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What is the plural of cyclops, anyway? “God of War III,” reviewed

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By Peter Galvin

God of War III

(Santa Monica Studio, Sony Computer Entertainment)

PS3

A melting pot of ancient Greek myths and characters, the God of War series embodies the term “Big Game.” When the first title made its debut on the PS2 in 2005, people were blown away by the scope of the environments and the brutality of its anti-hero Kratos. A pawn in one of those tragic mind-games that Greek gods were so well-known for, Kratos was a Spartan warrior who set out to exact vengeance against the gods that betrayed him, battling his way through hell itself more than once. In this, the third and supposedly final game in the franchise, action and spectacle are amplified to their limits as Kratos ascends Mount Olympus to murder Zeus himself.

The first title to debut on a next-gen console, God of War III’s graphics are doubly incredible and the mechanics continue to be top notch, but it’s here that the story begins to falter. For the first half of the game, God of War III is a re-tread of its prequels, but that’s kind of okay when it’s also such ridiculous fun. You continue to destroy innumerable centaurs and cyclopses (cyclopsi?) and developers Santa Monica Studio have created a mechanism they coin “Zipper Technology” that aims to realistically resemble guts and organs popping out of a body. The bosses are likely the main draw, often filling the screen with their immense size, and God of War III has some of the best bosses yet in the series, including a Titan that you must scale á la Shadow of the Colossus.

Unfortunately the game climaxes early, just a little more than halfway through, and the ultimate battle with Zeus is a mostly disappointing section considering the wonderful spectacle that preceded it. Vengeance is a reliable plot-device for a reason, but eventually you’re going to have to supply answers and they better be good. As an ending to the series, perhaps Santa Monica Studio were shooting for something a little more arty but instead they nailed pretentious and repetitive. Depth was never really God of War’s strong suit anyway; for all its flash and dazzle, the series was enjoyed best as a top-notch exercise in murdering mythical creatures.

Director Atom Egoyan talks remakes, marriage, and “Chloe”

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Canadian director Atom Egoyan (1994’s Exotica, 1997’s The Sweet Hereafter) was recently in town to discuss Chloe, his latest film, which producer Ivan Reitman commissioned him to direct. Based on, but markedly different from, the 2003 French film Nathalie, Chloe follows the unexpected course of events triggered when the middle-aged Catherine (Julianne Moore), suspecting her husband David (Liam Neeson) of having an affair, hires luxe call-girl Chloe (Amanda Seyfried) to tempt him.

San Francisco Bay Guardian: Do you know what attracted Ivan Reitman to this project?

Atom Egoyan: My only clue, really, is that in looking at his filmography, he made a film [in 1993] called Dave, which I enjoyed because it really is also a study of a marriage, a marriage that had gone completely cold. Sigourney Weaver plays the wife of a president, played by Kevin Kline, and they can’t stand each other. He dies, and a ringer is brought in, also played by Kevin Kline. All they have to do is make public appearances, because this couple doesn’t talk to each other in private at all. And she finds herself strangely falling in back love with her husband, and of course it isn’t her husband, it’s a surrogate. I think I understand why the person who made that film would be attracted to Chloe, because it’s dealing with similar themes.

SFBG: This is the first time you’ve directed a feature film script you haven’t written. Have you been approached before?

AE: Oh yes, all the time [gestures to two stacks at the end of the table, two and four inches thick, respectively]. I’ve had an agent since Exotica, sending me scripts. I was actually about to do a script after Exotica, a thriller, with Warner Brothers, and I spent a year in LA. And like anyone else, you can spend time there and have meetings and sort of not make movies. And I had an opportunity in Canada to make a certain type of  movie, so I went back and made The Sweet Hereafter, and I didn’t really ever regret that decision. I’m still sent scripts all the time. And some of them are tempting, some of them are films that you’d be interested in watching, but my question is, would I be able to spend a year, year-and-a-half, two years making the film, and remaining interested, and then talking about it?

SFBG: The script contains some of the recurrent themes in your work — identity, secrets, history; were there any other aspects that drew you to it?

AE: It was the study of a marriage. I thought it was a challenge to deal with this issue and this script that was written by a women, dealing with this very specific issue of a woman who feels she’s disappearing, and the crisis that it brings on in her, but also the very extreme action that she takes as a result. She wants to prove her husband is having an affair, and there are other ways of doing that than hiring a prostitute [laughs]. What she wants to do is not just prove he’s having an affair, but re-eroticize an image of him. because she can’t do that herself. There is something that Chloe’s stories are eliciting in her that she’s finding very compelling, and it’s a reconnection with her husband, a connection she once had. Unbeknownst to her, I think Chloe is finding it very powerful telling these stories to her of these encounters which she actually is having, though not necessarily [exactly as she is describing them]. It’s basically the story of these two women’s fantasies colliding in ways that they aren’t necessarily aware of.

SFBG: Did Reitman have something in mind that he wanted to change or add to the original film, a specific reason for wanting a remake? Had you seen Nathalie, and did you think about doing a remake?

AE: That’s the strange thing, I’ll tell you. I did see Nathalie, at the Toronto Film Festival in 2003. I enjoyed the film, and I know [director] Anne Fontaine, she’s a friend, someone I’ve known in Paris. It never would have occurred to me to do a remake. I wouldn’t have thought it was a particularly interesting premise to explore, but Ivan did. And then Ivan hired Erin Cressida Wilson to write the script, and by the time I got the script, it was intriguing. There were problems with it for me — it really pushed the thriller aspect way too far, so I felt it had to be pulled back, because the ending in the script I got was wildly different.

SFBG: Did you change anything else? The names are so tailored to the characters — “Catherine” means “pure,” “Chloe” means “blooming,” and “David” means “beloved” — that I wondered whether you or Erin had chosen them.

AE: Erin did. I think Erin’s incredibly attendant to all those things. She’s a really great writer and it was really a pleasure working with her, but I think there were things she felt she was being pushed to bring forward, certain more formulaic expectations of where the film should go. [Egoyan describes the specifics of making the ending less melodramatic. Redacted to avoid spoilers.] That alteration tonally just changes the whole film. I never wanted to demonize Chloe — I mean, the instigator in all this is Catherine, in a way, and I felt for Chloe and I wanted that to form our sense of who she was.

SFBG: You normally have great compassion for and involvement with your characters — and yet we never really find out anything about Chloe, not even if that’s really her name. Was there originally more story or backstory for her?

AE: Yeah, there was. But I think we must understand through the nature of her interaction with Catherine that there’s something she hasn’t received in her life, and I think we can figure that out, there are clues to that. I just didn’t want to make it too explicit because that felt reductive.

SFBG: She’s not really getting all that much from Catherine, is she?

AE: But she is. And it’s only my interpretation, I never want to assert orthodoxy over these movies, because I want them to be open, but I see that [how she comes to feel about] Catherine, all that she has from Catherine really is that someone is listening to her so attentively, listening to her tell stories about her day-to-day life. She’s paid to be forgotten. When they meet, Chloe’s crying in a bathroom cubicle, there’s some crisis that she’s experiencing, and from the moment that she meets Catherine, although you could say she sees her as a prospective client, I think there’s something in the first gesture, something that Catherine does, in that first touch — Chloe over-responds to it, maybe, but she needs to at that point.

SFBG: I wondered if this difference, that we never find out more about Chloe, was rooted in the fact that you hadn’t written the script.

AE: I have to admit, there is something, in retrospect, talking about it now, almost a year later, to do with Adoration [Egoyan’s 2009 film, starring his wife and longtime collaborator Arsinee Khanjian]. The deployment of exposition in the last part of that movie just doesn’t work for me somehow, when they begin to actually explain who they are. I really love the beginning of that film, the way it’s structured, and the way these [metaphoric] balls are being juggled — I don’t need to know exactly where and why, exactly what Arsinee is doing. Both these films involve  women are trying to get into the house of someone they either are in love with or were in love with. But if you make the comparison with Arsinee’s character in Adoration, the audience cannot have access to why that woman in that strange outfit wants to get into this house. There’s no way that that invites identification, and yet there’s tension and mystery….

SFBG: There was originally also more story and backstory on the son?

AE: Yes, Max Thieriot’s a really wonderful actor and he has a great story, which we had to cut. This will be on the  “deleted scenes” on the DVD. There’s a conversation with Catherine and Chloe about Catherine’s background….

SFBG: How long would the film have been if —

AE: The problem really wasn’t about the length, it just became unwieldy, it didn’t play right.

SFBG: The original script was set here. Was San Francisco’s iconic status as a locus for hedonism and sexual freedom a significant factor in Wilson’s original script?

AE: Yes, but there were things about it that made me recoil, because first, I was trying to wrap my head around the issue, how do you photograph this city in a way that hasn’t been shown before, when it’s been so detailed through films. My attraction to filming in Toronto is that it’s a place with a very distinct iconography — except most people don’t know what it is, so it creates this interesting tension. We’ve shown this film to a lot of people outside of Toronto, especially outside of Canada, and they’re going, “Where. Is. This. Place?” They feel they should know but they don’t.

SFBG: Because we’ve all seen Toronto masquerading as New York.

AE: Exactly. Toronto is like Chloe, paid to be something else. It becomes a controlling metaphor throughout the film.

SFBG: Was it relevant at all to the making of this movie that you and Arsinee had separated?

AE: We’re trying again. But I’ll be honest, it was a tough time for us when I was shooting, so . . . a lot of reflection on marriage. So this ended up being a strange and personal movie, and I was very thankful for Erin to have written it, because there is no way I could have gone to these [emotional] places as I was experiencing that. But we’re in a better place now.

Chloe opens Fri/26 in Bay Area theaters. Go here for Lynn Rapoport’s review of the film in this week’s Guardian.

It lives again — Creature Features rises from the grave

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Seemingly rising from the grave like so many of the monsters and ghouls that it showcased over a 14-year run on local television, the beloved Bay Area show Creature Features is being resurrected once again to satiate fans’ undying thirst for the creepy, kooky and campy.

On Thursday night, John Stanley (who took over hosting the program from the late Bob Wilkins in 1979) will be on hand at the Balboa Theater for a recreation of what an original “Creature Features” episode would have been like circa the early 1980s, including a full feature film, interview segments, mini-movie, and even the vintage commercials that ran during the breaks. This particular show is a rare treat, as many of the original tapings were simply recorded over once they aired, as was the common practice by television stations in those days to save money.

Several of the interviews and segments have survived over the years, however, thanks to Stanley asking for certain tapes to be saved, and also in part to now-official Creature Features archivist Tom Wyrsch collecting tapes and reels during the show’s initial run from 1971 to 1984.

“You have to remember, the show started when there was no VCR, so no one was really thinking in terms of ‘we can get these on tape some day,’” says Stanley. “I was just thinking ‘maybe someday I’ll want to replay that interview,’ if it was with an important actor like Christopher Lee or something.”

One such interview that Stanley is particularly fond of, and will be shown at the event, is an entertaining multi-part chat with Frank Gorshin, perhaps best known for his work playing “The Riddler” in the 1960s “Batman” TV show. “He seemed to just be totally relaxed,” says Stanley. “I think he was quite surprised when he saw I had all these photographs of him, and the amount of preparation that we had put into the interview.”

The main feature will be Horror Express, a 1972 flick starring Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing and Telly Savalas, featuring a monster terrorizing a continent-crossing train, and the evening will also feature one of Stanley’s mini-movies, The Demon Strikes Back, a short not seen since 1980. Fans attending the event can also pick up a new series of DVDs that Stanley and Wyrsch have put together, to take home and relive the experience in their own living rooms on a late Saturday night.

Though it’s been more than 25 years since the show left the air, the people behind it still find a faithful following at event after event throughout the Bay Area.

“It’s amazing to me that Creature Features lives as never before,” says Stanley. “But when those who used to watch the show see it now, they are suddenly transported back through time—it’s like looking through an old photo album or reliving happy moments of one’s adolescence.”

CREATURE FEATURES
Thu/25, 7 p.m., $6.50-$9
Balboa Theater
3630 Balboa, SF
(415) 221-8184
www.balboamovies.com
www.stanleybooks.net

The pool next door

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“Oh yeah, the best part of the job is the swim lessons,” says Al Hardy, senior swim instructor at the newly reopened Hamilton Recreation Center. We were standing at the corner of his new pool, where the San Francisco native worked for 20 years before renovations closed down the lanes two years ago. The center opened back up for business on March 6th. During my visit within weeks of its rebirth it was filled with community members using every aspect of its varied fitness facilities. Clearly, I’m not the only one that’s stoked my neighborhood has a swimming pool once again.

San Francisco has approximately 808,976 people living within its city limits. SF Parks and Recreation operates nine public swimming pools, each a major boon to their communities, which if you average them out amount to 89,886 people per pool. That’s a lot of floaty toys. 

Hardy is happy that once again, the Western Addition neighborhood can take a dip. We watched local high school swim teams race up and down the lanes- the swim teacher himself swam competitively through his youth and his years at Lincoln High School- and Hardy tells me “the kids love it here. But a lot of people that come through say that it’s long overdue.” Admission to the pool is only a dollar for kids under 18, five for adults- manageable even for the families of Western Addition, where a lot of the city’s low income housing is situated.

Four out of five babies agree: Hamilton Rec Center beats bathtime

The changes wrought through two years of renovations constitute a definite upgrade in the center’s services. “The pool is the major draw,” says Cherease Coates, one of the center’s fitness directors. Maybe that’s the centerpiece, but the facilities were all pretty impressive, starting with sprawling outside playground areas, each cluster appropriate for a different age group and foam floored- free of the sand that can cause health concerns.

There were major changes inside, too. “This is a total 180 from what we had before,” Coates comments as we survey the sweeping, floor length windows that illuminate the swimming pool where before stood a blank wall. 

In the gym, a new ecosystem of pickup hoop games was already in full flourish, along with a schedule that can accommodate casual games whenever the center is open. An adult league is in the works for this summer.

“We’ve been talking to the community to see what they want from this place,” Coates tells me. “It’s important to them to have this time to play.” The teams on-court were framed nicely by the new facelift; adjustable backboards, perfect for when the little ones want to ball out, and new paint everywhere, with much of the bleacher space removed for reasons Coates doesn’t quite understand.

And then I saw it. Sparkling, pristine- the fitness room. Free weights, cardio machines- an elliptical? Compared to the “makeshift” setup Coates recalls from before the renovations, this is major. The equipment is available for free public use everyday — Hamilton holds special, women-only hours on Wednesdays from 5-7 p.m. and Saturdays 10 a.m.- noon. 

I left high on the new center’s possibilities. Rooms for my next birthday party? A full schedule of fitness and art classes? A reason to ditch my high priced gym membership and get fit with my community? Welcome back to the neighborhood, Hamilton.

Hamilton Rec Center

1900 Geary, SF

(415) 292-2008

www.sfgov.org

 

Street Threads: Look of the Day

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Today’s Look: Andy, Clay and Polk

Tell us about your look: “I like clothes to fit.”

Appetite: The shots heard (and tasted) ’round the world

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It’s fast approaching: the 11th Annual Whiskies of the World — happening on Sat/27 — is a must for all whisk(e)y lovers. Four full hours in the Hotel Nikko (dress respectably: no T-shirts or shorts, in keeping with the level of fine imbibements) are dedicated to sampling as much fine whisky or whiskey, scotch, and bourbon as you can. Check out the vendor list and strategize ahead of time or you might find yourself adrift in this whiskey wonderland.

It will be my first time at WOW, as it’s called, though the similar Whiskyfest is one of my favorite events all year. There are seminars on the brown stuff, small batch distillers (like Oregon’s excellent Bend Distillery) offering a break from and contrast to all that whisk(e)y with everything from grappa to eau di vie, plenty of buffet-style food to soak it up, chocolate and fudge pairings, mixologist booths if you want it in a cocktail, and live music from Bushmills Pipe and Drum Band, with raucous Irish bagpipes.

Line-up early for your seminar/s of choice, happening in three different rooms simultaneously, you might choose to engage in The Great Whisk(e)y Debate on the merits of bourbon vs. scotch vs. Canadian, or sit in with the wonderful Steve Beal, who’ll walk you through Classic Malts of Scotland (loved his class at Whiskyfest and he says this is essentially the same class). Moonshine Renaissance is a timely topic from the perspective of Joe Michalek, founder of Piedmont Distillers in NC, and the Craft Panel Discussion is fine lineup of four distillers, like Brian Ellison of Death’s Door to the great Fritz Maytag of Anchor Brewing, discussing craft distilling across the country.

There are parties (Occidental Cigar Bar and Bourbon & Branch) and dinners (Nihon Lounge) the two nights before, though note some are for WOW’s Dram Club members only, which anyone can sign up for. Sip, discover and enjoy, adhering to the old Irish proverb: “What whiskey will not cure, there is no cure for.”

Sat/27
VIP: 5:15pm, $120
General: 6-10pm, $110
Hotel Nikko, 222 Mason, SF
(408) 225-0446
www.hotelnikkosf.com
www.whiskiesoftheworld.com

Street Threads: Look of the Day

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Today’s Look: Cecilia, 24th Street and Noe

Tell us about your look: “I used to own a consignment store and I got these clothes there.”

 

 

“Repo Men” not exactly full of tense situations

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By Peter Galvin

If you are considering going to see Repo Men you’ll need to go ahead and turn off your brain first — the guy who wrote it sure did. The script is jam-packed with contrivances and tonal inconsistencies, which is a shame because the plot had potential.

In a near future when mechanical replacement organs are a reality, Jude Law plays Remy, an ex-soldier hired by the Union to find recipients that cannot afford their bills and repossess their artificial organs to return to the manufacturer. After a freak accident, Remy needs a replacement organ himself and when he can’t pay, the Union sends his childhood friend and ex-partner Jake (Forest Whitaker) to retrieve it. Repo Men is at its best when it embraces its cartoonishness, when the film is so stupid that it transcends the hodge-podge story and glows with goofy grotesque action. If you can, stick around ‘til the climax that includes an Old Boy (2003) homage (rip-off) and one of the more laugh-out-loud ridiculous endings I’ve seen in a long time. But high-art, this ain’t.

Repo Men is now playing in Bay Area theaters.

Project One’s mural community

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There’s a mural by my work I pass everyday that is visually astounding. It’s a super burner- a big, looping maze of letters, or maybe just design, that must represent in its whorls every color of the rainbow. It takes up the street side of a long building on a background of black-on-black fluer de lis design at Turk and Mason. Not to trivialize the sweet and sour roughness of ‘Loin life, but it gives the dope heads, the police cruisers and the general down-and-outery of the ‘hood an air of artistry. 

You don’t see color like that just anywhere.

Which was why it was so nice to put a face to the piece during my trip down to Project One gallery to check out their current show “Four Squared,” a collaborative project between Chor Boogie, Apex One, Jet Martinez, and David Chong Lee. Apex One (who spray painted the mural in the Tenderloin) was there putting up a fresh new entryway sign for the gallery, and we got the chance to chat on how the group partnership came to be.

“We all knew each other,” Apex, an SF native, tells me. In what sounds like a phone tree among soccer moms, the four creative graf art legends decided to create what now hangs in Project One- two huge murals, each made of 90 square foot pieces that gallery owner Brooke Waterhouse hopes will enable the younger art fans to buy a piece of the action. 

Check out “Foursquared” at Project One to see Apex One’s entry way design, pictured here mid spray

“I’ve been waiting to do that for awhile; have it set up so you can take a piece of the mural home with you,” says Apex. Painting largely simultaneously (check the vid here for installation shots), the artists created wall sized wonderlands that loosely relate their motifs to each other. A Boogie bird nestles on a Chong Lee design. It makes you wonder what would happen if street artists could drop the tag-on-tag wars forever and instead use their designs to augment the craft already on the wall in front of them. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Project One is also featuring individual works by each of the men on opposing walls from their group effort. They act as a stylistic key to the murals. Here, you can pick out Jet Martinez’s delicate cherry blossom sprigs- there, a lavender tag by Apex, its chunky and curved three dimensional form reminiscent of the architectural detailing on the Victorians he grew up amidst. Chor Boogie’s polychromed tiling work, Chong Lee’s eyeball studded Death Star.

It’s an engaging show to check out in the comfortable space at Project One, happy hour beer in hand. Nicer still? Well, for one, the fact that spring is here. More to the point, the fact that, somewhere, chances are that one of these guys is painting on a wall to beautify your walk to work. And for that, let’s give thanks.

 

“Four Squared”

through April 5th

Project One gallery

251 Rhode Island, SF

(415) 938-7173

www.p1sf.com

Cinnamon buns: your gateway drug to hardcore vegan sweets?

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By Robyn Johnson

For all you vegan sweet snackum lovers — and curious crumb-lappers — the ladies behind Fat Bottom Bakery and Cinnaholic have a sale on Sat/20 that you just might egg-free love.

They’ll be hosting the second East Bay Vegan Bakesale, right outside of Issues (‘Magazines and More!”) on Glen Avenue in North Oakland. Personally, I’ve had a rocky relationship with vegan baked foods, but these Cinnaholic cinnamon buns might finally be the gateway pastry to bring me over to the animal product-free side, at least for frequent visits:

Proceeds go to the Haitian Emergency Relief Fund and Animal Place, a farm animal sanctuary.

Vegan Bake Sale
Sat/20, 11am-4pm
Issues
20 Glen Avenue, Oakl.
510-652-5700
www.issuesshop.com

Trash Lit: Spenser says goodbye in ‘The Professional’

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The Professional
Robert B. Parker
Penguin Books, 289 pages, $26.99

I just read the last Spenser novel, ever.

That’s a hard sentence to write. Spenser’s been around a long time, and I’ve read all 37 of Robert B. Parker’s classic tough-guy detective books, and even though they all have the same characters, similar plots, similar dialogue and similar themes, they’re all good. Every last one of them.

And I think it’s probably a good thing that this was the last one of them. I don’t know if Parker realized he was coming to the end of his life as he wrote The Professional, but you get the sense that Spenser is coming to the end of his. Not that the guy’s going to die – like Travis McGee, Spenser will long outlive his creator. But this book has a sort of melancholy sadness to it, a sweet sort of swan song feeling, and by the time you get to the end, you sense that Spenser’s pretty much done.

The plot is typical Parker: A sleazy con man is seducing young women who have rich older husbands. He videotapes the encounters and then threatens the clueless chicks with blackmail. He wants money, big money, or he’ll tell the hubbies – and the days of living large (and waiting to inherit the cash) will come to an end. The women are afraid to go to the cops, of course, so they go to Spenser. His job is to make the con man back off.

It’s the sort of thing that in an earlier version of Spenser would have been too simple to drag out into an entire novel. He’d go with his buddy Hawk, warn the sleazeball that the future was looking pretty shaky, maybe smack him around a bit just for good measure, the dude would split town and all would be well.

But this time, Spenser can’t do it. He almost kinda likes the creep, who is utterly straightforward about his lust for young women, his love for the chase and the score and his gleeful wonder at the fact that he’s figured out a way to make money at the game. Spenser and his main squeeze, Harvard shrink Susan Silverman, puzzle over the bad guy, polyamory relationships and the ethics of sex, while one of the rich hubbies, who has figured things out, sends two dumb-as-a-box-of-rocks thugs to kill Mr. Smooth. So Spenser has to stop them, but as it turns out, he kind of likes the thugs, too, since they are, after all, totally authentic: Marginal men who realize they have no value to society except for their ability to be half-rate muscle.

In the end, there’s a murder, and Spenser makes everything (almost) right. But his heart really isn’t in it.

In fact, this is the first and only Spenser book I’ve ever read that had an overdone edge to it. The dialogue is what makes Parker’s stuff work, and the interactions between Spenser and Silverman and Hawk in The Professional were predictable and dull. It’s as if the master of modern pot-boilers, the Man himself, Robert B. Parker, author of more than 50 top-rate books, was finally running out of steam.

There are the usual literary references (including a nice plug for Janet Evanovich, one of my longtime faves), but they seemed forced. The violence is tired. I was almost ready to give up, but I stuck around for the end, which was worthwhile – if only because it told me that this was the last we’d be hearing from Spenser.

The Professional reminded me of The Green Ripper, John D. MacDonald’s latter-era McGee book, where the author is clearly done with the character but cranks him up for one last stand, one final favor to the fans, a victory lap that gets more and more painful as it nears the finish line.

If you’re a Parker fan, you need to read The Professional. It’s a wake, of sorts; a chance to say goodbye. And it may have been Parker’s way to telling his fans that the fun is finally over.

Google sez bike this way

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Just in time for the sun’s critically acclaimed debut, the Internets has once again plotted to increase our digital dependence. Google Maps now has a bicycling option!

If you’re a biker in San Francisco or Oakland, you don’t need me to tell you that you gotta pick your routes around these cities. One false move and you’re falling into the ruts of MUNI train tracks or on a freeway on-ramp (don’t laugh, it happens… to me). But no longer, or at least less often, will you have to deal with these small catastrophes.

Just type in your start and finish and the Goog has your most two wheel friendly route between A and B sorted. Sure, it’s basically an algorithm that connects the marked paths and wide shoulders easily visible on your SF Bike Map– Google’s still at beta when it comes to the ins and outs of our city’s considerable altitude changes, or our multi-tiered, if not hierarchical ways of getting the bridge and tunnelers in and out of here. A quick search for the route between my pad and my night job advised me to head up Eddy Street, which my quads tend to eschew for the less demarcated, but more planar blocks of Turk and Golden Gate. And tell the site you’re headed for a wild night out from SF to East Bay to see that new William T. Wiley showing at UC Berkeley and the site will recommend pedaling across the Bay Bridge- via the Ferry Building. But they’re trying, goddammit.

At least now your out of town houseguests won’t wind up hyperventilating on Van Ness Avenue on that loaner cruiser bike anymore. So for today, digital corporate megalith, you get golf claps- you are one step closer to becoming the website I go to for everything, all the time, always.

Personal shopping at Collage Clothing

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The perfect wardrobe is a collection of vintage beauties and trendy new things, but shopping in this form takes devotion. Thrashing through thrift stores may not be your style and consignment shops often have a tendency to overwhelm with rack after rack of fashion-flops. Alas, Collage Clothing and its queen bee Erica Skone-Rees are making your life easier. The closet-size shop in Potrero Hill hosts an ever-changing assortment of local designers, consignment and vintage pieces, meaning you can leave the hunting and gathering to someone else. 

 

Every inch in the adorable shop is carefully attended— manager and buyer Skone-Rees is a former merchandiser with a gift for making each item in the store look irresistible. Collage Clothing opened its French doors in November as the new neighbor to its mother store, Collage Gallery, an 18-year-old, Potrero Hill staple for vintage furniture and locally made jewelry. 

 

The front-window display alone is enough to get people inside and browsing— from mannequins to antiques, Skone-Rees rearranges the display every two days, paying mind to details and setting up featured items as if they were famed works of art. 

 

“Runners will go by in the morning and send me emails once they get home, telling me ‘the window looked great today’,” she says with a proud smile. “And guys from Blooms (Bar across the street) will stand outside, smoking their cigarettes and watch me change the display. People really get a kick out of this window.”

 

The store carries items for both men and women, and if you’re clueless about what to try on or just in need of some direction, Skone-Rees is one to ask. The first time I went into the shop, I came out with a sexy blue-suede dress straight out of the 90s. Skone-Rees and I chatted while I walked around the store in my new body-glove, chatting like we were old pals. As special as it was, Skone-Rees offers this kind of big-sister service to all of her customers. 

 

“This store is like my baby— I eat, sleep and breath Collage and I love it.”

 

Each month Collage Clothing and Collage Gallery host a double-trunk show, offering customers a chance to meet and greet local designers, buy up some goods and toast with champagne. This month’s event— Thurs/18 from 6-9pm— features the FLEECE-A-NISTA collection by Jeanne Feldkamp and Topi Hat Designs. 

 

Check out the gallery for current items hot on the rack this week.


Collage Clothing

1331 18th St

(between Texas St & Missouri St) 

San Francisco, CA 94107

(415) 755-8306

www.collage-gallery.com/

 

Oh “Mother,” where art thou?

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You can guarantee that a movie titled Mother is not gonna be a love fest, ever. And through the lens of The Host (2006) director-writer Bong Joon-ho, motherly love becomes downright monstrous — though altogether human.

Much credit goes to the wonderful lead actress Kim Hye-ja as the titular materfamilias, who’s frantically self-sacrificing, insanely tenacious, quaintly charming, wolfishly fearsome, and wildly guilt-ridden, by turns. On the surface, she’s a sweetly innocuous herbalist and closet acupuncturist — happily, and a wee bit too tightly, tethered to her beloved son Yoon Do-joon (Won Bin). He’s a slow-witted, forgetful, and easily confused mop-top who flies into deadly rages when taunted or called a “‘tard.” When Do-joon is quickly arrested and charged with the murder of schoolgirl Moon Ah-jung (Mun-hee Na), Mom snaps into action with a panic-stricken, primal ferocity and goes in search of the killer to free her boy. But there’s more to Do-joon, his studly pal Jin-tae (Ku Jin), and Moon Ah-jung than meets the eye, and Mother discovers just how much she’s defined, and twisted, herself in relation to her son. Bong gives this potentially flat and cliched noirish material genuine lyricism, embedding his anti-heroine in a rural South Korean landscape like a penitent wandering in an existential desert, gently echoing filmmakers such as Ingmar Bergman and Abbas Kiarostami and beautifully transcending genre.

Mother opens Fri/19 in Bay Area theaters.

Uproot: Feminism and the food movement

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By Robyn Johnson

Peggy Orenstein’s essay “The Femivore’s Dilemma” has caused a bit of a dither, but then gender issues never make for easy conversation. Some light mocking has arisen over Orenstein’s coinage of the term femivore, which, as has been pointed out in innumerous blog comments, means one who eats women. But yes, I think we can agree it’s intended as a portmanteau of feminist and locavore. And it’s the relationship that she draws between these two movements as a way to redefine homemaking that has many people talking.


Orenstein writes:

“Femivorism is grounded in the very principles of self-sufficiency, autonomy and personal fulfillment that drove women into the work force in the first place. Given how conscious (not to say obsessive) everyone has become about the source of their food — who these days can’t wax poetic about compost? — it also confers instant legitimacy. Rather than embodying the limits of one movement, femivores expand those of another: feeding their families clean, flavorful food; reducing their carbon footprints; producing sustainably instead of consuming rampantly. What could be more vital, more gratifying, more morally defensible?”

And this had been troubling for both feminists and food movementists. Do homemakers need to be legitimized by raising their own chickens instead of shopping at Safeway? Do these gender roles even matter anymore for third-wave feminism? Is this just useless “hand-wringing” over what is really a non-issue in terms of food politics?

I, myself, am a little uncomfortable at drawing a more feminist-than-thou distinction between the urban homesteader and the regular Walmart-patronizing stay-at-home mom. But I understand the anxieties that Orenstein discusses, and I would lying if I said that never experience doubt time to time when I do traditionally sanctioned “women’s work.” The legacy of the previous waves runs deep for a lot of us.

I also agree that this conversation needs to happen as more and more dialogue, like this NYT piece by Michael Pollan, addresses the problems of processed food by imploring both sexes to return to the kitchen, a place, still very symbolically loaded for many women, that will need redefinition.

What do you think?

Appetite: Scotch dreams come true

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For someone whose every day is a taste adventure, I will say a recent, private Russell’s Room tasting at Bourbon & Branch of Highland Park scotches was one of the most memorable I’ve ever been privileged to be a part of. There were only two such tastings in the country: here and in New York. I felt lucky to be one of less than 10 around the table (and only 2 women – scotch remains predominantly a man’s world?) tasting HP’s awesome 18, 25, 30 and 40 year scotches. But the magnificent centerpiece was a just-released, $3999 per bottle, limited-edition 1968 vintage. 

At Whiskyfest last year, HP’s 30-year was among my favorites. To take it two steps further (the 40 year alone is a $2000 per bottle imbibement), was my Scotch dream come true.

HP brand ambassador, Martin Daraz, is a charming, hilarious host. Add in pairings from cheese guru, Wil Edwards, of SF Cheese School, and it was unforgettable. All five cheeses were thrilling, from a gorgeous, balanced Abbaye de Belloc, produced by Benedictine monks, to the butterscotch notes of Saenkanter Gouda. Who could choose favorites among such uniquely different cheeses? I couldn’t believe the grainy, melt-in-your-mouth intensity of a goat’s milk Bleu du Bocage… surprisingly, it did not overpower HP’s 25-year scotch. Isle of Mull Cheddar (from Scotland, naturally), is a memorable ivory-colored cheddar made from happy cows who’ve been ingesting spent whiskey grain. If this is an example of the wide-reaching range of cheeses Wil can lead you through, I’d sign up for one of his classes at the Cheese School now.

Back to Highland Park’s ‘68 vintage… it literally defined “smooth”, with a gentle sweetness, refined toasted oak notes, and hints of spice. I don’t know how else to describe the finish other than that it keeps going. One layer unfolds after the other… as I was in conversation after our last glass, wave after wave of flavor continued to roll over my tongue. If you ever get near a bottle, taste and consider yourself lucky.

“Remember Me” is — you guessed it — forgettable

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Ominously set in New York City during the summer of 2001, Remember Me, starring Robert Pattinson (of the Twilight series) and Emilie de Ravin (of TV’s Lost), pretty much answers the question of whether it’s still too soon to make the events of September 11 the subject of a date movie.

Or rather, not the subject so much as the specter waiting just off-camera for its walk-on while brooding 21-year-old Tyler Hawkins (Pattinson) quotes Gandhi, gets into brawls, gets drunk, writes letters to his dead brother, and otherwise channels despondency and rage into various salubrious outlets. One of these is romancing (under circumstances severely testing the viewer’s credulity) de Ravin’s Ally Craig, grappling somewhat more constructively with her own familial tragedy. Ally is the sort of self-possessed, strong-willed young woman whose instincts, shortly after she’s been backhanded by her drunk father (Chris Cooper), tell her to placate and have sex with her drunk boyfriend when he comes home enraged after battling his own father (Pierce Brosnan). She is there to teach Tyler, through quirky habits like eating dessert first, what director Allen Coulter (2006’s Hollywoodland) wishes to teach us: that time is short and one must fill one’s life with meaningful actions — like throwing a fire extinguisher through a window to convince a classroom of tweens to stop bullying one’s little sister. The film is seeded with allusions to an impending catastrophe that feels less integrated than exploited. And it’s uncomfortable seeing the fall of the towers used to make the ground shake under a sweet, fairly depthless depiction of love and grief.

Remember Me opens today in Bay Area theaters.

Take off your clothes! World Naked Bike Ride, spring edition

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Strap on your helmet and strip down to your skin— it’s time to ride bikes in the buff. San Francisco regularly participates in the ‘Northern Hemisphere’ World Naked Bike Ride each summer, but Saturday (3/13) marks the city’s first inclusion in the Southern Hemisphere’s jaunt. Spring or summer, the ride aims to expose the dangers bicyclists and pedestrians face in a car-dominated culture and to protest against “indecent exposure to vehicle emissions.”  

Bay Area bicyclists will join pedaling nudes in Sydney, Cape Town, Lima, and other Southern parts of the globe this weekend, flashing their junk on two wheels for a “critical mass with a lenient dress code.” The crowd will cruise from Justin Herman Plaza to Golden Gate Park, stopping at City Hall for a photo shoot. Because this is the virgin spring fling, the group may be small, but definitely not shy.

Interested in joining but feeling a little insecure about disrobing? Here a few tit-bits of advice from bare-skinned veteran, George Davis.

1. Wear sunscreen— sunburned genitalia isn’t sexy or fun.
2. Wear a bike helmet; decorate it and the rest of your exposed self.
3. Think of your unclothed body as freedom from speed-slowing textiles.
4. Revel in the thumbs up from police and bask in the rock star status you’ll receive while cruising through Fisherman’s Wharf.
5. You are “natural gas powered”— to hell with oil dependency.

And a few more sensitive items to consider:

1. Shoes are good. Pedals are rough on bare toes.
2. Smile! People may photograph you. Be proud and confident. Slouching is never flattering.
3. If you’re hesitant about putting your pussy on the seat or getting your long schlong caught in the chain, wear some cute undies.
4. Children are allowed— non-sexualized nudity is not harmful to young eyes.
5. Worried you’re not ‘hot enough’ to bare all? Damn Gina, everyone looks good when they’re riding green.

Southern Hemisphere Naked Bike Ride
Sat/13, Noon
Meet at Justin Herman Plaza, just North of the huge fountain with all the cubic shapes
(Market and Steuart)
www.SFBikeRide.org


 

Hydrolyzed vegetable protein paste — now with more salmonella!

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By Robyn Johnson

If you love hydrolyzed vegetable protein paste and/ or powder — you know, that savory flavoring that is nearly ubiquitous in processed foods — then you might want to check out this list just put out by the FDA. It’s a growing product recall for possible salmonella contamination. 

Basic Food Flavors, the Nevada-based manufacturer of the bad-batch HPV in question, recently issued the recall and its extensive client list has begun to follow suit, including PepsiCo Inc., Pringles, Proctor and Gamble, and Nestle, (and a whole host to come). As of right now the FDA lists 149 products, with a wide range of foods from dressing mix to corn bread stuffing, but Business Week is reporting that the number could soon reach 10,000 — making it the one of, if not the, largest recall of processed foods in history.

Before we panic, the same article also reports that the risk to the consumer is low considering most foods using HPV are cooked before consumption. No illnesses have been reported, but you still might want to hedge your bets and over-microwave those Jose Ole taquitos or refrain from eating ready to eat products, like Taco Night-flavored Pringles.

And while it’s all very fine and well that the consumer will probably not be subjected to mass salmonella-poisoning, people, including well-regarded people like Marion Nestle, are taking a very dim view that Basic Food Flavors waited approximately one month after FDA testing found the potentially fatal bacteria in their processing plant to issue the recall. Is it time to expand the FDA’s power in the face of a less than conscientious corporate food culture?

Dare you take offense at Steven Wolf Fine Arts?

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Keith Boadwee is a fascinating artist. Known for his outrageous self-portraits — which combine media that include but are not limited to photography, performance art, painting, self-administered enemas, and pornography — his work is unorthodox to say the least. Boadwee has photographed himself in situations that 99.999% of the world would probably rather die (like for real die) than experience for themselves, and he kills himself fearlessly (see NSFW — I repeat NSFW — images on his Web site). Viewing Boadwee’s work in a gallery setting, such as that of Steven Wolf Fine Arts, is like experiencing the collision of someone’s private world with your own public forehead.

Boadwee’s “Denim on Ice” exhibit there — consisting of works he made with his former students Erin Allen and Issac Gray — evokes the demented scribblings of a disturbed child, albeit one with a great sense of humor. In a more hostile environment, these painting would be legitimately disturbing. Seen together as they are, crowded onto a single gallery wall, the effect is still one of something totally crazy, though overall harmless. Even weirder: the paintings in this exhibit, with their wholly unsophisticated content, evoke the high expressionism of artists like Matisse and Muehl. My favorite piece in “Denim on Ice” was the still-life rendering you see above, “Titties and Milk,” a strange composition of breasts, a glass of milk, and a hat-wearing cactus (who has a face).

“Lincoln Log Bong” by Boadwee, Allen, and Gray

The gallery describes “Denim on Ice” as “paintings that take low humor and bad taste so far they come around again as refinement.” To me this feels accurate. The paintings are in such absurdly bad taste that it’s difficult to imagine how taste level can possibly go lower. While I wouldn’t call any of the work particularly “refined,” the collection displays its subterranean brow so cheerfully that you can’t help but smile and enjoy the ride.

“Birmingham I” by Rives Granade

Paintings “Birmingham I” and “Birmingham II” by Rives Granade — also on display in the gallery in a collection called “Love Force” — pluck figures from famous civil rights photos and transpose them into the sterility of corporate architecture. The effect is uncanny in the strictest Freudian sense. The old black and white photographs of the Birmingham freedom marches, with their nightmarish displays of police brutality, disturb and shame us deeply. In light of the past, the instinctive reaction upon viewing these new paintings is to cry blasphemy. Upon further examination, viewers will note that these paintings are not actually politically irresponsible.

“Birmingham II” by Rives Granade

The images, which draw from the firmament of political history, invite viewers to draw new moral comparisons. The past is still present in Granade’s re-contextualized paintings, camouflaged but not erased. The brutality of that past is obvious, even in an ahistorical setting that seems, for all its artifice and architecture, like a Hobbesian state of nature.

Keith Boadwee, Erin Allen, and Isaac Gray: “Denim on Ice”
Rives Granade: “Love Force”
Through March 20
Steven Wolf Fine Arts
49 Geary Street
www.stevenwolffinearts.com

Appetite: Fill your Irish self to the gills at the Liberties

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St. Patty’s Day draws near — for more wild Irish events, check out our rundown in the current Guardian.

The Liberties Bar & Restaurant has always been a welcome respite from some Irish bars: a place where you can kick it up with friends but not so rowdy that you can’t have conversation or a reflective pint. (I particularly like the room tucked to the side with quotes painted on the walls.) It celebrates St. Patty’s all week long with a special Irish menu and long pours of Guinness, Kilkenny, Smithwick’s and Harp. Oh, there’s also plenty of Irish whiskey, like Midleton Rare 21 year, Red Breast 12 year and Black Bush. Irish brunch, beer and whiskey flights round out the week, along with live music on St. Patrick’s Day.

The menu offers crowd-pleasing corned beef and cabbage ($14), cottage pie ($10 – with grass-fed beef, naturally), and bangers and mash ($15). Or go straight to fish and chips ($15) or an Irish potato pancake ($11) sporting smoked salmon. Irish whiskey flights explore various parts of the island, from Fightin’ Irish ($12), a flight highlighting family-owned distilleries, to King of the Emerald Isle ($8), an affordable jaunt through three Irish powerhouses: John Powers, Old Bushmills, Jamesons.

There’s no need to be fighting Irish when St. Patty’s is this raucously delectable.

March 13-19
998 Guerrero Street
415-282-6789
www.theliberties.com

Check out Virginia Miller’s personal dining itinerary site www.theperfectspotsf.com for more food deals and news.

Zambaleta dances from day into night

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Story and photos by Elise-Marie Brown

From the depths of the Mission District rose a 12-hour Carnaval event on Saturday. Hosted by Zambaleta, a new world music and dance school, it brought infectious dancing, live samba music, drinks and traditional Latin American cuisine.

The event began at 11 a.m., offering improvisational sketches, Hafla, Flamenco dancing and a Turkish marching precession. The aroma of ambrosial $2 tamales was the air of the large but cozy studio, as patrons sipped sangria and swayed to the rhythms of the congas. The sides of the room were adorned with iridescent lights and vibrant multi-color banners, giving life to the converted dance hall. Red, white and green doors were pianted on the walls, creating a dancing-in-the-streets atmosphere.

Live music reigned supreme towards the end of the night, as guests twirled and stomped on the dance floor to the sounds of Colombia Parranda with Tambores de Colombia. Whether it was the echoing voice of the singer or the rumbling punch of the bass, almost everyone in the room felt the music one way or another. Some of the more shy guests stood in the back as the, while others in the front took to the dance floor as if it was their second home.

The last performance to top off the evening was a Samba dance led by Blocura. With only the rattles of beaded gourds and chest-pumping beat of the drums, four dancers jumped in front of the middle and proceeded to dip, turn and clap as they everyone in the final dance of the night. The crowd quickly caught on and soon turned into a sea of bodies moving in unison, as cheers and whistles. People left with sweat tearing down their cheeks and smiles of elation, an indicator that this new gem in the Mission is here to stay.

Live Shots: Literary Death Match, Elbo Room, 02/12/2010

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In honor of the upcoming installment of the Bay’s wondrous Literary Death Match — Fri/12, 6:30, $10 at Elbo Room, 647 Valencia, SF. — here are some pics from last month’s raucous Valentine’s Day edition. It was a fight for love … to the death!