sex

Lisa Cholodenko on “The Kids Are All Right”

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Writer-director Lisa Cholodenko earned attention with critically acclaimed features like High Art (1998) and Laurel Canyon (2002). Her latest movie, The Kids Are All Right, is a “personal film” about a lesbian couple raising teenagers. I spoke to Cholodenko about queer politics, explicit content, and keeping things lighthearted.

San Francisco Bay Guardian: Recently, there was a lot of controversy surrounding a Newsweek article, in which the author wrote about the difficulty of queer actors playing straight roles. I was wondering about your take on that, and on the opposite — straight actors playing queer roles. Is that something you even considered when casting?
 
Lisa Cholodenko: I’ll be honest, I was just told about this article and I didn’t read it. You know, I think it’s kind of weird thing to even discuss in a way, to me. Chiefly because I think actors’ personal lives — I just think people should have a private life, not that they should be in the closet, but that there should be a separation between professional life and personal life. And if a director feels like so-and-so, whether they’re gay or straight, would be good for a role, give them the role. What does it matter? As it turns out, I think gay people have more of an affect, whether they’re lesbians or gay men, that’s harder to camouflage in straight roles. Why that is, I mean, you could talk about that. I think it’s easier to go the other way. That’s just what it is. I say that without a value judgment. It is what it is.

SFBG: The Kids Are All Right has a same-sex relationship, of course, but it also has a fair amount of graphic sex and even a snippet of hardcore gay porn. Do you think it will shock a mainstream audience? Are they ready for it, and does that matter?

LC: I think it’s shocking in a sense that it’s portrayed in such a real way, that it’s not super arch, or it’s not like The L Word. This stuff has been on TV and in films. In a way, I’m not inventing the wheel at all. But I think the package that it’s coming in is going to be disarming to people. I think we tried and I think we were somewhat successful in making it so that you don’t realize exactly what you’re watching, the subversiveness of what you’re seeing. You can settle into watching it without that kind of discomfort of being super aware of, “This is something I’m not. I’m other and this is not my thing.” I think we figured out a way for people to enter it, and that was really important for us.

SFBG: I ask because I do feel like this shouldn’t be a big deal, that people should be able to handle it. And yet, the night before I saw your movie, I saw Sex and the City 2, in which there was a gay wedding. And as soon as the two men kissed, the camera cut away. There’s a lot of intimacy between Nic and Jules in the movie, so I was wondering particularly about that. Are people outside of San Francisco going to be apprehensive?

LC: Yeah. You know, I think we didn’t really know. I think we tried to write it and I tried to direct it in a way that the humor would be disarming enough, and the images themselves, if you really deconstruct it, would be tame enough. So it was more the suggestion of it. That would be the kind of twist. The people in the know would get it more than the people that were not in the know, maybe. I think we hoped that it would have a mainstream appeal to it, and that we could get beyond the people who would be apprehensive. There were questions about the gay porn and about how much sexuality we were showing, but we felt like, this is the fun of the film. It’s not going to be Spider-man 12 or something. It’s not going to be a multiplex film. But we hope it’s not going to be super rarefied art house film. So in terms of the Sex and the City thing, I think that they’re looking to go as wide as humanly possible, to every grandmother to every neck of whatever, so you can only take it so far.

SFBG: I want to touch on the humor that you mentioned, because I think it’s one of the movie’s real strong points. It’s so funny. What was your approach when you were co-writing to keeping the drama of the story but still making it fun?

LC: It was like a process, it was a real evolution. We had sort of a plot, a conceit for how the plot comes together, which was this thing about the kind of doofus friend wanting to watch the DVDs, and finding the porn, and blah, blah, blah, blah. So that all was funny, and then the kind of awkward conversation about trying to tiptoe around trying to figure out if their kid was gay, and that they would even care that the kid is gay, and how ironic that two gay moms are going to care that there kid is gay. And all that stuff. So it made us laugh, but there was a lot of other stuff in there that we took a lot more seriously and played a lot more seriously. I think as we went deeper into the drafts and moved along in the evolution of getting the film done, I really, really, really pushed for us to take whatever was potentially funny in there and just kick it up a notch. Stuart [Blumberg, who co-wrote the film] is a really funny guy — we have a similar sensibility. The same kind of stuff makes us laugh. So we knew if we were sitting there writing it and laughing, it was good. We had kind of gotten there.

SFBG: I think a lot of the humor comes from the fact that the film is so real and grounded. You have Laser, a 15-year-old boy, who talks like a 15-year-old boy, and that’s something we don’t always see in movies. And so it’s not stereotypical or preachy—it feels more organic than that.

LC: Yeah, we were really passionate about making it not politically correct and not sanctimonious and not super earnest and just hoping that there would be heart in it, simply because these were sympathetic and three-dimensional characters in a difficult situation.

SFBG: I wanted to ask about the character of Nic [played by Annette Bening], who could have been played very typically butch, because she has a masculine name and short hair and these traditionally “male” qualities. In terms of the writing and the directing, how did you make sure there was more complexity there?

LC: You know, I think that wasn’t super overdetermined. It’s really just kind of my worldview. I don’t live in a world where people are super stratified. I don’t feel like my partner and I are super — I kind of see the butch and femme in every lesbian I know. I know that there are lesbians who really kind of identify with that, and that’s there thing in the world, and that’s good. But it’s a personal film, so it’s written from my worldview. So there’s that, and then there’s also, you get Annette Bening and you get Julianne Moore, and they come with their own essence and personality. Julianne Moore has some butch in her and Annette Bening has some femme in her. They are who they are.

SFBG: There’s a great conversation early on in the film about the spectrum of sexuality and how it’s not so easily defined, which ties into Jules sleeping with a man. Were you concerned about an audience’s reaction to a lesbian having sex with a straight guy?

LC: I mean, it was a concern for me, but I felt like, you know what, oh well. I might be nailing the coffin. It might just be a bad choice. But in essence, the whole plot of the film revolves around that, so it was either, ditch the film or run with it and try to make it feel earned and interesting and viable and what not. In the early drafts I would show people — and when I started getting feedback in the early drafts, and “This is good,” I stopped being so uptight about that and just let myself kind of take it to the next place.

SFBG: It wasn’t an issue for me, but I think for a lot of people, they expect more rigid definitions. We don’t see a lot of queer characters on screen, and so when we do, many want them to be perfect: the queer voice, the lesbian, the gay man. And when they step outside those boundaries, suddenly it becomes an issue, politically.

LC: The calculated thing was that, I thought, a) I identify with this. This is something that I feel like, that makes sense to me. That makes sense to people I know. That makes sense to whatever. So it didn’t feel like some weird kind of conceit that I came up with that was like, that never happens. All lesbians are rigidly this and don’t go over that boundary. Because we know that’s not true. So there was that, and then I thought, I like this set-up and I like this plot, and also I feel like, it’s kind of an interesting intermingling of straight and gay. I felt like, if I really want this to be a mainstream film, that’s good. This is really inclusive of gay and straight, and I like that. I like that personally and I like that for this film. I was much more interested in reaching out to the male population than I was concerned about alienating a sector of the lesbian population.

SFBG: I wanted to talk about the title, The Kids Are All Right, and that focus on the children. How did the title come about? How do you feel about the role the kids play, and why is that central to the film?

LC: The film is about, you know, these women and their experience making a family. The family. The man who comes in and wants to be part of the family. Really when you’re talking about the family, it’s about the life of the kids. So it’s sort of an ironic title, in the sense that the kids are kind of doing better than the moms, in a way. And it’s also a kind of a wink to the notion that gay people can’t raise healthy, psychologically healthy children. Like, the kids are fine. Don’t worry about them. They’re just right.

SFBG: You talked a bit about what Annette Bening and Julianne Moore brought to the film, but I was wondering if you could elaborate on casting.

LC: Julianne was someone I had probably 10 years ago, just at some function somewhere. We had spoken about wanting to work together at some point. She was a fan of the first film that I made, High Art, and I was always a fan of hers, particularly in Boogie Nights (1997). So when Stuart and I wrote this, we asked ourselves several times, could Julianne play this part or that part? We were sort of on the fence. We thought she could play either part. So I sent it to her and I said, “Which part would you like to play?” And she picked Jules. Which, we weren’t surprised. We knew she’d want to play that part, but I thought I’d offer her the other one if she wanted it. And that was great.

Then finding her counterpart, the Nic character, was more difficult. It was kind of vexing. I just didn’t know what actor in that age group who had great acting chops, who was funny and dramatic and sexy, could be a good match for her. But when I stumbled on the idea of Annette Bening, I kind of got rabid about it. OK, this is it, this is the only person who can do it. So come hell or high water, she’s gonna do it.

SFBG: And then in terms of the younger actors — you don’t always see teenagers who actually look like teenagers.

LC: Well, they’re pretty close to the ages they’re supposed to play. Mia [Wasikowska] was like 19 at the time, and Josh [Hutcherson] was maybe 16, going on 17. So they were pretty close. Mia was someone that I had seen on an HBO series called In Treatment and thought she was interesting. I liked that she was Australian, not a typical American young actor, from LA or New York and wouldn’t have that baggage or affect that you might find in a lot of young actors from here. And he — I didn’t know his work, but I knew that he had done a lot of work. I was told he was an up-and-coming actor, so I was open to meeting him as well as other people, but when he came in and did the scene, it was just one of those things where you go like, “Oh, yeah.” I thought maybe Laser would be more of a Paul Dano-type kid, a little bit more twee, but when I saw him, I thought, oh, that’s good. He should be more boyish and more kind of robust, and just like a dude. I like that.

SFBG: There’s a lot of subtlety in The Kids Are All Right. I liked Nic’s drinking, which was fairly underplayed but came up several times. What was the thought process behind that? Does she have a drinking problem, or is that just the manifestation of the turmoil going on in her family?

LC: I think we felt like, oh, you know what? She’s kind of borderline. She’s a little bit of a lush. She’s kind of leaning on the wine too much, and this has become a thing and the other partner is now noticing. She’s drinking too much and she’s a stress case and she’s not dealing with it very well. She doesn’t have a good off valve. I think we tried to design it in a way that it felt like, this is something that’s coming to a head in their relationship. One partner’s seeing a behavior that’s making her concerned and the other one doesn’t want to deal with it yet, and she’s boozing it up.

SFBG: It’s also interesting because it’s easy to label Nic the control freak. But here’s Nic, who can’t control her drinking, and Jules, the free spirit, trying to get her to keep it in line.

LC: Right, right, right. Well, I felt like everybody has their ironies and contradictions and stuff. It’s endemic, I think, in all long-term relationships.

SFBG: There was another relationship that interested me, which was the relationship between Paul [Mark Ruffalo] and Tanya [Yaya DaCosta]. I was wondering if it was significant that it was an interracial relationship. In the sense that, 40 years ago, audiences might have been shocked by an interracial relationship, but now it plays naturally — and hopefully, the same will be true of same-sex relationships. Was that intentional, or am I reading into things too much?

LC: You know, I think it wasn’t totally consciously mediated, but at a certain point when I was thinking about casting, I had Erykah Badu in my mind for that role. I felt like, who’s the kind of person who Paul would be with? It seems like he’s the kind of guy who would be running after the most exotic person. That character to me was sort of gorgeous and exotic and whatever. And then, to go from that to Jules, who is totally exotic in her own way, because she’s who she is and she’s older and she’s beautiful and she’s a lesbian. It was this kind of motif of like, what’s exotic? The Tanya character, the black character, is clearly in love with him and would be devoted to him in a heartbeat. And the white character, who’s a lesbian and completely inaccessible, is not available at all.

I guess the second part to that question is, at a certain point when we were putting this together was, it’s not only that, in terms of the psychology of the character, but I think this is good to mix it up. You know, he’s screwing this black woman, and OK, compare that to the lesbians watching gay male porn. This is what people do in life. It’s not just white people and straight people. It’s mixed up.

The Kids Are All Right opens Fri/9 in San Francisco.

alt.sex.column: Search that drug

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Dear Readers:

Ah, flibanserin, we hardly knew ye.

The U.S. Food and Drug Administration’s Reproductive Health Drugs Advisory Committee voted 10 to 1 on June 18 that flibanserin, 100 mg (Girosa; Boehringer Ingelheim), was not significantly better than placebo for hypoactive sexual desire disorder (HSDD). They also voted unanimously that the benefits did not compensate for its adverse effects. (Medscape, June 21)

Bah.

Sometime last fall my friend Yvonne and I stood in front of a Sex Information class, systematically dismissing once-promising sex-enhancing drugs. This one works for men, but not for women;. this one doesn’t work at all; this one may work but causes vomiting and loss of consciousness. And there we left it, except for — what was that new one called again — flibanserin, a.k.a. Girosa! The next great hope for women suffering from hypoactive sexual desire disorder (HSSD). “We’ll be back with an update,” we promised. “Hell, if we can get our hands on some we’ll even try it for you.”

What was new and intriguing about this one was that it purported to affect the emotions, via our old neurotransmitter friends dopamine, norepinephrine and serotonin. Now that sounded promising.

To be fair, flibanserin did not in fact completely flunk the test, it just didn’t do well enough to impress a conservative (scientifically, not necessarily politically) voting panel at the FDA.

A clinical trial of flibanserin presented last year in 1,378 premenopausal women found that after 24 weeks, the frequency of satisfying sexual events increased significantly in women taking flibanserin 100 mg, from 2.8 at baseline to 4.5 at study end, compared with placebo, which was 2.7 at baseline and increased to 3.7 at the study end. Women taking flibanserin also demonstrated improved sexual desire vs. placebo as measured by a daily electronic diary and the Female Sexual Function Index desire domain.

I have to say, 4.5 vs. 3.7 “satisfying sexual events” per month for the placebo is not chopped liver. Then again, a well-marketed, completely physiologically inactive miracle sex pill, with plenty of anecdotal bolstering and a neat-o name and a very strong suggestion from a caring physician that this was the drug that would actually work better than anything out there and without any pesky vomiting and passing out even — it’s really most inconvenient that a campaign like that would be illegal as well as unethical. Not to mention short-lived — heads would roll when word got out.

I’m bummed, personally, to be denied another chance to offer myself up to science for your amusement and edification. Oh, and also that there’s still nothing out there for the millions of women who are, for whatever reason, just not feeling it.

Personally, I think those reasons include but go so far beyond biology and chemistry, into sociology, history, and politics … I hope you brought a magazine, it’s going to be a hell of a wait.

Love,

Andrea

P.S. Viagra can totally work for some women, you know, just not on the self-reported dysfunction-sufferers studied

Email your questions to: andrea@mail.altsexcolumn.com

Riot awakening

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arts@sfbg.com

FILM On the night of June 28, 1969, police embarked on what they thought would be a routine raid on a gay bar in New York’s Greenwich Village, the sleazy, Mafia-run Stonewall Inn. The ensuing three days of rioting — during which mostly young men and drag queens accustomed to being marginalized and hauled off to jail stood their ground and fought back — became what historian Lillian Faderman has called “the shot heard round the world” for LGBT activism: a spontaneous expression of street-level outrage that fueled the birth of a movement.

Kate Davis and David Heilbroner’s solid documentary Stonewall Uprising takes a “just the facts, ma’am” approach to this historic flashpoint that makes for an information-packed, if at times dry, 80 minutes. Working around the paucity of photographic documentation of the actual riots (itself a testament to the marginalization of homosexuality in the late 1960s), Davis and Heilbroner make extensive use of period news footage and photography, reenactments, and most important, the first-person testimonies of who those who witnessed and participated in what one interviewee terms “our Rosa Parks moment.”

And what damning facts they are. Stonewall Uprising is most effective in its first half, when it vividly conveys the demonization and oppression queers regularly faced at a time when homosexuality was illegal in every state except Illinois. In one excerpted clip from a 1966 CBS investigative report that I’m sure Mike Wallace would just as soon have stricken from the record, the news anchor states matter-of-factly: “The average homosexual, if there be such, is promiscuous.” In another clip, a Florida detective sternly warns a gym full of middle school students that should any of them act on their same-sex desires, “you will be caught.”

Davis and Heilbroner’s contextual groundwork is as impressive for its archival research as it is repetitive in its message: pre-Stonewall life was hell. The documentary becomes more nuanced as it zeros in on reconstructing the first night of rioting via eyewitness accounts. Howard Smith and Lucian Truscott IV, journalists for the Village Voice whose offices were nearby, remember fearing for their lives when they found themselves barricaded inside the bar with the police. But it is former police deputy Seymour Pine who emerges as the night’s unofficial antihero, having ordered his officers to hold their fire to prevent unnecessary bloodshed. Pine’s interview — as much a mea culpa as a performance of self-assurance by an elderly man that he is on the right side of history — is Stonewall Uprising‘s true revelation. 

STONEWALL UPRISING opens Fri/9 in Bay Area theaters.

Naked fun in the sun!

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Entertainer Wavy Gravy and Pentagon Papers leaker Daniel Ellsberg like Red Rock Beach; Marin Superior Court Commissioner Roy Chernus favors Bass Lake, and Marin County Sup. Steve Kinsey says he’s been naked at Red Rock, Bolinas, Hagmier Pond, and Mount Vision Pond.

“I’ve probably hit every nude beach in Marin,” says Kinsey, who has described his visits as “exhilarating and normal.” “My last dip was at Bass Lake last fall. It has beautiful, fresh water, and the swimming environment is wonderful. I look forward to the next opportunity.”

But on their next trips to the nude section of beautiful Muir Beach, visitors may notice something new: a warning sign is being erected by the county this summer to urge users to be “respectful” of each other and to notify authorities if there’s trouble.

The sign is the result of a compromise worked out by nudists, law enforcers, county officials, and local homeowners, some of whom wanted nudity stopped. Under the agreement, cops are making a few more visits than before. But through July 1, 2010, only four complaints about nudity and one citation for improper sexual conduct have occurred since January 1, 2009, and none since August 13, 2009, according to marin county sheriff’s office crime analyst Susan Medina. “We keep responding to complaints, but I can’t recall any recent citations,” says Lt. Cheryl Fisher, commander of the Marin County Sheriff’s Office’s West Marin Station. Fisher says the subjects are usually suited up by the time deputies arrive. “A deputy showed up on a very hot Sunday,” says regular visitor Michael Velkoff of Scotts Valley. “As soon as he left, everybody was naked again.”

“Of course, guys in spiked penis rings not parading themselves around also have helped,” says Sup. Kinsey, who, for now, has spiked his previous threat to fight back by starting an effort to make Muir and other beaches clothing-optional under a 1975 law giving Marin County the power to exempt areas from its anti-nudity provisions. “Sometimes the best thing we can do in government is to stay out of the way.”

Homeowners remain wary. One, who wants to remain anonymous, tells the Guardian: “We are optimistic” about being able to “coexist” with the naturists, “but we also remain very clear about what is legal and what will and won’t be tolerated.” And a former advocate of the ban told me that instead of not going to Muir Beach “a person wanting to use the beach nude might do it in a manner that doesn’t draw a lot of attention.”

As if the Marin mashup wasn’t enough, nervous naturists also got ready to do battle with state authorities, who they feared would eventually ban nudity at Devil’s Slide in San Mateo County and at Bonny Doon Beach near Santa Cruz, both of which are state beaches.

The jitters came in the wake of an October 2009 California high court ruling allowing a crackdown on nude sunbathing on state beaches, even in areas traditionally used for such activity. “All it takes now is an individual ranger with the desire to issue a citation,” warns R. Allen Baylis, a Huntington Beach attorney representing the Naturist Action Committee, the country’s biggest nudist lobbying group. “It could have a chilling effect [on nudity] on any state beach.”

“Our thin line of security has been overturned,” says Rich Pasco, head of the Bay Area Naturists, based in San Jose. “So let’s hope that in today’s economy, the thin level of state park staff has better things to do with their time than dealing with naturists.”

At press time, the NAC, along with BAN and 14 other nudist groups, were preparing, for the first time, to officially petition California to “designate clothing-optional areas” on one or more state beaches. Other efforts have, says Baylis, been “less formal.” “Do they really expect us to pack up and leave?” Baylis asks. “We’re going to fight back. This is our freedom they’re messing with!”

What’s the good news? Just like at Muir Beach, it doesn’t look like naturists have anything to worry about for now in Northern California. “In the short term, things at Bonny Doon are destined to continue the way they are,” says Kirk Lingenfelter, sector superintendent for Bonny Doon. He wants a better trail, stairs, and parking, but says the cash-starved state doesn’t have the budget to make even a preliminary plan or increase ranger visits. He said his staff have not issued any citations or warnings at the nude cove, which he calls one of the spots that “really give you the feeling of rugged, untouched majesty. It’s a very important feeling. Going to places like Bonny Doon helps you get recharged.”

And the Devil’s Slide police source, who wants to remain anonymous, told us: “Rangers aren’t going to be pursuing enforcement against nudity per se. Nothing’s changed.” Rangers will continue responding to complaints, he explained, but it usually means they arrive too late to do anything about them because cell phones don’t work on the beach. “We hear about it after the fact,” says another Devil’s Slide enforcer, Supervising State Park Ranger Michael Grant.

Want to contribute to the glad tidings? There’s still time for plenty of fun in the sun. You can donate your body to the record books, at least temporarily, by showing up Saturday, July 10 at the Sequoians Clothes Free Club (www.sequoians.com) in Castro Valley, when its annual attempt at setting a world skinny-dipping record, with 138 other nude locations, will be held. And if you’ve ever been dying to do a little light cleaning in the nude (no window-washing needed), here’s your chance: Your butt can be bare if you stop by Bonny Doon Sept. 18 to help fans pick up cigarette butts and other litter on the beach.

Speaking of good things, would you like to help improve our report? Please send brainstorms, your new beach “finds,” improved directions (especially road milepost numbers), and trip reports to garhan@aol.com or by snail mail to Gary Hanauer, c/o San Francisco Guardian, 135 Mississippi St., San Francisco CA 94107. Please include your phone number so we can verify that you’re not just another mirage in the nude beach sand.

>>BELOW ARE CAPSULE GUIDES TO POPULAR NUDE BEACHES. CLICK HERE FOR OUR COMPLETE GUIDE, INCLUDING MANY MORE

NORTH BAKER BEACH, SAN FRANCISCO

Things are really cooking at San Francisco’s long, narrow North Baker, which is in good shape this year, with plenty of sand and an influx of young people and more women than five years ago, even though the beach is still heavily male. “If you want to see naked chicks and guys, it’s the place to go,” says aficionado Paul Jung. Although beach regulars like himself welcome all the new nude volleyball players, “some of them seem to make up rules as they go along,” he laughs. Fun activities: Look for dolphins that occasionally surface in the water off shore. And in low tide only, walk around the big rocks at the north end of the beach to check out Baker’s “secret” tide pools.

Directions: Take the 29 Sunset bus or go north on 25th Avenue to Lincoln Boulevard. Turn right and take the second left onto Bowley Street. Follow Bowley to Gibson Road, turn right, and follow Gibson to the east parking lot. Head right on the beach to the nude area, which starts at the brown and yellow “Hazardous surf, undertow, swim at your own risk” sign. Some motorcycles in the lot have been vandalized, possibly by car owners angered by bikers parking in car spaces; to avoid trouble, motorcyclists should park in the motorcycle area near the cyclone fence.

 

LAND’S END BEACH, SAN FRANCISCO

Land’s End is just the beginning: it’s not just the ground that seems to “disappear” into the sunset at this little slice of paradise off Geary Boulevard. So do your clothes, if you want to be magically transported to another dimension, away from the cares of everyday constraints. Shorts, swimsuit, even work clothes during a quick lunch break — they all can be removed at this delightful cove, which features a mix of sand and rocks plus some of San Francisco’s best views. Better still, only a handful of people are usually present. Bring a windbreak for protection in case the weather changes.

Directions: Follow Geary Boulevard to the end, then park in the dirt lot up the road from the Cliff House. Take the trail at the far end of the lot. About 100 yards past a bench and some trash cans, the path narrows and bends, then rises and falls, eventually becoming the width of a road. Don’t take the road to the right, which leads to a golf course. Just past another bench, as the trail turns right, go left toward a group of dead trees where you will see a stairway and a “Dogs must be leashed” sign. Descend and head left to another stairway, which leads to a 100-foot walk to the cove. Or, instead, take the service road below the El Camino del Mar parking lot 1/4 mile until you reach a bench, then follow the trail there.

GOLDEN GATE BRIDGE BEACH, SAN FRANCISCO

Don’t come to Golden Gate Bridge Beach, also called Nasty Boy Beach, if you want privacy: dozens to hundreds of visitors show up on the hottest days at the site that some have likened to a “gay meat market.” Along with the guys, a smattering of women, straight couples, children and fishermen are spread out on the three adjoining rocky coves that make up the beach, whose stunning views of the Bridge will make you feel like you’re the star of your own postcard. “It’s really nice to walk in the water,” says a woman. “In low tide, you can sometimes go out 150 feet.”

Directions: Directions: from the toll booth area of Highway 101/1, take Lincoln Boulevard west about a half mile to Langdon Court. Turn right (west) on Langdon and look for space in the parking lots, across Lincoln from Fort Winfield Scott. Park and then take the new, improved beach trail, starting just west of the end of Langdon, down its more than 200 steps to Golden Gate Bridge Beach, also known as Marshall’s Beach.

 

FORT FUNSTON BEACH, SAN FRANCISCO

If you try to be naked here on weekends, you’ll be barking up the wrong tree. The main creatures who go nude at Fort Funston, south of Ocean Beach, are dogs, but that hasn’t stopped a small band of stark naked sunbathers from hiding away in some sand dunes when rangers aren’t in the area. Authorities usually issue several citations a year here. But if you don’t make a fuss and visit on a weekday, you probably won’t be busted. If anyone complains, put on your beach gear right away. Two more fun activities at “Fort Fun”: watching hang-gliders take off from the cliffs and checking out a seemingly endless passing parade of people and their pets.

Directions: From San Francisco, head west to Ocean Beach, then go south on the Great Highway. After Sloat Boulevard, the road goes uphill. From there, curve right onto Skyline Boulevard, go past one stoplight, and look for signs for Funston on the right. Turn into the public lot and find a space near the west side. At the southwest end, take the sandy steps to the beach, turn right, and walk to the dunes. Find a spot as far as possible from the parking lot. Do not go nude here on the weekends. And if you don’t like dogs, go elsewhere.

 

LAS TRAMPAS REGIONAL WILDERNESS, CASTRO VALLEY

Nudity’s banned in the East Bay Regional Park District, but if you tell that to the nude hikers who will be once again walking across park land July 23 and Aug. 22 — at night — they may moon you en masse. On America’s only naked “Full Moon Hikes,” participants leave the grounds of the Sequoians Naturist Club in Castro Valley fully clothed at dusk and walk through meadows and up hills until the moon rises, before heading back down the slopes with their clothes folded neatly into their backpacks. Says Dave Smith, of San Leandro: “It’s truly wonderful. Except for deer, we’re usually the only ones on the path.” Agrees James, of Fremont: “It’s one of the best experiences I’ve ever had. You’re walking in this silvery light. The moonlight is flooding everything. You feel like you’re in the middle of a beautiful dream.”

Directions: Contact the Sequoians Naturist Club (www.sequoians.com) or the Bay Area Naturists (www.bayareanaturists.org) for details on how to join a walk. Participants usually meet at and return to the Sequoians Club. To get there, take Highway 580 east to the Crow Canyon Road exit. Or follow 580 west to the first Castro Valley off-ramp. Take Crow Canyon Road toward San Ramon 0.75 mile to Cull Canyon Road. Then follow Cull Canyon Road around 6.5 miles to the end of the paved road. Take the dirt road on the right until the “Y” in the road and keep left. Shortly after, you’ll see the Sequoians sign. Proceed ahead for about another 0.75 mile to the Sequoians front gate.

 

DEVIL’S SLIDE, MONTARA

Will they be having a devil of a time in paradise? For the first time, rangers say they’ll begin enforcing state anti-nudity regulations if offended beachgoers complain about the nudists who visit Gray Whale Cove, which is commonly called Devil’s Slide. The good news: It’s a nonissue because cell phones (used to summon rangers) don’t work on the beach, so by the time cops arrive, the offenders have long since suited up or left. And the beach’s top enforcer told us he won’t be telling rangers to bust nudists they see. Most visitors love the long sandy shore, where nudies, about 20 percent of visitors, hang out on the north end.

Directions: Driving from San Francisco, take Highway 1 south through Pacifica. Three miles south of the Denny’s restaurant in Linda Mar, turn left (inland or east) on an unmarked road, which takes you to the beach’s parking lot and to a 146-step staircase leads to the sand. “The steps are in good shape,” Ron says. Coming from the south on Highway 1, look for a road on the right (east), 1.2 miles north of the Chart House restaurant in Montara.

 

SAN GREGORIO NUDE BEACH, SAN GREGORIO

America’s oldest nude beach, near Half Moon Bay, offers two miles of soft sand and tide pools to explore, as well as a lagoon, lava tube, and, if you look closely enough on the cliffs, the remains of an old railroad line. Pets are allowed on weekdays. Up to 200 visitors may be present, but they’re usually so spread out, you may not even notice them. Gay men tend to hang out on the north side and in “sex condos” made of driftwood by visitors — a major annoyance to those who are easily offended. On the south end of the beach, there are sometimes dozens of straight couples and families, naked and clothed. For weather information, call (415) 765-7697.

Directions: Head south on Highway 1 past Half Moon Bay. Between mileposts 18 and 19, look on the right side of the road for telephone call box number SM 001 0195, at the intersection of Highway 1 and Stage Road and near an iron gate with trees on either side. From there, expect a drive of 1.1 miles to the entrance. At the Junction 84 highway sign, the beach’s driveway is just 0.1 mile away. Turn into a gravel driveway, passing through the iron gate mentioned above, which says 119429 on the gatepost. Drive past a grassy field to the parking lot, where you’ll be asked to pay an entrance fee. Take the long path from the lot to the sand; everything north of the trail’s end is clothing-optional.

 

BONNY DOON NUDE BEACH, BONNY DOON

Bonny Doon isn’t doomed. To the contrary, because the state has no plans to develop it or send rangers out to make anti-nudity patrols, it looks like it will remain Santa Cruz County’s prettiest nude beach, which should please the nudists who were on the edge of their towels wondering what would happen. Says Kirk Lingenfelter, sector superintendent for Bonny Doon and nearby state beaches: “Going to places like Bonny Doon helps you get recharged.” Naturists usually use the cove on the north end of the beach, which attracts more women and couples than most clothing-optional enclaves.

Directions: Head south on Highway 1 to the Bonny Doon parking lot at milepost 27.6 on the west side of the road, 2.4 miles north of Red, White, and Blue Beach, and some 11 miles north of Santa Cruz. From Santa Cruz, head north on Highway 1 until you see Bonny Doon Road, which veers sharply to the right just south of Davenport. The beach is right off the intersection. Park in the paved lot to the west of Highway 1; don’t park on Bonny Doon Road or the shoulder of Highway 1. If the lot is full, drive north on Highway 1, park at the next beach lot and walk back to the first lot. To get to the beach, climb the berm next to the railroad tracks adjacent to the Bonny Doon lot, cross the tracks, descend, and take the trail to the sand. Walk north past most of the beach to the cove on the north end.

 

2222, SANTA CRUZ

Size matters at 2222, which is the smallest nude beach in the U.S. — and probably smaller than your backyard. Not many people can fit into it and not many have heard about it, so not many are there, which is just fine with its mostly young crowd of local college students. Located across from 2222 West Cliff Drive, it’s a great place to sunbathe, read, relax, or even watch Neal the Juggler practice tossing balls, pins, and beanbags on the sand. But don’t attempt the very steep climb up and down the cliff unless you’re in good shape.

Directions: The beach is a few blocks west of Natural Bridges State Beach and about 2.5 miles north of the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. From either north or south of Santa Cruz, take Highway 1 to Swift Street. Drive 0.8 miles to the sea, then turn right on West Cliff Drive. 2222 is five blocks away. Past Auburn Avenue, look for 2222 West Cliff on the inland side of the street. Park in the nine-car lot next to the cliff. If it’s full, continue straight and park along Chico Avenue. Bay Area Naturists leader Rich Pasco suggests visitors use care and then follow the path on the side of the beach closest to downtown Santa Cruz and the Municipal Wharf.

 

PRIVATES BEACH, SANTA CRUZ

Privates Beach, at 4524 Opal Cliff Drive, north of the Capitola Pier, is so private that it has a locked gate, security guards, and, unless you’re too cheap to pay and want to try another option, a $100 per year fee (cash only). The two coves are exceptionally clean and you’re likely to see families, kids, and dogs on the shore.

Directions: 1) Some visitors walk north from Capitola Pier in low tide (not a good idea since at least four people have needed to be rescued after being trapped by rising water). 2) Others reach it in low tide via the stairs at the end of 41st Avenue, which lead to a surf spot called the Hook at the south end of a rocky shoreline known as Pleasure Point. 3) Surfers paddle on boards for a few minutes to Privates from Capitola or the Hook. 4) Most visitors buy a key to the beach gate at Freeline Design Surfboards (821 41st Ave., Santa Cruz, 831-476-2950) 1.5 blocks west of the beach. Others go with someone with a key or wait outside the gate until someone with a key goes in. “Most people will gladly hold the gate open for someone behind them whose hands are full,” says Bay Area Naturists leader Rich Pasco. The nude area is to the left of the bottom of the stairs.

 

MUIR NUDE BEACH, MUIR BEACH

The mellowness of marvelous Muir Beach was marred last year when some homeowners verbally clashed with nudists over use of the sand. After a few meetings, it was decided that while bare buns on the beach wouldn’t be banned, a warning sign stressing “respect” for everyone and listing a phone number for complaints will be erected, most likely in July, near the border of the nude and clothed sections of the shore. The nude spot is pretty and curved and usually has excellent swimming conditions and access. Instead of a trail, you just walk along the water from the public beach and go around and over some easy-to-cross rocks.

Directions: From San Francisco, take Highway 1 north to Muir Beach, to milepost 5.7. Turn left on Pacific Way and park in the Muir lot (to avoid tickets, don’t park on Pacific). Or park on the long street off Highway 1 across from Pacific and about 100 yards north. From the Muir lot, follow a path and boardwalk to the sand, and then walk north to a pile of rocks between the cliffs and the sea. You’ll need good hiking or walking shoes to cross; in very low tide, try to cross closer to the water. The nude area starts north of it.

 

RED ROCK BEACH, STINSON BEACH

Bay Area fan favorite Red Rock is still rocking with an improved trail, more sand than last summer, Ultimate Frisbee games that last as long as three hours, a shower where you can cool down on a hot day, and up to 75 people a day. “More rock climbers than ever are coming to the beach,” says the Rock’s “ambassador,” Fred Jaggi. “You can get more privacy there.” Three nude women who were perched on a terrace overlooking the cove in June were recently anointed as the Cheerleaders by members of the fun, highly social crowd below.

Directions: The easiest way to find the beach is to go north on Highway 1 from Mill Valley, following the signs to Stinson Beach. At the long line of mailboxes next to the Muir Beach cutoff point, start checking your odometer. Look for a dirt lot full of cars to the left (west) of the highway exactly 5.6 miles north of Muir and a smaller one on the right (east) side of the road. The lots are at milepost 11.3, one mile south of Stinson Beach. Limited parking is also available 150 yards to the south on the west side of Highway 1. Take the path to the beach that starts near the Dumpster next to the main parking lot. The trail’s doable but moderately long, steep, and slippery, so don’t wear flip-flops.

 

BASS LAKE, BOLINAS

If you’re sleepless in San Anselmo, a cure might be to bare your bottom at Bass in Bolinas. “If you want to visit an enchanted lake, Bass is it,” says Ryan, of the East Bay. “Tree branches reach over the water, forming a magical canopy, and huge bunches of calla lilies bloom on the shore.” Even walking to Bass, 45-60 minutes from the lot over 2.8 relatively easy miles, can be an adventure like none other. You may see people with backpacks but no pants on the trail. Rangers once stopped and cited a clad man who had an unleashed dog but let the nudists continue. Says Dave Smith, of San Leandro, who unusually walks naked: “I came around a corner and there was a mountain lion sitting like Egypt’s Great Sphinx of Giza 50 yards down the path.” Bring a heavy towel or tarp for sitting on a somewhat prickly meadow near the water.

Directions: From Stinson Beach, go north on Highway 1. Just north of Bolinas Lagoon, turn left on the often-unmarked exit to Bolinas. Follow the road as it curves along the lagoon and eventually ends at Olema-Bolinas Road; continue along Olema-Bolinas Road to the stop sign at Mesa Road. Turn right on Mesa and drive four miles until it becomes a dirt road and ends at a parking lot. On hot days the lot fills quickly. A sign at the trailhead next to the lot will guide you down scenic Palomarin Trail to the lake.

 

RCA BEACH, BOLINAS

Couples love RCA Beach near Bolinas, and so do singles who long for a ruggedly isolated shoreline that doesn’t take long to reach. This summer, there’s even more to enjoy: the beach is reported to be about four to six feet wider than last year. But it has more gravel this season. “A downside is that it’s very exposed to the wind,” says regular visitor Michael Velkoff. “There’s so much driftwood on the sand that many people build windbreaks or even whole forts. The last time I went, somebody built a 30-foot-tall dragon.” The breathtakingly beautiful beach seems even bigger than its one mile length because, Velkoff says, “you might only see eight people spread out on the sand. Everybody’s like 100 feet apart. It’s great.”

Directions: From Stinson Beach, take Highway 1 (Shoreline Highway) north toward Calle Del Mar for 4.5 miles. Turn left onto Olema Bolinas Road and follow it 1.8 miles to Mesa Road in Bolinas. Turn right and stay on Mesa until you see cars parked past some old transmission towers. Park and walk a 0.25 to the end of the pavement. Go left through the gap in the fence. The trail leads to a gravel road. Follow it until you see a path on your right, leading through a gate. Take it along the cliff top until it veers down to the beach. Or continue along Mesa until you come to a grove of eucalyptus trees. Enter through the gate here, then hike a 0.5 mile through a cow pasture on a path that will also bring you through thick brush. The second route is slippery and eroding, but less steep.

 

LIMANTOUR BEACH, OLEMA

You can tour long, lovely Limantour in Point Reyes National Seashore while wearing only your smile and some suntan lotion. Few visitors realize the narrow spit of sand is clothing-optional. But unless there are complaints or if you beach your bare body too close to a parking lot or the main entrance, you shouldn’t be hassled. The site is so big — about 2.5 miles long — you can wander for hours, checking out ducks and other waterfowl, shorebirds such as endangered snowy plovers, gray whales in the spring, and playful harbor seals (offshore and on the north side). Dogs are allowed on six-foot leashes on the south end. Directions: Follow Highway 101 north to the Sir Francis Drake Boulevard exit, then follow Sir Francis through San Anselmo and Lagunitas to Olema. At the intersection with Highway 1, turn right onto the highway. Just north of Olema, go left on Bear Valley Road. A mile after the turnoff for the Bear Valley Visitor Center, turn left (at the Limantour Beach sign) on Limantour Road and follow it 11 miles to the parking lot at the end. Walk north a 0.5 mile until you see some dunes about 50 yards east of the shore. Nudists usually prefer the valleys between the dunes for sunbathing. “One Sunday we had 200 yards to ourselves,” says a nudist. But lately, the dunes have been more crowded.

Quick Lit: July 7-July 13

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Literary readings, book tours, and talks this week

“RADAR Reading Series”, “Why there are words,” naked ladies, the poetics of resistance,  Alison Arngrim, “Monthly Rumpus”, and more.

Wednesday, July 7 

A Poetics of Resistance
Author Jeff Conant will read and discuss his new book, A Poetics of Resistance: The Revolutionary Public Relations of the Zapatista Insurgency, an engaging study for organizers to understand how to develop their messages of bottom-up revolution.
7 p.m., free
Modern Times Bookstore
888 Valencia, SF
www.mtbs.com

Breast Strokes
Authors Cathy Edgett  and Jane Flint present their inspiring story about two friends who help each other through the diagnosis of breast cancer.
7 p.m., free
Books Inc. Berkeley
1760 4th St., Berk.
(510) 525-7777


Intergenerational Writers Lab

A unique literary workshop for emerging writers featuring readings and performances by Lorna Dee Cervantes, Ben Fong-Torres, Leticia Hernandez, Genny Lim, and the 2010 IWL participants: C. Adán Cabrera, Emilie Coulson, Lyndsey Ellis, Marisa Gedney, Bill Gong, Meldy Hernandez, Nancy Larson, Page McBee, Ruby Rain and Natalia Vigil.
7 p.m., $5-$20 sliding scale
Intersection for the Arts
446 Valencia, SF
www.theintersection.org

“RADAR Reading Series”
Attend this showcase of underground and emerging artists and writers featuring Ryka Aoki de la Cruz, Diane di Prima, Mica Sigourney, and Tony Tulathimutte. Hosted by Michelle Tea.
6 p.m., free
San Francisco Pubic Library
Main Branch
100 Larkin, SF
www.radarproductions.org

Thursday, July 8

California Rocks
Join Katherine Baylor for a reading and discussion of her new book, California Rocks: A Guide to Geologic Sites in the Golden State.
6 p.m., free
University Press Books
2430 Bancroft, Berk.
(510) 548-0585

Flood Earth
Species extinction expert Peter Ward describes what the world will look like in 2050 and beyond.
Books Inc. Marina
2251 Chestnut, SF
(415) 931-3633

Sometimes Too Hot the Eye of Heaven Shines
Attend this reading and release party for Ryka Aoki’s new book, with readings by Ali Liebegott, Jusin Chin, and Ryka Aoki.
7 p.m., free
Modern Times Bookstore
888 Valencia, SF
www.mtbs.com

To Have Not
Author Frances Lefkowitz shares and reflects on her own life of poverty.
7 p.m., free
Books Inc. Berkeley
1760 4th St., Berk.
(510) 525-7777

Unlikely Allies
Author Joel Richard Paul weaves together a fascinating account of three people who, each for his own reasons, connived, betrayed, and spied to help win the revolution for the Americas.
6 p.m., $12
Mechanics’ Institute
57 Post, SF
(415) 393-0100

“Why There Are Words”
This installment of the “Why There Are Words” literary series asks authors to weigh in on what the word “accident” means to them. Featuring Elissa Bassist, editor and essayist from The Rumpus, Glen David Gold, author of the bestselling novel Carter Beats the Devil, Joshua Mohr, author of the novel Some Things that Meant the World to Me, Anne Raeff, author of Two Serious Ladies and Clara Mondschein’s Melancholia, Jason Roberts, author of A Sense of the World: How a Blind Man Became History’s Greatest Traveler, and Tatjana Soli, author of The Lotus Eaters.
7 p.m., $5
Studio 333
333 Caledonia, Sausalito
(415) 331-8272

Friday, July 9

“Poets and Writers on the Depression Era”
Part of LaborFest 2010, hear poets and writers speak on the struggle of working people to survive in this desperate world.
7 p.m., free
Kaleidoscope Gallery
3104 24th St., SF
www.laborfest.net

Saturday, July 10

The Butterfly Mosque
Hear the first American Muslim woman to become a professional comic book writer, G. Willow Wilson, discuss her new book, The Butterfly Mosque: A Young Woman’s Journey to Love and Islam.
6 p.m., $7
ICCNC
1433 Madison, Oakl.
(510) 219-2431

Confessions of a Prairie Bitch
Star of the hit TV show Little House on the Prairie, author Alison Arngrim presents her comic memoir of growing up as one of television’s most memorable characters.
3 p.m., free
Borders
400 Post, SF
(415) 399-1633

Sunday, July 11

Last Dog on the Hill
At this benefit for Hopalong rescue, author Steve Duno presents his new book.
6 p.m., free
Books Inc. Berkeley
1760 4th St., Berk.
(510) 525-7777

“Naked Girls Reading”
Get tips, advice and how-to’s from a naked girl at this latest installment of the “Naked Girls Reading” series featuring Carol Queen, Dottie Lux, Lady Monster, Isis Starr, Kimberlee Cline and Hollie Stevens providing their favorite words of advice.
7 p.m., $15-$20
Center for Sex and Culture
1519 Mission, SF
www.nakedgirlsreading.net

Monday, July 12

Awaken Your Strongest Self
Author Neil Fiore talks about his four-step program for breaking self-destructive habits, increasing productivity, and performing at your best.
7 p.m., free
Books Inc. Berkeley
1760 4th St., Berk.
(510) 525-7777

“Monthly Rumpus”
Enjoy this reading with authors Justine Sharrock, Matt Stewart, Eli Horowitz, Mac Barnett, Lauren Wheeler, and Matthew L. Mosely featuring a performance by Richard Porter, music by Ember Shrag, and comedy by Janine Brito. There will also be food, raffles, and more.
7 p.m., $10
Make-Out Room
3225 22nd St., SF
www.therumpus.net

Presumed Dead
Crime reporter for the San Francisco Chronicle and author Henry Lee discussed his new book titled, Presumed Dead: A True Life Murder Mystery.
7:30 p.m., free
The Booksmith
1644 Haight, SF
(415) 863-8688

Tuesday, July 13

An Intimate Ecology
Author Julia Whitty talks about her new book filled with gripping adventure, cutting-edge science, and an intimate understanding of our deep blue home.
7 p.m., free
Books Inc. Berkeley
1760 4th St., Berk.
(510) 525-7777

Golden Gate
Librarian, professor and author Kevin Starr discusses his new book titled, Golden Gate: The Life and Times of America’s Greatest Bridge.
7 p.m., free
BookShop West Portal
80 West Portal, SF
(415) 564-8080

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.

THEATER

OPENING

Cindy Goldfield & Scrumbly Koldewyn in Cowardly Things New Conservatory Theatre Center, 25 Van Ness; 861-8972, www.nctsf.org. $20-28. Previews Thurs/8, 8pm. Opens Fri/9, 8pm. Runs Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through July 31. Cindy Goldfield and Scrumbly Koldewyn in a tribute to Noel Coward.

Comedy Ballet The Garage, 975 Howard; (800) 838-3006, www.brownpapertickets.com. $15-25. Opens Fri/9, 8pm. Runs Thurs-Sat, 8pm, Sun, 3pm. Through July 18. Dark Porch Theatre presents an outlandish and unusual dance and theater hybrid.

Dead Certain Royce Gallery, 2901 Mariposa; (866) 811-4111. $12-28. Previews Thurs/8-Fri/9, 8pm. Opens Sat/10, 8pm. Runs Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through August 14. Expression Productions presents a psychological thriller by Marcus Lloyd.

Foresight Fort Mason Southside Theater, Building D; www.fortmason.org. $22-27. Opens Fri/9, 8pm. RunsFri-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2 and 8pm. Through July 18. Easily Distracted Theatre presents a new play by Bay Area filmmaker Ruben Grijalva.

Gilligan’s Island: Live on Stage! The Garage, 975 Howard; (800) 838-3006, www.brownpapertickets.com. $15-20. Opens Sun/11 8pm. Runs Sun, 8pm. Through August 29. Moore Theatre and SAFEhouse for the Performing Arts brings the TV show to the stage, lovey.

The 91 Owl African American Arts Cultural Complex, 762 Fulton; 574-8908, www.brownpapertickets.com. $10-25. Previews Thurs/8, 8pm. Opens Fri/9 8pm. Runs nightly 8pm. Through July 22. A production of Bernard Norris’s play about the life of a San Francisco bus stop.

Piaf: Love Conquers All Eureka Theatre, 215 Jackson; (800) 838-3006, www.brownpapertickets.com. $25-36. Previews Wed/7-Thurs/8, 8pm. Opens Fri/9 8pm. Runs Tues-Fri, 8pm; Sat, 2 and 8pm. Through August 7. Tone Poet Productions brings a portrait of Edith Piaf to the stage.

"San Francisco Olympians Festival" Exist Stage Left, 156 Eddy; www.sfolympians.com $10.

BAY AREA

Mrs. Warren’s Profession Bruns Ampitheatre, 100 California Theatre Shakespeare Way, Orinda; (510) 548-9666, www.calshakes.org. $34-70. California Shakespeare Theater presents George Bernard Shaw’s classic morality play.


ongoing

Abigail: The Salem Witch Trials Temple SF, 540 Howard; www.templesf.com. $10. Thurs/8, 29, Aug 5, 12, 19, 26, 9pm. Through Aug 26. Buzz Productions, with Skycastle Music and Lunar Eclipse Records, presents an original rock opera based on the Salem witch trials.

Beijing, California Thick House Theater, 1695 18th St; www.asianamericantheater.org. $15-25. Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 5pm. Through July 17. Asian American Theater Company presents a new play by Paul Heller set in the year 2050, when China invades America.

*Blackbird: Honoring a Century of Pansy Divas Mama Calizo’s Voice Factory, 1519 Mission; 786-9325, www.evezen.org. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through Sat/10. The intimate Blackbird Funeral Parlour Speakeasy is somber-toned and deceptively hushed, complete with period furnishings, a see-through dressing room, softly flickering altar, and obligatory piano. Only a few moments into Seth Eisen’s exceptional one-man cabaret, however, and the place is alive and kicking: doleful aspects of the décor making ample room for a sly, vigorous, soulful performer and a completely unexpected journey through some vibrant underground queer history (backed by fellow Circo Zero alum Sean Feit’s sharp musical direction and breezy accompaniment, and Alanna Simone’s gently humorous and haunting video pieces). Your guide is 100-year-old Jean Marlin, author of the notorious 1930s Pansy Craze, 75 years dead and looking fabulous in tails, bold green cravat, dapper purple hankie and a topping of regal black plumage (costumer Jack Davis demonstrates a genius throughout for turning a shoestring budget into a G-string–supported extravaganza). A multifaceted performer with quick tongue, nimble steps, and hearty voice (giving life to an assortment of extraordinary songs), Eisen uses drag, dance, puppetry, and performance art techniques to give flight to worthy exotic blackbirds known and forgotten—drag queen Zen priest Tommy Issan Dorsey; sexually ambiguous Danny Kaye; Brazil’s inimitable Ney Matogrosso; the definitely outré Klaus Nomi; and disco treasure Sylvester, whose live rendition of the Beatles’ "Blackbird" at SF’s War Memorial Opera House is one of several standout moments in this rollicking and poignant act of resurrection, insurrection, and homage. (Avila)

"Durang Me!" Next Stage, 1620 Gough; 1-800-838-3006, www.custommade.org. $10-28. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through Sat/10. Christopher Durang’s The Actor’s Nightmare could just as easily be called The Accountant’s Nightmare, as befuddled Everyman and presumed non-actor George Spelvin (Eric O’ Kelly) attempts to navigate his way out of a confused rendition of Noel Coward’s "Private Lives" dressed as Prince Hamlet and menaced by a trashcan-bearing Beckett-arian (AJ Davenport). This traditional companion piece to Durang’s Catholic School send-up Sister Mary Ignatius Explains It All for You references a Catholic boyhood several times, but it is the anxiety of the present moment that prevails, as the stage clears, and Spelvin is chased into a corner by an unforgiving spotlight to deliver his frantic last-ditch attempt at a soliloquy: his ABC’s. The titular Sister Mary Ignatius (AJ Davenport), by turns arctic and expansive, attempts to explain all, while periodically trotting out her star pupil Thomas (Cole Cloud) to recite catechism and spell eck-u-men-ickle for cookies. Davenport plays the pedantic side of Sister Mary with humorous vigor, but when a group of her former students drop by "to embarrass her" she doesn’t quite pull off embodying the ogress of their now-adult nightmares. Of her former students, it is probably Aloysius Benheim (Eric O’Kelly) who comes across as the most damaged by her tyranny, and not coincidentally, suffers the piece’s greatest humiliation. (Nicole Gluckstern)

How the Other Half Loves Phoenix Theatre, 414 Mason; (800) 838-3006, www.offbroadwaywest.org. $35, Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through July 31. In Alan Ayckbourn’s 1971 comedy, a night of infidelity propels two colliding couples into menacing a third, a pair of innocents unwittingly drawn into the whole affair as alibis. The collisions are made all the more kinetic by the fact that Ayckbourn cheekily drops the two principal couples into overlapping living rooms, where they continually brush by each other in ironic obliviousness. At the outset of this droll two-act, Fiona Foster (a smart, cucumber-cool Sylvia Kratins) has just slept with Bob Phillips (a brilliantly sourpussed James Darbyshire), junior colleague of her husband Frank (Jeff Garrett, exuding the animated splendor of the full-on English twit), on the night of the couple’s wedding anniversary (pure coincidence for the forgetful, loveless Fiona). In loose coordination with lover Bob, Fiona explains her late night absence with reference to a pair of vague acquaintances, the Featherstones (Jocelyn Stringer and Adam D. Simpson). Bob does the same with Teresa (a spunky Corinne Proctor), his homebound wife and a new, deeply disgruntled young mother. Naturally, back-to-back dinner parties with said alibis ensue, much to the horror and chagrin of the adulterers. Off Broadway West Theatre Company’s production, smoothly helmed by Richard Harder, makes the most of the complex staging as both time and space collapse over intersecting dining tables. If the play is slow to catch fire, it reaches a nice sustained peak that proves worth the going. Shaky accents from Garrett and especially Simpson can distract at times, but Harder’s cast is generally solid and engaging, with particularly enjoyable work from Darbyshire and Proctor as the volatile younger Phillips with their crass bickering, canned erotic energy, and barely countenanced off-stage baby. (Avila)

The New Century New Conservatory Theatre Center, 25 Van Ness, SF; 861-8972, www.nctcsf.org. $22-40. Wed-Sat, 8pm; Sun/11, 2pm. Through Sun/11. New Conservatory Theatre Center performs Paul Rudnick’s bill of short comedies.

Peter Pan Threesixty Theater, Ferry Park (on Embarcadero across from the Ferry Bldg); www.peterpantheshow.com. $30-125. Tues and Thurs, 7pm; Fri-Sat, 7:30pm (also Sat, 2pm); Wed, 2pm; Sun, 1 and 5pm. Through August 29. JM Barrie’s tale is performed in a specially-built 360-degree CGI theater.

Posibilidad, or Death of the Worker Dolores Park and other sites; 285-1717, www.sfmt.org. Free. Sat-Sun, 2pm; also Sept 6, 2pm; Sept 17, 8pm. The San Francisco Mime Troupe opens its 51st season with a modern song and tango about politics in the workplace.

Reading My Dad’s Porn and French Kissing the Dog The Marsh Studio Theater, 1074 Valencia; (800) 838-3006, www.themarsh.org. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through July 17. The title of San Francisco writer-performer Cherry Zonkowski’s confessional solo show gives only a little away—a passing detail from the Nordic diversions of a spirited army brat and daughter of an alcoholic father—but the rest of the narrative leaves even less to the imagination. An account of Zonkowski’s initiation into the sex party and BDSM scene, Reading My Dad’s Porn bounces gleefully between comically graphic depictions of sweaty, writhing Bay Area meet-and-greets and a childhood and young adulthood buried in family dysfunction, a loveless marriage, and the grueling teaching load of a recent English PhD. Ultimately, it’s the story of a woman finding her own identity and community, and if the outlines sound familiar they also feel that way. The straightforward plot—peppered with humorous details and asides (as well as the odd song, accompanied by accordionist Salane Schultz, alternating nights with Aaron Seeman)—lacks both urgency and characters of much complexity. The story’s patina of outré sex, meanwhile, is far from revelatory and too superficial and jokey to offer much dramatic heft. Nevertheless, the show, developed with director David Ford, draws a limited appeal from the force of Zonkowski’s extroverted personality, whose orientation sexual and otherwise skews toward fun—although her more aggressive attempts to corral the audience into participating (mainly vocally) in the show’s narrative high jinx may put some off even more than the fisting by the snack table. (Avila)

What Mama Said About Down There Our Little Theater, 287 Ellis; 820-3250, www.theatrebayarea.org. $15-25. Thurs-Sun, 8pm. Through August 28. Writer-performer-activist Sia Amma presents this largely political, a bit clinical, inherently sexual, and utterly unforgettable performance piece.

Young Frankenstein Golden Gate Theatre, 1 Taylor; 551-2000, www.shnsf.com. $30-99. Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2pm, also Tues/13, July 20, 8pm; Wed/7, July 24, 21, 2 and 8pm. Through July 25.

For all its outlandish showmanship, Mel Brooks’s other movie-turned-musical is not quite as grand a beast as The Producers . Still, the adventures of Victor Frankenstein’s reputation-conscious grandson, Frederick Frankenstein—played with exceeding charm and surgeon-like skill by major cut-up Roger Bart, originator of the role on Broadway—remains a monster of a show, in more ways than one. The rapid-fire repartee, for starters, is scarily deft, the comic timing among a first-rate cast all but flawless (even when milking a line shamelessly), the fancy footwork (choreographed by director Susan Stroman) pretty fancy, and the mise en scène holds some attractive surprises as well. At the same time, and despite the fecund humor revolving around questions of size and virility, the show’s actual two-and-a-half-hour length proves a bit wearying, especially as many of the best jokes (though by no means all) are the much-loved and universally much-repeated gags from the film. Moreover, Brooks’s songs, while very able, rarely rise to memorable and sometimes feel perfunctory or a bit busy. One of the glorious exceptions is the blind hermit scene (played brilliantly by Brad Oscar), which combines the hilariously plaintive song "Please Send Me Someone" with a lovingly faithful rendition of the original spoof for a sequence that literally smokes. (Avila)


BAY AREA

*East 14th: True Tales of a Reluctant Player Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston, Berk; www.themarsh.org. $20-50. July 24, 31, 8pm; July 18, 25, Aug 1, 7pm; Fri/9, 16, 9pm. Through August 1. Don Reed’s solo play, making its Oakland debut after an acclaimed New York run, is truly a welcome homecoming twice over. (Avila)

Left of Oz Ashby Stage, 1901 Ashby, Berk; (800) 838-3006, www.brownpapertickets.com. $25-50. Fri-Sat, 8pm, Sun, 7pm. Through July 18. Stephanie’s Playhouse presents a lez-queer musical comedy following the out west adventures of Dorothy.

Les Liasons Dangereuses Redwood Ampitheatre, 30 Sir Francis Drake, Ross; (415) 251-1027, www.porchlight.net. $15-30. Thurs-Sat, 7:30pm; also Wed/7, 7:30pm. Through Sat/10. Porchlight Theatre Company presents a production of Christopher Hampton’s adaptation of the 1782 novel.

Loveland The Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston, Berk; (800) 838-3006, www.themarsh.org. $25-50. Fri/9, 7pm; Sun/11, 2pm. Through July 11. Ann Randolph’s comic solo show about an irreverent woman’s trip back to her childhood home in Ohio.

Shaker Chair Pear Avenue Theatre, 1220 Pear Avenue, Mtn View; (800) 838-3006, www.brownpapertickets.com. $15-30. Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2pm (also Sat/10, 2pm). Through July 11. Pear Avenue Theatre presents Adam Bock’s play about a middle-aged widow who applies Shaker philosophy to her lifestyle.

Speech & Debate Aurora Theatre, 2081 Addison, Berk; www.auroratheatre.org. $34-55. Wed-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2pm, 7pm; Tues, 7pm. Through July 18. Aurora Theatre closes its 18th season with Stephen Karam’s comedy about three teen misfits connected to a small town sex scandal.


PERFORMANCE/DANCE

BATS Improv Theatre Bayfront Theater, Fort Mason Center, B350 Fort Mason; 474-6776, www.improv.org. Fri-Sat, 8pm. Through July 31. Bay Area Theatresports presents an evening of theater and comedy.
The Bowls Project: Secrets of the Apocalyptic Intimate Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, Sculpture Court, 701 Mission; 978-2787, www.ybca.org. Tues/6, 6-8pm, free. Through August 22. Charming Hostess presents a series of performances in conjunction with an interactive sound sculpture.
Liz Grant Variety Pack Comedy Show Purple Onion, 140 Columbus; 200-8781, www.brownpapertickets.com. Fri, 4:30pm. Through Sept 3. $10. A changing lineup of stand up comedy.
"San Francisco Olympians Festival" Exit Stage Left, 156 Eddy; www.sfolympians.com Fri/9-Sat/10, 8pm, $10. A series of one=act perfomances by No Nude Men Productions.

Music listings

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Music listings are compiled by Paula Connelly and Cheryl Eddy. Since club life is unpredictable, it’s a good idea to call ahead to confirm bookings and hours. Prices are listed when provided to us. Submit items at listings@sfbg.com.

WEDNESDAY 7

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

AB and the Sea, What Laura Says, DJ Ted Café du Nord. 9:30pm, $5.

Beehive Spirit, Satellite Crush, Happy Talk Elbo Room. 9pm, $6.

Fol Chen, Jhameel Bottom of the Hill. 9pm. $12.

Kajillion, Amanda’s X, Real Rickshaw Stop. 8pm, $10.

Maine, This Century Slim’s. 7pm, $18.

MofoParty Band Biscuits and Blues. 8 and 10pm, $16.

Project Pitchfork, Ayria, Break Up DNA Lounge. 8pm, $20.

*Shannon and the Clams, Outdoorsmen, Tropical Sleep Knockout. 9:30pm, $5.

DANCE CLUBS

Booty Call Q-Bar, 456 Castro, SF; www.bootycallwednesdays.com. 9pm. Juanita Moore hosts this dance party, featuring DJ Robot Hustle.

Hands Down! Bar on Church. 9pm, free. With DJs Claksaarb, Mykill, and guests spinning indie, electro, house, and bangers.

Jam Fresh Wednesdays Vessel, 85 Campton, SF; (415) 433-8585. 9:30pm, free. With DJs Slick D, Chris Clouse, Rich Era, Don Lynch, and more spinning top40, mashups, hip hop, and remixes.]

Mary-Go-Round Lookout, 3600 16th St, SF; (415) 431-0306. 10pm, $5. A weekly drag show with hosts Cookie Dough, Pollo Del Mar, and Suppositori Spelling.

RedWine Social Dalva. 9pm-2am, free. DJ TophOne and guests spin outernational funk and get drunk.

Respect Wednesdays End Up. 10pm, $5. Rotating DJs Daddy Rolo, Young Fyah, Irie Dole, I-Vier, Sake One, Serg, and more spinning reggae, dancehall, roots, lovers rock, and mash ups.

Synchronize Il Pirata, 2007 16th St, SF; (415) 626-2626. 10pm, free. Psychedelic dance music with DJs Helios, Gatto Matto, Psy Lotus, Intergalactoid, and guests.

THURSDAY 8

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

B Stars, Beautiful Train Wrecks, Maurice Tani Band Hotel Utah. 9pm, $8.

Beth Custer Ensemble, Dina Maccabee Band, Allison Lovejoy’s Cabaret Nouveau Café du Nord. 8pm, $12.

Big Billy Daddy Cade Biscuits and Blues. 8 and 10pm, $16. BB King tribute.

“The Bowls Project: Secrets of the Apocalyptic Intimate” Yerba Buena Center for the Arts Sculpture Court, 701 Mission, SF; (415) 987-2787, www.ybca.org. 6pm, free with gallery admission ($5-7). Charming Hostess with special musical guests.

Deerhoof, Donkeys, Southeast Engine Bottom of the Hill. 9pm, $15.

Downer Party Hemlock Tavern. 9pm, $5. With DJs Mother Barry, Mattfiesta, Scissorwolf, and DJ Swords.

Mob Figaz featuring the Jacka and Husalah, Strong Arm Steady Slim’s. 9pm, $21.

Unter Noll, Cyanotic, Cynical Mass DNA Lounge. 9pm, $11.

Wisecracker, Jokes for Feelings, Spawn Atomic Kimo’s. 9pm.

FOLK/WORLD/COUNTRY

Gold Diggers Café Royale, 800 Post, SF; (415) 641-6033. 8pm, free.

Kentucky Twisters Atlas Café. 8pm, free.

DANCE CLUBS

Afrolicious Elbo Room. 9:30pm, $5-7. DJs Pleasuremaker and Señor Oz spin Afro-tropical, samba, and funk.

BASE Vessel. 9:30pm, $10. With DJs Chris Liebing and Alland Byallo spinning tech house.

CakeMIX SF Wish, 1539 Folsom, SF; www.wishsf.com. 10pm, free. DJ Carey Kopp spinning funk, soul, and hip hop.

Caribbean Connection Little Baobab, 3388 19th St, SF; (415) 643-3558. 10pm, $3. DJ Stevie B and guests spin reggae, soca, zouk, reggaetón, and more.

Drop the Pressure Underground SF. 6-10pm, free. Electro, house, and datafunk highlight this weekly happy hour.

Good Foot Som., 2925 16th St, SF; (415) 558-8521. 10pm, free. With DJs spinning R&B, Hip hop, classics, and soul.

Gymnasium Matador, 10 Sixth St, SF; (415) 863-4629. 9pm, free. With DJ Violent Vickie and guests spinning electro, hip hop, and disco.

Jivin’ Dirty Disco Butter, 354 11th St., SF; (415) 863-5964. 8pm, free. With DJs spinning disco, funk, and classics.

Kissing Booth Make-Out Room. 9pm, free. DJs Jory, Commodore 69, and more spinning indie dance, disco, 80’s, and electro.

Koko Puffs Koko Cocktails, 1060 Geary, SF; (415) 885-4788. 10pm, free. Dubby roots reggae and Jamaican funk from rotating DJs.

Mestiza Bollywood Café, 3376 19th St, SF; (415) 970-0362. 10pm, free. Showcasing progressive Latin and global beats with DJ Juan Data.

Motion Sickness Vertigo, 1160 Polk, SF; (415) 674-1278. 10pm, free. Genre-bending dance party with DJs Sneaky P, Public Frenemy, and D_Ro Cyclist.

Nacht Musik Knockout. 10:30pm, $5. Dark, minimal, and electronic with DJs Omar, Josh, and Justin.

Peaches Skylark, 10pm, free. With an all female DJ line up featuring Deeandroid, Lady Fingaz, That Girl, and Umami spinning hip hop.

Popscene 330 Rich. 10pm, $10. Rotating DJs spinning indie, Britpop, electro, new wave, and post-punk.

Solid Thursdays Club Six. 9pm, free. With DJs Daddy Rolo and Tesfa spinning roots, reggae, dancehall, soca, and mashups.

FRIDAY 9

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

Angels of Vice, Stereo Freakout, Farallon, Ratchet Great American Music Hall. 7:30pm, $15.

Seth Augustus Revolution Café, 3248 22nd St., SF; (415) 642-0474. 8:45pm, free.

Guy Davis and the High Flying Rockets Biscuits and Blues. 8 and 10pm, $22.

*Dwarves, Tater Famine, Thee Merry Widows Thee Parkside. 9pm, $10. Acoustic performances.

Erasure-Esque, Sing Blue Silver Café du Nord. 9:30pm, $12.

Ettrick, Sean, Peji/Kunin, Pink Canoes Hemlock Tavern. 9:30pm, $7.

Flexx Bronco, Neon Nights, Bite, Karma Bomb Kimo’s. 9pm, $7.

El Guincho, Still Flyin’, Ghosts on Tape Rickshaw Stop. 8:30pm, $15.

Hi-Rhythm Hustlers Verdi Club, 2424 Mariposa, SF; www.thehirhythmhustlers.com. 9:30pm, $15.

Jrod Indigo with Kat 010 Coda. 10pm, $10.

*Magic Bullets, Dreamdate, Wax Idols Knockout. 9pm, $7.

Music for Animals, Foreign Resort, Hundred Days Bottom of the Hill. 9:30pm, $12.

Skinlab, Attitude Adjustment, A Thousand Kingdoms, Un-ID Slim’s. 8pm, $15.

Water and Bodies, Beta State, Knife Prty, Citabria Hotel Utah. 9pm, $8.

DANCE CLUBS

Bang the Box 222 Hyde. 9pm. With DJ Joakim spinning electronic.

Exhale, Fridays Project One Gallery, 251 Rhode Island, SF; (415) 465-2129. 5pm, $5. Happy hour with art, fine food, and music with Vin Sol, King Most, DJ Centipede, and Shane King.

Fat Stack Fridays Koko Cocktails, 1060 Geary, SF; (415) 885-4788. 10pm, free. With rotating DJs Romanowski, B-Love, Tomas, Toph One, and Vinnie Esparza.

Fo’ Sho! Fridays Madrone Art Bar. 10pm, $5. DJs Kung Fu Chris and Makossa spin rare grooves, soul, funk, and hip-hop classics.

Fubar Fridays Butter, 354 11th St., SF; (415) 863-5964. 6pm, $5. With DJs spinning retro mashup remixes.

Club Dragon Club Eight, 1151 Folsom, SF; www.eightsf.com. 9pm, $8. A gay Asian paradise. Featuring two dance floors playing dance and hip hop, smoking patio, and 2 for 1 drinks before 10pm.

Good Life Fridays Apartment 24, 440 Broadway, SF; (415) 989-3434. 10pm, $10. With DJ Brian spinning hip hop, mashups, and top 40.

Heartical Roots Bollywood Café. 9pm, $5. Recession friendly reggae.

Hot Chocolate Milk. 9pm, $5. With DJs Big Fat Frog, Chardmo, DuseRock, and more spinning old and new school funk.

Know Your History Som. 9pm, $15. With DJs 45 King, Shortkut, Marky, and A-Ron spinning hip hop.

Lucky Road DNA Lounge. 9pm, $10. Gypsy punk dance party with Sister Kate, Rose Harden, MWE Band, and more.

Makeout Sessions Club Six. 9pm, $10. With DJs Juan Basshead, La Cuchina Som Sistema, Blackheart, Ultraviolet, and Rob Cannon spinning dubstep.

Pantheon 103 Harriet, 103 Harriet, SF; (415) 431-1200. 9pm, $25. A night of Gods and Goddesses featuring DJs Elite Force, Soul of Man, Slyde, Myagi, and more spinning divine wonders to raise money for the Burning Man Temple 2010.

Rockabilly Fridays Jay N Bee Club, 2736 20th St, SF; (415) 824-4190. 9pm, free. With DJs Rockin’ Raul, Oakie Oran, Sergio Iglesias, and Tanoa “Samoa Boy” spinning 50s and 60s Doo Wop, Rockabilly, Bop, Jive, and more.

Some Thing The Stud. 10pm, $7. VivvyAnne Forevermore, Glamamore, and DJ Down-E give you fierce drag shows and afterhours dancing.

Strictly Video 111 Minna. 9pm, $10. With VDJs Shortkut, Swift Rock, GoldenChyld, and Satva spinning rap, 80s, R&B, and Dancehall.

Treat Em Right Elbo Room. 10pm, $5. Hip-hop and funk with DJ Vinnie Esparza and guests.

Tsunami Supperclub. With the Coda tag team and DJs fLOORCRAFt, Johnnie Schiffer, FurSure, and more spinning electronic and progressive dance.

SATURDAY 10

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti, Magic Kids, Pearl Harbor Bimbo’s 365 Club. 9pm, $15.

Au Revoir Simone, Social Studies, Alexa Wilding Great American Music Hall. 9pm, $16.

Black Nite Crash, Sky Parade, These Hills of Gold, Silent Pictures Hemlock Tavern. 9:30pm, $8.

Carbon Leaf Café du Nord. 9:30pm, $16.

Dm Stith, Inlets, Silje Nas Hemlock Tavern. 5pm, $7.

Goldenhearts, Soft White Sixties, Happy Idiot Thee Parkside. 9pm, $8.

James Harman Band Biscuits and Blues. 8 and 10pm, $20.

Paul McCartney AT&T Park, 24 Willie Mayes Pk, SF; www.ticketmaster.com. 7:30pm, $49.50-250.

Jordin Sparks, Ashlyne Huff, Days of Difference Regency Ballroom. 8pm, $28.

Triple Cobra, Butlers, Hewhocannotbenamed, DJ Omar Bottom of the Hill. 9:30pm, $12.

21st Century, Adam Farone, Picture Me Broken, Endings for Anastasia, Guns Fall Silent Slim’s. 7:30pm, $15.

Victim Nation Thee Parkside. 3pm, free.

JAZZ/NEW MUSIC

Audium 9 1616 Bush, SF; (415) 771-1616. 8:30pm, $15.

Eric Kurtzrock Trio Ana Mandara, Ghirardelli Square, 891 Beach, SF; (415) 771-6800. 8pm, free.

“Meridian Music: Composers in Performance” Meridian Gallery, 535 Powell, SF; (415) 398-7229, www.meridiangallery.org. 7:30pm, $5-10. With Frank Gratkowski’s Artikulationen (articulations).

“Re-Sonic in the Illuminated Forest” Lab, 2948 16th St, SF; (415) 320-6685. 8pm, $10-15. Performances and talks by Alyce Santoro, Joshua Churchill, and Thomas Carnacki.

FOLK/WORLD/COUNTRY

Julio Bravo y Orquesta Salsabor The Ramp, 855 Terry Francois, SF; (415) 621-2378. 5pm, free.

Sandy Cressman and Homenagem Brasileira Coda. 7pm, $10.

Kara Lara Mission Cultural Center for Latino Arts Theater, 2868 Mission, SF; (415) 821-1155. 7pm; free, donations encouraged. A benefit for Artists in Resistencia.

“Portraits” City Art Gallery, 828 Valencia, SF; (415) 970-9900. 7pm, free. A release party for Off the Air Production’s new album featuring 32 songwriters.

Elio Reve y Su Charangon Yoshi’s San Francisco. 8 and 10pm, $30.

SF Hootenanny Night Café International, 508 Haight, SF; (415) 552-7390. 7pm, free. With the Courtney Janes, Bhi Bhiman, Rick DiDia, and Aireene Espiritu.

Naima Shalhoub Revolution Café, 3248 22nd St., SF; (415) 642-0474. 8:45pm, free.

“Song-Along: A Songwriters Showcase” Bazaar Café, 5927 Californa, SF; (415) 831-5620. 7pm, free. With Pi Jacobs, Thea Hopkins, and Karyna Cruz.

Allen Thompson Plough and Stars. 8pm, $5.

DANCE CLUBS

BADNB Club Six. 9pm, $10. With DJs 2 Cents, Truth, Alphonic, Canadub, and Audio Angel spinning drum and bass.

Bar on Church 9pm. Rotating DJs Foxxee, Joseph Lee, Zhaldee, Mark Andrus, and Nuxx.

Bootie DNA Lounge. 9pm, $6-12. Mash-ups.

Cockblock Rickshaw Stop. 10pm, $7. Queer dance party for homos and friends with DJ Nuxx and Zax.

Dead After Dark Knockout. 6pm, free. With DJ Touchy Feely.

Electricity Knockout. 10pm, $4. A decade of 80s with DJs Omar, Deadbeat, and Yule Be Sorry.

Frolic Stud. 9pm, $3-7. DJs Dragn’Fly, NeonBunny, and Ikkuma spin at this celebration of anthropomorphic costume and dance. Animal outfits encouraged.

HYP Club Eight, 1151 Folsom, SF; www.eightsf.com. 10pm, free. Gay and lesbian hip hop party, featuring DJs spinning the newest in the top 40s hip hop and hyphy.

Rock City Butter, 354 11th St., SF; (415) 863-5964. 6pm, $5 after 10pm. With DJs spinning party rock.

Same Sex Salsa and Swing Magnet, 4122 18th St, SF; (415) 305-8242. 7pm, free.

Scotty Boy Vessel. 9:30pm, $20. Spinning mash ups.

Spirit Fingers Sessions 330 Ritch. 9pm, free. With DJ Morse Code and live guest performances.

Spotlight Siberia, 314 11th St, SF; (415) 552-2100. 10pm. With DJs Slowpoke, Double Impact, and Moe1.

Tormenta Tropical Elbo Room. 10pn, $5-10. Electro-cumbia DJs.

SUNDAY 11

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

“Battle of the Bands” DNA Lounge. 5:30pm, $12. With My Addiction, Lucabrazzi, Kavarzee, and more.

Birds and Batteries, Grand Hallway, That Moanin’ Dove Biscuits and Blues. 8pm, $12.

Colossal Yes, Lazarus, Donovan Quinn and Zachary Cale Hemlock Tavern. 9pm, $6.

Ferocious Few, Fake Your Own Death, Murder of Lilies, Death Valley High Bottom of the Hill. 8pm, $10.

Austin Lucas, Cory Branan Thee Parkside. 8pm, $8.

Nickle Slots Thee Parkside. 4pm, free.

Sea Dramas, Guy Sebastian Hotel Utah. 8pm, $8.

Streetlight Manifesto, Supervillains, Wonder Years, Dan Potthast Slim’s. 7:30pm, $16.

FOLK/WORLD/COUNTY

Gente do Samba The Ramp, 855 Terry Francois, SF; (415) 621-2378. 5pm, free.

Gipsy Kings Fillmore. 8pm, $85.

Jewish Music Festival Party Yerba Buena Gardens, 750 Howard, SF; (415) 820-3550. Noon, free.

Devon McClive Amnesia. 6:30pm, free.

Elio Reve y Su Charangon Yoshi’s San Francisco. 5 and 7pm, $5-30.

DANCE CLUBS

DiscoFunk Mashups Cat Club. 10pm, free. House and 70’s music.

Dub Mission Elbo Room. 9pm, $6. Dub, dubstep, roots, and dancehall with DJ Sep, J Boogie, and Vinnie Esparza.

Gloss Sundays Trigger, 2344 Market, SF; (415) 551-CLUB. 7pm. With DJ Hawthorne spinning house, funk, soul, retro, and disco.

Honey Soundsystem Paradise Lounge. 8pm-2am. “Dance floor for dancers – sound system for lovers.” Got that?

Jock! Lookout, 3600 16th St, SF; (415) 431-0306. 3pm, $2. This high-energy party raises money for LGBT sports teams.

Kick It Bar on Church. 9pm. Hip-hop with DJ Zax.

Lowbrow Sunday Delirium. 1pm, free. DJ Roost Uno and guests spinning club hip hop, indie, and top 40s.

Religion Bar on Church. 3pm. With DJ Nikita.

Stag AsiaSF. 6pm, $5. Gay bachelor parties are the target demo of this weekly erotic tea dance.

MONDAY 12

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

Farmer Dave Scher, Seventeen Evergreen Rickshaw Stop. 8pm, $10.

*Li’l Kim Rrazz Room, Hotel Nikko, 222 Mason, SF; (415) 394-1189, www.therrazzroom.com. 8pm, $47.50-75.

Miggs, Silver Griffin Café du Nord. 8pm, $12.

Moka Only and Factor, Ceschi, Open Mike Eagle, Kirby Dominant, Toast Elbo Room. 9pm, $8.

Tool Bill Graham Civic Auditorium, 99 Grove, SF; www.ticketmaster.com. 8pm, $59.50.

DANCE CLUBS

Black Gold Koko Cocktails, 1060 Geary, SF; (415) 885-4788. 10pm-2am, free. Senator Soul spins Detroit soul, Motown, New Orleans R&B, and more — all on 45!

Death Guild DNA Lounge. 9:30pm, $3-5. Gothic, industrial, and synthpop with Decay, Joe Radio, and Melting Girl.

Krazy Mondays Beauty Bar. 10pm, free. With DJs Ant-1, $ir-Tipp, Ruby Red I, Lo, and Gelo spinning hip hop.

M.O.M. Madrone Art Bar. 6pm, free. With DJ Gordo Cabeza and guests playing all Motown every Monday.

Manic Mondays Bar on Church. 9pm. Drink 80-cent cosmos with Djs Mark Andrus and Dangerous Dan.

Musik for Your Teeth Revolution Café, 3248 22nd St., SF; (415) 642-0474. 5pm, free. Soul cookin’ happy hour tunes with DJ Antonino Musco.

Network Mondays Azul Lounge, One Tillman Pl, SF; www.inhousetalent.com. 9pm, $5. Hip-hop, R&B, and spoken word open mic, plus featured performers.

Skylarking Skylark. 10pm, free. With resident DJs I & I Vibration, Beatnok, and Mr. Lucky and weekly guest DJs.

TUESDAY 13

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

Andrew Belle, Ernie Halter, Tony Lucca Hotel Utah. 8pm, $12.

Fat Tuesday Band Biscuits and Blues. 8 and 10pm, $15.

Halsted, Dave Smallen Café du Nord. 9:30pm, $10.

Hanalei, James Leste, Rob Carter and Ruben Diaz Bottom of the Hill. 9pm, $8.

Mynabirds, Honeycomb Rickshaw Stop. 6pm, $10.

Maren Parusel, Fight or Flight Thee Parkside. 8pm, $8.

Prize Hog, Black Skies, Flood Hemlock Tavern. 9pm, $6.

DANCE CLUBS

Alcoholocaust Presents Argus Lounge. 9pm, free. With DJ Big Dwayne and DJ What’s His Fuck.

Eclectic Company Skylark, 9pm, free. DJs Tones and Jaybee spin old school hip hop, bass, dub, glitch, and electro.

Fromagique Elbo Room. 9pm, $10. Live music and tawdry burlesque with Bombshell Betty.

Rock Out Karaoke! Amnesia. 7:30pm. With Glenny Kravitz.

Share the Love Trigger, 2344 Market, SF; (415) 551-CLUB. 5pm, free. With DJ Pam Hubbuck spinning house.

Womanizer Bar on Church. 9pm. With DJ Nuxx.

Film listings

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Film listings are edited by Cheryl Eddy. Reviewers are Kimberly Chun, Michelle Devereaux, Max Goldberg, Dennis Harvey, Johnny Ray Huston, Erik Morse, Louis Peitzman, Lynn Rapoport, Ben Richardson, and Matt Sussman. For rep house showtimes, see Rep Clock. For first-run showtimes, see Movie Guide. Due to the July 4 holiday, theater information was incomplete at presstime.

ANOTHER HOLE IN THE HEAD

The seventh Another Hole in the Head Film Festival runs July 8-29 at the Roxie, 3117 16th St, SF; and Viz Cinema, New People, 1746 Post, SF. For tickets (most shows $11), visit www.sfindie.com. For commentary, see Trash and http://www.sfbg.com/pixel_vision

THURS/8

Roxie Death Kappa 5. Mutant Girls Squad 7. A Serbian Film 9.

FRI/9

Roxie Samurai Princess 5. Symbol 7. RoboGeisha 9. Tucker and Dale vs. Evil 11.

SAT/10

Roxie Satan Hates You 5. A Serbian Film 7. Vampire Girl vs. Frankenstein Girl 9. The Exterminator 11.

SUN/11

Roxie Nightmares in Red, White, and Blue 5. The Violent Kind 7. Yatterman 9.

MON/12

Roxie Sexy Time Trip Ninjas 5. Samurai Princess 7. Nightmares in Red, White, and Blue 9.

TUES/13

Roxie Satan Hates You 5. Silent Night, Zombie Night 7. Yatterman 9.

OPENING

Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo Opening with the humid buzz of crickets and the probings of bug aficionados in the thick of a forest, first-time documentarian Jessica Oreck puts Japan’s fascination with insects under the microscope. Preferring to let the images and interview subjects speak for themselves, she turns a lens to young children who clamor to buy sleek, shiny, obsidian beetles, as well as the giant big city gatherings of insect collectors — events that likely are less than familiar to western audiences. Oreck’s intent is to get at the ineffable attraction behind such astonishing sales as that of a single beetle for $90,000 not so long ago, and to that end, she weaves in looks at insect literature and art, visits to Buddhist temples, and historical factoids about, for instance, the first cricket-selling business in the early 1800s. (1:30) Elmwood, Sundance Kabuki. (Chun)

*Daddy Longlegs Purportedly based on their own growing-up experiences, Ben and Joshua Safdie’s feature does for the terminally immature Manhattan reluctant father what Roger Dodger (2002) did for the terminally predatory heterosexual Manhattan bachelor: provide gruesome shaky-cam dissection of a dad dreadful by any common moral standard, yet who is more pathetic and oddly ingratiating than loathsome. The two weeks Lenny (Ronald Bronstein) is charged with caring for his two unruly young sons (Sage Ranaldo, Frey Ranaldo) by a pointedly estranged, vacationing ex-spouse provide enough evidence for a hundred angry divorce proceedings. While a friend is behaving inappropriately with the kids, Lenny goes into the bathroom to smoke a doob; when he’s got a babysitting work conflict, he sedates them into a near-coma. Yet at the same time he’s also a really fun, loving dad — just one lacking all conventional instincts for appropriate behavior. On the one hand this is a parental horror film, on the other a touching and delicate portrait of someone who would very much like to be a good dad but is congenitally doomed as fuckup. Both hands say: this is rather wonderful, ultimately very poignant movie. (1:40) Roxie. (Harvey)

Despicable Me The ad campaign for this film is completely impenetrable, is it not? Apparently it’s a 3-D animated comedy about a guy plotting to steal the moon, with some sentimental stuff thrown as a bonus. (1:35)

*The Girl Who Played With Fire Lisbeth Salander is cooler than you are. The heroine of Stieg Larsson’s bestselling book series is fierce, mysterious, and utterly captivating: in the movie adaptations, she’s perfectly realized by Noomi Rapace, who has the power to transform Lisbeth from literary hero to film icon. Rapace first impressed audiences in The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (2009), a faithful adaptation of Larsson’s premiere novel, and she returns as Lisbeth in The Girl Who Played With Fire. The sequel, as is often the case, isn’t quite on par with the original, but it’s still a page-to-screen success. And while the first film spent equal time on journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Michael Nyqvist), The Girl Who Played With Fire is almost entirely Lisbeth’s story. Sure, there’s more to the movie than the hacker-turned-sleuth — and the actor who plays her — but she carries the film. Rapace is Lisbeth; Lisbeth is Rapace. I’d watch both in anything. (2:09) Smith Rafael. (Peitzman)

Grease Sing-A-Long Snore. Where’s the sing-a-long love for Grease 2 (1982)? “Cool Rider” forever! (1:50)

John Rabe John Rabe (Ulrich Tukur) was the Oskar Schindler of Nanking: A man who, under discreetly opportunist pretenses, attempted to keep the Chinese in a safety zone from the Japanese in the late 30s. Steve Buscemi plays Robert Wilson, a surly American doctor. He’s to Tukur as Ben Kingsley was to Liam Neeson in 1993’s Schindler’s List, but without the nuance or iconic chemistry. Tukur is understated, bordering on uninteresting, and Buscemi is just over-the-top. Unlike Spielberg’s film, John Rabe grants us little access to the stories of civilians. The film is so preoccupied with people of power and those like Rabe, couched in a world of privilege, that the film lacks an emotional, human center. It’s impossible to feel much of anything because we’re never asked to feel, nor are we ever asked to endure any especially difficult scenes. Even the occasional rain of hellfire isn’t as wallop-packing as it ought to be. (2:14) Elmwood, Presidio. (Ryan Lattanzio)

*The Kids Are All Right See “We Are Family.” (1:47) SF Center.

Predators The hunt-happy creatures take a break from fighting the Aliens to terrorize a surprisingly highbrow cast, including Adrien Brody and Laurence Fishburne (but not, alas, Chris Hansen). (runtime not available)

*Stonewall Uprising See “Riot Awakening.” (1:22)

*Wild Grass The premise of Wild Grass, Alain Resnais’ loopy new film, could have come straight from Nancy Meyers: an older married man finds a single, middle-aged woman’s wallet. He returns it but can’t stop thinking about her. She, in turn, is intrigued by his attentions. Both are surprised by the connection they feel growing between them, one which they nevertheless have difficulty articulating. When they finally meet, sparks fly. That purloined wallet, along with the romcom set-up, aren’t the only MacGuffins in Resnais’ Wild ride, which uses Christian Gailly’s novel L’ Incindent as a rough guide for its careening tour of the irrational courses that desire can lead us down. The man and woman in question are Georges, an embittered writer with a possibly dark past, and flame-haired Marguerite, a dentist and part-time aviatrix, both played to neurotic perfection by longtime Resnais regulars André Dussollier and Sabine Azéma. Resnais’ attempt to translate what he has called the “musicality” of Gailly’s prose has resulted in a frenetic everything-but-the-kitchen-sink approach that tries to visually approximate Georges and Marguerites’ every internal monologue, fantasy, and increasingly risky instance of impulsive behavior, throwing in some knowing winks to classic Hollywood cinema for good measure. It’s a mess, to be sure (there are even two endings!). But like Mr. Magoo, the 87-year-old Resnais, as if by some unseen hand, steers clear of complete disaster. There hasn’t been a Gallic car crash this delightful to watch since Godard’s famous pile-up in 1967’s Week End. (1:44) Clay, Shattuck. (Sussman)

ONGOING

The A-Team Why was the original A-Team the most popular band of mercenaries on TV? The estimable chemistry and comedic skills of Mr. T; legit Breakfast at Tiffany‘s star George Peppard; conservative commentator Dwight Schultz; and Dirk Benedict, fresh from his role as the original Starbuck on Battlestar Galactica, played a major part, as did the quasi-anti-authoritarian, boyish, blow-’em-up-real-good tone, making it more of a cartoonishly violent kin to MASH than First Blood (1982). The cheeky humor and snappy writing were the real key to The A-Team‘s popularity — the reason impressionable protein units like yours truly tuned in. Director Joe Carnahan (2006’s Smokin’ Aces) and cast seem to have sussed out a bit of that magic, especially when the sun-roasted Bradley Cooper as Faceman and Sharlto Copley as Murdock roll with the what-the-hell non-sequiturs (less sure is the star of last year’s District 9‘s grip on exactly what accent he’s been charged with). But the cinematic version won’t be rehabbing the public’s view of guns-for-hire like Blackwater anytime soon. Liam Neeson lacks the cigar-chomping paternal bravado of Peppard, Quinton “Rampage” Jackson is tasked with the unenviable job of following T time, and the script, complete with the ludicrously elaborate plans and a spark-challenged romance between Cooper and Jessica Biel, is just a rough excuse to watch boys and their toys. (1:57) (Chun)

*Babies Thomas Balmes’ camera records the first year in the lives of four infants in vastly different circumstances. They’re respectively born to hip young couple in Tokyo’s high-tech clutter; familiar moderately alterna-types (the father is director Frazer Bradshaw of last year’s excellent indie drama Everything Strange and New) in SF’s Mission District; a yurt-dwelling family isolated in the vast Mongolian tundra; and a Namibian village so maternally focused that adult menfolk seem to have been banished. Yes, on one level this is the cutest li’l documentary you ever saw. But if you were planning to avoid thinking that is all (or most) of what Babies would be like, you will miss out big time. Void of explanatory titles, voice-over narration, or subtitle translations, this is a purely observatory piece that reveals just how fascinating the business of being a baby is. There’s very little predictable pooping, wailing, or coddling. Instead, Balmes’ wonderful eye captures absorbing moments of sussing things out, decision-making, and skill learning. While the First World tykes firstborns both — are hauled off to (way) pre-school classes, the much less day planned Third Worlders have more complex, unmediated dealings with community. Those range from fending off devilish older siblings to Mongol Bayarjargal’s startlingly casual consorting with large furry livestock. (Imagine the horror of parents you know were their baby found surrounded by massive cows — a situation that here causes no concern whatsoever for adults, children, or bovines.) So accustomed to the camera that it doesn’t influence their behavior, the subjects here are viewed with an intimacy that continually surprises. Babies is getting a wider-than-usual release for a documentary, one cannily timed to coincide with Mother’s Day. But don’t be fooled: this movie is actually very cool. (1:19) Smith Rafael. (Harvey)

*Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky Revered for the innovative fashion house that set the bar for style and was always knocked off but never cut prices for the real deal (and still sniffs at online clothing sales), Gabrielle “Coco” Chanel gets her second biopic, as an artist on par with composer Igor Stravinsky in this rhapsodically sensuous love letter to an unlikely romance. It opens with the designer and future branding legend (depicted with burning eyes and pantherine mystery by Anna Mouglalis) attending the controversial, riot-starting 1913 premiere of Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring in Paris. Recognizing Stravinsky (a viral avant-garde stud-muffin in the hands of Mads Mikkelsen, last in deadlocks and warrior face in Clash of the Titans) as a simpatico radical spirit, Chanel lends her house to the composer. He comes with considerable baggage: a slew of children and a consumptive wife, Katarina (Elena Morozova). Morozova’s performance as the angel-faced earth mother scorned, so blatantly disrespected by the rad lovers madly getting down on the music-room carpet, almost steals the show, but then the house-porn fabulosity of the recreated Chanel villa in Garches — a symbol of their hermetic attraction and shot like a seductive, claustrophobic, black-and-white deco womb — takes over, and we’re back in the thick of CoGor’s somewhat inexplicable affair once again. (1:55) (Chun)

Cyrus It’s tempting to label Mark and Jay Duplass’ Cyrus as “mumblecore goes mainstream.” Yes, the mumblecore elements are all there: plentiful moments of awkward humiliation, characters fumbling verbally and sometimes physically in desperate attempts to establish emotional connections, and a meandering, character-driven plot, in the sense that the characters themselves possess precious little drive. The addition of bona fide indie movie stars John C. Reilly, Catherine Keener, and Marisa Tomei — not to mention Hollywood’s chubby-funny guy du jour, Jonah Hill — could lead some to believe that the DIY-loving Duplass brothers (2005’s The Puffy Chair, 2008’s Baghead) have gone from slacker disciples of John Cassavetes (informally known as “Slackavetes”) to worshippers at the slickly profane (with a heart) altar of Judd Apatow. But despite the presence of Apatow protégé Hill (2007’s Superbad) in the title role, Cyrus steers clear of crowd-pleasing bombast, instead favoring small, relatively naturalistic moments. That is to say, not much actually happens. Mumblecore? More or less. Mainstream? Not exactly. Despite playing a character with some serious psychological issues, Hill comes off as likeable. Unfortunately the movie is neither as broadly comic nor as emotionally poignant as it needs to be — the two opposing forces seem to cancel each other out like acids and bases. (1:32) (Devereaux)

8: The Mormon Proposition (1:30)

*Everyone Else Maren Ade’s Everyone Else is a distinctly modernist romantic comedy — one without air. Gitti (Birgit Minichmayr) and Chris (Lars Eidinger) are on vacation, and failing miserably at basic communication. Everyone Else figures holiday as a stage, in which the principles grasp for their roles in relationship to the other. They are a young, bourgeoisie German couple staying at his parents’ villa in Sardinia. He is a disappointed architect, she a music publicist. Already, though, this capsule betrays the film’s methodical mode of exposition, whereby facts like “his parents’ villa” and “in Sardinia” are realized in conversation, later than we expect. Before then, we’re privy to inner jokes, private nonsense, and gestural rapport. Rather than using such minutiae to ingratiate us into Chris and Gitti’s quirks, Ade is embedding us in the relationship’s interior. We realize how deeply during the course of two dinners with an architect acquaintance and his wife, the first at the new couple’s house and the second at the villa. The other pair stands in for the “everybody else” of the title, and, in their outsized performance as a couple, acts as a convenient cipher for Chris and Gitti’s bottomless insecurities. Chris and Gitti are not cold fish — their passion is intense, if swollen by doubt — but the fact that their relationship’s obstacles are self-imposed leads to a certain captive mentality, in which staying together means being marooned from the outside world. (1:59) (Goldberg)

*Exit Through the Gift Shop Exit Through the Gift Shop is not a film about the elusive graffiti-cum-conceptual artist and merry prankster known as Banksy, even though he takes up a good chunk of this sly and by-no-means impartial documentary and is listed as its director. Rather, as he informs us — voice electronically altered, face hidden in shadow — in the film’s opening minutes, the film’s real subject is one Thierry Guetta, a French expat living in LA whose hangdog eyes, squat stature, and propensity for mutton chops and polyester could pass him off as Ron Jeremy’s long lost twin. Unlike Jeremy, Guetta is not blessed with any prodigious natural talent to propel him to stardom, save for a compulsion to videotape every waking minute of his life (roughly 80 percent of the footage in Exit is Guetta’s) and a knack for being in the right place at the right time. When Guetta is introduced by his tagger cousin to a pre-Obamatized Shepard Fairey in 2007, he realizes his true calling: to make a documentary about the street art scene that was then only starting to get mainstream attention. Enter Banksy, who, at first, is Guetta’s ultimate quarry. Eventually, the two become chummy, with Guetta acting as lookout and documenter for the artist just as the art market starts clambering for its piece of, “the Scarlet Pimpernel of street art,” as one headline dubs him. When, at about three quarters of the way in, Guetta, following Banksy’s casual suggestion, drops his camcorder and tries his hand at making street art, Exit becomes a very different beast. Guetta’s flashy debut as Mr. Brainwash is as obscenely successful as his “art” is terribly unimaginative — much to the chagrin of his former documentary subjects. But Guetta is no Eve Harrington and Banksy, who has the last laugh here, gives him plenty of rope with which to truss himself. Is Mr. Brainwash really the ridiculous and inevitable terminus of street art’s runaway mainstream success (which, it must be said, Banksy has handsomely profited from)? That question begs another: with friends like Banksy, who needs enemies? (1:27) (Sussman)

Get Him to the Greek At this point movie execs can throw producer Judd Apatow’s name on the marquee of a film and it’s a guaranteed blockbuster. It’s hard to say whether this Forgetting Sarah Marshall (2008) spin-off benefits from the Apatow sign of approval or if it would be better off standing on its own, but it definitely doesn’t benefit from comparisons to its predecessor. Russell Brand returns as the British rock star Aldous Snow, and Jonah Hill, playing a different character this time, is given the task of chaperoning the uncooperative Snow from London to LA in 48 hours. Despite a great cast, including a surprisingly animated P. Diddy, the story is pretty bland and can’t match the blend of drama and comedy that Marshall achieved. Of course, none of that matters because the movie execs are right: if you like Apatow’s brand of humor, you’re going to have a good time anyway. (1:49) (Peter Galvin)

*The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo By the time the first of Stieg Larsson’s so-called “Millennium” books had been published anywhere, the series already had an unhappy ending: he died (in 2004). The following year, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo became a Swedish, then eventually international sensation, its sequels following suit. The books are addicting, to say the least; despite their essential crime-mystery-thriller nature, they don’t require putting your ear for writing of some literary value on sleep mode. Now the first of three adaptive features shot back-to-back has reached U.S. screens. (Sorry to say, yes, a Hollywood remake is already in the works — but let’s hope that’s years away.) Even at two-and-a-half hours, this Girl With the Dragon Tattoo by necessity must do some major truncating to pack in the essentials of a very long, very plotty novel. Still, all but the nitpickingest fans will be fairly satisfied, while virgins will have the benefit of not knowing what’s going to happen and getting scared accordingly. Soon facing jail after losing a libel suit brought against him by a shady corporate tycoon, leftie journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Michael Nyqvist) gets a curious private offer to probe the disappearance 40 years earlier of a teenage girl. This entangles him with an eccentric wealthy family and their many closet skeletons (including Nazi sympathies) — as well as dragon-tattooed Lisbeth Salander (Noomi Rapace), androgynous loner, 24-year-old court ward, investigative researcher, and skillful hacker. Director Niels Arden Oplev and his scenarists do a workmanlike job — one more organizational than interpretive, a faithful transcription without much style or personality all its own. Nonetheless, Larsson’s narrative engine kicks in early and hauls you right along to the depot. (2:32) Smith Rafael. (Harvey)

Grown Ups In order of star power, Grown Ups casts Adam Sandler, Kevin James, Chris Rock, Rob Schneider, and David Spade as five fortysomething friends who reunite to attend the funeral of their high school basketball coach, and play catch-up over a long weekend together at a cabin by the lake. If you’re expecting five of America’s biggest comedy stars to form like Voltron and make the most hilarious movie of the year, you’ve got a sad day coming. Grown Ups is never the sum of its parts, it’s about on par with Sandler’s other producing/starring affairs, and probably features a lot of the same jokes. People fall in poop and little kids say cute things designed to make audiences awww, but history has shown that’s exactly what a popcorn viewer is looking for. By these standards, Grown Ups is a perfectly summer-y movie. (1:42) (Galvin)

*I Am Love I Am Love opens in a chilly, Christmastime Milan and deliberately warms in tandem with its characters. Members of the blue-blood Recchi family are content hosting lavish parties and gossiping about one another, none more than the matriarch Emma (Tilda Swinton). But when prodigal son Edoardo befriends a local chef, Emma finds herself taken by both the chef’s food and his everyman personality, and is reminded of her poor Soviet upbringing. The courtship that follows is familiar on paper, but director Luca Guadagnino lenses with a strong style and small scenes acquire a distinct energy through careful editing and John Adams’ unpredictable score. Swinton portrays Emma’s unraveling with the same gritty gusto she brought to Julia (2008), and her commitment to the role recognizes few boundaries. You’ve probably seen this story before, but it has rarely been this powerful. (2:00) (Galvin)

*Iron Man 2 Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) returns, just as rich and self-involved as before, though his ego his inflated to unimaginable heights due to his superheroic fame. Pretty much, he’s put the whole “with great power comes great responsibility” thing on the back burner, exasperating everyone from Girl Friday Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow); to BFF military man Rhodey (Don Cheadle, replacing the first installment’s Terrence Howard); to certain mysterious Marvels played by Samuel L. Jackson and Scarlett Johansson; to a doofus-y rival defense contractor (Sam Rockwell); to a sanctimonius Senator (Garry Shandling). Frankly, the fact that a vengeful Russian scientist (Mickey Rourke) is plotting Tony’s imminent death is a secondary threat here — for much of the film, Tony’s biggest enemy is himself. Fortunately, this is conveyed with enjoyable action (props to director Jon Favreau, who also has a small role), a witty script (actor Justin Theroux — who knew? He also co-wrote 2008’s Tropic Thunder, by the way), and gusto-going performances by everyone, from Downey on down. Stay for the whole credits or miss out on the geek-gasm. (2:05) (Eddy)

Jonah Hex Based on DC’s dark western comics, Jonah Hex is a jumbled mess of mishandled superhero tropes and obligatory attempts at badass-ery. The title character, a grizzled gunfighter with a distinctive facial scar, could be an engaging outsider antihero, but as portrayed by Josh Brolin, he feels neither as cool nor as tortured as we’re clearly expected to believe. The film has a decidedly ’90s feel to it — think overbudgeted, underthought masterpieces like Wild Wild West (1999) — with its farcically fantastical take on post-Civil War supervillainy. Its ridiculous cast of character actors is almost completely squandered, including archvillain John Malkovich, Aidan Quinn as Ulysses S. Grant, and Will Arnett in an inexplicably serious role. Megan Fox is trying the hardest out of the whole cast, but in a rather sleazy move, her character always seems to appear in soft focus. Oh, and there are a few explosions. (1:81) (Sam Stander)

The Karate Kid The most baffling thing about The Karate Kid is its title: little Dre Parker (Jaden Smith) never actually learns karate. He practices kung-fu, an entirely different form of martial arts — you know, from a different country. There’s something obnoxious and absurd about the misnomer: the film seems to suggest that if you’ve seen one Asian culture, you’ve seen them all. That aside, it’s not a bad movie. Smith is mostly pretty likeable, and there’s a definite satisfaction to seeing him grow from bullied weakling to kung-fu star. And Jackie Chan gets to exercise his dramatic chops — he even gets a crying scene! But Karate Kid is a “reboot,” the preferred term for the endless stream of unnecessary remakes Hollywood keeps churning out. You can’t help but think about the superior 1984 version. Jaden Smith is no Ralph Macchio, Jackie Chan is no Pat Morita, and kung-fu is no karate. Don’t even get me started on the “jacket on, jacket off” crap. Which, if you say it quickly, sounds a little adult for a PG movie. (2:20) (Peitzman)

*The Killer Inside Me This January a Sundance controversy broke. The movie in question was eclectic English director Michael Winterbottom’s The Killer Inside Me, the latest screen version of a beloved and spectacularly nasty noir tale by literary pulp hero Jim Thompson. The protest was that the onscreen violence against women was viciously excessive. The accusation is true: in Winterbottom’s film, violence is horribly immediate, sadistic yet matter-of-fact, almost unendurable — everything movie violence almost never is. There’s nothing remotely comfortable about the highly personal, unnecessary cruelty our antihero wreaks. Sheriff Lou Ford (Casey Affleck), a good ol’ boy in his dusty, back-slappy west Texas hometown of the late 1950s, is a world-class sociopath who depends on lazy small-town gullibility and rote suspicion toward outsiders to literally get away with murder. Lou is shagging local Amy (Kate Hudson) — but gets distracted by Joyce (Jessica Alba), a probable prostitute he’s asked to bum rush outta town. Leading ladies Alba and Hudson are widely perceived as spoiled hotties of little talent — hence perfect battering-rams for pulp-machismo movie violence. What’s cool about Winterbottom’s Killer is that it refuses to let you enjoy the abuse they endure, which is viscerally unpleasant as a fist to the gut. It’s abrupt, grueling, and horrific. At once folksy-nostalgic and vicious, The Killer Inside Me is unabashedly about men who hate women. It successfully translates Thompson’s gambit of insinuating us into the seemingly pleasant, reasonable viewpoint of a protagonist we are then surprised to discover is psychotic and without a conscience. Offended Sundance attendees should’ve gotten a clue: deliberately misleading in its pulp-nostalgia trappings, this is one movie that upsets not gratuitously, but exactly as it should. (1:48) (Harvey)

Killers (1:40)

*Knight and Day A Bourne-again Vanilla Sky (2001)? Considerably better than that embarrassingly silly stateside remake, though not quite as fulfilling as director James Mangold’s 3:10 to Yuma (2007) rework, this action caper played for yuks still isn’t the most original article in the cineplex. But coasting on the dazzling Cheshire grins of its stars, Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz, reunited for the first time since Sky, you can just make out the birth of a beautiful new franchise. Everygirl June Havens (Diaz) is on her way to her sister’s wedding when she collides-cute at the airport with Roy Miller (Cruise). After killing the passengers and pilots on their plane, he literally sweeps her off her feet — thanks to some potent drugs. Picture a would-be Bond girl dragged against a spy-vs.-spy thriller semi-against-her-will — grappling with the subtextual anxiety rushing beneath all brief romantic encounters as well as some very justifiable survival fears. Can June overcome her trust issues? Is Roy the man of her dreams — or nightmares? Mangold and company miss a few opportunities to have more fun with those barely teased out ideas, and the polished, adult-yet-far-from-knowing charisma of the leads doesn’t quite live up to sophisticated interplay of Cary Grant and Grace Kelly, or even the down-home fun of Burt Reynolds and Sally Field, but it’s substantial enough for Knight and Day to coast on, for about 90 minutes tops. (2:10) (Chun)

The Last Airbender There must be some M. Night Shyamalan fans out there. How else does one explain the fact that he keeps making movies? And yet, most of his post-Sixth Sense (1999) work has ranged from forgettable to downright reviled. His latest disaster is sure to fall into the latter category: in The Last Airbender, he takes a much-loved Nickelodeon cartoon and transforms it into an awkwardly paced, poorly acted mess. Woefully miscast Noah Ringer stars as Aang, the avatar with the power to end the Fire Nation’s dominion. Along with his friends, siblings Sokka (Jackson Rathbone) and Katara (Nicola Peltz), Aang must — oh, just watch the damn show. For newcomers, the film is as confusing as Shyamalan’s equally self-indulgent Lady in the Water (2006). For fans of the TV show, The Last Airbender is nearly unbearable, condensing the entire first season into one film by removing the humor, the heart, and the complexity of the characters. There’s no twist here — we expect Shyamalan to disappoint, and he does. (1:34) (Peitzman)

Love Ranch “Who do you think you are, the queen of fucking England?” That’s Joe Pesci to Helen Mirren in Love Ranch, a film that takes Mirren about as far as possible from her titular role in 2006’s The Queen. She stars as Grace Botempo, co-owner of Nevada’s first legal brothel alongside her husband, Pesci’s Charlie. The fact that the regal British dame is entirely convincing as an American madam speaks to her impressive versatility. While the movie as a whole is engaging — insofar as it’s a 1970s period piece about legalized prostitution — the plot is mostly predictable. Grace finds herself drawn to the Argentinean prize fighter her husband forces her to manage. In Bruza (Sergio Peris-Mencheta), she gets the attention and appreciation Charlie can no longer offer. In Grace, Bruza gets a woman who looks damn good at 64. Above all else, it’s enjoyable watching Mirren in this context; she gets ravaged by a much younger man, breaks up girl-on-girl fights, and says things like “I’ve got 25 psychotic whores to manage. That’s a full dance card.” Though it has its charmingly trashy moments, it’s doubtful Love Ranch would be worthwhile without her performance. (1:57) (Peitzman)

Micmacs An urge to baby-talk at the screen underlines what is wrong with Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s new film: it is like a precocious child all too aware how to work a room, reprising adorable past behaviors with pushy determination and no remaining spontaneity whatsoever. There will be cooing. There will be clucking. But there will also a few viewers rolling their eyes, thinking “This kid rides my last nerve.” It’s easy to understand why Jeunet’s movies (including 2001’s Amélie) are so beloved, doubtless by many previously allergic to subtitles. (Of course, few filmmakers need dialogue less.) They are eye-candy, and brain-candy too: fantastical, hyper, exotic, appealing to the child within but with dark streaks, byzantine of plot yet requiring no close narrative attention at all. The artistry and craftsmanship are unmissable, no ingenious design or whimsical detail left unemphasized. In Micmacs, hero Bazil (Dany Boon) is a lovable misfit who lost his father to an Algerian landmine, then loses his own job and home when he’s brain-injured by a stray bullet. He falls in with a crazy coterie of lovable misfits who live underground, make wacky contraptions from junk, and each have their own special, not-quite-super “power.” They help him wreak elaborate, fanciful revenge on the greedy arms manufacturers (André Dussollier, Nicolas Marié) behind his misfortunes, as well as various human rights-y global ones. So there’s a message here, couched in fun. But the effect is rather like a birthday clown begging funds for Darfur — or Robert Benigni’s dreaded Life is Beautiful (1997), good intentions coming off a bit hubristic, even distasteful. (1:44) Smith Rafael. (Harvey)

*Ondine You want to believe in mermaids, leprechauns, tooth fairies, and Father Christmas — and director Neil Jordan plays with those hopes, and fears, in this unabashedly romantic fable set in a Irish fishing village. Mullet-ed fisherman Syracuse (Colin Farrell), dubbed “Circus,” thanks to his days as a drinking fool, is the butt of everyone’s jokes till he happens to catch a mysterious girl (Alicja Bachleda) in his net. She calls herself Ondine, shies away from people, and sings in an unknown tongue to the sea, drawing salmon, lobster, and fortune to the fisherman otherwise down on his luck. His precocious daughter, Annie (Alison Barry), is in need of a kidney transplant — and a measure of hope — and she grows convinced that her father’s hidden-away water baby is a selkie, a mythical Celtic sea creature that can shed its seal skin, bond with humans, and make wishes come true. Unfortunately believing in magic doesn’t always make it so, though Ondine gracefully limns that space between belief and reality, squeezing small moments of pleasure and humor from its rough, albeit attractive, characters and absolutely stunning landscapes in scenes beautifully lensed by onetime Wong Kar Wai cinematographer Christopher Doyle. (1:43) (Chun)

*Please Give Manhattan couple Kate (Catherine Keener) and Alex (Oliver Platt) are the proprietors of an up-market vintage furniture store — they troll the apartments of the recently deceased, redistributing the contents at an astonishing markup — and they’ve purchased the entire apartment of their elderly next-door neighbor (Ann Guilbert). As they wait for her to expire so they can knock down a wall, they try not to loom in anticipation in front of her granddaughters, the softly melancholic Rebecca (Rebecca Hall) and the brittle pragmatist Mary (Amanda Peet). Filmmaker Nicole Holofcener has entered this territory before, examining the interpersonal pressures that a sizable income gap can exert in 2006’s Friends with Money. Here she turns to the pangs and blunderings of the liberal existence burdened with the discomforts of being comfortable and the desire to do some good in the world. The film capably explores the unexamined impulses of liberal guilt, though the conclusion it reaches is unsatisfying. Like Holofcener’s other work, Please Give is constructed from the episodic material of mundane, intimate encounters between characters whose complexity forces us to take them seriously, whether or not we like them. Here, though, it offers these private connections as the best one can hope for, a sort of domestic grace accrued by doing right, authentically, instinctively, by the people in your immediate orbit, leaving the larger world to muddle along on its axis as best it can. (1:30) (Rapoport)

*Restrepo Starting mid-’07, journalists-filmmakers Tim Hetherington and Sebastian Junger spent some 15 months off and on embedded with a U.S. Army platoon in Afghanistan’s Korengal Valley, a Taliban stronghold with steep, mountainous terrain that could hardly be more advantageous for snipers. Particularly once a second, even more isolated outpost is built, the soldiers’ days are fraught with tension, whether they’re ordered out into the open on a mission or staying put under frequent fire. Strictly vérité, with no political commentary overt or otherwise, the documentary could be (and has been) faulted for not having enough of a “narrative arc” — as if life often does, particularly under such extreme circumstances. But it’s harrowingly immediate (the filmmakers themselves often have to dive for cover) and revelatory as a glimpse not just of active warfare, but of the near-impossible challenges particular to foreign armed forces trying to make any kind of “progress” in Afghanistan. (1:33) (Harvey)

The Secret in Their Eyes (2:07)

Sex and the City 2 Sex and the City 2 couldn’t be anymore brazenly shameless, dizzyingly shallow, or patently offensive if it tried. This is aspiration porn, pure and simple, kitted out in the Orientalist trappings of a Vogue spread and with all the emotional intelligence of a 12 year-old brat. As the first SATC film nearly made short work of any shred of nuance or humanity that Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, and Miranda carried over from their televised selves, SATC 2 fully embraces the bad pun-spewing, couture-clad clichés the girls have hardened into. Sure they have kids, husbands, career changes, and menopause to deal with, but who cares about those tired signposts of middle age when there is more shit to buy, more champagne to swill, private airlines to fly on, $22,000-a-night luxury suites to inhabit, Helen Reddy songs to butcher, and whole other peoples — specifically, the people of Abu Dhabi, who speak funny, dress funnier, and have craaazy notions about what it means to be “one of the girls” — to alternately boss around, offend, and pity? (Fun SATC2 fact: did you know that in the “new Middle East” women secretly wear designer duds underneath their abayas?) Oh, that one tiny pang of sympathy you feel during the tipsy confessional between Charlotte and Miranda in which they bond over how being a mother and giving up one’s life ambition is difficult? A mirage. Because really, the greater concern is flying back to JFK first class or bust. And let’s not even get into the few bones the film tosses to the homos, such as the opening set piece: a gay wedding only a straight man could’ve thought up, replete with a shopworn Liza Minnelli having her Gene Kelly-in-Xanadu moment. But seriously, Michael Patrick King, don’t get it twisted: Stanford may call it such, but it’s not “cheating” if you’re already in an open relationship. Then again, if being a foil for your straight BFF’s insecurities about the luxe confines of monogamy gets you a gift registry at Bergdorf’s, why not? The laughs are cheaper this time around, but SATC 2‘s fuckery is strictly price-upon-request. (2:24) (Sussman)

Solitary Man Consider this another chapter in a larger recession-era cinematic narrative: a kind of corollary to Up in the Air and another dispatch from the flip side of the American dream — namely, American failure. Wheeling, dealing, disgusting, and charming in turns, Michael Douglas manages the dubious achievement of making a hungry and lecherous BMW dealership honcho compelling, even as we roll our eyeballs in disgust. His Ben Kalmen was once at the top of the world, a fairy-tale self-made star whose luxury auto commercials were all over TV, a sharp-tongued wife (Susan Sarandon) and tenderly tolerant daughter (Jenna Fischer) by his side. After his career lands in the crapper, Ben begins a long climb up, trading favors with his girlfriend Jordan (Mary-Louise Parker) and taking her daughter Allyson (Imogen Poots) to his alma mater for her college interview. During this trip down memory lane he renews his ties with old pal Jimmy (Danny DeVito) and befriends budding schlub Daniel (Jesse Eisenberg), all while making some very bad, reflexively womanizing choices. If you can stomach its morally bereft, perpetually backsliding yet endearingly honest protagonist, you’ll be rewarded with on-point dialogue and a clear-eyed yet empathetic character study concerning the free fall of a self-sabotaging, old-enough-to-know-better prick, individualistic to the core and even more. Is Ben as worthy of a bailout, or a second chance, as the American auto industry? The answer remains up in the air. (1:30) (Chun)

*Splice “If we don’t use human DNA now, someone else will,” declares Elsa (Sarah Polley), the brash young genetic scientist bent on defying the orders of her benign corporate benefactors in Vincenzo Natali’s pseudo-cautionary hybrid love child, Splice. From that moment on, it’s pretty clear that any ethical conundrums the movie raises aren’t really worthy of debate: what Elsa wants to do in the name of scientific progress — splice human DNA into gooey muscle masses to provide said corporation with proteins for gene therapy — is, you know, deranged. Elsa bucks both corporate policy and sound moral judgment and does it anyway, much to the horror of her husband and fellow hotshot research scientist, Clive (Adrien Brody). Her genetic tinkering soon results in the dramatic birth of something akin to a homicidal fetal chick crossed with a skinned bunny. It grows at an alarming rate, and when human characteristics become apparent, Elsa clings to it with the instinctual vigor of a tigress protecting her cub. When Elsa and Clive are forced to hide their creation at Elsa’s abandoned family farmhouse to escape detection from prying corporate eyes, Splice evolves into another kind of hybrid: a genetically engineered Scenes from a Marriage (1973) crossed with the DNA of The Omen (1976) and grafted onto the most very special My So-Called Life episode ever. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Splice may be a ludicrous, cut-rate exercise in Brood-era David Cronenberg — but it’s a damned entertaining one. (1:45) (Devereaux)

Touching Home Hometown boys (Logan and Noah Miller) make good in this based-on-a-true-story tale of identical twins who must divide their time at home between training for major league baseball and looking after their alcoholic father. The brothers, who also wrote and directed the film, aim for David Gordon Green by way of Marin, but fall short of mastering that director’s knack for natural dialogue. Ed Harris is, unsurprisingly, compelling as the alcoholic father, but the actors in the film who are not named Ed Harris tend to contribute to the script’s distracting histrionics. Touching Home has some amazing NorCal cinematography, and I could see how family audiences might enjoy its “feel bad, then feel good” style of melodrama. But while it’s awkward to say that someone’s real-life experiences come off as trite, there are moments here that feel as clichéd as a Lifetime movie. (1:48) Smith Rafael. (Galvin)

*Toy Story 3 You’ve got a friend in Pixar. We all do. The animation studio just can’t seem to make a bad movie — even at its relative worst, a Pixar film is still worlds better than most of what Hollywood churns out. Luckily, Toy Story 3 is far from the worst: it’s actually one of Pixar’s most enjoyable and poignant films yet. Waiting 11 years after the release of Toy Story 2 was, in fact, a stroke of genius, in that it amplifies the nostalgia that runs through so many of the studio’s releases. The kids who were raised on Toy Story and its first sequel have now grown up, gone to college, and, presumably, abandoned their toys. For these twentysomethings, myself included, Toy Story 3 is a uniquely satisfying and heartbreaking experience. While the film itself may not be the instant classic that WALL-E (2008) was, it’s near flawless regardless of a viewer’s age. Warm, funny, and emotionally devastating—it’s Pixar as it should be. (1:49) (Peitzman)

The Twilight Saga: Eclipse The only person more bored by the Twilight franchise than I am is Kristen Stewart. In Eclipse, the third installment of the film series, she mopes her way through further adventures with creepily obsessive vampire Edward (Robert Pattinson). Look, you’re either sold on this star-crossed love story or you’re not, and it’s clear which camp I fall into. Besides, Eclipse is at least better than New Moon, the dreadful Twilight film that preceded it last year. But the story is still ponderous and predictable — Eclipse sets up a conflict and then quickly resolves it, just so it can spend more time on the Bella-Edward-Jacob love triangle. (As if we don’t know how that ends.) Then there’s the unfortunate anti-sex subtext: carnal relations are cast as dirty, wrong, and soul-destroying. I’m not saying we should be encouraging all teenagers to have sex, but that doesn’t mean we should make them feel ashamed of their desires. And what parent would approve of Eclipse‘s conclusion? Marrying your first boyfriend at 18—not always the best move. (2:04) (Peitzman)

*Winter’s Bone Winter’s Bone has already won awards at the Berlin International Film Festival and the Sundance Film Festival, but it’s the kind of downbeat, low-key, quiet film that may elude larger audiences (and, as these things go, Oscar voters). Like Andrea Arnold’s recent Fish Tank, it tells the story of a teenage girl who draws on unlikely reserves of toughness to navigate an unstable family life amid less-than-ideal economic circumstances. And it’s also directed by a woman: Debra Granik, whose previous feature, 2004’s Down to the Bone, starred Vera Farmiga (2009’s Up in the Air) as a checkout clerk trying to balance two kids and a secret coke habit.

Drugs also figure into the plot of the harrowing Winter’s Bone, though its protagonist, Ree Dolly (Jennifer Lawrence), is faced with a different set of circumstances: her meth head father has jumped bail, leaving the family’s humble mountain home as collateral; the two kids at stake are her younger siblings. With no resources other than her own tenacity, Ree strikes out into her rural Missouri community, seeking information from relatives who clearly know where her father is — but ain’t sayin’ a word. It’s a journey fraught with menace, shot with an eye for near-documentary realism and an appreciation for slow-burn suspense; Lawrence anchors a solid cast with her own powerful performance. Who says American independent film is dead? (1:40) (Eddy)

 

Out of work techies, let’s get sexy!

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The message came into City Editor Steve Jones’ voicemail box, but we all figured I should probably follow up on it. Sex conference! Well, kind of. We’re looking for webmasters for sex sites! said the excited publicist on the phone. I thought you might be interested in this exciting event! he said (please note; no quote marks. I do not take good notes on publicists’ voicemails). Well hell yes publicist, I said. Get it girl. I trusted in this so-called Cybernet Expo – which, incidentally, starts Thurs/8 – to yield visions of nerds chasing tail, gettin’ cray-zay, gettin’ jobs. You know, happy, hearty pastimes.

Tell me, oh iconoclastic publicist (tech convention publicists rarely contact us for help for promotion, go fig), who can best illustrate this fabulous phenomenon of randy code writers? Well Caitlin, he says, he says to me, let me track you down someone! A colorful interview, publicist friend of mine? Clearly, he says to me. Have you heard, Caitlin, about Saturday night’s convention-capping Armory party? My god, I had not! Well there’s that, says he the publicist. And you are invited. Well let’s get crazy! I thought contentedly, to myself.

Which is how we come to the part where I made the telephonic acquaintance of a one Terry Mundell, business development manager. Of Kink.com! Gotta be an oversexed, whip-cracking dervish of a man, right? How do you usually find webmasters, Mundell – set up a laptop in the dungeon, see who bites?

“We use Craig’s List, newspaper listings, referrals, conferences,” sayeth the man, who may or may not have been wondering about why he was talking to me about this. Are your techies… sexy techies? Sorry, sorry — sex positive techies? “Typically yes. For the people in production,” Bundell allows me. Well yeah, I’d guess that, because porn directors and cameramen tend to like watching sex. But “for web people, we do stuff in Java. We’ve always just been a dot com, because we’re a technology company,” Bundell sums up. 

Not sure how to caption this one from Cybernet Expo 2009 — hey look like they’re having a successful networking event? Fill in blank, shanks. Photo by J.Kedvessy

Wait, so – but things get wacky at Cybernet Expo, riiight? “There may be some models around, but I don’t think it will be a sexual atmosphere.” K. But the Armory party! You’re having a party at the Armory for the convention! Don’t tell me – “I’m organizing the party. Oh yeah, its going to be a fun. Drinks, appetizers, DJs, local area webmasters will be there, representatives from Hustler and Playboy.” 

So here’s the thing. Well, two things. First, I am an ignorant sensationalist. Second, Cybernet Expo is a job fair more or less like any other. There will be speed networking events, many seminars for learnin’ stuff entitled with things like “Wordpress: Not Just for Blogs” and the (probably?) deceptively titled “Adult Traffic: Where to Get It.”

No, no wait! “Representatives from Hustler and Playboy,” he said; what the hell is that? Money’s on a bunch of naked chicks who will do naughty things if you can code the html on their Myspace pages. Oh, and their keynote speaker is the semi-sleazy – I mean facilitator of the sex positivity of 18-year old women — Steve Lightspeed. Party on, computer guys and gals!

 

Cybernet Expo

Thurs/8-Sat/10, $149-$199

Golden Gateway Hotel

1500 Van Ness, SF

www.cybernetexpo.com 

 

Demon amulets and building codes: a sound installation that’ll “bowl” you over

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At a recent sunny day preview of The Bowls Project at YBCA, I was very confused. I had spoken with Jewlia Eisenberg of the group Charming Hostess a few days earlier on the phone, and she had given me the impression her new sound installation at the gallery was about ancient Babylonian incantation bowls used to summon demons for help in the domestic arena. “I refer to it as apocalyptic intimate,” she told me, “they’re things from the home, but they have angels and demons, things you have to deal with.” She read to me from wild inscriptions she’s found through research on these bowls, which serve as some of our only records of female voices from the era. They include curses against gossips that their “tongue should cling to the roof of their mouths,” calls for Anwar next door to become “inflamed, heated” for the commissioner of the bowl – even an ode to the overthrow of the heavens. It was rad. But there I was, at the YBCA, listening to the description of — a sustainable architecture project?

Michael Ramage is a muscular, clean cut man in an orange Cambridge University sweatshirt. He looks roughly approximate to his profession, which is teacher of architecture and structural engineering at aforementioned school. How he and Jewlia Eisenberg, who is the theatric, charismatic creator of an experimental music ensemble, came together is perhaps testament to the mesmerizing pull of the past.

The two met at MIT, where Ramage was studying the construction of  masonry domes using traditional methods and non traditional materials. Eisenberg was taking part in an artist residency program at the university, and had just discovered the bowls’ existence in a “fusty dissertation from 1972.” She wanted to recreate the bowls’ magic for a modern day audience – how amazing would it be to stage the exhibit in a bowl-like space on which actual inscriptions could be etched? She says she “told [Ramage] about the project, and four years later we’re doing it.”

Many art installations involve some sort of structure to stage the work within, but none I’ve ever seen can match the forethought, and fortitude of The Bowl Projects’ domes. Ramage specializes in a style of building called Catalan vaulting, a school of building perfected thousands of years ago in ancient Egypt, and used well into the approximate modern day by architects like Rafael Guastavino and Gaudi. It requires little by way of materials; the bricks in Catalan vaulting are held up largely by the pressure they exert on each other.

Charming Hostess (Jewlia Eisenberg second from right) is laying down the welcome mat at the Bowls Project. Photo by Robin Hultgren Esprite Photographie

Of course, that was a bit difficult to describe to the Department of Building Inspection, who allowed the structure to be built on two conditions; it be reinforced, somehow, and it be earthquake ready. These seem to have been but piddling roadblocks for Ramage – the architect hit upon a light, sustainably produced mesh to reinforce the air bubble filled concrete bricks, and set the structure atop a remarkable system of bowls (natch) and ball bearings so that, should the big one hit, the whole thing will just roll around and surf the tremors out. The two connected domes form an elegant mix of low-tech, lightweight, and environmentally sound; nearly all the energy expended on the project was powered by human muscle. Prince Charles, Eisenberg told me, wants Ramage to build one like it in the Prince of Wales’ own garden.

Which is all really cool. But what exactly will be happening inside this fabulously produced space (which is for sale after The Bowl Project is packed up in August for what one of the project’s engineers pinned at “a low, low price of we’ll talk about it.” Incidentally, he thought it’d make a great winery tasting room – any takers?) once it opens to the public? Bring it back to the demon bowls. Much as women back in the day would endow the amulets with their domestic secrets, Eisenberg is currently collecting hidden truths from the public on her website and hotline. These will be projected as a 360 degree sound experience within the domes.

But that’s not all. The bowls represent “that ecstatic exploration of sex and magic,” says Eisenberg, and to that end, she hopes they’ll be used for self-reflection and celebration by the community. She’s planned a full slate of musical performances, art workshops, meditation days, and public rituals by such local holy people as the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence for the space. 

So, all kinds of cool stuff. But the truly amazing thing about the Bowl Project may just be that it was made at all. Architects, engineers, union masonry workers who have been contributing their labor pro bono, museum folk; a new band of partners-in-crime for this concept musician. “The collaboration has been intense, and amazing, and I’ve learned a ton,” says Eisenberg. A sentiment which begs for a bowl inscription of its own.

 

The Bowls Project

Opening night ceremony: 

Tues/6 6-8 p.m., free

(through Aug 22, $7 YBCA gallery admission)

Yerba Buena Center for the Arts Sculpture Court

700-701 Mission, SF

(415) 978-2787

www.ybca.org

 

Weird Uncle Jerry

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I’m starting to feel as if Jerry Brown is that strange old uncle who comes over for dinner and says things that make you cringe — and you can’t really tell if he’s just a loveable old character, a bright guy with a weird sense of humor, or someone who’s completely losing his marbles.


Check this out: First he makes a very valid, even insightful statement that’s right on target:


“Were I a CEO and someone said, ‘You know what, I’ve never been in this company, I never saw the product and I want to be a boss,’ I’d say, ‘Hey, why don’t you start at the bottom and work your way up,’ ” he said. “That’s the same way with government — you can’t wake up one morning and say, ‘Gee, I’ve got a billion dollars and I want to be governor.’ You got to learn something because those people up in Sacramento are sharks.”


Then he goes completely off the deep end:


Brown discussed his implementation of Prop. 13 despite his earlier opposition to it, as well as support for the 2nd Amendment and same-sex marriage. He said he opposed efforts to legalize marijuana, which will be on the November ballot.


“We got to compete with China, and if everybody’s stoned, how the hell are we going to make it?” he said.


Jerry, pal, I’ve got news for you: The people who are the most successfully competing with China, the brilliant high-tech visionaries you love so much? They’re already stoned. All we can do now is get some tax money out of it.


Besides, China can’t compete with this:


 


 

Hot sexy events June 30-July 6

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Thank god for this column, which allows me a great forum to come out of the closet. Some people may judge, but fuck em, right? I’m totally, one hundred percent Team Jacob. Yup. I just saw Twilight: Eclipse (the third installation in the “saga”) and I’m gonna go with the NYT on this one, werewolf is the new vampire. Who will the wan protagonist choose, her perma-shirtless Native American werewolf childhood best friend (played by 18-year old eek hottie yay Taylor Lautner), or the near-omnipotent, beyond the grave love of her alabaster vampire betrothed? I’m hella going for Jacob the werewolf, if only on the basis that he is a. alive, b. connected with the earth (all Native Americans are, right?) and c. smoking hot.

Literally! When Bella was freezing to death waiting in her alpine tent, Edward the cold fish vampire could only look on in horror as Jacob the werewolf climbed into her sleeping bag for body temp restoring snuggle time. That being said, if in the next chapter it behooves Edward to get in that sack too… but now we’re talking hypotheticals. Better to get onto this week’s sex events, shall we?

 

Twilight: Eclipse

Why do we make fun of all the Twi-fan teenage girls in the world? There are perhaps less empowering mass marketed fantasies they could obsess over than a young woman teasing two supernatural hotties along at the same time. For example: any of the Britney Spears videos. Sorry, girl. Anyways, get hot and bothered at this innuendo-y bubblegum good time.

Starts Wed/30 in Bay area theaters


Beginner’s Dungeon Class

Just getting into the BDSM scene? This is the 101. Learn how to dress, what you’ll see, how to stay safe, and just what the hell all that leathery code word action could possible mean. Trust me, you don’t want to be caught holding your whip wrong. Que faux pas!

Thurs/1 7:30-10:30 p.m., $10-20

SF Citadel

1277 Mission, SF

www.edukink.org 


How to Choose a Vibrator

Gosh, there’s just so many options. Pearls, shapes, sizes, cost levels, which animal you want your vibrator to look like. Eek! So! Instruct your clitoris’ well being to a doctor. That’s what Good Vibes wants you to do at their “Ask a Doc” free class series. No proof of insurance required!

Thurs/1 6:30-7:30 p.m., free

Good Vibrations 

603 Valencia, SF

(415) 522-5460

www.goodvibes.com


 

Locker Room

Locker Room is abandoning its Wednesday shift, so that’s the bad news. The good news is, that it’s moving to Thursday night – and, if you check your clothes at the door save your jockstrap, your entry in is on the house! So get on someone in the house – and make up for those not-so-fun days of gym class with a sexy, sexy evening.

Thurs/1 9 p.m., free when you strip to your jock

Chaps Bar

1225 Folsom, SF

(415) 225-CHAP

www.chapsbarsanfrancisco.com

 

 

 

 

Threshold 

Getting a little bit rougher than most Mission Control sex parties, but still focusing on the softer side of BDSM, Threshold will feature the tie-me-up, tie-me-down talents of Stefano, Chey, and Nefarious1. Enjoy Mission Control’s various horizontal play structures – maybe even put that stripper pole to use as  a hitching post.

Fri/2 9 p.m.-2 a.m., $20

Mission Control

www.missioncontrolsf.org


Trailer Trash

You know when the hosts suggest you look at www.peopleofwalmart.com for costume suggestions, you’re heading out to a different kind of BDSM bash. What kind of scene will you concoct? A BBQ gone bad? Naughtiness in the camps on NASCAR weekend? Hey wait, I’m not trying to give away all my ideas… 

Sat/3 8 p.m.-1 a.m., $25

SF Citadel

1277 Mission, SF

(415) 626-1746

www.sfcitadel.org

Redneck dawn

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If it left here tomorrow, would you still remember redneck rock? In the 20-tweens, you might hear it rushing through the purple veins of Southern gothic TV: within Jace Everett’s growling poster-boy blues, “Bad Things,” which opens True Blood, and Gangstagrass’ hip-hop-drenched banjo-and-fiddle hillbilly vamp, “Long Hard Times to Come,” the theme to the trigger-happy Justified.

In 1974’s The Improbable Rise of Redneck Rock, author Jan Reid defined the genre as Texan through-and-through, based in irreverently reverent Austin and embodied by Willie Nelson, Kinky Friedman, Janis Joplin, Doug Sahm, Townes Van Zandt, and Billy Joe Shaver. Reid sees the Dixie Chicks, Steve Earle, and Stevie Ray Vaughn as its unlikely descendants, but that’s only one blood line. The rusty dust of redneck rock can also be found rising from the sound of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Simple Man” and “Sweet Home Alabama” and the Allman Brothers’ “Ramblin’ Man” and “Blue Sky” on classic rock radio. Or whenever 38 Special’s soft-rock stab at Top 40 popularity, “Caught Up in You,” pops up, be it in a biker bar or a key girl-power moment from Drew Barrymore’s Whip It. Redneck rock lives wherever the Nuge wanders, crossbow in hand. Do the ghosts of redneck rock lurk wherever Buffalo Bill beards and American Gothic facial hair may roam?

Today, Nashville yields few answers: you’d be hard-pressed to hear anything beyond the “new rock” recent past in the OTT bounce of the Kings of Leon, apart from the sinewy guitar snaking beneath the pelvic thrust of, say, “Sex on Fire.” Though perhaps this year’s watery disaster — evoking the legendary 1927 Mississippi floods that inspired a generation of blues songwriters — will bring in a new wave of soul-searching.

You’re likelier to find remnants of redneck rock in the fiery ambitions of Louisville, Ky., combo My Morning Jacket. Or out west, in the Cali-rock dreams of Howlin Rain and the Portland folk-psych ruminations of Blitzen Trapper. These bands are also fans, unafraid to demonstrate their allegiance to those enlightened rogues the Allmans — shred-savants in the name of “Jessica” and the still-astonishing “Whipping Post” — or the Band, the group whose wide, deep catalog likely has the biggest impact on post-punk’s redneck rockers.

Perhaps it’s a sign of the times, with the recession continuing to bear down unsparingly on the music world, but neither My Morning Jacket, Kings of Leon, nor Howlin Rain has released a studio album since 2008. The exception is Blitzen Trapper. Enigmatic storyteller Eric Earley and company came to most critics’ attention with their third full-length, Wild Mountain Nation (Lidkercow Ltd., 2007). That recording dared to reclaim a kind of back-to-the-backwoods, Green Man-tapped mythos, complete with saintly tramps, critter call-outs, country caravans, and a genuine-dandelion-wine “Wild Mtn. Jam.” The new Destroyer of the Void (Sub Pop) yields further clues to the ensemble’s redneck of the woods.

The four-eyed Minotaur on the cover of Destroyer replaces the spectral Bigfoot skulking through Wild Mountain Nation‘s underbrush and the changeling wolf-boy in the title track of Furr (Sub Pop, 2008). In the opening title track, this Destroyer stalks a spaghetti southwestern dreamscape awash with rolling stones, wayward sons, and other rock ‘n’ roll archetypes, pieced out with harmonies more akin to “Bohemian Rhapsody” than “Good Vibrations.” Is this a rustic-rock mini-opera variant on the Who’s “A Quick One, While He’s Away”? Instead, Blitzen Trapper appears intent on chasing away yawning distractions, the enemy of imagination — bounding over Rockpile hill and dale on “Laughing Lover,” fluttering after acoustic-guitar-glittered butterflies in “Below the Hurricane,” then finally settling down for a tale about “The Man Who Would Speak True,” a protagonist who destroys all who listen with his terrible honesty.

Does this fear point to why Blitzen Trapper prefers to take refuge in a lush, obfuscating thicket of folk tales, rock ‘n’ roll tropes, and unexpected sonic switchbacks? Truth is feared, and healing sanctuary can found in the natural order. No wonder Blitzen Trapper treats its windy musical changes — the roaring fuzz-guitar-and-B-3 overture of “Love and Hate,” the dying trees and elegiac piano and strings of “Heaven and Earth,” and the minor-chord yet blissfully sweet “Dragon’s Song” — as mysterious, unchanging, and impossible to tame.

“Sadie, I can never change,” wails Earley, in a feather-light tip of a cap to “Free Bird”‘s “This bird you cannot change/Lord knows I can’t change.” It’s a slight, very specific turnaround from the proud, loaded declaration of independence hammered out with such lyricism by Skynyrd: Blitzen Trapper stands its ground in fertile soil, part Mississippi Delta and “The Weight,” part A Night at the Opera and Village Green Preservation Society, its melodies — and heart — ever unresolved, its notions semi-nonsensical and wild-eyed.

BLITZEN TRAPPER

With the Moondoggies

Wed/30, 9 p.m., $20

Fillmore

1805 Geary, SF

(415) 346-6000

www.livenation.com

alt.sex.column: Don’t care

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Dear Andrea:

I’m 41 and finally starting to wonder why sex has never been as big a deal for me as it seems to be for most people. Early on in a relationship it’s pretty interesting, but that fades pretty fast (for me, not the guy) and then … nothing. Am I dysfunctional? Or asexual? Is there a pill for this?

Love,

Dreary Doris

Dear Doris:

Sadly, no. I’m a big fan of the quick fix and if there were a pill I would be all over that sucker, but there is not.

Not that people aren’t trying. Female sexual dysfunction is a matter of some keen interest over there in Big Pharma and in the herbal remedies section of the Crunchy Mart. Hippie chick or desperate housewife, everyone wants that pill, and everyone else wants to sell it to them. It’s just, there’s no such thing and possibly never will be. Sigh.

We ‘re forever hearing that some 40 percent of women report some sort of dysfunction or major dissatisfaction. Most are desire disorders and anorgasmia, but true sexual aversion and physical pain are also players. None of these are anywhere near as well-understood as one might wish. There is even some controversy over whether low desire is even dysfunctional as much as just a regular point along the human spectrum. As ever, it’s only a problem if it’s a problem for you.

So, is it possible your low libido is hormonal or caused by a current situation like exhaustion or resentment or a partner’s perceived lack of affection or support? Is it a leftover from some earlier traumatic event or equally desire-snuffing history of bad sex? Where does anorgasmia leave off and lack of interest set in? Is it a woman’s duty to “fix” something she really doesn’t think is broken, just to please a partner? How about to save a marriage?

There is nothing yet available in the way of an “aphrodisiac” for women. Plus, needing to feel loved, respected, desired, and appreciated before the sexual response cycle can fire up is going to be pretty hard to “fix” with a pill. I’d like to own stock in the company that comes up with one, though.

There is no universal aphrodisiac out there. The closest thing we’ve got is testosterone, in that both female and male desire looks to be T-driven at some level. But supplemental hormones are tricky bastards and do weird stuff, and you can’t just throw extra T into the mix and expect it to neatly adjust one system without messing with another. This is serious see-your-doctor stuff.

All this is interesting but beside the point for you. You don’t sound all that dysfunctional; maybe on the cool end of the sexy-o-meter but by no means all the way to “cold fish.” You’re into it enough with a new guy. Are these the wrong guys? Or are you somehow shutting yourself down, or shutting them out? I think this is more about partner choice or relationship skills, yours or theirs, and I know for sure they don’t make a pill for those.

Love,

Andrea

Got a question? Email Andrea at andrea@mail.altsexcolumn.com

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.

THEATER

OPENING

Beijing, California Thick House Theater, 1695 18th St; www.asianamericantheater.org. $15-25. Opens Thurs/2, 8pm. Plays Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 5pm. Through July 17. Asian American Theater Company presents a new play by Paul heller set in the year 2050, when China invades America.

Posibilidad, or Death of the Worker Dolores Park and other sites; 285-1717, www.sfmt.org. Free. Previews Sat/3, 2pm. Opens Sun/4, 2pm. Runs Sat-Sun, Sept 6, 2pm; Sept 17, 8pm. The San Francisco Mime Troupe opens its 51st season with a modern song and tango about politics in the workplace.

BAY AREA

Left of Oz Ashby Stage, 1901 Ashby, Berk; (800) 838-3006, www.brownpapertickets.com. $25-50. Opens Fri/2 8pm. Runs Fri-Sat, 8pm, Sun, 7pm. Through July 18. Stephanie’s Playhouse presents a lez-queer musical comedy following the out west adventures of Dorothy.


ONGOING

Abigail: The Salem Witch Trials Temple SF, 540 Howard; www.templesf.com. $10. July 8, 29, Aug 5, 12, 19, 26, 9pm. Through Aug 26. Buzz Productions, with Skycastle Music and Lunar Eclipse Records, presents an original rock opera based on the Salem witch trials.

*Blackbird: Honoring a Century of Pansy Divas Mama Calizo’s Voice Factory, 1519 Mission; 786-9325, www.evezen.org. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through July 10. The intimate Blackbird Funeral Parlour Speakeasy is somber-toned and deceptively hushed, complete with period furnishings, a see-through dressing room, softly flickering altar, and obligatory piano. Only a few moments into Seth Eisen’s exceptional one-man cabaret, however, and the place is alive and kicking: doleful aspects of the décor making ample room for a sly, vigorous, soulful performer and a completely unexpected journey through some vibrant underground queer history (backed by fellow Circo Zero alum Sean Feit’s sharp musical direction and breezy accompaniment, and Alanna Simone’s gently humorous and haunting video pieces). Your guide is 100-year-old Jean Marlin, author of the notorious 1930s Pansy Craze, 75 years dead and looking fabulous in tails, bold green cravat, dapper purple hankie and a topping of regal black plumage (costumer Jack Davis demonstrates a genius throughout for turning a shoestring budget into a G-string–supported extravaganza). A multifaceted performer with quick tongue, nimble steps, and hearty voice (giving life to an assortment of extraordinary songs), Eisen uses drag, dance, puppetry, and performance art techniques to give flight to worthy exotic blackbirds known and forgotten—drag queen Zen priest Tommy Issan Dorsey; sexually ambiguous Danny Kaye; Brazil’s inimitable Ney Matogrosso; the definitely outré Klaus Nomi; and disco treasure Sylvester, whose live rendition of the Beatles’ "Blackbird" at SF’s War Memorial Opera House is one of several standout moments in this rollicking and poignant act of resurrection, insurrection, and homage. (Avila)

Die Walküre War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness, SF; www.sfopera.com. $15-360. Wed/30, 7pm. Through Wed/30. San Francisco Opera presents the second installment of Wagner’s Ring cycle, directed by Francesca Zambello.

"Durang Me!" Next Stage, 1620 Gough; 1-800-838-3006, www.custommade.org. $10-28. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through July 10. Christopher Durang’s The Actor’s Nightmare could just as easily be called The Accountant’s Nightmare, as befuddled Everyman and presumed non-actor George Spelvin (Eric O’ Kelly) attempts to navigate his way out of a confused rendition of Noel Coward’s "Private Lives" dressed as Prince Hamlet and menaced by a trashcan-bearing Beckett-arian (AJ Davenport). This traditional companion piece to Durang’s Catholic School send-up Sister Mary Ignatius Explains It All for You references a Catholic boyhood several times, but it is the anxiety of the present moment that prevails, as the stage clears, and Spelvin is chased into a corner by an unforgiving spotlight to deliver his frantic last-ditch attempt at a soliloquy: his ABC’s. The titular Sister Mary Ignatius (AJ Davenport), by turns arctic and expansive, attempts to explain all, while periodically trotting out her star pupil Thomas (Cole Cloud) to recite catechism and spell eck-u-men-ickle for cookies. Davenport plays the pedantic side of Sister Mary with humorous vigor, but when a group of her former students drop by "to embarrass her" she doesn’t quite pull off embodying the ogress of their now-adult nightmares. Of her former students, it is probably Aloysius Benheim (Eric O’Kelly) who comes across as the most damaged by her tyranny, and not coincidentally, suffers the piece’s greatest humiliation. (Nicole Gluckstern)

La Fanciulla Del West War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness; www.sfopera.com. $15-360. Fri/2, 8pm. Through Fri/2. San Francisco Opera presents Puccini’s opera, with Deborah Voigt as Minnie.

How the Other Half Loves Phoenix Theatre, 414 Mason; (800) 838-3006, www.offbroadwaywest.org. $35, Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through July 31. Off Broadway West Theatre Company presents an early play by Alan Ayckbourn.

Krapp’s Last Tape Exit on Taylor, 277 Taylor; 1-800-838-3006, www.cuttingball.com. $15-30. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through Sat/3. Cutting Ball Theater remounts its strong recent production of Samuel Beckett’s hour-long solo play, featuring a full-fledged and satisfying turn by a hearty, slyly comic Paul Gerrior as the titular Krapp, reflecting on the fleeting sense of self recorded on reel-to-reel tapes over the course of a long life. Artistic director Rob Melrose approaches the material with supreme assurance and passionate but never stifling fidelity. David Sinaiko provides the recorded voice of the younger Krapp, expertly balancing a passion and unselfconscious pomposity that has Gerrior’s Krapp alternately bemused, euphoric, and wincing through one of Beckett’s most autobiographical and surprisingly affirming pieces. Melrose’s choice use of scenic elements, meanwhile, including the palpably solid 1950s-era tape machine, places Gerrior (suitably odd and natty in costumer Maggie Whitaker’s dapper vest, high-water trousers and white shoes) in a kind of communion with the reel and the real—an affecting and quietly unsettling relationship, pitched against an infinite blackness all around, that has Krapp at one point resting his head gently on the machine as he and the insubstantial voice of his younger self relive a moment of intimacy with a long-gone lover. (Avila)

The New Century New Conservatory Theatre Center, 25 Van Ness, SF; 861-8972, www.nctcsf.org. $22-40. Wed-Sat, 8pm; July 11, 2pm. Through July 11. New Conservatory Theatre Center performs Paul Rudnick’s bill of short comedies.

Peter Pan Threesixty Theater, Ferry Park (on Embarcadero across from the Ferry Bldg); www.peterpantheshow.com. $30-125. Tues and Thurs, 7pm; Fri-Sat, 7:30pm (also Sat, 2pm); Wed, 2pm; Sun, 1 and 5pm. Through August 29. JM Barrie’s tale is performed in a specially-built 360-degree CGI theater.

Reading My Dad’s Porn and French Kissing the Dog The Marsh Studio Theater, 1074 Valencia; (800) 838-3006, www.themarsh.org. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through July 17. The title of San Francisco writer-performer Cherry Zonkowski’s confessional solo show gives only a little away—a passing detail from the Nordic diversions of a spirited army brat and daughter of an alcoholic father—but the rest of the narrative leaves even less to the imagination. An account of Zonkowski’s initiation into the sex party and BDSM scene, Reading My Dad’s Porn bounces gleefully between comically graphic depictions of sweaty, writhing Bay Area meet-and-greets and a childhood and young adulthood buried in family dysfunction, a loveless marriage, and the grueling teaching load of a recent English PhD. Ultimately, it’s the story of a woman finding her own identity and community, and if the outlines sound familiar they also feel that way. The straightforward plot—peppered with humorous details and asides (as well as the odd song, accompanied by accordionist Salane Schultz, alternating nights with Aaron Seeman)—lacks both urgency and characters of much complexity. The story’s patina of outré sex, meanwhile, is far from revelatory and too superficial and jokey to offer much dramatic heft. Nevertheless, the show, developed with director David Ford, draws a limited appeal from the force of Zonkowski’s extroverted personality, whose orientation sexual and otherwise skews toward fun—although her more aggressive attempts to corral the audience into participating (mainly vocally) in the show’s narrative high jinx may put some off even more than the fisting by the snack table. (Avila)

What Mama Said About Down There Our Little Theater, 287 Ellis; 820-3250, www.theatrebayarea.org. $15-25. Thurs-Sun, 8pm. Through August 28. Writer-performer-activist Sia Amma presents this largely political, a bit clinical, inherently sexual, and utterly unforgettable performance piece.

BAY AREA

The Drawer Boy Marion E. Greene Black Box Theatre, 531 19th St, Oakl. www.brownpapertickets.com. $10. Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2pm. Through Sun/4. TheatreFIRST presents Michael Healey’s comedy about two aging farmers with a family secret.

*East 14th: True Tales of a Reluctant Player Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston, Berk; www.themarsh.org. $20-50. Sat/3, July 24, 31, 8pm; July 18, 25, Aug 1, 7pm; Fri/ 2, July 9, 16, 9pm. Through August 1. Don Reed’s solo play, making its Oakland debut after an acclaimed New York run, is truly a welcome homecoming twice over. (Avila)

"Fireworks Festival" Berkeley Repertory Theatre, Thrust Stage, 2025 Addison, Berk; (510) 647-2949, www.berkeleyrep.org. $25-35. Through Sat/3, showtimes vary. This performance festival includes work by John Leguizamo, David Sedaris (whose show is already sold out), Dan Hoyle, and Wes "Scoop" Nisker.

Les Liasons Dangereuses Redwood Ampitheatre, 30 Sir Francis Drake, Ross; (415) 251-1027, www.porchlight.net. $15-30. Thurs-Sun, 7:30pm; also July 7, 7:30pm. Through July 10. Porchlight Theatre Company presents a production of Christopher Hampton’s adaptation of the 1782 novel.

Loveland The Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston, Berk; (800) 838-3006, www.themarsh.org. $25-50. Fri/ 2, 9, 7pm; Sat/3, 5pm; July 11, 2pm. Through July 11. Ann Randolph’s comic solo show about an irreverent woman’s trip back to her childhood home in Ohio.

Shaker Chair Pear Avenue Theatre, 1220 Pear Avenue, Mtn View; (800) 838-3006, www.brownpapertickets.com. $15-30. Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2pm (also July 10, 2pm; no performance Sun/4). Through July 11. Pear Avenue Theatre presents Adam Bock’s play about a middle-aged widow who applies Shaker philosophy to her lifestyle.

Speech & Debate Aurora Theatre, 2081 Addison, Berk; www.auroratheatre.org. $34-55. Wed-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2pm, 7pm; Tues, 7pm. Through July 18. Aurora Theatre closes its 18th season with Stephen Karam’s comedy about three teen misfits connected to a small town sex scandal.


PERFORMANCE/DANCE

BATS Improv Theatre Bayfront Theater, Fort Mason Center, B350 Fort Mason; 474-6776, www.improv.org. Fri-Sat, 8pm. Through July 31. Bay Area Theatresports presents an evening of theater and comedy.

The Bowls Project: Secrets of the Apocalyptic Intimate Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, Sculpture Court, 701 Mission; 978-2787, www.ybca.org. Tues/6, 6-8pm, free. Through August 22. Charming Hostess presents a series of performances in conjunction with an interactive sound sculpture.

Hannibal Buress Rickshaw Stop, 155 Fell; 861-2011, www.rickshawstop.com. Wed/30, 8pm. $12. The Saturday Night Live writer performs along with W. Kamau Bell and Jen Slusser.

Curtain Up! The Life and Times of Ethel Merman Martuni’s, 4 Valencia; 241-0205, www.dragatmartunis.com. Wed/30, 7pm. Tom Shaw Trip presents an evening devoted to the famous indomitable diva.

Kinsey Sicks: Each Hit & I Rrazz Room, 222 Mason; (866) 468-3399, www.theRRazzroom.com. Tues/6, 7pm. $35-40. An all new musical revue with parodies of Katy perry and others.

Liz Grant Variety Pack Comedy Show Purple Onion, 140 Columbus; 200-8781, www.brownpapertickets.com. Fri, 4:30pm. Through Sept 3. $10. A changing lineup of stand up comedy.

Qcomedy Showcase Martuni’s, 4 Valencia; 241-0205, www.Qcomedy.com. Mon, 5pm. A weekly show of queer comedy.

The Romane Event Make Out Room, 3225 22nd St; 647-2888, www.pacoromane.com. Wed/30, 7:30pm. $7. A comedy event led by SF comedian Paco Romane.

BAY AREA
Backroom Comedy 5332 College, Oakl; (510) 655-3929, www.candychurilla.com. Wed/30, 8pm. Free, A stand up comedy show hosted by Candy Churilla.

Film listings

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Film listings are edited by Cheryl Eddy. Reviewers are Kimberly Chun, Michelle Devereaux, Max Goldberg, Dennis Harvey, Johnny Ray Huston, Erik Morse, Louis Peitzman, Lynn Rapoport, Ben Richardson, and Matt Sussman. For rep house showtimes, see Rep Clock. For first-run showtimes, see Movie Guide.

OPENING

*Everyone Else See "Nobody But You." (1:59) Lumiere, Shattuck.

The Last Airbender Millions of people out of work, and M. Night Shyamalan is still making movies. (1:34) Presidio.

Love Ranch See "Madam Majesty." (1:57) Embarcadero.

*Restrepo Starting mid-’07, journalists-filmmakers Tim Hetherington and Sebastian Junger spent some 15 months off and on embedded with a U.S. Army platoon in Afghanistan’s Korengal Valley, a Taliban stronghold with steep, mountainous terrain that could hardly be more advantageous for snipers. Particularly once a second, even more isolated outpost is built, the soldiers’ days are fraught with tension, whether they’re ordered out into the open on a mission or staying put under frequent fire. Strictly vérité, with no political commentary overt or otherwise, the documentary could be (and has been) faulted for not having enough of a "narrative arc" — as if life often does, particularly under such extreme circumstances. But it’s harrowingly immediate (the filmmakers themselves often have to dive for cover) and revelatory as a glimpse not just of active warfare, but of the near-impossible challenges particular to foreign armed forces trying to make any kind of "progress" in Afghanistan. (1:33) Bridge. (Harvey)

The Twilight Saga: Eclipse Another one already? Jeez. (2:04) California, Shattuck, Sundance Kabuki.

ONGOING

The A-Team Why was the original A-Team the most popular band of mercenaries on TV? The estimable chemistry and comedic skills of Mr. T; legit Breakfast at Tiffany‘s star George Peppard; conservative commentator Dwight Schultz; and Dirk Benedict, fresh from his role as the original Starbuck on Battlestar Galactica, played a major part, as did the quasi-anti-authoritarian, boyish, blow-’em-up-real-good tone, making it more of a cartoonishly violent kin to MASH than First Blood (1982). The cheeky humor and snappy writing were the real key to The A-Team‘s popularity — the reason impressionable protein units like yours truly tuned in. Director Joe Carnahan (2006’s Smokin’ Aces) and cast seem to have sussed out a bit of that magic, especially when the sun-roasted Bradley Cooper as Faceman and Sharlto Copley as Murdock roll with the what-the-hell non-sequiturs (less sure is the star of last year’s District 9‘s grip on exactly what accent he’s been charged with). But the cinematic version won’t be rehabbing the public’s view of guns-for-hire like Blackwater anytime soon. Liam Neeson lacks the cigar-chomping paternal bravado of Peppard, Quinton "Rampage" Jackson is tasked with the unenviable job of following T time, and the script, complete with the ludicrously elaborate plans and a spark-challenged romance between Cooper and Jessica Biel, is just a rough excuse to watch boys and their toys. (1:57) 1000 Van Ness, SF Center. (Chun)

*Babies Thomas Balmes’ camera records the first year in the lives of four infants in vastly different circumstances. They’re respectively born to hip young couple in Tokyo’s high-tech clutter; familiar moderately alterna-types (the father is director Frazer Bradshaw of last year’s excellent indie drama Everything Strange and New) in SF’s Mission District; a yurt-dwelling family isolated in the vast Mongolian tundra; and a Namibian village so maternally focused that adult menfolk seem to have been banished. Yes, on one level this is the cutest li’l documentary you ever saw. But if you were planning to avoid thinking that is all (or most) of what Babies would be like, you will miss out big time. Void of explanatory titles, voice-over narration, or subtitle translations, this is a purely observatory piece that reveals just how fascinating the business of being a baby is. There’s very little predictable pooping, wailing, or coddling. Instead, Balmes’ wonderful eye captures absorbing moments of sussing things out, decision-making, and skill learning. While the First World tykes firstborns both — are hauled off to (way) pre-school classes, the much less day planned Third Worlders have more complex, unmediated dealings with community. Those range from fending off devilish older siblings to Mongol Bayarjargal’s startlingly casual consorting with large furry livestock. (Imagine the horror of parents you know were their baby found surrounded by massive cows — a situation that here causes no concern whatsoever for adults, children, or bovines.) So accustomed to the camera that it doesn’t influence their behavior, the subjects here are viewed with an intimacy that continually surprises. Babies is getting a wider-than-usual release for a documentary, one cannily timed to coincide with Mother’s Day. But don’t be fooled: this movie is actually very cool. (1:19) Shattuck, Smith Rafael. (Harvey)

*Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky Revered for the innovative fashion house that set the bar for style and was always knocked off but never cut prices for the real deal (and still sniffs at online clothing sales), Gabrielle "Coco" Chanel gets her second biopic, as an artist on par with composer Igor Stravinsky in this rhapsodically sensuous love letter to an unlikely romance. It opens with the designer and future branding legend (depicted with burning eyes and pantherine mystery by Anna Mouglalis) attending the controversial, riot-starting 1913 premiere of Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring in Paris. Recognizing Stravinsky (a viral avant-garde stud-muffin in the hands of Mads Mikkelsen, last in deadlocks and warrior face in Clash of the Titans) as a simpatico radical spirit, Chanel lends her house to the composer. He comes with considerable baggage: a slew of children and a consumptive wife, Katarina (Elena Morozova). Morozova’s performance as the angel-faced earth mother scorned, so blatantly disrespected by the rad lovers madly getting down on the music-room carpet, almost steals the show, but then the house-porn fabulosity of the recreated Chanel villa in Garches — a symbol of their hermetic attraction and shot like a seductive, claustrophobic, black-and-white deco womb — takes over, and we’re back in the thick of CoGor’s somewhat inexplicable affair once again. (1:55) Shattuck, Sundance Kabuki. (Chun)

Cyrus It’s tempting to label Mark and Jay Duplass’ Cyrus as "mumblecore goes mainstream." Yes, the mumblecore elements are all there: plentiful moments of awkward humiliation, characters fumbling verbally and sometimes physically in desperate attempts to establish emotional connections, and a meandering, character-driven plot, in the sense that the characters themselves possess precious little drive. The addition of bona fide indie movie stars John C. Reilly, Catherine Keener, and Marisa Tomei — not to mention Hollywood’s chubby-funny guy du jour, Jonah Hill — could lead some to believe that the DIY-loving Duplass brothers (2005’s The Puffy Chair, 2008’s Baghead) have gone from slacker disciples of John Cassavetes (informally known as "Slackavetes") to worshippers at the slickly profane (with a heart) altar of Judd Apatow. But despite the presence of Apatow protégé Hill (2007’s Superbad) in the title role, Cyrus steers clear of crowd-pleasing bombast, instead favoring small, relatively naturalistic moments. That is to say, not much actually happens. Mumblecore? More or less. Mainstream? Not exactly. Despite playing a character with some serious psychological issues, Hill comes off as likeable. Unfortunately the movie is neither as broadly comic nor as emotionally poignant as it needs to be — the two opposing forces seem to cancel each other out like acids and bases. (1:32) California, Metreon. (Devereaux)

8: The Mormon Proposition (1:30) Elmwood, Sundance Kabuki.

*Exit Through the Gift Shop Exit Through the Gift Shop is not a film about the elusive graffiti-cum-conceptual artist and merry prankster known as Banksy, even though he takes up a good chunk of this sly and by-no-means impartial documentary and is listed as its director. Rather, as he informs us — voice electronically altered, face hidden in shadow — in the film’s opening minutes, the film’s real subject is one Thierry Guetta, a French expat living in LA whose hangdog eyes, squat stature, and propensity for mutton chops and polyester could pass him off as Ron Jeremy’s long lost twin. Unlike Jeremy, Guetta is not blessed with any prodigious natural talent to propel him to stardom, save for a compulsion to videotape every waking minute of his life (roughly 80 percent of the footage in Exit is Guetta’s) and a knack for being in the right place at the right time. When Guetta is introduced by his tagger cousin to a pre-Obamatized Shepard Fairey in 2007, he realizes his true calling: to make a documentary about the street art scene that was then only starting to get mainstream attention. Enter Banksy, who, at first, is Guetta’s ultimate quarry. Eventually, the two become chummy, with Guetta acting as lookout and documenter for the artist just as the art market starts clambering for its piece of, "the Scarlet Pimpernel of street art," as one headline dubs him. When, at about three quarters of the way in, Guetta, following Banksy’s casual suggestion, drops his camcorder and tries his hand at making street art, Exit becomes a very different beast. Guetta’s flashy debut as Mr. Brainwash is as obscenely successful as his "art" is terribly unimaginative — much to the chagrin of his former documentary subjects. But Guetta is no Eve Harrington and Banksy, who has the last laugh here, gives him plenty of rope with which to truss himself. Is Mr. Brainwash really the ridiculous and inevitable terminus of street art’s runaway mainstream success (which, it must be said, Banksy has handsomely profited from)? That question begs another: with friends like Banksy, who needs enemies? (1:27) Lumiere. (Sussman)

Get Him to the Greek At this point movie execs can throw producer Judd Apatow’s name on the marquee of a film and it’s a guaranteed blockbuster. It’s hard to say whether this Forgetting Sarah Marshall (2008) spin-off benefits from the Apatow sign of approval or if it would be better off standing on its own, but it definitely doesn’t benefit from comparisons to its predecessor. Russell Brand returns as the British rock star Aldous Snow, and Jonah Hill, playing a different character this time, is given the task of chaperoning the uncooperative Snow from London to LA in 48 hours. Despite a great cast, including a surprisingly animated P. Diddy, the story is pretty bland and can’t match the blend of drama and comedy that Marshall achieved. Of course, none of that matters because the movie execs are right: if you like Apatow’s brand of humor, you’re going to have a good time anyway. (1:49) Empire, Four Star, 1000 Van Ness, Presidio, SF Center, Shattuck, Sundance Kabuki. (Peter Galvin)

*The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo By the time the first of Stieg Larsson’s so-called "Millennium" books had been published anywhere, the series already had an unhappy ending: he died (in 2004). The following year, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo became a Swedish, then eventually international sensation, its sequels following suit. The books are addicting, to say the least; despite their essential crime-mystery-thriller nature, they don’t require putting your ear for writing of some literary value on sleep mode. Now the first of three adaptive features shot back-to-back has reached U.S. screens. (Sorry to say, yes, a Hollywood remake is already in the works — but let’s hope that’s years away.) Even at two-and-a-half hours, this Girl With the Dragon Tattoo by necessity must do some major truncating to pack in the essentials of a very long, very plotty novel. Still, all but the nitpickingest fans will be fairly satisfied, while virgins will have the benefit of not knowing what’s going to happen and getting scared accordingly. Soon facing jail after losing a libel suit brought against him by a shady corporate tycoon, leftie journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Michael Nyqvist) gets a curious private offer to probe the disappearance 40 years earlier of a teenage girl. This entangles him with an eccentric wealthy family and their many closet skeletons (including Nazi sympathies) — as well as dragon-tattooed Lisbeth Salander (Noomi Rapace), androgynous loner, 24-year-old court ward, investigative researcher, and skillful hacker. Director Niels Arden Oplev and his scenarists do a workmanlike job — one more organizational than interpretive, a faithful transcription without much style or personality all its own. Nonetheless, Larsson’s narrative engine kicks in early and hauls you right along to the depot. (2:32) Clay, Four Star, Piedmont, Shattuck, Smith Rafael. (Harvey)

Grown Ups In order of star power, Grown Ups casts Adam Sandler, Kevin James, Chris Rock, Rob Schneider, and David Spade as five fortysomething friends who reunite to attend the funeral of their high school basketball coach, and play catch-up over a long weekend together at a cabin by the lake. If you’re expecting five of America’s biggest comedy stars to form like Voltron and make the most hilarious movie of the year, you’ve got a sad day coming. Grown Ups is never the sum of its parts, it’s about on par with Sandler’s other producing/starring affairs, and probably features a lot of the same jokes. People fall in poop and little kids say cute things designed to make audiences awww, but history has shown that’s exactly what a popcorn viewer is looking for. By these standards, Grown Ups is a perfectly summer-y movie. (1:42) Empire, Marina, 1000 Van Ness, Shattuck. (Peter Galvin)

Have You Heard from Johannesburg? The best word to describe Connie Field’s Have You Heard From Johannesburg? is "impressive." At eight-and-a-half hours, the seven-part documentary series spans nearly five decades of the South African anti-apartheid movement. The individual films are well-researched and thought-provoking. The stories are compelling — that is, until you put them all together. The complete series is just too long for those without a strong, vested interest in South African history. It’s simply not approachable for the mainstream, and the approximately three-hour chunks it’s meant to be consumed in are daunting. These films are better suited to a televised series, where viewers could appreciate hearing about anti-apartheid pioneers like Oliver Tambo and Desmond Tutu in smaller, digestible bites. As it stands, Field’s documentary is not likely to find a wide audience — a real pity, given the 10 years of effort she put into it, and the importance of sharing the South African struggle for equality with the rest of the world. (8:30) Roxie, Smith Rafael. (Peitzman)

*I Am Love I Am Love opens in a chilly, Christmastime Milan and deliberately warms in tandem with its characters. Members of the blue-blood Recchi family are content hosting lavish parties and gossiping about one another, none more than the matriarch Emma (Tilda Swinton). But when prodigal son Edoardo befriends a local chef, Emma finds herself taken by both the chef’s food and his everyman personality, and is reminded of her poor Soviet upbringing. The courtship that follows is familiar on paper, but director Luca Guadagnino lenses with a strong style and small scenes acquire a distinct energy through careful editing and John Adams’ unpredictable score. Swinton portrays Emma’s unraveling with the same gritty gusto she brought to Julia (2008), and her commitment to the role recognizes few boundaries. You’ve probably seen this story before, but it has rarely been this powerful. (2:00) Albany, Embarcadero, Sundance Kabuki. (Galvin)

*Iron Man 2 Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) returns, just as rich and self-involved as before, though his ego his inflated to unimaginable heights due to his superheroic fame. Pretty much, he’s put the whole "with great power comes great responsibility" thing on the back burner, exasperating everyone from Girl Friday Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow); to BFF military man Rhodey (Don Cheadle, replacing the first installment’s Terrence Howard); to certain mysterious Marvels played by Samuel L. Jackson and Scarlett Johansson; to a doofus-y rival defense contractor (Sam Rockwell); to a sanctimonius Senator (Garry Shandling). Frankly, the fact that a vengeful Russian scientist (Mickey Rourke) is plotting Tony’s imminent death is a secondary threat here — for much of the film, Tony’s biggest enemy is himself. Fortunately, this is conveyed with enjoyable action (props to director Jon Favreau, who also has a small role), a witty script (actor Justin Theroux — who knew? He also co-wrote 2008’s Tropic Thunder, by the way), and gusto-going performances by everyone, from Downey on down. Stay for the whole credits or miss out on the geek-gasm. (2:05) 1000 Van Ness. (Eddy)

*Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work Whether you’re a fan of its subject or not, Ricki Stern and Annie Sundberg’s documentary is an absorbing look at the business of entertainment, a demanding treadmill that fame doesn’t really make any easier. At 75, comedian Rivers has four decades in the spotlight behind her. Yet despite a high Q rating she finds it difficult to get the top-ranked gigs, no matter that as a workaholic who’ll take anything she could scarcely be more available. Funny onstage (and a lot ruder than on TV), she’s very, very focused off-, dismissive of being called a "trailblazer" when she’s still actively competing with those whose women comics trail she blazed for today’s hot TV guest spot or whatever. Anyone seeking a thorough career overview will have to look elsewhere; this vérité year-in-the-life portrait is, like the lady herself, entertainingly and quite fiercely focused on the here-and-now. (1:24) Embarcadero, Piedmont, Shattuck, Smith Rafael. (Harvey)

Jonah Hex Based on DC’s dark western comics, Jonah Hex is a jumbled mess of mishandled superhero tropes and obligatory attempts at badass-ery. The title character, a grizzled gunfighter with a distinctive facial scar, could be an engaging outsider antihero, but as portrayed by Josh Brolin, he feels neither as cool nor as tortured as we’re clearly expected to believe. The film has a decidedly ’90s feel to it — think overbudgeted, underthought masterpieces like Wild Wild West (1999) — with its farcically fantastical take on post-Civil War supervillainy. Its ridiculous cast of character actors is almost completely squandered, including archvillain John Malkovich, Aidan Quinn as Ulysses S. Grant, and Will Arnett in an inexplicably serious role. Megan Fox is trying the hardest out of the whole cast, but in a rather sleazy move, her character always seems to appear in soft focus. Oh, and there are a few explosions. (1:81) 1000 Van Ness. (Sam Stander)

The Karate Kid The most baffling thing about The Karate Kid is its title: little Dre Parker (Jaden Smith) never actually learns karate. He practices kung-fu, an entirely different form of martial arts — you know, from a different country. There’s something obnoxious and absurd about the misnomer: the film seems to suggest that if you’ve seen one Asian culture, you’ve seen them all. That aside, it’s not a bad movie. Smith is mostly pretty likeable, and there’s a definite satisfaction to seeing him grow from bullied weakling to kung-fu star. And Jackie Chan gets to exercise his dramatic chops — he even gets a crying scene! But Karate Kid is a "reboot," the preferred term for the endless stream of unnecessary remakes Hollywood keeps churning out. You can’t help but think about the superior 1984 version. Jaden Smith is no Ralph Macchio, Jackie Chan is no Pat Morita, and kung-fu is no karate. Don’t even get me started on the "jacket on, jacket off" crap. Which, if you say it quickly, sounds a little adult for a PG movie. (2:20) 1000 Van Ness, SF Center. (Peitzman)

*The Killer Inside Me This January a Sundance controversy broke. The movie in question was eclectic English director Michael Winterbottom’s The Killer Inside Me, the latest screen version of a beloved and spectacularly nasty noir tale by literary pulp hero Jim Thompson. The protest was that the onscreen violence against women was viciously excessive. The accusation is true: in Winterbottom’s film, violence is horribly immediate, sadistic yet matter-of-fact, almost unendurable — everything movie violence almost never is. There’s nothing remotely comfortable about the highly personal, unnecessary cruelty our antihero wreaks. Sheriff Lou Ford (Casey Affleck), a good ol’ boy in his dusty, back-slappy west Texas hometown of the late 1950s, is a world-class sociopath who depends on lazy small-town gullibility and rote suspicion toward outsiders to literally get away with murder. Lou is shagging local Amy (Kate Hudson) — but gets distracted by Joyce (Jessica Alba), a probable prostitute he’s asked to bum rush outta town. Leading ladies Alba and Hudson are widely perceived as spoiled hotties of little talent — hence perfect battering-rams for pulp-machismo movie violence. What’s cool about Winterbottom’s Killer is that it refuses to let you enjoy the abuse they endure, which is viscerally unpleasant as a fist to the gut. It’s abrupt, grueling, and horrific. At once folksy-nostalgic and vicious, The Killer Inside Me is unabashedly about men who hate women. It successfully translates Thompson’s gambit of insinuating us into the seemingly pleasant, reasonable viewpoint of a protagonist we are then surprised to discover is psychotic and without a conscience. Offended Sundance attendees should’ve gotten a clue: deliberately misleading in its pulp-nostalgia trappings, this is one movie that upsets not gratuitously, but exactly as it should. (1:48) Shattuck, Sundance Kabuki. (Harvey)

Killers (1:40) 1000 Van Ness.

*Knight and Day A Bourne-again Vanilla Sky (2001)? Considerably better than that embarrassingly silly stateside remake, though not quite as fulfilling as director James Mangold’s 3:10 to Yuma (2007) rework, this action caper played for yuks still isn’t the most original article in the cineplex. But coasting on the dazzling Cheshire grins of its stars, Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz, reunited for the first time since Sky, you can just make out the birth of a beautiful new franchise. Everygirl June Havens (Diaz) is on her way to her sister’s wedding when she collides-cute at the airport with Roy Miller (Cruise). After killing the passengers and pilots on their plane, he literally sweeps her off her feet — thanks to some potent drugs. Picture a would-be Bond girl dragged against a spy-vs.-spy thriller semi-against-her-will — grappling with the subtextual anxiety rushing beneath all brief romantic encounters as well as some very justifiable survival fears. Can June overcome her trust issues? Is Roy the man of her dreams — or nightmares? Mangold and company miss a few opportunities to have more fun with those barely teased out ideas, and the polished, adult-yet-far-from-knowing charisma of the leads doesn’t quite live up to sophisticated interplay of Cary Grant and Grace Kelly, or even the down-home fun of Burt Reynolds and Sally Field, but it’s substantial enough for Knight and Day to coast on, for about 90 minutes tops. (2:10) Four Star, 1000 Van Ness, Presidio. (Chun)

Lovers of Hate Living out of his car after being dumped by Diana (Heather Kafka), perpetually dour Rudy (Chris Doubek) can hardly find a place to take a shower. In stark contrast to his desperate situation, Rudy’s brother Paul (Alex Karpovsky) is a successful children’s fantasy writer, holed up in a borrowed mansion in Utah to work on his next book. Rudy decides to pay his bro an unwelcome surprise visit, but he arrives just behind Diana, who has come to have a serious chat (and also some sex) with Paul. Still in love with Diana, Rudy skulks unnoticed through the tremendous house, playing vengeful voyeur to the new couple’s already rather weird relationship. Lovers of Hate‘s central trinity are not especially nice people, but neither are any of them evil; writer-director Bryan Poyser balances pity and disgust at their painfully human actions, without necessarily making a case for why we care. (1:33) Roxie. (Stander)

Micmacs An urge to baby-talk at the screen underlines what is wrong with Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s new film: it is like a precocious child all too aware how to work a room, reprising adorable past behaviors with pushy determination and no remaining spontaneity whatsoever. There will be cooing. There will be clucking. But there will also a few viewers rolling their eyes, thinking "This kid rides my last nerve." It’s easy to understand why Jeunet’s movies (including 2001’s Amélie) are so beloved, doubtless by many previously allergic to subtitles. (Of course, few filmmakers need dialogue less.) They are eye-candy, and brain-candy too: fantastical, hyper, exotic, appealing to the child within but with dark streaks, byzantine of plot yet requiring no close narrative attention at all. The artistry and craftsmanship are unmissable, no ingenious design or whimsical detail left unemphasized. In Micmacs, hero Bazil (Dany Boon) is a lovable misfit who lost his father to an Algerian landmine, then loses his own job and home when he’s brain-injured by a stray bullet. He falls in with a crazy coterie of lovable misfits who live underground, make wacky contraptions from junk, and each have their own special, not-quite-super "power." They help him wreak elaborate, fanciful revenge on the greedy arms manufacturers (André Dussollier, Nicolas Marié) behind his misfortunes, as well as various human rights-y global ones. So there’s a message here, couched in fun. But the effect is rather like a birthday clown begging funds for Darfur — or Robert Benigni’s dreaded Life is Beautiful (1997), good intentions coming off a bit hubristic, even distasteful. (1:44) Embarcadero, Shattuck, Smith Rafael. (Harvey)

La Mission A veteran S.F. vato turned responsible — if still muy macho — widower, father, and Muni driver, fortysomething Che (Benjamin Bratt) isn’t the type for mushy displays of sentiment. But it’s clear his pride and joy is son Jess (Jeremy Ray Valdez), a straight-A high school grad bound for UCLA. That filial bond, however, sustains some serious damage when Che discovers Jes has a secret life — with a boyfriend, in the Castro, just a few blocks away from their Mission walkup but might as well be light-years away as far as old-school dad is concerned. This Bratt family project (Benjamin’s brother Peter writes-directs, his wife Talisa Soto Bratt has a supporting role) has a bit of a predictable TV-movie feel, but its warm heart is very much in the right place. (1:57) Opera Plaza, Roxie. (Harvey)

*Ondine You want to believe in mermaids, leprechauns, tooth fairies, and Father Christmas — and director Neil Jordan plays with those hopes, and fears, in this unabashedly romantic fable set in a Irish fishing village. Mullet-ed fisherman Syracuse (Colin Farrell), dubbed "Circus," thanks to his days as a drinking fool, is the butt of everyone’s jokes till he happens to catch a mysterious girl (Alicja Bachleda) in his net. She calls herself Ondine, shies away from people, and sings in an unknown tongue to the sea, drawing salmon, lobster, and fortune to the fisherman otherwise down on his luck. His precocious daughter, Annie (Alison Barry), is in need of a kidney transplant — and a measure of hope — and she grows convinced that her father’s hidden-away water baby is a selkie, a mythical Celtic sea creature that can shed its seal skin, bond with humans, and make wishes come true. Unfortunately believing in magic doesn’t always make it so, though Ondine gracefully limns that space between belief and reality, squeezing small moments of pleasure and humor from its rough, albeit attractive, characters and absolutely stunning landscapes in scenes beautifully lensed by onetime Wong Kar Wai cinematographer Christopher Doyle. (1:43) Opera Plaza. (Chun)

*Please Give Manhattan couple Kate (Catherine Keener) and Alex (Oliver Platt) are the proprietors of an up-market vintage furniture store — they troll the apartments of the recently deceased, redistributing the contents at an astonishing markup — and they’ve purchased the entire apartment of their elderly next-door neighbor (Ann Guilbert). As they wait for her to expire so they can knock down a wall, they try not to loom in anticipation in front of her granddaughters, the softly melancholic Rebecca (Rebecca Hall) and the brittle pragmatist Mary (Amanda Peet). Filmmaker Nicole Holofcener has entered this territory before, examining the interpersonal pressures that a sizable income gap can exert in 2006’s Friends with Money. Here she turns to the pangs and blunderings of the liberal existence burdened with the discomforts of being comfortable and the desire to do some good in the world. The film capably explores the unexamined impulses of liberal guilt, though the conclusion it reaches is unsatisfying. Like Holofcener’s other work, Please Give is constructed from the episodic material of mundane, intimate encounters between characters whose complexity forces us to take them seriously, whether or not we like them. Here, though, it offers these private connections as the best one can hope for, a sort of domestic grace accrued by doing right, authentically, instinctively, by the people in your immediate orbit, leaving the larger world to muddle along on its axis as best it can. (1:30) Elmwood. (Rapoport)

The Secret in Their Eyes (2:07) Albany, Lumiere.

Sex and the City 2 Sex and the City 2 couldn’t be anymore brazenly shameless, dizzyingly shallow, or patently offensive if it tried. This is aspiration porn, pure and simple, kitted out in the Orientalist trappings of a Vogue spread and with all the emotional intelligence of a 12 year-old brat. As the first SATC film nearly made short work of any shred of nuance or humanity that Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, and Miranda carried over from their televised selves, SATC 2 fully embraces the bad pun-spewing, couture-clad clichés the girls have hardened into. Sure they have kids, husbands, career changes, and menopause to deal with, but who cares about those tired signposts of middle age when there is more shit to buy, more champagne to swill, private airlines to fly on, $22,000-a-night luxury suites to inhabit, Helen Reddy songs to butcher, and whole other peoples — specifically, the people of Abu Dhabi, who speak funny, dress funnier, and have craaazy notions about what it means to be "one of the girls" — to alternately boss around, offend, and pity? (Fun SATC2 fact: did you know that in the "new Middle East" women secretly wear designer duds underneath their abayas?) Oh, that one tiny pang of sympathy you feel during the tipsy confessional between Charlotte and Miranda in which they bond over how being a mother and giving up one’s life ambition is difficult? A mirage. Because really, the greater concern is flying back to JFK first class or bust. And let’s not even get into the few bones the film tosses to the homos, such as the opening set piece: a gay wedding only a straight man could’ve thought up, replete with a shopworn Liza Minnelli having her Gene Kelly-in-Xanadu moment. But seriously, Michael Patrick King, don’t get it twisted: Stanford may call it such, but it’s not "cheating" if you’re already in an open relationship. Then again, if being a foil for your straight BFF’s insecurities about the luxe confines of monogamy gets you a gift registry at Bergdorf’s, why not? The laughs are cheaper this time around, but SATC 2‘s fuckery is strictly price-upon-request. (2:24) 1000 Van Ness, Presidio, SF Center. (Sussman)

Solitary Man Consider this another chapter in a larger recession-era cinematic narrative: a kind of corollary to Up in the Air and another dispatch from the flip side of the American dream — namely, American failure. Wheeling, dealing, disgusting, and charming in turns, Michael Douglas manages the dubious achievement of making a hungry and lecherous BMW dealership honcho compelling, even as we roll our eyeballs in disgust. His Ben Kalmen was once at the top of the world, a fairy-tale self-made star whose luxury auto commercials were all over TV, a sharp-tongued wife (Susan Sarandon) and tenderly tolerant daughter (Jenna Fischer) by his side. After his career lands in the crapper, Ben begins a long climb up, trading favors with his girlfriend Jordan (Mary-Louise Parker) and taking her daughter Allyson (Imogen Poots) to his alma mater for her college interview. During this trip down memory lane he renews his ties with old pal Jimmy (Danny DeVito) and befriends budding schlub Daniel (Jesse Eisenberg), all while making some very bad, reflexively womanizing choices. If you can stomach its morally bereft, perpetually backsliding yet endearingly honest protagonist, you’ll be rewarded with on-point dialogue and a clear-eyed yet empathetic character study concerning the free fall of a self-sabotaging, old-enough-to-know-better prick, individualistic to the core and even more. Is Ben as worthy of a bailout, or a second chance, as the American auto industry? The answer remains up in the air. (1:30) Elmwood, Opera Plaza, Piedmont. (Chun)

*Splice "If we don’t use human DNA now, someone else will," declares Elsa (Sarah Polley), the brash young genetic scientist bent on defying the orders of her benign corporate benefactors in Vincenzo Natali’s pseudo-cautionary hybrid love child, Splice. From that moment on, it’s pretty clear that any ethical conundrums the movie raises aren’t really worthy of debate: what Elsa wants to do in the name of scientific progress — splice human DNA into gooey muscle masses to provide said corporation with proteins for gene therapy — is, you know, deranged. Elsa bucks both corporate policy and sound moral judgment and does it anyway, much to the horror of her husband and fellow hotshot research scientist, Clive (Adrien Brody). Her genetic tinkering soon results in the dramatic birth of something akin to a homicidal fetal chick crossed with a skinned bunny. It grows at an alarming rate, and when human characteristics become apparent, Elsa clings to it with the instinctual vigor of a tigress protecting her cub. When Elsa and Clive are forced to hide their creation at Elsa’s abandoned family farmhouse to escape detection from prying corporate eyes, Splice evolves into another kind of hybrid: a genetically engineered Scenes from a Marriage (1973) crossed with the DNA of The Omen (1976) and grafted onto the most very special My So-Called Life episode ever. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Splice may be a ludicrous, cut-rate exercise in Brood-era David Cronenberg — but it’s a damned entertaining one. (1:45) SF Center. (Devereaux)

Touching Home Hometown boys (Logan and Noah Miller) make good in this based-on-a-true-story tale of identical twins who must divide their time at home between training for major league baseball and looking after their alcoholic father. The brothers, who also wrote and directed the film, aim for David Gordon Green by way of Marin, but fall short of mastering that director’s knack for natural dialogue. Ed Harris is, unsurprisingly, compelling as the alcoholic father, but the actors in the film who are not named Ed Harris tend to contribute to the script’s distracting histrionics. Touching Home has some amazing NorCal cinematography, and I could see how family audiences might enjoy its "feel bad, then feel good" style of melodrama. But while it’s awkward to say that someone’s real-life experiences come off as trite, there are moments here that feel as clichéd as a Lifetime movie. (1:48) Smith Rafael. (Galvin)

*Toy Story 3 You’ve got a friend in Pixar. We all do. The animation studio just can’t seem to make a bad movie — even at its relative worst, a Pixar film is still worlds better than most of what Hollywood churns out. Luckily, Toy Story 3 is far from the worst: it’s actually one of Pixar’s most enjoyable and poignant films yet. Waiting 11 years after the release of Toy Story 2 was, in fact, a stroke of genius, in that it amplifies the nostalgia that runs through so many of the studio’s releases. The kids who were raised on Toy Story and its first sequel have now grown up, gone to college, and, presumably, abandoned their toys. For these twentysomethings, myself included, Toy Story 3 is a uniquely satisfying and heartbreaking experience. While the film itself may not be the instant classic that WALL-E (2008) was, it’s near flawless regardless of a viewer’s age. Warm, funny, and emotionally devastating—it’s Pixar as it should be. (1:49) Empire, Marina, 1000 Van Ness, Sundance Kabuki. (Peitzman)

*Winter’s Bone Winter’s Bone has already won awards at the Berlin International Film Festival and the Sundance Film Festival, but it’s the kind of downbeat, low-key, quiet film that may elude larger audiences (and, as these things go, Oscar voters). Like Andrea Arnold’s recent Fish Tank, it tells the story of a teenage girl who draws on unlikely reserves of toughness to navigate an unstable family life amid less-than-ideal economic circumstances. And it’s also directed by a woman: Debra Granik, whose previous feature, 2004’s Down to the Bone, starred Vera Farmiga (2009’s Up in the Air) as a checkout clerk trying to balance two kids and a secret coke habit.

Drugs also figure into the plot of the harrowing Winter’s Bone, though its protagonist, Ree Dolly (Jennifer Lawrence), is faced with a different set of circumstances: her meth head father has jumped bail, leaving the family’s humble mountain home as collateral; the two kids at stake are her younger siblings. With no resources other than her own tenacity, Ree strikes out into her rural Missouri community, seeking information from relatives who clearly know where her father is — but ain’t sayin’ a word. It’s a journey fraught with menace, shot with an eye for near-documentary realism and an appreciation for slow-burn suspense; Lawrence anchors a solid cast with her own powerful performance. Who says American independent film is dead? (1:40) Embarcadero, Shattuck. (Eddy)

SFBG Radio: Should the Pride Parade boycott California?

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Today at SFBG Radio, Johnny argues that all pride celebrations should be cancelled in California until the state recognizes same-sex marraiges. Tim begs to disagree. You can listen after the jump.

sfbgradio6/28/2010 by bgedit

Street Threads: Look of the Day

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Today’s Look: Melanie, 18th Street and Dolores

Tell us about your look: “I was going to watch Sex and the City with some friends, so I dressed up for it.” 

So ya wanna be in pictures? Two calls for onscreen lovemakers

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Has your lover ever gazed at you over a post coital puff, coughed, and whispered through a cancer-wracked, husky voice (sorry, those damn cigs have me all riled today) “baby, we should be in pictures,”? Of course, right? Like, this morning, probably! Well, fire up that Gchat and ready your Flip on its charger, because you and and he-she-it have a date with destiny — times two! — this Pride weekend. That’s because Good Vibes is running two calls for submissions of homemade/independent sex films, both due Wed/30.

 

Numero uno: The Independent Erotic Film Festival 

Everyone’s always dreaming of the day when Dr. Carol Queen and Peaches Christ dissect your lovemaking onstage in front of the audience of the Castro Theater! Right? Right? “There’s nothing like discussing film criticism with a bunch of drag queens,” Queen told me in a recent phone interview. Queen, SF’s resident sexpert, one-time Lusty Lady peep show tease, and founder of the Center for Sex and Culture, said the 4th year of the IXFF (which will take place Sept. 23) will be great because “we can see things that aren’t in the genre expectations of porn — it expands peoples’ ideas of what a sex movie is. If people are only looking at porn on cable TV, they’re only seenig a little bit of what sexuality can be.”

And you, gentle reader, can be part of that sexuality expansion! Of course, not everyone’s entry needs to be hard core. Says Dr. Queen, some past films could have made it as a documentary. “Some are different,” she told me. “They’re artier, they’re more personal.” Whatever’s sexy to you, mmkay?

Entries can be up to seven minutes long (keep it short and more of your randy peers can air their nasty bits at the festival). Good Vibes chooses the shorts they air based on how “good” they are, as well as in the spirit of fostering diversity of sexual representation. Oh, and the People’s Choice award winner gets $1,500 — that’ll keep you condoms for days! You can send it in until midnight on Wed/30, which by my count means you have about 5 days and 10 hours to get it up.

 

Numero dos: “The G-Spot Does Exist” challenge

“We decided to make this film after after all the press about the G-spot not really existing,” said Dr. Queen about Good Vibes and Je Joue‘s new project, Gush: The Official Guide to the G-Spot and Female Ejaculation, the third in the Good Releasing “Pleasure Ed” series (for which she writes and hosts). “It was this ridiculous study they did — they weren’t sex researchers! They asked a lot of dumb questions, got dumb answers.”

The companies will be tapping porn performers to act in G-spot stimulating scenes — with real life partners, and favored co stars, as has been the series’ wont in the first “Pleasure Ed” movies, of which the first two installations focused on cunnilingus and fellatio. “We want people to learn seeing genuine sexual energy,” said Queen.

But they’re also seeking a regular gal who just really likes her spongey mass of pleasure.

“We wanted to see who out there wanted to represent her own skills and knowledge,” Queen told me. They’re accepting submissions in the form of videos, or even an essay and photos. Once you have won the G-spot crown, your next task is to find out who you want to share it with; like the pros, you’ll be performing for Gush with a partner of your choice — even if that’s a Je Joue G-Ki.

 

For salacious details on how to submit to the The Independent Erotic Film Festival (entries due Wed/30), go to www.gv-ixff.org

For all the gushing glory of “The G-Spot Does Exist” challenge, send videos to: Good Releasing G-Spot Video, 934 Howard Street, San Francisco, CA 94103. Or or or! Just join the rest of the world by digitizing, and sending a link, photo and/or essay to casting@goodreleasing.com

Frameline34: Local drama “The Stranger in Us”

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Local filmmaker Scott Boswell may not have set out to make the film he ended up with, but he stands behind the finished product. The Stranger In Us stars ShortbusRaphael Barker as Anthony, a young man who moves from Virginia to San Francisco in order to live with his boyfriend Stephen (Scott Cox). When the relationship turns violent, Anthony finds solace in his friendship with Gavin (Adam Perez), an underage street huster. I spoke to Boswell and Barker about the film’s origins, its unique content, and what this year’s San Francisco International LGBT Film Festival says about the future of queer cinema.

San Francisco Bay Guardian: What was your inspiration for The Stranger In Us? Where did the story come from?

Scott Boswell: Ultimately the story ended up being fairly autobiographical. But it started in a different place. Originally — and Raphael knows this because we talked about it — originally, I had intended to do a much more experimental film, kind of a hybrid documentary-narrative, because of my fascination with the Polk Street, Tenderloin area, which I’ve always had since I moved here in the mid ‘90s. I had considered doing a bit of a portrait of the neighborhood, and kind of infusing actors into it, just shooting a lot of footage and seeing what we came up with. There’s a part of me that wishes I had still done that, but in all honesty, I can say that after Raphael expressed some interest in the project, I suddenly felt like it needed to be more narrative in its scope. He didn’t suggest that. It was just my intuition around the project. So I had been talking to him about doing it for months, without even having a complete script, and continued writing it and auditioning actors. Eventually it became much more traditional in terms of its narrative. It became what it is now.

SFBG: And Raphael, what brought you onto the project?

Raphael Barker: Scott. There wasn’t really a finished script and a lot of it was sort of up in the air, but I was just really comfortable with the process and how it evolved, because it was Scott. He and I just hit it off really well.

SFBG: Did you collaborate at all in terms of creating the character of Anthony or writing the script?

SB: Not so much on the script. I run a screenwriting group, here in the city. It’s a small group and we meet a couple times a month, and they had the most impact on the final script. However, there are quite a few places in the script where it suddenly says, “We’re gonna improv here.” And there are definitely scenes where the actors brought the dialog to the scene. Quite a few, actually, especially between his character and Gavin, the street kid. Largely because they had such wonderful chemistry, and I felt like I could trust them to pull it off.

SFBG: Raphael, can you talk about how the improv process was, as an actor?

RB: Scott would set up the scene and then let us go, and just see what happens. And then would make comments as necessary and readjustments. But I felt very free to just let the scene kind of take over and do its thing. I think Scott and I are just both very instinctual. Like, “That’s not how I planned it, but I kind of like it that way. Let’s play with that.” I think especially when you’re talking about Gavin, there was something almost unwritten about our relationship that was allowed to evolve through improv.

SB: Right, because there’s a piece that’s semi-autobiographical that has a place in history, and then there’s the piece that — I feel like Gavin’s character brings a newness, a sort of unfinished, still to be defined ending. There was something about the energy that really brought novelty to the script.

SFBG: You said originally you wanted to showcase this particular neighborhood in your film, and then it became more of a narrative. But it’s still a very San Francisco film. How did you go about capturing that?

SB: The main thing was choosing that location as his studio that he moves into after leaving Stephen, which actually wasn’t true to my experience. However, the person on which Stephen is most based actually lives there, so I kind of flipped it. And the character on whom Gavin is based actually hung out in the Castro, not the Tenderloin. So I flipped those around, and then because the character is so stuck and lost and wandering, he was able to go out into the street and that became the portrait of the neighborhood right there. We had spent a lot of time trying to work out just how we were going to portray that, and ultimately he’s always in the space. I actually did go out and shoot footage of the neighborhood without Raphael, and none of that is in the film.

SFBG: Anthony moves to San Francisco from Virginia, so he’s experiencing the city from an outsider’s perspective. Why did you decide to write him that way? And Raphael, how did that affect your performance?

SB: I think it’s a very common experience in San Francisco. It seems like the majority of people I meet here have migrated from somewhere else. And I think especially for gay men, when we arrive here, we don’t always quite find what we’re expecting, and especially for queer youth, which is an idea that Gavin embodies. I’m very interested in that sort of push-pull between the desire to be in the city of San Francisco and the challenges that you can face when you arrive. So I was interested in exploring that experience, and I’ve found subsequently that quite a few people — they’re almost always gay men — have come to me and said that they relate to that experience. Different generations of men, and different decades of coming here. It seems to be a continuing phenomenon in a way. In that sense, I think it’s very much a San Francisco story, even though it could probably happen in just about any urban area, especially when someone who doesn’t have experience in an urban environment suddenly arrives and is just thrown into it.

RB: I experienced something very similar coming out here to chase after someone I was pretty in love with, and then being dumped like a week and a half after moving here. And just feeling like I didn’t have that orientation anymore, and everything in the city was associated with this person. I’m sure I’ve one of millions of stories of people — with San Francisco being a kind of pilgrimage, then as soon as we get here we complain about it. But we wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, so there’s kind of that love-hate relationship with it. So I could definitely relate to coming out here to be with someone and having all that kind of expectation and hope, and then me kind of losing that central focus and orientation and realizing, “Now what?” I think that’s a theme that’s not just gay or even queer, but it seems like anyone I talk to who comes from a different place has that similar experience. They knew they needed to be out of wherever they were at, but they weren’t sure what they were exactly coming into.

SFBG: The film also deals with an abusive relationship, which is something we don’t see a lot of in queer cinema. I was wondering why you think that is, and also why you wanted to include it in your movie?

SB: I don’t know why it is, but because it is [not often seen] is one of the main reasons I wanted to include it. Hustlers and street kids appear in a lot of gay cinema  — and just to go down that tangent for a second — which is why I chose to not make that character the protagonist but a supporting role. In terms of same sex domestic violence, it is an issue that permeates probably just about any community, but I have seen and heard very little about it among same sex couples. There are some things, some things written and there’s an organization in San Francisco called Community United Against Violence that works to combat and end violence. So there are resources out there, but I wanted to explore it because it’s an issue that’s personal for me, on several levels. It’s something that I’ve experienced and it’s also something that I just personally have always cared about. I volunteered to do work at battered women’s shelters in the past—this was actually in Madison, Wisconsin, long before I’d ever had any kind of experience with it. What I find really interesting is the degree to which people don’t really understand it. No one thinks they’re going to enter a relationship like that. I certainly didn’t think so. I thought I understood it.

RB: Much less something that’s so countercultural in some sense.

SB: Yes, exactly.

RB: Like, “Oh, if I can requite this kind of relationship, that’s kind of the end game.”

SB: The thing is you don’t necessarily recognize it when you’re there. People always say, many people say and have said about this film, “Why does he stay? Why doesn’t he leave?” It’s interesting that people continue to not understand that issue, because it’s clearly a very common human experience. So I guess in a sense, that question to me opens up a dialog on the issue that I find very important. I’ve been asked that a lot from people, and so far, that’s only come from the very limited number of people who have seen [the film].

SFBG: Well, without sounding like I’m trying to justify the abuse at all, these characters are complex enough that you get a sense of why they’re together. You can see how they got to that point. How did you go about creating that, and making sure they weren’t too clear cut or one-dimensional?

RB: I think to show just how much we loved each other is one way to do it.

SB: Yeah, that was important. I approached this very much as a character piece. I mean, that’s what interests me as a filmmaker and as a writer. In terms of the kind of genres I might be able to work in, I think it’s an area I probably have more of a knack for. But I think it’s true for any genre you’re working in, you have to rewrite. You have to be able to get down the ideas and the scenes on paper, and then take a look at them and be open to feedback. And assessing where it is that they’re black-and-white or flat and one-dimensional, and trying to create scenes that are more organic and layered. So that’s what we did. Once I knew what the story was, it still took me a good nine months to write the thing before we started shooting.

SFBG: One last, much broader question. How have you seen queer cinema change over the years, and what is the direction that you see it taking?

SB: In just the past few days, in the films that I’ve seen at Frameline this year, I’m very excited. I think queer cinema has gotten better and better. I have reaffirmed my understanding of the necessity of LGBT festivals, because it has definitely gone through phases. There was kind of an indie new queer cinema in the early ‘90s, when Gus Van Sant was coming on the scene, and Gregg Arraki and Todd Haynes. Then in the later ‘90s and maybe early 2000s, it kind of evolved into a lighter, more mainstream cinema, which I actually don’t relate to as much. But the best of them are actually quite good. What I’ve seen more recently, and I hope our film falls into that, is really kind of the ability to look more closely at ourselves and tell our own stories without any kind of concern about the broader mainstream appeal. I know that those kinds of films still exist. I think that independent cinema has gotten to a place where it’s not just simply seeing ourselves portrayed on screen anymore, but it has to be good cinema now.

RB: I saw a lot of films at the Frameline festival two or three years ago when the documentary about the making of Shortbus came out, and it just made me realize that the quality — instead of it being a kind of niche genre, I don’t want to say the opposite of what you’re saying, but I almost see Frameline as becoming redundant, because the films are good enough to stand on their own. They don’t have to be a genre film or a niche or a sexuality genre film. We have to keep working and working toward the specific, and then eventually the specific becomes universal. And I think that’s the beauty of the films that are starting to come out. In the Frameline context, it’s going to actually make it almost redundant because they’re just going to be good films, period. That’s what excites me, because everyone’s experience is so unique. And sure, we’re working within paradigms and categories, but I think it’s just getting better.

SB: It’s interesting looking at where these films fit in in terms of festivals and markets and things like that. I guess what I was trying to say is that I feel like Frameline still needs to be around in order for these films to get shown, because they’re not all going to fit into SF International, they’re not all going to fit into all of the big festivals. The sort of bigger queer films coming out may not need Frameline. There have been a quite a few in recent years: Bad Education, Mysterious Skin, Capote. They’re playing at the bigger festivals or getting distribution without festivals. There is sort of a distinction there. But when I see something like I Killed My Mother, which just kind of knocked me on my ass because I thought it was so brilliant, I don’t know where else I would have seen it.

THE STRANGER IN US

Wed/23, 6:45 p.m., Roxie

Fri/25, 11 a.m., Castro

www.frameline.org

 

alt.sex.column: Clip show

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Dear Readers:

Nah, I’m not really going to saddle you with a “clips” column — that would be cheesy. But I do happen to have a bunch of interestingish non-question stuff from my inbox, so bear with me.

First up, an article from The New York Times called “The Perils Of Sexual Roundelays,” which is kind of refreshing because, despite the title, it actually pokes some holes in the “ZOMG hooking up and friends with benefits will be the death of love and marriage as we know it” cultural panic usually expressed in articles called “the perils of sexual” whatever. Sort of. The article (www.nytimes.com/2010/05/09/fashion/09Studied.html) describes what may be the first major study of non-monogamous behavior among adults). The study sets out to examine whether what the researchers call “non-serious relationships,” (a.k.a. “hooking up”) lead to “concurrent partnerships” (hooking up with lots of people, a.k.a. being a big old’ slut”).

The writer, Pamela Paul, keeps her head better than most, but even so it’s interesting to note the way the article treats non-monogamy not as a risk factor for STDs or eventual loneliness and heartbreak, but as an unquestioned Big Bad all on its own, something to be avoided even by those who appear to want it.

Eventually, though, Paul does come around to the sensible conclusion that “all this doesn’t necessarily mean hooking up leads to non-monogamy.”

On to the next item, a press release that may be of interest to you job hunters who may be just a little bit curious about what it might be like to work in the sexual entertainment industry. As a code monkey.

The sex industry’s premier trade show — CyberNet Expo — takes place July 8-10 in San Francisco.

This year exhibitors are making a real effort to attract and meet with jobseekers who have Web design, programming, and technical skills.

The adult online industry is hiring! Hiring companies are meeting with professionals who have skills in Web designing, photo and video editing and encoding, Web hosting and billing, and technical programming of any online language (PHP, C++, Java, etc.). Consultant and freelancers are in demand, too. Bring your resume and receive 20 percent off admission fee

You’re welcome. Good luck.

My last item is more in the way of a question for you intrepid sex scouts. I got a come-on from one of my favorite independent sexe shoppes, Babeland, and was reminded that I haven’t had an opportunity to examine either the SaSi, the very expensive smart not-a-vibrator that was last year’s big sex-toy sensation, or the more recent, vaguely comical “Sqweel oral sex simulator.” The Sqweel is a disk-shaped apparatus that resembles a small, pornographic Ferris Wheel, or my asthma meds dispenser — if my asthma meds dispenser could perform cunnilingus. It’s a little wheel studded with cute little pink “tongues” and it’s so peculiar yet promising that I need to hear from someone who’s encountered one in real life. Does it work? Does it get, um, tangled? Can you use it without laughing?

Sorry for the clips show. See ya next week.

Love,

Andrea

Got a question? Email Andrea at andrea@mail.altsexcolumn.com

Your big queer week

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ONGOING

Boys in their Bedrooms Lexington Club, 3464 19th St., SF; (415) 863-2052, www.lexingtonclub.com. Mon-Thu 5 p.m.–2 a.m., Sat–Sun 2 p.m.–2 a.m. Through June 30. Photographer Amos Mac of Original Plumbing zine gets up close and personal, chronicling the trans male lifestyle.

Chronotopia SOMArts, 934 Brannan, SF; (415) 552-1770, www.somarts.org. Explore “the past, present, and future of queer histories” with this eye-popping photography exhibit that celebrates the spectrum of queer images.

Faetopia Festival Old Tower Records space at Market and Noe streets, SF; Various times and prices. Through June 26. www.playajoy.org/faetopia. The lovely, radical faeries of Comfort and Joy take over this huge space for a “remix of the past and present for future utopias,” including eco-homo installations, “cuddle cinema” events, and a gossamer wing-load of ideas and performances.

Frameline Film Festival Various locations; see website for dates and times, www.frameline.org. The humongous citywide queer flick fest is still going strong, with dozens of screen gems.

Golden Girls Mama Calizo’s Voice Factory, 1519 Mission, SF; (415) 690-9410, www.voicefactorysf.org. Thu/24 and Fri/25, 7p.m. and 9 p.m.. $20–$25. Heklina, Cookie Dough, Matthew Martin, and Pollo Del Mar are joined by Mike Finn and Laurie Busman for live-action versions of two all-new episodes of the beloved TV show.

National Queer Arts Festival Various locations; see website for details, www.queerculturalcenter.org. Experience scandalously good spoken word, cabaret, art installations, and so much more as this powerhouse monthlong celebration of queer revelations continues.

 

WEDNESDAY 23

Allstars 4 The Garage, 975 Howard, SF; (415) 518-1517, www.975howard.com. 8 p.m., $10-$20. An array of one-person shows and monologues that focus on the diversity and struggle of queer daily life.

Booty Call Q Bar, 456 Castro, SF; (415) 626-7220, www.qbarsf.com. 9p.m., $3. Juanita More, Joshua J, and photographers whip up dirty tunes and photobooth eye-candy, with DJ W, Jeremy of House of Stank.

HomoEvolution El Rio, 3158 Mission, SF; (415) 282-3325, www.elriosf.com. 8p.m., free. LGBT hip-hop showcase in full effect, with Foxxjazell, Bry’Nt, Benni E, Drew Mason, and Sgt. Sass.

Mary Go Round LookOut, 3600 16th St, SF; (415) 431-3111, www.lookoutsf.com. 10 p.m., $5. House of Glitterati invades the weekly drag show, anchored by Suppositori Spelling, Cookie Dough, and Pollo Del Mar.

OH! Powerhouse, 1347 Folsom, SF; (415) 552-8689, www.powerhouse-sf.com. The Bright Young Gentlemen’s Adventuring Society cordially invites you to get it on. With DJs Taco Tuesday and PDX hottie Stormy.

Pullin’ Pork for Pride Pilsner Inn, 225 Church, SF; (415) 621-7058. 6 p.m.–9 p.m. free. Hot pork in hot buns (free sandwiches from the Funk N Chunk crew, we mean). It’s the Guardian’s annual free-for-all shindig with DJ Stanley Frank of Vienetta Discotheque, games, surprises, more.

Radar: Old School 3 San Francisco Public Library, Koret Auditorium, 100 Larkin, SF; (415) 557-4400, www.radarproductions.org. SF’s top writers reimagine the lives and legacies of queers gone by. With Justin Chin, Len Plass, Cyd Nova, and more.

 

THURSDAY 24

A Spot of Tea African American Arts and Culture Complex, 762 Fulton, SF; www.queerculturalcenter.org. 8 p.m., $12–$20. Original Plumbing brings on an all-transmale cabaret extravaganza with Chris Vargas, Berlin Reed, Ketch Wehr, Glenn Marla, and more.

Bad Reputation Lexington Club, 3464 19th St., SF; (415) 863-2052, www.lexingtonclub.com. 9 p.m., free. The sexy Lex’s infamous Pride kick-off, with DJs Jenna Riot and Dee Dee Crocodile, go-gos, drink specials. Oh, and smokin’ hot grrrls.

Bedtime Stories A Different Light, 498 Castro, SF; (415) 431-0891, www.adlbooks.com. 7:30 p.m., free. Fabio, oh, Fabio? Erotic gay romance author G.A. Hauser steams up the windows of A Different Light.

Carletta Sue Kay, Brent James, Pepperspray The Eagle, 398 12th St., SF. (415) 626-0880, www.sfeagle.com. 10 p.m., $5. Faggotty rock time. A screwed-up Appalachian-ish crooner, a naughty country high-flyer, and four heavy metal drag queens take over the Eagle. What’s not to love?

Gold Queers in the Night 111 Minna, SF; (415) 974-1719, www.111minnagallery.com. 9 p.m., $7. The Stay Gold and Hella Gay crews team up with Blood, Sweat, and Queers for an epic night of youthful, sweaty jams in the indie dance vein.

Gretchen Phillips and Phranc El Rio, 3158 Mission, SF; (415) 282-3325, www.elriosf.com. 8 p.m., $8–$15. Texan Phillips and “all–American, Jewish, lesbian folksinger” Phranc bring the Sapphic sounds.

Marga Gomez is Proud and Bothered New Conservatory Theater, 25 Van Ness, SF; (415) 861-4914, www.nctcsf.org. 8 p.m., $28 advance. Also Sat/26. The hilarious lesbian Latina queen of comedy takes a sharp-shootin’ walk of shame through her not-so-Prideful past.

Nightlife California Academy of Sciences, 55 Music Concourse, SF; (415) 379-5128, www.calacademy.org. 6 p.m.-10 p.m., $8–$10. Get thee to the awesome museum for tunes by Juanita More!, LadyHouse, and Stanley Frank, plus Sex Talk with Jane Tollini, and, of course, live penguins.

Queer Radicals New Valencia Hall, 625 Larkin, SF; (415) 864-1278. 7p.m., free (summer buffet for $7.50). A panel of queer and transgender activists discusses how to build a militant movement for LGBT liberation.

The Sound of Fabulous Mission High School, 3750 18th St., SF: www.sfprideconcert.org. 8 p.m., $15–$40. Also Fri/25. The Lesbian/Gay Chorus of San Francisco celebrates 30 years of, yes, fabulous, joining forces with the Gay Men’s Chorus, and the Freedom Marching Band for some “out loud and proud.”

Sybaritic Cougars with Ecosexual Tendencies Good Vibrations Polk, 1620 Polk, SF; (415) 345-0400, www.goodvibes.com. 6 p.m.–8 p.m., free. Sex-positive activists Annie Sprinkle and partner Beth Stephens host a retrospective of their Love Art Lab series.

The Tubesteak Connection Aunt Charlie’s, 133 Turk, SF; (415) 441-2922, www.auntcharlieslounge.com. 10 p.m., $4. A sticky, finger-lickin’, Hi-NRG hijinks tribute to bathhouse disco and funk rarities, swarthy clones, and outfits Grace Jones would die for. With DJ Bus Station John.

 

FRIDAY 25

Art Attack Pride Supperclub, 657 Harrison, SF; (415) 348-0900, www.supperclub.com. 9 p.m., $20. Video artist III paints the club fuchsia for DJ Lady Kier of Deee-Lite, the return of drag-rock amazers Pepperspray, and LA mesh-wonder Fade-Dra.

Bearracuda Pride DNA Lounge, 375 11th St., SF; (415) 626-2532, www.dnalounge.com. 9 p.m.-late. $20. Two floors of beard rubs, belly bumps, fur fun, and hairy hijinks as the city’s wild bear club goes big. DJ Ted Eiel heads up.

Bibi Gay Middle Eastern Mega Pride Party Paradise, 1501 Folsom, SF; (415) 252-5018, www.paradisesf.com. 9 p.m., $15. One of the most-anticipated parties of the season, with DJs Nile, Nadar, and Cheon delving into global sounds for a hip-shaking, ululating crowd of all stripes. Hookahs! Hotties! Bellydancers!

Folsom Friday Various SoMa venues, www.folsomfriday.com. 10 p.m.–2 a.m., free. Shuttles run down Folsom Street all night for a sleazy-fun bar crawl in SF’s other mecca for queer venues, including Truck, Chaps, Powerhouse, Blow Buddies, Lone Star, Mr. S, and Off Ramp Leathers.

MR. Mighty, 119 Utah, SF; (415) 626-7001, www.mighty119.com. 8 p.m.–4 a.m. $15. Break out your giant fake mustaches: NYC’s Larry Tee and our own house hero David Harness rock all night at this annual campy hoot. Yes, there’ll be a hot ‘stache (and ‘stache-riding?) contest.

San Francisco Trans March Dolores Park, Dolores and 18th St.; (415) 447-2774, www.transmarch.org. 3 p.m. stage, 7 p.m. march; free. Join the transgender community of San Francisco and beyond for a day of live performances, speeches, and not-so-military marching.

Some Thing Biggest Bestest Gayest Funnest Drag Show Sensation! Ever The Stud, 399 Ninth St., SF; (415) 863-6623, www.studsf.com. 9 p.m.–4 a.m., $10. Er, the name kind of says it all? The packed weekly club goes nuclear. VivvyAnne ForeverMore, Glamamore, Juanita More, Down-E, Diamond Daggers, Anna Conda &ldots; who’ll walk away with the mushroom cloud?

Original Plumbing presents Unofficial! Elbo Room, 647 Valencia, SF; (415) 552-7788, www.elbo.com. 9 p.m., $10. A party in honor of trans pride and visibility — plus, it’ll be a blast. Rocco Katastrophe and Jenna Riot host, DJs Chelsea Starr and 100 spokes spin, furry photo booth, trans slideshow, performances by Glenn Marla and Ice Cream Socialites.

Trans March 2010 Dolores Park, 17 Street and Dolores, SF. Rally at 3:30, march at 7 p.m.. www.transmarch.org. “United by Pride, United by Power” is the theme of this year’s inspiring event, with performances by the Transcendence Gospel Choir, Nori Herras, and a ton more.

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SATURDAY 26

Big Top vs. Trannyshack Club Eight, 1151 Folsom, SF; (415) 431-1151, www.eightsf.com. 9 p.m., $10 adv. Surely, it will be a circus when these two balls-out parties collide. Big Top brings the half-naked cockring-masters, Trannyshack brings the barkers. With DJ W. Jeremy. Midnight dragocalypse with Heklina, Ambrosia Salad, Miss Rahni, and more.

Bootie: Lady Gaga vs. Madonna DNA Lounge, 375 11th St., SF; (415) 626-2532, www.dnalounge.com. Could it get any stereotypically gayer? Don’t worry, punkers, the Bootie mashup crew are here to subvert it into happy chaos. Huge drag show at midnight.

Chaser: The Imminent Return EndUp, 401 Sixth St., SF; (415) 896-1075, www.theendup.com. 5 p.m.–10 p.m., $10. Monistat lives! Her ass-whoopin’, drink-spillin’ drag club resurrects itself, with a full-on show of every insanely entertaining alternaqueen in the phonebook, apparently. Plus DJ Guy Ruben.

Cockblock Mega-Pride Rickshaw Stop, 155 Fell, SF; (415) 861-2011, www.rickshawstop.com. 9 p.m., $20-$25. Wild, wet, and more wild at this ecstatic, high-hoofin’ joint for lezzies, queers, and lovers. With DJs Nuxx and Motive and hot chicks galore.

Excuses for Skipping and Lauren DeRose Lexington Club, 3464 19th St., SF; (415) 863-2052, www.lexingtonclub.com. 3 p.m., free. Warm up for the Dyke March with these two live rockin’ acts.

Go Bang! Pride Edition Deco Lounge, 510 Larkin, SF; (415) 346-2025, www.decosf.com. 9 p.m.-after hours, $5. One of our cutest disco and house parties goes pink with DJs Jason Kendig, Marcelino Andrade, Sergio, and more. Expect to be turned out, put upside-down, and spun around.

Lights Down Low Pride Edition Triple Crown, 1760 Market, SF; (415) 863-3516, www.triplecrownsf.com. 8 p.m.–4 a.m., $15. The gonzo electro party delivers a worthy Pride blackout with DJs Larry Tee, Kim Ann Foxman, Saratonin from Brownies for my Bitches, Sleazemore, Derek Bobus, and more. Hosted by the Miss Honey kids and Davi.

LGBT Pride Celebration Civic Center, Carlton B. Goodlett Place and McAllister, SF; (415) 864-3733, www.sfpride.org. Noon–6 p.m., free. Celebrate LGBT pride at this free outdoor event featuring DJs, speakers, and live music. This is the first half of the weekend-long celebration sponsored by SF Pride, featuring hip-hop, a battle of the bands, and more.

LGBTQ History Bike Tour Meet at Cupid’s Arrow on the Embarcadero near the Ferry Building, SF; 2 p.m.–5 p.m., $5 donation. Get smart (and fit) for Pride on this eight-mile tour of queer history hotspots, ending up at the Dyke March.

Love and Happiness SOM, 2925 16th St., SF; (415) 558-8521, www.som-bar.com. 10 p.m.–4 a.m., $15. It’s a glorious old-school house reunion for the rainbow children, with David Harness and Ruben Mancias on decks, Robnoxious at the door, and Joseph Solis hosting.

Kiss Me Deadly Lexington Club, 3464 19th St., SF; (415) 863-2052, www.lexingtonclub.com. 9 p.m., free. After the Dyke March, cool off (most likely get hotter) with DJ Bunnystyle of Blood, Sweat, and Queers.

Mango After Dyke March Party El Rio, 3158 Mission, SF; (415) 282-3325, www.elriosf.com. 8 p.m., $10/$15. Food, drink, dancing, and girls, girls, girls at this juicy ladies night.

Pink Pleasure Party Good Vibrations Valencia, 603 Valencia, SF; (415) 522-5460, www.goodvibes.com. 8–10p.m., free. Drop in, dyke out, gear up for a sensual Pride at this Good Vibes mix n’ mingle.

Pink Saturday Castro District, SF; www.thesisters.org. 6p.m.–midnight, donation requested, all ages. The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence host their cuckoo annual outdoor event, featuring entertainment, beer, cocktails, food, and, duh, cruising galore.

Pink Triangle Installation Twin Peaks Vista, Twin Peaks Blvd parking area, SF; (415) 247-1100, ext 142, www.thepinktriangle.com. 7:30–10:30 a.m., free. Bring a hammer and your hunky work boots and help install the humongous pink triangle atop Twin Peaks for everyone to see. Volunteers needed! Do it!

San Francisco Dyke March Dolores Park, Dolores and 18th St., SF; www.dykemarch.org. Rally at 3 p.m.. March at 7 p.m.. Free. The one “do not miss” event of Pride, with tons of entertainment and speakers, impossibly sexy crowd, and a “Dyke Planet, Green Planet” theme.

Sundance Saloon Pride Dance Hotel Whitcomb, 1231 Market, SF; (415) 626-8000, www.sundancesaloon.org. 8 p.m., $10. Also Sun/27. Shine up your spurs for a country line-dance party that’ll put you in a hootin’ mood.

 

SUNDAY 27

Body Rock Temple Bar, 600 Polk, SF; (415) 931-5196. 11 a.m.–6 p.m., 18+ free. Delightfully tawdry Miss Monistat queens it over this all-day dragstravaganza, featuring the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, Mutha Chucka, Cher-A-Little, and others. With crazy beats from Electronic Music Bears, High Fantasy, and more.

Gay Shame Goth Cry-In Outside LGBT Center, 1800 Market, SF; www.gayshamesf.org. 2 p.m.–3:30 p.m., free. Protest and grieve the commercialization of Pride and the community – throw on your blackest black and let the tears roll.

Juanita MORE!’s Pride Party 2010 Kelly’s Mission Rock, 817 Terry Francois Blvd, SF; (415) 626-5355, www.juanitamore.com. 2 p.m.–2 a.m., $35. Pretty much the charitable Pride party of the year, flooded with cool kids, admirers, and the sounds of the mind-blowing Cougar Cadet Corps Drumline. DJs James Glass, Chelsea Starr, Kim Ann Foxman, and many more. Benefiting Bay Positives. Shuttles available from the Pride Celebration.

Les Beaux SOM, 2925 16th St., SF; (415) 558-8521, www.som-bar.com. 3 p.m.–9 p.m., $10. Don’t catch your breath after Pride, girls. Get beautiful with Cockblock’s DJ Nuxx and decks guests Sarah Delush and Rapid Fire.

LGBT Pride Celebration Civic Center, Carlton B. Goodlett Place and McCallister, SF; (415) 864-3733, www.sfpride.org. Noon–7 p.m., free. The celebration hits full stride, with a buttload of musical and dance performances and, truly, something for everyone. Don’t forget your sunscreen or little umbrella.

LGBT Pride Parade Market at Davis to Market and Eighth Sts, SF; (415) 864-3733, www.sfpride.org. 10:30 a.m.–noon, free. This 40th annual parade, with an expected draw of 500,000, is the highlight of the Pride Weekend in the city that defines queer culture.

Honey Pride Paradise, 1501 Folsom, SF; (415) 252-5018, www.paradisesf.com. 6 p.m.–2:30 a.m., $3. Legendary (actually) disco DJ Steve Fabus goes classic house on us, joining the regular Honey Soundsystem discaires for stylish specialness all around. $8 beer bust 6 p.m.-9 p.m..  

Queerly Beloved Pink Sunday Party El Rio, 3158 Mission, SF; (415) 282-3325, www.elriosf.com. 3 p.m.–8 p.m., $5. Courtney Trouble and Tina Horn host this benefit for queerporn.tv. DJs Campbell and Venus in Furs, performers Alotta Boutte and Dexter James, kissing and kink booths, and dirty, sexy queers.

Too Fast for Love Lexington Club, 3464 19th St., SF; (415) 863-2052, www.lexingtonclub.com. 9 p.m., free. “Shake it, fake it, take it” as DJ Campbell spins the dirty at this Pride after-affair.

Inflated meaning

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arts@sfbg.com

FILM Don’t let Air Doll‘s title fool you. Mannequin (1987) or Lars and the Real Girl (2007) this ain’t. This gritty, Tokyo-set fairytale about an inflatable sex doll who comes to life represents a departure on many fronts for director Hirokazu Koreeda, who has become known for such faintly melancholy studies of quiet perseverance as Nobody Knows (2004) and After Life (1998). Despite its fantastic premise and candid eroticism, Air Doll covers similar emotional territory to those older titles, surveying with no less an empathetic eye the fickleness of human connection, the power of adoration, and the loneliness that seems to be a hallmark of urban life.

Saucer-eyed Korean actress Doona Bae (of 2005’s Linda Linda Linda fame) stars as Nozomi, the titular doll who escapes her devoted owner’s apartment and wanders through the densely packed surrounding streets. Eventually she finds employment at a video store, where she falls in love with a coworker (after he gives her one of the best and queerest BJs ever committed to film). Along the way she learns to tell lies, harbor jealousy, and experience what it’s like to have the "heart [she] wasn’t supposed to have" break. In short, what it means to be human.

All the while, Koreeda never sugarcoats Nozomi’s "vocation," letting sexually frank but never prurient episodes stand in contrast to the film’s more lighthearted moments. But, as I found out when I spoke to Koreeda the day after Air Doll screened at the 2010 San Francisco International Film Festival, that’s part of being human too. My thanks go out to Beth Cary for being such a wonderful interpreter.

SFBG You’ve never made an adaptation before. What initially attracted you to Yoshiie Goda’s manga series?

Hirokazu Koreeda There was one scene in particular that attracted me. In the video shop, when the air doll snags her arm on a nail in the wall and starts deflating and the young male clerk comes over and tends to her wound. At first she is shy and embarrassed but then she starts feeling a real sense of fulfillment and satisfaction as he blows air into her. To me it was like a sex scene, but done with the breath. Using a person’s breath as a way that people commingle and communicate was very interesting to me.

SFBG Air Doll has really divided critics. I think it’s because the film doesn’t stick to a certain tone or mood. Is this what you were aiming for?

HK In a way it was. What I discussed with Doona Bae is that the doll is born like a baby — innocent — and then learns various things about the world by imitating humans. In that process, she sees how poetic things are, how pessimistic things are, and how comedic things are, so she changes as well. I think such a mix of elements is present in our everyday lives, so I wanted the film to reflect that.

SFBG How was it working with Doona Bae? Her performance has such a Giulietta Masina-like quality to it.

HK [Laughs] Actually, before we started filming I suggested that she watch La strada (1954) and Nights of Cabaria (1957), not because I was aiming for a certain style, but because I thought they might be helpful. I also spent about five hours walking her through the entire film (with an interpreter, since she doesn’t speak Japanese). During that time even she would tear up and cry during the sad parts and laugh during all the pleasurable parts. Afterward she said, "I’ve got it. I understand the character now." And in the two months of filming, she didn’t waver from what we discussed at all. She was great.

AIR DOLL opens Fri/25 in Bay Area theaters.

Your big queer week

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ONGOING

Boys in their Bedrooms Lexington Club, 3464 19th St., SF; (415) 863-2052, www.lexingtonclub.com. Mon-Thu 5 p.m.–2 a.m., Sat–Sun 2 p.m.–2 a.m. Through June 30. Photographer Amos Mac of Original Plumbing zine gets up close and personal, chronicling the trans male lifestyle on the sexy Lex’s walls.

Chronotopia SOMArts, 934 Brannan, SF; (415) 552-1770, www.somarts.org. Explore “the past, present, and future of queer histories” with this eye-popping photography exhibit that celebrates the spectrum of queer images.

Faetopia Festival Old Tower Records space at Market and Noe streets, SF; Various times and prices. Through June 26. www.playajoy.org/faetopia. The lovely, radical faeries of Comfort and Joy take over this huge space for a “remix of the past and present for future utopias,” including eco-homo installations, “cuddle cinema” events, and a gossamer wing-load of ideas and performances.

Frameline Film Festival Various locations; see website for dates and times, www.frameline.org. The humongous citywide queer flick fest is still going strong, with dozens of screen gems.

Golden Girls Mama Calizo’s Voice Factory, 1519 Mission, SF; (415) 690-9410, www.voicefactorysf.org. Thu/24 and Fri/25, 7p.m. and 9 p.m.. $20–$25. Heklina, Cookie Dough, Matthew Martin, and Pollo Del Mar are joined by Mike Finn and Laurie Busman for live-action versions of two all-new episodes of the beloved TV show.

National Queer Arts Festival Various locations; see website for details, www.queerculturalcenter.org. Experience scandalously good spoken word, cabaret, art installations, and so much more as this powerhouse monthlong celebration of queer revelations continues.

 


 

WEDNESDAY 23

Allstars 4 The Garage, 975 Howard, SF; (415) 518-1517, www.975howard.com. 8 p.m., $10-$20. An array of one-person shows and monologues that focus on the diversity and struggle of queer daily life.

Booty Call Q Bar, 456 Castro, SF; (415) 626-7220, www.qbarsf.com. 9p.m., $3. Juanita More, Joshua J, and photographers whip up dirty tunes and photobooth eye-candy, with DJ W, Jeremy of House of Stank.

HomoEvolution El Rio, 3158 Mission, SF; (415) 282-3325, www.elriosf.com. 8p.m., free. LGBT hip-hop showcase in full effect, with Foxxjazell, Bry’Nt, Benni E, Drew Mason, and Sgt. Sass.

Mary Go Round LookOut, 3600 16th St, SF; (415) 431-3111, www.lookoutsf.com. 10 p.m., $5. House of Glitterati invades the weekly drag show, anchored by Suppositori Spelling, Cookie Dough, and Pollo Del Mar.

OH! Powerhouse, 1347 Folsom, SF; (415) 552-8689, www.powerhouse-sf.com. The Bright Young Gentlemen’s Adventuring Society cordially invites you to get it on. With DJs Taco Tuesday and PDX hottie Stormy.

Pullin’ Pork for Pride Pilsner Inn, 225 Church, SF; (415) 621-7058. 6 p.m.–9 p.m. free. Hot pork in hot buns (free sandwiches from the Funk N Chunk crew, we mean). It’s the Guardian’s annual free-for-all shindig with DJ Stanley Frank of Vienetta Discotheque, games, surprises, more.

Radar: Old School 3 San Francisco Public Library, Koret Auditorium, 100 Larkin, SF; (415) 557-4400, www.radarproductions.org. SF’s top writers reimagine the lives and legacies of queers gone by. With Justin Chin, Len Plass, Cyd Nova, and more.

 


THURSDAY 24

A Spot of T African American Arts and Culture Complex, 762 Fulton, SF; www.queerculturalcenter.org. 8 p.m., $12–$20. Original Plumbing brings on an all-transmale cabaret extravaganza with Chris Vargas, Berlin Reed, Ketch Wehr, Glenn Marla, and more.

Bad Reputation Lexington Club, 3464 19th St., SF; (415) 863-2052, www.lexingtonclub.com. 9 p.m., free. The sexy Lex’s infamous Pride kick-off, with DJs Jenna Riot and Dee Dee Crocodile, go-gos, drink specials. Oh, and smokin’ hot grrrls.

Bedtime Stories A Different Light, 498 Castro, SF; (415) 431-0891, www.adlbooks.com. 7:30 p.m., free. Fabio, oh, Fabio? Erotic gay romance author G.A. Hauser steams up the windows of A Different Light.

Carletta Sue Kay, Brent James, Pepperspray The Eagle, 398 12th St., SF. (415) 626-0880, www.sfeagle.com. 10 p.m., $5. Faggotty rock time. A screwed-up Appalachian-ish crooner, a naughty country high-flyer, and four heavy metal drag queens take over the Eagle. What’s not to love?

Gold Queers in the Night 111 Minna, SF; (415) 974-1719, www.111minnagallery.com. 9 p.m., $7. The Stay Gold and Hella Gay crews team up with Blood, Sweat, and Queers for an epic night of youthful, sweaty jams in the indie dance vein.

Gretchen Phillips and Phranc El Rio, 3158 Mission, SF; (415) 282-3325, www.elriosf.com. 8 p.m., $8–$15. Texan Phillips and “all–American, Jewish, lesbian folksinger” Phranc bring the Sapphic sounds.

Marga Gomez is Proud and Bothered New Conservatory Theater, 25 Van Ness, SF; (415) 861-4914, www.nctcsf.org. 8 p.m., $28 advance. Also Sat/26. The hilarious lesbian Latina queen of comedy takes a sharp-shootin’ walk of shame through her not-so-Prideful past.

Nightlife California Academy of Sciences, 55 Music Concourse, SF; (415) 379-5128, www.calacademy.org. 6 p.m.-10 p.m., $8–$10. Get thee to the awesome museum for tunes by Juanita More!, LadyHouse, and Stanley Frank, plus Sex Talk with Jane Tollini, and, of course, live penguins.

Queer Radicals New Valencia Hall, 625 Larkin, SF; (415) 864-1278. 7p.m., free (summer buffet for $7.50). A panel of queer and transgender activists discusses how to build a militant movement for LGBT liberation.

The Sound of Fabulous Mission High School, 3750 18th St., SF: www.sfprideconcert.org. 8 p.m., $15–$40. Also Fri/25. The Lesbian/Gay Chorus of San Francisco celebrates 30 years of, yes, fabulous, joining forces with the Gay Men’s Chorus, and the Freedom Marching Band for some “out loud and proud.”

Sybaritic Cougars with Ecosexual Tendencies Good Vibrations Polk, 1620 Polk, SF; (415) 345-0400, www.goodvibes.com. 6 p.m.–8 p.m., free. Sex-positive activists Annie Sprinkle and partner Beth Stephens host a retrospective of their Love Art Lab series.

The Tubesteak Connection Aunt Charlie’s, 133 Turk, SF; (415) 441-2922, www.auntcharlieslounge.com. 10 p.m., $4. A sticky, finger-lickin’, Hi-NRG hijinks tribute to bathhouse disco and funk rarities, swarthy clones, and outfits Grace Jones would die for. With DJ Bus Station John.

 


FRIDAY 25

Art Attack Pride Supperclub, 657 Harrison, SF; (415) 348-0900, www.supperclub.com. 9 p.m., $20. Video artist III paints the club fuchsia for DJ Lady Kier of Deee-Lite, the return of drag-rock amazers Pepperspray, and LA mesh-wonder Fade-Dra.

Bearracuda Pride DNA Lounge, 375 11th St., SF; (415) 626-2532, www.dnalounge.com. 9 p.m.-late. $20. Two floors of beard rubs, belly bumps, fur fun, and hairy hijinks as the city’s wild bear club goes big. DJ Ted Eiel heads up.

Bibi Gay Middle Eastern Mega Pride Party Paradise, 1501 Folsom, SF; (415) 252-5018, www.paradisesf.com. 9 p.m., $15. One of the most-anticipated parties of the season, with DJs Nile, Nadar, and Cheon delving into global sounds for a hip-shaking, ululating crowd of all stripes. Hookahs! Hotties! Bellydancers!

Folsom Friday Various SoMa venues, www.folsomfriday.com. 10 p.m.–2 a.m., free. Shuttles run down Folsom Street all night for a sleazy-fun bar crawl in SF’s other mecca for queer venues, including Truck, Chaps, Powerhouse, Blow Buddies, Lone Star, Mr. S, and Off Ramp Leathers.

MR. Mighty, 119 Utah, SF; (415) 626-7001, www.mighty119.com. 8 p.m.–4 a.m. $15. Break out your giant fake mustaches: NYC’s Larry Tee and our own house hero David Harness rock all night at this annual campy hoot. Yes, there’ll be a hot ‘stache (and ‘stache-riding?) contest.

San Francisco Trans March Dolores Park, Dolores and 18th St.; (415) 447-2774, www.transmarch.org. 3 p.m. stage, 7 p.m. march; free. Join the transgender community of San Francisco and beyond for a day of live performances, speeches, and not-so-military marching.

Some Thing Biggest Bestest Gayest Funnest Drag Show Sensation! Ever The Stud, 399 Ninth St., SF; (415) 863-6623, www.studsf.com. 9 p.m.–4 a.m., $10. Er, the name kind of says it all? The packed weekly club goes nuclear. VivvyAnne ForeverMore, Glamamore, Juanita More, Down-E, Diamond Daggers, Anna Conda &ldots; who’ll walk away with the mushroom cloud?

Original Plumbing presents Unofficial! Elbo Room, 647 Valencia, SF; (415) 552-7788, www.elbo.com. 9 p.m., $10. A party in honor of trans pride and visibility — plus, it’ll be a blast. Rocco Katastrophe and Jenna Riot host, DJs Chelsea Starr and 100 spokes spin, furry photo booth, trans slideshow, performances by Glenn Marla and Ice Cream Socialites.

Trans March 2010 Dolores Park, 17 Street and Dolores, SF. Rally at 3:30, march at 7 p.m.. www.transmarch.org. “United by Pride, United by Power” is the theme of this year’s inspiring event, with performances by the Transcendence Gospel Choir, Nori Herras, and a ton more..


 

SATURDAY 26

Big Top vs. Trannyshack Club Eight, 1151 Folsom, SF; (415) 431-1151, www.eightsf.com. 9 p.m., $10 adv. Surely, it will be a circus when these two balls-out parties collide. Big Top brings the half-naked cockring-masters, Trannyshack brings the barkers. With DJ W. Jeremy. Midnight dragocalypse with Heklina, Ambrosia Salad, Miss Rahni, and more.

Blow Off Slim’s 333 11th St., SF. (415) 255-0333, www.slims-sf.com. 10pm, $15-$20. DJs Bob Mould (of Sugar) and Rich Morel spin the rock remixes for a packed crowd of large hairies, scruffy fairies, and their admirers. Get into it. 

Bootie: Lady Gaga vs. Madonna DNA Lounge, 375 11th St., SF; (415) 626-2532, www.dnalounge.com. Could it get any stereotypically gayer? Don’t worry, punkers, the Bootie mashup crew are here to subvert it into happy chaos. Huge drag show at midnight.

Chaser: The Imminent Return EndUp, 401 Sixth St., SF; (415) 896-1075, www.theendup.com. 5 p.m.–10 p.m., $10. Monistat lives! Her ass-whoopin’, drink-spillin’ drag club resurrects itself, with a full-on show of every insanely entertaining alternaqueen in the phonebook, apparently. Plus DJ Guy Ruben.

Cockblock Mega-Pride Rickshaw Stop, 155 Fell, SF; (415) 861-2011, www.rickshawstop.com. 9 p.m., $20-$25. Wild, wet, and more wild at this ecstatic, high-hoofin’ joint for lezzies, queers, and lovers. With DJs Nuxx and Motive and hot chicks galore.

Excuses for Skipping and Lauren DeRose Lexington Club, 3464 19th St., SF; (415) 863-2052, www.lexingtonclub.com. 3 p.m., free. Warm up for the Dyke March with these two live rockin’ acts.

Go Bang! Pride Edition Deco Lounge, 510 Larkin, SF; (415) 346-2025, www.decosf.com. 9 p.m.-after hours, $5. One of our cutest disco and house parties goes pink with DJs Jason Kendig, Marcelino Andrade, Sergio, and more. Expect to be turned out, put upside-down, and spun around.

Lights Down Low Pride Edition Triple Crown, 1760 Market, SF; (415) 863-3516, www.triplecrownsf.com. 8 p.m.–4 a.m., $15. The gonzo electro party delivers a worthy Pride blackout with DJs Larry Tee, Kim Ann Foxman, Saratonin from Brownies for my Bitches, Sleazemore, Derek Bobus, and more. Hosted by the Miss Honey kids and Davi.

LGBT Pride Celebration Civic Center, Carlton B. Goodlett Place and McAllister, SF; (415) 864-3733, www.sfpride.org. Noon–6 p.m., free. Celebrate LGBT pride at this free outdoor event featuring DJs, speakers, and live music. This is the first half of the weekend-long celebration sponsored by SF Pride, featuring hip-hop, a battle of the bands, and more.

LGBTQ History Bike Tour Meet at Cupid’s Arrow on the Embarcadero near the Ferry Building, SF; 2 p.m.–5 p.m., $5 donation. Get smart (and fit) for Pride on this eight-mile tour of queer history hotspots, ending up at the Dyke March.

Love and Happiness SOM, 2925 16th St., SF; (415) 558-8521, www.som-bar.com. 10 p.m.–4 a.m., $15. It’s a glorious old-school house reunion for the rainbow children, with David Harness and Ruben Mancias on decks, Robnoxious at the door, and Joseph Solis hosting.

Kiss Me Deadly Lexington Club, 3464 19th St., SF; (415) 863-2052, www.lexingtonclub.com. 9 p.m., free. After the Dyke March, cool off (most likely get hotter) with DJ Bunnystyle of Blood, Sweat, and Queers.

Mango After Dyke March Party El Rio, 3158 Mission, SF; (415) 282-3325, www.elriosf.com. 8 p.m., $10/$15. Food, drink, dancing, and girls, girls, girls at this juicy ladies night.

Pink Pleasure Party Good Vibrations Valencia, 603 Valencia, SF; (415) 522-5460, www.goodvibes.com. 8–10p.m., free. Drop in, dyke out, gear up for a sensual Pride at this Good Vibes mix n’ mingle.

Pink Saturday Castro District, SF; www.thesisters.org. 6p.m.–midnight, donation requested, all ages. The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence host their cuckoo annual outdoor event, featuring entertainment, beer, cocktails, food, and, duh, cruising galore.

Pink Triangle Installation Twin Peaks Vista, Twin Peaks Blvd parking area, SF; (415) 247-1100, ext 142, www.thepinktriangle.com. 7:30–10:30 a.m., free. Bring a hammer and your hunky work boots and help install the humongous pink triangle atop Twin Peaks for everyone to see. Volunteers needed! Do it!

San Francisco Dyke March Dolores Park, Dolores and 18th St., SF; www.dykemarch.org. Rally at 3 p.m.. March at 7 p.m.. Free. The one “do not miss” event of Pride, with tons of entertainment and speakers, impossibly sexy crowd, and a “Dyke Planet, Green Planet” theme.

Sundance Saloon Pride Dance Hotel Whitcomb, 1231 Market, SF; (415) 626-8000, www.sundancesaloon.org. 8 p.m., $10. Also Sun/27. Shine up your spurs for a country line-dance party that’ll put you in a hootin’ mood.

 


SUNDAY 27

Body Rock Temple Bar, 600 Polk, SF; (415) 931-5196. 11 a.m.–6 p.m., 18+ free. Delightfully tawdry Miss Monistat queens it over this all-day dragstravaganza, featuring the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, Mutha Chucka, Cher-A-Little, and others. With crazy beats from Electronic Music Bears, High Fantasy, and more.

Gay Shame Goth Cry-In Outside LGBT Center, 1800 Market, SF; www.gayshamesf.org. 2 p.m.–3:30 p.m., free. Protest and grieve the commercialization of Pride and the community – throw on your blackest black and let the tears roll.

Juanita MORE!’s Pride Party 2010 Kelly’s Mission Rock, 817 Terry Francois Blvd, SF; (415) 626-5355, www.juanitamore.com. 2 p.m.–2 a.m., $35. Pretty much the charitable Pride party of the year, flooded with cool kids, admirers, and the sounds of the mind-blowing Cougar Cadet Corps Drumline. DJs James Glass, Chelsea Starr, Kim Ann Foxman, and many more. Benefiting Bay Positives. Shuttles available from the Pride Celebration.

Les Beaux SOM, 2925 16th St., SF; (415) 558-8521, www.som-bar.com. 3 p.m.–9 p.m., $10. Don’t catch your breath after Pride, girls. Get beautiful with Cockblock’s DJ Nuxx and decks guests Sarah Delush and Rapid Fire.

LGBT Pride Celebration Civic Center, Carlton B. Goodlett Place and McCallister, SF; (415) 864-3733, www.sfpride.org. Noon–7 p.m., free. The celebration hits full stride, with a buttload of musical and dance performances and, truly, something for everyone. Don’t forget your sunscreen or little umbrella.

LGBT Pride Parade Market at Davis to Market and Eighth Sts, SF; (415) 864-3733, www.sfpride.org. 10:30 a.m.–noon, free. This 40th annual parade, with an expected draw of 500,000, is the highlight of the Pride Weekend in the city that defines queer culture.

Honey Pride Paradise, 1501 Folsom, SF; (415) 252-5018, www.paradisesf.com. 6 p.m.–2:30 a.m., $3. Legendary (actually) disco DJ Steve Fabus goes classic house on us, joining the regular Honey Soundsystem discaires for stylish specialness all around. $8 beer bust 6 p.m.-9 p.m..  

Queerly Beloved Pink Sunday Party El Rio, 3158 Mission, SF; (415) 282-3325, www.elriosf.com. 3 p.m.–8 p.m., $5. Courtney Trouble and Tina Horn host this benefit for queerporn.tv. DJs Campbell and Venus in Furs, performers Alotta Boutte and Dexter James, kissing and kink booths, and dirty, sexy queers.  

Too Fast for Love Lexington Club, 3464 19th St., SF; (415) 863-2052, www.lexingtonclub.com. 9 p.m., free. “Shake it, fake it, take it” as DJ Campbell spins the dirty at this Pride after-affair.