Arts & Culture

Arts & Culture

Move freely

Michael Redmond
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Move freely

arts@sfbg.com

Was Kunst-Stoff’s 15th anniversary concert this past weekend its last show in town? Perhaps, perhaps not. Yannis Adoniou, who founded the company with Tomi Paasonen, chooses his words carefully a couple of days before the shows. He acknowledges talking with local presenters about maybe “having an annual season here” and about “stabilizing our presence here.”

But for the time being, Kunst-Stoff is gone. The questions are “why?” and “why now?” In some ways, Adoniou has become a victim of his own success. He, together with La Alternativa and the Off Center, has run a successful studio space — the envy of many a struggling company — which has become what he calls a “sanctuary.” Besides classes and workshops the place has offered performance opportunities, not just for local artists but also for dancers from abroad like Anthony Rizzi and Constantine Baecher. “These conversations have been fantastic,” Adoniou says. “I could stay here as institutionalized Kunst-Stoff, but that’s what not what I am supposed to be doing. I have not done a major work in a theater for a long time because I have wanted to be available [to the artists working here].”

Adoniou, a ballet dancer originally from Greece, came to the Bay Area in 1993 after having seen Alonzo King set Without Wax on the Frankfurt Ballet. What impressed him was the equality between the sexes in King’s work. “I wanted to dance,” he remembers, and he knew that most ballet repertoire (at the time) reduced the male dancer to support the ballerina. He also liked that the Bay Area “does not have institutionalized names and technique as there are in New York and Europe.” So this was a good place for him as a young artist — but like many others, he finds it “very, very hard” to get support once you have developed beyond a certain level. So back to Europe it is, where he feels he can take his own work where it needs to go.

The easy riding 98-13, the second of the three pieces which formed the 15th anniversary retrospective, offered a good overview of Adoniou’s perspective on dance. He has long passed the restrictions of his ballet training not be rejecting but by transcending it. Some of 98-13’s individual moments did ring a bell — Repetika, Less Sylphides, the moment you stood — but for the most part they toppled over each other as if spilled from a bag of toys. This was an affectionate, lighthearted look at the past.

The fun was in seeing the dancers take shape. Leyya Tawil resembled a huge bird on the tip of her toes. Daiane Lopes da Silva is a fierce mover but also a comedian. Katie Gaydos told us that giving birth is no more difficult than doing a rond de jambe en l’aire. I’ll take her word for it. Parker Murphy, as the only male, of course got to lift some obstreperous females. In the end, Adoniou, in a business suit, offered an intricate, determined walking combination that included a lovely arabesque. Maybe he was taking measure of what has passed, or perhaps of what lies ahead.

If 98-13 was full of surprises, the trajectory for the opening Solo for Yannis could be foreseen. Strongly danced by Lopes da Silva with the assistance of Widon Yang, Ivo Serra, and Tomi Paasonen, the piece posed questions about navigating unstable ground if you have no point of reference. Blinded by a hooded garment, she rolled, stretched, and recoiled on a rug that kept being yanked away, her fingers becoming antennas, her head sniffing the air. Precarious for the men and the dancer, Solo derived its interest from the tiny shifts of give and take, limitations set and rejected. The moral of this story? Keep going even if you end up being naked, vulnerable, and alone.

Paasonen’s ironically named Those Golden Years may have been inspired by a dream about his mother but it also threw a mirror at Adoniou. The work opened with composer Yuko Matsyama, a flower garden in motion, carefully tracing a path along the edge of a mound of what turned out to be crumpled sheets of gold and silver Mylar. Her rhythmically intriguing score, which included a narration by Paasonen, set the tone for what became a seductive, but also touching visual feast.

Predictably, Adoniou emerged from this heap of plastic — one limb at a time. Yet Golden’s airy, glittering artifice contrasted seductively with the solidity and warmth of the human body. The dancer smashed, admired, hugged, and hid in it. He donned it as a fairy prince’s garment but also as a garbage bag. Eventually he too was left naked — even deprived of his manhood. *

 

The horror

Michael Redmond
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The horror

arts@sfbg.com

THEATER Just last night a cordial campfire conversation with a hobgoblin and a menorah tumbled precipitously from the obscenity of rents in the city to the cold hard facts of our existence on this planet. Halloween was not yet over, and the really scary stuff had already returned.

You don’t have to be a librarian to have gathered something of the unlikeness, the arbitrariness, the inconsequence of an individual life measured against the eons of time and the vastness of space — but let’s say you are a librarian. What would get under your skin more than this? Maybe one thing: the fact that in addition to the obvious indifference of the universe, existence comes with the seemingly unnecessary cruelty visited on us by our fellow human beings.

Maybe one more thing, too: a library book returned 113 years overdue.

Both of these unpalatable situations gnaw at the bookish protagonist in Glen Berger’s 2001 play, Underneath the Lintel, currently enjoying a revival courtesy of American Conservatory Theater. Our protagonist, the play’s sole character, is a garrulous but faintly troubled librarian from Holland (played by an endearingly geeky David Strathairn, in trim graying beard and neat but comfy wool suit). In a makeshift lecture in an old rented theater, the librarian-turned-sleuth presents his remarkable findings concerning the possible reality behind an ancient myth. Along the way, we discover a gradual dovetailing of his own increasingly unmoored career and that of his subject: the fabled Wandering Jew, condemned to bear silent witness to history after a show of callousness before a desperate stranger at his door (who turned out to be Christ on the march to Golgotha, wouldn’t you know it).

The play — whose title refers to the upper portion of a doorway, the regretful place from which an ancient cobbler turned his back on his fellow man and our modern-day librarian dismissed the only woman he ever loved — works a tension between competing frameworks. Bounded by our little lives with their precious but small concerns, the play suggests, we too easily miss the bigger picture and stumble accordingly. But even when confronted with the worst of fate, the baleful immensity of history, or our own actions, we also carry on despite all the universe may throw at us.

Of course, the Geary stage is almost as vast as the aforementioned universe. Director Carey Perloff and her actor work hard to see this pocket-sized piece expand as much as possible to fill it. Strathairn’s fastidious and childlike librarian moves nervously, enthusiastically around the stage, scaling a tall freestanding ladder one moment, rummaging around a set of files the next, or stalking the second-tier storage area at the back of scenic designer Nina Ball’s atmospherically dingy, drippy, haze-filled bric-a-brac set.

The only time this nervous energy seems to go too far is in the final moment, when the librarian exits the stage in an awkward physical underscoring of a key line, wandering out who-knows-where. But Berger’s charming mystery, while ultimately affirming, has a haunted, melancholy streak running through it — a creeping pessimism at the edge of the firelight that is its most provoking aspect, and saves it from being purely sentimental.

 

ONCE UPON A WEEKNIGHT DREARY: ‘GRAND GUIGNOL’

The father of Paris’s Théâtre du Grand Guignol, French playwright Oscar Méténier (1859–1913), rests in pieces — or at least the pieces he left for the stage; naturalistic horror plays that were themselves full of body parts strewn hither and thither. Thither, in this case, has been renamed “the splatter zone” for playwright Carl Grose and director Mitchell Altieri’s macabre comedy homage to the legendary Parisian theater and genre (a specialty of local company Thrillpeddlers, whose own “Shocktoberfest” is also up and running not far away).

But though audiences in the first rows sit dutifully in plastic rain ponchos, the gore and the titillation and the laughs are surprisingly spare. Grand Guignol‘s opening night, moreover, was a rocky horror show, to say the least, plagued by delays, poor acoustics, slippery pacing, slightly inept execution (of executions, and other bloody deeds), and a storyline almost as mangled as the bodies it left in its wake. It has a game cast, however, and while variously successful at projecting their voices above the atmospheric sound design, its members deliver some nicely tailored performances under the circumstances, which are messy in ways intended and otherwise. *

UNDERNEATH THE LINTEL

Extended through Nov 23

Tue-Sat, 8pm (check website for matinees); Sun, 2pm, $20-150

Geary Theater

415 Geary, SF

www.act-sf.org

Theater Listings: November 6 – 12, 2013

Michael Redmond
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0

Stage listings are compiled by Guardian staff. Performance times may change; call venues to confirm. Reviewers are Robert Avila, Rita Felciano, and Nicole Gluckstern. Submit items for the listings at listings@sfbg.com.

THEATER

OPENING

Emmett Till: A River NOH Space in Project Artaud, 2840 Mariposa, SF; www. theatreofyugen.org. $20-30. Opens Thu/7, 8pm. Runs Thu-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2pm. Through Nov 17. Theatre of Yugen presents a world premiere by Kevin Simmonds and Judy Halebsky; it uses classical Japanese Noh drama to tell the story of civil rights-era murder victim Emmett Till.

The Gershwins’ Porgy and Bess Golden Gate Theatre, One Taylor, SF; www.shnsf.com. $60-210. Opens Sun/10, 2pm. Runs Tue-Sat, 8pm (no show Nov 28; check website for matinee schedule); Sun, 2pm. Through Dec 8. The Tony-winning Broadway revival launches its national tour in San Francisco.

My Beautiful Launderette New Conservatory Theatre Center, 25 Van Ness, SF; www.nctcsf.org. $25-45. Opens

Fri/8, 8pm. Runs Wed-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2pm. Through Dec 22. New Conservatory Theatre Center performs Andy Gram and Roger Parsley’s adaptation of Hanif Kureishi’s award-winning screenplay.

The Rita Hayworth of this Generation Garage, 715 Bryant, SF; www.715bryant.org. $10-15. Opens Wed/6, 8pm. Runs Wed-Thu, 8pm. Through Nov 21. Tina D’Elia performs her multi-character solo play.

BAY AREA

A Bright New Boise Aurora Theatre, 2081 Addison, Berk; www.auroratheatre.org. $32-50. Previews Fri/8-Sat/9 and Nov 13, 8pm; Sun/10, 2pm; Tue/12, 7pm. Opens Nov 14, 8pm. Runs Tue, 7pm; Wed-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2 and 7pm. Through Dec 8. Aurora Theatre presents Samuel D. Hunter’s tale of an ex-Evangelical cult member attempting to bond with his estranged son before the end of the world.

ONGOING

The Barbary Coast Revue Stud Bar, 399 Ninth St, SF; eventbrite.com/org/4730361353. $10-40. Wed, 9pm (no show Nov 27). Through Dec 18. Blake Wiers’ new “live history musical experience” features Mark Twain as a tour guide through San Francisco’s wild past.

Bengal Tiger at the Bagdad Zoo SF Playhouse, 450 Post, SF; www.sfplayhouse.org. $30-100. Tue-Thu, 7pm; Fri-Sat, 8pm (also Sat, 3pm). Through Nov 16. In Rajiv Joseph’s Pulitzer-nominated Bengal Tiger at the Bagdad Zoo, the dead quickly outnumber the living, and soon the stage is littered with monologist ghosts lost in transition. In Joseph’s world, at least, death is but another phase of consciousness, a plane of existence where a man-eating tiger might experience a crisis of conscience, and a brash young soldier with a learning disability might suddenly find himself contemplating algebraic equations and speaking Arabic — knowledge that had eluded his comprehension in life. Will Marchetti’s portrayal of the titular tiger is on the static side, though his wry intelligence and philosophical awakening comes as a welcome contrast to the willfully obtuse world view of the American soldiers (Gabriel Marin and Craig Marker) guarding him. But it’s Musa (Kuros Charney), a translator for the Americans and a former gardener and topiary “artist,” who eventually emerges as the play’s most fully realized character and also the most tragic, becoming that which he dreads the most, a beast in a lawless land, egged on by the ghost of his former employer, the notoriously sadistic Uday Hussein (Pomme Koch). At times, director Bill English’s staging feels too understated and contained for a play that’s so muscular and expansive (an understatement not carried over into Steven Klems’ appropriately jarring sound design) focused less on its metaphysical implications than on its mundane surface, but however imperfect the production and daunting the script, it remains a fascinating response to an unwinnable war — the war against our own animal natures. (Gluckstern)

BoomerAging: From LSD to OMG Marsh San Francisco, 1062 Valencia, SF; www.themarsh.org. $15-50. Tue, 8pm. Extended through Dec 17. Will Durst’s hit solo show looks at baby boomers grappling with life in the 21st century.

Dirty Little Showtunes New Conservatory Theatre Center, 25 Van Ness, SF; www.nctcsf.org. $25-45. Wed/6-Sat/9, 8pm; Sun/10, 2pm. Lyricist-performer Tom Orr and director F. Allen Sawyer’s sassy but loving remix of iconic Broadway songs returns in another iteration, this one at the New Conservatory Theatre Center, complete with a willing and able cast of five (Rotimi Agbabiaka, David Bicha, Jesse Cortez, Randy Noak, Orr), piano accompaniment by musical director Scrumbly Koldewyn, and some rudimentary if evocative choreography by Jayne Zaban. Truly silly, sometimes inspired, the show mixes favorite parodies from past productions with some new ones. Orr’s wit shines throughout, even if it does not necessarily outshine every borrowed theme. Gilbert and Sullivan, for example, are hardly upstaged as much as celebrated with Bicha belting out, “I Am the Very Model of a Modern Homosexual.” More sentimental numbers about T cell counts or gay marriage, while an understandable part of the landscape of gay life explored here, can feel a little strained in the context of the generally ribald. But the high-spirited nature of this whimsical show makes pardonable even the less-dirty parts. (Avila)

Driving Miss Daisy Buriel Clay Theater at the African American Art and Culture Complex, 762 Fulton, SF; www.african-americanshakes.org. $12.50-37.50. Fri-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 3pm. Through Nov 17. African-American Shakespeare Company performs Alfred Uhry’s Pulitzer-winning drama.

Foodies! The Musical Shelton Theater, 533 Sutter, SF; www.foodiesthemusical.com. $32-34. Fri-Sat, 8pm. Open-ended. AWAT Productions presents Morris Bobrow’s musical comedy revue all about food.

Gruesome Playground Injuries Tides Theatre, 533 Sutter, SF; www.tidestheatre.org. $20-40. Wed/6-Sat/9, 8pm. Tides Theatre performs Rajiv Joseph’s drama about two people who first meet as eight-year-olds in the school nurse’s office.

Hedwig and the Angry Inch Boxcar Theatre, 505 Natoma, SF; www.boxcartheatre.org. $27-43. Thu-Sat, 8pm. Open-ended. John Cameron Mitchell’s cult musical comes to life with director Nick A. Olivero’s ever-rotating cast.

I Married an Angel Eureka Theatre, 215 Jackson, SF; www.42ndstmoon.org. $25-75. Wed-Thu, 7pm; Fri, 8pm; Sat, 6pm (also Sat/9, 1pm), Sun, 3pm. Through Nov 17. 42nd Street Moon performs the Rodgers and Hart classic.

The Jewelry Box: A Genuine Christmas Story The Marsh San Francisco, 1062 Valencia, SF; www.themarsh.org. $15-40. Fri, 8pm; Sat, 5pm. Through Dec 28. Brian Copeland performs the world premiere of his new, holiday-themed work, an Oakland-set autobiographical tale that’s a prequel to his popular Not a Genuine Black Man.

The Life Machine DanzHaus, 1275 Connecticut, SF; www.faultlinetheater.com. $15-20. Fri/8-Sat/9, 8pm; Sun/10, 2pm. A naïve and restive young woman (Gwen Kingston), working as admin for a high-powered and ethically questionable business firm, marries her pig-headed and lecherous boss (Nick Medina) in a desperate bid to escape the drudgery of the work-a-day world. Instead, she finds her suffocating marriage and unwanted motherhood its own prison. An extramarital affair with a latter-day beatnik (Jon Oleson) gives her a first taste of life and freedom, for which she pays the ultimate price when things go south. Set in a palpably near future, this socially rich dystopic drama acknowledges several “reflective texts” as influences, including Donna Haraway’s “A Cyborg Manifesto” and (as evidenced in some of Maxx Kurzunshki and Clive Walker’s wide-ranging and remarkable video design) Godfrey Reggio and Philip Glass’s Koyaanisqatsi. But the piece remains in large part an astute revamping and updating of Sophie Treadwell’s Machinal. Director Cole Ferraiuolo’s inspired retooling of that 1928 expressionist stage classic proves a potent contemporary lens on the persistent anomie of the people, and growing enemies of the state, in a self-congratulatory high-tech and hyper-connected world. Sophie Needelman’s mercurial choreography for five dancers, meanwhile, evokes everything from the crush of the daily commute to the cyborg cogs of the post-industrial work world or the drift of the moon across a fathomless sky. At the heart of this worthwhile production from impressive newcomers FaultLine are a handful of strong and intelligent performances. These are led by Kingston’s dynamic, rigorously unsentimental performance as a tragically alienated every-woman, who must suffer any number of mundane indignities before her apotheosis as a deeply violent and repressed society’s convenient cipher. (Avila)

Lovebirds Marsh San Francisco, 1062 Valencia, SF; www.themarsh.org. $15-100. Thu/7-Fri/8, 8pm; Sat/9, 8:30pm. Workshop performances of Marga Gomez’s 10th solo show, about different characters seeking romance in the 1970s.

Peter and the Starcatcher Curran Theatre, 445 Geary, SF; www.shnsf.com. $40-160. Tue-Sat, 8pm (also Wed and Sat, 2pm; no show Nov 28); Sun, 2pm. Through Dec 1. Fanciful, Tony-winning prequel to Peter Pan.

Shakespeare Night at the Blackfriars (London Idol 1610) Phoenix Arts Association Annex Theatre, 414 Mason, SF; www.subshakes.com. $20-25. Fri-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 7pm. Through Nov 17. Subterranean Shakespeare performs George Crowe’s comedy about a playwriting contest between Ben Jonson, Thomas Middleton, Francis Beaumont, and the ghost of Christopher Marlowe.

“Shocktoberfest 14: Jack the Ripper” Hypnodrome, 575 10th St, SF; www.thrillpeddlers.com. $25-35. Thu-Sat, 8pm. Through Nov 23. It’s lucky 14 for the Thrillpeddlers’ annual Halloween-tide Shocktoberfest, and while there are few surprises in this year’s lineup, there’s plenty of reliable material to chew on. Opening with A Visit to Mrs. Birch and the Young Ladies of the Academy, a ribald Victorian-era “spanking drama,” the fare soon turns towards darker appetites with a joint Andre De Lorde-Pierre Chaine work, Jack the Ripper. Works by De Lorde — sometimes referred to as the “Prince of Fear” — have graced the Hypnodrome stage over the years, and this tense Victorian drama, though penned in the 30s, is suitably atmospheric. Although it becomes pretty evident early on who dunnit, it’s the why that lies at the heart of this grim drama, and in the course of that discovery, the play’s beleaguered lawmen reveal themselves to be no less ruthless than the titular Ripper (John Flaw) in pursuit of their quarry. Norman Macleod as Inspector Smithson particularly embodies this unwholesome dichotomy, and Bruna Palmeiro excels as his spirited yet doomed bait. Inspired by Oscar Wilde’s Salome, the Thrillpeddlers’ piece by the same name is perhaps the weak link in the program, despite being penned by the ever-clever Scrumbly Koldewyn, and danced with wanton abandon by Noah Haydon. Longtime Thrillpeddlers’ collaborator Rob Keefe ties together the evening’s disparate threads under one sprawling big top media circus of murder, sex, ghosts, and sensationalism with his somewhat tongue-in-cheek, San Francisco-centric The Wrong Ripper. (Gluckstern)

Sidewinders Exit on Taylor, 277 Taylor, SF; www.cuttingball.com. $10-50. Thu, 7:30pm; Fri-Sat, 8pm (also Sat, 2pm); Sun, 5pm. Through Nov 17. Cutting Ball opens its 15th season with the world premiere of Basil Kreimendahl’s absurdist romp through gender queerness. In a cartoonish, desolate wasteland (designed by Michael Locher), Dakota (Sara Moore), a bleached-blonde gunslinger in buckskin fringes, and Bailey (DavEnd), a possibly AWOL soldier rocking high-heeled boots and a single drop earring, wrestle with the conundrum of what to call their respective genitals. And more to the point, what to do with them after they figure it out. Or as Bailey bluntly puts it, “Who am I supposed to fuck?” But there’s more to being stranded in the uncharted wilderness at stake than “organ confusion,” and soon they must channel their uncommon alliance into finding a way back out. What they find instead include a regal figure of indeterminate gender possessed of extra limbs (Donald Currie), a suicidal servant with surgical skills (Norman Muñoz), and a growing realization that wilderness, like identity, is relative. Moore and DavEnd make a good comedic team, their endless banter, circular logic and exaggerated facial gymnastics giving them the philosophical gravitas of a Looney Tunes episode, while Currie’s turn as mutated muse is unexpectedly moving. Recent winner of the prestigious Rella Lossy award, this intriguing world premiere marks playwright Basil Kreimendahl’s first professional production, though it seems safe to say that it won’t be the last. (Gluckstern)

BAY AREA

Can You Dig It? Back Down East 14th — the 60s and Beyond Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston, Berk; www.themarsh.org. $15-50. Sat, 8:30pm; Sun, 7pm. Extended through Dec 15. Don Reed’s new show offers more stories from his colorful upbringing in East Oakland in the 1960s and ’70s. More hilarious and heartfelt depictions of his exceptional parents, independent siblings, and his mostly African American but ethnically mixed working-class community — punctuated with period pop, Motown, and funk classics, to which Reed shimmies and spins with effortless grace. And of course there’s more too of the expert physical comedy and charm that made long-running hits of Reed’s last two solo shows, East 14th and The Kipling Hotel (both launched, like this newest, at the Marsh). Can You Dig It? reaches, for the most part, into the “early” early years, Reed’s grammar-school days, before the events depicted in East 14th or Kipling Hotel came to pass. But in nearly two hours of material, not all of it of equal value or impact, there’s inevitably some overlap and indeed some recycling. Reed, who also directs the show, may start whittling it down as the run continues. But, as is, there are at least 20 unnecessary minutes diluting the overall impact of the piece, which is thin on plot already — much more a series of often very enjoyable vignettes and some painful but largely unexplored observations, wrapped up at the end in a sentimental moral that, while sincere, feels rushed and inadequate. (Avila)

Don’t Dress For Dinner Center REPertory Company, 1601 Civic, Walnut Creek; www.centerrep.org. $33-52. Wed, 7:30pm; Thu-Sat, 8pm (also Nov 23, 2:30pm); Sun, 2:30pm. Through Nov 23. Center REP performs Marc Camoletti’s sequel to his classic farce Boeing-Boeing.

A King’s Legacy Pear Avenue Theatre, 1220 Pear, Mtn View; www.thepear.org. $10-35. Thu-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2pm. Through Nov 24. Pear Avenue Theatre performs Elyce Melmon’s world premiere, a drama about King James VI of Scotland.

A Little Princess Julia Morgan Theater, 2640 College, Berk; www.berkeleyplayhouse.org. $17-60. Thu-Fri, 7pm (Nov 28, shows at 1 and 6pm); Sat, 1 and 6pm; Sun, noon and 5pm (no 5pm show Dec 1). Through Dec 8. Berkeley Playhouse opens its sixth season with Brian Crawley and Andrew Lippa’s musical adaptation of the Frances Hodgson Burnett story.

Metamorphoses South Berkeley Community Church, 1802 Fairview, Berk; www.infernotheatre.org. $10-25. Thu and Sat-Sun, 8pm; Fri, 9pm (no show Sat/9). Through Nov 23. Additional performance Sat/9, 8pm, $5-20, Laney College, 900 Fallon, Oakl. Inferno Theatre performs a multimedia, contemporary adaptation of Ovid’s classic.

The Pianist of Willesden Lane Berkeley Repertory Theatre, Thrust Theatre, 2015 Addison, Berk; www.berkeleyrep.org. $29-89. Tue and Thu-Sat, 8pm (also Thu/7, Dec 5, and Sat, 2pm; no matinee Sat/9; no show Nov 28); Wed and Sun, 7pm (also Sun, 2pm). Through Dec 8. Mona Golabek stars in this solo performance inspired by her mother, a Jewish pianist whose dreams and life were threatened by the Nazi regime.

Red Virgin, Louise Michel and the Paris Commune of 1871 Berkeley City Club, 2315 Durant, Berk; www.centralworks.org. $15-28. Thu-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 5pm. Through Nov 24. Central Works presents a new play (with live music) by Gary Graves about the Paris Commune uprising.

Social Security Muriel Watkin Gallery, 1050 Crespi Drive, Pacifica; (650) 359-8002. $10-25. Fri-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2pm. Through Nov 24. Pacifica Spindrift Players performs Andrew Bergman’s classic comedy.

strangers, babies Ashby Stage, 1901 Ashby, Berk; www.shotgunplayers.org. $20-35. Wed-Thu, 7pm; Fri-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 5pm. Through Nov 17. Shotgun Players present Linda McLean’s drama about a woman confronting her past.

Swing Shift Onboard the SS Red Oak Victory, 1337 Canal, Berth 6A, Richmond; www.galateanplayers.com. $18-20. Fri/8-Sat/9, 8pm; Sun/10, 3pm. Galatean Players Ensemble Theatre perform Kathryn G. McCarty’s adaptation of Joseph Fabry’s novel, performed aboard a ship in the yards where Fabry once worked.

PERFORMANCE/DANCE

BATS Improv Bayfront Theater, B350 Fort Mason Center, SF; www.improv.org. $20. This week: “DuoProv Championship,” Fri, 8pm, through Nov 29; “Family Drama,” Sat, 8pm, through Nov 30.

“Best of the 2013 San Francisco Fringe Festival” Exit Studio, 156 Eddy, SF; www.theexit.org. Fri/8-Sat/9, 8pm. $15-25. This week: 53 Letters (“Best of” series continues through Nov. 23)

Jim Brickman Venetian Room, Fairmont San Francisco, 950 Mason, SF; www.bayareacabaret.org. Sun/10, 5pm (with David Burnham) and 8pm (solo). $48. Romantic piano sensation Brickman plays, joined at the earlier show by Broadway tenor David Burnham.

“Broadway Bingo” Feinstein’s at the Nikko, Hotel Nikko, 222 Mason, SF; www.feinsteinssf.com. Wed, 7-9pm. Ongoing. Free. Countess Katya Smirnoff-Skyy and Joe Wicht host this Broadway-flavored night of games and performance.

“Cabinet of Wonders” Jewish Community Center of SF, Kanbar Hall, 3200 California, SF; www.jccsf.org. Mon/11, 8pm. $30-40. Musician-author Wesley Stace curates and hosts this variety show, featuring Eugene Mirman, Alec Ounsworth, Dean & Britta, Bobcat Goldthwaite, and others.

“Comedy Returns to El Rio!” El Rio, 3158 Mission, SF; www.brownpapertickets.com. Mon/11, 8pm. $7-20. With Micia Mosely, David Hawkins, Sampson McCormick, Emily Epstein White, and Lisa Geduldig.

“Competitive Erotic Fan Fiction” Punchline, 444 Battery, SF; www.punchlinecomedyclub.com. Tue/12, 8pm. $15. Ten comics (Nato Green, Caitlin Gill, Sean Keane, and others) perform erotic fan fic.

CounterPULSE 1310 Mission, SF; www.counterpulse.org. This week: Instrument by Monique Jenkinson (aka Fauxnique), Fri/8, 8pm and Sat/9, 7pm, $20-30; “Beware the Band of Lions (They’re Dandy Lions),” with Bandelion, Sun/10 and Nov 17, 3pm, free (reservations required as space is extremely limited; to request an invitation, email info@dandeliondancetheater.org).

Flyaway Productions Joe Goode Annex, 401 Alabama, SF; www.flyawayproductions.com. Fri/8-Sat/9 and Nov 13-16, 7:30 and 9:30pm. $25. Choreographer Jo Kreiter and designer Sean Riley present the world premiere of Give a Woman a Lift.

“Hysterical Historical San Francisco, Holiday Edition” Shelton Theater, 533 Sutter, SF; www.sheltontheater.org. Sun, 7pm. Through Dec 29. $30-40. Comic Kurt Weitzman performs.

Roslyn Kind Feinstein’s at the Nikko, Hotel Nikko, 222 Mason, SF; www.feinsteinssf.com. Fri/8, 8pm; Sat/9, 7pm. $30-60 ($20 food and beverage minimum per person). The Broadway star performs.

Kunst-Stoff Dance Company ODC Theater, 3153 17th St, SF; www.kunst-stoff.org. Fri/8-Sat/9, 8pm; Sun/10, 7pm. $25-45. The company marks its 15th anniversary with retrospectives, contained in two different programs: recreated old works and new works inspired by repertory.

“Mission Position Live” Cinecave, 1034 Valencia, SF; www.missionpositionlive.com. Thu, 8pm. Ongoing. $10. Stand-up comedy with rotating performers.

“ODC/Dance Unplugged” ODC Dance Commons Studio B, 351 Shotwell, SF; www.odctheater.org. Fri/8, 7pm. $25. Get a unique, behind-the-scenes look at Triangulating Euclid, a new collaboration between Brenda Way, KT Nelson, and Kate Weare.

“Okeanos Intimate” Aquarium of the Bay, Pier 39, SF; www.capacitor.org. Sat, 4:30 and 7pm. $20-30 (free aquarium ticket with show ticket). Extended through Dec 28. Choreographer Jodi Lomask and her company, Capacitor, revive 2012’s Okeanos — a cirque-dance piece exploring the wonder and fragility of our innate connection to the world’s oceans — in a special “intimate” version designed for the mid-size theater at Pier 39’s Aquarium of the Bay. The show, developed in collaboration with scientists and engineers, comes preceded by a short talk by a guest expert — for a recent Saturday performance it was a down-to-earth and truly fascinating local ecological history lesson by the Bay Institute’s Marc Holmes. In addition to its Cirque du Soleil-like blend of quasi-representational modern dance and circus acrobatics — powered by a synth-heavy blend of atmospheric pop music — Okeanos makes use of some stunning underwater photography and an intermittent narrative that includes testimonials from the likes of marine biologist and filmmaker Dr. Tierney Thys. The performers, including contortionists, also interact with some original physical properties hanging from the flies — a swirling vortex and a spherical shell — as they wrap and warp their bodies in a kind of metamorphic homage to the capacity and resiliency of evolution, the varied ingenuity of all life forms. If the movement vocabulary can seem limited at times, and too derivative, the show also feels a little cramped on the Aquarium Theater stage, whose proscenium arrangement does the piece few favors aesthetically. Nevertheless, the family-oriented Okeanos Intimate spurs a conversation with the ocean that is nothing if not urgent. (Avila)

“Point Break Live!” DNA Lounge, 373 11th St, SF; www.dnalounge.com. Dec 6 and Jan 3, 7:30 and 11pm. $25-50. Interactive interpretation of Kathryn Bigelow’s 1991 classic. (Some tickets include meatball sandwiches!)

“San Francisco Magic Parlor” Chancellor Hotel Union Square, 433 Powell, SF; www.sfmagicparlor.com. Thu-Sat, 8pm. Ongoing. $40. Magic vignettes with conjurer and storyteller Walt Anthony.

“Solitude” Brava Theater Center, 2781 24th St, SF; www.brava.org. Thu/7-Sat/9, 8pm (also Sat/9, 3pm). $15-35. LA’s Latino Theater Company performs Evelina Fendandez’s critically acclaimed play about Chicaco life and culture.

“Upside-Downton Abbey” Palace of Fine Arts Theatre, 3301 Lyon, SF; www.lamplighters.org. Sun/10, 4pm (silent auction at 3pm). $35-97. Also Nov 24, 4pm, $58-83, Mountain View Center for the Performing Arts, 500 Castro, Mtn View; www.mvcpa.com. Lamplighters Musical Theatre’s annual gala performance spoofs the popular British soap opera.

“WERK! Performance Festival 2013” Dance Mission Theater, 3316 24th St, SF; www.werkcollective.org. Fri/8-Sun/10, 8pm (also Sun/10, 4pm). $20. Choreographers Alyce Finwall, Samantha Giron, Timothy Rubel, and Ashley Trottier share the weekend.

BAY AREA

Diablo Ballet Smith Center, Ohlone College, 43600 Mission, Fremont; www.diabloballet.org. Sat/9, 2 and 8pm. Also Nov 15-16, 8pm (also Nov 16, 2pm), Lesher Center for the Arts, 1601 Civic, Walnut Creek; www.lesherartscenter.org. $20-52. The company’s 20th season kicks off with Our Waltzes Trilogy and A Swingin’ Holiday.

“Dogugaeshi” Zellebach Playhouse, Dana at Bancroft, UC Berkeley, Berk; www.calperformances.org. Wed/6-Fri/8, 8:30pm (also Thu/7-Fri/8, 6pm); Sat/9-Sun/10, 2 and 7pm. $48-76. The latest from innovative puppeteer Basil Twist.

“Rapunzel” Marin Theatre Company, 397 Miller, Mill Valley; www.marintheatre.org. Sat/9-Sun/10, 10am and 12:30pm. $15-20. Marin Theatre Company performs a fairy-tale play for all ages. *

 

Film Listings: November 6 – 12, 2013

Michael Redmond
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Film listings are edited by Cheryl Eddy. Reviewers are Kimberly Chun, Dennis Harvey, Lynn Rapoport, Sam Stander, and Sara Maria Vizcarrondo. For rep house showtimes, see Rep Clock.

OPENING

Dallas Buyers Club See “Life’s Work.” (1:58) Embarcadero.

The Motel Life Brothers (Stephen Dorff, Emile Hirsch) go on the run after a tragic accident. Kris Kristofferson and Dakota Fanning co-star. (1:25) Roxie.

Running From Crazy Can one ever escape one’s toxic genetic legacy, especially when one’s makeup, and even one’s genius, is so entangled with mental illness, the shadow of substance abuse, and a kind of burden of history? Actor, author, healthy-living proponent, and now suicide prevention activist Mariel Hemingway seems cut out to try, as, eh, earnestly as she can, to offer up hope. Part of that involves opening the door to documentarian Barbara Kopple, in this look at the 20th century’s most infamous literary suicide, Mariel’s grandfather Ernest Hemingway, and just one of his familial threads, one full of lives cut deliberately short. For Running From Crazy, Kopple generally keeps the focus on Mariel, who displays all the disarming groundedness and humility of the youngest care-taking, “good” child. Her father, Ernest’s eldest son, Jack, regularly indulged in “wine time” with his ailing wife and, according to Mariel, had a pitch-black side of his own. But we don’t look to closely at him as the filmmaker favors the present, preferring to watch Mariel mountain climb and bicker with her stuntman boyfriend, meet up with her eldest sister Muffet, and ‘fess up about the depression that runs through the Hemingway line to her own daughters. Little is made of Mariel’s own artistic contributions in acting, though Kopple’s work is aided immeasurably by the footage Mariel’s rival middle sister Margaux shot for a documentary she planned to do on Ernest. Once the highest paid model in the world, Margaux leaves the viewer with a vivid impression of her brash, raw, eccentric, and endearingly goofy spirit — she’s courageous in her own way as she sips vino with her parents and older sister and tears up during a Spanish bull fight. Are these just first world problems for scions who never hesitated to trade on their name? Kopple is more interested in the humans behind the gloss of fame, spectacle and sensation — the women left in the wake of a literary patriarch’s monumental brand of masculinity and misogyny. And you feel like you get that here, plainly and honestly, in a way that even Papa might appreciate. (1:40) Opera Plaza, Smith Rafael. (Chun)

Spinning Plates Joseph Levy’s enjoyable documentary contrasts life at three widely disparate U.S. restaurants: the Martinez family’s modest enterprise La Cocina de Gabby, a Tucson showcase for a wife and mother’s Mexican cooking; Breitbach’s Country Dining in rural Iowa, a 151-year-old purveyor of all-American comfort food; and superstar chef Grant Achatz’s Chicago Alinea, where a 24-course meal of culinary art/science experiments can set you back $800 (yes, that’s for one diner). The latter is a global destination for serious foodies, acclaimed by the industry’s most prestigious observers. (Its nearly 24/7 supply deliveries are also a noisy nightmare for someone I know whose apartment is next door.) The teensy town that’s grown up around Breitbach’s has a population of 70; on a busy weekend, the business attracts up to 2,000, many driving long distances to get there. Yet the people we get to know the best here, the émigré Martinezes, illustrate another side of restaurant life — the side in which a majority of new eateries fail within three years, despite (as seemingly is the case at Gabby’s) all palate-pleasing, reasonable pricing and tireless labor. Tying together these three stories is … well, nothing, really, beyond some vague notion that good food is something that breeds “community.” (Yet high-ticket Alinea can hardly be said to reflect that, while Levy doesn’t actually bother interviewing any patrons to let us know whether the other two establishments’ food is anything special.) Still, and despite some rather bogus dramatic chronology-manipulation of events that happened several years ago, Spinning Plates is an entertaining sampler plate of a movie. And the Martinez family’s story lends it a bit of real gravitas. (1:32) Opera Plaza, Shattuck. (Harvey)

Thor: The Dark World The Avengers juggernaut rolls on as Thor (Chris Hemsworth) grabs his hammer for a stand-alone sequel. See review at www.sfbg.com. (2:00) Balboa, Presidio.

ONGOING

About Time Richard Curtis, the man behind 2003’s Love Actually, must be enjoying his days in England, rolling in large piles of money. Coinciding with the 10-year anniversary of that twee cinematic love fest comes Curtis’ latest ode to joy, About Time. The film begins in Cornwall at an idyllic stone beach house, as Tim (Domhnall Gleeson) describes his family members (Bill Nighy is dad; Richard Cordery is the crazy uncle) and their pleasures (rituals (tea on the beach, ping pong). Despite beachside bliss, Tim is lovelorn and ready to begin a career as a barrister (which feels as out of the blue as the coming first act break). Oh! And as it happens, the men in Tim’s family can travel back in time. There are no clear rules, though births and deaths are like no-trespass signs on the imaginary timeline. When he meets Mary (Rachel McAdams), he falls in love, but if he paves over his own evening by bouncing back and spending that night elsewhere, he loses the path he’s worn into the map and has to fix it. Again and again. Despite potential repetition, About Time moves smoothly, sweetly, slowly along, giving its audience time enough to feel for the characters, and then feel for the characters again, and then keep crying just because the ball’s already in motion. It’s the most nest-like catharsis any British film ever built. (2:03) Marina, SF Center, Shattuck, Sundance Kabuki. (Vizcarrondo)

All Is Lost As other reviewers have pointed out, All Is Lost‘s nearly dialogue-free script (OK, there is one really, really well-placed “Fuuuuuck!”) is about as far from J.C. Chandor’s Oscar-nominated script for 2011’s Margin Call as possible. Props to the filmmaker, then, for crafting as much pulse-pounding magic out of austerity as he did with that multi-character gabfest. Here, Robert Redford plays “Our Man,” a solo sailor whose race to survive begins along with the film, as his boat collides with a hunk of Indian Ocean detritus. Before long, he’s completely adrift, yet determined to outwit the forces of nature that seem intent on bringing him down. The 77-year-old Redford turns in a surprisingly physical performance that’s sure to be remembered as a late-career highlight. (1:46) Albany, SF Center, Sundance Kabuki. (Eddy)

Big Sur (1:21) 1000 Van Ness, Smith Rafael.

Blue is the Warmest Color The stars (Adèle Exarchopoulos and Léa Seydoux) say the director was brutal. The director says he wishes the film had never been released (but he might make a sequel). The graphic novelist is uncomfortable with the explicit 10-minute sex scene. And most of the state of Idaho will have to wait to see the film on Netflix. The noise of recrimination, the lesser murmur of backpedaling, and a difficult-to-argue NC-17 rating could make it harder, as French director Abdellatif Kechiche has predicted, to find a calm, neutral zone in which to watch Blue is the Warmest Color, his Palme d’Or–winning adaptation (with co-writer Ghalya Lacroix) of Julie Maroh’s 2010 graphic novel Le Blue Est une Couleur Chaude. But once you’ve committed to the three-hour runtime, it’s not too difficult to tune out all the extra noise and focus on a film that trains its mesmerized gaze on a young woman’s transforming experience of first love. (2:59) Embarcadero, Shattuck, Smith Rafael, Sundance Kabuki. (Rapoport)

Blue Jasmine The good news about Blue Jasmine isn’t that it’s set in San Francisco, but that it’s Woody Allen’s best movie in years. Although some familiar characteristics are duly present, it’s not quite like anything he’s done before, and carries its essentially dramatic weight more effectively than he’s managed in at least a couple decades. Not long ago Jasmine (a fearless Cate Blanchett) was the quintessential Manhattan hostess, but that glittering bubble has burst — exactly how revealed in flashbacks that spring surprises up to the script’s end. She crawls to the West Coast to “start over” in the sole place available where she won’t be mortified by the pity of erstwhile society friends. That would be the SF apartment of Ginger (Sally Hawkins), a fellow adoptive sister who was always looked down on by comparison to pretty, clever Jasmine. Theirs is an uneasy alliance — but Ginger’s too big-hearted to say no. It’s somewhat disappointing that Blue Jasmine doesn’t really do much with San Francisco. Really, the film could take place anywhere — although setting it in a non-picture-postcard SF does bolster the film’s unsettled, unpredictable air. Without being an outright villain, Jasmine is one of the least likable characters to carry a major US film since Noah Baumbach’s underrated Margot at the Wedding (2007); the general plot shell, moreover, is strongly redolent of A Streetcar Named Desire. But whatever inspiration Allen took from prior works, Blue Jasmine is still distinctively his own invention. It’s frequently funny in throwaway performance bits, yet disturbing, even devastating in cumulative impact. (1:38) Metreon, Opera Plaza, Shattuck, Vogue. (Harvey)

Captain Phillips In 2009, Captain Richard Phillips was taken hostage by Somali pirates who’d hijacked the Kenya-bound Maersk Alabama. His subsequent rescue by Navy SEALs came after a standoff that ended in the death of three pirates; a fourth, Abduwali Abdukhadir Muse, surrendered and is serving a hefty term in federal prison. A year later, Phillips penned a book about his ordeal, and Hollywood pounced. Tom Hanks is perfectly cast as Phillips, an everyman who runs a tight ship but displays an admirable ability to improvise under pressure — and, once rescued, finally allows that pressure to diffuse in a scene of memorably raw catharsis. Newcomer Barkhad Abdi, cast from an open call among Minneapolis’ large Somali community, plays Muse; his character development goes deep enough to emphasize that piracy is one of few grim career options for Somali youths. But the real star here is probably director Paul Greengrass, who adds this suspenseful high-seas tale to his slate of intelligent, doc-inspired thrillers (2006’s United 93, 2007’s The Bourne Ultimatum). Suffice to say fans of the reigning king of fast-paced, handheld-camera action will not be disappointed. (2:14) Four Star, 1000 Van Ness, Piedmont, SF Center, Sundance Kabuki. (Eddy)

Carrie Is the world ready for a candy-covered Carrie? It’s a sad state of affairs when the best thing about a movie, particularly a wholly superfluous remake like this, is its creepy poster. That’s the closest thing this Carrie has to offer next to that retina-scorching, iconic 1976 image of blood-saturated Sissy Spacek that continues to lend inspiration to baby Billiths everywhere. Nonetheless, like a shy violet cowering in the gym showers, this Carrie comes loaded with potential, with Boys Don’t Cry (1999) director Kimberly Peirce at the helm, the casting of Julianne Moore and Chloe Grace Moretz in the critical mother-daughter roles, and the unfortunately topical bullying theme. Peirce makes a half-hearted attempt to update the, um, franchise when the tormented Carrie (a miscast Moretz) is virally videoed by spoiled rival Chris (Portia Doubleday), but the filmmaker’s heart — and guts — aren’t in this pointless exercise. We speed through the buildup — which unconvincingly sets up Carrie’s torments at home, instigated by obviously mentally ill, Christian fundamentalist mom Margaret (Moore), and at school, where the PE teacher (Judy Greer) pep-talks Carrie and Sue Snell (Gabriella White) is mysteriously hellbent on paying penance for her bullying misdeeds — to the far-from-scary denouement. Let’s say mean-spirited reflexive revenge-taking is no real substitute for true horror and shock. Supposedly drawn to Carrie for its female-empowerment message, Peirce nevertheless isn’t cut out to wade into horror’s crimson waters — especially when one compares this weak rendition with Brian De Palma’s double-screen brio and high-camp Freudian passion play. (1:32) Metreon, 1000 Van Ness, Shattuck. (Chun)

Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs 2 (1:35) Metreon.

The Counselor The reviews are in, and it’s clear Ridley Scott has made the most polarizing film of the season. Most of The Counselor‘s detractors blame Cormac McCarthy’s screenplay, the acclaimed author’s first that isn’t drawn from a prexisting novel. To date, the best film made from a McCarthy tale is 2007’s No Country for Old Men, and The Counselor trawls in similar border-noir genre trappings in its tale of a sleek, greedy lawyer (Michael Fassbender) who gets in way over his head after a drug deal (entered into with slippery compadres played by Brad Pitt and Javier Bardem) goes wrong. Yes, there are some problems here, with very few unexpected twists in a downbeat story that’s laden with overlong monologues, most of them delivered by random characters that appear, talk, and are never seen again. But some of those speeches are doozies — and haters are overlooking The Counselor‘s sleazy pleasures (many of which are supplied by Cameron Diaz’s fierce, feline femme fatale) and attention to grimy detail. One suspects cult appreciation awaits. (1:57) Metreon, 1000 Van Ness, Sundance Kabuki. (Eddy)

Diana The final years of Diana, Princess of Wales are explored in what’s essentially a classed-up Lifetime drama, delving into the on-off romance between “the most famous woman in the world” (Naomi Watts) and heart surgeon Hasnat Khan (Naveen Andrews). Relationship roadblocks (his Muslim family, back home in Pakistan, is hesistant to accept a divorced, Christian Brit as their son’s partner) are further complicated by extraordinary circumstances (Diana’s fame, which leads to paparazzi intrusions on the very private doctor’s life), but there’s real love between the two, which keeps them returning to each other again and again. By the third or fourth tearful breakup — followed by a passionate reunion — Diana‘s story becomes repetitive as it marches toward its inevitable tragic end. Still, director Oliver Hirschbiegel (2004’s Downfall, another last-days-in-the-life biopic, albeit of a slightly different nature) includes some light-hearted moments, as when a giggling Diana smuggles Hasnat through the palace gates (past guards who know exactly what she’s up to). As you’d expect, Watts is the best thing here, bringing warmth and complexity to a performance that strives to reach beyond imitation. (1:52) SF Center. (Eddy)

Don Jon Shouldering the duties of writer, director, and star for the comedy Don Jon, Joseph Gordon-Levitt has also picked up a broad Jersey accent, the physique of a gym rat, and a grammar of meathead posturing — verbal, physical, and at times metaphysical. His character, Jon, is the reigning kingpin in a triad of nightclubbing douchebags who pass their evenings assessing their cocktail-sipping opposite numbers via a well-worn one-to-10 rating system. Sadly for pretty much everyone involved, Jon’s rote attempts to bed the high-scorers are spectacularly successful — the title refers to his prowess in the art of the random hookup — that is, until he meets an alluring “dime” named Barbara (Scarlett Johansson), who institutes a waiting period so foreign to Jon that it comes to feel a bit like that thing called love. Amid the well-earned laughs, there are several repulsive-looking flies in the ointment, but the most conspicuous is Jon’s stealthy addiction to Internet porn, which he watches at all hours of the day, but with a particularly ritualistic regularity after each night’s IRL conquest has fallen asleep. These circumstances entail a fair amount of screen time with Jon’s O face and, eventually, after a season of growth — during which he befriends an older woman named Esther (Julianne Moore) and learns about the existence of arty retro Swedish porn — his “Ohhh&ldots;” face. Driven by deft, tight editing, Don Jon comically and capably sketches a web of bad habits, and Gordon-Levitt steers us through a transformation without straining our capacity to recognize the character we met at the outset — which makes the clumsy over-enunciations that mar the ending all the more jarring. (1:30) Elmwood, Metreon, 1000 Van Ness. (Rapoport)

Ender’s Game Those entering Ender’s Game in search of homophobic threads or politically unsavory themes will likely be frustrated. After all, Orson Scott Card — once a board member of the National Organization for Marriage, and here serving as a producer intent on preserving the 1985 novel that netted him acclaim — has revisited what was initially a short story multiple times over the years, tweaking it to reflect a new political climate, to ready it for new expedient uses. Who knows — the times are a-changin’ fast enough, with the outcry of LGBT activists and the growing acceptance of gay military members, to hope that a gay character might enter the mix someday. Of course, sexuality of all sorts is kept firmly in check in the Ender‘s world. Earth has been invaded by an insect-like species called the Formics, and the planet unifies to serve up its best and brightest (and, it’s implied, most ruthless) young minds, sharpened on first-person-shooters and tactical games, to the cause of defeating the alien “other.” Andrew “Ender” Wiggin (Asa Butterfield) is the knowing hybrid of his sociopath brother Peter (Jimmy Pinchak) and compassionate sister Valentine (Abigail Breslin) — of the trinity, he’s “the One,” as Han Solo, I mean, Harrison Ford, cadet talent-spotter and trainer Colonel Graff, puts it. Ender impresses the leather off the hardened old war horse, though the Colonel’s psychologically more equipped cohort Major Anderson (Viola Davis) suspects there’s more going on within their chosen leader. Director-screenwriter Gavin Hood demonstrates his allegiance to Card’s vision, valorizing the discipline and teamwork instilled by military school with the grim purpose and dead serious pleasure one might take in studying a well-oiled machine, while Ender is sharpened and employed as a stunningly effective tool in a war he never truly conceived of. This game has a bit more in common with the recent Wii-meets-Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Godzillas of Pacific Rim than the winking, acidic satire of Starship Troopers (1997), echoing a drone-driven War on Terror that has a way of detaching even the most evolved fighter from the consequences of his or her actions. The question is how to undo, or rewrite, the damage done. (1:54) 1000 Van Ness, Presidio, SF Center, Sundance Kabuki. (Chun)

Enough Said Eva (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) is a divorced LA masseuse who sees naked bodies all day but has become pretty wary of wanting any in her bed at night. She reluctantly changes her mind upon meeting the also-divorced Albert (James Gandolfini), a television archivist who, also like her, is about to see his only child off to college. He’s no Adonis, but their relationship develops rapidly — the only speed bumps being provided by the many nit-picking advisors Eva has in her orbit, which exacerbate her natural tendency toward glass-half-empty neurosis. This latest and least feature from writer-director Nicole Holofcener is a sitcom-y thing of the type that expects us to find characters all the more adorable the more abrasive and self-centered they are. That goes for Louis-Dreyfus’ annoying heroine as well as such wasted talents as Toni Colette as her kvetching best friend and Catherine Keener as a new client turned new pal so bitchy it makes no sense Eva would desire her company. The only nice person here is Albert, whom the late Gandolfini makes a charming, low-key teddy bear in an atypical turn. The revelation of an unexpected past tie between his figure and Keener’s puts Eva in an ethically disastrous position she handles dismally. In fact, while it’s certainly not Holofcener’s intention, Eva’s behavior becomes so indefensible that Enough Said commits rom-com suicide: The longer it goes on, the more fervently you hope its leads will not end up together. (1:33) Albany, Piedmont. (Harvey)

Escape Plan It’s fascinating how ruined faces and silvered goatees can lend an air of, uh, gravitas to even the most muscle-bound action-movie veterans. The logic: Sylvester Stallone and Arnold Schwarzenegger have been around so long that they must possess more than a few brain cells to rub together. And rub they do — to surprisingly pleasing effect in this cut-above-the-next-Expendables-sequel meeting of blockbuster behemoths. Stallone’s Ray Breslin is a prison security specialist so nerdily devoted to his work that he gets himself locked up to test his clients’ jails. He gets in over his head when he’s thrown into the most secure private prison in the world, which happens to be run by former Blackwater mercenaries. It’s essentially the next, rather permanent-looking step after your not-so-friendly rendition flight. Breslin befriends security man Rottmayer (Schwarzenegger), who’s in the clink on behalf of his “digital Robin Hood” boss. Menaced by warden Hobbs (Jim Caviezel) and brawny Drake (Vinnie Jones), the two prisoners kick off a changeable game, Muslim prisoner Javed (Faran Tahir) in tow. Director Mikael Håfström lays out the plans with geeky enthusiasm by way of zippy point-of-view shots that are supposed to let you into Breslin’s noggin. Shockingly, after Stallone’s recent brain-dead exercises (2012’s Bullet to the Head), it’s not an unhappy experience in this smarter-than-it-looks post-9/11 prison-break drama that wears its complicated feelings about War on Terror-era crime and punishment — and torture — on its sleeve. Still, matters never get too bleeding-heart liberal here, at the risk of alienating the stars’ audiences. Sly obviously embraces this opportunity to play smarter than usual, while the ex-Governator sinks his choppers into his role with glee, trotting out a Commando-style slo-mo gun-swinging move that will have his geek brigade cheering. (1:56) SF Center. (Chun)

Free Birds (1:31) Elmwood, Metreon, 1000 Van Ness.

God Loves Uganda Most contemporary Americans don’t know much about Uganda — that is, beyond Forest Whitaker’s Oscar-winning performance as Idi Amin in 2006’s The Last King of Scotland. Though that film took some liberties with the truth, it did effectively convey the grotesque terrors of the dictator’s 1970s reign. But even decades post-Amin, the East African nation has somehow retained its horrific human-rights record. For example: what extremist force was behind the country’s Anti-Homosexuality Bill, which proposed the death penalty as punishment for gayness? The answer might surprise you, or not. As the gripping, fury-fomenting doc God Loves Uganda reveals, America’s own Christian Right has been exporting hate under the guise of missionary work for some time. Taking advantage of Uganda’s social fragility — by building schools and medical clinics, passing out food, etc. — evangelical mega churches, particularly the Kansas City, Mo.-based, breakfast-invoking International House of Prayer, have converted large swaths of the population to their ultra-conservative beliefs. Filmmaker Roger Ross Williams, an Oscar winner for 2010 short Music by Prudence, follows naive “prayer warriors” as they journey to Uganda for the first time; his apparent all-access relationship with the group shows that they aren’t outwardly evil people — but neither do they comprehend the very real consequences of their actions. His other sources, including two Ugandan clergymen who’ve seen their country change for the worse and an LGBT activist who lives every day in peril, offer a more harrowing perspective. Evocative and disturbing, God Loves Uganda seems likely to earn Williams more Oscar attention. (1:23) Roxie. (Eddy)

Gravity “Life in space is impossible,” begins Gravity, the latest from Alfonso Cuarón (2006’s Children of Men). Egghead Dr. Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock) is well aware of her precarious situation after a mangled satellite slams into her ship, then proceeds to demolition-derby everything (including the International Space Station) in its path. It’s not long before she’s utterly, terrifyingly alone, and forced to unearth near-superhuman reserves of physical and mental strength to survive. Bullock’s performance would be enough to recommend Gravity, but there’s more to praise, like the film’s tense pacing, spare-yet-layered script (Cuarón co-wrote with his son, Jonás), and spectacular 3D photography — not to mention George Clooney’s warm supporting turn as a career astronaut who loves country music almost as much as he loves telling stories about his misadventures. (1:31) Metreon, 1000 Van Ness, Presidio, Sundance Kabuki. (Eddy)

Inequality for All Jacob Kornbluth’s Inequality for All is the latest and certainly not the last documentary to explore why the American Dream is increasingly out of touch with everyday reality, and how the definition of “middle class” somehow morphed from “comfortable” to “struggling, endangered, and hanging by a thread.” This lively overview has an ace up its sleeve in the form of the director’s friend, collaborator, and principal interviewee Robert Reich — the former Clinton-era Secretary of Labor, prolific author, political pundit, and UC Berkeley Professor of Public Policy. Whether he’s holding forth on TV, going one-on-one with Kornbluth’s camera, talking to disgruntled working class laborers, or engaging students in his Wealth and Poverty class, Inequality is basically a resourcefully illustrated Reich lecture — as the press notes put it, “an Inconvenient Truth for the economy.” Fortunately, the diminutive Reich is a natural comedian as well as a superbly cogent communicator, turning yet another summary of how the system has fucked almost everybody (excluding the one percent) into the one you might most want to recommend to the bewildered folks back home. He’s sugar on the pill, making it easier to swallow so much horrible news. (1:25) California. (Harvey)

Jackass Presents: Bad Grandpa (1:32) Metreon, 1000 Van Ness.

Kill Your Darlings Relieved to escape his Jersey home, dominated by the miseries of an oft-institutionalized mother (Jennifer Jason Leigh) and long-suffering father (David Cross), Allen Ginsberg (Daniel Radcliffe) enters Columbia University in 1944 as a freshman already interested in the new and avant-garde. He’s thus immediately enchanted by bad-boy fellow student Lucien Carr (Dane DeHaan), a veteran of numerous prestigious schools and well on the road to getting kicked out of this one. Charismatic and reckless, Carr has a circle of fellow eccentrics buzzing around him, including dyspeptic William S. Burroughs (Ben Foster) and merchant marine wild child Jack Kerouac (Jack Huston). Variably included in or ostracized from this training ground for future Beat luminaries is the older David Kammerer (Michael C. Hall), a disgraced former academic who’d known Carr since the latter was 14, and followed him around with pathetic, enamored devotion. It’s this last figure’s apparent murder by Carr that provides the bookending crux of John Krokidas’ impressive first feature, a tragedy whose motivations and means remain disputed. Partly blessed by being about a (comparatively) lesser-known chapter in an overexposed, much-mythologized history, Kill Your Darlings is easily one of the best dramatizations yet of Beat lore, with excellent performances all around. (Yes, Harry Potter actually does pass quite well as a somewhat cuter junior Ginsberg.) It’s sad if somewhat inevitable that the most intriguing figure here — Hall’s hapless, lovelorn stalker-slash-victim — is the one that remains least knowable to both the film and to the ages. (1:40) SF Center, Shattuck. (Harvey)

Last Vegas This buddy film may look like a Bucket List-Hangover hybrid, but it’s got a lot more Spring Breakers in it than you expect — who beats Vegas for most bikinis per capita? Four old friends reunite for a wedding in Vegas, where they drink, gamble, and are confused for legendary men. Morgan Freeman sneaks out of his son’s house to go. Kevin Kline’s wife gave him a hall pass to regain his lost sense of fun. Kline and Freeman trick Robert De Niro into going — he’s got a grudge against Michael Douglas, so why celebrate that jerk’s nuptials to a 30-year-old? The conflicts are mostly safe and insubstantial, but the in-joke here is that all of these acting legends are confused for legends by their accidentally obtained VIP host (Romany Malco). These guys have earned their stature, so what gives? When De Niro flings fists you shudder inside remembering Jake LaMotta. Kline’s velvety comic delivery is just as swaggery as it was during his 80s era collaborations with Lawrence Kasdan. Douglas is “not as charming as he thinks he is,” yet again, and voice-of-God Freeman faces a conflict specific to paternal protective urges. Yes, Last Vegas jokes about the ravages of age and prescribes tenacity for all that ails us, but I want a cast this great celebrated at least as obviously as The Expendables films. Confuse these guys for better? Show me who. (1:44) Four Star, Metreon, 1000 Van Ness, Presidio. (Vizcarrondo)

Man of Tai Chi (1:45) Metreon.

Muscle Shoals Hard on the heels of Dave Grohl’s Sound City comes another documentary about a legendary American recording studio. Located in the titular podunk Northern Alabama burg, Fame Studio drew an extraordinary lineup of musicians and producers to make fabled hits from the early 1960s through the early ’80s. Among them: Percy Sledge’s “When a Man Loves a Woman,” a slew of peak era Aretha Franklin smashes, the Rolling Stones’ “Brown Sugar,” and those cornerstones of Southern rock, Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Freebird” and “Sweet Home Alabama.” Tales of how particular tracks came about are entertaining, especially when related by the still-lively likes of Etta James, Wilson Pickett, and Keith Richards. (Richards is a hoot, while surprisingly Mick Jagger doesn’t have much to say.) Director Greg Camalier’s feature can be too worshipful and digressive at times, and he’s skittish about probing fallouts between Fame’s founder Rick Hall and some long-term collaborators (notably the local in-house session musicians known as the Swampers who were themselves a big lure for many artists, and who left Fame to start their own successful studio). Still, there’s enough fascinating material here — also including a lot of archival footage — that any music fan whose memory or interest stretches back a few decades will find much to enjoy. (1:51) Opera Plaza, Shattuck. (Harvey)

12 Years a Slave Pop culture’s engagement with slavery has always been uneasy. Landmark 1977 miniseries Roots set ratings records, but the prestigious production capped off a decade that had seen some more questionable endeavors, including 1975 exploitation flick Mandingo — often cited by Quentin Tarantino as one of his favorite films; it was a clear influence on his 2012 revenge fantasy Django Unchained, which approached its subject matter in a manner that paid homage to the Westerns it riffed on: with guns blazing. By contrast, Steve McQueen’s 12 Years a Slave is nuanced and steeped in realism. Though it does contain scenes of violence (deliberately captured in long takes by regular McQueen collaborator Sean Bobbitt, whose cinematography is one of the film’s many stylistic achievements), the film emphasizes the horrors of “the peculiar institution” by repeatedly showing how accepted and ingrained it was. Slave is based on the true story of Solomon Northup, an African American man who was sold into slavery in 1841 and survived to pen a wrenching account of his experiences. He’s portrayed here by the powerful Chiwetel Ejiofor. Other standout performances come courtesy of McQueen favorite Michael Fassbender (as Epps, a plantation owner who exacerbates what’s clearly an unwell mind with copious amounts of booze) and newcomer Lupita Nyong’o, as a slave who attracts Epps’ cruel attentions. (2:14) California, Embarcadero, Marina, Piedmont, Sundance Kabuki. (Eddy)

Wadjda Hijabs, headmistresses, and errant fathers fall away before the will and wherewithal of the 11-year-old title character of Wadjda, the first feature by a female Saudi Arabian filmmaker. Director Haifaa al-Mansour’s own story — which included filming on the streets of Riyadh from the isolation of a van because she couldn’t work publicly with the men in the crew — is the stuff of drama, and it follows that her movie lays out, in the neorealist style of 1948’s The Bicycle Thief, the obstacles to freedom set in the path of women and girls in Saudi Arabia, in terms that cross cultural, geographic, and religious boundaries. The fresh star setting the course is Wadjda (first-time actor Waad Mohammed), a smart, irrepressibly feisty girl practically bursting out of her purple high-tops and intent on racing her young neighborhood friend Abudullah (Abdullrahman Algohani) on a bike. So many things stand in her way: the high price of bicycles and the belief that girls will jeopardize their virginity if they ride them; her distracted mother (Reem Abdullah) who’s worried that Wadjda’s father will take a new wife who can bear him a son; and a harsh, elegant headmistress (Ahd) intent on knuckling down on girlish rebellion. So Wadjda embarks on studying for a Qu’ran recital competition to win money for her bike and in the process learns a matter or two about discipline — and the bigger picture. Director al-Mansour teaches us a few things about her world as well — and reminds us of the indomitable spirit of girls — with this inspiring peek behind an ordinarily veiled world. (1:37) Opera Plaza, Shattuck. (Chun)

Zaytoun It’s 1982 in war-torn Beirut, and on the semi-rare occasion that streetwise 12-year-old Palestinian refugee Fahed (Abdallah El Akal) attends school, he’s faced with an increasing number of empty desks, marked by photos of the dead classmates who used to sit there. His own father is killed in an air strike as Zaytoun begins. When an Israeli pilot (Stephen Dorff — a surprising casting choice, but not a bad one) is shot down and becomes a PLO prisoner, Fahed’s feelings of hatred give way to curiosity, and he agrees to help the man escape back to Israel, so long as he brings Fahed, who’s intent on planting his father’s olive sapling in his family’s former village, along. It’s not an easy journey, and a bond inevitably forms — just as problems inevitably ensue when they reach the border. Israeli director Eran Riklis (2008’s Lemon Tree) avoids sentimentality in this tale that nonetheless travels a pretty predictable path. (1:50) Smith Rafael. (Eddy) *

 

Alive, not well

Michael Redmond
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0
Alive, not well

[Update: La Luz was in a car accident during its tour and will no longer be playing these shows. The accident totaled the van, destroyed the gear, and band members suffered injuries. To donate, click here]

TOFU AND WHISKEY Sometimes the unexpected can rip you apart. It can gnaw at your insides, leave your stomach in knots, and twist your thoughts into a confused, messy blur. And sometimes, those rare unanticipated moments can inspire you anew. All the hurt and bewilderment and dark emotions reconfigure and morph into a project, such as an album.

La Luz guitarist-vocalist Shana Cleveland felt this molten wave firsthand and the end result is a striking, blackened surf rock album with four-way doo-wop melodies and churling riffs smacking against the seawall. It’s the full-length debut from the Seattle all-lady quartet: It’s Alive (Hardly Art). The group tours to SF this week, opening up for of Montreal (Fri/8-Sat/9, 9pm, $21. Great American Music Hall, 859 O’Farrell, SF. www.slimspresents.com).

It’s Alive was built from death. “When something that dramatic happens, it could either crush you or give you a crazy energy,” Cleveland says. “For me it was like, after I came out of just being really depressed for awhile I was really inspired to….I don’t know exactly how to phrase it. It’s kind of a weird thing to talk about, I guess. It’s so heavy.”

That heavy moment took place May 30, 2012, when a deranged shooter burst into a Seattle café — Café Racer, where Cleveland and her friends routinely hung out — and killed five people. Around the corner from her house, it’s where she first met La Luz bassist Abby Blackwell. On that spring day last year, it’s where her friend Drew Keriakedes (otherwise known as “Shmootzi the Clod”), a vaudeville-style singing circus clown, died, slain in the rampage.

She describes him as always giving open, honest performances that made everyone fall in love with him — that performance style informed her own artistry. And the months after the shooting informed her songwriting. Though she also notes an intuition affected the record.

“It’s weird because a lot of the lyrics I wrote before the shooting happened and then a lot of them I wrote after. But then when I looked back…I kept seeing these weird premonitions. It just seems like the air was really heavy with this insane event and I was sort of channeling this crazy shit that was about to happen. This sounds kind of New Age-y. But when I looked back over the lyrics I was just like, ‘holy shit!’ I think I just felt something in the air.”

That gloom bled into It’s Alive, a record equally inspired by legendary surf guitarist Link Wray, who also lent a darker edge to the style.

“So it’s sort of a haunted album. It’s kind of cool that it’s coming out around Halloween, it seems fitting.”

It’s the band’s first real record, though before it played a single show, it recorded a demo tape called Damp Face. Both were recorded with the group’s friend Johnny Goss, who was living in a trailer park on the outskirts of town at the time. Goss, who “accumulated all this really cool old recording gear,” took a leisurely approach to It’s Alive, hanging out with La Luz and working together to add new vocal overdubs or extra fuzz.

Cleveland describes it as a highly collaborative process between Goss and the rest of La Luz — bassist Blackwell, drummer Marian Li Pino, and keyboardist Alice Sandahl — though she wrote the bulk of the lyrics before they started playing together. Once La Luz came together, the group altered the music and included everyone’s input.

But Cleveland is also comfortable making art on her own. In addition to La Luz, she’s also a poet (she actually majored in poetry at Columbia College in Chicago) and a visual artist, known for drawings and paintings of other bands and singers, often with big retro hairstyles or matching vintage suits.

“I found this record in a thrift store once and someone had done like, a ballpoint pen drawing of Buffalo Springfield. It was tucked inside of the record and I was really fascinated by it..and I kind of became obsessed with it. I’ve [always] been kind of obsessed with bands I guess, because my parents were both in bands too so it’s my whole life.”

Her dad plays in country and blues bands, her mom sings and plays blues harmonica. They met on tour, in fact — her dad was traveling with a band and stopped in her mom’s Colorado town, then she joined him on the road.

Cleveland grew up playing the instruments her parents — since divorced — had strewn around the house in Kalamazoo, Mich. She picked up guitar around 15 and began playing Veruca Salt songs.

After college, Cleveland headed west to LA but says she hated living in the San Fernando Valley. One day her mom brought her a copy of Seattle alt-weekly, The Stranger, and on a whim, she decided to move there.

“I packed up my Oldsmobile and moved. I don’t know if [The Stranger] knows that yet! I kind of want to tell them.”

Seattle became home and she has since ingrained herself in the local music scene, ticking off favorite Seattle acts like Rose Windows — “They’re doing this like, ’60s psych Jefferson Airplane kind of thing, they’re all really amazing players” — blues combo Lonesome Shack, and Pony Time.

For now, La Luz is touring on It’s Alive, and revving up for a first ever European jaunt in early 2014. While the songwriting began on a darker note, Cleveland is now seeing brightness in the future, at least when I pry out her band goals: “I really want to tour with Ty Segall. That’s just a dream of mine because I would like to see him play every night. I hope that happens. I really want to play with Shannon and the Clams too, because we’re all huge fans of theirs. And the Growwlers. We just played with them but I think it’d be fun to play more shows with them in the future too. They’re one of our favorite bands.”

 

SIX WEEKS RECORDS 20TH ANNIVERSARY

Two decades is a long lifeline for a DIY record label — especially one known for such short songs. Six Weeks Records, founded in ’92 by Athena Kautsch and Jeff Robinson, has distributed dozens of grimy grindcore, breakneck punk, and loud-as-hell hardcore albums from bands around the world. Clearly dedicated to the art of deafening music, the label also publishes the Short, Fast & Loud fanzine. This two-night anniversary fest features acts of the Six Weeks Records family including LA powerviolence legends Despise You, Tokyo’s Slight Slappers, NY’s Magrudergrind, Capitalist Casualties, Backslider, Coke Bust, P.L.F, and more.

Fri/8-Sat/9, 7pm, $17 each ($30 two-day pass). Oakland Metro, 630 Third St, Oakl. www.oaklandmetro.org.

 

MINOR ALPS

With Matthew Caws of Nada Surf and Juliana Hatfield of guest-starring-angel-on-My So-Called Life fame forming an intricate new pop band together — Minor Alps — it’s clear the ’90s resurgence beats on. The guitar-swelling, melodious new act, which just released debut LP Get There (Barsuk), plays the Independent Mon/11. And with it comes openers Churches, whom we previewed here at the Guardian before. The Nirvana-loving Bay Area band just released two new tracks: “Pretty in Black” and “Goths on the Boardwalk.” Says frontperson Caleb Nichols, “‘Goths on the Boardwalk’ is the culmination of my two years of living in Santa Cruz. It’s been weird — goths everywhere. [It’s] an ode to my love-hate with this place.” The angst continues.

Mon/11, 8pm, $20. Independent, 628 Divisadero, SF. www.theindependentsf.com.

 

CRASHFASTER

Local Nintendo-blasting electro rock group crashfaster released the track “Beacon,” the first single of its forthcoming sophomore LP, Further, this week. Like its earlier work, “Beacon” is a bouncy, nostalgic, digi-ride through ’80s video game culture, backed by motorcycle revving guitarwork and sound effects, in rock’n’roll chiptune style, which looks good for the rest of Further. Recorded at Different Fur Studios, that new full-length sees release Nov. 19 — but before that there’s a show at DNA Lounge. With Bit Shifter, Trash80, Unwoman.

Nov. 14, 9pm, $15. DNA Lounge, 375 11th St, SF. www.dnalounge.com.

 

High fidelity rockers

Michael Redmond
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High fidelity rockers

MUSIC Everyone knows the best way to music idolatry is a solid education in the school of rock (or pop, or hip-hop, or goth, Madchester, shoegaze, techno, et. al). And what better way to soak up the sexy, jagged history of music than to work at one of the few brick-and-mortar stores left that sells it exclusively.

Yes, we’re talking about the classic record shop clerk/artist dichotomy. It’s alive and well in San Francisco and the Bay Area beyond. We see it in Andee Connors of Aquarius Records and his bands like A Minor Forest [see full story]. And also bubbling over elsewhere in sound city thanks to still-vibrant music purveyors and lovers of all things sonic:

Perhaps the most well-documented record shop employee is SF’s darling garage rocker Kelley Stoltz, who works at Grooves on Market Street (he has done so for 12 years), and who released his latest full-length, Double Exposure, last month on Third Man Records.

There’s also Amoeba’s Upper Haight location, which is a hotbed of worker-musicians, including Fresh & Onlys bassist Shayde Sartin, whose formerly fuzzy band a few months back released latest EP Soothsaver on Mexican Summer, a shiny vintage pop gem. In that Golden Gate-adjacent mega-shop (which also has locations in Berkeley and LA) there’s also Andrew Kerwin of Trainwreck Riders, Luciano Talpini of Ceiling Eyes, Rory Smith of Death Pajamas, Steve Peacock of Pale Challis, and David James, who plays in many a band (Afrofunk Experience, Beth Custer Ensemble, Curtis Bumpy, David James’s GPS).

Brand-spanking-new record store RS94109 in the Tenderloin is brimming with vinyl dance music — and dance music talent. Twin owners Askander and Sohrab Harooni both make tracks upstairs, while close associate Oliver Vereker is rising through the dark techno ranks with eardrum-challenging DJ sets and hyped new L.I.E.S. label releases “Rosite” and “Fear Eats the Soul.”

The main man behind Explorist International, Chris Dixon, is currently in a few bands, including duo tujurikkuja, and a synthy electronic drone-psych project called Earth Jerks. He’s also finally remixed some Death Sentence: Panda! (remember them?) recordings from 2011 that will probably be released on cassette.

Punk-friendly Thrillhouse Records on the border of the Mission and Bernal hosts staffers who are also members of Apogee Sound Club, Dead Seeds, C’est Dommage, Dead Seeds, Pig DNA, Robocop 3, New Flesh, and Fantasy World.

Oakland’s newest record shop, Stranded, has Sam Lefebvre, a music writer himself who also plays in Pure Bliss and Cold Circuits.

And Rob Fletcher at 1-2-3-4 Go! is in Beasts of Bourbon-influenced rock band MUSK.

Some shops are breeding grounds for bands. Streetlight Records’ San Jose and Santa Cruz locations, for instance, harbor members of nearly a dozen different bands including death metal acts Abnutivum and Infernal Slave (both Matt DeLeon), Churches (Caleb Nichols), Cat & Shout (Cat Johnson), Folivore (Kyle Kessler), and Doctor Nurse (Jeff Brummett). There’s also Stiff Love, which includes four Street Light Santa Cruz co-workers: Raul Medrano, Rey Apodaca, Chelsea Cooper, Cherene Araujo.

Of course, there are plenty more budding musicians behind those shop counters. Do yourself a favor and talk to your local record store clerk. Get the dirt on his or her own musical project then dig deeper through the vinyl crates for the inspirations. And feel free to add your favorites in the comments.

Finally, lest we forget the archetypal, faintly satirical pop culture reference: there’s High Fidelity‘s band of jaded collectors who are also sort-of musicians and DJs on the side. “We’re no longer called Sonic Death Monkey. We’re on the verge of becoming Kathleen Turner Overdrive, but just for tonight, we are Barry Jive and his Uptown Five.”

Mathematical!

Michael Redmond
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0
Mathematical!

arts@sfbg.com

MUSIC To locals, Andee Connors is perhaps best known as the longtime co-owner of Aquarius Records, an independent record shop in the Mission. Aquarius, which specializes in obscure underground releases, is a landmark vinyl provider in SF that first opened its doors in 1970 to a group of stoners in the Castro, as the story goes.

Connors began working at aQ in 1994 (the shop by then long settled in the Mission), and became co-owner a decade ago. These days, he can still be seen behind the counter.

And yet, for math rock enthusiasts, Connors is recognized for a different music-related profession: He was the drummer and vocalist behind 1990s San Francisco rock band, A Minor Forest.

“Some people come in to the store and recognize me from A Minor Forest,” Connors says from his post in aQ. “It’s amazing when people in their early 20s tell me that they like the band. I’m like: ‘Holy crap, you were probably two years old when we were touring!'”

With noisy and jam-packed intricate time signatures and musical arrangements, A Minor Forest (AMF) stuck out in the Bay Area music scene years ago, taking on a post-rock sound in a community with a simplistic punk tradition. And on Sat/9, the band is reuniting to play its first show in 15 years — at Bottom of the Hill with Barn Owl, fellow labelmate of Chicago’s much-loved Thrill Jockey Records.

It all began in the early ’90s, when Connors left his home and school in San Diego to play music in the Bay Area. Shortly thereafter (’92), he teamed up with bassist John Trevor Benson and guitarist and fellow vocalist Erik Hoversten to “make the most difficult music possible.”

According to Connors, A Minor Forest took on a higher calling early on: making weird art and fucking with audiences as much as possible.

“A lot of our early shows were 45 minutes of nonstop repetition,” Connors says. “Over time, we drifted away from that and became less overtly annoying.”

Along the way, some people caught on to A Minor Forest’s “weird art project.” One such person: Legendary Nirvana producer Steve Albini, of Big Black and Shellac fame, who recorded AMF’s album Flemish Altruism (Constituent Parts 1993-1996) on Thrill Jockey in 1996.

With that, the band toured relentlessly and built a fanbase across the country, picking up friendly connections along the way.

“A lot of people I know now go back to my time in A Minor Forest,” says Connors. “When I look back on my life, it’s one of the coolest things I did.”

Though AMF hasn’t been active for the past 15 years, members Benson, Hoversten, and Connors have hosted their own musical projects. Currently, Connors lends his talents to four different bands: pop group Imperils, Ticwar, and Crappy Islands (respectively) with Benson from AMF and Common Eider, King Eider with Rob Fisk of early Deerhoof. Hoversten, meanwhile, was a touring guitarist for Pinback.

No matter what band he plays in, whether it be pop-punk or post-rock, Connors keeps it within a similarly complex, often calculated drumming style, whether he intends to or not.

“I think probably because of the bands I grew up listening to, and the era AMF was active, a lot of my drumming ended up being pretty mathy,” Connors says. “[It] became sort of permanently ingrained — and thus it seems like most bands I play with, I end up making them sound more mathy, whether I mean to or not.”

Weird time signatures, intricate arrangements, and long songs are a few of his favored sonic techniques. And Connors embraces math rock bands of yore like Polvo or Slint and newer bands that take on that same tradition.

“I loved math rock back in the day, and I still do,” Connors says. “I tend to dig bands that do whatever they do, pop, metal, whatever, in a way that’s…complex and weird. I also still dig that old ’90s style…and love the new bands that channel that sound.”

Although no longer active, AMF has long been embraced by enthusiasts of the fallen genre. So the question of the reunion remains: Why now? It goes back to A Minor Forest’s early supporters, Thrill Jockey, also known for releasing albums by bands such as Tortoise, the Sea and Cake, Wooden Shjips, and Barn Owl.

“We live in an era where many bands are reuniting, and though it’s great to hear that your favorite act is getting back together, I’ve been reluctant with the trend,” Connors says. “When Thrill Jockey expressed interest in reissuing our albums as a Record Store Day release recently, we thought that it would be weird and fun to play together again.”

Adding, “I’m psyched.”

And according to Connors, AMF will only be playing the finest and intriguingly named tunes like “…But the Pants Stay On” and “So Jesus Was at the Last Supper…”

“I know the frustration when an old band plays and is like ‘Hey we’re only going to play stuff from our new album!” Connors says. “We’re just sticking to the songs that people like and want to hear.”

A MINOR FOREST

With Barn Owl Sat/9, 9:30pm, $15

Bottom of the Hill

1233 17th St, SF

(415) 626-4455

www.bottomofthehill.com

 

On the Cheap: November 6 – 12, 2013

Michael Redmond
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0

On the Cheap listings are compiled by Guardian staff. Submit items for the listings at listings@sfbg.com. For further information on how to submit items for the listings, see Selector.

WEDNESDAY 6

“The Big Book of Orgasms: 69 Sexy Stories” Good Vibrations, 1620 Polk, SF; www.goodvibes.com. 6:30pm, free. Contributors read from editor Rachel Kramer Bussel’s latest erotica anthology.

David Henry and Joe Henry Diesel, A Bookstore, 5433 College, Oakl; www.dieselbookstore.com. 7pm, free. The brothers (David’s a screenwriter; Joe’s a musician) discuss their new book, Furious Cool: Richard Pryor and the World That Made Him.

THURSDAY 7

Bill Ayers Booksmith, 1644 Haight, SF; www.booksmith.com. 7:30pm, free. The author discusses Public Enemy: Confessions of an American Dissident, a sequel to his Fugitive Days that delves into his life after the Weather Underground.

Travis Smith and Chris Bale Books Inc., 2275 Market, SF; www.booksinc.net. 7:30pm, free. The authors discuss their best-selling travel book, Guide for the Modern Bear, at this official SF Bear Pride Week (www.sfbearpride.com) event.

FRIDAY 8

“Last Word Reading Series” Nefeli Caffe, 1834 Euclid, Berk; (510) 841-6374. 7pm, free. Poets Ivan Arguelles and Mary-Marcia Castoly read, followed by an open mic.

“A Planned Disappearance Of” Proxy, 432 Octavia, SF; www.deptofarchitecture.com. 6-9:30pm, free. Also Sat/9, noon-8pm, free. Dept. of Architecture gallery presents this pop-up event with sound performances, temporary exhibitions, talks, music, and more.

SATURDAY 9

Daniel Alarcón Diesel, A Bookstore, 5433 College, Oakl; www.dieselbookstore.com. 7pm, free. The San Francisco-based author discusses his latest novel, At Night We Walk in Circles.

“Celebration of Craftswomen” Festival Pavilion, Fort Mason Center, Buchanan at Marina, SF; www.fortmason.org. 10am-5pm. Through Mon/11. $7-9 (free for children 12 and under; two-day pass, $15). Over 190 female artists showcase their wares and skills at this 35th annual juried event. Proceeds benefit the Women’s Building.

“Come Out & Play Festival” Today: Everett Middle School, 450 Church, SF; www.comeoutandplaysf.org. 11am-7pm (Journey to the End of Night, pre-registration required, 7pm), free. Sun/10, Mission Recreation Center, 2450 Harrison, SF. 11am-4pm, free. Local and visiting designers and street-game enthusiasts take to the Mission for smart phone-based games, alternative sports, sidewalk chalk-based adventures, and more.

“Diwali: The Festival of Lights” Brahma Kumaris Meditation Center, 401 Baker, SF; www.bksanfrancisco.com. 6-8pm, free (register online). Celebrate the Indian festival of Diwali, or “festival of lights,” with music and meditation to envision “the dawn of the era of peace, happiness, and prosperity.” Supervisor London Breed is the special guest.

“Issue in Focus: The Chocolate Industry” Eric Quezada Center for Cultura and Politics, 518 Valencia, SF; www.518valencia.org. 6-9pm, $5-10. Food Empowerment Project screens two short films (The Dark Side of Chocolate and The Shady Side of Chocolate) at its first-ever public event.

San Francisco Opera Free Community Open House War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness, SF; www.sfopera.com. 10:30am-2:30pm, free. Onstage musical demonstrations, stage combat workshops, makeup and costume demos, a costume photo booth, scavenger hunt, food trucks, and more highlight this second annual event. Register online to win tickets to The Barber of Seville or The Barber of Seville for Families at sfopera.com/openhouse.

SF Green Festival Concourse Exhibition Center, 635 Eighth St, SF; www.greenfestivals.org. 10am-6pm; Sun/10, 11am-5pm. $10-15. Two-day festival celebrating sustainability and ecology, with cooking demos, environmental films, speakers, activities for kids, a green-biz marketplace, and more.

SUNDAY 10

Novemberfest in Temescal Alley Temescal Alley, 49th St at Temescal, Oakl; www.temescalalleys.com. Noon-4pm, free (beers, $5; all-you-can-drink tasting glass, $15-25; proceeds benefit Walk Oakland Bike Oakland). Live music and a showcase of local craft brewers, including Linden Street Brewery, Calicraft, Ale Industries, Drakes Brewing Company, and others.

MONDAY 11

Gail Carriger Borderlands Books, 866 Valencia, SF; www.borderlands-books.com. 7pm, free. The steampunk author reads from Curtsies and Conspiracies, the second title in her “Finishing School” series.

TUESDAY 12

Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz University Press Books, 2430 Bancroft, Berk; www.universitypressbooks.com. 6pm, free. The author discusses indigenous resistance and the re-release of The Great Sioux Nation: Sitting in Judgment on America. There will also be a poetry reading by Julie Thi Underhill, a descendant of the indigenous Cham of Vietnam.

“The Fabulous World of Queer Pulp Yesterday and Today” Koret Auditorium, San Francisco Main Library, 100 Larkin, SF; www.sfpl.org. 6pm, free. Pulp icon Ann Bannon, historians Martin Meeker and Jenny Worey, and authors F. Allen Sawyer and Monica Nolan gather to discuss queer pulp paperbacks.

Warren Lehrer Booksmith, 1644 Haight, SF; www.booksmith.com. 7:30pm, free. The artist and author discusses A Life in Books: The Ride and Fall of Beau Mobley. *

 

Goin’ back to Gotham

Michael Redmond
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0
Goin’ back to Gotham

arts@sfbg.com

GAMER There’s something inherently lazy in subtitling your video game sequel Origins. Almost as ubiquitous as games with names ending Revelations, it is a title that means very little outside of indicating that the game in question is a prequel. This specific move into prequel territory comes in the same year that the self-titled Batman comic revisits the vigilante’s first year as a caped superhero with the storyline Zero Year, and features a similarly reckless Batman battling a series of assassins amid a Christmas Eve snowstorm.

It was a good decision to set Batman: Arkham Origins (Warner Bros. Games Montréal/Warner Bros. Interactive Entertainment; Xbox 360, PS3, Wii U, PC) a bit further into Batman’s first year on the beat, considering even a casual fan can recite the details of Batman’s initial transformation from billionaire bachelor to crime-fighting defender of Gotham City in the wake of his parents’ murder. Thankfully, Arkham Origins skips all that and gives people what they want: more of the tempestuous and enduring love-hate relationship between Batman and the Joker. The clown-faced psychopath is an unknown quantity for Batman this early into his crime-fighting career, and the unhinged performance by new voice-actor Troy Baker, following Mark Hamill’s departure from the series in 2011, is the glue that holds Arkham Origins‘ mostly clumsy and contrived narrative together.

Aside from the Joker, the villains of Arkham Origins are less-than-exciting; headlining C-listers like Electrocutioner, Copperhead, and Firefly prove we are well beyond the realm of Christopher Nolan’s film universe. Arkham City (2011) offered a fair number of lesser characters as well, but their inclusion lent the sandbox city a feeling of life and excitement — there was a new story to discover around every corner — and there was a weight to the threats they posed. By comparison, destroying Black Mask’s drug caches or disarming Anarky’s bombs matter little in the grand scheme of the night, and leaves Gotham feeling a smidge emptier than you might remember.

Thankfully, the backbone of Rocksteady Games’ Batman titles proves strong enough to support a less ambitious entry in the series. Cinematic, referential, and fiercely game-y, the Arkham games walk the line between slick Hollywood thrills and narratively incongruous, old school collect-a-thon, and new in-house developer Warner Bros. Games Montréal has done its best to respect the formula. Whether you’re countering a knife-wielding thug or picking off goons from the shadows, being the Batman remains as invigorating as ever, and you certainly get to do plenty of both during the 10-plus hour campaign.

Ultimately, you probably aren’t mistaken if you think Arkham Origins sounds like a quick cash-in to keep insatiable fans happy and to continue making money off a successful franchise. Arkham City‘s great feat was that it was an ambitious expansion of everything that worked in Arkham Asylum; by comparison this is a lateral move for the series. Still, it’s only truly disappointing when you consider the benchmark Arkham Asylum and Arkham City set for comic book adaptations. Five years ago, this would have been the best Batman game ever made. Today, it stands as only a decent one. At least they didn’t get Ben Affleck to play Batman, right? *

 

Keep it reel

Michael Redmond
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2
Keep it reel

cheryl@sfbg.com

FILM Central India’s Gulabi Gang, composed of rural women fighting violence and oppression, has become a popular media subject, and it’s not hard to see why: Not only does it offer an inspiring story, it’s visually compelling, since its members dress in matching, hot-pink saris. Pink Saris, in fact, was the title of documentarian Kim Longinotto’s portrait of the group; it played in the 2011 San Francisco International Film Festival. Now, there’s Gulabi Gang, Nishtha Jain’s doc, which screens as part of the San Francisco International South Asian Film Festival, presented by 3rd i. (A Bollywood narrative, Gulaab Gang, is reportedly in production as well.)

Front and center in Jain’s film is formidable leader Sampat Pal, who speaks loudly and carries a big stick she’s perfectly willing to use. Though the Gulabi Gang’s trademark acts of physical retaliation are only discussed anecdotally, we do get to see the activists sharply criticize corrupt village leaders and dismissive cops. We also tag along as the women circulate among communities recruiting new members. The main plot thread follows Pal as she investigates a woman’s suspicious death — likely a murder, and one that’s being shoddily covered up by her husband and his family. (Later, it’s revealed that the wife was just 15 or 16, having been married off at age 11.)

Pal, who founded the group in 2006, is a skilled agitator, speaking for the voiceless and cannily grabbing whatever platform is available. “The video camera is recording it all,” she declares after visiting a crime scene that’s clearly been tampered with. “Your artistry will be shoved up your asses.”

But though Pal is backed up by fellow activists (Gulabi Gang notes that the group has some 150,000 members), Jain is careful to show that a happy ending is impossible amid an epidemic of violence against women. “Only God knows what happened,” the teen bride’s own father remarks with case-closed dismissiveness. Still, the women press on, and there’s hope to be found in their determination, and in the fact that there’s a trend of women’s rights docs coming out of India lately. Another, Invoking Justice — about women in southern India who’ve formed their own “Jamaat” to handle disputes traditionally settled by men according to Islamic Sharia law — screened at the Center for Asian American Media’s 2013 CAAMfest.

There’s a bit of feminist subtext to be found in Beyond All Boundaries, about India’s obsession with the sport of cricket. Er, ‘scuse me: “It’s not a sport — it’s a religion!” according to a first-act interviewee, hyperbole that starts to feel like fact once Boundaries gets rolling. Sushrut Jain’s doc, shot during the lead-up to the 2011 World Cup, follows three young people who’ve found their identities via cricket: homeless megafan Sudhir, who bicycles (sometimes for weeks) to every India match and coats himself with paint to become a living embodiment of team spirit; 12-year-old cricket prodigy Prithvi, whose skills are his golden ticket out of poverty, and (one hopes) a means to escape his sports-Svengali father; and Akshaya, an 18-year-old with a horrific home life who’s dropped out of school to pursue her dreams of playing professionally.

Reaching cricket’s elite level is no easy pursuit, even for a very talented boy — but for a girl, it’s nearly impossible. (Think of it this way: even in big-budget America, pro teams for women are pretty damn scarce.) And even if Akshaya makes it, whatever pay she earns will be laughably low; a coach interviewed in Boundaries is embarrassed to name the salary range on camera. But she has to try, since cricket is the only bright spot in what’s been a trying life. She seems so deserving that it’s hard to blame the filmmakers for stepping in and paying for medical care when an injury threatens an important try-out session.

Though Prithvi’s story contains some worrisome figures — the rich benefactor who’s funding the boy’s early career ominously notes, “If he doesn’t make it as a cricketer, that would be like a curse to me”; the youngster’s father, who jovially admits he “has to” hit his son from time to time — his future prospects seem brighter than Akshaya’s. Most uplifting is the tale of Sudhir, whose devotion to cricket makes him a misfit in his estranged family, but a hero to fellow supporters who admire his dedication.

Boundaries is more character piece than Cricket 101, but even if you don’t know its rules (seriously, why so many runs?), the language of sports fandom is universal. And in this case, it’s political: “Cricket was one way of showing the colonial rulers that we were your equal,” a sports journalist points out, and indeed the race to the World Cup finals, against long-standing rivals like Pakistan, makes for some highly charged matchups.

Elsewhere in the fest — which celebrates “100 Years of Indian Cinema” as well as offering a “Spotlight on Pakistan” — is a must-see for film history buffs: Celluloid Man, a nearly three-hour portrait of 80-year-old P.K. Nair, “the Henri Langolis of India” who founded the country’s National Film Archive. His is described as an “obsessive passion” (hey, for some it’s cricket, for some it’s film), and Shivendra Singh Dungarpur’s doc is an appropriately thorough, affectionate tribute, jammed with clips from movies Nair helped rescue and preserve. *

SF INTERNATIONAL SOUTH ASIAN FILM FESTIVAL: BOLLYWOOD AND BEYOND

Nov 6-16, $10-$125

Various venues, SF and Palo Alto

www.thirdi.org

 

Life’s work

Michael Redmond
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1
Life’s work

arts@sfbg.com

FILM Beware Canadians — they may walk softly, but they carry a big hockey stick. The country next door has always had a bigger influence on American life than generally thought, especially at the movies. Mary Pickford, the medium’s first superstar, was Canadian; so, a century later, are Ryans Gosling and Reynolds, Jim Carrey, Ellen Page, Rachel McAdams, and Seth Rogen. Canadians have directed a lot of seemingly very American films, from 1982’s Porky’s to this year’s Prisoners.

Now there’s Dallas Buyers Club, the first all-US feature (though not the first English-language one) from Jean-Marc Vallée. He first made a splash in 2005 with C.R.A.Z.Y., which seemed an archetype of the flashy, coming-of-age themed debut feature — even if, in fact, it took him 42 years and three prior features to get there.

Like fellow Quebecker Denis Villeneuve (of Prisoners and 2010’s Incendies), Vallée has evolved beyond flashiness, or maybe since C.R.A.Z.Y. he just hasn’t had a subject that seemed to call for it. Which is not to say Dallas is entirely sober — its characters partake from the gamut of altering substances, over-the-counter and otherwise. But this is a movie about AIDS, so the purely recreational good times must eventually crash to an end.

Which they do pretty quickly. We first meet Ron Woodroof (Matthew McConaughey) in 1986, when he’s living one kind of red-blooded American Dream: a Texas good ol’ boy working the rodeo circuit, chasing skirts, partying nonstop. Not feeling quite right, he visits a doctor, who informs him that he is HIV-positive and probably has no more than 30 days left on this mortal plane. His response is “I ain’t no faggot, motherfucker” — and increased partying that he barely survives.

Afterward, he pulls himself together enough to visit somewhere you suspect he’s seldom been before — the public library — and research his options. It appears the only significant treatment drug is AZT, which isn’t even on the market yet; it’s just being tested on patient groups he’d be lucky to be a part of. Being a born hustler disinterested in such formal roadblocks, Ron simply bribes a hospital attendant into raiding its trial supply for him. But Ron discovers the hard way what many first-generation AIDS patients did — that AZT is itself toxic, and in the high doses originally administered could cause much more harm than good to embattled immune systems.

He ends up in a Mexican clinic run by a disgraced American physician (Griffin Dunne) who doesn’t have to bother with the more stringent drug regulations up north, and in any case recommends a regime consisting mostly of vitamins and herbal treatments. Reasonably hale again after three months, Woodroof realizes a commercial opportunity here: He can smuggle such variably legal supplies in bulk to those who’ll pay any price for some hope back home in Texas. Yes, they’re mostly fay-guts. But a buck is a buck.

Finding he’s viewed with high suspicion peddling his wares to a plague-embattled gay community, he acquires as liaison and business partner Rayon (Jared Leto), a willowy cross-dresser in the Candy Darling mode who won’t tolerate his homophobia, but requires considerable tolerance for his/her non medicinal drug usage. When the authorities keep cracking down on their trade, savvy Ron takes a cue from gay activists in Manhattan and creates a law-evading “buyers club,” in which members pay monthly dues rather than paying directly for pharmaceutical goods.

It’s a tale that the scenarists (Craig Borten and Melisa Wallack) and director steep in deep Texan atmospherics (even if they had to shoot in Louisiana, presumably for tax-break purposes), like 2011’s memorable McConaughey-featuring true story Bernie. Largely through his friendship of necessity with Rayon (and his own shunning by old friends who gay-bait the second his health news gets out), the actor’s character here develops a certain broader-minded tolerance — a softening of prejudice that is the film’s major emotional arc. (There’s also a developing quasi-romance with Jennifer Garner as a sympathetic doc, but that feels somewhat gratuitous, partly because Garner is the kind of not-bad actress who nevertheless seldom brings authenticity to the table.) Much has been made of the extreme weight loss McConaughey and Leto undertook to play their roles. In Leto’s case, the transformation is impressive all around; in the McConaughey’s, he isn’t doing anything he hasn’t done variations on before, though it’s admirable how he refuses to make this protagonist any more charming than needed to get business done. We’re meant to buy that Woodroof eventually redeems himself in heart as well as deeds. But the line that rings truest is when he snaps “We’re not running a goddamn charity!” in turning down desperate HIV-positive men short on their subscription fees. Only self-preservation forces him out of his manly-man’s world of unsafe sex with shady ladies, among other high-risk behaviors. The therapies that save his own skin are shared with others (at least at first) only for the sake of the bottom line.

But then, plenty of innovators and benefactors of mankind have been cutthroat profiteers — look at Edison, for instance. While it takes itself seriously when and where it ought, Dallas Buyers Club is a movie by a Canadian whose frequent, entertaining jauntiness is based in that most American value of get-rich-quick entrepreneurship. *

 

DALLAS BUYERS CLUB opens Fri/8 in San Francisco.

Hi, Guy

Michael Redmond
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1
Hi, Guy

Guy Gerber is blowing his nose. A lot. He’s also trying to talk to me, through a massive hangover, over the phone from NYC. His chopped-up vocal snippets, mashed into long expulsions of compressed air, spiked with a woman’s giggle, rustling sheets, and clanking bottles somewhere in the background of his room, could almost be one of his driving, hypnotic, yet always surprisingly human, techno tracks. Good lord, even this protean dance music creator’s phlegmatic exudations are musical.

Honk. “We played somewhere in Brooklyn for Halloween last night, you know, in these ridiculous outfits. And then there were mischiefs,” he says. Brooklyn is a temporary homebase for the constantly on-the-go Supplement Fact label honcho — he’s opening a warehouse club in Williamsburg called Verboten soon — but the hyperactive Israeli underground star, ever restless in style and spirit, can’t stay in one place for long. He’ll be performing a hybrid live-DJ set this weekend at Public Works (Fri/8, 9:30-3:30, $16 advance, 161 Erie, SF. www.publicsf.com).

Appropriately for someone who came to techno via Joy Division and My Bloody Valentine, Gerber’s sonic imprint is as peripatetic as his ever-touring lifestyle: from moody, psychedelic electronic grooves and introspective Visionquest-style tech-house to the large-screen, crisply atmospheric “emotive” techno slices like “Stoppage Time” and “Timing” that made his name in the late 2000s. This year has been banner: Gerber was one of the major forces in Ibiza pushing back against EDM commercialization with his deep and surreal Wisdom of the Glove parties; his captivatingly intelligent September BBC Radio1 Essential Mix (my favorite mix of the year so far) refines and expands his dreamy post-minimal sound; and new releases with Clarian (“Claire”) and Dixon (“No Distance”) are gorgeous.

And then there’s that fabled collaboration with P. Diddy(!), 11:11, that may finally see the light of day. “I think Puff Daddy’s at the point where he’s finally ready to release something this deep to the world, and I just keep taking us deeper and weirder. But he completely trusts me,” the hyperproductive Gerber, who can toss off enough quality tunes to fill a stream in a blink, says about the long-delayed album. (The 2011 Jamie Jones remix of 11:11 leak “Tourist Trap” is what I wish pop music sounded like.)

On top of that, there’s the burden/privilege of being the only major Israeli DJ on the underground techno circuit. “It gets lonely. Techno’s supposed to be this global thing and I’m all over the world, even back in Tel Aviv a lot, which is great, but it feels like I’m the only one,” he says. “I’m proud to represent Israel, though of course I don’t agree with everything. I feel I want to represent less the country than the region, which shares these values of love and family while always being honest with their emotions. Sometimes too honest,” he laughs.

And what about the future? Has he composed three tracks and planned another tour while we’re talking on the phone? “Marke, right now my only concern is to get past this hangover.” Honk.

 

SANDRA ELECTRONICS

Karl O’Connor aka Regis and Juan Mendez aka Silent Servant dive into synthy darkness with this stunning live collaborative project, with roots in the 1990s. In Aeternum Vale and Veronica Vasicka round out this Minimal Wave label showcase at the new Surface Tension party.

Fri/8, 10pm, $15. Project One Gallery, 251 Rhode Island, SF. st001.eventbrite.com/

 

BEARS LOVE HONEY

There is a thing called Bear Pride Week going on right now; in typical fashion this Honey Soundsystem party both lauds and gooses the concept, with striking Berlin techno-soul DJ/singer Virginia and randy Roman DJ Hugo Sanchez of Alien Alien.

Fri/8, 10pm-4am, $15 advance. Beatbox, 314 11th St, SF. bearslovehoney.eventbrite.com

 

KAFANA BALKAN

Time once again for this insanely fun Balkan-themed stomp and whirl, where you’ll hear more time-signatures in one night (mostly all at once) than you’ll hear all year. DJ Zeljko leads the mad charge, with the Inspector Gadje brass band and Jill Parker’s bellydancers in tow. Arrive early.

Sat/9, 9pm, $15. Balancoire, 2565 Mission, SF. kafanabalkan.eventbrite.com

 

MAD PROFESSOR

No words to describe my love for the genius Guyanese godfather of dub. The prof’s about to school us, too — his “Roots of Dubstep” tour digs deep, deep into his 30-year DJ and recording career to show what’s what. At the excellent Dub Mission weekly.

Sun/10, 9pm, $15–$20. Elbo Room, 647 Valencia, SF. www.dubmissionsf.com

 

SF ALBUM PROJECT

Every two months a wonderfully inventive, theatrical troupe of drag queens performs an entire album you’d never think would benefit from drag treatment (OK Computer, Parade) — but it works! Next up: Roxy Music by Roxy Music.

Sun/10, doors at 8pm, $15. The Chapel, 777 Valencia, SF. www.thechapelsf.com

 

Living legend

Michael Redmond
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0
Living legend

arts@sfbg.com

DANCE When ODC opened its new theater in 2010, Brenda Way’s Architecture of Light celebrated the building’s bones and its potential for dance. This past weekend, the Los Angeles-based Rosanna Gamson/World Wide took over the whole complex for Layla Means Night, a feast of non-linear storytelling through dance, narrative, music, design, food, and drink. For this incarnation, the company brought richly detailed sets and costumes, excellent dancer-actors, and a first-rate trio of Persian musicians. They also made fine use of ODC Dance Jam’s teen dancers, whose poise and competence should be the envy of many a professional.

That said, not everything worked: A physical spelling of the difference between Arabic and Roman script fell flat. A solo for a caged bride in a white shift felt like filler. The celebratory finale looked thrown together. And the piece was slow getting off the ground.

Layla is a 70-minute work about power, specifically feminine power, inspired by Scheherazade, the heroine of 1,001 Nights, the collection of Middle Eastern and Indian folk tales, with which the heroine kept herself alive one more night because the king wanted to hear one more story. While she saves herself and other potential brides, the work does not address her transformative power to turn the king into a loving human being. (That was left to Alonzo King’s 2009 Scheherazade.) Gamson structured Layla into a number of distinct episodes whose sequences you watched according to your assigned group: men, women, or mixed. Just like a tourist, you followed a guide, traipsing up and down the theater’s three floors. While waiting to be admitted to the next attraction, you could catch aural cues of what other people were seeing. It certainly raised your curiosity, something this Scheherazade has also learned.

Layla‘s episodes formed a marvelously rich tapestry, the details of which constantly elicited admiration. Even though the jumbling of sequences felt distracting, they ultimately coalesced into a loosely structured but convincing theatrical experience. You can’t ask for much more.

Initially, young women offered to wash your hands, or offered a mimosa. Dominating this congeniality was an implacable Carin Noland, whose cleaver came down (on oranges) with the inevitability of a clock. Later, when you heard a rooster crow? Down came that ax. Gamson’s six women dancers, in blood red shifts, wove through the evening in almost Grahamesque modern dance, softened by a liquid use of the torso and the eloquent hands. You saw them as shadows, peering through drapes or striding and howling.

Balancing these particular images of female power was ODC’s teen Dance Jam. Lined up in a countdown of brides, they stepped into individual solos until they hit the floor and a communal handclap substituted for the ax falling. In the finale, they looked fresh and yet so professional in folkloric-inspired couple and circle dances. In another section, an overlapping trio of similar gestures in what looked like a cage looked less convincing.

In her confrontation with the King (a fierce C. Derrick Jones III), Gabrielle Rhodeen’s Scheherazade posed straightforward questions about sex that were both alluring and cleverly manipulative. Her white costume looked like a mixture of wedding dress and boudoir gown. If Layla had a single dramatic highpoint, it would have been the explosive cat-and-mouse game between these two dueling characters.

Layla is a piece that asks the audience to make decisions. Did you really want to accept a slice of orange when you knew where it came from? Two of the gorgeous sets — one a tent-like red hexagonal, the other a fragile, white paper cylinder — had slits in them. You had to step up and look in. Did this make you a voyeur? For me it did. I think this was Gamson’s way of making the audience not only participate in but also become complicit in the action.

Perhaps Layla’s most uncomfortable section involved our all-women’s group walking into the theater proper. The men were seated and blindfolded while the teen dancers whispered into their ears. It was creepy. Again, did we become participants in whatever was going on by watching this?

The ongoing offering of food and drink — appealing to the sense of taste, something not usually satisfied in the theater — was another way in which Gamson tried to pull the audience into her work. It raised, of course, the question on just how willing an audience member was to step out of his or her observer role.

A gorgeously laid out banquet table was used very little. It’s where Gamson asked for an account of a life-changing moment after having recounted a seminal one in her own life. She wanted us to share. Only one did (in writing). Nor did anybody follow the invitation to enter the final celebratory dance. Maybe there’s a reason why we have performers and observers: They need each other, but don’t necessarily want to change roles. *

 

Psychic Dream: Oct. 30-Nov. 5, 2013

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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0

Oct. 30-Nov.5, 2013

Blame all of your communication problems on Mercury while you can; it’s Retrograde till the 10th
 
ARIES
March 21-April 19
Anxiety is like quicksand in the landscape of your awesomeness, Aries. If you feel overwhelmed by uncertainties this week, try to redirect your focus onto what you do know. Don’t strike out when you feel screwed up in the insides. The best way to learn about your habits of self-sabotage is to catch them in action.

­TAURUS
April 20-May 20
Enjoy the love and intimacy that you have in your life, Taurus. This week your ability to stay present with the good stuff is being tested, especially when it’s outside of your comfort zone. Don’t let your fear of change damn the flow of your life. Staying open and discerning for maximum security and joyfulness.

GEMINI
May 21-June 21
You know all about every corner of the problems that are on your mind; you’ve looked at your concerns from every angle already. Make peace with your troubles so you can finally say sayonara; see you never! to them. Don’t wallow, Twin Star, ‘cause wallowing is so 2011. Move on.

CANCER
June 22-July 22
You don’t need to know if what you’re doing is “right”, you only need to know if it’s right for you, Cancer. You’re trying to see things from other people’s perspectives, but that’s all wrong. Be honest with yourself about what you need based on where you are at, so even if you make a mistake, it’s an honest one you can learn from.

LEO
July 23-Aug. 22
It’s friendship time, Leo! Invest your formidable energy into your platonic relationships this week, and make sure you pick a few brains about what you’re doing while you’re at it. This is a great time to get feedback about how you’re handling your life from the folks that know and love you.

VIRGO
Aug. 23-Sept. 22
You may succeed or you may fail, but there’s no getting around risk this week, Virgo. If you’re doing something that means enough to you to go for it, then it’s worth some daring, too. Challenge yourself to focus on the potential instead of the dangers in front of you. Invest in the possibility!

LIBRA
Sept. 23-Oct. 22
You can’t turn to others for everything, Libra. Or rather, you can, but it doesn’t make you an especially strong or resourceful person. Despite your fears and uncertainties, this is an excellent week to stand up on your own two feet. Trust in your instincts and see where they take you, pal.

SCORPIO
Oct. 23-Nov. 21
You cannot control the world (oh! and how the world suffers for it!), but you can take ownership of your self. Take stock of your participation in matters with humility, Scorpio. The only way to create the life you want is to be the person you want to be, be damned any pettiness that tries to get in your way.

SAGITTARIUS
Nov. 22-Dec. 21
There are no victims or perpetrators, and you, Sir/Madame, are not a martyr. We are all people doing our best; even those who utterly suck are doing their best! Keep your ego out of dynamics this week, and keep your attention trained on accepting others where they’re at. Resist unnecessary power plays.

CAPRICORN
Dec. 22-Jan. 19
If you stop trying to project into the future or magically change the past you might get more headway in your present, dear Cappy. Your homework this week is to find the pleasure in everything you do, no matter how routine or annoying it may be. Change your attitude to see what else changes, pal.

AQUARIUS
Jan. 20-Feb. 18
Sometimes the strongest weapon at your disposal is TLC, Aquarius. This week you can fight, analyze or pontificate, but nothing will work as well as compassion. Practice seeing things through a lense of generosity and kindness, whether you’re looking at yourself, your allies, or your enemies.

PISCES
Feb. 19-March 20
Don’t add to the chaos in your life by being another Negative Nancy this week. If you don’t have something creative to add to the conversation you may need to take a time out until you do. Remember why you care and don’t let your fears stop you from going from participating wholeheartedly. Realign with what motivates you.
Want more in-depth, intuitive or astrological advice from Jessica? Schedule a one-one-one reading that can be done in person or by phone. Visit www.lovelanyadoo.com

The art of dialogue

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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1
The art of dialogue

arts@sfbg.com

THEATER Maybe there’s no better way to grasp your own time and place than by leaving it — in this case, trading San Francisco for Wroclaw, Poland, and Pacific Standard Time for a whiplashing case of jet lag. Wroclaw was home base for a little more than a week during the recent Dialog Festival (Oct. 11–18; dialogfestival.pl/en), which was in its seventh season as a major biennial international theater festival created and programmed by Krystyna Meissner, a force in Polish and European theater for decades.

Joining a cohort of Americans, including several from the Bay Area, most of whom had been invited to the festival by the Center for International Theatre Development (an organization with which I’ve recently become formally associated), we were treated to work by artists from Poland, Germany, Holland, South Africa, Rwanda, Estonia, Iran, Canada, Mexico, Spain, and Hungary. The topic this year, “Violence makes the world go ’round,” was a proposition answered variously and often ingeniously by the productions on offer. The best of these expertly delivered that consciousness-altering blow you want from theater or any art form, as well as much food for thought — not only about the reality of violence in the world today, but the place in it all of the artist, the individual, the public, the spectator, and the theater itself.

For now, one example will have to suffice: a staging of British playwright Sarah Kane’s 1998 play, Cleansed, by Polish director Krzysztof Warlikowski. This was actually one of two separate stagings of the same play in the festival this year; the other was by renowned Dutch director Johan Simons, working with Germany’s Münchner Kammerspiele, who offered three Kane plays in a single evening. (It was also one of two pieces from Warlikowski at the festival, the other being his latest work, Warsaw Cabaret.)

Warlikowski is widely known as one of the masters of the Polish theater today, and his staging of the Kane play is still in demand 12 years after its controversial premiere in 2001. Seeing this legendary production was an extraordinary opportunity, and its impact was in no way diminished by the hype.

Cleansed comprises a discrete set of scenes in which a sadistic “doctor” named Tinker perpetrates vicious humiliations and atrocities on a group of inmates. Among the latter is a grieving woman who has entered the doctor’s wicked sanatorium to commune with the spirit of her dead brother, a heroin addict murdered gruesomely by Tinker in an early scene. There is also a gay couple whose commitment to each other is brutally tested by the awful interventions of Tinker.

Warlikowski’s production unfolds as a harrowing yet gorgeously languid fever dream. Set on a small stage, with an institutional bathroom wall at the back, the strikingly crisp and potent images throughout distort in the reflective surfaces bounding the space. Often drowned in a shifting sea of garish light, accentuated with piercingly beautiful music (the songs derived from the text are sung in the original English), the stage nevertheless leaves ample room for brilliant performances. These deftly created characters and relationships speak eloquently to the deep compassion and understanding there throughout Kane’s penetrating nightmare. (In a seductive and telling move, Warlikowski tacks on a monologue about desperate love, taken from Kane’s Crave, at the outset of the evening.)

Kane’s own productive extremes as a playwright — her cool formal intelligence and invention, as well as her anguished, aching, and uncompromising vision — were served perfectly by the precise and enveloping aesthetic of this exquisite production. But what was it that brought this play and this director together in the first place? And what was the nature of its early impact? In a talkback with the director the following day, a Polish journalist and critic helped set the scene.

“I saw Cleansed many years ago,” he remembered, “at a time when the LGBT movement in Poland was just coming out of the closet. At the time, it was truly a shocking piece. Now it’s a piece that I’m proud of. I’m proud to see how much has changed. Back in the day, the mayor of Warsaw tried to ban the Pride parade and there was only one politician who dared to show up. I remember there being several hundred of us, separated by a double line of police officers — mind you, the demonstration was legal — and above the heads of the police officers, stones were flying at us.”

Warlikowski recalled, “After the first reading we gave up on it. I decided we wouldn’t do Cleansed but do Hamlet instead. It’s a little difficult to imagine now, but I was really shattered by the stones flying at participants of the LGBT Pride Parade. We were working on Angels in America in some dingy little basement. I felt excluded. I felt like I was underground. Groups of women would roam the streets and tear down the posters for Cleansed. Director Krystyna Meissner would go around town to keep them from being torn down.

“I added the monologue from Crave because I thought that would be the only way to get Polish theatergoers to see the piece. The first response was horrible. Whereas people saw the dismemberment as theatrical and acceptable, they were more offended by two guys kissing, and people would get up and leave the room. That’s not something we can really understand today. So there had to be this ten-minute monologue, speaking of love, to trick you into staying for the rest.

“I remember watching the show sitting next to a couple, probably a yuppie couple, new middle-class, in their late 30s. During the first monologue, the woman never looked up. I felt I was embarrassing her. And for the Catholic nation that we still are, it was a lot to expect. Hence all the embellishments, everything that brings in a dimension that makes the dialogue possible — dialogue with the piece and dialogue with society.” *

 

For more on the Dialog festival, visit www.sfbg.com/pixel_vision.

Music Listings: Oct. 30-Nov 5

Tony Robles
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WEDNESDAY 30
ROCK
Bottom of the Hill: 1233 17th St., San Francisco. Oceanography, Timothy Robert Graham, Buzzmutt, 9 p.m., $8.
Brick & Mortar Music Hall: 1710 Mission, San Francisco. Cellar Doors, Mr. Elevator & The Brain Hotel, The Spiral Electric, DJs Joel Gion & Darragh Skelton, 9 p.m., $6-$10.
Cafe Du Nord: 2170 Market, San Francisco. Lee DeWyze, Jeff Conley, 8 p.m., $18-$60.
El Rio: 3158 Mission, San Francisco. Big Baby Guru, Just People, The Beggars Who Give, 8 p.m., $8.
Elbo Room: 647 Valencia, San Francisco. Nobunny, Mongoloid, Shannon & The Clams with Russell Quan, 9:30 p.m., $8.
Hemlock Tavern: 1131 Polk, San Francisco. Battle of the Network Cover Bands, w/ The Booze Brothers, Lady Stardust, Th Mrcy Hot Sprngs, 8:30 p.m., $6.
Hotel Utah: 500 Fourth St., San Francisco. Fast Romantics, Mise en Scene, Bears for Sharks, 8 p.m., $8-$10.
The Knockout: 3223 Mission, San Francisco. Dancer, Crez DeeDee, Jerks, DJ Ryan Smith, 9:30 p.m., $6.
Rickshaw Stop: 155 Fell, San Francisco. Kevin Devine & The Goddamn Band; Now, Now; Jonah’s Onelinedrawing; Harrison Hudson, 8 p.m., $13-$15.
DANCE
The Cafe: 2369 Market, San Francisco. “Sticky Wednesdays,” w/ DJ Mark Andrus, 8 p.m., free.
Cat Club: 1190 Folsom, San Francisco. “Bondage A Go Go,” w/ DJs Damon, Tomas Diablo, & guests, 9:30 p.m., $5-$10.
Club X: 715 Harrison, San Francisco. Electro Pop Rocks: CarnEvil, 18+ dance party with St. John, Jays One, Harris Pilton, Sound It Out, Linx, more, 9 p.m.
The EndUp: 401 Sixth St., San Francisco. “Tainted Techno Trance,” 10 p.m.
F8: 1192 Folsom St., San Francisco. Housepitality Halloween, w/ Daniel Bell, Tyrel Williams, Miguel Solari, Joel Conway, Fil Latorre, 9 p.m., $5-$10.
Harlot: 46 Minna, San Francisco. “Qoöl,” 5 p.m.
Infusion Lounge: 124 Ellis, San Francisco. “Indulgence,” 10 p.m.
Lookout: 3600 16th St., San Francisco. “What?,” w/ resident DJ Tisdale and guests, 7 p.m., free.
Madrone Art Bar: 500 Divisadero, San Francisco. “Rock the Spot,” 9 p.m., free.
MatrixFillmore: 3138 Fillmore, San Francisco. “Reload,” w/ DJ Big Bad Bruce, 10 p.m., free.
Milk Bar: 1840 Haight, San Francisco. Powwoww, Witowmaker, Bubblegum Crisis, The Early Days of Aviation, 8:30 p.m., $5.
Monarch: 101 6th St., San Francisco. The Overlook 3D, w/ Meikee Magnetic, Brycie Bones, DJ Fact.50, 9:30 p.m., $5-$10 (free before 10:30 p.m.).
Q Bar: 456 Castro, San Francisco. “Booty Call,” w/ Juanita More, Joshua J, guests, 9 p.m., $3.
Ruby Skye: 420 Mason, San Francisco. Freak Circus: Day 4, w/ Arty, 9 p.m., $25-$30 advance.
Slide: 430 Mason, San Francisco. Gatsby: Halloween at Slide, w/ Crazibiza, 9 p.m.
HIP-HOP
Double Dutch: 3192 16th St., San Francisco. “Cash IV Gold,” w/ DJs Kool Karlo, Roost Uno, and Sean G, 10 p.m., free.
Skylark Bar: 3089 16th St., San Francisco. “Mixtape Wednesday,” w/ resident DJs Strategy, Junot, Herb Digs, & guests, 9 p.m., $5.
ACOUSTIC
Bazaar Cafe: 5927 California, San Francisco. Acoustic Guitar Showcase, w/ Teja Gerken, 7 p.m.
Cafe Divine: 1600 Stockton, San Francisco. Craig Ventresco & Meredith Axelrod, 7 p.m., free.
Club Deluxe: 1511 Haight, San Francisco. Happy Hour Bluegrass, 6:30 p.m., free.
Johnny Foley’s Irish House: 243 O’Farrell St., San Francisco. Terry Savastano, Every other Wednesday, 9 p.m., free.
Plough & Stars: 116 Clement, San Francisco. The Toast Inspectors, Last Wednesday of every month, 9 p.m.
JAZZ
Amnesia: 853 Valencia, San Francisco. Gaucho, Eric Garland’s Jazz Session, The Amnesiacs, 7 p.m., free.
Burritt Room: 417 Stockton St., San Francisco. Terry Disley’s Rocking Jazz Trio, 6 p.m., free.
Cafe Royale: 800 Post, San Francisco. Negative Press Project, 9 p.m.
Jazz Bistro At Les Joulins: 44 Ellis, San Francisco. Charles Unger Experience, 7:30 p.m., free.
Le Colonial: 20 Cosmo, San Francisco. The Cosmo Alleycats featuring Ms. Emily Wade Adams, 7 p.m., free.
Martuni’s: 4 Valencia, San Francisco. Tom Shaw Trio, Last Wednesday of every month, 7 p.m., $7.
Oz Lounge: 260 Kearny, San Francisco. Hard Bop Collective, 6 p.m., free.
Pier 23 Cafe: Pier 23, San Francisco. Macy Blackman, 6 p.m., free.
Savanna Jazz Club: 2937 Mission, San Francisco. “Cat’s Corner,” 9 p.m., $10.
Sheba Piano Lounge: 1419 Fillmore, San Francisco. Sebastian Parker Trio, 8 p.m.
Top of the Mark: One Nob Hill, 999 California, San Francisco. Ricardo Scales, Wednesdays, 6:30-11:30 p.m., $5.
Zingari: 501 Post, San Francisco. Linda Kosut, 7:30 p.m., free.
INTERNATIONAL
Bissap Baobab: 3372 19th St., San Francisco. Timba Dance Party, w/ DJ WaltDigz, 10 p.m., $5.
Cafe Cocomo: 650 Indiana, San Francisco. “Bachatalicious,” w/ DJs Good Sho & Rodney, 7 p.m., $5-$10.
Make-Out Room: 3225 22nd St., San Francisco. “International Freakout A Go-Go,” 10 p.m., free.
Pachamama Restaurant: 1630 Powell, San Francisco. 15th Annual Halloween Party with Freddy Clarke & Wobbly World, 8 p.m.
BLUES
Biscuits and Blues: 401 Mason, San Francisco. The Hound Kings, 7 & 9 p.m., $15.
The Saloon: 1232 Grant, San Francisco. Jose Simioni, 9:30 p.m.
Tupelo: 1337 Green St., San Francisco. Chris Cobb, 9:30 p.m.
EXPERIMENTAL
Meridian Gallery: 535 Powell, San Francisco. Maria Chavez, Beauty School, 7:30 p.m.
SOUL
The Royal Cuckoo: 3202 Mission, San Francisco. Freddie Hughes & Chris Burns, 7:30 p.m., free.
THURSDAY 31
ROCK
Boom Boom Room: 1601 Fillmore, San Francisco. Talking Heads Halloween Bash with Naive Melodies, 9:30 p.m., $8-$10.
Bottom of the Hill: 1233 17th St., San Francisco. Halloween Show with La Plebe, The Re-Volts, Ruleta Rusa, Bum City Saints, 9 p.m., $12.
Cafe Du Nord: 2170 Market, San Francisco. The Shondes, Naive Americans, The Galloping Sea, 8:30 p.m., $7.
The Chapel: 777 Valencia St., San Francisco. Bobb Saggeth, Haight Breeders, 9 p.m., $12-$16.
Connecticut Yankee: 100 Connecticut, San Francisco. Halloween Party with Steel Hotcakes, The Insufferables, plus a costume contest, 9:15 p.m., free.
Hemlock Tavern: 1131 Polk, San Francisco. Ultra Bide, Lord Dying, Tiger Honey Pot, 8:30 p.m., $8.
Hotel Utah: 500 Fourth St., San Francisco. The Beards, The Wave Commission, Wild Ass, 9 p.m., $12-$15.
The Knockout: 3223 Mission, San Francisco. Kill Yr Idols, Kiss Me on the Butt, Jesus Fuck, Pyl-It-On, 9:30 p.m., $6.
Rickshaw Stop: 155 Fell, San Francisco. Popscene: Popscream Halloween 2013, w/ North American Scum, Bang On, plus DJs, Aaron, Omar, and Miles, 9:30 p.m., $10.
Thee Parkside: 1600 17th St., San Francisco. Hallorager II, w/ Glitter Wizard, Twin Steps, Mr. Elevator & The Brain Hotel, more, 9 p.m., $8.
DANCE
1015 Folsom: 1015 Folsom St., San Francisco. Mad Hatters Ball, w/ R.L. Grime, Tourist, DJ Funeral, Gladkill, Noah D, Sugarpill, DJ Dials, Goldrush, Astronautica, more, 10 p.m., $20 advance.
Abbey Tavern: 4100 Geary, San Francisco. DJ Schrobi-Girl, 10 p.m., free.
Audio Discotech: 316 11th St., San Francisco. Halloween Night with Marcus Schössow, Tall Sasha, 9:30 p.m., $15 advance.
Aunt Charlie’s Lounge: 133 Turk, San Francisco. “Tubesteak Connection,” w/ DJ Bus Station John, 9 p.m., $5-$7.
Beaux: 2344 Market, San Francisco. Heklina’s Halloween Costume Contest, w/ DJ Kidd Sysko, 9 p.m.
The Cafe: 2369 Market, San Francisco. Sugar: All Hallows’ Eve, 9 p.m.
Cat Club: 1190 Folsom, San Francisco. “Throwback Thursdays,” ‘80s night with DJs Damon, Steve Washington, Dangerous Dan, and guests, 9 p.m., $6 (free before 9:30 p.m.).
The Cellar: 685 Sutter, San Francisco. Dungeon, w/ Romeo Reyes, J-Trip, St. John, 10 p.m., $15-$30; “XO,” w/ DJs Astro & Rose, 10 p.m., $5.
Chambers Eat + Drink: 601 Eddy, San Francisco. Ritual x Haus: A Halloween Party, w/ Bixu, Azin Ash, Siouxsie Black, Chrissie Six, 9 p.m., $5 (free with costume).
Club X: 715 Harrison, San Francisco. “The Crib,” 9:30 p.m., $10, 18+.
DNA Lounge: 375 11th St., San Francisco. All Hallow’s Eve, 18+ dance party with DJs Zach Moore, KidHack, A+D, Santa Muerte, Blondie K, subOctave, Shindog, Mitch, BaconMonkey, Decay, Joe Radio, and Netik, 9 p.m., $13 advance.
F8: 1192 Folsom St., San Francisco. No Way Back + Honey Soundsystem Halloween, w/ Willie Burns, Split Secs, Robot Hustle, Conor, P-Play, Jason Kendig, Solar, Josh Cheon, 10 p.m., $5-$20.
Harlot: 46 Minna, San Francisco. Monster Mash, w/ DJ Spider & The Schmidt, 9 p.m., $10-$30 advance.
Infusion Lounge: 124 Ellis, San Francisco. “I Love Thursdays,” 10 p.m., $10.
Lookout: 3600 16th St., San Francisco. The Drunk Tank: An Underwater Halloween Adventure, w/ DJ Russ Rich, 8 p.m., $8.
Madrone Art Bar: 500 Divisadero, San Francisco. Halloween Night Fever, w/ DJs Jerry Nice & Sonny Phono, 9 p.m., $5 after 10 p.m.
Manor West: 750 Harrison, San Francisco. Villains & Vixens, w/ J. Espinosa, The Les, 10 p.m., $20.
Mezzanine: 444 Jessie, San Francisco. Lights Down Low, w/ The Magician, Tensnake, Andre Bratten, Richie Panic, Sleazemore, 9 p.m., $25-$40.
Mighty: 119 Utah, San Francisco. Black Mammoth, w/ Gravity, Derek Hena, Galen, DJ Kramer, Josh Vincent, A.M. Rebel, Miguel Solari, Tyrel Williams, DJ Dane, DJ Alvaro, Mystr/Hatchet, Wobs, Christopher Charles, 9 p.m., $10 before 10 p.m.
Milk Bar: 1840 Haight, San Francisco. A Nightmare on Haight Street, w/ DJ Vin Sol., 9 p.m., $5.
Monarch: 101 6th St., San Francisco. Green Gorilla Lounge: The Monster Mash, w/ Heidi, DJ M3, Anthony Mansfield, Jimmy B, Sharon Buck, Greer, Mozhgan, Davi A, 9 p.m., $10-$20.
The Parlor: 2801 Leavenworth, San Francisco. Halloween Hoedown, w/ Chris Clouse, 9 p.m., $7-$15.
Project One: 251 Rhode Island, San Francisco. Back2Back: 9-Year Anniversary – Halloween Edition, w/ DJs Jenö & Garth, 8 p.m.
Public Works: 161 Erie, San Francisco. M-nus Monster Mash, w/ Gaiser, Matador, Hobo, 9 p.m., $15-$20.
Q Bar: 456 Castro, San Francisco. “Throwback Thursday,” w/ DJ Jay-R, 9 p.m., free.
Raven: 1151 Folsom St., San Francisco. “1999,” w/ VJ Mark Andrus, 8 p.m., free.
Ruby Skye: 420 Mason, San Francisco. Freak Circus: Day 5, w/ Jack Beats, Bones, 9 p.m., $20-$30 advance.
San Francisco Belle: 3 Pier, San Francisco. S.S. Crowdtilt, w/ Traviswild, DJ Purple, American Tripps ping-pong, open bars, more, 9 p.m., $65-$75.
Slide: 430 Mason, San Francisco. Gatsby: Halloween at Slide, w/ DJ Midnight SF, Zhaldee, Grandwizard, Duy Pham, 9 p.m.
Supperclub San Francisco: 657 Harrison, San Francisco. Beautiful Nightmare, w/ DJ Chris White, 10 p.m., $15 advance.
Temple: 540 Howard, San Francisco. Detonate: Halloween Thriller, 18+ dance party with Goshfather & Jinco, Indo, Tigran, GLSS, 10 p.m., $15.
The Tunnel Top: 601 Bush, San Francisco. “Tunneltop,” DJs Avalon and Derek ease you into the weekend with a cool and relaxed selection of tunes spun on vinyl, 10 p.m., free.
Underground SF: 424 Haight, San Francisco. “Bubble,” 10 p.m., free.
Vessel: 85 Campton, San Francisco. Base: Halloween, w/ Pete Tong, 10 p.m.
W San Francisco: 181 Third St., San Francisco. Saints and Sinners, 10 p.m.
HIP-HOP
111 Minna Gallery: 111 Minna St., San Francisco. My Boo, w/ Neil Armstrong, DJ Shortkut, Ry Toast, Prince Aries, Royce, Chauee, 9 p.m., $10.
Atmosphere: 447 Broadway, San Francisco. Thriller on Broadway: Halloween Night Extravaganza, w/ DJs Mind Motion, Supreme, and Momix, 10 p.m., $10 advance.
Eastside West: 3154 Fillmore, San Francisco. “Throwback Thursdays,” w/ DJ Madison, 9 p.m., free.
The EndUp: 401 Sixth St., San Francisco. “Cypher,” w/ resident DJ Big Von, 10 p.m., $5-$10.
Park 77 Sports Bar: 77 Cambon, San Francisco. “Slap N Tite,” w/ resident Cali King Crab DJs Sabotage Beats & Jason Awesome, free.
Skylark Bar: 3089 16th St., San Francisco. “Peaches,” w/lady DJs DeeAndroid, Lady Fingaz, That Girl, Umami, Inkfat, and Andre, 10 p.m., free.
Yoshi’s San Francisco: 1330 Fillmore, San Francisco. Freaks & Beats 2013, w/ DJs D-Sharp, Apollo, Sake One, Mr. E, and Ruby Red I (in Yoshi’s lounge), 10:30 p.m., $10 advance.
ACOUSTIC
Amnesia: 853 Valencia, San Francisco. Halloween with Rube Waddell, Sour Mash Hug Band, The Barbary Ghosts, 9 p.m., $10-$15.
Bazaar Cafe: 5927 California, San Francisco. Acoustic Open Mic, 7 p.m.
The Independent: 628 Divisadero, San Francisco. Elephant Revival, Allie Kral & The Morrison Brothers, 8 p.m., $16-$18.
Plough & Stars: 116 Clement, San Francisco. Halloween Costume Party with Crooked Road, 9 p.m.
Slim’s: 333 11th St., San Francisco. Boograss 2013: Hillbilly Halloween Hoedown, w/ The Pine Box Boys, The Fucking Buckaroos, The Harmed Brothers, Kemo Sabe, 9 p.m., $15.
JAZZ
Blush! Wine Bar: 476 Castro, San Francisco. Doug Martin’s Avatar Ensemble, 7:30 p.m., free.
Bottle Cap: 1707 Powell, San Francisco. The North Beach Sound with Ned Boynton, Jordan Samuels, and Tom Vickers, 7 p.m., free.
Cafe Claude: 7 Claude, San Francisco. Alex Conde Trio, 7:30 p.m., free.
Le Colonial: 20 Cosmo, San Francisco. Steve Lucky & The Rhumba Bums, 7:30 p.m.
Pier 23 Cafe: Pier 23, San Francisco. Snakebite & Friends, 7 p.m., free.
The Royal Cuckoo: 3202 Mission, San Francisco. Charlie Siebert & Chris Siebert, 7:30 p.m., free.
Savanna Jazz Club: 2937 Mission, San Francisco. Savanna Jazz Jam with Eddy Ramirez, 7:30 p.m., $5.
Top of the Mark: One Nob Hill, 999 California, San Francisco. Stompy Jones, 7:30 p.m., $10.
Zingari: 501 Post, San Francisco. Barbara Ochoa, 7:30 p.m., free.
INTERNATIONAL
Bissap Baobab: 3372 19th St., San Francisco. “Pa’Lante!,” w/ Juan G, El Kool Kyle, Mr. Lucky, 10 p.m., $5.
Cafe Cocomo: 650 Indiana, San Francisco. Special Halloween Night with N’Rumba, DJ Good Sho, DJ Hong, 8 p.m., $12.
Pachamama Restaurant: 1630 Powell, San Francisco. Flamenco Halloween Party, 8 p.m.; “Jueves Flamencos,” 8 p.m., free.
Sheba Piano Lounge: 1419 Fillmore, San Francisco. Latin Breeze, 8 p.m.
Verdi Club: 2424 Mariposa, San Francisco. The Verdi Club Milonga, w/ Christy Coté, DJ Emilio Flores, guests, 9 p.m., $10-$15.
REGGAE
Pissed Off Pete’s: 4528 Mission St., San Francisco. Reggae Thursdays, w/ resident DJ Jah Yzer, 9 p.m., free.
BLUES
50 Mason Social House: 50 Mason, San Francisco. Bill Phillippe, 5:30 p.m., free.
Biscuits and Blues: 401 Mason, San Francisco. R.J. Mischo, 7 & 9 p.m., $15.
Jazz Bistro At Les Joulins: 44 Ellis, San Francisco. Bohemian Knuckleboogie, 7:30 p.m., free.
The Saloon: 1232 Grant, San Francisco. Freddie Roulette, 4 p.m.; Carlos Guitarlos, 9:30 p.m.
EXPERIMENTAL
Center for New Music: 55 Taylor St., San Francisco. Ken Ueno, Tim Feeney, and Matt Ingalls, 7:30 p.m., $10-$15.
FUNK
Brick & Mortar Music Hall: 1710 Mission, San Francisco. Soul Discipilz, The Hogan Brothers, Extra Ordinary Astronauts, 9 p.m., free.
Elbo Room: 647 Valencia, San Francisco. Afrolicious: A Super Fly Halloween, w/ Afrolicious Band (performing Curtis Mayfield’s Super Fly soundtrack), plus DJs Still Life, Boogiemeister, Pleasuremaker, and Señor Oz, 9:30 p.m., $10-$15.
Yoshi’s San Francisco: 1330 Fillmore, San Francisco. Cameo’s Funky Halloween, 8 & 10 p.m., $46.
SOUL
Cigar Bar & Grill: 850 Montgomery, San Francisco. Halloween Party with Big Blu Soul Revue, 7:30 p.m., free.
FRIDAY 1
ROCK
50 Mason Social House: 50 Mason, San Francisco. Lemme Adams, Coo Coo Birds, Not Sure. Not Yet, Tall Fires, 8 p.m.
Amnesia: 853 Valencia, San Francisco. Ash Reiter, FpodBpod, Li Xi, 9 p.m., $7-$10.
Amoeba Music: 1855 Haight, San Francisco. Golden Void, 6 p.m., free.
Bottom of the Hill: 1233 17th St., San Francisco. Pirates Press Ninth Anniversary Weekend, w/ Street Dogs, Harrington Saints, Custom Fit, Sydney Ducks, 9 p.m., $15 (or $45 for 3-day pass).
Brick & Mortar Music Hall: 1710 Mission, San Francisco. Satan’s Pilgrims, The Gregors, The Deadbeats, 9 p.m., $12-$15.
Cafe Du Nord: 2170 Market, San Francisco. Battlehooch, Just People, Guy Fox, 9:30 p.m., $8-$10.
El Rio: 3158 Mission, San Francisco. Friday Live: The Dead Ships, DJ Emotions, 10 p.m., free.
Hemlock Tavern: 1131 Polk, San Francisco. Early Graves, Narrows, Glaciers, 9:30 p.m., $10.
Hotel Utah: 500 Fourth St., San Francisco. Lady Zep, Sordid Humor, Mental 99, 9 p.m., $10.
Red Devil Lounge: 1695 Polk, San Francisco. Stroke 9, Jackson Rohm, 9 p.m., $15.
Rickshaw Stop: 155 Fell, San Francisco. American Tripps Halloween/Día de los Muertos Party, w/ Still Flyin’ (as New Order), Honeymoon in Canada, DJ Beauregard, 8 p.m., $10-$12.
Sub-Mission Art Space (Balazo 18 Gallery): 2183 Mission, San Francisco. Inferno of Joy, Beast of England, Gozzard, Asada Messiah, Szandora LaVey, Miss Bella Trixx, 8 p.m., $7.
Thee Parkside: 1600 17th St., San Francisco. The Memorials, Gigantis, Bite, Gotaway Girl, 9 p.m., $10.
DANCE
1015 Folsom: 1015 Folsom St., San Francisco. “Witness 4.0,” w/ Cyril Hahn, Ryan Hemsworth, XXXY, Oneman, Henry Krinkle, Letherette, DJ Dials, Sleazemore, Richie Panic, Popgang, Pedro Arbulu, Kevvy Kev, 9 p.m., $17.50-$20 advance.
Amnesia: 853 Valencia, San Francisco. “Brass Tax,” w/ resident DJs JoeJoe, Ding Dong, Ernie Trevino, Mace, First Friday of every month, 10 p.m., $5.
Audio Discotech: 316 11th St., San Francisco. Amine Edge & Dance, Quinn Jerome, J. Remy, Glade Luco, 9 p.m., $20.
Balancoire: 2565 Mission St., San Francisco. “Haçeteria: 3-Year Anniversary,” w/ Sapphire Slows, Magic Touch (DJ set), Bobby Browser (DJ set), Roche (DJ set), 10 p.m., $5-$8.
Cafe Flore: 2298 Market, San Francisco. “Kinky Beats,” w/ DJ Sergio, 10 p.m., free.
The Cafe: 2369 Market, San Francisco. “Boy Bar,” w/ DJ Matt Consola, 9 p.m., $5.
Cat Club: 1190 Folsom, San Francisco. Strangelove: Día de los Muertos, w/ DJs Tomas Diablo, Sage, Prince Charming, and Fact.50, $7 ($3 before 10 p.m.).
The Cellar: 685 Sutter, San Francisco. “F.T.S.: For the Story,” 10 p.m.
The EndUp: 401 Sixth St., San Francisco. “Fever,” 10 p.m., free before midnight.
F8: 1192 Folsom St., San Francisco. “Vintage,” w/ DJ Toph One & guests, 5 p.m., free.
The Grand Nightclub: 520 4th St., San Francisco. “We Rock Fridays,” 9:30 p.m.
Infusion Lounge: 124 Ellis, San Francisco. “Escape Fridays,” 10 p.m., $20.
Lookout: 3600 16th St., San Francisco. “HYSL,” 9 p.m., $3.
Madrone Art Bar: 500 Divisadero, San Francisco. “Dirty Rotten Dance Party,” w/ Kap10 Harris, Shane King, guests, First Friday of every month, 9 p.m., $5.
Manor West: 750 Harrison, San Francisco. “Fortune Fridays,” 10 p.m., free before 11 p.m. with RSVP.
MatrixFillmore: 3138 Fillmore, San Francisco. “F-Style Fridays,” w/ DJ Jared-F, 9 p.m.
Mezzanine: 444 Jessie, San Francisco. “Future Fridays,” w/ One More Time: A Tribute to Daft Punk, 9 p.m., $15-$20.
Mighty: 119 Utah, San Francisco. French Express Label Night, w/ Jonas Rathsman, Moon Boots, Isaac Tichauer, 10 p.m., $15 advance.
Milk Bar: 1840 Haight, San Francisco. Spooktasm 2.0, w/ Falcons, Light Echo, GHz Funk, 9:30 p.m., $12-$14 advance.
Monarch: 101 6th St., San Francisco. Día de los Muertos, w/ 8Ball, Aaron Pope, Clarkie, Ding Dong, Kapt’n Kirk, Matt Kramer, Tamo, ViaJay, Shooey, Mace, Ethan, John Schiffer, 9 p.m., $10-$15.
OMG: 43 6th St., San Francisco. “Release,” 9 p.m., free before 11 p.m.
Powerhouse: 1347 Folsom, San Francisco. “Nasty,” First Friday of every month, 10 p.m., $5.
Public Works: 161 Erie, San Francisco. As You Like It: Freaky Friday, w/ Maya Jane Coles, Cosmin TRG, Bells & Whistles, Brian Knarfield, Mossmoss, Mike Bee, Nackt, William Wardlaw, more, 9 p.m., $20 advance.
Q Bar: 456 Castro, San Francisco. “Pump: Worq It Out Fridays,” w/ resident DJ Christopher B, 9 p.m., $3.
Region: 139 Steuart St., San Francisco. Hollywood Halloween, w/ DJs Rufio, Rose, and Feldy, 9 p.m., $38 advance.
Ruby Skye: 420 Mason, San Francisco. Aly & Fila, 9 p.m., $20 advance.
Underground SF: 424 Haight, San Francisco. “Bionic,” 10 p.m., $5.
Vessel: 85 Campton, San Francisco. “Blitz,” w/ Festiva, Traviswild, Kean B, Aditiv, Loud Mouth, 10 p.m., $10-$30.
Wish: 1539 Folsom, San Francisco. “Bridge the Gap,” w/ resident DJ Don Kainoa, Fridays, 6-10 p.m., free; “Depth,” w/ resident DJs Sharon Buck & Greg Yuen, First Friday of every month, 10 p.m., free.
HIP-HOP
EZ5: 682 Commercial, San Francisco. “Decompression,” Fridays, 5-9 p.m.
F8: 1192 Folsom St., San Francisco. “Cash4Gold: Some Kind of Way,” w/ Cellus, Pony P, Phleck, Roost Uno, Kool Karlo, 9 p.m., $5.
Nickies: 466 Haight, San Francisco. “First Fridays,” w/ The Whooligan & Dion Decibels, First Friday of every month, 11 p.m., free.
Slate Bar: 2925 16th St., San Francisco. Thriller: Post-Halloween/Pre-Día de los Muertos Costume Dance Party, w/ DJs Sean G & Mackswell, 10 p.m.
ACOUSTIC
The Chapel: 777 Valencia St., San Francisco. Jonathan Wilson, Extra Classic, 9 p.m., $15.
The Sports Basement: 610 Old Mason, San Francisco. “Breakfast with Enzo,” w/ Enzo Garcia, 10 a.m., $5.
St. Cyprian’s Episcopal Church: 2097 Turk, San Francisco. First Fridays Song Circle, First Friday of every month, 7 p.m., $5-$10.
JAZZ
Beach Chalet Brewery & Restaurant: 1000 Great Highway, San Francisco. Johnny Smith, 8 p.m., free.
Bird & Beckett: 653 Chenery, San Francisco. Don Prell’s SeaBop Ensemble, First Friday of every month, 5:30 p.m., free.
Jazz Bistro At Les Joulins: 44 Ellis, San Francisco. Charles Unger Experience, 7:30 p.m., free.
The Palace Hotel: 2 New Montgomery, San Francisco. The Klipptones, 8 p.m., free.
Savanna Jazz Club: 2937 Mission, San Francisco. Savanna Jazz Trio, 7 p.m., $8.
Top of the Mark: One Nob Hill, 999 California, San Francisco. Black Market Jazz Orchestra, 9 p.m., $10.
Zingari: 501 Post, San Francisco. Joyce Grant, 8 p.m., free.
INTERNATIONAL
Bissap Baobab: 3372 19th St., San Francisco. “Paris-Dakar African Mix Coupe Decale,” 10 p.m., $5.
Cafe Cocomo: 650 Indiana, San Francisco. Taste Fridays, featuring local cuisine tastings, salsa bands, dance lessons, and more, 7:30 p.m., $15 (free entry to patio).
Elbo Room: 647 Valencia, San Francisco. La Gente, Bayonics, Emcee Infinite, 10 p.m., $10.
The Emerald Tablet: 80 Fresno St., San Francisco. Brazil Beat, 8 p.m., $15 suggested donation.
Pachamama Restaurant: 1630 Powell, San Francisco. Cuban Night with Fito Reinoso, 7:30 & 9:15 p.m., $15-$18.
Roccapulco Supper Club: 3140 Mission, San Francisco. “Viva la Cumbia,” w/ Aniceto Molina, Los Hermanos Flores, Orquesta San Vicente, 8 p.m., $55-$60 advance.
REGGAE
Gestalt Haus: 3159 16th St., San Francisco. “Music Like Dirt,” 7:30 p.m., free.
Neck of the Woods: 406 Clement St., San Francisco. Thicker Than Thieves, Perro Bravo, Midnight Sun Massive, Burnt, 8 p.m., $10.
Showdown: 10 Sixth St., San Francisco. “How the West Was Won,” w/ Nowtime Sound, First Friday of every month, 10 p.m., free.
BLUES
Biscuits and Blues: 401 Mason, San Francisco. Sonny Rhodes, 7:30 & 10 p.m., $22.
Tupelo: 1337 Green St., San Francisco. Jinx Jones & The KingTones, First Friday of every month, 9 p.m.
EXPERIMENTAL
Center for New Music: 55 Taylor St., San Francisco. Ouroboros, Distant Intervals, poetry/music hybrids, 7:30 p.m., $10-$15.
FUNK
Amnesia: 853 Valencia, San Francisco. Swoop Unit, First Friday of every month, 6 p.m., $3-$5.
Boom Boom Room: 1601 Fillmore, San Francisco. Funk Revival Orchestra, The Bumptet, DJ K-Os, 9:30 p.m., $10-$15.
Make-Out Room: 3225 22nd St., San Francisco. “Loose Joints,” w/ DJs Centipede, Damon Bell, & Tom Thump, 10 p.m., $5.
SOUL
Edinburgh Castle: 950 Geary, San Francisco. “Soul Crush,” w/ DJ Serious Leisure, 10 p.m., free.
The Independent: 628 Divisadero, San Francisco. Hiatus Kaiyote, Martin Luther, Oscar Key Sung, Ghost & The City, 9 p.m., $20.
The Knockout: 3223 Mission, San Francisco. “Oldies Night,” w/ DJs Primo, Daniel, Lost Cat, friends, First Friday of every month, 10 p.m., $5.
Yoshi’s San Francisco: 1330 Fillmore, San Francisco. Avant, 8 & 10 p.m., $29-$33.
SATURDAY 2
ROCK
Amnesia: 853 Valencia, San Francisco. Día de los Muertos with Novos Beaches, Sugar Candy Mountain, Jared Saltiel, 9 p.m., $7-$10.
Bender’s: 806 S. Van Ness, San Francisco. Altamont, Frehley’s Vomet, Stone Chimp, 10 p.m., $5.
Bottom of the Hill: 1233 17th St., San Francisco. Pirates Press Ninth Anniversary Weekend, w/ Street Dogs, The Interrupters, Druglords of the Avenues, Bishops Green, 9 p.m., $15 (or $45 for 3-day pass).
Brick & Mortar Music Hall: 1710 Mission, San Francisco. Tracorum, JeConte, The Sleeping Giants, 9 p.m., $12-$15.
Cafe Du Nord: 2170 Market, San Francisco. Midnight Cinema, 8:30 p.m., $12-$15.
El Rio: 3158 Mission, San Francisco. Black Cobra, Hot Lunch, Owl, 10 p.m., $10.
Hemlock Tavern: 1131 Polk, San Francisco. The Shape, Buzzmutt, Appendixes, 8:30 p.m., $6.
Hotel Utah: 500 Fourth St., San Francisco. Dax Riggs, 9 p.m., $15.
Milk Bar: 1840 Haight, San Francisco. Down Dirty Shake, Mr. Elevator & The Brain Hotel, The Love Dimension, We Are the Men, 8:30 p.m., $5.
Neck of the Woods: 406 Clement St., San Francisco. Subkulture: Eternal Death Wake XI, w/ Peeling Grey, Roadside Memorial, Sorrow Church, Dominion, DJs Xiola & 1369 (on the upstairs stage), 8 p.m., $8.
Rickshaw Stop: 155 Fell, San Francisco. Total Trash Halloween Bash, w/ The Sonics, Roy Loney, Dukes of Hamburg, Wounded Lion, Chad & The Meatbodies, The Rantouls, Midnite Snaxxx, Thee S’Lobsters, 7 p.m., $35-$45.
Slim’s: 333 11th St., San Francisco. Little Comets, Starsystem, 9 p.m., $13-$15.
Thee Parkside: 1600 17th St., San Francisco. Blaak Heat Shujaa, Buffalo Tooth, Wicked Goddess, 9 p.m., $8.
DANCE
Audio Discotech: 316 11th St., San Francisco. Amtrac, Dr. Fresch, Anoctave, 9:30 p.m.
BeatBox: 314 11th St., San Francisco. “Chaos,” w/ DJs Stephan Grondin & Tristan Jaxx, 10 p.m., $20 ($5 before 11 p.m.).
Cafe Flore: 2298 Market, San Francisco. “Bistrotheque,” w/ DJ Ken Vulsion, 8 p.m., free.
Cat Club: 1190 Folsom, San Francisco. “Leisure,” w/ DJs Aaron, Omar, & Jetset James, First Saturday of every month, 10 p.m., $7.
DNA Lounge: 375 11th St., San Francisco. “Bootie S.F.,” w/ DJ Tripp, Faroff, Billy Jam, DJ Fox, Kool Karlo, John!John!, more, 9 p.m., $10-$15.
The EndUp: 401 Sixth St., San Francisco. “Play,” w/ DJ Three, Francis Harris, Michael Perry, Will Spencer, 10 p.m., $15-$20 (free before 11 p.m.).
F8: 1192 Folsom St., San Francisco. “Cult,” w/ Dubtribe, DJ Markie, DJ Jenö, Danja, Andre, Jason Douglas, Matt Holland, 10 p.m., $10-$15.
Infusion Lounge: 124 Ellis, San Francisco. “Volume,” First Saturday of every month, 10 p.m., $10-$20.
The Knockout: 3223 Mission, San Francisco. “Debaser: Day of the Dead – Nirvana Nirvana,” w/ DJs Jamie Jams & EmDee, 10 p.m., $5.
Madrone Art Bar: 500 Divisadero, San Francisco. “The Prince & Michael Experience,” w/ DJs Dave Paul & Jeff Harris, First Saturday of every month, 9 p.m., $5.
Mezzanine: 444 Jessie, San Francisco. “Lights Down Low,” w/ Jamie Jones, Dax, Richie Panic, Sleazemore, 9 p.m., $15-$25.
Mighty: 119 Utah, San Francisco. “Deep Blue,” w/ Guti, DJ Rooz, DJ Bo, more, 10 p.m., $13 advance.
Monarch: 101 6th St., San Francisco. Night Moves: Day of the Disco, w/ Doctor Dru, J-Boogie, Deejay Theory, Papa Lu, Joey Alaniz, 9 p.m., $10-$20.
Public Works: 161 Erie, San Francisco. LTJ Bukem, MC Armanni Reign, Bachelors of Science, 10 p.m., $20-$22.
Q Bar: 456 Castro, San Francisco. “Homo Erectus,” w/ DJs MyKill & Dcnstrct, First Saturday of every month, 9 p.m., $5.
Ruby Skye: 420 Mason, San Francisco. Cazzette, 9 p.m., $30-$40.
The Stud: 399 Ninth St., San Francisco. “Go Bang!: I-Beam Tribute,” w/ Lester Temple, Kenneth L. Kemp, Sergio Fedasz, Steve Fabus, 9 p.m., $7 (free before 10 p.m.).
Underground SF: 424 Haight, San Francisco. “Push the Feeling,” w/ residents Yr Skull & Epicsauce DJs, First Saturday of every month, 9 p.m.
Vessel: 85 Campton, San Francisco. “One Night in Morocco,” w/ Pheeko Dubfunk, Kada, Nile, Lorentzo, 10 p.m., $10-$30.
HIP-HOP
John Colins: 138 Minna, San Francisco. “N.E.W.: Never Ending Weekend,” w/ DJ Jerry Ross, First Saturday of every month, 9 p.m., free before 11 p.m.
Slate Bar: 2925 16th St., San Francisco. “Touchy Feely,” w/ The Wild N Krazy Kids, First Saturday of every month, 10 p.m., $5 (free before 11 p.m.).
ACOUSTIC
Atlas Cafe: 3049 20th St., San Francisco. Craig Ventresco & Meredith Axelrod, Saturdays, 4-6 p.m., free.
Bazaar Cafe: 5927 California, San Francisco. Fourth Annual Mary Elizabeth Beckman Memorial Concert, 7 p.m.
Plough & Stars: 116 Clement, San Francisco. “Americana Jukebox,” w/ Spidermeow, Doug Blumer & The Bohemian Highway, 9 p.m., $6-$10.
Revolution Cafe: 3248 22nd St., San Francisco. Seth Augustus, First Saturday of every month, 9 p.m., free/donation.
Tupelo: 1337 Green St., San Francisco. Shantytown, 9 p.m.
JAZZ
The Emerald Tablet: 80 Fresno St., San Francisco. Clairdee with the Ken French Trio, 8 p.m., $5-$10.
Jazz Bistro At Les Joulins: 44 Ellis, San Francisco. Bill “Doc” Webster & Jazz Nostalgia, 7:30 p.m., free.
Savanna Jazz Club: 2937 Mission, San Francisco. Savanna Jazz Trio, 7 p.m., $8.
Sheba Piano Lounge: 1419 Fillmore, San Francisco. The Robert Stewart Experience, 9 p.m.
Zingari: 501 Post, San Francisco. Barbara Ochoa, 8 p.m., free.
INTERNATIONAL
1015 Folsom: 1015 Folsom St., San Francisco. “Pura,” 9 p.m., $20.
Bissap Baobab: 3372 19th St., San Francisco. “Paris-Dakar African Mix Coupe Decale,” 10 p.m., $5.
Boom Boom Room: 1601 Fillmore, San Francisco. Lagos Roots, Cha-Ching, 9:30 p.m., $10-$15.
Make-Out Room: 3225 22nd St., San Francisco. “El SuperRitmo,” w/ DJs Roger Mas & El Kool Kyle, 10 p.m., $5.
Pachamama Restaurant: 1630 Powell, San Francisco. Peña Eddy Navia & Pachamama Band, 8 p.m., free.
Qi Ultra Lounge: 917 Folsom St., San Francisco. Brazilian Halloween Ball 2013: Back to the ‘80s, w/ 20V Band, Energia do Samba, Roberto Martins, The Les, DJ Kblo, DJ Hanik, 10 p.m., $15 advance.
REGGAE
The Independent: 628 Divisadero, San Francisco. John Brown’s Body, Stick Figure, Alific, 9 p.m., $20.
BLUES
Biscuits and Blues: 401 Mason, San Francisco. Sista Monica, 7:30 & 10 p.m., $22.
The Lucky Horseshoe: 453 Cortland, San Francisco. Dr. Mojo, 9 p.m., free.
EXPERIMENTAL
Center for New Music: 55 Taylor St., San Francisco. Ray-Kallay Duo, 7:30 p.m., $10-$15.
Hyde Street Pier: 499 Jefferson St., San Francisco. “Vessels for Improvisation,” Featuring the Rova Saxophone Quartet with dancer Shinichi Iova-Koga (aboard the history ferryboat Eureka)., 6 p.m., $12-$20.
The Lab: 2948 16th St., San Francisco. A Benefit for the Lab with Rodger Stella, Heartworm, Erors, Malocculsion, Pink Gaze, Omer Gal, 7:30 p.m., $8+.
FUNK
Red Devil Lounge: 1695 Polk, San Francisco. Big Sam’s Funky Nation, 9 p.m., $15.
SOUL
El Rio: 3158 Mission, San Francisco. “Hard French,” w/ DJs Carnita & Brown Amy, First Saturday of every month, 2 p.m., $7.
Elbo Room: 647 Valencia, San Francisco. “Saturday Night Soul Party,” w/ DJs Lucky, Phengren Oswald, & Paul Paul, First Saturday of every month, 10 p.m., $10 ($5 in formal attire).
Yoshi’s San Francisco: 1330 Fillmore, San Francisco. Avant, 8 & 10 p.m., $29-$33.
SUNDAY 3
ROCK
Bottom of the Hill: 1233 17th St., San Francisco. Pirates Press Ninth Anniversary Weekend, w/ FM359, The Ratchets, Downtown Struts, Lenny Lashley’s Gang of One, 8 p.m., $15 (or $45 for 3-day pass).
The Knockout: 3223 Mission, San Francisco. The Bloodtypes, Blammos, The Custom Kicks, Whoosie What’s It’s, 4 p.m., $6.
Thee Parkside: 1600 17th St., San Francisco. He Is Legend, Name, When Earth Awakes, 8 p.m., $10.
DANCE
The Cellar: 685 Sutter, San Francisco. “Replay Sundays,” 9 p.m., free.
The Edge: 4149 18th St., San Francisco. “’80s at 8,” w/ DJ MC2, 8 p.m.
Elbo Room: 647 Valencia, San Francisco. “Dub Mission,” w/ DJ Beset, DJ Sep, J-Boogie, 9 p.m., $6 (free before 9:30 p.m.).
The EndUp: 401 Sixth St., San Francisco. “T.Dance,” 6 a.m.-6 p.m.; “BoomBox,” First Sunday of every month, 8 p.m.; “Sunday Sessions,” 8 p.m.
F8: 1192 Folsom St., San Francisco. “Stamina Sundays,” w/ DJs Lukeino, Jamal, and guests, 10 p.m., free.
The Knockout: 3223 Mission, San Francisco. “Sweater Funk,” 10 p.m., free.
Lookout: 3600 16th St., San Francisco. “Jock,” Sundays, 3-8 p.m., $2.
MatrixFillmore: 3138 Fillmore, San Francisco. “Bounce,” w/ DJ Just, 10 p.m.
Monarch: 101 6th St., San Francisco. “Black Magic Disko,” w/ Finnebassen, Bob Campbell, NDK, 9 p.m., $10-$20.
Otis: 25 Maiden, San Francisco. “What’s the Werd?,” w/ resident DJs Nick Williams, Kevin Knapp, Maxwell Dub, and guests, 9 p.m., $5 (free before 11 p.m.).
The Parlor: 2801 Leavenworth, San Francisco. DJ Marc deVasconcelos, 10 p.m., free.
Q Bar: 456 Castro, San Francisco. “Gigante,” 8 p.m., free.
HIP-HOP
Boom Boom Room: 1601 Fillmore, San Francisco. “Return of the Cypher,” 9:30 p.m., free.
El Rio: 3158 Mission, San Francisco. “Swagger Like Us,” First Sunday of every month, 3 p.m.
Skylark Bar: 3089 16th St., San Francisco. “Shooz,” w/ DJ Raymundo & guests, First Sunday of every month, 10 p.m., free.
ACOUSTIC
The Chapel: 777 Valencia St., San Francisco. Zoë Keating, You Are Plural, 9 p.m., $20-$22.
The Lucky Horseshoe: 453 Cortland, San Francisco. Sunday Bluegrass Jam, 4 p.m., free.
Madrone Art Bar: 500 Divisadero, San Francisco. “Spike’s Mic Night,” Sundays, 4-8 p.m., free.
Make-Out Room: 3225 22nd St., San Francisco. Dave Dondero, Virgil Shaw, Tom Heyman, 7:30 p.m.
Milk Bar: 1840 Haight, San Francisco. Parlor Tricks, Grand Lake Islands, 3 p.m., free.
Neck of the Woods: 406 Clement St., San Francisco. “iPlay,” open mic with featured weekly artists, 6:30 p.m., free.
St. Luke’s Episcopal Church: 1755 Clay, San Francisco. “Sunday Night Mic,” w/ Roem Baur, 5 p.m., free.
Tupelo: 1337 Green St., San Francisco. “Twang Sunday,” 4 p.m., free.
Yoshi’s San Francisco: 1330 Fillmore, San Francisco. Makana, 7 p.m., $17-$23.
JAZZ
Amnesia: 853 Valencia, San Francisco. Kally Price Old Blues & Jazz Band, First Sunday of every month, 9 p.m., $7-$10.
Jazz Bistro At Les Joulins: 44 Ellis, San Francisco. Bill “Doc” Webster & Jazz Nostalgia, 7:30 p.m., free.
Madrone Art Bar: 500 Divisadero, San Francisco. “Sunday Sessions,” 10 p.m., free.
Musicians Union Local 6: 116 Ninth St., San Francisco. Noertker’s Moxie, 7:30 p.m., $8-$10.
Revolution Cafe: 3248 22nd St., San Francisco. Jazz Revolution, 4 p.m., free/donation.
The Royal Cuckoo: 3202 Mission, San Francisco. Lavay Smith & Chris Siebert, 7:30 p.m., free.
Tupelo: 1337 Green St., San Francisco. The Joe Cohen Show, 9 p.m.
Zingari: 501 Post, San Francisco. Lisa Lindsley, 7:30 p.m., free.
INTERNATIONAL
Atmosphere: 447 Broadway, San Francisco. “Hot Bachata Nights,” w/ DJ El Guapo, 5:30 p.m., $10 ($15-$20 with dance lessons).
Bissap Baobab: 3372 19th St., San Francisco. “Brazil & Beyond,” 6:30 p.m., free.
Thirsty Bear Brewing Company: 661 Howard, San Francisco. “The Flamenco Room,” 7:30 & 8:30 p.m.
BLUES
Cafe Du Nord: 2170 Market, San Francisco. Girls Got the Blues, Salamander 6, 8 p.m., $12-$15.
Revolution Cafe: 3248 22nd St., San Francisco. HowellDevine, 8:30 p.m., free/donation.
The Saloon: 1232 Grant, San Francisco. Blues Power, 4 p.m.
Sheba Piano Lounge: 1419 Fillmore, San Francisco. Bohemian Knuckleboogie, 8 p.m., free.
Swig: 571 Geary, San Francisco. Sunday Blues Jam with Ed Ivey, 9 p.m.
COUNTRY
The Riptide: 3639 Taraval, San Francisco. “The Hootenanny West Side Revue,” First Sunday of every month, 7:30 p.m., free.
EXPERIMENTAL
Artists’ Television Access: 992 Valencia, San Francisco. Ollie Bown & Raven with Bill Hsu, Tim Perkis, 8 p.m., $6-$10.
Brick & Mortar Music Hall: 1710 Mission, San Francisco. Fred Frith Trio, Surplus 1980, 9 p.m., $8-$10.
SOUL
Delirium Cocktails: 3139 16th St., San Francisco. “Heart & Soul,” w/ DJ Lovely Lesage, 10 p.m., free.
MONDAY 4
ROCK
Bottom of the Hill: 1233 17th St., San Francisco. The Cliks, KVSK, Hot Peach, 9 p.m., $10.
Brick & Mortar Music Hall: 1710 Mission, San Francisco. Social Studies, Upstairs Downstairs, Tartufi, 9 p.m., $6.
The Independent: 628 Divisadero, San Francisco. Destroyer, Pink Mountaintops, 8 p.m., $15-$17.
Slim’s: 333 11th St., San Francisco. The Chariot, Glass Cloud, Birds in Row, To the Wind, 8 p.m., $13.
DANCE
DNA Lounge: 375 11th St., San Francisco. “The Party Strikes Back,” w/ Mega Ran & K-Murdock, D&D Sluggers, Amanda Lepre, Professor Shyguy, 8:30 p.m., $8-$11; “Death Guild,” 18+ dance party with DJs Decay, Joe Radio, Melting Girl, & guests, 9:30 p.m., $3-$5.
Q Bar: 456 Castro, San Francisco. “Wanted,” w/ DJs Key&Kite and Richie Panic, 9 p.m., free.
Underground SF: 424 Haight, San Francisco. “Vienetta Discotheque,” w/ DJs Stanley Frank and Robert Jeffrey, 10 p.m., free.
HIP-HOP
Elbo Room: 647 Valencia, San Francisco. “Bass Is Great,” w/ PremRock, Zilla Rocca, Curly Castro, DJ Halo, 9 p.m., $5.
ACOUSTIC
Amnesia: 853 Valencia, San Francisco. Front Country, First Monday of every month, 9 p.m., free.
The Chieftain: 198 Fifth St., San Francisco. The Wrenboys, 7 p.m., free.
Fiddler’s Green: 1333 Columbus, San Francisco. Terry Savastano, 9:30 p.m., free/donation.
Hotel Utah: 500 Fourth St., San Francisco. Open mic with Brendan Getzell, 8 p.m., free.
Milk Bar: 1840 Haight, San Francisco. Jeff Desira, Kitten Grenade, Hart Bothwell, Tate Tousaint, 8 p.m., free.
Osteria: 3277 Sacramento, San Francisco. “Acoustic Bistro,” 7 p.m., free.
The Saloon: 1232 Grant, San Francisco. Peter Lindman, 4 p.m.
Tupelo: 1337 Green St., San Francisco. The Barren Vines, 9 p.m.
JAZZ
Cafe Divine: 1600 Stockton, San Francisco. Rob Reich, First and Third Monday of every month, 7 p.m.
Le Colonial: 20 Cosmo, San Francisco. Le Jazz Hot, 7 p.m., free.
Sheba Piano Lounge: 1419 Fillmore, San Francisco. City Jazz Instrumental Jam Session, 8 p.m.
The Union Room at Biscuits and Blues: 401 Mason, San Francisco. The Session: A Monday Night Jazz Series, pro jazz jam with Mike Olmos, 7:30 p.m., $12.
Zingari: 501 Post, San Francisco. Nora Maki, 7:30 p.m., free.
REGGAE
Skylark Bar: 3089 16th St., San Francisco. “Skylarking,” w/ I&I Vibration, 10 p.m., free.
BLUES
Jazz Bistro At Les Joulins: 44 Ellis, San Francisco. Bohemian Knuckleboogie, 7:30 p.m., free.
The Saloon: 1232 Grant, San Francisco. The Bachelors, 9:30 p.m.
EXPERIMENTAL
Make-Out Room: 3225 22nd St., San Francisco. Dyemark, Hora Flora, Voicehandler, 8 p.m., free.
SOUL
Madrone Art Bar: 500 Divisadero, San Francisco. “M.O.M. (Motown on Mondays),” w/ DJ Gordo Cabeza & Timoteo Gigante, 8 p.m., free.
Mezzanine: 444 Jessie, San Francisco. K. Michelle, Sevyn Streeter, 9 p.m., $26.
TUESDAY 5
ROCK
Amnesia: 853 Valencia, San Francisco. French Cassettes, Black Cobra Vipers, Ash Reiter, 9:15 p.m., $7.
Bottom of the Hill: 1233 17th St., San Francisco. Deerhoof, LXMP, Solos, 9 p.m., $17.
Brick & Mortar Music Hall: 1710 Mission, San Francisco. “Wood Shoppe,” w/ Strange Talk, Battleme, Aan, 9 p.m., free.
DNA Lounge: 375 11th St., San Francisco. Soulfly, Havok, 8 p.m., $20-$25.
Elbo Room: 647 Valencia, San Francisco. PSSNGRS, Red Light, Cry, DJs Robert Spector & Sky Madden, 9 p.m., $5.
DANCE
1015 Folsom: 1015 Folsom St., San Francisco. Neon Indian (DJ set), Matrixxman, Avalon Emerson, Manics, 10 p.m., $12-$15.
Aunt Charlie’s Lounge: 133 Turk, San Francisco. “High Fantasy,” w/ DJ Viv, Myles Cooper, & guests, 10 p.m., $2.
Laszlo: 2532 Mission, San Francisco. “Beards of a Feather,” Enjoy classy house records, obscuro disco, and laid-back late-’80s jams with DJ Ash Williams and guests, First Tuesday of every month, 9 p.m., free.
Monarch: 101 6th St., San Francisco. “Soundpieces,” 10 p.m., free-$10.
Q Bar: 456 Castro, San Francisco. “Switch,” w/ DJs Jenna Riot & Andre, 9 p.m., $3.
Underground SF: 424 Haight, San Francisco. “Shelter,” 10 p.m., free.
Wish: 1539 Folsom, San Francisco. “Tight,” w/ resident DJs Michael May & Lito, 8 p.m., free.
HIP-HOP
Skylark Bar: 3089 16th St., San Francisco. “True Skool Tuesdays,” w/ DJ Ren the Vinyl Archaeologist, 10 p.m., free.
Slim’s: 333 11th St., San Francisco. SoMo, PropaneLv, Kid Slim, 8 p.m., $16.
ACOUSTIC
Bazaar Cafe: 5927 California, San Francisco. Andy Padlo, 7 p.m. Starts . continues through Nov. 26.
Hotel Utah: 500 Fourth St., San Francisco. Jon Dee Graham, Mike June, Colonels of Truth, 8 p.m., $10-$12.
JAZZ
Beach Chalet Brewery & Restaurant: 1000 Great Highway, San Francisco. Gerry Grosz Jazz Jam, 7 p.m.
Blush! Wine Bar: 476 Castro, San Francisco. Kally Price & Rob Reich, 7 p.m., free.
Burritt Room: 417 Stockton St., San Francisco. Terry Disley’s Rocking Jazz Trio, 6 p.m., free.
Cafe Divine: 1600 Stockton, San Francisco. Chris Amberger, 7 p.m.
Jazz Bistro At Les Joulins: 44 Ellis, San Francisco. M.B. Hanif & The Sound Voyagers, 7:30 p.m., free.
Le Colonial: 20 Cosmo, San Francisco. Lavay Smith & Her Red Hot Skillet Lickers, 7 p.m.
Oz Lounge: 260 Kearny, San Francisco. Emily Hayes & Mark Holzinger, 6 p.m., free.
Revolution Cafe: 3248 22nd St., San Francisco. West Side Jazz Club, 5 p.m., free; Conscious Contact, First Tuesday of every month, 8 p.m., free.
Tupelo: 1337 Green St., San Francisco. Mal Sharpe’s Big Money in Jazz Band, 6 p.m.
Verdi Club: 2424 Mariposa, San Francisco. “Tuesday Night Jump,” w/ Stompy Jones, 9 p.m., $10-$12.
Yoshi’s San Francisco: 1330 Fillmore, San Francisco. Tommy Igoe Big Band, 8 p.m., $22.
Zingari: 501 Post, San Francisco. Brenda Reed, 7:30 p.m., free.
INTERNATIONAL
Cafe Cocomo: 650 Indiana, San Francisco. “Descarga S.F.,” w/ DJs Hong & Good Sho, 8 p.m., $12.
The Cosmo Bar & Lounge: 440 Broadway, San Francisco. “Conga Tuesdays,” 8 p.m., $7-$10.
Elbo Room: 647 Valencia, San Francisco. Benefit to Help Roberta with Bayonics, Grupo da Sete, Fogo Na Roupa, BrazilVox, Gringa, DJ Lucio K, DJ Carioca, 8 p.m., $10-$20.
F8: 1192 Folsom St., San Francisco. “Underground Nomads,” w/ rotating resident DJs Cheb i Sabbah, Amar, Sep, and Dulce Vita, plus guests, 9 p.m., $5 (free before 9:30 p.m.).
REGGAE
Milk Bar: 1840 Haight, San Francisco. “Bless Up,” w/ Jah Warrior Shelter Hi-Fi, 10 p.m.
BLUES
The Saloon: 1232 Grant, San Francisco. Lisa Kindred, First Tuesday of every month, 9:30 p.m., free.
EXPERIMENTAL
Center for New Music: 55 Taylor St., San Francisco. sfSoundSalonSeries, 7:49 p.m., $7-$10.
Hemlock Tavern: 1131 Polk, San Francisco. Les Rhinocéros, Glimr, Lost Animal, 8:30 p.m., $7.
FUNK
Biscuits and Blues: 401 Mason, San Francisco. Fat Tuesday Band, 7 & 9 p.m., $15.
Madrone Art Bar: 500 Divisadero, San Francisco. “Boogaloo Tuesday,” w/ Oscar Myers & Steppin’, 9:30 p.m., free.
SOUL
Boom Boom Room: 1601 Fillmore, San Francisco. The JRo Project, First Tuesday of every month, 9:30 p.m., $5.
Make-Out Room: 3225 22nd St., San Francisco. “Lost & Found,” w/ DJs Primo, Lucky, and guests, 9:30 p.m., free. 

Hot and cool

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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0
Hot and cool

arts@sfbg.com

FILM The stars say the director was brutal. The director says he wishes the film had never been released (but he might make a sequel). The graphic novelist is uncomfortable with the explicit 10-minute sex scene. And most of the state of Idaho will have to wait to see the film on Netflix.

The noise of recrimination, the lesser murmur of backpedaling, and a difficult-to-argue NC-17 rating could make it harder, as French director Abdellatif Kechiche has predicted, to find a calm, neutral zone in which to watch Blue is the Warmest Color, his Palme d’Or–winning adaptation (with co-writer Ghalya Lacroix) of Julie Maroh’s 2010 graphic novel Le Blue Est une Couleur Chaude.

And yet … this is not Gigli (2003), despite the slimmest of Venn diagram overlays (lesbians). In the states, at least, Blue stars Adèle Exarchopoulos and Léa Seydoux (2011’s Midnight in Paris, 2012’s Farewell, My Queen) don’t yet haunt the tabloids of the nation’s checkout lines. Once you’ve committed to the three-hour runtime, it’s not too difficult to tune out the static, the Daily Beast interview, the tearful press conferences, the threats of litigation, and focus on a film that trains its own mesmerized gaze on a young woman’s transforming experience of first love.

In the early scenes of Blue, which spans perhaps 10 years, Adèle (Exarchopoulos) is a quiet, reserved, slightly dreamy teenager living with her family in the suburbs of Lille, a city in northern France near the Belgian border. We see her making the long commute to the city center for school, reading and musing and writing in her journal, in class, with peers, silently turning over the mysterious events of her life. Pursued by a boy at school and goaded by her friends, she attempts to form an attachment to him and, when the experiment fails, is appalled, identifying something lacking inside herself.

We know what it is — and so does she, on some level. Earlier, in a French class, poring over a text by Marivaux, a teacher proposes the idea of a coup de foudre, love at first sight, a bolt from the blue, and we gather that one is coming for Adèle, something to jar her out of her silence and noncommittal posture, out of listening and reading and into life.

When the thunderclap comes, it’s a chance encounter in a crosswalk, the kind where time behaves oddly, and the rest of the world flattens out and goes achromatic. We hear Adèle’s breathing before we see Emma (Seydoux), a sexy, butch, blue-haired girl who comes strolling into focus with an arm slung over her girlfriend’s shoulder. The moment has a sensual weight to it, carried in Emma’s eyes as they lock with Adèle’s, as she manages to signal something vital to the younger girl, filling in a kind of outline of desire where before there was a dull, confusing nothingness — until time reasserts itself, leaving Adèle disoriented and caught in moving traffic.

When, months later, they meet again by chance; or predestination, as Emma flirtingly suggests; or because Adèle has wandered alone into a dyke bar in search of something she’s not ready to cop to, their conversation isn’t earth-shattering (except, because it’s even happening, to Adèle), but their connection, here and during successive encounters, is unsettling and electric.

Most of this comes across in the small, guarded expressions that flicker onto Adèle’s face, her eyes communicating, at different times, wonder, unease, submersive desire, or panic as she silently digests and wrestles with what is unfamiliar, exhilarating, and, eventually, heartbreaking and terrible.

Through all of this, the camera stays close, sometimes unnervingly so. In an early domestic scene, as the voracious Adèle wolfs down spaghetti Bolognese, we are treated to a detail-rich shot of her chewing, open mouth; at night we watch her sleeping and feel slightly creepy about it. And this is before her fantasies about the blue-haired girl begin, and before they manifest, in a series of lengthy, literal sex scenes that have inspired nervous laughter in darkened movie theaters, accusations of voyeurism, and that Idaho blackout, among other responses. Yet the camera’s relentless, intrusive intimacy brings us as close to the inside of Adèle’s head as she will allow anyone, including Emma, to get.

As for those scenes of grappling, slapping, tangled physicality — they’re uncomfortable, and insistent, and they feel very real. Also, like we shouldn’t be standing there watching for quite so long, though it’s certain to be an edifying experience for many in the room. And it may be that Kechiche is intent on an exercise of compare and contrast, offering up these extended interludes, in which two female lovers try their best, for hours, to crawl inside each other’s skin, as a sort of response to an early, abridged scene between Adèle and her boyfriend that ends unsatisfyingly for at least one of them.

There’s a certain heavy, explanatory neatness to that, of a piece with other devices that sometimes drag at the film. Must there be two separate conversations about the delights of oyster eating, to trace Adèle’s trajectory and palatal shift? Yes, Kechiche seems to feel, as if he’d just made a surprising discovery at a queer spoken word night in 1992. Gravely delivered classroom lectures, early in the film, likewise coincide miraculously, pointing always in the direction of Adèle’s life — the coup de foudre, a discussion of predestination, another on the perversions of the natural world, another still on ineluctable tragedy.

One or two of these moments would suffice. But little of the time spent in Adèle’s quiet company feels wasted. We sit with her for hours, quietly marking milestones in a relationship that blooms and deteriorates; standing nearby as Adèle falls apart, too; watching a heart expanding and breaking apart and reassembling, changed. *

BLUE IS THE WARMEST COLOR opens Fri/1 in Bay Area theaters.

To hell and back

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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0
To hell and back

cheryl@sfbg.com

FILM Pop culture’s engagement with slavery has always been uneasy. Landmark 1977 miniseries Roots set ratings records, but the prestigious production capped off a decade that had seen more questionable endeavors, including 1971’s Goodbye Uncle Tom (from the Italian filmmakers who invented “mondo” films) and 1975 exploitation flick Mandingo (“the first true epic of the Old South,” according to its trailer). The latter is often cited by Quentin Tarantino as one of his favorite films; it was a clear influence on his 2012 revenge fantasy Django Unchained.

It’s fitting that Steve McQueen’s 12 Years a Slave is being released almost exactly one year post-Django, though the two films share little beyond the slavery theme. Django (which won Oscars for Tarantino’s screenplay and Christoph Waltz’s dentist-cum-bounty hunter) is loud, lurid, and gleefully anachronistic, with proto-KKK members arguing about the placement of eyeholes on their hoods, and hip-hop on the soundtrack. It approached its subject matter in a manner that paid homage to the Westerns it riffed on: with guns blazing.

By contrast, 12 Years a Slave is nuanced and steeped in realism. Though it does contain scenes of violence (deliberately captured in long takes by regular McQueen collaborator Sean Bobbitt, whose cinematography is one of the film’s many stylistic achievements), the film emphasizes the horrors of “the peculiar institution” by repeatedly showing how accepted and ingrained it was. Early on, a woman is sold and separated from her young son and daughter. Her new owner, played by Benedict Cumberbatch, urges her not to be upset, even as she screams in anguish, because “your children will soon be forgotten.” He has no awareness of the pain he’s inflicting — and he’s one of the more sympathetic white characters in the film.

12 Years a Slave is based on the true story of Solomon Northup, an African American man who was sold into slavery in 1841 and survived to pen a wrenching account of his experiences. An acclaimed violinist, Northup had a unique perspective on the South’s surreal status quo; he was born free and had lived a happy, cultured life until he was kidnapped and subjected to over a decade of mental and physical torture. As Northup, Chiwetel Ejiofor (best-known for supporting roles in films like 2005’s Serenity and 2006’s Children of Men) delivers a powerful, star making performance.

As for McQueen, the director’s familiar moniker may still confuse mainstream filmgoers, but once 12 Years a Slave opens, the Brit should finally enjoy some stand-alone name recognition. A large ensemble cast (Paul Giamatti, Paul Dano, Sarah Paulson, Michael K. Williams) populates a film that balances technical virtuosity with brutal subject matter, scripted from Northup’s book by John Ridley (in a huge step up from 2012’s overly sentimental Red Tails).

Increasingly ubiquitous actor Michael Fassbender has seen his biggest critical triumphs come when he’s worked with McQueen. The director, who started his career making art films, made his first feature, Hunger, in 2008; it starred a then-unknown Fassbender as IRA hunger striker Bobby Sands. McQueen’s daring 2011 follow-up, NC-17 sex-addict tale Shame, earned Fassbender a raft of accolades. In 12 Years a Slave, he’s his best yet playing the film’s troubled villain, a plantation owner who exacerbates what’s clearly an unwell mind with copious amounts of booze. He’s tauntingly cruel to Northrup, but slave Patsey — played by talented newcomer Lupita Nyong’o — receives the bulk of his unwanted attentions, affectionate and otherwise.

There’s one false note in 12 Years a Slave, so glaring it deserves a mention. The film is full of recognizable faces; parts played by big stars like Giamatti and Alfre Woodard amount to little more than cameos. But the last-act appearance of Brad Pitt (as an enlightened, worldly builder) proves a jarring intrusion. Pragmatically, perhaps it was worth it; Ejiofor has said in interviews that the megastar’s involvement helped the film get made. But that doesn’t mean it’s not completely distracting. *

 

12 YEARS A SLAVE opens Fri/1 in Bay Area theaters.

Lit up

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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0
Lit up

arts@sfbg.com

DANCE This past weekend, two dance companies showed premieres inspired by fiction writers. Alonzo King’s imagination was stirred by Irish author Colum McCann (Let the Great World Spin) for Writing Ground, commissioned in 2010 by the Monte Carlo Ballet. For Jenny McAllister, it was mystery novelist and screenwriter Raymond Chandler, whom she has read and loved since she was a little girl.

In the work’s San Francisco premiere, King’s LINES Ballet dancers dived into Writing’s complexities with their accustomed passion and competence. It was gratifying to see new company member Robb Beresford, and apprentices Babatunji Johnson and Jeffrey Van Sciver, already comfortable with the stylistic demands of King’s intricate choreography.

Fierce presence is what King asks of his dancers. For Writing, he placed them into an environment of spiritual music from around the globe, which has moved beyond its historical sources into a quasi-mythic arena. Rarely has a King work — divided into small scenes, as is his habit — conveyed such a fluid sense of unity.

Of course, Writing was full of struggles, disrupted connections, broken lines, and extensions that curled in on themselves. Van Sciver, in a long brown skirt, periodically whipped across the stage like some preternatural force, perhaps generating, or perhaps destructive to, the duet between Kara Wilkes and Beresford. A trio for women in pointe shoes — which suggest defiance of gravity — had them groveling in a crouch. Yet Yujin Kim serenely stretched, apparently indifferent to the violent physical struggle between Meredith Webster and David Harvey. For all their volatility, Kim and similarly tall partner Courtney Henry created visual anchors on the stage.

Writing moved toward its climactic final scene with a clear trajectory, perhaps starting with Harvey and Johnson’s contentious duet that ended with them walking upstage like brothers. They were followed by Kim’s solo to the spiritual “Over my Head.” For the finale, a door opened upstage, and an anguished Wilkes squeezed in, manipulated and supported by four men. She struggled, collapsed, and resurged again and again. Perhaps something was trying to be born out of incredible pain. And yet what compassion these men brought to whatever needed to be done.

LINES also presented the world premiere of King’s Concerto for Two Violins in D-minor, set to Bach’s much-acclaimed score. It just might be this eminent dance maker’s most musically astute choreography to Western classical music. The work opened with Johnson stretching his limbs as if trying to expand space beyond the horizon. The choreography emphasized variations within symmetry, such as the trios that chased each other or peeling stacks of double lines. Webster, Wilkes, Harvey, and Michael Montgomery danced the middle section as a double duet in a beautiful synthesis of edginess and lyricism.

McAllister’s nicely timed and entertaining Being Raymond Chandler, a one-hour dance theater piece for her 13th Floor Dance Theater, looks at the mystery icon (David Silpa) struggling with writer’s block, ambition, a messy almost-marriage, and a love for the bottle. But he was also portrayed as a serious writer, separate from the hack image that sticks to him.

The choreography, mostly social dances from the 1940s, was not particularly original, but these sequences set up a relaxed counterpoint to the staccato dialogs that keep racing from one fictional disaster to the next. There were moments when Being dragged — perhaps drowning in language — but it picked up speed and closed with a flourish.

Ever heard of a novel’s characters coming to life? In this piece, Chandler’s did, fighting with the muddle-headed writer for a different identity and desperately trying to stay in the story (hopefully, in a major part). Yet they also pitched in, with disastrous results, rewriting what was clearly a mess. The whole thing might as well be a backstage look at a soap opera.

Patric Cashman wanted to die — again and again; Erin Mei-Ling Stuart was hilarious as both Chandler’s almost-wife and the seductress who, she insists, needs to be a brunette. The versatile Blane Ashby had so many roles — a noisy neighbor, a crook, a former husband — that I couldn’t keep them apart. The weakest character in this entertainment was Eric Garcia’s sleepy Philip Marlowe, who only came to life halfway through.

Good comedy has an ability to draw you in even as you stay at arm’s length. McAllister at her best — and she is good here — has that gift of playing with perspectives and focus, while keeping the audience off balance McAllister has also learned from Chandler: Out of all those misfiring plot twists, she pulled together a lickety-split mystery that took off like a rocket. *

 

ALONZO KING LINES BALLET

Wed/30-Thu/31, 7:30pm; Fri/1-Sat/2, 8pm; Sun/3, 5pm, $30-$65

Yerba Buena Center for the Arts

700 Howard, SF

www.linesballet.org

13TH FLOOR DANCE THEATER

Sat/2-Sun/3, 8pm, $18-$23

ODC Dance Commons

351 Shotwell, SF

www.13thfloordance.org

Cover me bad

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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0
Cover me bad

MUSIC Halloween’s like Christmastime for crafty weirdoes. But for me, crudely sewn, elaborate costumes are only half the fun. Around these parts, creativity seems to peak during what is arguably the most wonderful time of the year. The Bay Area particularly steps it up by honoring the punk band tradition of the Halloween cover show (where legendary bands are paid tribute through song and dress).

This year’s Total Trash Halloween Bash (www.totaltrashproductions.com) offers some of the usual suspects when it comes to rockers delivering camouflaged covers. However, with Nobunny channeling Bo Diddley as “Nodiddley” and Russell Quan joining Shannon and the Clams as Los Saicos, we step out of the box that usually brings us Cramps and Misfits covers. While those shows are completely appropriate (along with the typical homage to bands like the Ramones, the Damned, and Alice Cooper) and have proven popular, Oakland’s sentimental-grunge act, Yogurt Brain, has opted to take on Weezer this year. Rest assured — fans of the Blue Album and Pinkerton won’t be disappointed.

“I can’t wait to hear them do ‘Buddy Holly’ live,” Nobunny emails back in anticipation. Figuring it’s not the masked-man’s first time at the rodeo, I asked him and a few others about the origins of this tradition. No one seemed to be able to pinpoint exactly when and where it started, but Mark Ribak from Total Trash Productions quipped Thee Oh Sees’ John Dwyer “probably invented it” as an alternative to seeing the Cramps on Halloween (Bill Graham Presents booked an annual Cramps Halloween show in SF starting in the mid-1980s).

Ironically, Nobunny’s first, full-cover set would be the Cramps back in 2009; the same year front man Lux Interior died. I asked far and wide and got scattered remnants of Halloween parties past (like the time a member of Chicago’s Functional Blackouts recalled his previous band dressing in drag, billing themselves as Pretty Pretty Pretty Princess, and doing Bikini Kill songs in 1999).

“Here it definitely seems like more of an event than other cities I’ve lived in, but cover shows seem to happen everywhere in every city,” says Stephen Oriolo, Yogurt Brain’s guitarist and songwriter. He’s gotten into the theatrical spirit so much that by press time he’ll already have done a couple of shows as TRAWGGZ (a Troggs cover band) with members of the now defunct Uzi Rash. “Halloween is a time to be something you’re not. Merging that idea with parties or shows naturally makes sense to do a cover set.”

LA Burger bands like Pangea and Audacity have covered Nirvana and Adolescents respectively. Closer to home, the Clams, who are repeat offenders, have done Devo and Creedence Clearwater Revival (which by all accounts was something you had to see to believe), and Uzi Rash made minds melt with a searing interpretation of Monks songs, shaved heads included (Thee Parkside’s Hallorager II, another Halloween show, will have a different Monks cover band this year. www.theeparkside.com).

As for some of Nobunny’s favorite Halloween tricks: “I like the pranksters, like Ty Segall doing the Spits when they were scheduled to be the Gories. Or my absolute favorite was when Uzi Rash, who were scheduled to play as the Fall, soundchecked as the Fall, and then came out at showtime and performed as the Doors. Great swindle!”

So put on your costume (you might even win a contest if it’s good) and have an old fashioned sing-along with a room full of equally pumped people at one of these shows. I just pray my chances of hearing “The Good Life” live doesn’t end up being a prank. The room is sure to erupt as the tradition thrives in the Bay.

 

Perma-teens

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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1
Perma-teens

arts@sfbg.com

MUSIC It’s entirely debatable what year this current wave of the garage rock revival broke out.

But for all intents and purposes, let’s just say the genre came back into vogue yet again around 2009: the year Total Trash Productions came into existence. For the past five years, the booking company has served up dozens of garage rock shows and fests in the Bay Area.

And this year, on their fifth anniversary, the folks behind Total Trash are bringing a relic from the first wave: The seminal Washington-based 1960s garage rock band, the Sonics, will play a string of shows for the annual Total Trash Halloween Bash.

The Sonics were there in the very beginning. They got their start in a time when the British Invasion was in full swing. Rejecting sugary-sweet mop-topped bands, the Sonics idolized Jerry Lee Lewis and Little Richard.

“We thought, to heck with wearing suits and neckties," keyboardist-vocalist Gerry Roslie says. "Playing love songs felt wrong — we could only play music with power. We played loud and we played how we felt: like animals.”

The band released a string of albums in the ’60s, with a mixture of rock n’ roll covers such as "Have Love Will Travel," "Louie, Louie," and "Roll Over Beethoven" and edgier, screaching original numbers like “Strychnine” and “Psycho.”

Many credit the Sonics as a proto-punk band of sorts, but Roslie says he saw the band as an outlet to live out his rock ‘n’ roll fantasy until the grips of adulthood came.

“I didn’t know we were garage rock or proto-punk, because those terms didn’t exist at the time we were playing,” Roslie says. “I just knew that we liked being crazy and wanted to play something different than what was out there at the time.”

Roslie left the band in 1967 and started an asphalt-paving business. For decades he had no idea of the influence that his band had left, with future acts such as the Cramps, the Mummies, and the Fall all performing Sonics covers at one point or another.

During that time, Roslie lived a quiet life. That is, until the band was approached in 2007 to play Cavestomp!, a garage rock festival in Brooklyn. That was the first time the band played in well over 30 years.

“We were so nervous — we decided that we would only start playing shows again if people still liked us,” Roslie says.

And sure enough, the Sonics were received with great fanfare, and continued on to play shows in Europe. The one thing that still amazes Roslie is the enthusiasm of new and old Sonics fans alike.

“We’re still scratching our heads going ‘wow’ — I feel that we’re finally getting the attention we deserved,” Roslie says. “We played for teenagers and 20-somethings back in the day, and we’re still playing for that kind of audience. A lot of the kids look the same as they did back then.”

Like many bands that reunite, the Sonics are playing songs made when they were quite young themselves, for the most part covering issues surrounding teenage culture. But as it stands today, all of the members of the band are old enough to be card-carrying AARP (American Association of Retired Persons) members.

“I’m a teenager inside of some wrinkled old body,” says Roslie. “The songs that we made back then are still relatable because we’ve maintained our attitude. We’ve still got that.”

And the Sonics mojo is still intact. So much so that the band is creating a new album. According to Roslie, fans can expect it around late December or early 2014. The release isn’t titled yet, and the label is yet to be determined.

“We didn’t want to go off in a different direction like many bands that have been around for a while do,” Roslie says. “We’re keeping to what we know and do best — loud, crazy rock n’ roll.”

Perma-teenagers or not, the Sonics still have attitude and candor aplenty, spreading the underground rock ‘n’ roll gospel (actively or not) since before you were born.

TOTAL TRASH HALLOWEEN BASH WITH THE SONICS
With Phantom Surfers, Legendary Stardust Cowboy
Fri/1, 7:30pm, $35
New Parish
579 18th St, Oakl.

With Roy Loney, Dukes of Hamburg, Wounded Lion, Chad & the Meatbodies
Sat/2, 7pm, $35
Rickshaw Stop
155 Fell, SF
(415) 861-2011
www.totaltrashfest.com

In the year of worms

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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4
In the year of worms

emilysavage@sfbg.com

TOFU AND WHISKEY That voice. Those eerie, singular vocals that are somehow both alien and intimately familiar. They sound like electric Tesla coils wrapped in whipped silk. San Francisco’s Hannah Lew is most often heard harmonizing by three with her striking post-punk trio Grass Widow. With newer project Cold Beat, it’s her vocals alone above the needling guitars and anxious synths of a different band.

Lew has been writing songs as Cold Beat for some time, in between Grass Widow releases and tours, but this week she releases her first EP under the moniker: Worms/Year 5772, with songs inspired by the trauma of Lew’s father passing away a few years back. While Cold Beat is mainly a Lew production, she enlisted many local rock ‘n’ roll luminaries to both play on the album and back her up at shows.

The record’s sound is rounded out by guitarist Kyle King, drummer Lillian Maring, and Shannon and the Clams’ Cody Blanchard on guitar and synths. The live band features King, the Mallard’s Greer Mcgettrick on guitar, and Erase Errata’s Bianca Sparta on drums. That live version will celebrate the release of the EP with a show at the Night Light in Oakland Tue/5.(Cold Beat also plays Great American Music Hall on Nov. 14.) But before that, Lew spoke with the Bay Guardian about the origins of Worms/Year 5772, her DIY record label and music video projects, and the songs she played at her wedding last week:

SF Bay Guardian What inspired you to write new music as Cold Beat, outside of Grass Widow?

Hannah Lew I always write songs and sometimes they just didn’t totally feel like Grass Widow songs. I just kept collecting them and not really knowing if I should release them. As the tunes started accumulating I decided I should get a band together and figure out a way to share the songs. When Kyle King and I started playing — his energy really enabled the songs to come to fruition.

SFBG Can you tell me a bit about the songwriting process with Worms/Year 5772 and how the themes of “death, Internet surveillance, paranoia and science fiction” translated into the music?

HL “Worms” was written as a response to my grief about my father’s death in 2009. I couldn’t help but imagine worms eating his corpse — which was a very visceral image I couldn’t get out of my head…I think the horror of this was something I couldn’t really share with anyone, and in taking time to write more songs on my own I started realizing that it was good for me to have an outlet for some other concepts that were a bit more personal.

I always turn to science fiction when I am trying to understand or relate my feelings. It gives me a change to explore depths of doom and hope that I can more easily imagine not on this earth. In writing all the lyrics alone for Cold Beat there is a little more of me just in my own head which can be great and sometimes paranoid or depressed. I get really bad insomnia and many Cold Beat songs were demoed at 5 or 6am.

Grass Widow lyrics are always more of a conversation where as Cold Beat lyrics are more like an interior dialogue. It’s kind of like describing a dream to someone.

SFBG Does “Year 5772” refer to the Jewish calendar? Why did you make this connection?

HL My late father was a rabbi and I was raised very religious. I was writing Year 5772 about a dystopian post-apocalyptic dream I had that seemed to take place in some distant future and I started thinking about how the Jewish calendar is already in Year 5772 — actually a couple years later now since the song was written a few years ago — and how our concept of the future is based in what point in time we imagine ourselves in — but the concept of linear time is very relative.

I guess being Jewish is kind of futuristic and ancient simultaneously. I like the idea of collapsing time and writing a song that takes place in a landscape outside of time. I also like thinking about existing in many times simultaneously.

SFBG Did you find the solo songwriting process freeing or more complicated without the group’s input?

HL Some of the Cold Beat songs were written during the time Grass Widow was writing our last record — Internal Logic. Somehow they just seemed more personal and better spoken from one voice instead of related by three people. I think the complicated part for me was deciphering which songs were Cold Beat songs and which ones to give to Grass Widow.

Grass Widow is a great space where the three of us would relate and abstract our feelings and dreams together. But there were some things I was going through that I couldn’t synthesize with anyone else and just had to express on my own. I like having conversations about concepts with bandmates, but I also like working alone.

Luckily I can do both! I think it is important to be able to do things on your own so you know who you are and have something to offer a collaborative project. Just like in love.

SFBG You got married last weekend — what key songs were on your playlist? Are you willing to give up any other details?

HL It’s all kind of a blur. but it was so much fun! Some friends of ours put together a wedding band with Kyle King as the band leader. My husband (whoa!) and I put together a set list for the band to play of all our favorite dancing songs. I think the party really went crazy during the Dick Dale version of “Hava Nagila” and we got lifted up in chairs and everything, but also [the Flamin’ Groovies song] “Shake Some Action” was pretty epic too.

My friend Henson Flye made giant clamshells and Raven Mahon made a moon photo backdrop. We had a choir of friends sing “I’ll Be Your Mirror” while I walked down the aisle. It was really beautiful and a beautiful way for all our friends to express their love and friendship and show us support and for us to throw a fun party for everyone. We’re lucky to have a lot of love. Still buzzing from it!

SFBG As with Grass Widow (HLR), you’re putting Cold Beat out on your own label, Crime On The Moon. Can you tell me about the label, and why you’re sticking with DIY?

HL I really enjoy doing everything myself. HLR has been a great experience and we really took the time to make critical decisions about how we wanted to do business. I figured I could easily do it myself with Crime On The Moon since I had the experience of putting out the last few Grass Widow releases. One drawback is that when you put music out on a label you have an instant fan, publicist, and advocate — so when you’re on your own you have to manufacture your own confidence for what you are doing. But having good bandmates and support from your friends goes a long way!

SFBG You also make music videos — will you make any for Cold Beat? Are you working on any others currently?

HL Mike Stoltz, who made the Grass Widow “11 of Diamonds” video and collaborated with me on “Give Me Shapes,” is in the process of editing a Cold Beat video for “Worms.” So that will be out in the next couple of weeks! I am always updating my site (www.hannahlew.com) with new finished videos I make for other bands.

SFBG Anything else you want people to know about Cold Beat or about other upcoming projects?

HL Well I’m excited for our EP to be released November 5. We’ll have copies at our record release show at the Night Light in Oakland with Screature and Pure Bliss. Then we’ll be touring the West Coast to follow that.

I’m also releasing a seven-inch [that] Raven and I recorded with Jon Shade on drums under the name Bridge Collapse. We recorded with Kelley Stoltz and I’m looking forward to releasing those songs along with a compilation of SF bands writing songs as a response to the tech boom. So a lot of exciting Crime On The Moon projects ahead!

COLD BEAT

Tue/5, 9pm, $6

Night Light

311 Broadway, Oakl.

www.thenightlightoakland.com

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