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Mayor McLaughlin on synthetic biology issue

Sasha Cuttler
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Mayor McLaughlin on synthetic biology issue

For my story about synthetic biology in this week’s Guardian, I tried to reach Mayor Gayle McLaughlin of Richmond, where Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory is building its second campus. The group Synbiowatch is questioning the safety and environmental responsibility of these new technologies. McLaughlin was traveling and just got back to us, so we thought we’d share the perspective of a Green Party mayor of the city where this work will take place.

SFBG: Do you have any concerns about safety at the lab or with the regulation of the synthetic biology field?

GM: I understand that this issue is extremely important. I was at the symposium “Unmasking the Synthetic Biology Lab” held in Berkeley last week and have been learning about the risks and concerns related to this field.

SFBG: Are you worried that we’re entering another “economic bubble,” this time with so-called “green jobs,” and that it could pop like previous bubbles and end up hurting Richmond?

GM: I think that green and sustainable job development will continue, as there is an absolute necessity for our human survival that we create a sustainable planet on which to live and thrive as well as pass along to future generations.

SFBG: The activists say the Precautionary Principle should dictate a slower and more careful and regulated approach to developing newly engineered microorganisms, do you share that view?

GM: I absolutely agree. There needs to a slow and deliberate process that fully researches and regulates this new engineering. I believe that science has a responsibility to examine step by step what is in the interest of us all as human beings – what truly advances us and what may cause us more problems.

SFBG: While the lab diversifies Richmond’s economy, much this research is funded by and could ultimately by developed by Chevron and other big energy companies. Is that appropriate for research into new energy forms that is sponsored with public money?

GM: I agree that the lab diversifies Richmond’s economy and I support opportunities it offers our community that come from positive, safe and healthy scientific exploration, education, and job opportunities. 

The fact that big energy corporations are funding much of the research definitely brings up concerns for me. We need to make sure that science is not conducted with an eye toward profit-making, but rather for the advancement of humanity. We know that our society currently is corporate-run, so we need to continuously raise the issue that true science has an obligation not to the corporations but to the people. This issue is something that should be raised everywhere.

Reject the CPMC deal

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EDITORIAL For most of the past year, Mayor Ed Lee had been taking a tough line with California Pacific Medical Center, the health-care giant that wants to build a state-of-the-art 555-bed hospital on Cathedral Hill. The mayor had been telling a stunningly recalcitrant CMPC management that the outfit would have to put upwards of $70 million into affordable housing and spent millions more on transit, neighborhood and charity-care programs to mitigate the impacts of the massive project.

But late in March, something happened. Under immense pressure from the Chamber of Commerce and other big business groups, the mayor buckled and agreed to a deal with woefully inadequate mitigation measures. The supervisors should reject the plan and force CPMC to do better.

The biggest problem with a project this size is the mix of jobs and housing. Lee is properly concerned about creating jobs in a city where unemployment in some neighborhoods is stubbornly high. But the proposed deal only guarantees a tiny fraction of the 1,500 permanent new jobs for San Francisco residents.

That means a city that has almost zero vacancy in affordable housing is going to have to absorb a workforce much of which won’t be able to buy or rent anything at current market rates. That means more competition for scarcer housing and higher rents and home costs for everyone.

By any basic planning logic, CPMC should be on the hook for providing enough affordable housing for at least some reasonable percentage of its workforce. Instead, the hospital chain is offering about $33 million, only $3 million of which will be paid up front. That won’t even address half of the housing impact. Besides, the jobs will be there when construction starts, and more when the hospital opens; the limited affordable housing money will come much later. The highest-paid doctors and administrators may be able to afford the pricey new market-rate condos the city is madly approving — but where, exactly, are the nurses, orderlies, clerks, janitors and other health-care workers going to live?

CPMC has agreed to provide charity care at the same level is currently does — which is abysmally low, among the lowest of all nonprofit hospital chains in California. So that’s not an advantage.

And it has promised to keep open St. Luke’s Hospital in the Mission — the only full-service hospital other than SF General in the southeast part of town. But the proposal calls for cutting the number of beds by nearly two-thirds, from 229 to 80. And it allows for the closure of that hospital if CPMC’s system-wide operating margin falls below 1 percent (something that will be hard for the city to challenge, since CPMC handles the books).

It’s cynical how CPMC is using this critical medical facility in an underserved area as a bargaining chip. Already, hospital lobbyists are warning that St. Luke’s will be shut down if they don’t get what they want on Cathedral Hill.

Meanwhile, CPMC has labor trouble and is refusing to guarantee that existing employees at facilities that will be demolished will be able to keep their jobs and seniority at the new hospital.

We realize that CPMC needs to build a new facility to replace aging and seismically unsafe structures elsewhere in town. But the hospital chain also has a responsibility to address the impacts this project will have on San Francisco. And right now, it’s not a good deal.

Green shopping guide: 8 shops to jump-start your spring garden

Andrew Lam
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You can turn your slice of this concrete jungle into jungle, with a bit of elbow grease and ingenuity. Oh, and resources might help, too. Whether you’re looking to build a succulent-laden sanctuary, an extensive drip irrigation system, or a simple window box, our local gardening centers and shops have you covered. Come for the enthusiastic and knowledgeable staffs, quirky clientele, and a chance to momentarily forget you live in a hectic city.

Flora Grubb Gardens

For those of us who like our plants and gardening implements flawlessly presented to us, Flora Grubb’s where it’s at. A gardening virgin won’t escape this place without picking up something beautiful and fertile.

Mon.-Sat. 9am-6pm; Sun. 10am-6pm 1634 Jerrold, SF. (415) 626-7256, www.floragrubb.com

Succulence

Let’s face it, succulents are sexy. Find your ideal water-retaining plant at this Bernal Heights spot. Note: succulents make great gifts for people who inadvertently tend to kill plants due to irresponsible and spotty watering practices.

Tuesday-Saturday 11 a.m.-7 p.m.; Sunday 11 a.m.-6 p.m. 402 Cortland, SF. (415) 282-2212, www.thesucculence.com

Paxton Gate

Part beautifully curated plant shop, part just as beautifully curated animal bone and rock store, Paxton Gate provides ideal materials to build the best terrarium of your life or the lush garden you’ve always wanted. They also have a taxidermied unicorn.

11am-7pm 824 Valencia, SF. (415) 824-1872, www.paxtongate.com

Berkeley Horticultural Nursery

Whether you’re looking for a Persian mulberry tree or sugar moon roses, the friendly and knowledgeable staff here is well-equipped to help you craft your dream garden.

9am-5:30pm Closed Thursdays. 1310 McGee, Berk. (510) 526-4704, www.berkeleyhort.com

Flowercraft Garden Center

If alpine poppies, snapdragons, and marygolds make you giddy, head over to Flowercraft. Their selection of flowers, succulents, and soils is quite extensive. 

Mon.-Fri. 8:30am-6pm; Sat. 8:30am-5:30pm; Sun. 10am-5:30pm 550 Bayshore, SF. (415) 824-1900, www.flowercraftgc.com

Urban Farmer Store

This three-store chain specializes in resources for drip irrigation systems and rainwater harvesting.

Various Bay Area locations. www.urbanfarmerstore.com 

Sloat Garden Center

The Bay Area’s largest independently owned nursery, with tons of locations so that when you break your spade mid-row, you’ll be able to scoop another in no time at all. Be sure to check out their pottery selection. 

Various Bay Area locations. www.sloatgardens.com

Plant Warehouse

Plant shopping paired with wine tasting in Nob Hill. Sounds about right, no?

10 a.m.-6 p.m. 1624 California, SF. (415) 885-1515

Playing God?

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Playing God?

steve@sfbg.com

THE GREEN ISSUE When Richmond was selected as the site for Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory’s huge second campus in January, city officials and community leaders celebrated the “green” jobs it would create, hundreds of them, diversifying an economy dependent on Chevron and its massive oil refinery. But a new coalition called Synbiowatch (www.synbiowatch.org) is questioning how green those jobs really are and raising fears about the new scientific realm on which they rely.

It’s called synthetic biology, which combines engineering and computer science with the biological sciences to design new microbes that don’t exist in nature — living, self-replicating organisms — taking the field of genetic engineering to another level by allowing scientists to actually write new DNA codes and incubate new life forms.

Proponents tout myriad potential benefits from the approach, from medical treatments (such as developing new anti-malarial drugs or creating new viruses that would attack cancer cells in humans) to the creation of renewable energy sources that might eventually replace fossil fuels, a major focus of the new lab and its main partner, the U.S. Department of Energy’s Joint BioEnergy Institute (JBEI).

“JBEI researchers are engineering new types of microbes using the latest tools in biotechnology,” notes a cartoonish video on its website (www.jbei.org) explaining how these engineered organisms will turn grasses and other abundant biomass matter into powerful fuels — a task that is not yet possible — which can run cleaner burning internal combustion engines.

But the environmentalists, labor organizers, scientists, and community activists who make up Synbiowatch say this technology not only doesn’t live up to its speculative hype, but that it is being developed too rapidly and without adequate oversight given its potential to alter natural ecosystems in unpredictable ways.

“We need a precautionary approach to health and safety,” Jim Thomas — program manager for ETC Group (which stands for Erosion, Technology, and Concentration) and lead author of the 2007 report “Extreme Genetic Engineering: An Introduction to Synthetic Biology” — told journalists during a March 28 briefing at Center for Genetics and Society in Berkeley.

He was joined by UC Berkeley microbial ecologist Ignacio Chapela, a researcher who has publicized environmental impacts of the biotechnology industry; Nnimmo Bassey, executive director of Environmental Rights Action in Nigeria and chair of Friends of the Earth International; molecular biologist Becky McClain, who won a $1.4 million civil lawsuit against her old employer, Pfizer, after blowing the whistle on safety violations in its biotech research; Henry Clark of the West County Toxics Coalition; and Richmond activist Gopal Dayaneni of Movement Generation Justice and Ecology Project. All took part in a conference the next day entitled “Unmasking the Bay Area Bio Lab and Synthetic Biology: Health, Justice, and Communities at Risk.”

Thomas said this coalition formed in recent years to counter the rapid development of what he says is now a $1.6 billion industry that has successfully resisted meaningful government regulation and oversight, despite the fact that the microbes it produces “have no analog in nature, and they will grow and reproduce.”

With no natural predators, the new microbes could reproduce unchecked. “We cannot allow these corporations to play God. They are not God,” said Bassey, who has spent a career combating the false claims and environmental degradation of some of the same big energy corporations (such as Chevron, Shell, and BP) sponsoring this new research. “It’s reckless, it’s out of control, it’s all about money.”

The biggest target of these activists’ ire is Jay Keasling, who directs the JBEI program, helped found the Richmond lab, and has pioneered synthetic biology research for LBNL and UC Berkeley, in addition to starting several companies to take advantage of that research. His latest is Lygos, which he formed in February to develop commercial applications for JBEI’s work on developing new fuels.

Keasling tells us that his critics are wrong and that these new microbes are basically just modifications of substances that scientists have worked with for decades and know how to safely handle. “What we’re trying to do is make the engineering of biology more reliable, so it’s safer and more predictable,” Keasling told us.

He dismissed the idea that these new microbes could threaten ecosystems if they escape from the lab, noting that microbes whose genetic sequencing has been altered in experiments over the last 40 years haven’t proven to be resilient in nature. “When they’re exposed to the environment, they generally don’t survive,” he said. “They get eaten by the other microbes completely.”

But the fear raised by Synbiowatch is that these rapid technological advances could produce a more durable new microbe, and that these scientists are essentially playing God with the basic building blocks of life before they really understand the implications of what they’re creating. Does Keasling think it’s possible that one of his new microbes might be more of a survivor than its predecessors?

“There’s always a possibility, but in 40 years of doing research in this area, that has not been found,” Keasling told us.

That’s not good enough for Synbiowatch and other critics, who say that it’s important to practice the Precautionary Principle — which places the burden of proof on innovators to prove that new technologies won’t be harmful to the environment or human health — before this new lab ramps up its research and development.

The new facility is expected to produce more than 800 jobs. Dayaneni said it’s understandable that Richmond officials embraced the new lab and the prospect of green jobs, but he called the promises of synthetic biology “a wolf in sheep’s clothing, or a wolf genetically engineered to look like a sheep.” He called the new lab “a shell institution for a host of corporate interests” seeking to “synthesize fuel in a petri dish” as much to create an economic bubble as a long-term energy solution.

But he and Bassey said the nascent industry isn’t focused on the many potential downsides of its pursuit, including the degradation of vast tracts of land and consumption of natural resources in order to acquire the sugars needed to fuel the process. “They will need a massive amount of land,” Bassey said. “This is what the progenitors of synthetic biology have failed to acknowledge.”

Keasling does acknowledge that to develop large-scale energy production of the new technology — something he said is still decades away from being viable — will indeed require vast tracts of land growing crops such as jatropha that have been developed for their fuel production potential, something Bassey said will displace poor people around the world.

“Farmers are being tricked to grow crops that are only for industrial uses,” he said. “Farmers that would normally grow crops for food will now be growing it for machines.”

Bassey ridiculed claims that such crops would only utilized marginal lands, but Keasling said the idea is to make use of currently nonproductive vegetation such as switchgrass, using the new microbes to extract sugars from their cellulose. “My hope is the plants will be grown on marginal land and the people who own it will make money from growing it,” Keasling said. “In some ways, it’s giving something back to the farmers.”

Dayaneni compared the new facility and industry to the short-sighted hubris of the nuclear industry before Japan’s Fukushima disaster: “You don’t build a nuclear power plant on the edge of the ring of fire and you don’t build a synthetic biology laboratory on the edge of the ring of fire either.”

Yet Keasling said he and his colleagues are far more aware of these issues and the need for safety and security than activists are giving them credit for. “The synthetic biology community is made up of people who are really concerned about the environment,” Keasling told us.

But McClain said her case shows corporations will often disregard worker safety and environmental consequences in pursuit of profits, often with the complicity of scientists enamored by new discoveries. “There is a lack of integrity and leadership in our scientific leadership,” she said, later adding, “The bottom line is we’re giving the scientific community the right to self-regulate, but that comes with responsibility.”

Keasling said he thinks there is a middle ground possible because “we’re not against regulation, we believe in regulation, it’s important, but it has to be sensible.” He also defended the role that large energy and biotechnology corporations have played in funding this research and licensing the patented new technologies it produces.

“We live in a capitalist system, somebody has to fund this research and science,” Keasling said. “The government doesn’t have the money.”

Sea, here

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Sea, here

arts@sfbg.com

>>See more astounding images from Beneath Cold Seas here.

THE GREEN ISSUE Most people associate underwater photography with the tropics, but the beautiful shots that appear in Beneath Cold Seas (University of Washington, $45, 160pp) were shot in the Pacific Northwest. What’s most striking about the book is the color and vibrance that photographer David Hall was able to capture. It’s a bit mind-blowing to imagine that the hooded nudibranches and grasping octopi found in the book live in the inky depths abutting our very own rocky shores. The next time you take a dip at Baker or Muir Beach don’t forget that you’re frolicking with some seriously stunning fauna. 

SFBG: Where did you shoot Beneath Cold Seas?

DAVID HALL: I shot Beneath Cold Seas in British Columbia. The water tends to be more clear and there’s less pollution because of the small population density. But the same animals in the book are found in Northern California, they don’t recognize international borders. Technically biologists say the ecosystem extends from Southern Alaska down to Point Conception (north of Santa Barbara). That entire area is referred to as the Pacific Northwest.

SFBG: What environmental issues are facing the Pacific Northwest?

DH: One problem is the introduction of alien species. For instance farm-raised salmon taken from New England genetic stock occasionally escape and interbreed with the five or six Pacific species. So you’re getting a genetic mixture which endangers the original Pacific species. But the environmental issues that most people are worried about are overfishing and pollution, like oil spills. As more Canadian oil is being developed and exported to places like China, it will have to be shipped across these waters. So that becomes a concern, especially after what happened in the Gulf of Mexico last year.

SFBG: When did you start taking photos underwater?

DH: Many years ago I took a trip to the Virgin Islands. I’d never seen a coral reef before and was completely overwhelmed by what I saw while snorkeling. I felt that I had to photograph it because I’m not so good at describing things. I went out and bought the best camera I could afford which was a Kodak Instamatic in a plastic housing with flashbulbs. That was how it all started. In those days the bar was very low, if you got an underwater photograph that was somewhat recognizable you could get it published.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NgDfA61OpFI

SFBG: What would you say inspired this project?

DH: At first I started going because I loved the diving, I enjoyed being there and getting photographs. But after the first half dozen trips I realized that the material I was getting was good enough for a book. I got the idea for the book about five years ago, but all in all it took about 15 years.

SFBG: What was a typical shoot like?

DH: I was living on a small boat for a couple of weeks at a time, doing three dives a day, and then reviewing photos at night. The days would be consumed with getting ready for the dive, getting all the equipment on, waiting until the current was just right, getting into the water, diving for an hour, getting back to the boat, getting warm — which takes another hour or two — and then getting ready to dive again. Altogether I made about 500 dives from 1995 to 2010.

Photographing underwater is much more difficult than photographing in air, and photographing in cold water is that much more difficult than photographing in warm water. No one had ever published a good book on underwater photography from a cold water destination in North America before. There are plenty of field guides, and fish ID books for fisherman, but no one had ever published a photographic book that tried to show the character of the ecosystem in an artistic way.

The book required getting a lot of wide angle shots to include the scenery as well as the animals. Getting good clear, colorful photographs in cold water is difficult because of visibility issues. Also cold water filters out all of the warm colors in the spectrum (red, orange, yellow) so to see the colors you have to add light back. So I dive with a pair of powerful flash units that attach to the camera by way of articulated arms that keep my hands free.

SFBG: So there wasn’t someone handling lighting for you?

DH: If I were a National Geographic contract photographer I’d probably have had a few assistants holding lights for me, but I wasn’t so lucky. I had to do everything myself. And in most cases I was diving completely alone.

SFBG: People don’t associate such colorful and exotic creatures with our coast. It’s really wonderful that your book is changing that perception.

DH: I certainly hope that’s what’s happening. The book has been very well received, largely because nobody was aware of what was down there. I mean marine biologists and divers were, but ordinary people had no idea.

People tend to protect what they know and value. Most Americans and Canadians are familiar with the aquatic species that we eat, but there’s a whole ecosystem there that the great majority of us are completely unfamiliar with. I hope my book will make people aware that these things exist and want to feel more protective toward that whole environment.

 

On the Cheap

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

WEDNESDAY 4

“Mexico’s National Emergency and the Role of the United States” University of San Francisco, McLaren Conference Center, 2130 Fulton, SF. (415) 422-6919, www.usfca.edu. 5:30pm-7pm, free. Since the gang-related murder of his son last year, poet and journalist Javier Sicilia has not ceased in speaking out against the drug crises of Mexico. He is planning a protest caravan from San Diego to Washington D.C. this summer, and this Wednesday, he will be at USF to share his insight on Mexico’s current social injustices.

THURSDAY 5

After Dark: Gastronomy-themed activities and demonstrations Exploratorium, 3601 Lyon, SF. (415) 561-0360, www.exploratorium.edu. 6pm-10pm, $15 regular museum admission. Lucky for us, we are living through a period of rapid technological advancement. We’re even more blessed when these innovations trickle in to the culinary world, making our dining experience deliciously transformative. Come taste the spirit of modernist cuisine and discover the latest ways technology and food are intersecting.

“Snow White” author book signing and pastries San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, 151 Third St., SF. (415) 357-4000, www.sfmoma.org. Book signing at 6pm; Cake cutting at 8pm, free. Camille Rose Garcia gives the Disney princess a vintage punk makeover, and sets the classic Grimm’s tale in a tragically beautiful wasteland. As if this wasn’t a treat enough, pastry chef Dante Nuno of Fire and Icing will be serving his Snow White-inspired cake.

“Spring into Spring NightLife” seasonal produce extravaganza California Academy of Sciences, 55 Music Concourse, Golden Gate Park, SF. (415) 379-8000, www.calacademy.org. 6pm-10pm, $12. Spring means delectable fruits, fresh herbs, and mouthwatering honey. Revel in the lusciousness of the season by talking (and tasting) with Urban Bee SF, then meander over to Earl’s Organic Produce to snack on Earl’s fresh-picked strawberries. In between tasting succulent treats and grooving to the tunes of DJ Sleazemore, make a pit stop at Cocktail Lab to learn how to make a seasonally fresh cocktail drink from the night’s mixologists.

“Behind the Scenes: The Art and Craft of Cinema” Landis Pacific Film Archive, 2575 Bancroft, Berk. (510) 642-1412, www.bampfa.berkeley.edu. Through April 6. 7pm, $9.50 for one program; $13.50 for double bills. Harrison Ford would not have been Indiana Jones without his brown fedora and distressed leather jacket. And Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” would not have been nearly as dazzling without his unforgettable crimson, wing-shouldered jacket. Meet the crafty hands that tailored the defining personalities of many films and iconic performances, as their owner discusses the vital role costuming plays in storytelling.

FRIDAY 6

Jimi Hendrix poetry remix 50 Mason Social House, 50 Mason, SF. (415) 433-5050, www.50masonsocialhouse.com. 7pm-10pm, free. Copus is a rap-jazz fusion ensemble that infuses spoken word with piano, flute, bass, and percussion. Come hear the band take apart the poetry of Jimi Hendrix and bring the chromatic words together to their own beat.

SATURDAY 7

“Drink Beer. Solve Autism.” Pyramid’s new beer release tasting Pyramid Alehouse, 901 Gilman, Berk. (510) 528-9880, www.pyramidbrew.com. 1pm-4pm, $20. Enjoy a relaxing afternoon of live music, snacks, and unlimited samples of Pyramid Breweries’ newest beer. 100 percent of proceeds benefit Ales for Autism.

Lomography film canister hunt Lomography Gallery Store, 309 Sutter, SF. (415) 248-0096, www.lomography.com. 1pm-4pm, $10. To prep for the chocolate-filled egg hunts happening tomorrow, hop on over to Lomography SF and get ready to search every nook and cranny for a gift-filled film canister. They’re scattered all around downtown and are packed with sweet analogue prizes like Lomography products, free film, and workshop admissions.

Titanic Anniversary Ball San Mateo Masonic Lodge Ballroom, 100 N. Ellsworth, San Mateo. (510) 522-1731, www.peers.org. Dance lessons at 7pm; dancing at 8pm, $15 adv.; $20 at door. There are two good things that came out of RMS Titanic sinking: an awesomely dramatic movie, and a chance to have an epic ball to commemorate the tragedy’s centennial in all its submerged beauty. Relive the glorious, pre-iceberg moments of the Titanic as Bangers and Mash plays Edwardian waltzes, polkas, and ragtime hits throughout the night. Meet us on the Titanic. It’s going down.

“Cartoonist in Residence: Mike Reger” meet and greet Cartoon Art Museum, 655 Mission, SF. (415) 227-8666, www.cartoonart.org. 1pm-3pm, free. Mike Reger is a San Francisco cartoonist whose eclectic comics touch on everything from local politics to satirical takes on the city’s drug culture. He also does work at Mission Minicomix, a group that arose out of the ’90s punk scene in the Mission. Come pick his cartoonist brain and check out his latest projects.

SUNDAY 8

“Pumps and Circumstance” The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence Easter celebration Dolores Park, 18th St. and Dolores, SF. (415) 820-9697, www.thesisters.org. 11am-4pm, free. Celebrate the Sisters’ 33rd birthday at their annually indulged Easter celebration. The morning will commence with face paintings and an egg hunt, and the afternoon will continue with Easter bonnet and hunky Jesus contests. The Sisters promise to have you partying like it’s 1979 again.

21st Annual Union Street spring celebration and Easter parade Union between Gough and Fillmore, SF. (800) 310-6563, www.SRESproductions.com. 10am-5pm, free. The wonderfully wacky street fair boasts a petting zoo, pony ride, climbing wall, inflatable bounces, and live entertainment from local musicians. When you’re passed by a roller-blading cows or a self-propelled mini-float, you’ll know the parade’s begun.

MONDAY 9

“Best Sex Writing 2012” Rachel Kramer Bussel and Susie Bright explore erotic literary work The Booksmith, 1644 Haight, SF. (415) 863-8688, www.booksmith.com. 7:30pm, free. Sex columnist Rachel Kramer Bussel and commentator Susie Bright are this year’s eyes and ears in collecting the most alluring and insightful work on the seemingly limitless topic of sex for the always rewarding Best Sex Writing series. Put on your slutty-librarian reading glasses and open up the enticing anthology of the latest political sex scandals, impassioned debates over circumcision, SlutWalks, female orgasm workshops, and many more sensual affairs.

TUESDAY 10

San Francisco Film Society presents “Beyond Film School” Roxie Theater, 3117 16th St., SF. (415) 863-1087, www.roxie.com. 7:30pm, $10. Those first muddled years after film school is quite a murky transition. But for some artists, this daunting passage produces some of their most resounding works. The forum showcases student-produced films and will be followed by a panel discussion on the sustainability of Bay Area-based film careers.

Stage Listings

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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. For further information on how to submit items for the listings, see Picks. For complete listings, see www.sfbg.com.

THEATER

OPENING

Goodfellas Live Dark Room Theater, 2263 Mission, SF; www.darkroomsf.com. $20. Opens Fri/6, 8pm. Runs Fri-Sat, 8pm. Through April 26. The Dark Room offers a comedic take on Scorsese’s gangsters.

BAY AREA

Anatol Aurora Theatre, 2081 Addison, Berk; www.auroratheatre.org. $30-55. Previews Fri/6-Sat/7 and April 11, 8pm; Sun/8, 2pm; Tue/10, 7pm. Opens April 12, 8pm. Runs Tue and Sun, 7pm (also Sun, 2pm); Wed-Sat, 8pm. Through May 13. Aurora Theatre Company performs a world premiere translation of Arthur Schnitzler’s drama about the love life of an Viennese philanderer.

Hairspray Fox Theatre, 2215 Broadway, Redwood City; www.broadwaybythebay.org. $20-48. Previews Thu/5, 8pm. Opens Fri/6, 8pm. Runs April 12 and Fri-Sat, 8pm (also Sat, 2pm); Sun, 2pm. Through April 22. Broadway By the Bay opens its 47th season with the John Waters-based, Tony-winning musical.

Of Mice and Men TheatreWorks at Mountain View Center for the Performing Arts, 500 Castro, Mtn View; (650) 463-1960, www.theatreworks.org. $19-69. Previews Wed/4-Fri/6, 8pm. Opens Sat/7, 2 and 8pm. Runs Tue-Wed, 7:30pm; Thu-Sat, 8pm (also Sat, 2pm); Sun, 2pm. Through April 29. TheatreWorks performs the Steinbeck classic.

ONGOING

*The Aliens SF Playhouse, 533 Sutter, SF; (415) 677-9596, www.sfplayhouse.org. $20-70. Tue-Thu, 7pm; Fri-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 3pm. Through May 5. On the heels of Aurora Theatre’s production of Body Awareness, SF Playhouse introduces local audiences to another of contemporary American playwright Annie Baker’s acclaimed plays, in a finely tailored West Coast premiere directed by Lila Neugebauer. (Avila)

Any Given Day Magic Theatre, Fort Mason Center, Marina at Laguna, SF; www.magictheatre.org. $20-60. Previews Wed/4-Sat/7, 8pm (also Sat/7, 2:30pm); Sun/8, 2:30pm; Tue/10, 7pm. Opens April 11, 8pm. Runs Wed-Sat, 8pm (also April 21, 2:30pm); Sun, 2:30pm; Tue, 7pm. Through April 22. Magic Theatre performs Linda McLean’s Glasgow-set play about modern, urban life.

*Fool For Love Boxcar Studios, 125A Hyde, SF; www.boxcartheatre.org. $25. Showtimes vary. Through April 14. Another installment of Boxcar Theatre’s epic Sam Shepard repertory project, Fool for Love inaugurates their newest performance space within their Hyde Street Studios location. In addition to the reliably strong performances from each of the actors, Fool features notably clever staging. (Gluckstern)

*Glengarry Glen Ross Actors Theatre of San Francisco, 855 Bush, SF; (415) 345-1287, www.brownpapertickets.com. $26-40. Wed-Sat, 8pm. Extended through April 28. Actors Theatre of San Francisco and director Keith Phillips offer a sharp, spirited production of the 1984 play by David Mamet in which four real estate agents (Mark Bird, Sean Hallinan, John Krause, and Christian Phillips) jockey and scheme for advantage in their Chicago office in a landscape of insecurity and fierce competition. If the scenic design is a little shabby, the strong cast makes that hardly an impediment to a story that feels especially timely. (Avila)

Hot Greeks Hypnodrome Theatre, 575 10th St, SF; www.brownpapertickets.com. $30-69. Opens Thu/29, 8pm. Runs Thu-Sat, 8pm. Through May 5. Thrillpeddlers launch a new version (new cast, songs, costumes, etc.) of the Cockettes classic by Scrumbly Koldewyn and Martin Worman.

It’s All the Rage Studio Theater, Marsh San Francisco, 1062 Valencia, SF; (415) 282-3055, www.themarsh.org. $15-50. Thu, 8pm; Sat, 8:30pm, Sun, 7pm. Through April 15. Longtime comedian and radio host Marilyn Pittman’s solo play wrestles with the legacy of her parents’ violent deaths in a 1997 murder-suicide initiated by her father. It’s disturbing material that Pittman approaches indirectly via a good deal of humor. (Avila)

*A Lie of the Mind Boxcar Playhouse, 505 Natoma, SF; www.boxcartheatre.org. $25. Showtimes vary. Through April 14. Sam Shepard’s three-act drama is streaked with humor, horror and heartbreak, all of it arising from the most mundane but also extraordinary of things, love and family. That’s Shepard territory, of course, as surely as is the rowdy backwater of the American West where much of the play unfolds. But seeing the exceptionally sharp and powerful production currently up at Boxcar Theatre under direction of Susannah Martin — in the midst of Boxcar’s mostly terrific four-play Shepard fest — suggests 1985’s Lie may cut deeper than most. (Avila)

Maple and Vine American Conservatory Theater, 415 Geary, SF; (415) 749-2228, www.act-sf.org. $10-95. Opens Wed/4, 8pm. Runs Tue-Sat, 8pm (Tue/10, show at 7pm); Wed and Sat-Sun, 2pm (no matinee Wed/4); April 15, show at 7pm). Through April 22. ACT performs the West Coast premiere of Jordan Harrison’s play about a 21st century couple drawn into a community of people who live as if it’s the 1950s.

The Real Americans Marsh Studio Theater, 1062 Valencia, SF; (415) 282-3055, www.themarsh.org. $25-50. Fri, 8pm; Sat, 5pm. Extended through April 14. Dan Hoyle revives his hit solo show about small-town America.

Suicide in B Flat Stagewerx, 446 Valencia, SF; suicideinbflat.blogspot.com. $15. Fri/6-Sat/7, 11pm. Sam Shepard is all over SF at the moment. Contributing to the four-play repertory program Boxcar Theatre has underway comes this lively if uneven production of a little seen Shepard work, a darkly comical jazz noir, by capable newcomers Do It Live, under direction of Will Hand. (Avila)

*True West Boxcar Studios, 125A Hyde, SF; (415) 967-2227, www.boxcartheatre.org. $25. Thu/5-Sat/7, 8pm. The first installment of Boxcar Theatre’s four-play Sam Shepard repertory project, True West ushers in the ambitious run with a bang. This tale of two brothers who gradually assume the role of the other is one of Shepard’s most enduring plays, rich with humorous interludes, veering sharply into dangerous terrain at the drop of a toaster. (Gluckstern)

Waiting for Godot New venue: SF Playhouse Stage Two, 533 Sutter, SF; (415) 336-3522, www.tidestheatre.org. $20-32. Thu, 7pm; Fri-Sat, 8pm. Extended through April 14. The fuchsia papier-mâché tree and swirling grey-on-white floor pattern (courtesy of scenic designer Richard Colman) lend a psychedelic accent to the famously barren landscape inhabited by Vladimir (Keith Burkland) and Estragon (Jack Halton) in this production of the Samuel Beckett play by newcomers Tides Theatre. The best moments here broadcast the brooding beauty of the avant-garde classic, with its purposely vague but readily familiar world of viciousness, servility, trauma, want, fear, grudging compassion, and the daring, fragile humor that can look it all squarely in the eye. (Avila)

The Waiting Period MainStage, Marsh San Francisco, 1062 Valencia, SF; (415) 282-3055, www.themarsh.org. $15-50. Fri, 8pm; Sat, 5pm. Extended through April 27. Brian Copeland (comedian, TV and radio personality, and creator-performer of the long-running solo play Not a Genuine Black Man) returns to the Marsh with a new solo. The play concerns an episode of severe depression in which he considered suicide, going so far as to purchase a handgun — the title coming from the legally mandatory 10-day period between purchasing and picking up the weapon, which leaves time for reflections and circumstances that ultimately prevent Copeland from pulling the trigger. A grim subject, but Copeland (with co-developer and director David Ford) ensures there’s plenty of humor as well as frank sentiment along the way. (Avila) *

 

Film Listings

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Film listings are edited by Cheryl Eddy. Reviewers are Kimberly Chun, Max Goldberg, Dennis Harvey, Lynn Rapoport, and Matt Sussman. For rep house showtimes, see Rep Clock.

OPENING

American Reunion Care for yet another helping of all-American horn dogs? The original American Pie (1999) was a sweet-tempered, albeit ante-upping tribute to ‘80s teen sex comedies, so the latest in the franchise, the older, somewhat wiser American Reunion, is obliged to squeeze a dab more of the ole life force outta the class of ‘99, in honor of their, em, 13th high school reunion. These days Jim (Jason Biggs) is attempting to fluff up a flagging postbaby sex life with wife Michelle (Alyson Hannigan). Kevin (Thomas Ian Nicholas) yearns to get in touch with his buried bad boy. Oz (Chris Klein) has become a sportscaster-reality competition star and is seemingly lost without old girlfriend Heather (Mena Suvari). Stifler (Seann William Scott) is as piggishly incorrigible as ever—even as a low-hanging investment flunky, while scarred, adventuring biker Finch (Eddie Kaye Thomas) seems to have become “the most interesting man in the world.” How much trouble can the gang get into? About as much of a mess as the Hangover guys, which one can’t stop thinking about when Jim wakes up on the kitchen floor with tile burns and zero pants. Half the cast — which includes Tara Reid, John “MILF!” Cho, Natasha Lyonne, and Shannon Elizabeth — seems to have stirred themselves from their own personal career hangovers, interludes of insanity, and plastic surgery disasters (with a few, like Cho and Thomas, firmly moving on), and others such as parental figures Eugene Levy and Jennifer Coolidge continuing to show the kids how it’s done. Still, the farcical American franchise’s essentially benign, healthy attitude toward good, dirty fun reads as slightly refreshing after chaste teen fare like the Twilight and High School Musical flicks. Even with the obligatory moment of full-frontal penis smooshing. (1:53) California, Four Star, Piedmont. (Chun)

*Comic-Con IV: A Fan’s Hope When what is now known as the San Diego Comic-Con International launched in 1970, attendance consisted of a couple hundred comic-book fans. Now, it’s a huge event thronging with hundreds of thousands of geek-leaning movie, TV, video game, and — oh, yeah — comic-book fans; it’s also become an essential part of the hype-building machine for every major pop-culture property. Super Size Me (2004) director Morgan Spurlock’s lively doc examines the current state of Comic-Con with input from those who’ve ridden the nerd train to fame and fortune (Joss Whedon, Guillermo Del Toro, Stan Lee) — but the film’s most compelling sequences zero in on a handful of ordinary folks obsessed with the event for a variety of reasons. There’s the proprietor of a Denver comics shop, a 38-year Comic-Con veteran, faced with the chilling prospect of having to sell his most valuable (and most beloved) comic in order to keep his business afloat; the Carrie Brownstein look alike who spends the entire year crafting incredibly detailed costumes for Comic-Con’s annual masquerade contest; the soldier and family man who dreams of drawing comics for a living; and the sweetly dorky young man nervously planning to propose to his girlfriend … during a Kevin Smith panel. To its credit, Comic-Con IV never mocks its subjects, and it manages to infuse its many storylines with surprising emotional depth. Extra points for the clever, comics-inspired transitions, too. Director Spurlock appears in person for post-film Q&As Sun/8 at 5 and 7:30pm shows. (1:26) Vogue. (Eddy)

*Free Men Amid moderate hoopla for Casablanca’s 70th anniversary, it’s a good time for something that was a whole lot more common back then — a wartime drama not about battle or victimization, but espionage intrigue crossing the lines between military, diplomatic, and civilian sectors. Arrested for participating in the black market in the occupied Paris of 1942, North African émigré Younes (Tahar Rahim from 2009’s A Prophet) evades prison or deportation by agreeing to spy on a local mosque suspected by the Nazis of harboring and smuggling out Jews. His clumsy efforts are quickly found out by a visiting imam (Michael Lonsdale), with the result that Younes — whose brother (Farid Larbi) is already a committed fighter in the Resistance underground — winds up playing double-agent, pretending to serve the police and SS while actually working against them. En route he becomes entangled in the disparate agendas of others including Leila (Lubna Azabal), who’s secretly involved in the Algerian liberation movement, and Salim (Mahmud Shalaby), an apolitical, bisexual singer whose career ambitions blind him to the personal dangers he risks. Ismaël Ferroukhi’s handsome, twisty drama won’t have you white-knuckling the armrests, but it’s an intelligent, satisfying throwback to the colorful characters and narrative intricacies of another era’s cinematic melodramas — with the welcome update of making non-white players our protagonists rather than “exotic” support players. (1:39) Lumiere, Shattuck. (Harvey)

*Goon An amiable Massachusetts bar bouncer who’s the odd one out within his highly-educated, high-achieving Jewish family (led by Eugene Levy), Doug Glatt (Seann William Scott) can punch your lights out as easily — and with as little malice — as he’d flip a light switch. That skill looks useful to a local hockey team in need of an enforcer to disable relevant members of the opposing team when needed, then sit in the penalty box. Soon “Doug the Thug’s” burgeoning reputation brings him to the relative big leagues of Halifax, where his main job for the Highlanders is protecting a star (Marc-André Grondin) who’s been skittish since his serious bruising at the hands of “Ross the Boss” (Liev Schreiber), our hero’s veteran equivalent. Based very loosely on Doug “The Hammer” Smith’s memoir, this latest from director Michael Dowse (2004’s It’s All Gone Pete Tong) and co-scenarist Jay Baruchel (who also plays Doug’s incredibly crass best friend) is a cut above most Canadian hockey comedies — which, trust me, is not saying much. But it is indeed rather endearing eventually as an exercise in rude, pretty funny yet non-loutish humor about oafish behavior. A lot of its appeal has to do with Scott, who is arguably miscast and somewhat wasted as this “Hebrew Dolph Lundgren” — the actor’s forte being manic, impulsive, near-lunatic rather than slow-witted characters — yet who helps Goon maintain a no-foul friendliness in inverse proportion to its face-mashing action on ice. The writing could be sharper, but apparently there is only room for one smart hockey satire in our universe, and that spot was taken by Slap Shot 35 years ago. (1:30) Lumiere. (Harvey)

*They Call it Myanmar: Lifting the Curtain Recent elections signal that Myanmar’s status as “the second-most isolated country on the planet,” per Robert H. Lieberman’s doc, may soon be changing. With that hopeful context, this insightful study of Myanmar (or Burma, depending on who’s referring to it) is particularly well-timed. Shot using clandestine methods, and without identifying many of its fearful interviewees — with the exception of recently-released-from-house-arrest politician Aung San Suu Kyi, a Nobel Peace Prize winner — They Call it Myanmar offers a revealing look at a country largely untouched by corporate influences and pop culture. Myanmar’s military dictatorship is the opposite of a cult of personality; it’s scarier, one subject reflects, because “it’s a system, not an individual,” with faceless leaders who can be quietly be replaced. The country struggles with a huge disconnect between the very rich and the very poor; it has a dismal health care system overrun by “quacks,” and an equally dismal educational system that benefits very few children. Hunger, disease, child labor — all prevalent. Surprisingly, though the conditions that surround them are grim, Myanmar’s people are shown to be generally happy and deeply spiritual as they go about their daily lives. A highlight: Lieberman’s interactions with excited Buddhist pilgrims en route to Kyaiktiyo Pagoda, with an up-close look at the miraculously teetering “Golden Rock.” (1:23) Bridge. (Eddy)

*This Is Not a Film See “The Necessity of Images.” (1:15) SF Film Society Cinema.

Titanic 3D It’s baaack. (3:14) Metreon.

ONGOING

*The Artist With the charisma-oozing agility of Douglas Fairbanks swashbuckling his way past opponents and the supreme confidence of Rudolph Valentino leaning, mid-swoon, into a maiden, French director-writer Michel Hazanavicius hits a sweet spot, or beauty mark of sorts, with his radiant new film The Artist. In a feat worthy of Fairbanks or Errol Flynn, Hazanavicius juggles a marvelously layered love story between a man and a woman, tensions between the silents and the talkies, and a movie buff’s appreciation of the power of film — embodied in particular by early Hollywood’s union of European artistry and American commerce. Dashing silent film star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin, who channels Fairbanks, Flynn, and William Powell — and won this year’s Cannes best actor prize) is at the height of his career, adorable Jack Russell by his side, until the talkies threaten to relegate him to yesterday’s news. The talent nurtured in the thick of the studio system yearns for real power, telling the newspapers, “I’m not a puppet anymore — I’m an artist,” and finances and directs his own melodrama, while his youthful protégé Peppy Miller (Bérénice Béjo) becomes a yakky flapper age’s new It Girl. Both a crowd-pleasing entertainment and a loving précis on early film history, The Artist never checks its brains at the door, remaining self-aware of its own conceit and its forebears, yet unashamed to touch the audience, without an ounce of cynicism. (1:40) California, Castro, 1000 Van Ness. (Chun)

*The Ballad of Genesis and Lady Jaye Once dubbed “the wickedest man in the world”, shock artist and cofounder of seminal industrial music pioneers Throbbing Gristle Genesis Breyer P-Orridge has softened somewhat with time. Her plunge into pandrogyny, an ongoing artistic and personal process embarked upon with the late Jacqueline “Lady Jaye” Breyer P-Orridge, is an attempt to create a perfectly balanced body, incorporating the characteristics of both. As artists, the two were committed to documenting their process, but as marriage partners, much of their footage is sweetly innocuous home video footage: Genesis cooking in the kitchen decked out in a little black dress, Lady Jaye setting out napkins at a backyard bar-b-que or helping to dig through Genesis’ archives of COUM Transmissions and Throbbing Gristle “ephemera,” the two wrapped in bandages after getting matching nose jobs. “I just want to be remembered as one of the great love affairs of all time,” Jaye tells Genesis. This whimsical documentary by Marie Losier will go a long way toward making that wish a reality. (1:12) Roxie. (Nicole Gluckstern)

*Boy Apparent in his 2007 film Eagle vs. Shark and his brief turns writing and directing The Flight of the Conchords, filmmaker Taika Waititi seems to embody a uniquely Polynesian sensibility, positioned at a crossroads that’s informed by his Te-Whanau-a-Apanui heritage and his background in the Raukokore area of New Zealand, as well as an affection of global pop culture and a kind of keeping-it-real, keeping-it-local, down-home indie sensibility. All of which has fed into Boy, which became the highest-grossing New Zealand film of all time when it was released in its homeland in 2010. Its popularity is completely understandable. From the lush green inlands and stunning beaches of Waihau Bay to its intimate, gritty and humorous sketch of its natives, this affectionate, big-hearted bildungsroman is a lot like its 11-year-old eponymous hero — eminently lovable and completely one of a kind. Despite the tragedies and confines of his small-town rural life, Boy has a handle on his world: it’s 1984, and his pals spend their time hanging out at the snack shop and harvesting weed for one deadbeat biker parent. Boy’s brother Rocky (Te Aho Aho Eketone-Whitu) believes he has superpowers and is scarred by the fact that his birth was responsible for their mother’s death, and Michael Jackson has just been crowned the king of pop. Then, while his grandma’s away, Boy’s own deadbeat dad, Alamein (Waititi) appears on the scene, turning an extended family of small children on its head — and inspiring many a Thriller dance-slash-dream sequence. Waititi finds his way inside Boy’s head with Crayola-colorful animated children’s drawings, flashbacks, and the kind of dreamy fluidity that comes so naturally during long, hot Polynesian days, all while wonderfully depicting a world that far too few people have glimpsed on screen. (1:30) Smith Rafael. (Chun)

*Casa de mi Padre Will Ferrell’s latest challenge in a long line of actorly exercises and comic gestures — from his long list of comedies probing the last gasps of American masculinity to serious forays like Stranger Than Fiction (2006) and Everything Must Go (2010) — is almost entirely Spanish-language telenovela-burrito Western spoof Casa de mi Padre. Here Ferrell tackles an almost entirely Spanish script (with only meager, long-ago high school and college language courses under his belt) alongside Mexican natives Gael García Bernal and Diego Luna and telenovela veteran Genesis Rodriguez. This clever, intriguing, occasionally very funny, yet not altogether successful endeavor, directed by Matt Piedmont and written by Andrew Steele, sprang from Ferrell’s noggin. Ferrell is nice guy Armando, content to stay at home at the ranch, hang with his buddies, and be dismissed by his father (Pedro Armendáriz Jr.) as a dolt. The arrival of his sleazy bro Raul (Luna) and Raul’s fiancée Sonia (Rodriguez) change everything, bringing killer narco Onza (Bernal) into the family’s life and sparking some hilariously klutzy entanglements between Armando and Sonia. All of this leads to almost zero improvisation on Ferrell’s part and plenty of meta, Machete-like spoofs on low-budget fare, from Sergio Leone to Alejandro Jodorowsky. Casa punctures padre-informed transmissions of Latin machismo, but it equally ridicules the idea of a gringo actor riding in and superimposing himself, badly or otherwise, over another country’s culture. (1:25) Metreon, Shattuck. (Chun)

*The Deep Blue Sea Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, filmmaker Terence Davies, much like his heroine, chooses a mutable, fluid sensuality, turning his source material, Terence Rattigan’s acclaimed mid-century play, into a melodrama that catches you in its tide and refuses to let go. At the opening of this sumptuous portrait of a privileged English woman who gives up everything for love, Hester (Rachel Weisz) goes through the methodical motions of ending it all: she writes a suicide note, carefully stuffs towels beneath the door, takes a dozen pills, turns on the gas, and lies down to wait for death to overtake her. Via memories drifting through her fading consciousness, Davies lets us in on scattered, salient details in her back story: her severely damped-down, staid marriage to a high court judge, Sir William (Simon Russel Beale), her attraction and erotic awakening in the hands of charming former RF pilot Freddie Page (Tom Hiddleston), her separation, and her ultimate discovery that her love can never be matched, as she hazards class inequities and ironclad gender roles. “This is a tragedy,” Sir William says, at one point. But, as Hester, a model of integrity, corrects him, “Tragedy is too big a word. Sad, perhaps.” Similarly, Sea is a beautiful downer, but Davies never loses sight of a larger post-war picture, even while he pauses for his archetypal interludes of song, near-still images, and luxuriously slow tracking shots. With cinematographer Florian Hoffmeister, he does a remarkable job of washing post-war London with spots of golden light and creating claustrophobic interiors — creating an emotionally resonant space reminiscent of the work of Wong Kar-wai and Christopher Doyle. At the center, providing the necessary gravitas (much like Julianne Moore in 2002’s Far From Heaven), is Weisz, giving the viewer a reason to believe in this small but reverberant story, and offering yet another reason for attention during the next awards season. (1:38) Embarcadero, Piedmont, Shattuck, Smith Rafael. (Chun)

Dr. Seuss’ The Lorax (1:26) Metreon, 1000 Van Ness, Shattuck.

Footnote (1:45) Clay.

*Friends With Kids Jennifer Westfeldt scans Hollywood’s romantic comedy landscape for signs of intelligent life and, finding it to be a barren place possibly recovering from a nuclear holocaust, writes, directs, and stars in this follow-up to 2001’s Kissing Jessica Stein, which she co-wrote and starred in. Julie (Westfeldt) and Jason (Adam Scott) are upper-thirtysomething New Yorkers with two decades of friendship behind them. He calls her “doll.” They have whispered phone conversations at four in the morning while their insignificant others lie slumbering beside them on the verge of getting dumped. And after a night spent witnessing the tragic toll that procreation has taken on the marriages of their four closest friends — Bridesmaids (2011) reunion party Leslie (Maya Rudolph), Alex (Chris O’Dowd), Missy (Kristen Wiig), and Ben (Jon Hamm), the latter two, surprisingly and less surprisingly, providing some of the film’s darkest moments — Jason proposes that they raise a child together platonically, thereby giving any external romantic relationships a fighting chance of survival. In no time, they’ve worked out the kinks to their satisfaction, insulted and horrified their friends, and awkwardly made a bouncing baby boy. The arrival of significant others (Edward Burns and Megan Fox) signals the second phase of the experiment. Some viewers will be invested in latent sparks of romance between the central pair, others in the success of an alternative family arrangement; one of these demographics is destined for disappointment. Until then, however, both groups and any viewers unwilling to submit to this reductive binary will be treated to a funny, witty, well crafted depiction of two people’s attempts to preserve life as they know it while redrawing the parameters of parenthood. (1:40) Four Star, SF Center, Sundance Kabuki. (Rapoport)

*House of Pleasures Set in a fin de siècle French brothel, Bertrand Bonello’s lushly rendered drama is challenging and frequently unpleasant. Bonello sees the beauty and allure of his subjects, the many miserable women of this maison close, but rarely sinks to sympathy for their selfish and sometimes sadistic clients. Bound as they are by their debts to their Madame, the prostitutes are essentially slaves, held to strict and humiliating standards. All they have is each other, and the movie’s few emotional bright spots come from this connection. The filmmaking is wily and nouvelle vague-ish, featuring anachronistic music and inventive split-screen sequences. Additionally, there is a spidery complexity to the film’s chronology, wherein certain scenes repeat to reveal new contexts. This unstuck sense of newness is perhaps didactic — this could and does happen now as well as then — but it also serves to make an already compelling ensemble piece even richer and more engaging. (2:02) SF Film Society Cinema. (Sam Stander)

Hugo Hugo turns on an obviously genius conceit: Martin Scorsese, working with 3D, CGI, and a host of other gimmicky effects, creates a children’s fable that ultimately concerns one of early film’s pioneering special-effects fantasists. That enthusiasm for moviemaking magic, transferred across more than a century of film history, was catching, judging from Scorsese’s fizzy, exhilarating, almost-nauseating vault through an oh-so-faux Parisian train station and his carefully layered vortex of picture planes as Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield), an intrepid engineering genius of an urchin, scrambles across catwalk above a buzzing station and a hotheaded station inspector (Sacha Baron Cohen). Despite the special effects fireworks going off all around him, Hugo has it rough: after the passing of his beloved father (Jude Law), he has been stuck with an nasty drunk of a caretaker uncle (Ray Winstone), who leaves his duties of clock upkeep at a Paris train station to his charge. Hugo must steal croissants to survive and mechanical toy parts to work on the elaborate, enigmatic automaton he was repairing with his father, until he’s caught by the fierce toy seller (Ben Kingsley) with a mysterious lousy mood and a cute, bright ward, Isabelle (Chloe Grace Moretz). Although the surprisingly dark-ish Hugo gives Scorsese a chance to dabble a new technological toolbox — and the chance to wax pedantically, if passionately, about the importance of film archival studies — the effort never quite despite transcends its self-conscious dazzle, lagging pacing, diffuse narrative, and simplistic screenplay by John Logan, based on Brian Selznick’s book. Even the actorly heavy lifting provided by assets like Kingsley and Moretz and the backloaded love for the fantastic proponents at the dawn of filmmaking fail to help matters. Scorsese attempts to steal a little of the latters’ zeal, but one can only imagine what those wizards would do with motion-capture animation or a blockbuster-sized server farm. (2:07) Metreon. (Chun)

The Hunger Games Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) is a teenager living in a totalitarian state whose 12 impoverished districts, as retribution for an earlier uprising, must pay tribute to the so-called Capitol every year, sacrificing one boy and one girl each to the Hunger Games. A battle royal set in a perilous arena and broadcast live to the Capitol as gripping diversion and to the districts as sadistic propaganda, the Hunger Games are, depending on your viewpoint, a “pageant of honor, courage, and sacrifice” or a brutal, pointless bloodbath involving children as young as 12. When her little sister’s name comes up in the annual lottery, Katniss volunteers to take her place and is joined by a boy named Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson), with whom she shares an old, unspoken bond. Tasked with translating to the screen the first installment of Suzanne Collins’s rabidly admired trilogy, writer-director Gary Ross (2003’s Seabiscuit, 1998’s Pleasantville) telescopes the book’s drawn-out, dread-filled tale into a manageable two-plus-hour entertainment, making great (and horrifying) use of the original work’s action, but losing a good deal of the narrative detail and emotional force. Elizabeth Banks is comic and unrecognizable as Effie Trinket, the two tributes’ chaperone; Lenny Kravitz gives a blank, flattened reading as their stylist, Cinna; and Donald Sutherland is sufficiently creepy and bloodless as the country’s leader, President Snow. More exceptionally cast are Woody Harrelson as Katniss and Peeta’s surly, alcoholic mentor, Haymitch Abernathy, and Stanley Tucci as games emcee Caesar Flickerman, flashing a bank of gleaming teeth at each contestant as he probes their dire circumstances with the oily superficiality of a talk show host. (2:22) Balboa, Marina, 1000 Van Ness, Presidio, SF Center, Sundance Kabuki. (Rapoport)

*The Hunter Shot and set during Iran’s contentious 2009 Presidential campaign, The Hunter starts as a Kafka-esque portrait of quiet desperation in a cold, empty Tehran, then turns into a sort of existential thriller. The precise message may be ambiguous, but it’s no surprise this two-year-old feature has so far played nearly everywhere but Iran itself. Ali (filmmaker Rafi Pitts) is released from prison after some years, his precise crime never revealed. Told that with his record he can’t expect to get a day shift on his job as security guard at an automotive plant, he keeps hours at odds with his working wife Sara (Mitra Haijar) and six-year-old daughter Saba (Saba Yaghoobi). Still, they try to spend as much time together as possible, until one day Ali returns to find them uncharacteristically gone all day. After getting the bureaucratic runaround he’s finally informed by police that something tragic has occurred; one loved one is dead, the other missing. When his thin remaining hope is dashed, with police notably useless in preventing that grim additional news, Ali snaps — think Peter Bogdanovich’s 1968 Targets. He’s soon in custody, albeit in that of two bickering officers who get them all lost in the countryside. Pitts, a long-ago child performer cast here only when the actor originally hired had to be replaced, makes Ali seem pinched from the inside out, as if in permanent recoil from past and anticipated abuse. This thin, hunched frame, vulnerable big ears, and hooded eyes — the goofily oversized cap he wears at work seems a deliberate affront — seems so fixed an expression of unhappiness that when he flashes a great smile, for a moment you might think it must be someone else. He’s an everyman who only grows more shrunken once the film physically opens up into a natural world no less hostile for being beautiful. (1:32) Roxie. (Harvey)

Intruders Despite his aptitude for filling a tux nicely with a loaded, Don Draper-esque suaveness, Clive Owen has a way of dominating the screen with his rage — a mad man more likely to brawl than deliver biting ad lines — so it’s hard for Intruders to escape the specter of his role in 2010’s Trust, as a dad futilely attempting to protect his daughter from an online predator. Consider Intruders the dark-fantasy offspring of that film and 2006’s Pan’s Labyrinth. A nightmare appears to be materializing for two children in Spain and England: Juan (Izan Corchero) is being tormented by a shadowy figure who creeps into his room at night, and his mother (Pilar López de Ayala) and priest (Daniel Brühl) seem unable to stop the visitations or exorcise the demon that resembles a grand inquisitor in a hoodie. Meanwhile, Mia (Ella Purnell) discovers that the terrifying faceless figure she’s been writing about for her school fiction class is becoming a reality for both her and her protective papa (Owen). Is it a figment of their imagination — a case of folie à deux (and along with Apart, the second hitting the theaters in the last month) — or something potentially more terrifying, like the imaginative power of a child’s mind? 28 Weeks Later (2007) director Juan Carlos Fresnadillo attempts to sustain the mystery throughout, but that calculated juggling act only succeeds in making the final “gotcha” ending — involving, yes, wronged angry dad Owen — seem like a bit of a cheat. (1:40) Metreon. (Chun)

The Iron Lady Curiously like Clint Eastwood’s 2011 J. Edgar, this biopic from director Phyllida Lloyd and scenarist Abi Morgan takes on a political life of length, breadth and controversy — yet it mostly skims over the politics in favor of a generally admiring take on a famous narrow-minded megalomaniac’s “gumption” as an underdog who drove herself to the top. Looking back on her career from a senile old age spent in the illusory company of dead spouse Denis (Jim Broadbent), Meryl Streep’s ex-British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher steamrolls past hurdles of class and gender while ironically re-enforcing the fustiest Tory values. She’s essentially a spluttering Lord in skirts, absolutist in her belief that money and power rule because they ought to, and any protesting rabble don’t represent the “real England.” That’s a mindset that might well have been explored more fruitfully via less flatly literal-minded portraiture, though Lloyd does make a few late, lame efforts at sub-Ken Russell hallucinatory style. Likely to satisfy no one — anywhere on the ideological scale — seriously interested in the motivations and consequences of a major political life, this skin-deep Lady will mostly appeal to those who just want to see another bravura impersonation added to La Streep’s gallery. Yes, it’s a technically impressive performance, but unlikely to be remembered as one of her more depthed ones, let alone among her better vehicles. (1:45) Opera Plaza. (Harvey)

*The Island President The titular figure is Mohamed Nasheed, recently ousted (by allies of the decades long dictator he’d replaced) chief executive of the Republic of Maldives — a nation of 26 small islands in the Indian Ocean. Jon Shenk’s engaging documentary chronicles his efforts up to and through the 2009 Copenhagen Climate Summit to gather greater international commitment to curbing greenhouse gas emissions. This is hardly do-gooderism, a bid for eco-tourism, or politics as usual: scarcely above sea level, with nary a hill, the Maldives will simply cease to exist soon if waters continue to rise at global warming’s current pace. (“It won’t be any good to have a democracy if we don’t have a country,” he half-jokes at one point.) Nasheed is tireless, unjaded, delightful, and willing to do anything, at one point hosting “the world’s first underwater cabinet meeting” (with oxygen tanks, natch) as a publicity stunt. A cash-strapped nation despite its surfeit of wealthy vacationers, it’s spending money that could go to education and health services on the pathetic stalling device of sandwalls instead. But do bigger powers — notably China, India and the U.S. — care enough about this bit-part player on the world stage to change their energy-use and economic habits accordingly? (A hint: If you’ve been mulling a Maldivian holiday, take it now.) Somewhat incongruous, but an additional sales point nonetheless: practically all the film’s incidental music consists of pre-existing tracks by Radiohead. (1:51) Embarcadero, Shattuck. (Harvey)

*Jeff, Who Lives at Home The failure-to-launch concept will always thrive whenever and wherever economies flail, kids crumble beneath family trauma, and the seduction of moving back home to live for free with the parental units overcomes the draw of adulthood and individuation. Nevertheless brotherly writing and directing team Jay and Mark Duplass infuse a fresh, generous-minded sweetness in this familiar narrative arc, mainly by empathetically following those surrounding, and maybe enabling, the stay-at-home. Spurred by a deep appreciation of Signs (2002) and plentiful bong hits, Jeff (Jason Segel) decides to go with the signals that the universe throws at him: a mysterious phone call for a Kevin leads him to stalk a kid wearing a jersey with that name and jump a candy delivery truck. This despite the frantic urging of his mother (Susan Sarandon), who has set the bar low and simply wants Jeff to repair a shutter for her birthday, and the bad influence of brother Pat (Ed Helms), a striving jerk who compensates for his insecurities by buying a Porsche and taking business meetings at Hooters. We never quite find out what triggered Jeff’s dormancy and Pat’s prickishness — two opposing responses to some unspecified psychic wound — yet by Jeff, Who Lives at Home‘s close, it doesn’t really matter. The Duplass brothers convince you to go along for the ride, much like Jeff’s blessed fool, and accept the ultimately feel-good, humanist message of this kind-hearted take on human failings. (1:22) California, SF Center, Sundance Kabuki. (Chun)

Jiro Dreams of Sushi Celebrity-chef culture has surely reached some kind of zeitgeist, what with the omnipresence of Top Chef and other cooking-themed shows, and the headlines-making power of people like Paula Deen (diabetes) and Mario Batali (sued for ripping off his wait staff). Unconcerned with the trappings of fame — you’ll never see him driving a Guy Fieri-style garish sports car — is Jiro Ono, 85-year-old proprietor of Sukiyabashi Jiro, a tiny, world-renowned sushi restaurant tucked into Tokyo’s Ginza station. Jiro, a highly-disciplined perfectionist who believes in simple, yet flavorful food, has devoted his entire life to the pursuit of “deliciousness” — to the point of sushi invading his dreams, as the title of David Gelb’s reverential documentary suggests. But Jiro Dreams of Sushi goes deeper than food-prep porn (though, indeed, there’s plenty of that); it also examines the existential conflicts faced by Jiro’s two middle-aged sons. Both were strongly encouraged to enter the family business — and in the intervening years, have had to accept the soul-crushing fact that no matter how good their sushi is, it’ll never be seen as exceeding the creations of their legendary father. (1:21) Embarcadero, Piedmont, Shattuck, Smith Rafael. (Eddy)

John Carter More or less an adaptation of Tarzan author Edgar Rice Burroughs’ 1917 sci-fi classic A Princess of Mars, John Carter is yet another film that lavishes special effects (festooned with CG and 3D) on a rote story filled with characters the viewer couldn’t give two craps about. Angry Civil War veteran John Carter (Taylor Kitsch, more muscleman than thespian) mysteriously zips to Mars, a planet not only populated by multiple members of the cast of HBO’s Rome (Ciarán Hinds, James Purefoy, and the voice of Polly Walker), but also quite a bit of Red Planet unrest. Against his better judgment, and with the encouragement of a comely princess (tragic spray-tan victim Lynn Collins), Carter joins the fight, as red people battle blue people, green four-armed creatures pitch in when needed, and sinister silver people (led by Mark Strong) use zap-tastic powers to manipulate the action for their amusement. If you’re expecting John Carter to be a step up from Conan the Barbarian (2011), Prince of Persia (2010), etc., because it’s directed by Andrew Stanton (the Pixar superstar who helmed 2008’s Finding Nemo and 2010’s WALL*E), eh, think again. There’s nothing memorable or fun about this would-be adventure; despite its extravagant 3D, it’s flatter than a pancake. (2:17) Metreon, 1000 Van Ness. (Eddy)

*The Kid with a Bike Slippery as an eel, Cyril (Thomas Doret) is the bane of authorities as he tries to run away at any opportunity from school and a youth home — being convinced that the whole adult world is conspiring to keep his father away from him. During one such chase he literally runs into hair-salon proprietor Samantha (Cécile De France), who proves willing to host him on weekends away from his public facility, and is a patient, steadying influence despite his still somewhat exasperating behavior. It’s she who orchestrates a meeting with his dad (Jerémié Renier, who played the child in the Dardennes’ 1996 breakthrough La Promesse), so Cyril can confront the hard fact that his pa not only can’t take care of him, he doesn’t much want to. Still looking for some kind of older male approval, Cyril falls too easily under the sway of Wes (Egon Di Mateo), a teenage thug whom everyone in Samantha’s neighborhood knows is bad news. This latest neorealist-style drama from Belgium’s Dardenne Brothers treads on very familiar ground for them, both in themes and terse execution. It’s well-acted, potent stuff, if less resonant in sum impact than their best work. (1:27) Embarcadero, Shattuck. (Harvey)

Mirror Mirror In this glittery, moderately girl-powery adaptation of the Snow White tale (a comic foil of sorts to this summer’s gloomier-looking Snow White and the Huntsman), Julia Roberts takes her turn as stepmom, to an earnest little ingenue (Lily Collins) whose kingly father (Sean Bean) is presumed dead and whose rather-teeny-looking kingdom is collapsing under the weight of fiscal ruin and a thick stratum of snow. Into this sorry realm rides a chiseled beefcake named Prince Alcott (Arnie Hammer), who hails from prosperous Valencia, falls for Snow White, and draws the attentions of the Queen (Roberts) from both a strategic and a libidinal standpoint. Soon enough, Snow White (Snow to her friends) is narrowly avoiding execution at the hands of the Queen’s sycophantic courtier-henchman (Nathan Lane), rustling up breakfast for a thieving band of stilt-walking dwarves, and engaging in sylvan hijinks preparatory to deposing her stepmother and bringing light and warmth and birdsong and perennials back into fashion. Director Tarsem Singh (2000’s The Cell, 2011’s Immortals) stages the film’s royal pageantry with a bright artistry, and Roberts holds court with vicious, amoral relish as she senses her powers of persuasion slipping relentlessly from her grasp. Carefully catering to tween-and-under tastes as well as those of their chaperones, the comedy comes in various breadths, and there’s meta-humor in the sight of Roberts passing the pretty woman torch, though Collins seems blandly unprepared to wield her power wisely or interestingly. Consider vacating your seats before the extraneous Bollywood-style song-and-dance number that accompanies the closing credits. (1:46) Balboa, Metreon, 1000 Van Ness, Presidio, Sundance Kabuki. (Rapoport)

*Pina Watching Pina Bausch’s choreography on film should not have been as absorbing and deeply affecting of an experience as it was. Dance on film tends to disappoint — the camera flattens the body and distorts perspective, and you either see too many or not enough details. However, improved 3D technology gave Wim Wenders (1999’s Buena Vista Social Club; 1987’s Wings of Desire) the additional tools he needed to accomplish what he and fellow German Bausch had talked about for 20 years: collaborating on a documentary about her work. Instead of making a film about the rebel dance maker, Wenders made it for Bausch, who died in June 2009, two days before the start of filming. Pina is an eloquent tribute to a tiny, soft-spoken, mousy-looking artist who turned the conventions of theatrical dance upside down. She was a great artist and true innovator. Wenders’ biggest accomplishment in this beautifully paced and edited document is its ability to elucidate Bausch’s work in a way that words probably cannot. While it’s good to see dance’s physicality and its multi dimensionality on screen, it’s even better that the camera goes inside the dances to touch tiny details and essential qualities in the performers’ every gesture. No proscenium theater can offer that kind of intimacy. Appropriately, intimacy (the eternal desire for it) and loneliness (an existential state of being) were the two contradictory forces that Bausch kept exploring over and over. And by taking fragments of the dances into the environment — both natural and artificial — of Wuppertal, Germany, Wenders places them inside the emotional lives of ordinary people, subjects of all of Bausch’s work. (1:43) Four Star, Shattuck. (Rita Felciano)

*The Raid: Redemption As rip-roaring as they come, Indonesian import The Raid: Redemption (from, oddly, a Welsh writer-director, Gareth Huw Evans) arrives to reassure genre fans that action films are still being made without CG-embellished stunts, choppy editing, and gratuitous 3D. Fists, feet, and gnarly weapons do the heavy lifting in this otherwise simple tale of a taciturn special-forces cop (Iko Uwais) who’s part of a raid on a run-down, high-rise apartment building where all the tenants are crooks and the landlord is a penthouse-dwelling crime boss (Ray Sahetapy). Naturally, things go awry almost immediately, and floor-to-floor brawls (choreographed by Uwais and co-star Yayan Ruhian, whose character is aptly named “Mad Dog”) comprise nearly the entirety of the film; of particular interest is The Raid‘s focus on pencak silat, an indigenous Indonesian fighting style — though there are also plenty of thrilling gun battles, machete-thwackings, and other dangerous delights. Even better: Redemption is the first in a planned trilogy of films starring Uwais’ badass (yet morally rock-solid) character. Bring it! (1:40) California, Metreon, Sundance Kabuki. (Eddy)

Safe House Frankly, Denzel Washington watchers are starved for another movie in which he’s playing the smartest guy in the room. Despite being hampered by a determinedly murky opening, Safe House should mostly satisfy. Washington’s Tobin Frost is well-used to dwelling into a grayed-out borderland of black ops and flipped alliances — a onetime CIA star, he now trades secrets while perpetually on the run. Fleeing from killers of indeterminate origin, Tobin collides headlong with eager young agent Matt (Ryan Reynolds), who’s stuck maintaining a safe house in Cape Town, South Africa. Tasked with holding onto Tobin’s high-level player by his boss (Brendan Gleeson) and his boss’s boss (Sam Shepard), Matt is determined to prove himself, retain and by extension protect Tobin (even when the ex-superspy is throttling him from behind amid a full-speed car chase), and resist the magnetic pull of those many hazardous gray zones. Surrounded by an array of actorly heavies, including Vera Farmiga, who collectively ratchet up and invest this possibly not-very-interesting narrative — “Bourne” there; done that — with heart-pumping intensity, Washington is magnetic and utterly convincing as the jaded mouse-then-cat-then-mouse toying with and playing off Reynolds go-getter innocent. Safe House‘s narrative doesn’t quite fill in the gaps in Tobin Frost’s whys and wherefores, and the occasional ludicrous breakthroughs aren’t always convincing, but the film’s overall, familiar effect should fly, even when it’s playing it safe (or overly upstanding, especially when it comes to one crucial, climactic scrap of dialogue from “bad guy” Washington, which rings extremely politically incorrect and tone-deaf). (2:00) SF Center. (Chun)

*Salmon Fishing in the Yemen In Lasse Hallström’s latest film, a sheikh named Muhammed (Amr Waked) with a large castle in Scotland, an ardent love of fly-fishing, and unlimited funds envisions turning a dry riverbed in the Yemeni desert into an aquifer-fed salmon-run site and the surrounding lands into an agricultural cornucopia. Tasked with realizing this dream are London marketing consultant Harriet Chetwode-Talbot (Emily Blunt) and government fisheries scientist Alfred Jones (Ewan McGregor), a reluctant participant who refers to the project as “doolally” and signs on under professional duress. Despite numerous feasibility issues (habitat discrepancies, the necessity for a mass exodus of British salmon, two million irate British anglers), Muhammed’s vision is borne forward on a rising swell of cynicism generated within the office of the British prime minister’s press secretary (Kristin Scott Thomas), whose lackeys have been scouring the wires for a shred of U.K.-related good news out of the Middle East. Ecology-minded killjoys may question whether this qualifies. But putting aside, if one can, the possible inadvisability of relocating 10,000 nonnative salmon to a wadi in Yemen — which is to say, putting aside the basic premise — it’s easy and pleasant enough to go with the flow of the film, infected by Jones’s growing enthusiasm for both the project and Ms. Chetwode-Talbot. Adapted from Paul Torday’s novel by Simon Beaufoy (2009’s Slumdog Millionaire), Salmon Fishing is a sweet and funny movie, and while it suffers from the familiar flurried third-act knotting together of loose ends, its storytelling stratagems are entertaining and its characters compellingly textured, and the cast makes the most of the well-polished material. (1:52) Albany, Embarcadero, 1000 Van Ness, Piedmont, Presidio, Sundance Kabuki. (Rapoport)

*The Salt of Life Gianni Di Gregorio is both a triumph over and cautionary illustration of the aging uomo, racking up decades of experience yet still infantilized by that most binding tie. He’s a late bloomer who’s long worked in theater and film in various capacities, notably as a scenarist for 2008’s organized crime drama Gomorrah. That same year he wrote and directed a first feature basically shot in his own Rome apartment. Mid-August Lunch was a surprise global success casting the director himself as a putz, also named Gianni, very like himself (by his own admission), peevishly trying to have some independence while catering to the whims of the ancient but demanding mother (Valeria De Franciscis) he still lives with. Lunch was charming in a sly, self-deprecating way, and The Salt of Life is more of the same minus the usual diminishing returns: the creator’s barely-alter ego Gianni is still busy doing nothing much, dissatisfied not by his indolence but by its quality. But his pint-sized, wig-rocking, nearly century-old matriarch has now moved to a plush separate address with full-time care — and Salt‘s main preoccupation is Gianni’s discovery that while he’s as available and interested in women as ever, at age 63 he is no longer visible to them. While Fellini confronted desirable, daunting womanhood with a permanent adolescent’s masturbatory fantasizing, Di Gregorio’s humbler self-knowledge finds comedy in the hangdog haplessness of an old dog who can’t learn new tricks and has forgotten the old ones. (1:30) Opera Plaza, Shattuck, Smith Rafael. (Harvey)

*A Separation Iran’s first movie to win Berlin’s Golden Bear (as well as all its acting awards), this domestic drama reflecting a larger socio-political backdrop is subtly well-crafted on all levels, but most of all demonstrates the unbeatable virtue of having an intricately balanced, reality-grounded screenplay — director Asghar Farhadi’s own — as bedrock. A sort of confrontational impartiality is introduced immediately, as our protagonists Nader (Peyman Moadi) and Simin (Leila Hatami) face the camera — or rather the court magistrate — to plead their separate cases in her filing for divorce, which he opposes. We gradually learn that their 14-year wedlock isn’t really irreparable, the feelings between them not entirely hostile. The roadblock is that Simin has finally gotten permission to move abroad, a chance she thinks she must seize for the sake of their daughter, Termeh (Sarina Farhadi). But Nader doesn’t want to leave the country, and is not about to let his only child go without him. Farhadi worked in theater before moving into films a decade ago. His close attention to character and performance (developed over several weeks’ pre-production rehearsal) has the acuity sported by contemporary playwrights like Kenneth Lonergan and Theresa Rebeck, fitted to a distinctly cinematic urgency of pace and image. There are moments that risk pushing plot mechanizations too far, by A Separation pulls off something very intricate with deceptive simplicity, offering a sort of integrated Rashomon (1950) in which every participant’s viewpoint as the wronged party is right — yet in conflict with every other. (2:03) Albany, Lumiere. (Harvey)

*The Secret World of Arrietty It’s been far too long between 2008’s Ponyo, the last offering from Studio Ghibli, and this feature-length adaptation of Mary Norton’s children’s classic, The Borrowers, but the sheer beauty of the studio’s hand-drawn animation and the effortless wonder of its tale more than make up for the wait. This U.S. release, under the very apropos auspices of Walt Disney Pictures, comes with an American voice cast (in contrast with the U.K. version), and the transition appears to be seamless — though, of course, the background is subtly emblazoned with kanji, there are details like the dinnertime chopsticks, and the characters’ speech rhythms, down to the “sou ka” affirmative that peppers all Japanese dialogue. Here in this down-low, hybridized realm, the fearless, four-inches-tall Arrietty (voiced by Bridgit Mendler) has grown up imaginative yet lonely, believing her petite family is the last of their kind: they’re Borrowers, a race of tiny people who live beneath the floorboards of full-sized human’s dwellings and take what they need to survive. Despite the worries of her mother Homily (Amy Poehler), Arrietty begins to embark on borrowing expeditions with her father Pod (Will Arnett) — there are crimps in her plans, however: their house’s new resident, a sickly boy named Shawn (David Henrie), catches a glimpse of Arrietty in the garden, and caretaker Hara (Carol Burnett) has a bit of an ulterior motive when it comes to rooting out the wee folk. Arrietty might not be for everyone — some kids might churn in their seats with ADD-style impatience at this graceful, gentle throwback to a pre-digital animation age — but in the care of first-time director Hiromasa Yonebayashi and Ghibli mastermind Hayao Miyazaki, who wrote co-wrote the screenplay, Arrietty will transfix other youngsters (and animation fans of all ages) with the glorious detail of its natural world, all beautifully amplified and suffused with everyday magic when viewed through the eyes of a pocket-sized adventurer. (1:35) Metreon, Shattuck. (Chun)

*Shame It’s been a big 2011 for Michael Fassbender, with Jane Eyre, X-Men: First Class, Shame, and A Dangerous Method raising his profile from art-house standout to legit movie star (of the “movie stars who can also act” variety). Shame may only reach one-zillionth of X-Men‘s audience due to its NC-17 rating, but this re-teaming with Hunger (2008) director Steve McQueen is Fassbender’s highest achievement to date. He plays Brandon, a New Yorker whose life is tightly calibrated to enable a raging sex addiction within an otherwise sterile existence, including an undefined corporate job and a spartan (yet expensive-looking) apartment. When brash, needy, messy younger sister Cissy (Carey Mulligan, speaking of actors having banner years) shows up, yakking her life all over his, chaos results. Shame is a movie that unfolds in subtle details and oversized actions, with artful direction despite its oft-salacious content. If scattered moments seem forced (loopy Cissy’s sudden transformation, for one scene, into a classy jazz singer), the emotions — particularly the titular one — never feel less than real and raw. (1:39) Opera Plaza. (Eddy)

*Tim and Eric’s Billion Dollar Movie It’s almost impossible to describe Adult Swim hit Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!, but “cable access on acid” comes pretty close. It’s awkward, gross, repetitive, and quotable; it features unsettling characters portrayed by famous comedians and unknowns who may not actually be actors. It all springs from the twisted brains of Tim Heidecker and Eric Wareheim, now on the big screen with Tim and Eric’s Billion Dollar Movie. The premise: Tim and Eric (amplified-to-the-extreme versions of Heidecker and Wareheim) get a billion to make a movie, and the end result is a very short film involving a lot of diamonds and a Johnny Depp impersonator. On the run from their angry investors (including a hilariously spitting-mad Robert Loggia), the pair decides to earn back the money managing a run-down mall filled with deserted stores (and weird ones that sell things like used toilet paper) and haunted by a man-eating wolf. Or something. Anyway, the plot is just an excuse to unfurl the Tim and Eric brand of bizarre across the length of a feature film; if you’re already in the cult, you’ve probably already seen the film (it’s been On Demand for weeks). Adventurous newcomers, take note: Tim and Eric’s comedy is the ultimate love-it-or-hate-it experience. There is no middle ground. There are, however, some righteously juicy poop jokes. (1:32) Roxie. (Eddy)

*21 Jump Street One of the more pleasant surprises on the mainstream comedy landscape has to be this, ugh, “reboot” of the late-’80s TV franchise. I wasn’t a fan of the show — or its dark-eyed, bad-boy star, Johnny Depp — back in the day, but I am of this unexpectedly funny rework overseen by apparent enthusiast, star, co-writer, and co-executive producer Jonah Hill, with a screenplay by Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010) co-writer Michael Bacall. There’s more than a smidge of Bacall’s other high school fantasy, Project X, in the buddy comedy premise of nerd (Hill’s Schmidt) meets blowhard (Channing Tatum’s Jenko), but 21 Jump Street thankfully leapfrogs the former with its meta-savvy, irreverent script and har-dee-har cameo turns by actors like Ice Cube as Captain Dickson (as well as a few key uncredited players who shall remain under deep cover). High school continues to haunt former classmates Schmidt and Jenko, who have just graduated from the lowly police bike corps to a high school undercover operation — don’t get it twisted, though, Dickson hollers at them; they got this gig solely because they look young. Still, the whole drug-bust enchilada is put in jeopardy when the once-socially toxic Schmidt finds his brand of geekiness in favor with the cool kids and so-called dumb-jock Jenko discovers the pleasures of the mind with the chem lab set. Fortunately for everyone, this crew doesn’t take themselves, or the source material, too seriously. (1:49) Marina, Metreon, 1000 Van Ness, Shattuck, Sundance Kabuki. (Chun)

Wrath of the Titans Playing fast and loose with Greek myths but not agile enough to kick out a black metal jam during a flaming underworld power-grab, Wrath of Titans is, as expected, a bit of a CGI-crammed mess. Still, the sword-and-sandals franchise has attracted scads of international actorly talent — the cast is enriched this time by Édgar Ramírez (2010’s Carlos), Bill Nighy, and Rosamund Pike — and you do get at least one cool monster and paltry explication (Cerberus, which bolts from earth for no discernible reason except that maybe all hell is breaking loose). Just because action flicks like Cloverfield (2008) have long dispensed with narrative handlebars doesn’t mean that age-old stories like the Greek myths should get completely random with their titanic tale-spinning. Wrath opens on the twilight of the gods: Zeus (Liam Neeson) is practically groveling before Perseus (Sam Worthington) — now determined to go small, raise his son, and work on his fishing skills — and trying to persuade him to step up and help the Olympians hold onto power. Fellow Zeus spawn Ares (Ramírez) is along for the ride, so demigod up, Perseus. In some weird, last-ditch attempt to ream his bro Zeus, the oily, mulleted Hades (Ralph Fiennes) has struck a deal with their entrapped, chaotic, castrating fireball of a dad Cronus to let them keep their immortality, on the condition that Zeus is sapped of his power. Picking up Queen Andromeda (Pike) along the way, Perseus gets the scoop on how to get to Hell from Hephaestus (Nighy playing the demented Vulcan like a ’60s acid casualty, given to chatting with mechanical owl Bubo, a wink to 1981 precursor Clash of the Titans, which set the bar low for the remake). Though there are some distracting action scenes (full of speedy, choppy edits that confuse disorientation for excitement) and a few intriguing monsters (just how did the Minotaur make it to this labyrinth?), there’s no money line like “Release the Kraken!” this time around, and there’s way too much nattering on about fatherly responsibility and forgiveness —making these feel-good divinities sound oddly, mawkishly Christian and softheaded rather than mythically pagan and brattily otherworldly. Wasn’t the appeal of the gods linked to the fact that they always acted more like outta-hand adolescents than holier-than-thou deities? I guess that’s why no one’s praying to them anymore. (1:39) Metreon, 1000 Van Ness. (Chun) *

 

The Performant: Ferocious many

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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The Ferocious Few and the Anarchist Bookfair disturb the peace.

In the as-yet unwritten book of Bay Area music, at least one chapter should be devoted solely to the bands whose crowd-wrangling skills and attention-grabbing music was honed on the mean streets. From the Mission District’s once-infamous “Live at Leeds” location, inaugurated by punk band Shotwell and later championed by the imitable Rube Waddell (the band, not the ballplayer), to the wriggling mass hysteria of a Gomorran Social Aid and Pleasure Club Parade, to the compact cacophony of one-person clown band Masha Matin, and the finger-pickin’ good Americana of Brian Belknap, the streets of San Francisco, like the infamous hills, are alive with the sound of music.

Of the current ranks of street-side crooners, The Ferocious Few have come to embody the best qualities of the breed. Combining sheer persistence with a driving, southern-rock-influenced, guitar-and-drum combo, at a volume constantly pushing at the edge of 11, the Few prove that safety may be in numbers, but that rock music was never meant to be safe.

However, headlining the Great American Music Hall is a considerable step up from frolicking anonymously in the gutters, and it may be for this reason that when the Few took the stage after a blistering set from Zodiac Death Valley, they had morphed into the many — five rather than two. The focal point was still frontman Francisco Fernandez, whose full-throttle guitar-playing and aggressive, sandpaper-and-moonshine vocals have remained the constant of the Few through several lineups.

Joined by Fred Barnes on Bass, Kevin Oliver on Guitar and keys, and not one but two rock-solid drummers, Jeremy Black, and an effervescent Andrew Laubacher, Fernandez did stray from the Ferocious formula a couple of times, even edging into noodly psych-band territory, but for the most part, adding new musicians to the mix merely meant adding an extra boost to the overall Ferocious sound. But the question remaining is, does this show herald the beginning of a new era for the not-quite-as-Few, or a temporary enhancement of the old? Either way, you’ll want to stay tuned.

Another constantly morphing, scrappy San Francisco stand-by is the annual Anarchist Bookfair, now in its 17th year. One part bookseller’s convention, one part soapbox, and one part educational forum, the Bookfair pulls together a more or less unified presence from a variety of splinter factions from the activist frontlines: radical librarians, punk rock zinesters, oral historians, animal liberators, intentional communities, ideological theorists, and more. Speakers and panels are a big part of the draw, and every year it seems like there’s someone new to the lineup, a reason to keep coming back for more.

This year’s wild card event was a panel somewhat opportunistically entitled “Occupy the Future: Science Fiction writers on radical visions of tomorrow,” featuring sci-fi authors Rudy Rucker, John Shirley, and Terry Bisson. Beginning by positing the question of whether or not the future might include an “anarchist society that works,” the three alternated between discussing technology vs. its breakdown, cooperation vs. chaos, cyberpunk vs. technological singularity, and whether or not humanity has the capability to change with or without a tech “fix.” It was by far the most engaging conversation I encountered at the fair all weekend, though no group consensus was ever reached as to what the future might hold. Hopefully, at a minimum, it will hold more bookfairs.

Editorial: Reject the CPMC deal!

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EDITORIAL For most of the past year, Mayor Ed Lee had been taking a tough line with California Pacific Medical Center, the health-care giant that wants to build a state-of-the-art 555-bed hospital on Cathedral Hill. The mayor had been telling a stunningly recalcitrant CMPC management that the outfit would have to put upwards of $70 million into affordable housing and spent millions more on transit, neighborhood and charity-care programs to mitigate the impacts of the massive project.

But late in March, something happened. Under immense pressure from the Chamber of Commerce and other big business groups, the mayor buckled and agreed to a deal with woefully inadequate mitigation measures. The supervisors should reject the plan and force CPMC to do better.

The biggest problem with a project this size is the mix of jobs and housing. Lee is properly concerned about creating jobs in a city where unemployment in some neighborhoods is stubbornly high. But the proposed deal only guarantees a tiny fraction of the 1,500 permanent new jobs for San Francisco residents.

That means a city that has almost zero vacancy in affordable housing is going to have to absorb a workforce much of which won’t be able to buy or rent anything at current market rates. That means more competition for scarcer housing and higher rents and home costs for everyone.

By any basic planning logic, CPMC should be on the hook for providing enough affordable housing for at least some reasonable percentage of its workforce. Instead, the hospital chain is offering about $33 million, only $3 million of which will be paid up front. That won’t even address half of the housing impact. Besides, the jobs will be there when construction starts, and more when the hospital opens; the limited affordable housing money will come much later. The highest-paid doctors and administrators may be able to afford the pricey new market-rate condos the city is madly approving — but where, exactly, are the nurses, orderlies, clerks, janitors and other health-care workers going to live?

CPMC has agreed to provide charity care at the same level is currently does — which is abysmally low, among the lowest of all nonprofit hospital chains in California. So that’s not an advantage.

And it has promised to keep open St. Luke’s Hospital in the Mission — the only full-service hospital other than SF General in the southeast part of town. But the proposal calls for cutting the number of beds by nearly two-thirds, from 229 to 80. And it allows for the closure of that hospital if CPMC’s system-wide operating margin falls below 1 percent (something that will be hard for the city to challenge, since CPMC handles the books).

It’s cynical how CPMC is using this critical medical facility in an underserved area as a bargaining chip. Already, hospital lobbyists are warning that St. Luke’s will be shut down if they don’t get what they want on Cathedral Hill.

Meanwhile, CPMC has labor trouble and is refusing to guarantee that existing employees at facilities that will be demolished will be able to keep their jobs and seniority at the new hospital.

We realize that CPMC needs to build a new facility to replace aging and seismically unsafe structures elsewhere in town. But the hospital chain also has a responsibility to address the impacts this project will have on San Francisco. And right now, it’s not a good deal.

 

Localized Appreesh: Love Songs

Tony Robles
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Localized Appreesh: Love Songs

Localized Appreesh is our weekly thank-you column to the musicians that make the Bay. To be considered, contact emilysavage@sfbg.com.

Love Songs, a long-running SF band with high-five worthy metal riffs, is party punk at its funnest. Here, the wailing guitars meet lead singer Craig Ums’ (also of What Happens Next?) classic pop punk holler a la Descendents’ Milo with a mildly Jello Biafra-ish flair for live theatrics.

The whole package is loud, spazzy skate-the-pool, fuck-the-rules backyard/basement thrills (see: “Thrillhouse” lyrics “We belong in the basement”).  See also: the band’s 2007 seven-inch single “Hot Buns,” said to be the “sequel to the theme of the sequel to Top Gun.” See? It’s long been destined for good things.

And yet Love Songs has had a sparse couple of years (with guitarist Jackson splitting, and the band playing just a few shows in in 2011). But it’s back, with a brand new addition, (Frank, who they describe as “a shredder and a super nice guy”) and ready to split open the Knockout tonight. It should be a night of firsts: the unveiling of the formidable Frank, the first time you read this column and head directly to a bar, perhaps your first ice cream sandwich of the week? I don’t know you, I don’t know what you’re getting into.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c0hF6g6awPI

Year and location of origin: Born in 1999 on unincorporated land in the hills separating the east bay from even east-er bay. Also, down the street from Jason Newstead.

Band name origin: Why not just warn people out of the gates that they’re about to get motherfucking lite-rocked?

Band motto: Hard and soft.

Description of sound in 10 words or less: We dig bands starting with D – Descendents, Dickies, Damned, DEVO…

Instrumentation: drums, bass, 2 guitars, “singing.”

Most recent release: Time Off – a 5-song EP with lots of guitar solos but fewer scatological references than usual. Available through www.thelovesongs.com.

Best part about life as a Bay Area band: We’re in good company and there are always shows to play/go to.

Worst part about life as a Bay Area band: Having to compete with so many good shows all the time.

First album ever purchased: Midnight Star No Parking On My Dancefloor.

Most recent album purchased/downloaded: Weird Al Yankovic Alpocalypse.

Favorite local eatery and dish: Zachary’s deep dish pizza with jalapenos and pineapple.

Love Songs
With People’s Temple, Tall Timbers
Tue/3, 8:30pm, $6
Knockout
3223 Mission, SF
www.theknockoutsf.com

Hot Snakes reunion thrills

Tony Robles
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Right out of the gate, late ’90s San Diego post-hardcore supergroup Hot Snakes kicked off its reunion show at Bottom of the Hill Friday with “I Hate the Kids” (Suicide Invoice, 2002).

The chant-able anthem (“I hate the kids/I hate the kids”)  roared with the group’s likable energy and set the tone for a crystalline night of electrifying fan favorites. (And the show was packed and sweaty with a very specific type of fan in fact, but I’ll get to that later.) The hour-and-some-change set thundered, roared, and titillated.

It felt like the band never left. Though it dispersed in 2005, Hot Snakes’ founding members — thrilling, quick-fingered guitarist John Reis and smokers holler expert/lead vocalist-guitarist Rick Froberg, both formerly of Drive Like Jehu — have continued steady careers in underground acts like the Night Marchers and Obits, and this is likely why the band sounded so tight, so pre-expiration date meaty fresh.

It left many in the crowd wondering, ‘”where are the new bands like this today?” Where is all the restless, shouting pain matched with unquestionable musicianship now? And how does Froberg not lose his voice after every show?

There were many explosive moments, perhaps too many to recall. Particular standouts of absolute shred and matching audience reaction include “Braintrust” and “LAX.” After quickly ripping through tracks off 2000’s Automatic Midnight (“No Hands” stood out) Suicide Invoice, and Audit in Progress (2004) — with in-between banter kept to a bare minimum — the quartet, which switched out drummers mid-set, ended the official pre-encore set with another killer chant-along, “Plenty for All” (off Audit in Progress).

During that pre-encore finale, the cheery guitar line mixed with reminiscent, tongue-in-cheek lyrics of Southern California glitter and jabs at all-that-glitters-is-not-gold consumerism left a crowd of relocators (*that’s what this particular fan group felt like to me, 25-45-year-old Southern California transplants to the Bay Area, of varying degrees of cool, rockabilly, punk, still living for the thrill of live fast rock’n’roll) singing another ode to days of yore: “Southern California/Let’s go!/There’s room for us all.” And it felt like home.

Heads Up: 8 must-see concerts this week

Tony Robles
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This week, most of the crucial shows are hella local (as is that faux pas slang). What can you do? We’re all cogs in the Bay Area machine. And we happen to have a lot of impressive musicians within spitting distance. There are cheap shows spread across the hyper-local map starring Religious Girls, French Cassettes, Midnite Snaxxx, Thee Oh Sees, and Il Gato.

A few non-locals made the list too, we can’t all be #based here, of course – where would the fun be in that? Visiting out-of-towners Polyphonic Spree, Caroline Chocolate Drops, and more, remind us that bands like to tour here too. Give them your hard-earned cash to support the ubiquitous hard-wrought traveling musician travails.

Here are your must-see Bay Area concerts this week/end:

Polyphonic Spree
Reach for the light with the colorful, cultish goodness of joy-poppers Polyphonic Spree, still spreading that spaced out cheer.
With New Fumes
Tue/3, 8pm, $20.
Great American Music Hall
859 O’Farrell, SF
www.slimspresents.com
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rHJo_klmPcA

Il Gato
Baroque pop excellence returns — for those playing along at home, Il Gato graced the cover of the Guardian’s fall preview way back in 2011. Now the band is hard at work on its next album, and it recently set up a Kickstarter campaign to help ease the costs.
With Passenger & Pilot, Red Weather, Drew Victor
Thu/5, 8pm, $10
Cafe Du Nord
2170 Market, SF
(415) 861-5016
www.cafedunord.com
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dvquZoRE5hY

Religious Girls, Mister Loveless, B Hamilton, French Cassettes
Not only are these all delectable Oakland acts (save for French Cassettes: SF) – including returning GOLDIES champs/tribal percussionists/weirdo synthsters Religious Girls – but this show is an Art Murmur freebie. Show up early to catch all the acts, and remember to tip your bartenders.
Fri/6, 6pm, free
Uptown
1928 Telegraph, Oakl.
(510) 451-8100
www.uptownnightclub.com

Thrones
Thrones is just one dude: Seattle’s Joe Preston, the metal-grinding doom bassist/Moog-enthusiast who’s spent time on tastemaker labels Kill Rock Stars and Southern Lord, and played alongside Earth, the Melvins, and High on Fire.
With Helms Alee, Grayceon
Fri/6, 9:30pm, $10
Hemlock
1131 Polk, SF
(415) 923-0923
www.hemlocktavern.com
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XacI2AknauM

ALL THE CHILDREN SING: Adobe Books Benefit Concert with Thee Oh Sees
Psych-garage rock experts/locals Thee Oh Sees swoop in to support Adobe Books — the event is a fundraiser for the beloved shop suffering an imminent rent increase. The benefit also includes more real live rockers, a silent art auction, and stand-up comedy by local comedians George Chen (whose own experimental noise band, Chen Santa Maria, plays Bottom of the Hill Mon/9) and Anna Seregina.
With Sonny and the Sunsets, the Mallard
Sat/7, 8:30pm, $10-$20 sliding scale
Lab
2948 16th St., SF
Facebook: All The Children Sing
adobebooksbackroomgallery.blogspot.com
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z1bHddYhtDw

Carolina Chocolate Drops
This Grammy Award-having old-time string band from North Carolina just released its seventh joyous, foot-stomping blues album (Leaving Eden) and has a song (“Daughter’s Lament”) on the lauded Hunger Games soundtrack.
Sat/7, 8pm, $20
Slim’s
333 11th St., SF
(415) 255-0333
www.slimspresents.com
Check this killer banjo-and-fiddle cover of Blu Cantrell’s “Hit ‘Em Up Style”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wKTXJUYiAT4

Bear in Heaven
“In the kaleidoscopic video for the album’s charming lead single, “The Reflection of You,” cameras zoom in and out on [Jon] Philpot, guitarist Adam Wills, and drummer Joe Stickney at a rapid pace as strobe lights flash beneath them. It’s a hyper-stimulating, entirely accurate depiction of the band’s sound; once the rollercoaster ride is over, you can think of nothing but jumping back in line and doing it all over again.” (Frances Capell).
See Frances’ full story in this week’s issue.
With Blouse, Doldrums
Sun/8, 8pm, $15
Independent
628 Divisadero, SF
(415) 771-1421
www.theindependentsf.com
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tjW5rkXiQdc

Midnite Snaxxx
Oakland’s favorite punky, lo-fi garage rockers, Midnite Snaxx — featuring Trashwomen’s Tina Lucchesi, and the Guardian’s Dulcinea Gonzalez, formerly of Loudmouths — return to the cavernous inner Knockout sanctum.
With White Murder, Glitz
Sun/8, 9pm
Knockout
3223 Mission, SF
(415) 550-6994
www.theknockoutsf.com

Neutral Milk Hotel’s Jeff Mangum adds Great American Music Hall show

Tony Robles
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The elusive Jeff Mangum – he of reverentially adored experimental folk act Neutral Milk Hotel – rarely  tours. This, compounded by his strangely personal and dream-provoking lyrics, has caused a boiling fervor over the singer-songwriter that’s rarely seen outside of Morrissey and teen pop stars.

In a recent AV Club article (that also mentions Morrissey and teen pop stars), an author who is somewhat lukewarm on the band, but nonetheless attends a show on this recent tour – to see what all the fuss is about –  describes NMH fans as believing the band’s 1998 album Aeroplane Over the Sea is “the sacred masterpiece or apex of ’90s indie-rock” (For the record, it’s both, thanks.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RUd9uDREHcs&feature=related

For the counterpoint, the other author in the article sums up the obsession from the start: “This Jeff Mangum tour wasn’t meant for you, the casual fan. It was meant for the diehards who snapped up all the tickets immediately when they went on sale, who fell deeply in love with a record over the years and never thought they’d get the chance to see any of its songs performed live, because its creator was notoriously reticent about performing.”

That said, Mangum has had a double set of shows locked down at the Fox Theater for months now, and yes, most of those tickets are now snapped up (see Picks this week).

And yet, as of this morning, there is a brand new show added to this tour: this Sunday, April 8 at Great American Music Hall. Tickets go on sale today (Mon/2) at 3pm. That’s right, after all that waiting, all that obsessed fan countdown, you’ll now also have the chance to see him in San Francisco proper, at a stunning venue half the size.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z1irjRAvy9c

Jeff Mangum
With Andrew, Scott & Laura (members of Elf Power & The Gerbils)
Sun/8, 8pm, $36
Great American Music Hall
859 O’Farrell, SF
(415) 885-0750
www.gamhtickets.com

Live Shots: ‘Fart of Gold,’ Home Theater Festival

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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“Make sure to get a spot towards the back of the room,” I told Sam Love as we made our way to Dana Street Theater on Berkeley. “Philip’s shows often involve things and sometimes liquids flying.” And I was right. There was some definite yam peeling, neti-pot-pouring, and chair-flying moments sprinkled throughout the show. Did I mention that we were in Philip’s bedroom?

“That’s the whole point, honey!” Philip told me.

The Home Theater Festival is an opportunity for actors and artists to perform and showcase their work, including GOLDIE winner Philip Huang’s “Fart of Gold” — and it’s all done from the comfort of their own home. Now in its third year, the Home Theater Festival concept has taken off as an alternative for performers who can’t afford a professional venue, and is happening all over the world.
 
The evening started with some seriously hilarious story telling by Cassandra Gorgeous (the topic was really too intimate to talk about… go see her perform yourself!), followed by Philip and his director, Theo Knox, taking us through an evening of mini-shows, ranging from alien-butoh to a dance performance by a character with limited arm movement, at which point the dude sitting next to me exclaimed, “Boy, this is soo uncomfortable to watch,” as tears of joy streamed down his face.
 
The Home Theater Festival runs until June 3rd, and “Fart of Gold” runs Friday and Saturday night. Don’t miss the weirdness. It’s good for you.

Look got took? Hi Fashion has your anthem

Andrew Lam
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The other day I saw this woman was walking down the street, spitting image of Rose from the Golden Girls. Excuse?! Lady, I know you didn’t get the glimmer for those high-waisted purple pants all by yourself. Leave it to LA electro pop duo Hi Fashion to debut a video (featuring luks crafted entirely by the group itself) today that speaks to this exact situation. So that I don’t have to. Because no one wants that mess. If you wanna get Hi live and in person, check out the group’s May 11 gig at Rickshaw Stop when it opens for JD Samson. 

Dick Meister: Cesar Chavez: A true American hero

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By Dick Meister

Dick Meister, former labor editor of the SF Chronicle and KQED-TV Newsroom, has covered labor and politics for more than a half-century. He’s the co-author of “A Long Time Coming: The Struggle To Unionize American’s Farm Workers” (Macmillan). Contact him through his website, www.dickmeister.com

I hope we can all pause and reflect on the extraordinary life of a true American hero on Saturday (March 31). It’s Cesar Chavez Day, proclaimed by President Obama and observed throughout the country on the 85th birth date of the late founder of the United Farm Workers union.  In California, it’s an official state holiday.

As President Obama noted, Chavez was a leader in launching “one of our nation’s most inspiring movements.” He taught us, Obama added, “that social justice takes action, selflessness and commitment. As we face the challenges of the day, let us do so with the hope and determination of Cesar Chavez.”

Like another American hero, Martin Luther King Jr., Chavez inspired and energized millions of people worldwide to seek and win basic human rights that had long been denied them, and inspired millions of others to join the struggle.

Certainly there are few people in any field more deserving of special attention, certainly no one I’ve met in more than a half-century of labor reporting.

I first met Cesar Chavez when I was covering labor for the SF Chronicle. It was on a hot summer night in 1965 in the little San Joaquin Valley town of Delano, California. Chavez, shining black hair trailing across his forehead, wearing a green plaid shirt that had become almost a uniform, sat behind a makeshift desk topped with bright red Formica.

“Si se puede,” he said repeatedly to me, a highly skeptical reporter, as we talked deep into the early morning hours there in the cluttered shack that served as headquarters for him and the others who were trying to create an effective farm workers union.

“Si se puede! – it can be done!”

But I would not be swayed. Too many others, over too many years, had tried and failed to win for farm workers the union rights they absolutely had to have if they were to escape the severe economic and social deprivation inflicted on them by their grower employers.

The Industrial Workers of the World who stormed across western fields early in the 20th century, the Communists who followed, the socialists, the AFL and CIO organizers – all their efforts had collapsed under the relentless pressure of growers and their powerful political allies.

I was certain this effort would be no different. I was wrong. I had not accounted for the tactical brilliance, creativity, courage and just plain stubbornness of Cesar Chavez, a sad-eyed, disarmingly soft-spoken man who talked of militancy in calm, measured tones, a gentle and incredibly patient man who hid great strategic talent behind shy smiles and an attitude of utter candor.

Chavez grasped the essential fact that farm workers had to organize themselves. Outside organizers, however well intentioned, could not do it. Chavez, a farm worker himself, carefully put together a grass-roots organization that enabled the workers to form their own union, which then sought out – and won – widespread support from influential outsiders.

The key weapon of the organization, newly proclaimed the United Farm Workers, or UFW, was the boycott. It was so effective between 1968 and 1975 that 12 percent of the country’s adult population – that’s 17 million people – quit buying table grapes.

The UFW’s grape boycott and others against wineries and lettuce growers won the first farm union contracts in history in 1970. That led to enactment five years later of the California law – also a first – that requires growers to bargain collectively with workers who vote for unionization. And that led to substantial improvements in the pay, benefits, working conditions and general status of the state’s farm workers. Similar laws, with similar results, have now been enacted elsewhere.

The struggle that finally led to victory was extremely difficult for the impoverished workers, and Chavez risked his health – if not his life – to provide them extreme examples of the sacrifices necessary for victory. Most notably, he engaged in lengthy, highly publicized fasts that helped rally the public to the farm workers’ cause and that may very well have contributed to his untimely death in 1993 at age 66.

Fasts, boycotts. It’s no coincidence that those were the principal tools of Mohandas Gandhi, for Chavez drew much of his inspiration from the Hindu leader.  Like Gandhi and another of his models, Martin Luther King Jr., Chavez fervently believed in the tactics of non-violence. Like them, he showed the world how profoundly effective they can be in seeking justice from even the most powerful opponents.

“We have our bodies and spirits and the justice of our cause as our weapons,” Chavez explained.

His iconic position has been questioned recently by outsiders claiming Chavez acted as a dictator in his last years as head of the UFW. But what the UFW accomplished under his leadership, and how the union accomplished it, will never be forgotten – not by the millions of social activists who have been inspired and energized by the farm workers’ struggle, nor by the workers themselves.

Chavez deservedly remains, and undoubtedly will always remain, an American icon who led the way  to winning important legal rights for farm workers. But more than union contracts, and more than laws, farm workers now have what Cesar Chavez insisted was needed above all else. That, as he told me so many years ago, “is to have the workers truly believe and understand and know that they are free, that they are free men and women, that they are free to stand up and fight for their rights.”

Freedom. No leader has ever left a greater legacy. But the struggle continues. Despite the UFW victories, farm workers are in great need of fully exercising the rights won under Chavez’ leadership. They need to reverse what has been a decline in the UFW’s fortunes in recent years, caused in part by lax enforcement of the laws that granted farm workers union rights.

Many farm workers are still mired in poverty, their pay and working and living conditions a national disgrace. They average less than $10,000 a year and have few – if any – fringe benefits. They suffer seasonal unemployment.

Job security is rare, as many of the workers are desperately poor immigrants from Mexico or Central America who must take whatever is offered or be replaced by other desperately poor workers from the endless stream of immigrants. Child labor is rampant.

Most hiring and firing is done at the whim of employers, many of them wealthy corporate growers or labor contractors who unilaterally set pay and working conditions and otherwise act arbitrarily.

Workers are often exposed to dangerous pesticides and other serious health and safety hazards that make farm work one of the country’s most dangerous occupations. They often even lack such on-the-job amenities as fresh drinking water and field toilets, and almost invariably are forced to live in overcrowded, seriously substandard housing.

Cesar Chavez Day should remind us of the continuing need to take forceful legal steps and other action in behalf of farm workers – to help them overcome their wretched conditions and finally provide a decent life for all those who do the hard, dirty and dangerous work that puts fruit and vegetables on our tables.

We need, in short, to carry on what Cesar Chavez began. We could pay no greater homage to his memory.

 Dick Meister, former labor editor of the SF Chronicle and KQED-TV Newsroom, has covered labor and politics for more than a half-century. He’s the co-author of “A Long Time Coming: The Struggle To Unionize American’s Farm Workers” (Macmillan). Contact him through his website, www.dickmeister.com

Nite Trax: Sisterz of the Underground re-fresh the Bay

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Nite Trax: Sisterz of the Underground re-fresh the Bay

Sometimes being a nightlife writer feels like getting stranded on Techno Dude Island. Not always cuuute. So when I got wind that the classic Sisterz of the Underground hip-hop party crew was hitting the Bay for a huge 10-year anniversary celebration Sat/31 including a party at Public Works and a day of tech workshops and empowerment talks at CellSpace, I jumped on the chance for a breath of fresh female air and an indepth talk with folks who inspired me back in the day to try a few dance floor moves I probably shouldn’t have.

SOTU founder Sarah “Smalls” McCann, creative director Traci P, and organizer Crykit moved away from the Bay a little while ago (and the groundbreaking in-school hip-hop education program they started, Def Ed, is currently in hibernation mode), but the international Sisterz of the Underground network they helped establish is still thriving and inspiring women to discover and transmit the roots of hip-hop dance, art, music, creativity, and culture. The 10th anniversary party reflects that all-encompassing approach with live music from Kid Sister, DJ Shortee, Green B, Jeanine da Feen, and tons more, plus a 1-on-1 dance battle, art and vendor fair, live painting, nail booth… It’ll be a much-needed femme attack in this age of War on Women, hip-hop style acrimony, and the mainstreaming of street spirit. 

I communicated with the trio over email in anticipation of their return, and got not only the trademark Sisterz blend of energy, outspokenness, and positivity, but some juicy tidbits about Bay hip-hop history, the current state of rap and dance, and the ladies’ current doings as well. Check it.      

SISTERZ OF THE UNDERGROUND 10-YEAR ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION

Sat/31 at Public Works and CellSpace

Details and tickets: sisterzunderground.eventbrite.com

Facebook Invite is here.

 

SFBG It’s been a minute since you’ve been on my radar. Can you introduce yourself and tell us what’s going on with y’all now?

TRACI P I moved to Las Vegas a little over a year and a half ago after an almost decade stint in San Francisco throwing events and creative directing the Sisterz of the Underground. Currently I am the managing partner of RAW Entertainment (www.raw-e.com) which is both a booking agency and event production company based here in Sin City. I book for a variety of artists, like BReal of Cypress Hill,  two-time DMC champ DJ SHIFTEE, and NYC club and fashion DJ Roxy Cottontail. Aside from artist bookings I continue to produce local events here in Vegas as well as a monthly in San Francisco called Femme Fatale at John Colins, every second Thursday — it features an all-female lineup and highlights music, fashion, and art. The next one is Thu., April 12, and will feature live painting, a guest performer and a dubstep DJ line-up including Lotus Drops, Sculltrain and Smashletooth. I also write music interviews for Thrasher Magazine, mostly about hip-hop and rap artists.

SARAH “SMALLS” MCCANN I’m the founder of SOTU and also a B-girl in the Extra Credit Kru. After years of being in the Bay and running SOTU and Def Ed, our hip-hop education program, I moved down to Los Angeles at the end of 2006. Since then, most of my experience has been selling events at various venues including House of Blues Hollywood and Jillian’s Universal. Currently, I’m the marketing sales manager at Pacific Park, the amusement park at the Santa Monica pier while also being a partner in Clique Events Society and a board member for the tour and travel marketing association of Southern California.

On the side of all of that, I also run an entertainment company with my husband, B-boy Machine, called Hit the Floor Productions (www.hitthefloorproductions.com), help direct our in-house dance company, West Bound, and manage Bboy Machine as an artist. When I’m not busy being the business guru that I am, I’m still just a hip-hop head and a die-hard B-girl with Extra Credit Kru! However at this present moment, I’m not breaking as i’m almost 8 months pregnant with my first child!

CRYKIT Hey hey! I’m Michelle, aka Crykit, aka Miss Crix 🙂 I grew up on a farm in Wisconsin, moved to the Bay Area in 2000, LA in 2010, and currently in Las Vegas since 2011. I started DJing, popping,  and breaking in 2002. The rave scene of 98-02 is really where it all began for me. For the last eight years B-girling has been my main focus. I’ve been a member of Extra Credit Kru since day one and with this crew of amazing talented inspiring ladies we’ve taught in schools and studios, entered hundreds of battles, performed at some pretty epic events, been featured in music videos and short films, traveled nationally and internationally

When I moved to LA I manifested what originally was an idea for a hip fashion line with the perfect balance of masculine and feminine HAPPY MEDIUM, into a dancy DJ duo that encompasses everything from dance to art to fashion to music. My partner in crime is a funky stylin’ B-girl I met back in the Bay: Faye aka 13 Moons. (She is DJing the 1-on-1 female dance battle at our Public Works party.)

 

SFBG You must have a lot of memories of SOTU — how did it all come together and what stands out for you most from the past decade?

TRACI P Sarah’s the founder, but I can tell you a bit about how I started with the collective. I moved to San Francisco when I was 19 after leaving UC Davis. Having decided to take an alternate educational path towards my ultimate goal of working in the music industry, I decided to intern at as many record companies and entertainment-oriented entities I could. This included Bomb Hip Hop, Look Records, Live Up Records, and Quannum Records. A boyfriend of mine at the time introduced me to Sarah. I loved the idea of women in the music industry and hip-hop, and felt an overwhelming sense of welcome and support in the collective. I pushed Sarah to let me do whatever she needed and learn more about how she produced events and operated. I started coming in everyday. I had such a respect for her vision, dedication, and the energy she put into making this collective so visible and tangible for women all around the globe. From then on she became a mentor to me. Both she and the Sisterz of the Underground changed my life forever.

SMALLS Well, this is always a long answer for me, as even though I’m pregnant with my first child, I always saw SOTU as my real first child. This all started back in 2000 when I was approached by the owner of the Justice League (now the Independent) about doing a hip-hop event at the venue. I was super inspired by two females in my life at that time: Arouz, a female graff artist, and Inchant, a female MC. i thought it would be super dope to produce an all-female hip-hop event that included all elements of hip-hop (MCing, breaking, graffiti, DJing, beatboxing, etc.). I spent about a month scouting talent from all over and found B-girls from UC Berkeley, Syndel from old dominion, and many more. I asked Medusa to be the headliner and threw a show on January 18, 2001 called Sisterz of the Underground.
The show had over 600 attendees and was a huge success! After the show, everyone was asking me who is Sisterz of the Underground… Well, I was in college at the time and didn’t really have any plans for who or what was SOTU. I decided to ask the girls involved if they were interested in forming a collective where women could comfortably express themselves, come together to share, and put on shows.

After a few more successful shows in the Bay, I decided to organize a group of us to teach at a young women’s conference. At this time, we really didn’t know what we were doing, but we knew we had something to share. From that conference, we were contacted by two all girl groups to come and teach at their center. Well, the year was filled with many shows and many workshops and soon we were voted “Best Hip-Hop Monthly of the Year” in the Guardian and we created a hip-hop education program called Def Ed. Def Ed became such a success and grew into a program that was eventually serving over 3,000 youth a year and existing in 6 counties of the Bay Area.

It’s hard to pinpoint my favorite point of SOTU, but I have to say that my life wouldn’t be the same without it and i would not be the woman that I am without all of my Sisterz that I have met along the way.

CRYKIT I first found out about SOTU at an all girl weekly dance practice at Dance Mission around 2002. There I felt supported in learning all about the culture and its elements. I would sketch in a black book, create stencils, DJ parties, pop, break, freestyle in the car on battle road trips, hahaha. It just sort of became a part of me, a lifestyle. I’m so grateful to have had a collective of such eclectic, empowering, talented women to grow as an artist with, to jump in a cypher with, to create a mix tape with… And most of these women are like super hero goddesses LOL.. Nurses, firefighters, neuroscientists, designers, massage therapists, business owners… the list goes on and on.

My favorite story I guess would be connecting with and building friendships with girls from other countries like Sweden, Germany, and India through SOTU! It’s so cool the network and community has spread globally.

 

SFBG The lineup for this party at Public Works is absolutely insane! It really brings together some true female talent. With female MCs like Nicki, Azealia Banks, and Iggy Azalea all over, do you have any thoughts about the state of females in hip-hop right now?

TRACI P Thank you first off for the compliment, that’s endearing! As far as the state of females in hip-hop, I would like to start by saying that hip-hop in general is in a state of transition as is the music industry as a whole. As the landscape of popular music shifts more and more to being influenced by electronic music, I think that hip-hop as well is starting to play into this trend. Nicki Minaj is a great rapper but some of her songs are SO far from rap or even hip hop. “Starships,” enough said. Iggy Azalea has got a lot of style and I am interested to see where she goes but I am not so confident in her skills as a lyricist.

Then there are one hitters like Kreayshawn whose success can be attributed to the beat of ‘Gucci Gucci’ being along a electronic-dubstep style as well as her look being right for the time. There is less and less attention paid to substance and more to image and look. Half of these girls can’t even perform live and are in a sense disposable because they have no stage presence. Just a pretty face with flashly clothes and jewelry. Then you have these record labels and agencies making it worse because the industry is so in the toilet that the SECOND they smell a lick of talent, they come along, swoop them up, charge ridiculous amounts of money to promoters, the artist never fully develops before being fed to the sharks, and ultimately fails!

But then you have girls like KID SISTER and MIA who steady hold it down. They have their own style and do a good job of incorporating current trends as well as keeping true to themselves and having a voice instead of being a puppet. I’m forever a student, however, and am interested in what’s to come in the music industry.

And the female DJ should also not be forgotten. As is evident in our line-up we respect all elements of hip-hop and the DJ is no exception. I feel as though the past few years have given rise to a great window of opportunity for female DJs and we’ve seen more and more emerge and tear it up! Living in Vegas I see a lot of plastic behind the decks but there are truly real women who can throw it down and rock a party and/or battle just as good as men, La Femme Deadly Venom for one, Pam the Funkstress, Spinderella, we have our own Crykit in Vegas killing clubs with style. It makes me happy to see this.

SMALLS To be honest, I think hip-hop overall is ever changing and growing with different niches and styles that come through. As for females in hip-hop, we’ve definitely come a long way and are continuing to get out there and do our thing. If you look at the different eras of hip-hop, you’ll see how many female MCs were legends in their own right: MC Lyte, Roxanne Shante, Lil Kim, Raw Digga, Bahamadia, Nicki Minaj, the list goes on and on. I also think that female DJs have come along way and are continuing to show that they can rock just as hard or even harder than some male DJs. The thing that’s always been an issue for us women, or at least for me as a B-girl, was not wanting to be viewed as “just dope for a girl.” We want to be viewed as dope overall for our skill and not having anything to do with the fact that we may be a different sex.

CRYKIT I would like to hear better lyrical content in hip hop overall right now. I’m not really moved by too many female MCs at the moment. Wishing Missy Elliot did more, I feel like she can be true to herself but also bring it in at a commercial level. One thing I love about her is she always had real dancers in her videos.. she understands hip-hop as a whole and a community with all elements on display. I’m excited to bring Kid Sister to Public Works, I love her versatility, she sounds fresh on electro house tracks as well as hip-hop.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zOgLK4t-Rts

SFBG I feel like hip-hop in general in the Bay Area, while still lively, is slipping below the radar, on the down swing of a cycle — any thoughts about that?

TRACI P Hip-hop in the Bay is most def on a decline. It was once a mecca but is no longer a hub for new and exciting artists, unfortunately. I have a lot of friends in the rap and hip-hop industry here in the Bay Area whom I would NEVER discredit or whose music I would never put down but as a whole, but I haven’t seen much that’s exceptionally great coming from this sector of California as far as hip-hop is concerned. I would say that the RAP is still there but the hip hop is falling off. I would also like to take this time to say RIP to Special One of Conscious Daughters who hip-hop lost late last year.

SMALLS Unfortunately I don’t live up there anymore, but I have heard that the hip-hop scene has sort of died. Well, i can tell you that it’s not only in the Bay… it’s the same thing in LA. I remember places like the Justice League where you knew you were always going to find a sick hip-hop show whether it was Black Star or Wu-Tang and in LA going to Project Blowed every week. Now, you’re lucky if you can find a club that doesn’t have a dress code and won’t yell at the B-boys and B-girls for starting a cypher. I think this is one of the many reasons that we’ve tried to keep SOTU alive and always try to incorporate the true meaning of hip hop behind our events!

CRYKIT I would say the hip hop dance scene is still thriving in the Bay Area! There’s a lot of talented dancers from the Bay in videos, TV, movies. And currently there’s classes offered at studios like City Dance taught by dancers who have been in the scene for a long time and have learned from the OGs and originators. There are battles almost every weekend filled with high schoolers and up… So in that arena it is still thriving and is a genuine mecca for dancers.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lBjcW9rnjoE

SFBG I love that you’re having workshops during the day at CellSpace that cover both female empowerment and technical skills. Can you tell me a bit about what inspired you to turn the reunion into a true community event?

TRACI P Community is very important to us and key to the idea of empowerment. Obviously the nighttime events are geared toward adults, but we recognize the importance the youth has in shaping the world as a whole — and it’s always been important for us to reach out to the youth through hip-hop. We also founded a hip-hop education program called Def Ed years back, it is unfortunately no longer active, but we taught at many sites around the Bay and still have strong access to many of the kids around the area, it’s important that we maintain that connection.

Also, there is a lot more to the culture of hip-hop than just what you see on a stage or in a music video, the aspects of art, dance, production, and fashion are equally important. At a time when everything seems so fabricated it’s essential that people be exposed to the roots of music and the culture. It is our mission to teach and empower in any way possible. By having females host these workshops, you never know who might be inspired, because it’s not every day women are so praised in such a male dominated arena such as hip hop.

SMALLS This is easy: SOTU has always been about community, education, growth, expression, and hip-hop. This event marks more than 10 years strong as a female hip-hop collective and tying in all of these aspects was truly important to us. There’s no point in just putting on an event to make money (at least for us)….we wanted to produce an event that included the youth and our amazing sisterz sharing their knowledge along with a night time event to remember. We figured having workshops, battles, showcases, vendors, art galleries and all of the various things we are including in this event would show was SOTU has always been about — true hip-hop expression in an open environment that welcomes anyone and everyone!

Crykit SOTU events have always been community-based, that’s where we all began. I love that a part of the celebration is at Cellspace because that’s where we established our breaking practice eight years ago actually, almost a decade we’ve been working with them. It’s a piece of Bay Area dance history, and our practice is the longest-running established regular practice in the city of San Francisco. It’s always important to include the youth. We love the spirit, freedom, and creativity they bring!

SFBG Can I get a current top 5 from each of you?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lDo8Z-eoBiI

Traci P

MIA, “Bad Girls”

Slaughterhouse, “Hammer Dance”

Schoolboy Q, “Hands on the Wheel”

Joey Bada$$, “Survival Tactics”

J. Cole, “can’t get enough’’


Crykit

1. B.Bravo “Swing My Way” remix

2. Flying Lotus/ Thundercat “$200 TB”

3. Trina “Red Bottoms”

4. Mark Ronson “Animal” remix

5. Rye Rye & M.I.A “Sunshine”

Smalls

If I can twist this and get you my current top 5 reasons for still being a true hip hop head:
1. The feeling I get at a live show when everyone has their hands pumping in the air
2. The feeling I get jumping into a hot cypher where the DJ is killin’ it and everyone wants to get in
3. The feeling i get seeing the little girls of Extra Credit Kru enter a battle with us OGs
4. The feeling I get watching my hubby, B-boy machine, smoke someone on the dance floor
5. The feeling I get knowing that no matter how commercial hip-hop has become, that there’s still so many folks doing it right in the community

 

Live Shots: Howler and the Static Jacks at Hemlock

Tony Robles
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Minneapolis’s Howler paused midway between playing songs from its debut album, America Give Up, to take requests from the audience at the Hemlock Tavern Saturday night. There were a few out of nowhere shout-outs, like “White Rabbit,” but the majority of the suggestions were titles by the Strokes.

On hearing the two bands it’s an obvious comparison, although for Howler perhaps an increasingly tiresome one, especially since singer Jordan Gatesmith seemed bored with the selections and quickly returned to the regularly scheduled program, saying “We’ll just play it safe tonight.”

The irony, though, was that if someone wanted to hear the Strokes’ “The Modern Age,” Howler’s opening track of the night, “Wailing (Making Out)”, already came pretty damn close. These comparisons should be taken as complimentary, for as much as the band seems to be borrowing at this still early in its career — and I also pick up heavy touches of the Replacements* — its doing it well, whether in the restrained guitar work or Gatesmith’s deeply droll, resonant voice, that carries each song with crystal clear lyrics, even during a live performance.

Which wasn’t the case with New Jersey’s the Static Jacks, which, despite actually being the most energetic band of the night, seemed to have it directed in strange directions. I’d been a little puzzled watching the band set-up, spending as much time getting its gear in order as arranging some cardboard art with female caricatures, only to knock the pieces down and step on them once the performance began.

It was only later on that I found out the posters had some actual function, as the singer would occasionally pick up a board — with the word “Follow”, coinciding with the song “Into the Sun,” for instance — to apparently subtitle and highlight some generally muddled and indistinct vocals. 

*My request for “Bastards of Young” was also ignored.

Sis hop

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Sis hop

marke@sfbg.com

SUPER EGO Like many of the great, oldish-school Bay Area hip-hop party collectives, the Sisterz of the Underground core crew has skedaddled — founder Sarah Smalls to LA, creative director Traci P. and organizer Crykit to Las Vegas — following their fortunes to other, perhaps fresher climes. But just like those spectacular b-girl (and -boy) cypher dance circles that have been popping up on finer San Francisco floors of late, the Sisterz are returning, hopefully bringing more of that fly feeling back with them.

A huge Sisterz of the Underground 10th Anniversary Celebration on Sat/31 (sisterzunderground.eventbrite.com) includes not just a dazzling nighttime party at Public Works with music by Kid Sister, DJ Shortee, Butterscotch, La Femme Deadly Venoms, Jeanine Da Feen, Green B, Pony P, and more, plus a gallery show of all-female artists, nail art, vendor fair, live painting, and a one-on-one female all-styles dance battle — but also afternoon production tech and dance workshops and a panel discussion about female empowerment and multiculturalism at CellSpace. The Bay is going to get some phenomenal femme in its face, and not a moment too soon OK?

Talking with the Sisterz is a trip — see my full interview on our SFBG Noise blog — with nostalgic name-drops like storied rap and turntablism venue Justice League, the Extra Credit Kru dance battlers (still in effect), graffiti artist Arouz, emcee Inchant, and Def Ed, the incredible education and empowerment program the Sisterz started that reached schools in six counties in the Bay Area before it was disbanded a couple years ago. The general Sisterz network itself is still slamming, with chapters up and down the West Coast, as well as in New Mexico and Brazil.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zOgLK4t-Rts

And the Sisterz still aren’t shy about expressing themselves. When asked about the state of hip-hop, Traci P says, perhaps with a certain super-hyped Bay Area MC in mind, “There is less and less attention paid to substance and more to image and look. Half of these girls can’t even perform live and are in a sense disposable because they have no stage presence. Just a pretty face with flashy clothes and jewelry. At a time when everything seems so fabricated, it’s essential that people be exposed to the roots of the music and the culture.” Werrrd.

 

SUBB-AN

I caught this UK house wunderkind last year in Berlin at the awesome Tresor club — he played a pumping, expansive set that eventually set off for deeper currents, intricate grooves ride over each other for long periods and innovative technology put into the service of the steamy atmosphere rather than just being “showy.” And he’s cute.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ewt5hS3todw

Thu/29, 10pm, $10. Vessel, 85 Campton Pl., www.vesselsf.com

 

FORWARD 10TH ANNIVERSARY

Another 10-year banger — this one for adorably talented Adnan Sharif’s Forward tech-house collective, bringing in an absolutely bonkers lineup to move us into the next. Deep and wiggy Clockwork from Milan co-headlines with Seattle smart-techno fave Pezzner, plus Nikola Baytala, the No Way Back crew, and a Silent Disco space out side with Star Kommand and more.

Fri/30, 10pm-5am, $10-20. Mighty, 119 Utah, SF. www.forwardsf.com

 

LEXINGTON 15TH ANNIVERSARY

Time flies when you’re a flaming hot lesbian! Can it be 15 years already since the proudly dive-y Lex threw open its doors to the gorgeously rough-and-tumble dykes of the Mission and their humble admirers (like yours truly)? Oh hell yes. Congratulate owner Lila and crew on keeping one of the few lesbars in homocity open, with filthy music, smokin’ go-gos, kinky quinceanera shenanigans, and lipstick-obliterating drink specials.

Sat/31, 9pm, free. Lexington Club, 3464 19th St., SF. www.lexingtonclub.com

Our Weekly Picks: March 28-April 3

Andrew Lam
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WEDNESDAY 28

“How to Drink Like a Locavore” Rents in the Mission and Noe Valley rose 10 percent in the last six months? Sea changes are afoot in this city (as always). But let’s make lemonade with the lemons of increasing preciousness — the monied have certainly provided a market for the Bay’s burgeoning local liquor scene. Community service for having snapped up the rental market? Today, for $25 anyone can sample pours from more than six distilleries in the tony climes of the Commonwealth Club — the ambrosial offerings of St. George’s Spirits, Anchor, and Distillery No. 209 included. Oh, and there’ll be an expert panel of hoochmakers to educate on what you’re sipping. Ask them if they need a roommate. (Caitlin Donohue)

6:30 p.m., $7–<\d>$25

595 Market, SF

(415) 597-6700

www.commonwealthclub.org

 

Sea of Bees

To call Julie Baenziger’s brand of sweet, haunting, exasperated vocals unique is an understatement. The Sea of Bees leader hails from California’s Central Valley and creates dreamy, blissful folk rock with a small group of co-conspirators. Sea of Bees’ debut album, Songs for the Ravens (2010), received critical acclaim and carries a fair bit of angst (with subtlety, mind you). Its forthcoming LP, Orangefarben, out this spring, includes “Gnomes,” a dynamic, surreal track released last summer on EP. Baenziger’s songs focus on love, sadness, hope, and intimacy, and her soulful style and live candor will draw you in.(Mia Sullivan)

With Radiation City, the Loom

8 p.m., $10

Rickshaw Stop

155 Fell, SF

(415) 861-2011

www.rickshawstop.com


THURSDAY 29

The Ferocious Few

Oh the Ferocious Few, how do we love thee, let me count the ways. That with just a guitar and drum kit you are nonetheless able to create a rock’n’roll ruckus any five-piece combo would be lucky to emulate (one). That Francisco Fernandez’s vocals, a honeyed firewater blaze, haunt every BART-station-street-corner-park-bench you’ve ever played (two). That every lyric you’ve penned about love lost slices right through the heart and straight for the jugular (three).That despite the massive setback of getting your gear stolen (since recovered), you still made it to SXSW with aplomb to spare (four). That you’re headlining a gig, indoors for a change, just before we went into major FF withdrawal (five). There are more reasons, but we’re out of word count. Just go. (Nicole Gluckstern)

With Zodiac Death Valley, B. Hamilton

8 p.m., $14

Great American Music Hall

859 O’Farrell, SF

(415) 885-0750

www.slimspresents.com

 

FRIDAY 30

“Dance Anywhere”

The world is in the toilet, and at times it feels like a giant cosmic hand is just about to flush us all. But a glimmer of hope for humanity lurks amid events like “Dance Anywhere,” which advises even the two-left-footed among us to pause and bust a joyful move in as part of a coordinated, global public art movement. Check the event’s website to line up your time zone (in San Francisco, it’s noon), and limber up for your solo macarena — or find your way to a free professional performance. Bay Area participants include Anne Bluethenthal Dance (at SFMOMA), Raisa Simpson and Push Dance Co. (at the Oakland Museum of California), and Alyce Finwall Dance Theatre (on 343 Sansome’s rooftop deck). In the words of Footloose: dance your ass off! (Eddy)

Noon, free

Various locations

www.danceanywhere.org

 

Kevin Brownlow

“The visual resources of the cinema have never been stretched further than in Napoléon vu par Abel Gance.” — that’s what Academy-honored film historian Kevin Brownlow had to say about the 1927 epic in his silent film tome The Parade’s Gone By… Now, his decades of restoration work on the film are culminating with screenings at the Paramount Theater in Oakland (the remaining two are Sat/31 and Sun/1; visit www.silentfilm.org for info). Brownlow will appear at UC Berkeley’s Pacific Film Archive to present “Abel Gance’s Napoléon, A Restoration Project Spanning a Lifetime,” a discussion of his work, sure to be an invaluable companion to the movie itself, which will feature scenes from the film and live piano accompaniment from Judith Rosenberg. (Sam Stander)

Book signing and reception, 5:30 p.m.; on Napoleon, 7:00 p.m., $5.50–<\d>$9.50

Pacific Film Archive

2575 Bancroft Way, Berk.

(510) 642-1412

bampfa.berkeley.edu

 

“Computer Face: A Show by Kirk Read”

Make way Wolf Blitzer, writer-performer-instigator Kirk Read, following the campaign trail as a sex worker like Mother Courage hauling her wares after the armies of Europe, offers his own take on the Republican primaries — among so much else — in his latest performance piece, now up through this weekend at the Garage. Read’s theater work is often grouped, not unreasonably, under performance art, queer cabaret, and such, but he has a quality that feels sui generis and shouldn’t be missed. Exuding a charming combination of practical, everyday groundedness and unmoored fancy, Read is a pure artist, and Rick Santorum’s hot wet nightmare. (Robert Avila)

Through Sat/31, $10–$20

Garage

975 Howard, SF

(415) 518-1517

www.975howard.com

 

Galactic

For those who aren’t really into jam, think of Galactic as an incarnate of Phish with brass instead of wah; but really, if you have a soul and like fun, you should probably acquaint yourself with Galactic, as it represents jazz-funk jam at its finest. The group’s live shows have been known to induce expressive dance as well as impressive marijuana intake. The pulsing and ecstatic Carnivale Electricos, which came out this past Mardi Gras, is an ode to carnivale in New Orleans (the band’s home city) and Brazil, where people take the responsibility of engaging in lustful debauchery on this crazy night quite seriously. (Sullivan)

With Soul Rebels Brass Band, Corey Henry

Fri/30-Sat/31, 9 p.m., $41.50

Fillmore

1805 Geary, SF

(415) 346-6000

www.thefillmore.com

 

Filastine

Could there be anything more emblematic of the “global economy” — its giddy consumerism, its nomadic promise, its horrid displacement — than the lowly shopping cart? Audio-visual percussionist Filastine makes the shopping cart central to his transnational electro bass music project, zinging, plucking, and kicking its ribs to turn a metaphor into a dance party of resistance. His amazing latest video, “Colony Collapse,” was filmed at several sites of ecological disaster, pairing with the sites’ residents to make a fractured song of despair and hope. His live stage show, this appearance opening for Bay Area electro-jazz-hop collective Beats Antique, couples virtuoso live drumming and electronic grooves with a visual spectacle that holds crowds spellbound, a neat complement to the mobile dance parties and sonic activism he’s renowned for leading, from Tokyo to Barcelona. (Marke B.)

With Beats Antique, the Loyd Family Players

8 p.m., $25

Fox Theater

1807 Telegraph, Oakl.

(510) 548-3010

www.thefoxoakland.com


SATURDAY 31

Pilot 60

ODC’s Pilot Program is giving young choreographers a leg up, so to speak. Having an idea about making a dance is easy. Shaping it so that it makes sense to the choreographer as well as to an audience is tough. Being in the same boat with others, however, helps. Just ask the dozens of choreographers who over the years (this is Pilot’s 60th incarnation) have gone through this well structured, proven way to nudge budding professionals to the spotlight. Alison Williams, Samantha Giron, Milissa Payne Bradley, David Schleiffers, Lisa Fagan and Claudia Anata Hubiak will be presenting works this time around. (Rita Felciano)

Sat/31-Sun/1, 8 p.m., $12

ODC Dance Commons, Studio B

351 Shotwell, SF

(415) 863-9834

www.odctheater.org


SUNDAY 1

“Memorabilia from the Ira and Leonore Gershwin Trust”

Know your Gershwins: Ira was the older brother (born 1896), but he outlived George (born 1898) by nearly 50 years. Together, they were a songwriting dream team ruling Broadway and American popular song — but even after George’s death, Ira continued writing lyrics for the stage and screen. He died in 1983; his widow, Leonore, died in 1991 after devoting her later years to preserving the legacy of the talented brothers. Fans won’t want to miss the exhibition of items from the Ira and Leonore Gershwin Trust (sheet music, concert posters, family photos, awards), as well as related events, including a talk by Ira’s nephew Mike Strunsky (Mon/2) and performances of The Man That Got Away: Ira After George (April 13-15). (Eddy)

Through June 15

Gallery hours Mon.-Thurs., 7 a.m.-10 p.m.; Fri.-Sun., 7 a.m.-8 p.m., free

Jewish Community Center of San Francisco

Katz Snyder Gallery

3200 California, SF

www.jccsf.org

 

“April Fools With Miss Coco Peru”

Tempting as it might be to play a trick on some poor fool today, firing the opening shot in a prank war is risky — payback is, after all, a notorious bitch. Instead of getting your April Fool’s Day guffaws at the expense at someone else, why not show your appreciation for a razor-sharp and unfailingly glamorous comedian? Miss Coco Peru, star of screens big (1999’s Trick) and small (“Wee Britain”-era Arrested Development) — and, of course, of stage (Ugly Coco) — performs her latest, There Comes a Time, a no-holds-barred monologue reflecting on her colorful life in the spotlight. Earlier in the day, Miss Peru will be on hand for a short Q&A after a screening of 2003’s Girls Will Be Girls, a campy cult comedy (tantalizingly described as “every novel Jacqueline Susann’s ever written”) with a sequel due out this year. (Eddy)

Screening, noon, $10

Performance, 7 and 9:30 p.m., $29.95

Victoria Theatre

2961 16th St., SF

(415) 863-0611

www.ticketfly.com

 

Chain & the Gang

You’re either with Ian Svenonius or you’re against him. The shamanic leader of Nation of Ulysses, Make-Up, and Weird War (all quality on their own, according to me) inspires fervor, mirrored weirdness, and the occasional eye-roll (hey, I’ve seen it). His most recent project Chain & the Gang (touring now in support new LP, In Cool Blood ) doesn’t get any less quirked, so if you’re not in line with Svenonius, you won’t find it as thrilling as the rest of us. With a muffled scream here, a tambourine shake there, and a buzzing chainsaw guitar slicing through it all, Chain & the Gang is a testament to Svenonius’s continuity, and his ongoing ability to scrap genres, culling the best bits of the past — Southern blues, working man shuffles, post-punk, and mod — for his own future perfect. (Emily Savage)

With Neonates, the Smell

9 p.m., $9–$12

Brick and Mortar Music Hall

1710 Mission, SF

(415) 800-8782

www.brickandmortarmusic.com


TUESDAY 3

Field Report

Chris Porterfield used to be a member of the now-defunct Wisconsin-based act DeYarmond Edison with Justin Vernon (Bon Iver) and the men of Megafaun (Brad Cook, Phil Cook, Joe Westerlund). He also made music under the Conrad Plymouth moniker for a while but recently debuted his new project, Field Report, at SXSW — a lush and poetic picture of longing, nostalgia, and hope. The retrospection and emotionality wrapped into Porterfield’s folksy, bluesy Americana is easily relatable and will make you want to melt into his world. Field Report’s debut album, which was recorded in Vernon’s studio and produced by Paul Koderie, is due out in July. (Sullivan)

With Megafaun

9 p.m., $12

Cafe Du Nord

2170 Market, SF

(415) 861-5016

www.cafedunord.com

 

The Guardian listings deadline is two weeks prior to our Wednesday publication date. To submit an item for consideration, please include the title of the event, a brief description of the event, date and time, venue name, street address (listing cross streets only isn’t sufficient), city, telephone number readers can call for more information, telephone number for media, and admission costs. Send information to Listings, the Guardian Building, 135 Mississippi St., SF, CA 94107; fax to (415) 487-2506; or e-mail (paste press release into e-mail body — no text attachments, please) to listings@sfbg.com. Digital photos may be submitted in jpeg format; the image must be at least 240 dpi and four inches by six inches in size. We regret we cannot accept listings over the phone.

Stage Listings

Andrew Lam
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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. For further information on how to submit items for the listings, see Picks.

THEATER

OPENING

Any Given Day Magic Theatre, Fort Mason Center, Marina at Laguna, SF; www.magictheatre.org. $20-60. Previews Thurs/29-Sat/31 and April 4-7, 8pm (also April 7, 2:30pm); Sun/1 and April 8, 2:30pm; Tues/3 and April 10, 7pm. Opens April 11, 8pm. Runs Wed-Sat, 8pm (also April 21, 2:30pm); Sun, 2:30pm; Tues, 7pm. Through April 22. Magic Theatre performs Linda McLean’s Glasgow-set play about modern, urban life.

Maple and Vine American Conservatory Theater, 415 Geary, SF; (415) 749-2228, www.act-sf.org. $10-95. Previews Thurs/29-Sat/31 and Tues/3, 8pm (also Sat/31, 2pm). Opens April 4, 8pm. Runs Tues-Sat, 8pm (April 10, show at 7pm); Wed and Sat-Sun, 2pm (no matinees Sun/1 or April 4); April 15, show at 7pm). Through April 22. ACT performs the West Coast premiere of Jordan Harrison’s play about a 21st century couple drawn into a community of people who live as if it’s the 1950s.

ONGOING

*The Aliens SF Playhouse, 533 Sutter, SF; (415) 677-9596, www.sfplayhouse.org. $20-70. Tues-Thurs, 7pm; Fri-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 3pm. Through May 5. On the heels of Aurora Theatre’s production of Body Awareness, SF Playhouse introduces local audiences to another of contemporary American playwright Annie Baker’s acclaimed plays, in a finely tailored West Coast premiere directed by Lila Neugebauer. The Aliens unfolds in the days just around July 4, at slacker pace, in the backyard of a Vermont café (lovingly realized to palpable perfection by scenic designer Bill English), daily haunt of scruffy, post-Beat dropouts and sometime band mates Jasper (a secretly brooding but determined Peter O’Connor) and KJ (a charmingly ingenuous yet mischievous Haynes Thigpen). New employee and high school student Evan (a winningly eager and reticent Brian Miskell) is at first desperate to get the interlopers out of the “staff only” backyard but is just lonely enough to be seduced into friendship and wary idolatry by the older males. What unfolds is a small, sweet and unexpected tale of connection and influence, amid today’s alienated dream-sucking American landscape — same as it ever was, if you ask Charles Bukowski or Henry Miller, both points of reference to Jasper and KJ, who borrow Bukowski’s poem The Aliens for one of their many band names. An appropriate name for the alienated, sure, but part of the charm of these characters is just how easy they are to recognize, or how much we can recognize ourselves in them. Delusions of grandeur reside in every coffee house across this wistful, restless land. It’s not just Jasper and KJ who may be going nowhere. A final gesture to the young and awkward but clearly capable Evan suggests, a little ambiguously to be sure, that there’s promise out there yet for some. But more than that: the transaction makes clear by then that there are no fuck-ups, really; not among people with generous and open hearts — never mind how fucked up the country at large. (Avila)

A Bright Room Called Day Gough Street Playhouse, 1620 Gough, SF; www.custommade.org. $25-32. Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 7pm. Through April 8. Custom Made Theatre performs Tony Kushner’s drama set in Berlin just before the Nazi takeover.

“Celebration of Women’s History Month:” The Right Thing Thick House, 1695 18th St, SF; www.3girlstheatre.org. $30. Fri/30-Sat/31, 8pm; Sun/1, 4pm. Over one long day of legal mediation, aggrieved former CEO Zell Gardner (a brash but vulnerable Catherine Castellanos) and attorney Manny Diamond (a sharp, loquacious Louis Parnell) square off against Zell’s former Big Pharma pals headed up by vindictive interim CEO David Heller (a coolly cutting Lol Levy) flanked by Zell’s longtime colleague Chris McKnight (a nicely down-to-earth John Flanagan). Zell’s lawyer becomes increasingly ambivalent, however, as Manny discovers his tough, brassy mess of a pill-popping client has been less than forthcoming about the charge of sexual harassment the other side is using to justify her dismissal and the company’s pocketing of the three million Zell expected as compensation — a charge involving Zell’s 19-year-old goddaughter, Sam (Karina Wolfe). Attempting to reconcile the parties and broker a deal is retired judge Leigh Mansfield (Helen Shumaker), but she has her work cut out for her with this crowd. AJ Baker’s new drama — the inaugural production of newcomers 3Girls Theatre — take issues of sexual politics and power in its high-powered setting and cracks them against the everyday familial and social dynamics that are perhaps a casualty of the corporate ethos, but without opening them up to a satisfactory degree. Director Suze M. Allen assembles a generally strong cast (Castellanos is riveting throughout), and some scenes smolder with just the right teeth-baring tension, but pacing is inconsistent and the script’s own wayward drift — together with an odd, unnecessary video backdrop—distract from the concentrated treatment the story demands. (Avila)

Certitude and Joy Bindlestiff Studio, 185 Sixth St, SF; www.brownpapertickets.com. $25-35. Thurs/29-Sun/1, 8pm. In his latest chamber opera, composer Erling Wold (Queer, Mordake) uses his own memories of growing up in an evangelical household, and the harrowing incident in 2005 in which an Oakland mother (played by Talya Patrick) murdered her three children and threw them into the Bay on orders from God, to explore the dark attraction of religious certainty. Surprisingly, while this seems to be among Wold’s most personal works (he even participates intermittently as a character), it is one of his less inspired musically. The score for voices and two pianos (delivered with clarity and finesse by soprano Laura Bohn, baritone Jo Vincent Parks, and pianists Keisuke Nakagoshi and Eva-Marie Zimmerman) is often lovely, but it rarely achieves either the transcendence or dissonance seemingly called for by the libretto. And while the performers (directed by Jim Cave and including actor Robert Ernst and dancers Kerry Mehling and Travis Rowland) deliver the story charmingly, something is lost in the move away from a single narrator. The multiplying of voices may make thematic sense — schizophrenia, religious inspiration, a doubling of stories, and a kind of communal complicity all being operative — but the text is finally divvied up between too many performers and styles of delivery to feel cohesive or even, at times, coherent. Perhaps equally problematic is the overture, which gives away so much that there is little tension or suspense in the story that follows, let alone revelation. (Avila)

*Fool For Love Boxcar Studios, 125A Hyde, SF; www.boxcartheatre.org. $25. Showtimes vary. Through April 14. Another installment of Boxcar Theatre’s epic Sam Shepard repertory project, Fool for Love inaugurates their newest performance space within their Hyde Street Studios location. A depressingly realistic reproduction of a claustrophobic motel room, the tiny jewel-box theatre provides no refuge for the actors, and certainly not for the audience, each trapped beneath the pitiless gaze of the other. And if that too-close-for-comfort intimacy doesn’t get to you, the intentionally difficult subject matter — a “typical” Shepardian foray into alcohol-fueled ranting, violence, incest, and casual cruelty — probably will. Shepard’s strength in monologue shows itself off to meaty effect from May’s (Lauren Doucette) melancholy description of her mother’s love affair with the Old Man (Jeff Garrett) to Eddie’s (Brian Trybom) candid admittance to May’s timid suitor Martin (Geoffrey Nolan) that he and May are not cousins at all but half-siblings who have “fooled around” with each other. In addition to the reliably strong performances from each of the actors, Fool features a notably clever bit of staging involving the Old Man who appears not as a specter wandering the periphery of the stage, but as a recurring figure on the black-and-white television, interrupting the flow of cheesy Westerns with his garrulous trailer park wisdom and an omnipresent Styrofoam cup filled, one suspects, with something stronger than just coffee. (Gluckstern)

*Glengarry Glen Ross Actors Theatre of San Francisco, 855 Bush, SF; (415) 345-1287, www.brownpapertickets.com. $26-40. Wed-Sat, 8pm. Extended through April 28. Actors Theatre of San Francisco and director Keith Phillips offer a sharp, spirited production of the 1984 play by David Mamet in which four real estate agents (Mark Bird, Sean Hallinan, John Krause, and Christian Phillips) jockey and scheme for advantage in their Chicago office in a landscape of insecurity and fierce competition symbolized by the selective doling out of the best leads by manager and company man John (Frank Willey). Clients (like the gullible young husband played by Randy Blair), meanwhile, are just witless marks for the machinations of the predatory salesman, no more meaningfully human than the “muppets” targeted by Greg Smith’s Goldman Sachs. If the scenic design is a little shabby, the strong cast makes that hardly an impediment to a story that feels especially timely in its sharply etched, not to say angry portrait of the ruthless and corrosive business mentality to which egos, livelihoods, and lives — not to mention the culture at large — are enthralled. (Avila)

Hot Greeks Hypnodrome Theatre, 575 10th St, SF; www.brownpapertickets.com. $30-69. Opens Thurs/29, 8pm. Runs Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through May 5. Thrillpeddlers launch a new version (new cast, songs, costumes, etc.) of the Cockettes classic by Scrumbly Koldewyn and Martin Worman.

It’s All the Rage Studio Theater, Marsh San Francisco, 1062 Valencia, SF; (415) 282-3055, www.themarsh.org. $15-50. Thurs, 8pm; Sat, 8:30pm, Sun, 7pm. Through April 15. Longtime comedian and radio host Marilyn Pittman’s solo play wrestles with the legacy of her parents’ violent deaths in a 1997 murder-suicide initiated by her father. It’s disturbing material that Pittman, a stout middle-aged woman with a gregarious and bounding personality, approaches indirectly via a good deal of humor — including recounting the first time she did her growing-up-lesbian bit before her mother in a DC comedy club. But the pain and confusion trailing her for 13 years is never far behind, whether in accounts of her own battle with anger (and the broken relationships it has left in its wake) or in ominous memories of her too complacent mother or her charming but domineering father, whose controlling behavior extended to casually announcing murderous dreams while policing the boundaries of his marriage against family interference. A fine mimic, Pittman deploys a Southern lilt in playing each parent, on a stage decorated with a hint of their Southwestern furnishings and a framed set of parental photographs. In not exactly knowing where to lay blame for, or find meaning in, such a horrifying act, the play itself mimics in subtler form the emotional tumult left behind. There’s a too brief but eerie scene in which her veteran father makes reference to a murder among fellow soldiers en route to war, but while PTSD is mentioned (including as an unwanted patrimony), the 60-minute narrative crafted by Pittman and director David Ford wisely eschews any pat explanation. If transitions are occasionally awkward and the pace a bit loose, the play leaves one with an uncomfortable sense of the darker aspects of love, mingled with vague concentric histories of trauma and dislocation in a weird, sad tale of destruction and staying power. Note: review from the show’s 2009 run at the Marsh. (Avila)

Julius Caesar Buriel Clay Theater, African American Art and Culture Complex, 762 Fulton, SF; 1-800-838-3006, www.african-americanshakes.org. $10-30. Sat/31, 8pm; Sun/1, 4pm. Ever since there have been politicians there have been political intrigues, making it completely possible to take a play written around 1599 about Roman politicians in 44 BC, and present it as a thoroughly modern coup d’état with very little alteration. In the African-American Shakespeare Company’s compact adaptation of Julius Caesar, ancient Rome becomes a modern African nation, evoked sparingly by crumbling cement, untamed foliage, camouflage uniforms, and crudely menacing machetes. The overblown syntax of Shakespearean English lends itself particularly well to the heavy West African accents utilized by the actors — most successfully by B. Chico Purdiman, as surprisingly sympathetic assassination mastermind Cassius — and the constant upheavals of public opinion and political influence could be ripped right from the headlines of certain restless regions. The small ensemble cast makes the best of their streamlined numbers to create as big a ruckus as possible during crowd scenes, but having them running around the aisles of the Buriel Clay Theater unfortunately dilutes the power of their limited mass. But excellent performances are rendered unto Caesar by Purdiman and David Moore, who plays co-conspirator Brutus, while Frederick Pitts’ Mark Anthony skillfully delivers a eulogy full of slyly self-serving political double-speak worthy of any modern tyrant-in-waiting. (Gluckstern)

*A Lie of the Mind Boxcar Playhouse, 505 Natoma, SF; www.boxcartheatre.org. $25. Showtimes vary. Through April 14. Sam Shepard’s three-act drama is streaked with humor, horror and heartbreak, all of it arising from the most mundane but also extraordinary of things, love and family. That’s Shepard territory, of course, as surely as is the rowdy backwater of the American West where much of the play unfolds. But seeing the exceptionally sharp and powerful production currently up at Boxcar Theatre under direction of Susannah Martin — in the midst of Boxcar’s mostly terrific four-play Shepard fest that includes his better known Pulitzer-winner, Buried Child (1979) — suggests 1985’s Lie may cut deeper than most. It begins in the immediate aftermath of a vicious episode of domestic abuse, from which the married couple of Beth (Megan Trout) and Jake (Joe Estlack) flies apart and back into the ambivalent arms of their mutually dysfunctional families (played wonderfully by Carolyn Doyle, Marissa Keltie, Tim Redmond, Katja Rivera, Josh Schell, and Don Wood). Trout’s brain-damaged Beth is a wrenching figure, not merely for her confusion and vulnerability but more so for the certainty and determination that make their way from her heart through the prison bars of her hampered mind. As Jake, Estlack is doing some of his finest work, convincingly incarnating a veritable beast whose roaring, roiling emotions sound the loneliest and most desolate of souls within. Martin’s intelligent staging — aided by Steve Decker’s beautifully spare wood-plank set, Lucas Krech’s moody lighting, and a choice, eerie sound design by Teddy Hulsker — adds tangible weight and texture to the play’s radiant dialogue and engrossing characters, realized by one of the finest ensemble casts all year. (Avila)

The Real Americans Marsh Studio Theater, 1062 Valencia, SF; (415) 282-3055, www.themarsh.org. $25-50. Fri, 8pm; Sat, 5pm. Extended through April 14. Dan Hoyle revives his hit solo show about small-town America.

The Rita Hayworth of this Generation Shotwell Studios, 3252-A 19th St, SF; www.brownpapertickets.com. $10-15. Fri-Sat, 8pm. Through April 7. Writer and performer Tina D’Elia performs her solo, multi-character play about a queer Latina performer inspired by the legendary Hollywood goddess.

Sam Marlowe and the Mean Streets of San Francisco Stage Werx, 446 Valencia, SF; (415) 412-3989, www.catchynametheatre.org. $20. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through April 7. Catchy Name Theatre presents a world premiere noir play by Jim Strope.

Suicide in B Flat Stagewerx, 446 Valencia, SF; suicideinbflat.blogspot.com. $15. Fri-Sat, 11pm. Through April 7. Sam Shepard is all over SF at the moment. Contributing to the four-play repertory program Boxcar Theatre has underway comes this lively if uneven production of a little seen Shepard work, a darkly comical jazz noir, by capable newcomers Do It Live, under direction of Will Hand. Suicide in B Flat (which features live musical underscoring by Grayson Converse) offers parallel stories overlapping on one stage, as two inept homicide detectives (Anthony Agresti and Hand) investigate the death of jazzman Niles, who may have been murdered or may have offed himself — or may be alive and well, since we soon meet Niles (a suitably charismatic and tentative Michael Saarela) heading out of town in a fitful, indecisive attempt at reinventing himself anew. As Niles’s band mates begin showing up for a jam session, the detectives progressively lose their own sense of identity. There’s a grim streak running through this existential who-dunnit, which sometimes comes across more like an existential what-the-fuck? But that too is a legit question in this in-between realm. (Avila)

*True West Boxcar Studios, 125A Hyde, SF; (415) 967-2227, www.boxcartheatre.org. $25. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through April 7. The first installment of Boxcar Theatre’s four-play Sam Shepard repertory project, True West ushers in the ambitious run with a bang. This tale of two brothers who gradually assume the role of the other is one of Shepard’s most enduring plays, rich with humorous interludes, veering sharply into dangerous terrain at the drop of a toaster. In time-honored, True West tradition, the lead roles of Austin, the unassuming younger brother, and Lee, his violent older sibling, are being alternated between Nick A. Olivero and Brian Trybom, and in a new twist, the role of the mother is being played by two different actresses as well (Adrienne Krug and Katya Rivera). The evening I saw it, Olivero was playing Austin, a writer banging away at his first screenplay, and Trybom was Lee, a troubled, alcoholic drifter who usurps his brother’s Hollywood shot, and trashes their mother’s home while trying to honor his as yet unwritten “contract”. The chemistry between the two actors was a perfect blend of menace and fraternity, and the extreme wreckage they make of both the set (designed by both actors), and their ever-tenuous relationship, was truly inspired. (Gluckstern)

Waiting for Godot New venue: SF Playhouse Stage Two, 533 Sutter, SF; (415) 336-3522, www.tidestheatre.org. $20-32. Thurs, 7pm; Fri-Sat, 8pm. Extended through April 14. The fuchsia papier-mâché tree and swirling grey-on-white floor pattern (courtesy of scenic designer Richard Colman) lend a psychedelic accent to the famously barren landscape inhabited by Vladimir (Keith Burkland) and Estragon (Jack Halton) in this production of the Samuel Beckett play by newcomers Tides Theatre. The best moments here broadcast the brooding beauty of the avant-garde classic, with its purposely vague but readily familiar world of viciousness, servility, trauma, want, fear, grudging compassion, and the daring, fragile humor that can look it all squarely in the eye. (Avila)

The Waiting Period MainStage, Marsh San Francisco, 1062 Valencia, SF; (415) 282-3055, www.themarsh.org. $15-50. Fri, 8pm; Sat, 5pm. Extended through April 27. Brian Copeland (comedian, TV and radio personality, and creator-performer of the long-running solo play Not a Genuine Black Man) returns to the Marsh with a new solo, this one based on more recent and messier events in Copeland’s life. The play concerns an episode of severe depression in which he considered suicide, going so far as to purchase a handgun — the title coming from the legally mandatory 10-day period between purchasing and picking up the weapon, which leaves time for reflections and circumstances that ultimately prevent Copeland from pulling the trigger. A grim subject, but Copeland (with co-developer and director David Ford) ensures there’s plenty of humor as well as frank sentiment along the way. The actor peoples the opening scene in the gun store with a comically if somewhat stereotypically rugged representative of the Second Amendment, for instance, as well as an equally familiar “doood” dude at the service counter. Afterward, we follow Copeland, a just barely coping dad, home to the house recently abandoned by his wife, and through the ordinary routines that become unbearable to the clinically depressed. Copeland also recreates interviews he’s made with other survivors of suicidal depression. Telling someone about such things is vital to preventing their worst outcomes, says Copeland, and telling his own story is meant to encourage others. It’s a worthy aim but only a fitfully engaging piece, since as drama it remains thin, standing at perhaps too respectful a distance from the convoluted torment and alienation at its center. (Avila)

BAY AREA

Cabaret Larkspur Café Theater (American Legion Hall Post 313), 500 Magnolia, Larkspur; www.brownpapertickets.com. $25-45. Fri-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 7pm (no show April 8). Through April 15. Independent Cabaret Productions and Shakespeare at Stinson move their production of the Kander and Ebb classic from Fort Mason to the North Bay.

The Coast of Utopia: Voyage Ashby Stage, 1901 Ashby, Berk; www.shotgunplayers.org. $20-30. Wed-Thurs, 7pm; Fri-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 5pm. Through April 29. Shotgun Players present Tom Stoppard’s riff on pre-revolutionary Russia.

*The Kipling Hotel: True Misadventures of the Electric Pink ’80s New venue: Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston, Berk; (415) 282-3055, www.themarsh.org. $20-50. Sat, 8:30pm; Sun, 7pm. Extended through May 6. This new autobiographical solo show by Don Reed, writer-performer of the fine and long-running East 14th, is another slice of the artist’s journey from 1970s Oakland ghetto to comedy-circuit respectability — here via a partial debate-scholarship to UCLA. The titular Los Angeles residency hotel was where Reed lived and worked for a time in the 1980s while attending university. It’s also a rich mine of memory and material for this physically protean and charismatic comic actor, who sails through two acts of often hilarious, sometimes touching vignettes loosely structured around his time on the hotel’s young wait staff, which catered to the needs of elderly patrons who might need conversation as much as breakfast. On opening night, the episodic narrative seemed to pass through several endings before settling on one whose tidy moral was delivered with too heavy a hand, but if the piece runs a little long, it’s only the last 20 minutes that noticeably meanders. And even with some awkward bumps along the way, it’s never a dull thing watching Reed work. (Avila)

Now Circa Then Lucie Stern Theatre, 1305 Middlefield, Palo Alto; (650) 463-1960, www.theatreworks.org. $19-69. Wed/28, 7:30pm; Thurs/29-Sat/31, 8pm (also Sat/31, 2pm); Sun/1, 2 and 7pm. TheatreWorks performs Carly Mensch’s comedy about a romance that blooms between two historical re-enactors.

The Pirates of Penzance Julia Morgan Center for the Arts, 2640 College, Berk; (510) 845-8542, www.juliamorgan.org. $17-35. Fri/30-Sat/31, 7pm (also Sat/31, 2pm); Sun/1, noon and 5pm. Berkeley Playhouse performs the Gilbert and Sullivan classic, with the setting shifted to a futuristic city.

Red Berkeley Repertory Theatre, Thrust Stage, 2025 Addison, Berk; (510) 647-2949, www.berkeleyrep.org. $14.50-83. Tues and Thurs-Fri, 8pm (also Thurs/29 and April 26, 2pm; no show April 27); Wed, 7pm; Sat-Sun, 2pm (also Sat, 8pm; Sun, 7pm; no matinee Sat/31). Through April 29. Berkeley Rep performs John Logan’s Tony Award-winning play about artist Mark Rothko.

Titus Andronicus La Val’s Subterranean, 1834 Euclid, Berk; www.impacttheatre.com. $10-20. Thurs/29-Sat/31, 8pm. Impact Theatre takes on the Bard’s bloodiest tragedy.

The World’s Funniest Bubble Show Marsh Berkeley, TheaterStage, 2120 Allston, Berk; (415) 826-5750, www.themarsh.org. $8-50. Extended run: Sun/1, 11am. Also May 5-27 (Sat-Sun, 11am); June 3-July 15 (Sun, 11am). Louis “The Amazing Bubble Man” Pearl returns with this kid-friendly, bubble-tastic comedy.

PERFORMANCE/DANCE

“April Fools With Miss Coco Peru: There Comes a Time” Victoria Theater, 2961 16th St, SF; www.ticketfly.com. Sun/1, 7 and 9:30pm. $29.95. (Screening of Girls Will Be Girls, Sun/1, noon, $10). Acclaimed storyteller-monologist Clinton Leupp, a.k.a. Miss Coco Peru, performs his latest solo show, which he describes as “a night of pure fun with Coco.”

“Club Chuckles” Hemlock Tavern, 1131 Polk, SF; www.hemlocktavern.com. Sun/1, 7:30pm. $6. April Fool’s Day comedy with Alex Koll, the exotic magic of Stallion!, and the Ultra Mega Virgins comedy tour.

“The Collection” Exit Stage Left, 156 Eddy, SF; www.brownpapertickets.com. Sun/1 and April 8, 7pm; April 2-7 and 9-13, 8pm. $20-50. Theatrical magician Christian Cagigal debuts his brand-new, top-secret show.

“Computer Face” Garage, 975 Howard, SF; www.brownpapertickets.com. Fri/30-Sat/31, 8pm. $10-20. Kirk Read (How I Learned to Snap) performs his latest solo show.

“Dance Anywhere” Various locations; www.danceanywhere.org. Fri/30, noon. Free. Join the global movement of folks who participate in this annual, public performance piece.

“Elect to Laugh” Studio Theater, Marsh San Francisco, 1062 Valencia, SF; (415) 282-3055, www.themarsh.org. Tues, 8pm. Ongoing through Nov 6. $15-50. Will Durst and friends perform in this weekly political humor show that focuses on the upcoming presidential election.

Jess Curtis/Gravity CounterPULSE, 1310 Mission, SF; www.counterpulse.org. Thurs/29-Sun/1, 8pm. $15-20. Gravity’s performance series, Intercontinental Collaborations, presents Jess Meets Angus, a co-production with Silke Z./resistance created and performed by Jess Curtis and Angus Balbernie.

“Octopus’s Garden” Alcove Theater, 414 Mason, Fifth Flr, SF; www.thealcovetheater.com. Sat, 8pm. Through April 7. $25-35. PianoFight performs Scott Herman’s modern-family drama.

“Pilot 60” ODC Dance Commons, Studio B, 351 Shotwell, SF; www.brownpapertickets.com. Sat/31, 8pm; Sun/1, 7pm. $12. ODC’s 60th (!) Pilot production showcases innovative contemporary work by emerging dance artists.

“The Return of the MF David Deery Show” Jon Good Annex, 401 Alabama, SF; artschoolvets.com/motherfuckindaviddeery. Sat/31, 9pm. $5. David Deery performs music and stand-up.

“The Romaine Event Comedy Show” Make-Out Room, 3225 22nd St, SF; www.pacoromane.com. Wed/28, 7:30pm. $10. Paco Romane’s seventh-anniversary show features headliner Joe Klocek plus other Bay Area comedians, including Joe Tobin, Kaseem Bentley, and more.

“The Secret History of Love” Dance Mission Theater, 3316 24th St, SF; www.brownpapertickets.com. Thurs/29-Sun/1, 8pm (also Sat/31-Sun/1, 4pm). $10-25. Sean Dorsey Dance performs a world premiere performance based on Dorsey’s archival research and interviews with LGBT elders.

“Talks of the Vagina” Women’s Building, 3543 18th St, SF; www.brownpapertickets.com. Fri/30, 7. $20. Proceeds from Yoni Ki Baat’s Vagina Monologues-inspired performance benefit the Women’s Building mural restoration project.

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