a trailer with a built-in dolly just the right size for big ol’ hot tubs. It slipped into place within 10 minutes.
Additionally, I lost my trifocal glasses while gardening, so we’ve spent a good deal of time since then backtracking and trying to figure out where I completely lost my head.
Permalink | Comments (8) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Wild Hot Tub Action: Part 1
Recreation: So far, no hut tub. But stay with me. There’s a story to tell.
Two years ago, my sister, in act of astounding generosity, gave us her top-of-the-line spa — 7.5’ x 7.5’, 500 gallons and five scalloped seats. But how to transport the 750-lb. hot tub from The Woodlands to Austin?
People consider me a fairly good organizer. I plan dinners and trips. I manage large projects at work. But this one stumped me.
My sister recommended hiring the original spa company to disconnect and load it onto a trailer. Good idea. So I called around for 8’ x 8’ trailers. None could be rented for love or money, or at least I couldn’t find any.
I noticed while searching the Web that a trusted local company rented 1-ton flatbeds, really just souped-up pick up trucks, with beds about three feet off the ground. I made a reservation, but, on the day of transfer, they were out and offered us instead a 20’ flatbed. I said OK.
The trip down to The Woodlands was a bit scary, but smooth, and we arrived well before the spa people came, so two of my sisters and one of my nieces shared a comfy repast with us.
The minute the spa man arrived and looked at the 20’ flatbed, I knew we were in trouble.
“There’s no way we are going to lift that spa up to that bed,” which was, more than 5’ off the ground. And we had no forklift.
An angel was watching over us, because, within minutes, we had agreed on a reasonable price to transport the spa himself. He’d also unload and hook it up in Austin. Bingo!
All we needed now was to return the flatbed to Austin. Well, the first leg of the trip went fine, then, after fueling up in Magnolia, we started losing acceleration. By the time we got to Hempstead, we were making only 15 mph uphill and 35 or so downhill. In Brenham, we almost came to a standstill, but were able to ride the wide shoulder from there to Giddings.
Just west of Giddings, with still 60 miles to go, we were inching along at 15 mph, with no shoulder on this stretch, so in traffic going 70 plus. It was like “The Wages of Fear,” or the poorly titled but equally terrifying remake, “Sorcerer,” which depicted outcasts driving explosives on a flatbed through the jungles of South America.
So we pulled over, called the rental company, which, after some discussion, sent a very nice employee out to pick us up. He was going to drive the flatbed back, only to find that it wouldn’t go into any gear but reverse.
We made it back safely, my stomach in shreds. The rental company kindly forgave our deposit and so we await the arrival, today, of the spa.
If it comes… To be continued.
Permalink | Comments (2) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
On Aggies and other rivals
Sports: Allow me to share some thoughts sparked by Aggies’ tissue-thin loss to Memphis last night.
The men improved under Tom Penders, but have really blossomed with Rick Barnes. A few trips to the College World Series also won me over to the baseball and softball teams.
But what are championship seasons without rivals? The Aggies suffered badly during the 1990s. Their recent return to power in football and basketball is welcome, if only because it gives the Horns more reasons to win. And anything that helps the Big 12 reputation, helps the Horns. (That Kip’s family attended A&M plays a role as well.)
After all, Our 12 will never boast the academic standards of the Pac 10, or the consistent team excellence of the SEC, or the hallowed Midwest-state-school traditions of the Big 10. We’ve recovered from the demise of the Southwest Conference, without redefining our culture in terms of the other Great Plains schools.
That’s why I cheer the Aggies and honor them even in defeat.
Sullivan’s and sandwiches
Food: The wait for a table at Lambert’s, the ultra-buzzy downtown BBQ spot, was 90 minutes — on an early Wednesday evening. I love Lou Lambert, but I’m not waiting that long. Will grow up and make a reservation next time. Promise.
So, Kip and I dived into the Warehouse District, looking for a special-occasion dinner (it was our 16th). Almost at the same time, we realized we’d never eaten in the main dining room at Sullivan’s (which had its day as a buzzy eatery years ago, before the chain reaction).
As expected, our steaks were generous, tender and cooked to order. My mushroom filet mignon, at only 8 oz., was too much beef for me.
The calimari was crisp, if a little too breaded and lacking sauce; the bread felt warm to the touch, and the iceberg wedge dripped with blue cheese.
Our only real disappointment was the wine price list. We chose a low-end Burgundy, which turned out to be OK. But at $70!
I know this is where restaurants make their profits, but when your average bottle is well over $100, something is out of whack. Or maybe I’m naive.
Still, it was a special evening.
Food 2: Ranking sandwich spots that I’ve visited recently:
1. Jo’s on Second Street: Oh, what the heck, everything here is great. Try it all. If you can push past the crowds.
2. Cissi’s Market: A thick, multi-meat-and-cheese special, carefully constructed on ciabatta bread. (And, thanks, to the abusive e-mailer, who corrected my earlier spelling. Man, typos bring out the grouches!)
3. P&K Grocery: The prosciutto radiated an earthy warmth, but the sandwich was a bit on the thin and toasty side. Very helpful service, though, and a wonderful place to lounge on a rainy afternoon.
Permalink | Comments (1) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
From ‘American Fiesta’ to Stax
Theater: You’ve likely read about it in Jeanne Claire van Ryzin’s blog or in our print Newsmakers column, but for those who haven’t: Steven Tomlinson’s “American Fiesta” previews off-Broadway at the Vineyard Theatre beginning April 14.
We’re headed up to NYC to see it in May.
Music: You may have read Michael Corcoran’s SXSW story on the Stax 50th Anniversary Celebration at Antone’s. I’ve been listening to the double disc from the historic Memphis label, and I’m struck by the deep soulfulness — if that’s a word — of these recordings.
I mean, take Isaac Hayes’ takes on “Never Can Say Goodbye” or “Walk on Bye.” So much more life experience in that deep, rounded voice than in other versions.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Austin Rodeo does Foreigner
Recreation: Butch was busting out all over at the Travis County Expo Center for Rodeo Austin.
We sat at one extreme of the arena, near the bull-and-bronc holding pens, which turned out to be fortuitous, since we could observe the riders prepping for their seconds of glory or shame.
The broncers were, in general, taller and more traditionally rugged, as were the calf ropers and team ropers. The women, in their sole adult sport, blurred across our field of vision as they circled their barrels on horseback. (High number of tumps Tuesday.)
The apparent cruelty to some of the animals never totally leaves your consciousness, but as the announcer reminded us, “How do you think your hamburger ends up on your plate?” Worth contemplation.
A shockingly high number (4,000?) of rodeo-goers stayed for the Foreigner concert that followed. Yes, this is strictly a nostalgia act, the only original member being Mick Jones, who can still burn up a guitar.
Even with all those hits, “The Rough Guide to Rock” doesn’t even mention Foreigner. Shame.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Austin ‘Dirt’
TV: Quick Austin bit on ‘Dirt,’ the FX series that has become my guiltiest TV pleasure:
Holt: “Think about 60 acres …”
Julia: “But it’s in Texas, a red state.”
Holt: “And near Austin, a blue city.”
Later, Holt pleads “If not Austin, maybe Montana?”
Austin and Montana? A sly Dennis Quaid reference?
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
‘300’ kneels to ‘Lord of the Rings’
Movies: Without “The Lord of the Rings,” there would be no “300,” the action movie based, in part, on Herodotus’ version of the Battle of Thermopylae, as refracted through a cultic graphic novel.
While “300” never rises to the grand themes of LOTR, it’s far superior to “Troy,” in part because the narrative focus is tighter and the writers don’t take pointless liberties with the history, or, at least they do so on an imaginative level, not altering motivations or roles.
Another LOTR parallel — more disturbing — is the explicit depiction of Westerners as threatened by the tyrannical, degenerate powers of the East, here in highly theatricalized versions of heavily pierced, masked or shrouded Asians and Africans. Adding fuel to contemporary cultural flames? Uh, yes.
Especially since the movie celebrates an undilutedly fascist fealty to power, blood and nation. “We are Spartans!” is the only excuse the characters need for their actions. And a culture that hands its young over to a brutalizing government at an early age can hardly call itself the hallmark of freedom.
Borrowing a phrase from Zbig Brzezinski, who appeared the other night on “The Daily Show with Jon Stewart,” it speaks to “Manichaean paranoia,” or an extreme case of Us vs. Them.
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Missed at SXSW: Temposhark
Music: This is a little game everyone can play: Who did I miss when they played just walking distance away, especially at SXSW, where one can see only a fraction of the 1,800 bands over four days?
I’m going through my leftover SXSW CDs, and the first one, a 2005 mix, made me regret skipping Temposhark, a London electronic pop act with compulsively catchy tunes and forward-thinking beats, along with a quiet social consciousness.
Temposhark
TV: I am not alone in picking Melinda Doolittle as an early favorite in the “American Idol” eliminations.
I rewound and played her “Home” from “The Wiz” a half dozen times. Simon got it right when he compared her to an early Gladys Knight, not a bit like the gospely Jennifer Hudson.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Out at SXSW Blog No. 15
Music: It may have been the biggest Austin crowd ever for a hip-hop act, unless you count the people who drifted over to the Roots stage at the ACL Festival.
The 20-year veterans of Public Enemy may have once represented the racial/political opposition, but they clearly could draw an enormous (mostly white) crowd Friday to Auditorium Shores.
Alas, the insufficient sound system served them not at all, completely eliminating the middle register where I sat, leaving most of the crucial lyrics unheard.
Many in the audience, like myself, who had waited in line to enter the venue, left early, swarming the gates like warrior ants.
I headed to the Parish, where lines formed L-brackets on Sixth Street for Buffalo Tom, who can still pull a crowd in Austin. His set was tighter than the pants on a UT football player, but his roots rock never rose above admirable.
The next act, Denton’s the Dreams, demonstrated a wider range, fully utilizing all five players and raising the collective temperature of the crowd.
I headed, then, to Bourbon Rocks, where Christian Scott’s jazz band warmed up a happy crowd, with especial leaning on the group’s guitarist, who could elevate a simple flutter into an electronic halo.
Was disappointed by Gruff Rhys, the bruited Welsh band, who, after an interminable setup at Rocks, proceeded to play pretty flat music that I would identify as weird new folk. (Correct me if I’m wrong.)
But Sixth Street, man, I wish it could be like this every night, not just the euphoric mood, not just the unusual mix of young and old, local and tourist, industry and fan, but major league music pouring from every club door or window, not just the cover acts that have, in the past decade, clotted our main entertainment district.
Yes, SXSW urges the city to its fullest potential. And hey, it’s good to brandish that platinum badge.
So on Saturday, exhausted, we spent the afternoon on the front porch, after some gardening, listening to competing bands ensconced at nearby Jo’s, Yard Dog, Guero’s and Freddie’s.
I read Faulkner. The wind caressed our skins like the light touch of a lover.
Bliss.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Out at SXSW Blog No. 14
Movies: Here’s wrap on the SXSW Film Festival, which critic Chris Garcia and I co-wrote (more on Music later):
First, it rained celebrities: Paul Rudd, Ann-Margret, Lily Tomlin, Bill Paxton, Adam Sandler, Don Cheadle, Morgan Spurlock, Shia LeBeouf and two nerdy guys dressed as Superman and the Hulk.
Superman explained the origins of his super-belt to Rudd (“It’s from ‘Superman III,’ ” he murmured as if divulging a state secret), and young women swarmed the men for photos and autographs. Rudd (pictured) was equally accessible, funny and photo-friendly at the Austin Chronicle party Monday at La Zona Rosa. The party also served as the after-bash for Rudd’s “Knocked Up,” the riotous follow-up to Judd Apatow’s “The 40-Year-Old Virgin,” which had a capacity Paramount crowd in joyous tears.
Rudd and his “Knocked Up” co-stars Jonah Hill and Martin Starr (of “Freaks and Geeks” fame) drank beer and raptly watched the special musical performance by Loudon Wainwright III, who also has a small part in the film.
“He’s amazing,” Rudd gushed.
When a young man offered Rudd some pot, the actor politely declined, saying, “I need to keep it straight here.”
A woman then approached him and asked if he had slept with many women at the festival. With good humor, he called the woman a synonym for “hussy” and showed her his wedding band.
“Knocked Up” was a certified buzz film and a big hit at SXSW. Other standout movies include:
•”The Unforeseen,” Laura Dunn’s mesmerizing documentary on Barton Springs.
•”Scott Walker: 30 Century Man,” an unprecedented profile of the reclusive musical genius.
•”Audience of One,” in which a Pentecostal pastor attempts to make a $200 million science-fiction epic because God told him to. The documentary won a Special Jury Award at the SXSW film awards.
•”Kamp Katrina,” a snapshot of the slowly evolving human dramas in the aftermath of the hurricane.
•”King Corn,” a keen look at the politics and economics of American agriculture.
•”The Ten,” David Wain and Ken Marino’s perversely hilarious absurdist comedy, co-starring Rudd, Gretchen Mol and Winona Ryder.
Across downtown eager hustlers (politely) shoved postcards and other promotional movie items into the hands of passersby. Some of the most skillful promoters pushed two humorous but serious-minded documentaries: “What Would Jesus Buy?,” which follows a comic preacher as he fights shopping addiction, and “Manufacturing Dissent,” a fair if devastatingly critical portrait of firebrand filmmaker Michael Moore.
Blatant, if friendly, lobbying for audience awards progressed alongside the more studied work of official festival jurors.
Audiences, for instance, favored Bill Haney’s “The Price of Sugar” for the Emerging Visions prize, Marlo Poras’ “Run Granny Run” for best documentary and Monty Miranda’s “Skills like this” for best narrative feature.
Jurors preferred Jennifer Venditti’s “Billy the Kid,” a movingly intimate profile of an autistic 15-year-old boy, for documentary feature and Jamie Babbit’s “Itty Bitty Titty Committee” for narrative feature, among dozens of prizes announced Tuesday (go to Austin 360.com for a complete list of winners, plus film reviews).
“Billy the Kid” had viewers buzzing. “It’s the best film I’ve seen in maybe 10 years,” said Michael Taylor, co-editor of last year’s big SXSW doc “Be Here to Love Me: A Film About Townes Van Zandt.”
Film awards court as much disappointment as glory. Dennis, aka Superman, and Queenan, aka Hulk, were “bouncing off the walls” before Tuesday’s ceremony, because they had heard that “Confessions of a Superhero” was nominated for the Emerging Visions honor.
The film did not win, proving that even superheroes can suffer the pains of mere mortals.
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Out at SXSW Blog No. 13
Music: Pop music is like quick sex.
It follows a rigid formula, supplies a burst of ecstasy, then it’s over.
This observation, hardly original, evolved from a discussion with American-Statesman copy editor Sue Whaley about high/low culture, the classical canon and the potential preservation of the best from rock, hip-hop and other popular forms.
The most complex works of classical music — and that’s a mighty broad category, that nowadways includes most jazz and various forms of non-Western traditional music — develop over the course of many minutes or, in the case of opera, hours. Themes are altered and explored, a sort of narrative connects the opening to the closing.
A pop set is a series of short pieces, mostly alike, even if highly pleasurable. During the past three years, I’ve attended maybe 200 club or outdoor concerts, and, at every single one, at some point, I’m bored, because it’s A, then A again, then A with a slight twist, but still A.
This even goes for David Bowie and DJ Shadow, who showed the most range among those gigs I witnessed. (One benefit: I makes it easier to order a drink or visit the facilities when almost every song so closely resembles the last and the next.)
Thursday, I feasted on five acts, but only stayed through the whole set for one: The Portland-based Stars of Track and Field at Momo’s.
It was a banquet of music, each set attracting a different crowd. (Mostly screamy young women for the Rockets, thin, pale boys for the Errors, beefier crowds of color for the hip-hop show, and an older, industry-looking mass for the clearly buzzy Stars of Track and Field.)
Not being an expert, I’ll have to ask XL writer Joe Gross — or you, my readers — to lend a name to the glistening instrumental webs common to the Errors, Stars and an Austin band that can sustain a long listen: Explosions in the Sky.
I may be blurbed on the poster for Band of Heathens — which won best new band at the Austin Music Awards! — as one of its early promoters, but I’m no pop critic yet. Hey, it took me decades to become an arts critic. Movies, TV, music, games, food — they take time to analyze.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Out at SXSW Blog No 12
Recreation: For those attending the SXSW Music Festival, today was the day, the start of more than 100 hours of nonstop showcases, parties, speeches, panels and outdoor concerts.
For those who consume all three fests — film, interactive and music — Wednesday was, instead, hump day. We’ve been at it since last Friday, so it was a good time to take it easy (also to catch up on entertainment editorial duties).
How to stay healthy and sane during SXSW?
Take a longer hike. The 10-mile loop that constitutes the Town Lake Trail is the most convenient way to stretch your legs and find out why Austinites live in the urban core. Access it anywhere near the river.
Eat healthy. You’ve probably discovered that Whole Foods and Farm to Market Grocery wait within easy walking distances of prime SXSW venues. But don’t discount Texas-bred fast food such as Freebird’s on South Congress or Schlotzsky’s on South Lamar. Or for hardcore vegetarian fare, try Casa de Luz on Toomey Road.
Swim. Stacy Neighborhood Pool, located off South Congress Avenue about 2 miles south of the river (at 800 E. Live Oak St.), is open, free and heated by natural warm springs. Not as iconic as Barton Springs, but good way to work out the kinks underwater.
See a therapist. Meaning a massage therapist. The town is lousy with them. Among the best: Bruce Christman (bcolinc@sbcglobal.net), who works out of his house in Barton Hills. A gentle giant of a grandfather with the strongest hands in Travis County. Trust him.
Shop. OK, you know you are relaxed when you can shop. Not the anxiety-ridden variety depicted in “What Would Jesus Buy,” but slow, aimless, sensual shopping. Forms. Colors. Sensations. South Congress is best for stylish local fare, but West Sixth and the Drag are worth a gander.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Out at SXSW Blog No 11
Street: Despite the early-morning damp, lines strung around the Jo’s Hot Coffee’s street box, so I dipped into Cissi’s Market for a delicious brew — and no waiting. Every time another hip shop opens on South Congress Avenue, I think, they can’t possibly sustain it (three gourmet shops! No way!).
But they do. And this week, the tourists actually match the clothing sold in the SoCo boutiques. Hovercraft and Blackmail are the only two that regularly carry menswear that fits my 53-year-old figure, but if I lose weight … watch out!
Looks like the weather will clear for the music festival. I’ll be editing today, so no day parties or showcases. I’ll keep my ear to the ground about gossip, such as the rumor that Perez Hilton is in town, tagging along after smashed-up Amy Winehouse.
Perez with Paris
Keep the tips coming!
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Out at SXSW Blog No 10
Movies: I will be forever grateful to XL music critic Joe Gross for introducing me to Scott Walker, the American-born musician who went from teen pop idol in the 1960s to Jacques Brel-influenced baritione interpreter in the ’70s, to innovative songwriter in the ’80s and reclusive serious composer in the ’90s.
Scott Walker
Anyone who takes pop music serioulsy already knows his story, but they won’t have seen the man or his full history until “Scott Walker: 30 Century Man,” the documentary that made its North American debut at SXSW. What a film! I’ve rarely been more engrossed in an artist’s development.
Walker could easily come across as a nutcase, but he’s not, just a creative man exploring the true edge of music, and enriching all our lives along the way.
Permalink | Comments (1) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Out at SXSW Blog No. 9
Music: In Adam Rapp’s “Blackbird,” a strung-out, grizzled Desert Storm vet meets a homeless, first-time stripper from the Midwest who’s escaped the suburbs of Detroit for exactly the reason you’d expect.
Adam Rapp
Unexpectedly, the motley, mysteriously motivated characters they meet in New York City treat them well. Expectedly, things eventually go very badly for our junkie and stripper, while they undergo awful depredations, medical and otherwise.
Mainlining Sam Elliott, Paul Sparks throws in all his acting marbles as the vet, while Gillian Jacobs looks alternately vulnerable and foxlike. Rapp, a playwright familiar to the stage set, wrote and directed “Blackbird,” adapted from his play.
It’s not a bad transfer to the screen, just a predictable one.
The wet, by the way, has not detered festival-goers, who are unfailingly polite while lining up in the rain.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Out at SXSW Blog No. 8
Nightlife The SXSW magic infects any event downtown this week. I missed both festival movies I was trying to catch last night, but ended up at two small, swell parties.
The first was a subdued affair at Antone’s, given by the Marsha Milam folks for exiting publicist (and sometime Statesman contributor) John T. Davis. I chatted with him and his wife, Kathy Cordova, while listening to a low-key band. If anyone needs writing talent, look up John T.
John T. and Kathy
Cooling my heels at Rain, I stumbled on Heather Henson’s unsettling “Puppet Dreams” video anthology. Swapped insider stories with Shout editor Rob Faubion, who was promoting several mega-gay mega-parties, chatted with Austin Cabaret Theatre’s Stuart Moulton and met two sharp people, including Ellen Huang from Park City, Utah, who arranges gay and lesbian get-togethers at big festivals like SXSW.
Ellen and Rob
Today, I’m headed over to Interactive to catch Sim-maker Will Wright, then on to a couple of movies or parties tonight.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Out at SXSW Blog No. 7
Movies: The rolling thunderstorm last night cut short some late-night after-partying. But tonight, the lines should be long and lively. (Looks like it’s too late for me to catch the much-discussed comedy “Knocked Up.”
If you were wondering which SXSW movies our critics liked best, here’s a sampler of four-star reviews.
“The Unforeseen.” “It’s not long into (this movie) that you realize that what you’re watching is less a documentary about development’s effect on Barton Springs and more a work of art, a kind of mesmerizing collage of maps and graphics, of now-and-then split screens, and of vivid underwater camera work.” — Asher Price
“30 Century Man: Scott Walker” “(It) almost gets four stars for existing at all. It’s pretty much required viewing for anyone with even a passing interest in one of the weirdest men in pop history.” — Joe Gross
“Severance.” “‘The Office’ meets the slasher pic in “Severance,” an often hilarious spin on horror in a similar vein to (but less charming than) ‘Shaun of the Dead.’” — John DeFore
“Hard Road Home” “(It’s) is a documentary, not a suspense thriller, but there aren’t many films that make you wonder so intensely what’s about to happen — and fill you with such dread about what it might be.” — Sarah Lindner
Fish Kill Flea “(It’s) is a sad, funny and astute collage about life at a flea market that’s set up shop at a deserted shopping mall in Fishkill, N.Y.” — Sarah Lindner
“Kamp Katrina” “The filmmakers capture some of the sad, slowly evolving dramas that the nightly news can’t squeeze into periodic updates on New Orleans’ struggle to rebuild.” — John DeFore
“King Corn” “At one point you think Ian and Curt are going to burn down their acre — but they’re too sensible to be radicals, and the movie, a complex take on an American staple (or sweetener), is better for it.” — Asher Price
“Confessions of a Superhero” “Gleaming still photos and artful interviews augment the rich scenes Ogens captures on the street and, sometimes, movingly, in these somewhat troubled characters’ minds.” — Chris Garcia
“Last Days of Left Eye” “You won’t find a more honest title at the festival: This documentary follows TLC rapper Lisa “Left Eye” Lopes right up until the moments before her death in a 2002 car crash.” — John DeFore
Personally, I would add: “Manufacturing Dissent” and “What Would Jesus Buy.”
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Out at SXSW Blog No. 6
Movies: Statesman movie critic Chris Garcia got it right.
He recommended seeing mostly docs at the SXSW Film Festival, rather than feature-length fiction.
Last night, I attended yet another sizzling world premiere, this time of “What Would Jesus Buy?” Presented by “Super Size Me” director Morgan Spurlock, this brightly entertaining documentary (yes, in the tradition of Michael Moore), follows around the Rev. Billy and his No Shopping Church Choir.
Rev. Billy
The reverend tours the country preaching against consumerism, while the choir chimes in with clever anti-shopping songs. It’s something of a comedy routine, but the group is serious about helping Americans out of their shopping addictions, especially at Christmastime.
Billy’s confrontations with police and security guards, as the group protests at various shrines of consumerism, especially Disneyland, give the doc jolts of energy, but the really devastating material includes statistics on shopping and portraits of families spending their way into massive debt in order to feed their children’s advertising-driven fantasies.
Along with “Manufacturing Dissent,” this might be the breakout film of the festival.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Out at SXSW Blog 5
Digital Live report from the SXSW Web Awards, whose emcee and winners were actually quite witty and self-deprecating.
Amusement: Exopolis Valentine’s Day Mixtape
Art: Smithsonian Photography Initiative
Blog: Twitter
Business for Profit Resn 2B2
Business: Green/Non-Profit: OwnYourC
CSS: The Horizonal Way
Classic: Computerlove.
Community: Squidoo
Educational Resource: Vitamin
Experimental:The Fallen Alternate Reality Game
Film/TV:TimeTrumpet
Motion Graphics:Hungry Suitcase
Music:Just for the F of It
Personal Portfolio: Jonathan Yuen
Music:Just for the F of It
Student: How Do I Say This
Technical Achievement: Stikkit
People’s Choice: Social Saga
Best of Show: OwnYourC
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Out at SXSW Blog 4
Digital: It’s so easy to meet people at SXSW.
Just left a Microsoft-sponsored party, where I talked at length to Wright, an engineer who moved his family to Austin almost sight unseen from South Carolina, and to Emily Cicchini, the playwright who now runs some Web operations at the University of Texas, as well as other introverts like myself eager to chat over vittles.
Last night, I met filmmakers. Yes, people network for a career purpose, but something about Austin makes the promotional aspect of socializing less intense and obnoxious. (That’s really the defining quality of the city: The way people treat each other.)
I’m off to the Web Awards, then to a movie at the Paramount Theatre. Before I go, a note about the easy accessibility of WiFi all over downtown. Last week in Manhattan, WiFi was blocked for commercial purposes. Here, it’s like water - not always free, but free-flowing.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Out at SXSW Blog 3
Movies: Let me correct an earlier post: “Manufacturing Dissent,” the doc that premiered at SXSW tonight, is not anti-Moore. In fact, its Canadian makers started their venture as Moore fans.
But the harder they looked at the incredibly successful “documentary” maker, the worse and worse he came off.
Much of Moore’s inaccuracies, exaggerations and creative editing has been exposed before. In fact, there’s a minor industry of right-wingers seeking to discredit the maker of “Roger & Me,” “Bowling for Columbine” and “Farhenheit 911.”
In this case, it’s his admirers who find out how much of a manipulative megalomaniac, a completely dishonest filmmaker and hypocritical ideologue he appears to be.
He even had two interviews with GM’s Roger Smith, which he left out of “Roger & Me,” which is entirely predicated on Smith never meeting with him. To top it off, Moore won’t meet with the makers of this documentary. The irony just drips off the screen.
“Manufacturing Dissent” is a modest, slowly developing film without the fireworks of Moore’s work, but it persuaded me never to trust the man again.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Out at SXSW Blog 2
Movies: Except for moments of abrupt and inexplicable humor, slasher films tend to be as boring and formulaic as the pornography they so closely resemble, with murder standing in for copulation.
Robert Rodriguez, whose “Grindhouse,” shared with Quentin Tarantino, opens to much hype in April, introduced two Italian samples of the grindhouse genre: “Torso,” which I unfortunately saw, and “Zombie,” which I unfortunately did not. (Really wanted to catch that zombie wrestling a live shark.)
RR
The scene in Republic Square park, courtesy of Alamo Drafthouse, SXSW and AMD Live, resembled any other outdoor entertainment on a gentle night, but this one included mammoth, frequently exposed breasts and a plodding slasher plot that actually resembled a real Italian serial killer’s story (I think I read about it recently in Harper’s or The Atlantic).
Anyway, I understand that the consumption of these movies is akin to savoring camp, and I can appreciate that sensibility in my teeth. But actually, I prefer it when the filmmakers go completely over the top, as in “Beyond the Valley of the Dolls,” which holds up for culture-defining outrageousness.
Right now, I’m sipping a cool martini (it’s OK, I’m not really on the clock) on the Stephen F. terrace overlooking Congress Avenue. The city is stuffed with festivalgoers, and the music component hasn’t even begun. And what a gorgeous time of year (as opposed to the killer heat that spoils the otherwise essential Austin City Limits Festival).
Next up: “Manufacturing Dissent,” the anti-Michael Moore documentary that’s stirred the promotional pot at SXSW, thanks mainly to John Pierson’s UT class, which has taken it on as a guerilla marketing project. I understand they are setting up shop in the Paramount Theatre lobby next door.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Out SXSW Blog 1
Digital: My first platinum badge. My first time lost in the maze of the Austin Convention Center.
My first blog posted from the upper west balcony of the center, looking out over the beige-and-tan buildings, the sun beginning to set over the green hills, which seem to rise at the end of Second Street.
Lots of firsts. But no panels or films yet, because I spent the afternoon in the newsroom, editing next week’s SXSW material.
Several things pleased right away: The young woman behind the registration desk said: “I read your blog every day!” She may say that to everyone, but it made me feel welcome.
Then I ran into Gregory Kallenberg, formerly of the American-Statesman (“Party Crasher”), now branding and imagineering for Schlosser Development and Whole Foods. Still as sharp as ever. Still a player, but not a brash kid anymore.
As for the seething mass of (mostly young, mostly nerdy) humanity at the Convention Center, I’m in my element: Mostly other introverts trying very hard to finesse sociability.
Over the next few days, I’ll post often from all three SXSW events.
Did I say I love this town?
Permalink | Comments (1) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Texas Film Hall of Fame photo blog
Celebs: You can read my report on the Texas Film Hall of Fame, or you can just look at glammy pictures I took before the ceremony began.
The ever handsome Eddie Safady, co-chair of the event
The gracious Betty Buckley
Glamour personified, Carla McDonald, co-chair of last year’s party
Austin film Prometheus, Richard Linklater
Movie-star gorgeous Anne Elizabeth Wynn
Actor Bill Paxton and family
Kevin (ME Television) and Melissa Connor
The regal Phyllis George
The man who should blog the most, Stephen Moser
The jaunty Robert Rodriguez
Saving the most glamourous for last, Ann-Margret
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
New York report
Theater: While in the big city for a “special journalism assignment” (more on that later), I caught four Broadway shows. I know, I know, all of them are musicals, but I’m headed back up to NYC in early May, when I’ll branch out, including, hopefully, for some Austin-bred nonmusical productions.
“Company” Director John Doyle proves that his concept for last season’s “Sweeney Todd” — bare stage, direct audience address, actors playing intruments — was no mere novelty. Here, he takes George Furth’s and Stephen Sondheim’s 1970 musical about an urban bachelor and his married friends, then turns it into something completely different.
One central aspect of musical theater demands that performers come to the audience, they reach out through their presences to let us know everything is really OK — and it’s OK to watch. Doyle, on the other hand, especially with star Raul Esparza, encourages his actors to hold back, to drain their faces of emotion, to under-sing, under-act.
At first. Then, when the big numbers come, they erupt in ways that make the music and lyrics all the more profound and lascerating. Why did no one think of this before?
“Grey Gardens” This musical, gloriously, is all about star Christine Ebersole, and, to a lesser degree, co-star Mary Louise Wilson. Ebersole so closely impersonates the adult “Little Edie” from the documentary by the same name, it’s spooky. Add to that her poisonous young “Edith” in the first act, and you have a bravura performance not often matched.
The story about the mom-and-daughter holed up in a crumbling East Hampton mansion was not a natural for a musical. (Maybe an opera?) But it works, if only really in the second act.
“Spring Awakening” We trust XL reviewer Tommy O’Malley’s opinion explictly and implicitly. When he urged us to see this adaptation of the Frank Wedekind play, there was no hesitation. And he was right: It’s fresh, candid and splendidly preformed by a young cast of unknowns.
Yet I must differ with Tommy on one point: It’s a lot like “Rent” (his first favorite musical). Check the urban/sculptural settings, the visible band, the show-tune rock score, the torrents of adolescent angst (this time enacted by actual adolescents). It’s “Rent 2,” dude.
“Curtains” What a joy to stumble on the previews of this Kander and Ebb show that feels lifted from Broadway’s Silver Age in the 1960s. A stagestruck Boston detective (David Hyde Pierce), investigating the murder of a musical star, locks the cast and crew in the theater, then makes the clunker into a hit overnight.
Yes, a bit of “Bullets Over Broadway,” but the score is sweet (if not memorable) and the cast overcomes a few preview-related bumps to paint smiles on all our faces. The show probably won’t survive the critics when it opens later this month (too old-fashioned), but that’s OK. I’ve seen it and will cherish the memory.
Opera: For our operatic friends out there, what I probably should have said is that Placido Domingo can no longer sustain the biggest roles, i.e. Tristan, etc., on stage. No disrespect intended. But we did enjoy the nastiness of your comments.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Back from the blackout
Travel: Why the blog blackout for the past 4 days?
I’ve been in New York City on a special mission, and the superb hotel where I’m staying can’t provide reliable WiFi in the room.
Ah well. When the NYC papers say it’s “very cold,” they mean it. Highs in the 20s. Wind as cutting as a Calphalon knife. Snow flurries.
Meanwhile, I understand spring has sprung back in Austin.
Soon I’ll report on the entertainment aspects of my stay, short reviews of “Company,” “Spring Awakening,” “Grey Gardens” and, I hope, “The Year of Magical Thinking.”
Also reports on the Hayden Planetarium and various bistros up and midtown.
While you wait, entertain yourselves with the waspish responses of opera fans to my Domingo remarks, located in the commentary box. Love ‘em.
(And sorry for not publishing them earlier. Same excuse as above.)
Permalink | |
‘Mambo Italiano’ makes out
Theater: Our friend Paul watches every independent gay movie — no matter how dreadful — because, well, we didn’t have a shot at gay-themed movies when were growing up, and now that they are made regularly for a gay audience, shouldn’t we see them?
One of the better recent samples was “Mambo Italiano,” which benefited from a sharper-than-usual script about — what else? — a TV sitcom writer, his policeman lover and their loud, argumentative Italian families. Paul Sorvino provided gravitas as the protagonist’s father.
Errich Petersen, left, and Caleb Straus.
As Paul feels about gay movies, I feel about gay theater. We should go.
So I attended Naughty Austin’s stage version of “Mambo Italiano” at Arts on Real. Steve Galluccio’s script wavers between cliché and insight, but director Blake Yelavich kept it mostly light and mostly sweet.
As the couple in question, Errich Petersen, already accomplished in comic roles, shows his well-tempered serious side, while Caleb Straus, a natural actor, channels Marlon Brando. Their connection was so strong and so believable, I had a hard time swallowing the denouement.
And then there’s Breanna Stogner, who, like another Austin actor, Lee Eddy, could win her own sitcom someday. As the protagonist’s twin sister, her every twitch or turn or whisper or scream proved funny, yet was still grounded in a consistent character.
It’s not high art, for those wondering, but I’m so glad Naughty Austin doesn’t care. After so many years of silence, we need our gay theater.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Placido Domingo in SA!
Opera: Opera superstar Placido Domingo will make a rare Texas stop at San Antonio’s Alamodome June 19, as part of San Antonio Opera’s increasingly ambitious seasons.
Tickets for the Spanish tenor’s arena show will go on sale to the general public on March 26 and range from $25 to $250. Call (210) 224-9600 for tickets.
Domingo can no longer sustain the big roles, but should be robust in concert.
Recall when Austin Lyric Opera collaborated with tour promoters to bring Luciano Pavarotti to the Erwin Center? It was a huge boost for the still-fledgling organization.
The remainder of SA Opera’s season is tamer — “Tosca,” “La Boheme,” “Elixir of Love” — but still respectable.
Permalink | Comments (5) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Longhorns march on
Sports: Four freshmen and a sophomore. Four freshmen and a sophomore.
One must repeat this over and over, like a mantra, while watching the Longhorn starters perform better than almost any other team, seasoned or otherwise, UT has fielded at the Erwin Center.
Last night, into two overtimes — one fewer than the equally thrilling Oklahoma State game — the fans were almost as exhausted and exhilarated as the players.
Damion James
Beating the Aggies, the No. 7 team in the country 98-96, before a full house helped. If only the rest of the team could play up to the standards of Damion James, DJ Augustin, AJ Abrams and, especially, Kevin Durant, well, we’d be talkin’ Final Four.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
