With over 40 feature films in the official selection, the 13th Annual San Francisco Documentary Film Festival (SF DocFest) once again showcases the best documentaries from around the globe and around the Bay.
Presented by SF IndieFest, the 13th Edition of the SF DocFest will include films, panels, and events. In addition to the Roxie and Brava Theatres in San Francisco, the festival will also include the Oakland School of the Arts’ Marion E. Greene Black Box Theater as their newest venue. For more information on films, parties and panels at the festival visit www.sfindie.com.
Enter to win a pair of tickets by emailing your FIRST and LAST name to rsvp@sfmediaco.com with the “DocFest” in the subject line.
SF
13TH SAN FRANCISCO DOCUMENTARY FESTIVAL
Fogged in
THE WEEKNIGHTER Weekends are for amateurs. Weeknights are for pros. That’s why each week Broke-Ass Stuart (www.brokeassstuart.com) will be exploring a different San Francisco bar, bringing you stories about the places and people who make San Francisco one of the most phenomenal cities in the world. Who wants a drink?
We decided to walk around the Tenderloin. I had my computer, Gene had his bike, and Sabrina had a bag of things I’m sure she didn’t want taken from her as well. We were coming from my weekly Wednesday gig at Monarch where I do a coloring book happy hour.
“It’s very San Francisco out,” I said as we came up Taylor and saw the fog sliding its fingers down the sides of Nob Hill’s buildings. “I love summer in San Francisco,” I mused. “Me too,” Sabrina said, “I hate when people bitch about it. It’s part of San Francisco and loving it is part of being a San Franciscan.”
As we got to the entrance of Jones (620 Jones, SF. www.620-jones.com), the three of us landed on something we felt was important at the moment, that before this current gold rush, it was San Francisco’s summers that weeded out who would stay and who would go. You couldn’t take the mist and the fog? Then you got the fuck out of town. That fog is our inheritance and our merit badge and such a part of The City that you have to love it to live here.
Walking out onto the patio at Jones we were surprised there were no heat lamps. The entirely of the joint’s drinkers were crammed into the little sidebar adjacent to the patio, and as we sat down at the short end of the bar, the three of us gave each other a knowing glance. It said: How many of these people are experiencing their first San Francisco summer? How many would be considering packing up and heading back to wherever they’re from if they weren’t here for the gold rush? How many are living in apartments recently vacated by people whose love for the fog, and all it represents, just wasn’t enough to be able to keep them here?
Gene tipped the barman with a two-dollar bill. “Oh wow,” the bartender said, “you’re still doing that after all this time?” Gene told us he’d met him years before, during the first dot com boom, when the guy tended bar at 111 Minna. “Back then Minna was just a small one room space, not like it is now, Gene explained. “And I remember being there and learning for the first time how badly cocaine got on top of some people when these two girls, up from LA, were offering to blow people for blow.” As I looked around the room at all the pretty and well-dressed people, I wondered what they’d all be willing to do to get something they really wanted. I wondered the same thing about myself. What was I willing to do to stay in San Francisco if push came to shove and shove came to eviction.
Across the bar I noticed a friend who was obviously on a date and even more obviously drunk. “Hey look who it is,” I said to Sabrina who was also friends with the girl, and our conversation changed to the fact that, another integral part of living here is being ok with your past. “You can’t burn bridges,” Gene said, “since you’re bound to run into that person on a barstool sometime soon.” To which I replied, “If you burnt San Francisco’s bridges, all we’d be left with was the Peninsula…” The joke hit all three of us harder than expected. We looked around, looked at each other, and then left the bar. We felt more at home amid the fog anyways.
Stuart Schuffman aka Broke-Ass Stuart is a travel writer, poet, and TV host. You can find his online shenanigans at www.brokeassstuart.com
Streetcar standoff
San Francisco’s municipal transportation system stood still, stranding middle class riders. Riots raged throughout the city as over 1,500 streetcar drivers, known as carmen, literally fought with bottles and stones for higher wages. Left with few options, stranded San Franciscans took to other means to get to work: by foot, by bicycle, and by horse-drawn carriage.
The year was 1907, and United Railroads carmen raged against their Baltimore-based bosses in a year-long strike, in the wake of the great earthquake and fires that leveled much of the city of St. Francis. It was a clash that made last week’s Muni driver sickout look tepid and tame by comparison.
It was one of the single bloodiest strikes in San Francisco history,” Fred Glass, a California labor history teacher at City College of San Francisco, told us. “People were killed on both sides as the cars were run by armies of scabs.”
But minus the violence, the century-old union action has eerie parallels to last week’s Muni sickout, the “non-strike” in which nearly 500 Muni drivers left buses stagnant in garages across San Francisco. The similarities begin with anti-union sentiment in the mainstream press.
As the conservative-leaning San Francisco Chronicle did during this sickout, one of the city’s papers-of-record, The Call, lambasted the unions and city officials alike in 1907.
“Two of the most essential public utilities, the streetcar monopoly and the telephone monopoly, are tied up,” The Call wrote in a front-page editorial on May 06, 1907. “Where — and the question must suggest itself irresistibly to every man with a spoonful of brains — where does the public get off?”
A mob of strikers circle a streetcar at Turk and Fillmore, one site of violence during the 1907 carmen’s strike. San Francisco Examiner file photo courtesy of Market Street Railway, home of lots of interesting SF public transportation history.
The Call offered to publish the tirades of everyday citizens. Today, we can hear the hew and cry more directly. Last week, #MuniSickOut was a top San Francisco trending Twitter hashtag, as irate tweeters pounded their thumbs on smartphones with thoughts like that of user @ReggieMuth: “Grind the city to a halt? You should pay the consequences.”
Muth’s sentiment was echoed by many on the Twitterverse, and angry citizens emailed city leaders as well. One constituent wrote to Sup. David Chiu’s office that, “Public transportation workers held the public hostage for their greedy demand on pay and benefits.”
The San Francisco Municipal Transportation Agency proposed Muni workers pay into their pensions more than it was offering in salary increases, amounting to a pay cut of $1.10 per hour. Muni workers make on average $29.52 an hour, the sixth-highest paid transit workers in the nation, according to the SFMTA. But San Francisco also has the highest cost-of-living in the country.
Transit Workers Union Local 250-A President Eric Williams told us most Muni drivers were long ago priced out of living in San Francisco. “The only members that live inside the city are those who purchased a home 20 or so years ago,” he told us. “The majority of our members live outside the city.”
Muni workers’ wages used to be mandated to be the second-highest in the nation. But in 2010 voters passed Proposition G, requiring Muni worker wages be negotiated and subjected to binding arbitration that the union says is skewed in the city’s favor. But Prop. G and the city charter also prevents workers from striking, hence the drivers calling in sick en masse.
By modern standards the Muni sickout was labeled extreme, by the Chronicle and others. San Franciscans of 1907 feared the URR carmen’s strike for another reason: The workers were ready to die for their cause. Market Street Railway and issues of The Call recalled the strike christened on a day known as Bloody Tuesday.
On May 07, 1907, a mob of URR carmen formed outside the Turk and Fillmore carbarn. At 3:25pm, six streetcars emerged, greeted by a hail of sticks and stones from the strikers. The cars were driven by scabs who crossed the picket lines. More dangerously, they were also manned by gunmen at the behest of the infamous URR strikebreaker, James Farley.
A second pelting of sticks and stones drew action: Farley and his men opened fire on the crowd. Bullets sprayed wildly into nearby police and union men alike. The strikers ran for cover and fired back. A gun battle echoed past what is now a Bi-Rite grocery, ending only when the strikers lacked the ammo to carry on.
“CAR STRIKE LEADS TO BLOOD” read The Call’s headline on Wednesday, May 08, 1907. The first to die was 19-year-old James Walsh, a teamster who was shot through the head. Ultimately, two died and 20 were injured that day. The strikers would bear six fatalities by 1908.
BLOODY TUESDAY "The Call" — May 08 by Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez
San Francisco is not only experiencing transit strike deja vu, but a repeat of the economic circumstances around the historical Bloody Tuesday, with a wealth gap approaching historic highs. According to the Pew Research Center, in 2012 the top 1 percent of Americans took home about 22 percent of the nation’s wealth, and the bottom 90 percent of the country took home less than 50 percent of the nation’s wealth.
A look at a graph of income inequality shows two giant spikes of the 1 percent’s massive wealth, one spire in the modern era, and another spire planted firmly in the gilded era of the early 1900s, altered only by the Great Depression and the leveling economic policies adopted to address it.
“We’re back to the level of inequality that existed at that time now,” Glass said. “To me that suggests there’s the potential for that kind of explosive conflict between classes.”
The 1907 strike was one in a series of labor battles around the country as wealth became consolidated in fewer and fewer hands, peaking with the stock market crash of 1929, after which the continuing hard times led to one of the most famous union actions in San Francisco history: The Longshoreman’s Strike of 1934.
Led by Australian-born Harry Bridges, the Longshoreman’s Strike seized San Francisco even more boldly than on Bloody Tuesday, with other unions participating in a General Strike that paralyzed the city. That and other labor battles compelled Congress to adopt the National Labor Relations Act, cementing union power that strengthened the middle class, which is today disappearing.
Harry Bridges’ brought the city of San Francisco to a standstill.
“It’s poor or rich in this city,” TWU’s Willliams told us. “There’s no in between, that’s no secret.”
But worse than just a hollowing out of San Francisco’s middle class, modern workers teeter on the edge. Creatives, designers, tech employees, and other professionals are increasingly independent contractors, “freelancers” with little wage or job security protections. Many tech workers, notably younger and libertarian-leaning, also may have little experience with unions, Glass said.
The difference in sentiment between the 1900s and now may be that of will. Glass tells a story from one of his History of California Labor classes. The year was 1991, and as is usual with most community colleges, Glass’ class drew people of a wide range of ages.
“One of my students was a woman in her late 70s,” he recalled, “and she listened as I talked about the situation before the Longshoreman’s Strike. I mentioned some people were disappearing, people lost their jobs, there was a dark mood, even suicides. She stopped me right there.”
“She said ‘I was there, and what you’re saying is completely wrong. Sure, some people despaired, but when we organized, we had hope.You want to know about despair? Now is the real despair, because people don’t think they can change anything.'”
Let’s do lunch
culture@sfbg.com
HELLO, GORGEOUS
A very pretty restaurant just joined our downtown dining scene, Aveline (490 Geary, SF. www.avelinesf.com). Theatergoers, you have a new spot! The chef is Casey Thompson, whom many of you will recognize from the third season of Top Chef. She has crafted a New California menu, with plenty of creativity and beautiful plating. Start with truly decadent bites like yolk beignets with lardo or crab macarons. And of course the Texas native needed to have some fried chicken on the menu: Her updated version comes with kimchi powder and pickled vegetables.
There are two seating areas in the attractive dining room, with tufted upholstered seats and banquettes, or you can reserve one of the four seats at the chef’s counter, where she’ll just cook for you (off menu). This place would be perfect for a date, or a spot to take out-of-town visitors, or even have a business dinner. The room is stylish, but not too feminine, or too masculine either. Bonus: Just across the Warwick hotel lobby is The European, a sophisticated cocktail bar with a swanky lounge area in the back. Not only can you enjoy some lighter aperitif-style cocktails (try its namesake, The European), but Thompson has created a fun menu of bar bites, which helpfully includes a burger. And I can’t wait to try the “chips ‘n dip” of chicken skin “chips” with charred onion, smoked eggplant, and trout roe. Whoa. Both are open nightly.
BUSY BIZ LUNCH
With all these openings around town, you have a bunch of new lunchtime places to add to your list. First up, Thai hotspot Kin Khao (55 Cyril Magnin, SF. www.kinkhao.com) has reinstated its lunch service. Stop by the downtown spot for its pretty hot wings (sriracha lovers will dig ’em) and som tum papaya salad. Or fill up on the pork bowl with flat rice noodles, crispy belly, braised shoulder, and a runny-yolk egg in pork broth (perfect for our June gloom days). Hours are Mon–Fri 11:30am–2pm.
One of the exceptionally stylish places to open downtown is Gaspar Brasserie (185 Sutter, SF. www.gasparbrasserie.com), with two levels, two bars, and a brand-new lunchtime service — meaning you get to soak in all the swish ambience while dining on a tuna tartine or steak frites. Start your lunch with some oysters, I sure would. There are excellent lighter-style cocktails as well, so go for it, without the three-martini hangover. Lunch is served Mon–Fri 11:30am–3pm.
Have you checked out the updated Schroeder’s (240 Front, SF. www.schroederssf.com) yet? The hip space has plenty of seats for you: beer hall-style communal tables (popular at happy hour) and more traditional-style seating in the back. Lunch is served Mon–Fri 11:30am–2pm. Hello, duck pastrami salad (a mix of cabbage dressed in a very mustardy vinaigrette with rye croutons). You’ll also see the hearty chicken schnitzel sandwich on a lot of tables. Start with the potato pancakes (they’re good to share) and treat yourself to a light Kolsch for lunch — come on, it’s a beer hall!
The folks at Twenty Five Lusk (25 Lusk, SF. www.25lusk.com) have launched a weekday lunch service (Mon–Fri 11:30am–2pm), with a $15 special each day. You ready for the lineup? Okay, let’s do this. Mondays feature braised short ribs with truffled tater tots and a Syrah reduction (afternoon nap not included); Tuesdays bring a smoked duck tartine with bacon, fig mostarda, wild arugula, Fontina cheese, and Portuguese bread (sign me up); Wednesdays are grilled prawn soba noodles with mint, asparagus, and hoisin barbecue sauce (you gotta go light one day); Thursdays it’s Fried 38 North Chicken with salt-roasted new potatoes, sausage gravy, and cucumber salad (don’t tell your doctor); and on Fridays, you can get a Dungeness crab roll on buttermilk pain de mie, with drawn butter and wild arugula. (Hold me.)
Marcia Gagliardi is the founder of the weekly tablehopper e-column; subscribe for more at www.tablehopper.com. Get her app: Tablehopper’s Top Late-Night Eats. On Twitter: @tablehopper.
Shapeshifter
esilvers@sfbg.com
LEFT OF THE DIAL For Zakiya Harris, creativity has often grown out of loss. An Oakland native, Harris grew up singing in choirs, but “never really considered it a feasible career route,” she says. It wasn’t until college, when several people close to her passed away within the span of a couple years, that she began to pour herself into songwriting. “The music just started coming,” says the singer, teacher, and community organizer.
More than 15 years later, music acted as a lifeline yet again, and the result is Adventures of a Shapeshifter, Harris’ debut EP as a solo artist, out June 14; she’ll celebrate with a release show that same night at Oakland’s Awaken Cafe. With a mix of pop, hip-hop, electronic elements, and African-inspired percussion laying down a base for Harris’ soulful voice — it’s no surprise to hear her say she truly found her musical footing in Brooklyn, around the time The Roots were taking off — Shapeshifter‘s liveliness and joy hardly hints at the fact that, had the singer’s world not been totally shattered the year before, the record might not exist.
First, the nonprofit organization Harris ran lost its funding when she and her husband were a year and a half into buying their home in West Oakland; the organization collapsed, and the couple eventually lost their home. They divorced soon after, a split that took Harris away from the band and musical circles she’d been part of with her husband — notably, the established hip-hop crew Fiyawata — for the last 10 years.
“I was a wife, a homeowner, and a businesswoman, and then overnight everything shifted. All of a sudden I was a statistic — a single black woman, a mother, and I didn’t have a job,” says Harris. “Music was my solace, the place I went to express all the challenges I was going through, and try to channel all that energy into something.”
Zakiya Harris. Photo by Luke Abiol.
She recorded the bulk of the EP in a makeshift home studio — quite literally, using ProTools in a closet in her new apartment, she says with a laugh. “I got beats from different producers and just sang my heart out.” This was in the early days of Oakland’s Art Murmur, and Harris began performing these songs to the crowds that would gather on First Fridays. “I did a residency in the streets,” she says. “I was rebuilding my fan base, and I met a lot of new musicians, allies, local promoters that way.” Other East Bay bands like The Seshen and Bells Atlas became friends and collaborators; Harris eventually recruited the musicians that now make up her band the Elephantine.
As for the EP, Harris says it’s something of a coming-out for all of her identities, a statement about what it’s like to be a mother, musician, teacher, organizer, and businesswoman. It’s been a big few years: She has her hands in several nonprofits, co-founded a technology program for low-income youth of color, and was recently named director of the Bay Area Hive Learning Network, a social change laboratory.
“I went to law school, I became a social entrepreneur, and I’ve also been doing music my whole life,” she says. “This project is the first time I’ve been able to represent all my roles authentically. For a long time I felt ashamed of it, like I wasn’t doing my music family a service or my business a service, or being a mom. This record is about me realizing, we can do what we love, and we can be bold about it, and not feel ashamed about it.”
“You don’t have to cut off who you are, keep those roles so separate,” she adds. “In fact, the world is a better place when you don’t.”
Zakiya Harris and the Elephantine EP Release
With Antique Naked Soul and Miss Kia
Sat/14, 9pm, $10
Awaken Cafe
1429 Broadway, Oakl.
www.awakencafe.com
ADIOS AMIGO
Trying to make it as a musician in San Francisco arguably requires a certain amount of stubbornness — if not starry-eyed hope and obliviousness, at least a determination that you’re not going to let cynicism and the high cost of rent get the best of you, and you’re not going to measure your own worth by any rubric that involves commercial success. Johnny Major has that determination, but to hear him tell it, he also has no choice.
The singer and frontman of Adios Amigo — a jangly/moody indie pop outfit that started as a side project, as Major also drums for SF scene veterans Il Gato — has learned the hard way that not making music is simply not an option.
“I can’t live without playing music,” says Major simply, a week or so after releasing the band’s third EP in three years. Erasable Truth is a bright record with some disillusioned lyrics, a contrast that plays with the relationship between staying hopeful and getting jaded, between melancholy and introspection and positivity and focus. All of it has somehow been funneled into warm, horn-punctuated little gems of very sweet pop music. Comparisons to Built to Spill and Broken Social Scene (certainly, at least, the moods induced by listening to the latter) are apt.
Johnny Major of Adios Amigo.
“I think in comparison with the other EPs, it’s a little more jaded,” allows Major. “It’s darker, there are some strains of sarcasm.” He note that the band’s lineup has shifted, dissolved, re-formed and dissolved again over the course of the band’s four-year lifespan. That was part of the inspiration for the record’s title — the idea of coming to terms with the fact that “there is really no sense in trying to hold onto things, to finding truth…all you can really do is try to make sense of life on the fly, and try to seek a medium of expression that’s satisfying, that allows you to connect with other people.”
“I’ve been playing music in the Bay Area for six years in several projects, and I have a ridiculous amount of time and money invested, and having to have a day job when all you really want to do is play music, especially in a city this expensive…it’s a constant struggle with disillusionment,” he elaborates. “You do get to the point of, ‘Why the fuck am I doing this?’ But I can’t give up, regardless of how illogical it might be. It’s a spiritual thing for me — you gotta feel alive, you gotta feel passionate. And there’s a certain one-ness I only get from playing music.”
Check Adios Amigo on Facebook for upcoming shows and the like: www.facebook.com/adiosamigomusic
A handful of other new releases from local bands that have gotten more than one spin in my, um, virtual Discman:
K.Flay, the unassuming-looking rapper/singer/Stanford alum who formerly called SF home (these days she’s bouncing between coasts), has finally released a full-length, Life As a Dog, after freeing herself up from her former label. I just met with her in Oakland the week before the record dropped; check this space next week for a full-length interview.
Monster Treasure, self-titled LP, out June 2 on Harlot Records: Lo-fi, lady-fronted, melodic garage fuzz-punk from Stockton. This three-year-old trio has a handful of sweet EPs to their name, but this studio debut should take them to the next level; they put on a hell of a show at SF Popfest in May, and are currently touring the Pacific Northwest. Check www.facebook.com/monstertreasure for more.
No Worries, the debut LP from SF’s barely year-old rockers WAG, doesn’t sound like a debut LP. Singer Lucas Nerlva’s vocals have a natural Julian Casablancas-esque snarl to them, paired with hard-driving guitar hooks. Worth keeping an eye on. They’ll hit Thee Parkside Aug. 7 with Coo Coo Birds and The Singles; check www.facebook.com/wagband for more.
Tropical impressions
cheryl@sfbg.com
FILM We’re neck-deep in local film festival season right now — which, yeah, is kind of 12 months out of the year around here, but the SF Silent Film and Green Film festivals just ended, DocFest is underway, and Frameline starts June 19 — but there are plenty of reasons to carve out time for Yerba Buena Center for the Arts’ outstanding New Filipino Cinema mini-fest this weekend.
A big one is opening-night selection How to Disappear Completely; director Raya Martin, a bright light in the Philippines’ burgeoning indie film scene, will appear in person at the screening. This is a good thing, since Disappear is a bit of a head-scratcher, but in a commendable way — part coming-of-age drama, part dreamy puzzle, part old-school exploitation flick (I can’t be the only viewer who sees Martin’s shot of someone pawing through a pot full of intestines and immediately thinks of Herschell Gordon Lewis). Martin told the Philippine Star that Disappear was partially inspired by 1980s American horror filmmakers like Wes Craven, and there are fragments of 1984’s Nightmare on Elm Street lurking in this tale of a troubled tomboy (Ness Roque) whose vibrations of high-tension fear conjure a sinister spirit only she can see. This, on top of threats both natural — her island home is dark and lush, with nature’s stormy menace permeating every frame — and domestic: “You think the road home is safe? No one will hear you when you scream,” snarls her mother, who has a bit of Carrie White’s Bible-thumping mama in her.
Mom’s not even the biggest issue, though — that’d be the girl’s drunk, leering father (Noni Buencamino, one of the country’s most acclaimed actors — along with his wife, Shamaine Buencamino, who plays his wife in Disappear), who lurches around with a loaded shotgun and spends all his money betting on cockfights. Aside from its more experimental sequences, which are set to a buzzing electronic soundtrack (and thankfully, no Radiohead), Disappear‘s deliberately loose narrative pivots around strained dinner-table conversations among this dangerously dysfunctional family. Most of the longer passages of dialogue take the form of recitations: Bible stories (Lot and his daughters get a thematically appropriate shout out); folklore (a surprisingly funny tale involving a royal chicken); and a school recital on Filipino history, in which the young heroine plays a gun and her classmates, portraying vengeful villagers, warn the parent-filled audience: “We are going to hunt you down!”
Disappear‘s title card appears a full hour in, or nearly at the end of this 79-minute tale; it’s a blazing beacon in a film otherwise dominated by water imagery. Things only get bleaker, more surreal, and more shockingly violent from there. “If you’re wondering why we’re making such a fuss about new Filipino cinema, this is a great place to start,” explain series co-programmers Joel Shepard and Philbert Ortiz Dy in their program notes.
A far sunnier view of youth in the Philippines emerges in Sigrid Andrea P. Bernardo’s Anita’s Last Cha-Cha, also about a tomboy, whose coming-of-age through first love begs the question why this film isn’t called Anita’s First Cha-Cha instead. Anita is 12 and not ready to embrace puberty, despite her widowed mother’s best efforts to dress her up like a princess for the community’s annual fertility festival. This all changes when she catches sight of long-limbed lovely Pilar, the former town beauty who’s returned after a stint studying physical therapy abroad. As Pilar sets up a massage practice in her house (not surprisingly, the local men line up for appointments), Anita begins spending all of her time daydreaming about the older woman.
Of course, her fantasy girlfriend — who has a tortured romantic past with Anita’s age-appropriate male cousin — is just that, and the two become allies as the story takes a melodramatic turn. Writer-director Bernardo will attend the screening in person to discuss her feature debut.
Probably the most high-profile entry in the YBCA series is Sean Ellis’ urban thriller Metro Manila, which won an Audience Award at the 2013 Sundance Film Festival, as well as the top prize at that year’s British Independent Film Awards. Ellis is a Brit, but Metro Manila is acted (splendidly) by an all-Filipino cast. After a meager harvest, naïve farmer Oscar (Jake Macapagal) convinces his wife, Mai (Althea Vega), to move with their small children to the big city in search of work. But the grimy metropolis proves a dangerous place, and what’s essentially a predictable tale of country-bumpkin-learns-a-hard-lesson-on-the-mean-streets is elevated by a ruthlessly desperate tone and a killer performance by John Arcilla (as Oscar’s shifty new co-worker). Even better: a couple of clever last-act twists that shake up the story’s seemingly inevitable arc.
These three films are just a surface glimpse of what New Filipino Cinema has in store. Closing night’s screening of Brillante Mendoza’s Thy Womb, starring veteran superstar Nora Aunor, is already sold out, but fret not: The film, the much-praised latest from the director of 2009’s controversial Kinatay, returns to the YBCA for its own engagement June 26-29. Also screening post-fest is Lav Diaz’s acclaimed Norte, The End of History (June 19-20), a 250-minute epic inspired by Crime and Punishment. *
NEW FILIPINO CINEMA
Wed/11-Sun/15, $8-$10
Yerba Buena Center for the Arts
701 Mission, SF
Dark/light
marke@sfbg.com
SUPER EGO Vampires beware, or at least grab a pair of killer shades. A recent, very late walk of shame (both heels broken but my rep intact) revealed that afternoon outdoor parties are currently raging full-tilt. So invite me to your dang retro-fidget-yacht-goth-IDM BBQ already! I promise not to spill anything. Everybody looks great in hot sauce, anyway.
Soundtracks for this week: infamous local synth-dance act The Soft Pink Truth’s brain-melting return Why Do the Heathens Rage: Electronic Profanations of Black Metal Classics, Quivver’s groovy (and timely) extended rework of “Ain’t Nothin’ Going On But the Rent,” and DJ Greg Wilson’s psychedelic-funk mixtape Blind Arcade Meets Super Weird Substance In The Morphogenetic Field. OK, let’s go.
HI LIFE
Glorious global soul weekly Afrolicious may have moved on to conquer the world as a touring act, but don’t cry: In its place is this tropical beats and live funk jams showcase from key Afrolicious members. “Expect elevation,” say DJs Pleasuremaker and Izzy Wise.
Thursdays starting Thu/12, 9pm, $6. Elbo Room, 647 Valencia, SF. www.elbo.com
RANDOM RAB
Beautifully constructed, all-encompassing post-Orb grooves that hit a global ambient-funk sweetspot from this San Franciscan. Support from local bass-tech heroes Justin Martin and J. Phlip (and a dozen more), plus mindbending décor and organic treats from the Symbiosis crew.
Thu/12, 9pm-3am, $15–$20. 1015 Folsom, SF. www.1015.com
ADULT.
Live Detroit art-tech darlings were lumped in with electroclash back in the day, but they cut oh so much deeper. With brainy-cute goth-raver Pictureplane, ghostly White Ring, and evil siren/playmate Tamara Sky, this will certainly be an edgy night of stylish Friday 13 dread.
Fri/13, 9pm-late, $15–$20. Mezzanine, 444 Jessie, SF. www.mezzaninesf.com
DANNY KRIVIT
Body and Soul legend (and my eternal DJ crush) brings his rare Latin house and gorgeously smooth mixing style to the Salted party, with Miguel Miggs, Julius Papp. and much-loved Naked Music vocalist Lisa Shaw.
Sat/14, 10pm-late, $10–$20. Mighty, 119 Utah, SF. www.mighty119.com
JACQUES RENAULT
Beam me up! The DFA disco-funk addict possesses one of the sharpest sensibilities out there, sending dancers to truly cosmic places. Hosted by the fantastic, female-powered Isis party.
Sat/14, 9:30pm-3:30am, $10 advance. Public Works, 131 Erie, SF. www.publicsf.com
SUNSET ISLAND
Our incomparable summer nightlife season continues, marked by the Sunset crew’s passing annual parties. Time for this “electronic music picnic” on Treasure Island, which — squee!!! — features Phuture, the dudes from Chicago who basically invented acid house. Also on hand: Detroit whiz kid Kyle Hall and Awesome Tapes From Africa, which is exactly what it sounds like. Acid sunshine, y’all.
Sat/14, noon-9pm, $10–$30. Great Lawn, Treasure Island. www.tinyurl.com/sunsetisland2014
DAYTIME REALNESS
I admit it, I had my doubts about this monthly afternoon party at first — everyone seemed to be smiling so hard in the pics, I thought they’d eat me. Especially towering drag hostess Heklina (who just bought the old club Oasis at 11th and Folsom, btw.) Then I went and got completely sucked in, in a non-oral way. Gorgeous mixed crowd, insanely good beats from DJs Stanley and Carnita — special guests this month Guy Ruben and beloved Trannyshack regular Pinky Ring — synchronized dance numbers, wild drag shenanigans, and Sneaky’s BBQ. Shit got real.
Sun/15, 2pm-8pm, $6 before 3pm, $8 after. El Rio, 3158 Mission, SF. www.elriosf.com
DISCO DADDY
Who knew a gay leather biker bar could get this steamy? If you’re looking for an authentic homosexual disco experience (who isn’t), DJ Bus Station John and his crate of vinyl 12-inches will put some soul in your gloryhole at this monthly get-down.
Sun/15, 7pm-2am, $5. SF Eagle 398 12th St, SF. www.sf-eagle.com
Film Listings: June 11-17, 2014
Film listings are edited by Cheryl Eddy. Reviewers are Kimberly Chun, Dennis Harvey, Lynn Rapoport, and Sara Maria Vizcarrondo. For rep house showtimes, see Rep Clock.
DOCFEST
The 13th San Francisco Documentary Film Festival runs through June 19 at the Brava Theater, 2781 York, SF; Roxie Theater, 3117 16th St, SF; and Oakland School of the Arts Theater, 530 19th St, Oakl. For tickets (most shows $12) and complete schedule, visit www.sfindie.com.
OPENING
Alone Yet Not Alone Remember that Christian historical drama that was Oscar-nominated for Best Song but then got kicked out of the running because of the songwriter’s sketchy campaign tactics? No? Well, here ’tis. (1:43)
Gore Vidal: The United States of Amnesia Nicholas Wrathall’s highly entertaining documentary pays tribute to one of the 20th century’s most brilliant, original, and cranky thinkers, with extensive input from the man himself before his death in 2012 at age 86. The emphasis here is less on Vidal’s life as a literary lion and often glittering celebrity social life than on his parallel career as a harsh scold of US social injustices and political corruption. (Needless to say, recent history only sharpened his tongue in that department, with George W. Bush dismissed as “a goddamn fool,” and earlier statements such as “This is a country of the rich, for the rich and by the rich” seeming more apt than ever.) He’s a wellspring of wisdoms both blunt and witty, sometimes surprising, as in his hindsight doubts about the virtues of JFK (a personal friend) as a president. We get plenty of colorful archival clips in which he’s seen verbally jousting with such famous foes as William F. Buckley and Norman Mailer, invariably reducing them to stammering fury while remaining exasperatingly unruffled. His “out” homosexuality and outré views on sexuality in general (at odds with an increasingly assimilationist gay community) kept him controversial even among many liberals, while conservatives were further irked by his rock-solid family connections to the ruling elite. In our era of scripted political rhetoric and pandering anti-intellectualism, it’s a joy merely to spend an hour and half in the company of someone so brilliantly articulate on seemingly any topic — but particularly on the perpetually self-mythologizing, money-worshipping state of our Union. (1:29) Opera Plaza, Shattuck. (Harvey)
How to Train Your Dragon 2 Sequel to the 2010 animated hit about Vikings and their dragon buddies, with voices by Jay Baruchel, Cate Blanchett, Gerard Butler, Djimon Honsou, America Ferrera, Kit Harington, Jonah Hill, and others. (1:42) Four Star, Presidio.
Obvious Child We first encounter the protagonist of writer-director Gillian Robespierre’s funny, original film — a Brooklyn-dwelling twentysomething named Donna (Jenny Slate), who works at a lefty secondhand bookstore and makes regular (if unpaid) appearances at a local comedy night — onstage mining such underdiscussed topics as the effects of vaginal discharge on your garden-variety pair of underwear. This proves a natural segue to other hefty nuggets of embarrassment gold concerning her love life, to the dismay of boyfriend Ryan (Paul Briganti), auditing from the back of the club. He pretty much deserves it, however, for what he’s about to do, which is break up with her in a nasty, well-populated unisex bathroom, taking time to repeatedly glance at the texts coming through on his phone from Donna’s good friend, with whom he’s sleeping. So when Donna, mid-drowning of sorrows, meets a nice-looking fellow named Max (Jake Lacy) at the bar, his post-fraternity-presidency aesthetic seems unlikely to deter her from a one-night stand. The ensuing trashed make-out dance-off in Max’s apartment to the Paul Simon song of the title is both comic and adorable. The fractured recap of the evening’s condom-free horizontal events that occurs inside Donna’s brain three weeks later, as she hunkers down with her best friend, Nellie (Gaby Hoffmann), in the bookstore’s bathroom after peeing on a stick, is equally hilarious — and unwanted-pregnancy jokes aren’t that easy to pull off. Robespierre’s treatment of this extended windup and of Donna’s decision to have an abortion is a witty, warmhearted retort to 2007’s Knocked Up, a couple generations’ worth of Hollywood rom-com writers, and an entertainment industry that continues to perform its sweaty contortions of storytelling in the gutless cause of avoiding the A-word. (1:15) Embarcadero. (Rapoport)
The Signal Sharing its title with a 2007 film — also a thriller about a mysterious transmission that wreaks havoc in the lives of its protagonists — this offbeat feature from co-writer and director William Eubank belies its creator’s deep affection for, and knowledge of, the sci-fi genre. Number one thing The Signal is not is predictable, but its twists feel organic even as the story takes one hairpin turn after another. MIT buddies Nic (Brenton Thwaites) and Jonah (Beau Knapp) are driving Nic’s girlfriend, Haley (Olivia Cooke), cross-country to California. Complicating the drama of the young couple’s imminent separation is Nic’s deteriorating physical condition (it’s never explained, but the former runner apparently has MS or some other neurological disease). The road trip turns dark when the trio (who also happen to be hackers) realize an Internet troll they’ve tangled with in the past is stalking them. After a brief detour into found-footage horror — fooled ya, Eubank seems to be saying; this ain’t that kind of movie at all! — the kids find themselves embroiled in ever-more-terrifying realities. To give away more would ruin the fun of being shocked for yourself, but think Twilight Zone meets Area 51 meets a certain futuristic trilogy starring Laurence Fishburne, who turns up here to play a very important role in Nic and company’s waking nightmare. (1:37) California. (Eddy)
Supermensch: The Legend of Shep Gordon See “Puff Piece.” (1:24) Embarcadero.
22 Jump Street Comedy cops Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum return for more undercover sleuthing in a slightly more age-appropriate milieu: college. (1:45) Marina, Shattuck.
ONGOING
The Amazing Spider-Man 2 The best thing about The Amazing Spider-Man 2 — the sequel to the 2012 reboot that nobody really wanted in the first place — is the achingly cute chemistry between real-life couple Andrew Garfield (Peter Parker/Spider-Man) and Emma Stone (Gwen Stacy, whose fate is no spoiler to anyone who is familiar with the Spider-Man canon). Can’t deny it; those two are adorbs. But since Spider-Man is supposed to be an action movie, not a romantic comedy, it spends most of its time setting up foes for the webslinger (Jamie Foxx as a nerd zapped into the power-mad Electro; Dane DeHaan as bratty rich kid Harry Osborn), as well as rehashing the mysterious deaths of Peter’s parents, and underlining for approximately the zillionth time the disconnect between the media’s perception of Spider-Man (he’s a menace! He interferes with police work!) and the ecstatic love the people of New York have for the guy — understandable, since he’s in the business of saving their butts on a regular basis. This isn’t a crappy movie by any means; it’s entertaining enough, and the 3D swooping-between-skyscrapers FX have gotten quite dazzling. But there’s still a heavy air of “This again?” that hangs over the whole thing. Doesn’t Marvel have enough dough from the Avengers movies to let Spidey take an extended vacation? (2:20) Metreon. (Eddy)
Belle The child of a British naval officer and a Caribbean slave, Belle (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) is deposited on the doorstep — well, the estate grounds — of her father’s relatives in 1769 England after her mother dies. Soon she’s entirely orphaned, which makes her a wealthy heiress and aristocratic title holder at the same time that she is something less than human in the eyes of her adopted society. For Belle is black (or more properly, mixed-race), and thus a useless curiosity at best as a well-bred noblewoman of the “wrong” racial makeup. Based on a murky actual historical chapter, Amma Asante’s film is that rare sumptuous costume drama which actually has something on its mind beyond romance and royalty. Not least among its pleasures are a fine supporting cast including Tom Wilkinson, Miranda Richardson, Penelope Wilton, and Emily Watson. (1:45) Embarcadero, Piedmont, Shattuck. (Harvey)
Blended (1:57) SF Center.
Captain America: The Winter Soldier Marvel’s most wholesome hero returns in this latest film in the Avengers series, and while it doesn’t deviate from the expected formula (it’s not a spoiler to say that yes, the world is saved yet again), it manages to incorporate a surprisingly timely plot about the dangers of government surveillance. Steve Rogers (Chris Evans), hunkiest 95-year-old ever, is still figuring out his place in the 21st century after his post-World War II deep freeze. Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) has him running random rescue missions with the help of Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), but SHIELD is working on a top-secret project that will allow it to predict crimes before they occur. It isn’t long before Cap’s distrust of the weapon — he may be old-fashioned, but he ain’t stupid — uncovers a sinister plot led by a familiar enemy, with Steve’s former BFF Bucky doing its bidding as the science-experiment-turned-assassin Winter Soldier (Sebastian Stan). Anthony Mackie, Robert Redford, and series regular Cobie Smulders are fine in supporting roles, and Johansson finally gets more to do than punch and pose, but the likable Evans ably carries the movie — he may not have the charisma of Robert Downey Jr., but he brings wit and depth to a role that would otherwise be defined mainly by biceps and CG-heavy fights. Oh, and you know the drill by now: superfans will want to stick around for two additional scenes tucked into the end credits. (2:16) Metreon. (Eddy)
Chef Not to take anything away from the superhero crew, but Chef feels like the closest thing to a labor of love from writer, director, and star Jon Favreau in many a day. As a director, he may have been making doughnuts — fun-filled and teeming with CGI eye candy, but doughnuts nevertheless — when it came to effects-driven blockbusters like 2008’s Iron Man, but this well-meaning play for the heart, by way of the stomach, shows you where Favreau’s head is really at. Chef revolves around Carl Casper (Favreau), a onetime food star, now reduced to serving up predictable crowd-pleasers at the behest of his restaurant’s overbearing owner (Dustin Huffman). It takes the barbs of an influential critic (Oliver Platt) — and an ensuing Twitter war — to set Carl off and send him away on his own, at the coaxing of his glam ex Inez (Sofia Vergara). Hooked up with a dilapidated food truck and former kitchen staffer Martin (John Leguizamo), and aided by ably Tweeting son Percy (Emjay Anthony), Carl ties his dreams — and lost passion — to the classic Cuban sandwich. The ensuing road trip from Miami to LA, and Carl’s journey toward self and a renewed relationship with his son, is a fun (if, in the end, a bit too speedily sketched) vault through the joys of eating your way through America’s new culinary heartland. Amid the volley of sign-of-the-times social-media swinging and cameos by the uncostumed Robert Downey Jr., Scarlett Johansson, and the like, Favreau’s main dish is that a family that eats, cooks, and runs a business together, stays together — child labor laws or no. (1:55) 1000 Van Ness, Metreon, Presidio, Sundance Kabuki. (Chun)
The Dance of Reality His unique vision recently re-introduced to audiences by unmaking-of documentary Jodorowsky’s Dune, cinematic fabulist Alejandro Jodorowsky is back with his first film in a quarter-century. This autobiographical fantasia shows all initial signs of being a welcome yet somewhat redundant retread of his cult-famed early work (1970’s El Topo, 1973’s The Holy Mountain), as Santa Sangre was in 1989. It starts with the filmmaker himself fulminating wisdoms about the spiritual emptiness of a money-centric world, then appearing as guardian angel to his child self (Jeremias Herskovits). Little Alejandro is raised by a bullying, hyper macho father (Brontis Jodorowsky) and warm, indulgent mother (soprano Pamela Flores, singing every line of dialogue) who naturally clash at every turn. Jodorowsky’s stunning eye for bizarre imagery (abetted by DP Jean-Marie Dreujou’s handsome compositions) hasn’t faded, so there are delights to be had even in what fans might consider an over-familiar parade of dwarfs, amputees, anti clerical burlesques (like a dress-up dog beauty contest at church), Chaplinesque circus sentimentality, and other simple if surreal illustrations of society’s eternal victims and overlords. At a certain point, however, the misdeeds of father Jaime force his self-exile. The film’s consequent picaresque allegory of epic suffering toward redemption becomes cheerfully goofy, its symbol-strewn path increasingly funny and sweet rather than burdened by import. A large part of that appeal is due to junior Jodorowsky Brontis, who demonstrates considerable farcical esprit while flashing more full-frontal nudity than Michael Fassbender and Ewan McGregor combined ever dreamed of obliging. Shot in the family’s native Chile on a purported crowd funded budget of $3 million — could Hollywood provide so much original spectacle for 30 times that amount?—The Dance of Reality finds its 84-year-old maker as frisky as a pony, one that provides an endearingly unpredictable ride. (2:10) California, Opera Plaza. (Harvey)
Edge of Tomorrow Is it OK to root for Tom Cruise again? (The Oprah thing was almost a decade ago, after all.) The entertaining Edge of Tomorrow, crisply directed by Bourne series vet Doug Liman, takes what’s most irritating about Cruise’s persona (he’s so goddamn earnest) and uses it to great advantage, casting him as military PR guru Cage — repping our armed forces on talk shows amid battles with alien invaders dubbed “Mimics” — whose oiliness masks the fact that he’s terrified of actual combat. When he’s forced to fight by a no-nonsense superior (Brendan Gleeson), he’s gruesomely killed, along with nearly every other human soldier. But wait! Thanks to a particularly close encounter with outer-space pixie dust, he awakens, unharmed, to re-live the day, over and over again (yep, shades of a certain Bill Murray comedy classic). Each “reset” offers Cage a chance to work his way closer to changing the course of the war in humanity’s favor, with key help from a badass (Emily Blunt) whose heroics on the battlefield have earned her the nickname “Full Metal Bitch.” Nothing groundbreaking here — but Edge of Tomorrow manages to make its satisfying plot as important as its 3D explosions, which means it automatically rises above what passes for popcorn fun these days. (1:53) Four Star, Metreon, 1000 Van Ness, Presidio, Sundance Kabuki. (Eddy)
Fading Gigolo Ah, the charm of a well-aged, seasoned perv &ldots; nope, we don’t dare touch the Woody Allen/Dylan Farrow abuse allegations — though those recent headlines flit around the edges of this generally benevolent, almost strangely innocuous charmer, written by and directed John Turturro, who also stars as the curiously blank-faced tabula rasa of a title character. The delights of Mrs. Robinsons have been rhapsodized on film, through the lens of worshipful younger men — less so, their male counterparts, as viewed by other hetero men. The danger of bromance surging into the homoerotic is likely too dire for most, yet somehow bookstore boss Murray (Allen) sees the mysterious, submerged sex appeal in his loyal employee Fioravante (Turturro) and taps him to get involved in a ménage à trois with a society dermatologist (Sharon Stone). The soft-spoken Fioravante turns out to be a smash in the sack with the doc, transforming the opportunistic Murray into a wildly successful pimp as his employee takes on the audacious Selima (Sofia Vergara) and the prim Jewish Orthodox widow Avigal (Vanessa Paradis). The latter character seems to have come straight from another place and time — much like this film, which turns Brooklyn into a something resembling a leaf-strewn European village and recalls odes to revolutionary sexuality in the ’60s. The movie’s lightly absurd comedy is embedded in the fact that Turturro writes himself into the role of the seducer, the pleaser, while wrapped in the skin of pleasant if everyday-looking Joe, although Paradis, a revelation as a deeply repressed devout mother slowly awakening to her body, points to more serious pleasures, lingering below the surface of all of us. (1:30) Opera Plaza. (Chun)
The Fault in Our Stars I confess: I’m no card-carrying, vlog-flogging Nerdfighter in author John Green’s teen-geek army. But one can admire the passion — and teary romanticism — of the writer, readers, and the breakthrough novel that started it all. Much has been made over the cinematic tweaks to the best-selling YA book, but those seem like small beefs: OK, male romantic lead Gus’s (Ansel Elgort) perhaps-understandable brattiness seems to have been toned down a touch, but we’ll all get the somewhat-subversive push and pull of Green’s love story centered on two cancer-stricken innocents. Sixteen-year-old Hazel (a radiant Shailene Woodley) has been battling cancer almost all her life, fighting back from the brink, and now making her way every day with an oxygen tank and her devoted parents (Laura Dern, Sam Trammel) by her side. Her mordant wit, skeptical attitude, and smarts attract Gus, a handsome teen with a prosthetic leg, at a cancer support group, and the two embark on what seems like the most normal thing in the world — sweet, sweet love — albeit cut with the poignancy of almost-certain doom. Would the girl who calls herself a grenade dare to care for someone she will likely hurt? That’s the real question on her mind when the two reach out to the solitary author (Willem Dafoe) of their favorite book, An Imperial Affliction. The journey the two make leaves them both open to more hurt than either ever imagined, and though a good part of Fault‘s denouement boils down to a major puddle cuddle — with solid performances by all, but particularly Dern and Woodley — even a cynic is likely to get a bit misty as the kids endure all the stages of loss. And learning. (2:05) Marina, 1000 Van Ness, SF Center, Sundance Kabuki. (Chun)
Fed Up Katie Couric narrates, produces, and brings celebrity heft to Stephanie Soechtig’s well-crafted expose on the alarmingly powerful food industry — specifically, revealing how “nutritional standards” put forth by the government over the past 30 years have actually caused the nation’s current obesity epidemic. Fed Up‘s straightforward combination of simple facts (80 percent of food items have added sugar); talking-head experts (Bill Clinton, UCSF’s Dr. Robert Lustig); historical fact-finding (including a segment that convincingly compares today’s food industry to the tobacco industry of yore); and profiles of dangerously overweight teens (all of whom are trying, and failing, to lose weight) adds up to a film that is poised to have An Inconvenient Truth-style impact on viewers — and will hopefully
open enough eyes to make waves beyond movie theaters. (1:32) California, Embarcadero. (Eddy)
Godzilla Bearing the weight of a 1998 American debut so stinky that devotees of the Japanese original dubbed it “GINO” (for “Godzilla in Name Only”), the King of the Monsters returns for a do-over that smells more like generic summer entertainment than anything else. We begin in 1999, when a pair of scientists (Ken Watanabe and Sally Hawkins) discover a giant skeleton of sorts in the Philippines — just as a deadly accident (or was it?) devastates a Japanese nuclear power plant. Fifteen years later, the scientists are still on the trail of Whatever That Was, while guilty power-plant survivor Bryan Cranston has become a greasy-haired conspiracy theorist, much to the annoyance of his San Francisco-based Navy officer son (Aaron Taylor-Johnson). The humans in Gareth Edwards’ film don’t actually matter much; aside from Cranston and to a much lesser extent Watanabe, none of the characters are interesting or memorable, and the plot — which has Big G lumbering after a pair of “Massive Unidentified Terrestrial Organisms” who decide to incubate their eggs in downtown SF — is also a low-stakes affair. (If you believe for a second that Taylor-Johnson’s doe-eyed wife and son won’t survive the monster attack, I have a busted-up Golden Gate Bridge to sell you.) But the monster design is plenty satisfying, and really, it’s just fine that Godzilla — who wrinkles his snout in annoyance at those pesky MUTOs — is this film’s one and only charismatic presence; dude’s going on a 70-year career at this point. (2:03) Metreon, 1000 Van Ness, Sundance Kabuki. (Eddy)
The Grand Budapest Hotel Is this the first Wes Anderson movie to feature a shootout? It’s definitely the first Anderson flick to include a severed head. That’s not to say The Grand Budapest Hotel, “inspired by” the works of Austrian novelist Stefan Zweig, represents too much of a shift for the director — his intricate approach to art direction is still very much in place, as are the deadpan line deliveries and a cast stuffed with Anderson regulars. But there’s a slightly more serious vibe here, a welcome change from 2012’s tooth-achingly twee Moonrise Kingdom. Thank Ralph Fiennes’ performance as liberally perfumed concierge extraordinaire M. Gustave, which mixes a shot of melancholy into the whimsy, and newcomer Tony Revolori as Zero, his loyal lobby boy, who provides gravitas despite only being a teenager. (Being played by F. Murray Abraham as an older adult probably helps in that department.) Hotel‘s early 20th century Europe setting proves an ideal canvas for Anderson’s love of detail — the titular creation rivals Stanley Kubrick’s rendering of the Overlook Hotel — and his supporting cast, as always, looks to be enjoying the hell out of being a part of Anderson’s universe, with Willem Dafoe, Jeff Goldblum, and Adrien Brody having particularly oversized fun. Is this the best Wes Anderson movie since 2001’s The Royal Tenenbaums? Yes. (1:40) California, 1000 Van Ness, Piedmont, Sundance Kabuki. (Eddy)
The Grand Seduction Canadian actor-director Don McKellar (1998’s Last Night) remakes 2003 Quebecois comedy Seducing Doctor Lewis, about a depressed community searching for the town doctor they’ll need before a factory will agree to set up shop and bring much-needed jobs to the area. Canada is still the setting here, with the harbor’s name — Tickle Head — telegraphing with zero subtlety that whimsy lies ahead. A series of events involving a Tickle Head-based TSA agent, a bag of cocaine, and a harried young doctor (Taylor Kitsch) trying to avoid jail time signals hope for the hamlet, and de facto town leader Murray (Brendan Gleeson) snaps into action. The seduction of “Dr. Paul,” who agrees to one month of service not knowing the town is desperate to keep him, is part Northern Exposure culture clash, part Jenga-like stack of lies, as the townspeople pretend to love cricket (Paul’s a fanatic) and act like his favorite lamb dish is the specialty at the local café. The wonderfully wry Gleeson is the best thing about this deeply predictable tale, which errs too often on the side of cute (little old ladies at the switchboard listening in on Paul’s phone-sex with his girlfriend!) rather than clever, as when an unsightly structure in the center of town is explained away with a fake “World Heritage House” plaque. Still, the scenery is lovely, and “cute” doesn’t necessarily mean “not entertaining.” (1:52) Albany, Embarcadero. (Eddy)
Ida The bomb drops within the first ten minutes: after being gently forced to reconnect with her only living relative before taking her vows, novice nun Anna (Agata Trzebuchowska) learns that her name is actually Ida, and that she’s Jewish. Her mother’s sister, Wanda (Agneta Kulesza) — a Communist Party judge haunted by a turbulent past she copes with via heavy drinking, among other vices — also crisply relays that Ida’s parents were killed during the Nazi occupation, and after some hesitation agrees to accompany the sheltered young woman to find out how they died, and where their bodies were buried. Drawing great depth from understated storytelling and gorgeous, black-and-white cinematography, Pawel Pawilowski’s well-crafted drama offers a bleak if realistic (and never melodramatic) look at 1960s Poland, with two polar-opposite characters coming to form a bond as their layers of painful loss rise to the surface. (1:20) Albany, Clay, Piedmont. (Eddy)
The Immigrant Ewa (Marion Cotilliard) is an orphaned Polish émigré who’s separated from her sickly sister at Ellis Island in 1921, and scheduled for deportation as an alleged “woman of low morals.” She’s rescued from that by Bruno (Joaquin Phoenix), though he’s not quite the agent of charity he seems — in fact, Ewa doesn’t realize she’s actually been recruited for a prostitution racket he thinly veils as a theatrical troupe. Still, she stays, believing she has no other viable path to freeing her sister from quarantine, she allows her own degradation for money’s sake. This latest collaboration between Phoenix and director-coscenarist James Gray is a handsome period piece that’s done skillfully and tastefully enough to downplay — but not quite hide — the fact that its moral melodrama might as well have been written (as well as set) nearly a century ago. Cotilliard is fine in her best English-language role to date, and Phoenix is compelling as usual; Jeremy Renner is somewhat miscast as a distant-third lead. But whether you find The Immigrant poignant or forced will depend on your tolerance for a script whose every turn is all too predictable. (2:00) Metreon, Piedmont. (Harvey)
The Lunchbox Ila (Nimrat Kaur) is a self-possessed housewife and a great cook, whose husband confuses her for another piece of furniture. She tries to arouse his affections with elaborate lunches she makes and sends through the city’s lunchbox delivery service. Like marriage in India, lunchbox delivery has a failure rate of zero, which is what makes aberrations seem like magical occurrences. So when widow Saajan (Irrfan Khan) receives her adoring food, he humbly receives the magical lunches like a revival of the senses. Once Ila realizes her lunchbox is feeding the wrong man she writes a note and Saajan replies — tersely, like a man who hasn’t held a conversation in a decade — and the impossible circumstances lend their exchanges a romance that challenges her emotional fidelity and his retreat from society. She confides her husband is cheating. He confides his sympathy for men of lower castes. It’s a May/December affair if it’s an affair at all — but the chemistry we expect the actors to have in the same room is what fuels our urge to see it; that’s a rare and haunting dynamic. Newcomer Kaur is perfect as Ila, a beauty unmarked by her rigorous distaff; her soft features and exhausted expression lend a richness to the troubles she can’t share with her similarly stoic mother (Lillete Dubey). Everyone is sacrificing something and poverty seeps into every crack, every life, without exception — their inner lives are their richness. (1:44) Shattuck. (Vizcarrondo)
Maleficent Fairytale revisionism is all the rage these days, what with the unending power of Disney princesses to latch into little girls everywhere and bring parental units (and their wallets) to their knees. Yet princesses almost seem beside the point in this villain’s-side-of-the-story tale — Maleficent (Angelina Jolie), the queen of the fairies in the magical moors, wronged by Stefan (Sharlto Copley), who saws off her wings in order to win a crown. Accompanied by her shape-shifting minion, crow Diaval (Sam Riley), Maleficent attends the christening of King Stefan’s first-born daughter, Aurora, hot on the heels of three clownish good fairies (Lesley Manville, Imelda Staunton, Juno Temple), and delivers a curse that will have this future Sleeping Beauty (Elle Fanning) prick her finger on a spindle and sink into a deathlike coma until her true love’s kiss. Will that critical smooch be delivered by Prince Bieber, er, Phillip (Brenton Thwaites)? Considering the potential for Disney’s trademark, heart-tugging enchantment to get magically tangled up in girl power, it’s tough to suck up the disappointment in the ooey-gooey, gummy-faced troll-doll aesthetics of the art direction and animation, as well as first-time director Robert Stromberg’s choppy, dashed-through storytelling. Part of the problem is that there’s almost zero threat here, despite its antihero’s devilish presence — is there ever any doubt that a healthy resolution will win out, even at the expense of blood ties? Best to find dangerous pleasures where one can — namely in the vivid Jolie, cheekbones honed to a razor edge, who spits biting remarks at her accursed charge, beneath Joan Crawford-esque eyebrows and horns crying out for club-kid Halloween treatments. (1:37) Metreon, 1000 Van Ness, Presidio, Shattuck, Sundance Kabuki. (Chun)
Million Dollar Arm Jon Hamm has it bad — that dark-around-the-edges Mad Men afterglow can’t help but follow him everywhere, even into the arms of Disney in this solid Cinderella-story baseball tale (possibly the best headlining gig he’s had outside SCDP). Hamm’s J.B. Bernstein would certainly have something to hash over with Don Draper: both are down-on-their-luck charmers with the cracks in their facades clearly showing, yet nonetheless intent on doing it their way. J.B. is striking out when it comes to recruiting talent for his new, rapidly sinking sports agency, when he comes up with a genius idea while he and fellow agent Aash (Aasif Mandvi) are watching random sports at the latter’s home: Why not tap into one of the world’s greatest unexploited baseball markets by staging a talent search for an Indian cricket player with Major League pitching potential? Canvassing the country with the help of sleepy scout Ray (Alan Arkin) and baseball-enthusiast translator Amit (Pitobash), J.B. finds his arms ultimately attached to village truck driver Dinesh (Madhur Mittal) and contorting track-and-field thrower Rinku (Suraj Sharma of 2012’s Life of Pi). But how to turn raw talent into professional careers in just months? And moreover, how can the would-be golden boys overcome cultural barriers that a fly ball couldn’t surmount? It’s a tryout for all concerned — including an MLB that’s still striving to expand its reach in Asia, and Hamm, who can be so good as Draper that he’s in increasing danger of being typecast. In the Disney mold, at least, his character achieves fairly happy results. (2:00) Metreon, 1000 Van Ness, Shattuck. (Chun)
A Million Ways to Die in the West One can’t help but feel … mixed about Seth MacFarlane. The funnyman will go there. Few can deny that. But whether he should be starring as a leading man in his own passion projects — even Quentin Tarantino has the sense not to do that — is still in question, even in light of the oft-hilarious A Million Ways to Die in the West. On screen, MacFarlane looks a wee bit too waxily vanilla — like he’s had too much work done or he’s the every-guy counterpart to Johnny Depp’s CGI-swathed Willy Wonka. The director and co-writer’s choice to put himself in front of the camera, rather than an animated or claymated Seth or Ted, is one of few trip-ups in this otherwise generally good-natured and merrily violent outing, lightly reminiscent of Blazing Saddles (1974) in its happy embrace of bad taste, bloody pratfalls, politically incorrect jabs, and scatological yuks, and its mission to mildly demythologize the glory days of the Wild West. MacFarlane’s whiney, geeky sheep herder Albert is a fish out of water in the dicey frontier: It’s too hot, it’s too dangerous, decent hygiene is unavailable, and gunfights are way too frequent, as he grouses to girlfriend Louise (Amanda Seyfried), best friend Edward (Giovanni Ribisi), and hooker buddy Ruth (Sarah Silverman). Still, he doesn’t know how good he has it when mustachioed nemesis Foy (Neil Patrick Harris) sweeps Louise off her feet and a feisty, gun-slinging gal (Charlize Theron) comes to town. MacFarlane’s gross-out jokes will win over the boys, his sentimental heart will get the girls — he just won’t entirely enthrall this reviewer until he comes up with a more original way of disclaiming/explicating his movie’s racial jokes than with the now-obligatory “don’t be racist” call-out at the start. (1:56) 1000 Van Ness, SF Center, Sundance Kabuki. (Chun)
Neighbors It’s a mystery why Neighbor‘s marketing teams are intent on creating some kind of social media battle between this comedy’s family and frat: The college boys are clearly outclassed when it comes to uninhibited physical comedy daring, thanks to Seth Rogen and Rose Byrne. They play young parents Kelly and Mac, who are still basking in their new craftsman home and settled state, trying to figure out sex in front — or is it behind? — baby, and how to get to the rave before bedtime, when a frat, led by oft-shirtless hottie Teddy (Zac Efron) and pal Pete (Dave Franco), moves into the house next door. How do you ask them to “keep it down” yet still be cool? The pretzels Mac and Kelly wrap themselves into, in order to still hang with the kids, are about as hilarious as the inevitable battles that break out over the hearts and minds of college administrators (Lisa Kudrow), pals (the hilarious Ike Barinholtz), and wannabe brothers like the loyal Assjuice (Craig Roberts). Still, despite some memorable gags, Neighbors feels like a bit of a squandered opportunity as one fidgets through many of the frat house scenes. Part of the problem is, why would Kelly, Mac, or anyone want to be in good with such an uninteresting group of Greeks? (1:37) Metreon, 1000 Van Ness, Shattuck, Sundance Kabuki. (Chun)
Night Moves Not to be confused with Arthur Penn’s same-named 1975 Gene Hackman thriller, Kelly Reichardt’s latest film nonetheless is also a memorably quiet, unsettling tale of conspiracy and paranoia. It takes us some time to understand what makes temporary allies of jittery Josh (Jesse Eisenberg), Portland, Ore.-style alterna-chick Dena (Dakota Fanning) and genial rural recluse Harmon (Peter Sarsgaard), beyond it being a mission of considerable danger and secrecy. When things don’t go exactly as planned, however, the three react very differently to the resulting fallout, becoming possibly greater threats to one another than the police or FBI personnel pursuing them. While still spare by mainstream standard, this is easily Reichardt’s most accessible work, carrying the observational strengths of 2010’s Meek’s Cutoff, 2008’s Wendy and Lucy, and 2006’s Old Joy over to a genuinely tense story that actually goes somewhere. (1:52) Metreon. (Harvey)
The Other Woman Cameron Diaz gets top billing — and the title role — in The Other Woman, but Leslie Mann is the real stealth weapon here: the other comedian who bravely dares to go into unseemly crazy-bitch, scatological-Bridesmaids territory, with shrill histrionics, whining, and shrieks hitting registers that threaten to make most men’s heads explode. Coming on like Lucille Ball on crystal, Mann teeters out in the limb in kitten heels — and your enjoyment of The Other Woman depends on whether you love that balancing act or loathe it. Diaz and Mann’s reluctant-then-mutual girl crush is at the heart of this proudly chick flick directed by Nick Cassavetes, who tends to beat his own indie path apart from his involvement in one of the biggest lady draws of all time, The Notebook (2004). The chick magnet and cause for so much chaos is Mark (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau), a sketchy entrepreneur who skims wife Kate’s (Mann) business ideas and toys with power-bitch lawyer Carly (Diaz), as well as his other other woman, perfect-10 Amber (Kate Upton). Coster-Waldau throws himself into the hysteria, as if it were the sole lifeline out of dour King’s Landing, but this is the Mann and Diaz Show, with a smarter-than-average screenplay by Melissa Stack and revenge served up like a self-righteous side dish at a Real Housewives buffet line. And just to show you how far we haven’t come, like those benighted housewives, those assembled aren’t so feminist that they won’t stoop to deliver a bitchy joke at the expense of Upton’s character. (1:49) Metreon. (Chun)
Palo Alto Adapted from the 2010 short story collection by James Franco, first-time director Gia Coppola’s depressive, aimless tale of disaffected youth tracks the ennuis and misadventures of a handful of Palo Alto teenagers: shy, inexperienced April (Emma Roberts), teetering on the edge of an affair with her soccer coach (Franco); naively promiscuous Emily (Zoe Levin); budding head case Fred (Nat Wolff); and his friend Teddy (Jack Kilmer, son of Val, who plays April’s out-to-lunch stepfather), who ambivalently participates in Fred’s mayhem while pining after April. Adult supervision is nearly Peanuts-level sparse — in other Peninsula households, helicopter parents may be fine-tuning the lives of their children down to the last extracurricular; here, the stoned, distracted elders who occasionally wander in front of the camera are more like flaky, absentee roommates. Meanwhile, their young charges fill the empty hours with copious amounts of alcohol consumption, random property destruction, and a round or two of social crucifixion. The protagonists and their cohorts form a fairly distasteful tableau of privileged, floundering adolescence, eliciting an emotional response in which uneasy concern occasionally overcomes bemused disgust. But the individual stories are virtually weightless, and the characters’ lack of investment in anything, even their own problems, makes it difficult to care too much about their fates. (1:38) Opera Plaza. (Rapoport)
Rigor Mortis Spooky Chinese folklore (hopping vampires) meets J-horror (female ghouls with long black hair) in this film — directed by Juno Mak, and produced by Grudge series helmer Takashi Shimizu — inspired by Hong Kong’s long-running Mr. Vampire comedy-horror movie series. Homage takes the form of casting, with several of Vampire‘s key players in attendance, rather than tone, since the supernatural goings-on in Rigor Mortis are more somber than slapstick. Washed-up film star Chin Siu-ho (playing an exaggerated version of himself) moves into a gloomy apartment building stuffed with both living and undead tenants; his own living room was the scene of a horrific crime, and anguished spirits still linger. Neighbors include a frustrated former vampire hunter; a traumatized woman and her white-haired imp of a son; a kindly seamstress who goes full-tilt ruthless in her quest to bring her deceased husband back to life; and an ailing shaman whose spell-casting causes more harm than good. Shot in tones so monochromatic the film sometimes appears black-and-white (with splashes of blood red, natch), Rigor Mortis unfortunately favors CG theatrics over genuine scares. That said, its deadpan, world-weary tone can be amusing, as when one old ghost-chaser exclaims to another, “You’re still messing around with that black magic shit?” (1:45) Metreon. (Eddy)
We Are the Best! Fifteen years after Show Me Love, Lukas Moodysson’s sweet tale of two girls in love in small-town Sweden, the writer-director returns to the subject of adorably poignant teen angst. Set in Stockholm in 1982, and adapted from a graphic novel by Moodysson’s wife, Coco Moodysson, We Are the Best! focuses on an even younger cohort: a trio of 13-year-old girls who form a punk band in the interest of fighting the power and irritating the crap out of their enemies. Best friends Bobo (Mira Barkhammar) and Klara (Mira Grosin) spend their time enduring the agonies of parental embarrassment and battling with schoolmates over personal aesthetics (blond and perky versus chopped and spiked), nukes, and whether punk’s dead or not. Wreaking vengeance on a group of churlish older boys by snaking their time slot in the local rec center’s practice space, they find themselves equipped with a wealth of fan enthusiasm, but no instruments of their own and scant functional knowledge of the ones available at the rec center. Undaunted, they recruit a reserved Christian classmate named Hedvig (Liv LeMoyne), whose objectionable belief system — which they vow to subvert for her own good — is offset by her prodigious musical talents. Anyone who was tormented by the indignities of high school PE class will appreciate the subject matter of the group’s first number (“Hate the Sport”). And while the film has a slightness to it and an unfinished quality, Moodysson’s heartfelt interest in the three girls’ triumphs and trials as both a band and a posse of friends suffuses the story with warmth and humor. (1:42) Shattuck, Smith Rafael. (Rapoport)
Words and Pictures Words and Pictures is about as bifurcated as its title, while spinning off a central beef that Hepburn and Tracey might have wrapped their madcap bickering ways around at one time. Which is more powerful: language or images, poetry or painting? The age-old debate starts to feel a little creaky by Words’ close, but you can see and hear why the conceit drew such acting thoroughbreds as Juliette Binoche and Clive Owen, playing two passionate, paint-hurling, bottle-foisting artistic types on either side of a divide overseen by Australian director Fred Schepisi (1987’s Roxanne). Owen’s Jack Marcus is an alcoholic, onetime lit-star of an English teacher whose creatively constipated bad boy routine is starting to wear thin when Binoche’s painter Dina Delsanto arrives at his prep school on the pretext of teaching an honors art class. In actuality, she’s taking time away from the NY art scene to figure out a new way to paint while grappling with rheumatoid arthritis. Sparks fly between the two hard-headed combatants, along with punches delivered by some smartly scripted sparring, as they get the students hot and bothered by their debate concerning words vs. pictures. The master-class lessons learned by watching Binoche work, jaw firmly set and intelligent eyes darting as she maps out her next composition, while Owen falls apart, Hemingway-style, are offset by a facile, cozy ending that feels test-audience driven. (1:51) Opera Plaza, Shattuck. (Chun)
X-Men: Days of Future Past Bryan Singer, director of the first two X-Men films (2000’s decent X-Men; 2002’s meh X2) returns to helm this latest franchise entry — the fourth sequel in a series that also includes two movies focusing on Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine. That fan-favorite character is front and center in both of Days of Future Past‘s time frames: the present, a bleak dystopia in which robot assassins have wiped out nearly every mutant (save Wolverine, Patrick Stewart’s Professor X, Ian McKellan’s Magneto, and a few others), and most humans along with them; and the past, a key moment in the polyester-laden 1970s in which mutant avenger Mystique (Jennifer Lawrence) inadvertently sets the disastrous future events in motion by killing robot designer Trask (Peter Dinklage). Wolverine time-travels to convince younger versions of the Professor (James McAvoy) and Magneto (Michael Fassbender) to put aside their Himalayan-sized differences to stop her. (Speaking of avengers, there’s a capital-A one here: Quicksilver, a character from both comic-book worlds; he’s portrayed here with giddy mischief by American Horror Story‘s Evan Peters, and is the film’s high point.) Yes, that’s a heady plot, and there are a zillion other characters, but Future Past manages, for the most part, to avoid feeling like an overloaded mess. It’s most entertaining in scenes that show off its characters’ superpowers — clearly, the CG artists had a blast working on this one — which are plentiful enough to make slogging through the ennui-laden moments of downtime worth it.(2:10) 1000 Van Ness, SF Center, Sundance Kabuki. (Eddy) *
The Selector June 11-17, 2014
WEDNESDAY 11
Luke Sweeney
“Miss Me?” Luke Sweeney asks in the lead track from his forthcoming album Adventure:Us, and in response I’d probably deny, avoid eye contact, but then demurely say, “Um…maybe a li’l bit.” Truth be told I’ve been quite won over by the album, maybe because of the apparent shared affectation for Mark Bolan’s swinging shuffle, George Harrison’s weepsy guitar, Jeff Tweedy’s pop twang, and a little bit of Question Mark and the Mysterians mysterious…something or other. Now Sweeney is returning to SF from a California tour with a homecoming show at Monarch (of all places.) Luke, please don’t leave us like that again. (Ryan Prendiville)
With Farallons, Tidelands
9pm, $5 – $8
Monarch
101 6th St, SF
(415) 284-9774
Guided By Voices
Guided By Voices’ Robert Pollard is one of the most insanely prolific songwriters in rock history. Since its inception in 1983 in Dayton, Ohio, Guided By Voices has released 22 studio albums, 17 EPs, and 39 singles. Each of these records contains around 20 songs, most hovering around the one-minute mark. Within these little vignettes of genius (read: insanity) Pollard explores surrealist narratives, charmingly compact and catchy melodies, and genuine emotional impact. 30 years into their career, GBV play hard, drink hard, and make much younger rockers look washed-up and tame. The band also rarely tours, so don’t miss tonight’s show. There’s no knowing what they’ll play, but it’s going to be a night to remember. (Haley Zaremba)
With Bobby Bare, Jr.
8pm, $38
Regency Ballroom
1300 Van Ness, SF
THURSDAY 12
San Francisco Black Film Festival
At a time when cultural landmarks like Marcus Books are being evicted from the historic Fillmore district, this festival, which celebrates African-American contributions to cinema, might strike a more poignant tone than ever before. Now in its 16th year, the three-day fest aims to present films that “reinforce positive images and dispel negative stereotypes” and connect Black filmmakers from around the Bay Area and beyond. This opening evening features the Life of King, starring Cuba Gooding Jr. as Eugene Brown, who turned his life around after 18 years in prison, funneling his passion for chess into a way to help inner-city youth in Washington, D.C. (Emma Silvers)
Through Sun/15
Prices and showtimes vary, see website for details
Jazz Heritage Center
1320 Fillmore, SF
FRIDAY 13
Alice Glass
Alice Glass is one of the most dynamic frontpeople in the music industry. Half of Toronto’s infamous electro-duo Crystal Castles, Glass’ clear, piercing voice and fiercely frenetic stage presence make her a stunning vocalist and onstage force of nature. Hard-partying and un-compromising, Glass is a born performer, commanding arenas and collecting a following of cult-like fans with ease. Since she ran away at 14 to join a punk squat, fronting an all-girl crust-punk band called Fetus Fatale, Glass has been making a name for herself as a skilled musician and magnetic personality. Combining punk and hardcore aesthetics with harshly catchy electronics, Glass’ music is a unique concoction that will make you dance your ass off. (Zaremba)
With Sad Andy, 28 Mansions, We Are Isis (side room)
10pm, $17.50
1015 Folsom, SF
(415) 431-1200
Hayes Carll & Bob Schneider
“The World’s Greatest Living Songwriters of All Time” is a pretty cocky name for a tour, but this team delivers. Both singer-songwriters from the state of Texas, Carll and Schneider are performing together for the first time in their careers. Carll, from just outside of Houston, has been lauded as a modern songwriting heavyweight among the likes of Townes Van Zandt, Guy Clark, and Ray Wylie Hubbard. Carl’s songs sound timeless, although his content speaks to a modern world. Bob Schneider has been making music in Austin for decades with various bands: Joe Rockhead, the Scabs, Ugly Americans. Schneider’s output reaches across pop, rock, folk, and country, while his uncensored songwriting has some labeling his music “adult alternative.” This is a show songwriters can’t miss.
8pm, $21
859 O’Farrell, SF
(415) 885-0750
#MyGreatCat Pop-Up Photo Gallery
You’d be lying if you said you’ve never been victim of the Internet black hole dedicated to cats. There’s no denying that the world wide web is the best thing to have happened to our pets. Take a look at the @Cats_of_Instagram account and you’ll find 1.4 million people who are just like you! From the silly to the cuddly to the serious, these fuzzy fellows have a wide range of adorable emotions, which is why @Cats_of_Instagram are hosting a pop-up photo gallery in the middle of Union Square for your viewing pleasure. “What’s so great about a cat” is the theme of the exhibition. Last month, Instagram users were encouraged to post photos and the hashtag #MyGreatCat for a chance to be part of the exhibit. Photos by teenage pet photographer Jessica Trinh will also be on display and the founders of @Cats_of_Instagram will be at the event too. Cat lovers unite for a heart-warming night that (you’ve been warned) may leave you melted into a pile of goo. (Laura B. Childs)
11am-7pm, free
Union Square, SF
SATURDAY 14
Queer Women of Color Film Festival
Now in its tenth year, the Queer Women of Color Film Festival kicks off Pride Month with 32 short films, all of which are captioned for the benefit of deaf and hearing-impaired audience members — a presentation choice that reflects the festival’s quest to empower (and entertain) its diverse community. Standout programs include the doc-heavy “Seeds of Resistance,” spotlighting themes of cultivation and community organizing; “Girl Power!,” with films celebrating the younger generation; and a panel discussion with queer cinema pioneers Cheryl Dunye and Madeleine Lim on “the art and transformative power of film.” (Cheryl Eddy)
Starts Fri/13, through Sun/15, free ($5-$10 suggested donation)
Brava Theater Center
2789 24th St, SF
Phuture
Commercially, the Roland TB-303 was discontinued in ’84. Should have been obsolete, but when a trio from Chicago got their hands on the bass synthesizer the next year, they discovered something else: the sound of the future. On Phuture’s seminal “Acid Tracks” the overdriven sound that gave birth to acid house is unmistakable. Perhaps feeling the impact of their legacy on music more than ever, original members DJ Pierre and Spanky (along with Lothario “Rio” Lee) are prepping a new album and performing together again, on a tour that brings them from a recent gig at the Sydney Opera House to Sunset’s annual picturesque bayside “electronic music picnic.” (Ryan Prendiville)
With Kyle Hall, Beautiful Swimmers, Awesome Tapes from Africa, J-Boogie, Galen, Solar, J-Bird
Noon-9:30pm, $20 – $30
Great Lawn, Treasure Island
SUNDAY 15
Buzz Osborne
Having earned a well-deserved reputation as one of the heaviest purveyors of down-tuned, sludgy rock as the leader of The Melvins, Buzz Osborne likely turned some heads when he announced he was putting out an acoustic album. That release, This Machine Kills Artists (Ipecac Recordings), which hit stores earlier this month, isn’t as much of a departure as one might think, however — songs like “Dark Brown Teeth” aren’t fluffy folk, they’re still vintage Osborne. When Nirvana thanked him at their Rock N Roll Hall of Fame induction, it was for good reason; he helped shape the sound that defined hard rock in the early ’90s, and he continues to do so today. (Sean McCourt)
8pm, $15
Great American Music Hall
859 O’Farrell, SF
(415) 885-0750
MONDAY 16
Tupac Birthday Celebration
Tupac Shakur lives on — in holograms, in our hearts, and tonight, at the Elbo Room. In honor of what would have been the late rapper’s 43rd birthday, the club is hosting a birthday party featuring the music of Tupac and other special guests, hosted by Bay Area rapper/activist/event producer Sellassie. Enjoy the moving and eloquent music Shakur left behind and celebrate the impact he still has on hip-hop and culture today. (Childs)
9pm, $5
Elbo Room
647 Valencia, SF
(415) 552-7788
TUESDAY 17
Yann Tiersen
Yann Tiersen wants you to know that he is more than just composer of film soundtracks. Perhaps best known for his musical score for the french film Amélie, the Breton musician’s passion lies in touring and recording studio albums. His music just happens to fit seamlessly into films. Though renowned in France for his studio albums, Tiersen remains mostly known as the guy who created the magical accordion and piano driven tunes that fuel Amélie’s imaginative adventures. However, tonight at the Regency Ballroom, Tiersen will play from his own albums, his most recent, “Ï” (aka Infinity) in particular. Those expecting a classical performance will be sorely disappointed. Heavily influenced by punk music, Tiersen’s minimalist tracks range from noisy to melancholic with his five-piece band. The musical influence of each of his nine album varies greatly, but his musical style simple and recognizable. With each album, he shows a new facet to his talent, proving that he is so much more than an orchestral composer. (Childs)
8pm, $25
Regency Ballroom
1290 Sutter, SF
(415) 673-5716
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Rep Clock June 11-17, 2014
Schedules are for Wed/11-Tue/17 except where noted. Director and year are given when available. Double and triple features marked with a •. All times pm unless otherwise specified.
ARTISTS’ TELEVISION ACCESS 992 Valencia, SF; www.atasite.org. $10-12. “Cine Mas:” Delusions of Grandeur (Almaraz and Ramos), Thu, 7:30.
BERKELEY FELLOWSHIP OF UNITARIAN UNIVERSALISTS 1924 Cedar, Berk; www.bfuu.org. $5-10. State of Siege (Costa-Gavras, 1972), Thu, 7.
BRAVA THEATER 2789 24th St, SF; www.qwocmap.org. Free ($5-10 suggested donation). Queer Women of Color Film Festival, four programs of short films (all screening with captions) under the theme “Re-Generation,” Fri-Sun.
CASTRO 429 Castro, SF; (415) 621-6120, www.castrotheatre.com. $8.50-11. The Wind Rises (Miyazaki, 2013), Wed, 7 (subtitled), 9:30 (dubbed). •Joe (Green, 2013), Thu, 7, and Red Rock West (Dahl, 1993), Thu, 9:15. “Midnites for Maniacs: Bloody Fangs Double Bill:” •Interview with the Vampire (Jordan, 1994), Fri, 7:20, and Vampire’s Kiss (Bierman, 1988), Fri, 9:45. This double bill, $12. Frozen (Buck and Lee, 2013), Sat-Sun, 1. Presented sing-along style; advance tickets ($10-16) at www.ticketweb.com. •Lost in America (Brooks, 1985), Sat, 7:15, and Something Wild (Demme, 1986), Sat, 5, 9. Othello (Welles, 1952), Sun, 5, 7, 9. •Under the Skin (Glazer, 2013), Tue, 7, and Trouble Every Day (Denis, 2001), Tue, 9:05.
CHRISTOPHER B. SMITH RAFAEL FILM CENTER 1118 Fourth St, San Rafael; (415) 454-1222, www.cafilm.org. $6.50-$10.75. We Are the Best! (Moodysson, 2013), Wed-Thu, call for times.
CLAY 2261 Fillmore, SF; www.landmarktheatres.com. $10. “Midnight Movies:” The Room (Wiseau, 2003), Sat, midnight.
COURTHOUSE SQUARE 2200 Broadway, Redwood City; www.redwoodcity.org. Free. Lee Daniels’ The Butler (Daniels, 2013), Thu, 8:45.
JACK LONDON FERRY LAWN Clay and Water, Oakl; www.jacklondonsquare.com. Free. “Waterfront Flicks:” Gravity (Cuaron, 2013), Thu, sundown.
PACIFIC FILM ARCHIVE 2575 Bancroft, Berk; (510) 642-5249, bampfa.berkeley.edu. $5.50-9.50. “A Theater Near You:” L’avventura (Antonioni, 1960), Fri, 7:30. “Martin Scorsese Presents Masterpieces of Polish Cinema:” Saragossa Manuscript (Has, 1964), Sat, 7; Ashes and Diamonds (Wajda, 1958), Sun, 6:30.
ROXIE 3117 and 3125 16th St, SF; (415) 863-1087, www.roxie.com. $6.50-11. San Francisco Documentary Film Festival, through June 19. Complete program details, including additional venues, and tickets (most shows $12) at www.sfindie.com.
“SAN FRANCISCO BLACK FILM FESTIVAL” Yoshi’s, 1330 Fillmore, SF; and Buriel Clay Theater, 762 Fulton, SF; www.sfbff.org. Check website for individual ticket prices; festival pass, $50. A celebration of African American cinema and the African cultural Diaspora, with a focus on both local and global filmmakers, Thu-Sat.
YERBA BUENA CENTER FOR THE ARTS 701 Mission, SF; www.ybca.org. $8-10. “New Filipino Cinema 2014:” How to Disappear Completely (Martin, 2013), Wed, 7:30 (reception, 6:30); Jungle Love (Sanchez, 2012), Thu, 4; Debosyon (Yapan, 2013), Thu, 6; Sana Dati (Tarog, 2013), Thu, 8; Iskalawags (Deligero, 2013), Fri, 2: Woman of the Ruins (Sicat, 2013), Fri, 2; The Bit Player (Jaturian, 2013), Fri, 7; Metro Manila (Ellis, 2013), Fri, 9:15; Oro, Plata, Mata: The Restored Version (Gallaga, 1982/2012), Sat, noon; “Basket Case: Short Films Over the Edge,” Sat, 4; Transit (Espia, 2013), Sat, 7; Anita’s Last Cha-Cha (Bernardo, 2013), Sat, 9:15; No End in Sight (Tabay, 2012), Sun, noon; Pascalina (Miras, 2012), Sun, 2; Rigodon (Matti, 2012), Sun, 4:30; Thy Womb (Mendoza, 2012), Sun, 7 (reception, 6). *
Party Radar: Daybreaker gets you moving – on a Tuesday morning
Back in 1988, I hung out for a summer in West Berlin. Yep, this was before the wall fell, when West Berlin was a roiling, hyperactive, neon-crazy island in a sea of Communist repression — kind of like the most exclusive nightclub in the world.
One of the things that took my breath away: high school kids and college students went to clubs before school. At least the few I knew would met their friends around 5-6am at the all-night club du jour and dance it out for a while before heading to class. “This is the best place in the world!” I thought at the time.
Also: “Why can’t we have this?” Well, now we kinda do. Welcome to San Francisco, Daybreaker.
OK, OK, it has no alcohol, and you still have to be 21 to get in. (And it’s $15-$20, so you may have to save up that pocket change.)
HOWEVER, this 8am-10am Tue/10 morning dance party at the beautiful Audio Discotech — hello, morning skylight! — looks incredibly promising for what organizers Radha, Brimer, Steph, and Mustafa call “a little mischief.” You get music from cutie pie DJ Bradley P. Plus it sounds like a damn fun morning workout! So much better than a gym.
See you there, bright and bleary. Press release:
Over a late-night falafel in Williamsburg a few months back, we mused over an idea. An idea about dancing before the day broke with people we love. About cultivating a community that values camaraderie, self-expression, wellness, immediacy… and mischief. About going to work with our brows slightly dewed from moving our bodies with reckless abandon, sans alcohol but with so much spirit, surrounded by the most amazing people we know.
DAYBREAKER is a morning dance party and community of good-hearted people, and on Tues, June 10th, DAYBREAKER SF will commence.
No more dreary treadmills. No more lackluster mornings. No more dancing only when the sun is down.
With your ticket, you get:
+ good beats by DJ Bradley P
+ fresh Philz coffee
+ delicious smoothies
+ live musicians & performers
+ occasional costumes
+ (no booze)
Be a part of something new and different. Daybreaker will set the tone for your day unlike anything has before 🙂
// Tuesday, June 10th @ Audio — 316 11th St. (btw Folsom and Harrison)
// Dance Party: 8 am – 10 am
Get some: ‘This Is What I Want’ fest continues through June 21
This Is What I Want — the Bay Area’s fifth annual performance festival devoted to performing and investigating desire — seems to want it all this year, with no less than three weeks of far-flung programming. It all started last Sunday with TIWIW’s first-ever film festival, Left Eye/Right Eye, an evening of short subjects curated by San Francisco and Kansas artist Peter Max Lawrence. It continues this weekend with a performance installation and party at the Dollhouse (CounterPULSE’s new space at 80 Turk) for female-identified audience members (a category TIWIW organizers say they’re prepared to interpret liberally), followed by performances through the weekend for the all and sundry.
The impressive Dollhouse lineup of artists includes Mara Poliak and Maryanna Lachman (of the SALTA collective), Elizabeth Cooper, Minna Harri, Ronja Ver, Pearl Marill, Kat Yoas, Montreal’s VK Preston, and SF-based arts collective the Lost Season.
There are also workshops, symposia, and fringe events throughout the festival — including (for anyone in Bristol, England, this month) My Favorite Auntie by Bristol-based performance artist Tom Marshman. A bit closer to home is a community discussion and video-share investigating the relation between feminism and dance, hosted by Oakland’s SALTA collective at the Underground Yoga Parlour for Self Knowledge & Social Justice.
Find information on all TIWIW events here!
TREAT SHEET 2014 (all on one page!)
TREAT SHEET It’s almost summer time: Forget about that diet — you’ve got bigger things to worry about than whether you can fit into that bathing suit! (How to score Outside Lands tickets, for instance, or how to get to three street fairs at once.) For our first annual Treat Sheet, we asked our readers, our staff writers, and Tablehopper restaurant guru Marcia Gagliardi for their favorite summer treats under $10 that represent the Bay Area’s delicious, locally sourced, mostly organic bounty. Grab your picnic basket and dig in.
PORK BELLY DONUTS WITH MAPLE SYRUP AND MAKERS MARK GLAZE, $5.75
Yes, these things are just as rich and decadent as they sound. (Just one order of three is probably all you and your date will need.) When pigs meet donuts, it’s serious business
The Sycamore, 2140 Mission, SF, www.thesycamoresf.com
SLOPPY BUN, $6.95
A flavor-packed and abundant sandwich of red curry ground beef, plus garlic mayo, jalapeno, Thai basil, and shaved onion. Be sure to pay an extra $1 for an egg on top. More is more.
Bun Mee, 2015 Fillmore, SF; 650 Market, SF; www.bunmee.co
LEMON COOKIE ICE CREAM, $4.25 FOR TWO SCOOPS ON A WAFFLE CONE
Get your cookies and ice cream fix in this light, lemony two-in-one dessert.
Three Twins, 254 Fillmore, SF. www.threetwinsicecream.com
NABOLOM CINNAMON TWIST, $2
It’s been years since we’ve lived down the street and could hit them up practically every day, but these cinnamon-sugar-doused bars of gold (er, perfectly crispy-flaky-chewy croissant dough) still appear in our dreams. Get ’em fresh out of the oven if possible; the crispy caramelized sugar edges will become your new white rabbit.
Nabolom Collective Bakery, 2708 Russell St, Berk. www.nabolombakery.com
BLUES ON THE COB, $4
Baby Blues BBQ in the Mission has a great assortment of barbecued meats, and we try to mix it up — but we never deviate from one of our favorite sides: fresh roasted corn on the cob smothered in blue cheese. Yum.
Baby Blues BBQ, 3149 Mission, SF, babybluessf.com
EL FRIJOLAZO HOT DOG, $6.95
Guatemalan hot dogs, people. And believe us, you’ve never had a bacon-wrapped dog like this. The fresh-baked and toasted bun comes slathered with refried black beans, avocado, a Latin spin on mayo, and queso fresco. Finish with a squirt of the green salsa chapina on top.
Los Shucos, 3224 22nd St, SF. www.losshucos.com
MATEVEZA YERBA MATE IPA, $6
Need a buzzy kick? The folks at Cerveceria de Mateveza café near Dolores Park combined all the kick of caffeinated Argentinean necessity yerba mate with the downhome goodness of locally brewed craft beer. Olé.
Cerveceria de Mateveza, 3801 18th St., SF. www.cerveceriasf.com
PRETZEL CROISSANT, $3.50
Yeah, it’s just like it sounds: amazing. A dark-baked croissant topped with pretzel salt, ready to melt you. Fresh out of the oven every day at 11:30am.
Arlequin, 384 Hayes, SF. www.arlequincafe.com
BUFFALO BOYS, $8.50
Fried catfish in buffalo sauce, dipped in blue cheese dressing. ‘Nuff said. You could also save a buck and get the Buffalo Girls, made with seitan instead of catfish. (But why?)
Dante’s Weird Fish, 2193 Mission, SF. www.weirdfishsf.com
THOROUGH BREAD APPLE GALETTE, $2.15
Ooh la la: authentic French bakery Thorough Bread near the Castro overflows with goodies worth rising early for. But we’re saving our biggest oui oui for these delightful apple-filled pastries. Not too sweet, but your sweet tooth will thank you.
248 Church, SF. www.thoroughbreadandpastry.com
ROOSEVELT CAESAR SALAD, $10
This is one hell of a Caesar, the crisp leaves of Romaine are positively coated with the oh-so-creamy dressing, all topped with a mountainous flurry of Parmesan.
Roosevelt Tamale Parlor, 2817 24th St, SF. (415) 824-2600
ESPERPENTO GAMBAS AL AJILLO, $7
This may be the single garlickiest dish we’ve found in the city, which therefore makes it awesome. Just one order of these babies — tender shrimp drowns in garlic sauce — and a couple baskets of bread to sop up every last drop of juice. You can run on the fumes for hours.
Esperpento, 3295 22nd St., SF, www.esperpentorestaurant.com
THE REBEL WITHIN, $7.50
This stealthy treat consists of a poached egg, bacon, and scallions baked into an otherwise normal-looking savory muffin. And they even seem to get the yolk right each time, running out perfectly as you cut into it.
Craftsman and Wolves, 749 Valencia, SF, craftsman-wolves.com
STARBELLY HOUSEMADE CHICKEN LIVER PATE, $10
This ain’t your grandma’s chicken liver — this is pure buttery goodness. Spread it on toasted bread with sweet onion marmalade and grain mustard, and it’ll warm your soul.
Starbelly, 3583 16th St, SF. www.starbellysf.com
PLANTAIN BURRITO, $7.25
If you’re a carnivore, this burrito will make you consider a conversion to vegetarianism. If you’re a vegetarian, you’re welcome.
Cuco’s, 488 Haight, SF (415) 863-4906
HASH BROWN SANDWICH, $6.55
A genius breakfast item from the Inner Richmond: imagine a folded taco of crisp hash browns, with cheese, bacon (or sausage, or ham and onions) inside, and eggs and toast on the side. Boom.
Art’s Café, 747 Irving, SF. www.artscafe.com
KINAKO MOCHI, $1.35
You might not be able to eat just one, and you might want to try an assortment of mochi treats — but start with this fresh green mochi with red bean filling from a true Japantown classic.
Benkyodo Co., 1747 Buchanan, SF. www.benkyodocompany.com
FENNEL AND SUN-DRIED TOMATO LAMB SAUSAGE, $7
It’s like a ballpark hot dog all dressed up with a gourmet twist. Comes with two free toppings, like sauerkraut, grilled onions, or sweet peppers. It is so perfect with beer!
Rosamunde Sausage Grill, various locations, SF.
TAYLOR’S TONICS’ CHAI COLA, $2
All the healthful goodness of chai — in cola form. The local heroes at Taylor’s Tonics have seen this unlikely but wondrous taste combo take off nationally. (You can get it at CostCo!) But the best place to procure this invigoratingly fizzy beverage is at one of Taylor’s Fizzary soda stores.
The Fizzary, 2949 Mission, SF; 1782 Haight, SF. www.taylorstonics.com
LENTIL AND YAM PIE, $3.55
Wholesome, fresh, and flavorful, try the vegan lentil and yam pocket pie, seasoned with cumin and onion. It’s simply good and healthy for your wallet, too.
Peasant Pies, multiple locations. www.peasantpies.com.
GREEN CHILE STEW $5; HOUSE SPECIALTY PIE, $8
Cross over to the savory side of the menu at this oasis of organic goodness. Try the pork, chicken, or veggie versions of the signature green chile stew. The cross back over to sweetness — with a kick — and dive into a slice of Green Chile’s house specialty pie: apple a la mode with a generous drizzle of red chile honey. Good lord.
Chile Pies Sweet and Savory, 314 Church, SF. (415) 431-9411 www.greenchilekichen.com
HONEYDEW SHAKE WITH PEARL, $3.25
When confronted with the list of pearl shake options, you might be tempted to just go for it and ask for the durian shake with pearl or the guyabano shake with pearl. But if you want sweet heavenly goodness to counterbalance a bowl of fiery noodles, take it from us that ordering the honeydew shake with pearl is the wisest move of all.
Kevin’s Noodle House, various locations. www.kevinnoodlehouse.com
TAO YEUN BAKED BBQ PORK BUN, LESS THAN $1
They are baked, they are filled with BBQ pork, and they are buns. You can find them practically anywhere in the bay. But there is good reason why everyone raves about these glazed clouds of perfection on the Internet. Pick up some sesame balls while you’re at it, why don’t you?
Tao Yeun Pastry, 816 Franklin, Oakl. (510) 834-9200
TU LAN #17, $7.45
No matter what Twitter has done to “clean up” (sweep homeless folks out of) the neighborhood, the real protests will begin when something threatens Tu Lan, the mother of all cheap, delicious Vietnamese noodle purveyors. The #17 pork kebab with imperial roll and rice noodles — a blend of sweet and spicy fried goodness — has cured many a hangover, and tops our pork kebab list. Long may she reign.
Tu Lan, 8 Sixth St, SF. www.tulan-vn-restaurant.com
PANNA GELATO WITH EXTRA VIRGIN OLIVE OIL AND SEA SALT, $7
Don’t be fooled by the odd-sounding flavor clash — servers will tell you flat-out that this decadent combination of sweet, creamy gelato, and light, fruity olive oil, accented with rock salt, is the best thing on the menu. We’re gladly working our way through all the items to find out.
Beretta, 1199 Valencia, SF. www.berettasf.com
PUERTO ALEGRE CHILAQUILES, $6.85
These fried tortilla slices scrambled with eggs and sauteed with a tasty red or green sauce are a magic hangover cure. Wash down with a house margarita — or, hell, a pitcher — to do it all over again. (Only on the weekend breakfast menu.)
Puerto Alegre, 546 Valencia, SF (415) 255-8201
CHILLED TRIPE “TRIPPERIA STYLE,” $8.50
This tripe is truly something special — it’s tender and served chilled, with lemon, chile oil, and sea salt (you get to decide how much to put on of each ingredient). A favorite of those who especially dig tripe or feeling incredibly Italian.
Pizzeria Delfina, various locations. www.pizzeriadelfina.com
MACARON ICE CREAM SANDWICH, $5
The delicate flavor of French macarons … the creamy sumptuousness of ice cream … the ungodly gobbling noise as you wolf it all down! Available in red velvet, chocolate chocolate, or “vanilla birthday.”
Cako, various locations. www.cako.com
MARLA BAGEL WITH HERBED FARMER’S CHEESE, $5
There are bagels, and then there are these amazing bagels baked by Amy Brown. Some of the best in the city, don’t miss ’em.
Marla Bakery Kitchen Communal, 613 York, SF. www.marlabakery.com
BUCKWHEAT WAFFLE, $9
This savory waffle also comes with crème fraîche, cucumber, and trout roe on top. Elegant! Brilliant for brunch.
Lt. Waffle at Linea Caffe, 3417 18th St., SF. www.lineacaffe.com
TROU NORMAN COPPA, $7
Some of the silkiest coppa you’ve ever had will be found here. There are actually about 14 kinds of housemade salumi for you to choose from, all $7 and under.
Trou Normand, 140 New Montgomery, SF. www.trounormandsf.com
CAFÉ VAN KLEEF GREYHOUND, $7
Feel a cold coming on? Get your daily dose of vitamin C and your weekly allotment of vodka with a fresh-squeezed grapefruit greyhound — featuring a stiff pour and a whole quarter of a grapefruit as a wedge — at this beloved, old-school Oakland spot.
Cafe Van Kleef, 1621 Telegraph, Oak. www.cafevankleef.com
WISE SONS NOODLE KUGEL, $3.50
Totally not fair to put this contemporary version of a Jewish standby on this list — it is a figurative brick of delish, sweet noodles cooked into a heavy square topped with crumble and served in a puddle of berry sauce.
Wise Sons Deli, 3150 24th St, SF. www.wisesonsdeli.com
CHEDDAR CHEESE GRILLED SANDWICH, $9.75
This is one cheesy sandwich, filled with Shelburne Farms and Fiscalini cheddar with sage and apples on house-baked kale whole wheat bread. Just beyond.
Le Marais, 2066 Chestnut, SF. www.lemaraisbakery.com
LIGURIA BAKERY PIZZA FOCACCIA, $5
If you manage to get to North Beach’s justly-famed Liguria early — very early — enough, you’ll be rewarded with soft, spongy, fabulously oily tomato bomb focaccia, sprinkled with green onions on top.
Liguria Bakery, 1700 Stockton, SF. (415) 421-3786
BUFFALO WINGS, $10
Or you can have Angry Korean wings, or dry rub, or seven other kinds, 10 flappers for just $10. Yeah, and it’s quality chicken too: air-chilled Mary’s birds. Piping hot and finger lickin’ good.
Wing Wings, 422 Haight, SF. www.wingwingssf.com
BACON BACON BANH MI, $8
This killer banh mi comes stuffed with pork and bacon patties, pickled vegetables, jalapenos, cilantro, and sriracha mayo. Good stuff, served specially from the Bacon Bacon café or truck.
Bacon Bacon, 205 A Frederick, SF. www.baconbaconsf.com
THE AUTHENTIC BANH MI, $5
Just try to find a bigger banh mi at that price. Comes with roasted pork belly, roasted five-spice pork shoulder, housemade headcheese, and Vietnamese pork sausage, plus a slew of vegetables. Grab some napkins.
Mission Banh Mi in Duc Loi, 2200 Mission, SF. www.ducloi.com
FROZEN GREEK YOGURT, $4–$5
Move over fro-yo, this tangy number is going to steal the show. Baklava crumbles on top with syrup, are you kidding? Or how about olive oil and flaky sea salt? Greek sour cherry syrup? However you want it, here in Hayes Valley.
Souvla, 517 Hayes, SF. www.souvlasf.com
THRICE-COOKED FRIES, MANIMAL STYLE, $7
These fries are bonkers: They’re thick and hot, and come smothered in “doggie sauce” (housemade aioli with ketchup, sriracha, and chow chow relish), shredded cheddar cheese, charred scallion, and a sprinkling of piment d’Espelette for extra kick.
Trick Dog, 3010 20th St., SF. www.trickdogbar.com
BANANA CREAM TART, $7.25
Pretty much the benchmark for banana cream pie in town. Almost too good with that touch of dark chocolate and caramel. Almost.
Tartine Bakery, 600 Guerrero, SF. www.tartinebakery.com
TURTLE TOWER PHO GA, $8.25
One of the finest chicken noodle dishes in the city, this enormous bowl of pho will cure whatever ails you: hangover, cold, or just hunger. Perfect for fog-drenched afternoon.
Turtle Tower, various locations. www.turtletowersf.com
PORK BELLY BAO, $6.75
Imagine a tender baked bun, stuffed with pork belly, turmeric-pickled daikon, and green shiso. (Or you can get it in a steamed bun for $3.75.)
The Chairman Truck, www.thechaimantruck.com
LA TORTA GORDA TINGA TORTA, $9.25
This torta can last you the entire day and then some; this monster is stuffed with shredded chicken stewed in chipotle and onion, refried beans, avocado, queso fresco, onions, mayo, and jalapenos. A junior is $6.95, and plenty.
La Torta Gorda, 2833 24th St, SF. www.latortagorda.net
CRANKSHAFT SANDWICH, $10
An excellent tuna melt, this one comes with a decadent mayonnaise-based tuna salad made with albacore, plus house pickles, Shelburne cheddar, and arugula to lighten it up a little.
Machine, 1024 Market, SF. (415) 913-7370
DECONSTRUCTED SAMOSA, $7
This dish is a crazy mountain of garbanzos, a meat or tofu of your choice, pico de gallo, chutney, and crispy sev noodles on top, plus mini samosas on the side. Delicious confusion.
Curry Up Now, 659 Valenica, SF. www.curryupnow.com
WHITE SPINACH SLICE, $4
This unassuming pizza shop in the Mission makes one hell of a New York-style slice, and the white spinach slice (spinach, ricotta, mozzarella, Parmesan, garlic) is rich and tasty. Great crisp crust.
The Pizza Shop, 3104 24th St, SF. (415) 824-1840
BEEP’S PINEAPPLE SHAKE, $3.50
This creamy, citrusy, brainfreezing rush is a legend — people have been talking about it for generations. The rest of the Ingleside diner’s menu is your basic ’50s throwback drive-through diner fare (plus teriyaki bowls), but the shake goes down well with some salty fries.
Beep’s Burgers, 1051 Ocean Avenue, SF. (415) 584-2650
TONKOTSU KOTTERI RAMEN, $8.45
Some of the richest pork broth you’ll find, this bowl of ramen also comes with black garlic oil. It’s fatty and decadent and something you should try at least once.
Ramen Yamadaya, 1728 Buchanan, SF. www.ramen-yamadaya.com
BEEF PHO ROLLS, $8
Swing by this happening Vietnamese cafe for weekend brunch and don’t pass up these rolls of tender rice noodles (made fresh!) with ground beef and Thai basil inside.
Rice Paper Scissors, 1710 Mission, SF. www.ricepaperscissors.com
CHINESE MAI TAI, $9
Nothing says hot summer nights like a great big cup of “erase your brain.”
Li po Lounge, 916 Grant, SF. www.lipolounge.com
OLD JERUSALEM HUMMUS, $7.50
Not only do you get a platter of pitch-perfect hummus, but you get a bowl of fluffy, warm pita — plus pickled beets, olives, a couple more dips, and some old-school charm.
Old Jerusalem, 2976 Mission, SF. (415) 642-5958
CANCUN SUPER NACHOS, $5.99
Sure, Taqueria Cancun’s tortilla chips are notoriously meh, but the perennially popular spot loads so many toppings onto these overflowing nachos that you’ll hardly notice. (You can add meat for $2.)
Taqueria Cancun, 2288 Mission, SF. (415) 252-9560
BISCUIT BENDER BISCUIT AND BUTTER, $3.50–$4
Take your pick of buttermilk biscuits, from double bacon-maple to cheddar to Mexican hot chocolate, and add on special butters like espresso butter, or bacon-bourbon jam.
Biscuit Bender, Ferry Building Marketplace, 1 Ferry Building, SF. www.biscuitbender.com
BEST DAMN GRASS-FED CHEESEBURGER, $8.75; FRANKARONI $5
The burger at this new Divis hotspot lives up to its name, with a housemade sesame-scallion bun, dry-aged meat, secret sauce, Gruyere, red onion, and lettuce. You can add housemade bacon for $1.25, or an egg for $2. And hey! Why not pick up another perfect summer treat: A side of frankaroni, basically fried mac and cheese with hot dog inside, is five dollars.
4505 Burgers & BBQ, 705 Divisadero, SF. www.4505meats.com
YUZU CHICKEN WINGS, $9.50
These are some mighty juicy chicken wings, with a flaky exterior (they’re fried in potato starch); get them for $6 during happy hour (Monday through Friday from 5:30pm–6:30pm).
ICHI Sushi + NI Bar, 3282 Mission, www.ichisuchi.com
EL DORADO TACO, $3.75
These off-menu tacos at La Taqueria are like the precursor to the chalupa. A crispy taco is folded within a soft one, and melted cheese holds the two together. Magic. You have to get the carnitas, of course (it also comes with beans). And it’s worth ponying up for some guacamole on top.
La Taqueria, 2889 Mission, SF. (415) 285-7117
There is too much going on this weekend: The Congress, Not Dead Yet Fest, and more
Y’all ever have that thing where a week or two will go by without a show you’re particularly stoked on, and then all of a sudden there’s one weekend where you want to go to everything? But you can’t, because you’re human, and science is too busy ensuring you’ll have nightmares of outstanding proportions tonight to get on that teleportation thing, so you have to make all these god-awful decisions?
Yeah, me too. This is one of those weekends. Here we go:
FRI/6
The Congress with Andy Allo and Wil West at the Great American Music Hall:
A self-described Army brat who moved around for much of his youth, composer-singer- trumpeter Marcus Cohen grew up on gospel music in church, with a magnet arts school in Philadelphia nurturing his obvious talent at a young age. That explains the unmistakable soul coursing through the veins of The Congress, the 10-piece purveyors of a very danceable funk-soul-hip-hop-R&B stew, who’ll bring their unique sound to the GAMH Friday.
“I tend to write when I’m in transit — on planes, subways,” says Cohen, who recently moved to LA after nine years in SF. We can forgive him the wanderlust if it keeps producing songs like those on last August’s Conversations. Since then, Cohen has been working on new material, adjusting the band’s lineup, and singing more — the record he’s begun writing over the past year sounds more like where he’s at right now, he says. This show should be a good, sweaty dance party, and a good chance to hear some new tunes.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=82MONdiYGN0
French Cassettes with Major Powers and the Lo-Fi Symphony at Awaken Cafe in Oakland: Because nothing says First Friday like a local two-fer, featuring crazy-nerdy-glam-rock-costumed-piano-funk (fresh off a spot at BottleRock) followed by danceably infectious indie pop hooks from these SF scene darlings (fresh from the Locals Stage at BFD). All of it for the low price of zero dollars!
Scraper with Midnite Snaxx and So What at Hemlock: Classically and somehow reassuringly misanthropic punk rock with a sense of humor. Yes please.
SAT/7
Oakland’s own tUne-yArDs with dream-team electro-funk-pop East Bay openers (and Goldie winners) The Seshen at The Fillmore: Duh.
Not Dead Yet Fest with Strange Vine, Cellar Doors, Annie Girl & the Flight, Ash Reiter, and tons more at Thee Parkside: Don’t believe the hype — not every single SF musician is deserting for more affordable pastures. It was with that in mind that the Bay Bridged organized this one-day fest, with a nice, diverse lineup of local indie kids. Fresno’s Strange Vine in particular put on a weirdly alluring psychedelic shitshow of a good time.
Les Claypool’s Duo De Twang with Reformed Whores at Great American: Music writer and lady with good taste Haley Zaremba says: Les Claypool has an amazing eye for weirdness. His band Primus has made a decades-long career out of defying every possible genre classification, wearing monkey masks onstage, and naming their albums things like Pork Soda and Sailing the Seas of Cheese. Now Claypool is going the opposite direction, creating the most minimalist, deconstructed music possible, with one vocal, one bass, one guitar, and one makeshift percussion tool — but don’t worry, it’s still bizarre.
In his Duo De Twang, which was originally organized as a one-off for Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, Claypool teams up with longtime buddy and collaborator Bryan Kehoe to play originals and tasty twang covers (including the Bee Gees and Alice in Chains). The show promises down-to-earth, intimate weirdness, plus seriously incredible musicianship.
Lagos Roots Afrobeat Ensemble at The Chapel: How often do you get to see a 17-piece afrobeat ensemble in a room like the Chapel’s? Led by Geoffrey OMadhebo, these musicians will temporarily make you forget exactly what decade and continent you currently inhabit, in a good way.
What’s the hidden message of @HiddenCash?
What are we to make of @HiddenCash, the “anonymous social experiment for good,” created by a wealthy Bay Area man who has told media he just wants to put a smile on people’s faces?
The anonymous donor, who reportedly made his fortune in real estate, has been leaving envelopes stuffed with cash around the Bay Area (and more recently in Los Angeles), posting context clues on Twitter, and watching the social-media fueled treasure hunt unfold as wildly excited winners dash to the cash and swoon, all to mainstream media’s delight.
Whoever this rich guy is, his oddball brand of DIY philanthropy has certainly generated a buzz, with 450,000 Twitter followers amassed in a short time.
But beyond the treasure hunts and online media blitz, @HiddenCash is also playing around with a hefty concept: The value of money. Instead of spending it, he’s giving it out, apparently to ignite some trend of generosity. His timing is interesting, given that income inequality is now higher in San Francisco than anywhere else nationwide.
@HiddenCash Your generosity & good will have brought out the best in people~ thank you. Hope you’re enjoying this as much as the rest of us!
— Linda Bisaillon (@LBisaillon) June 2, 2014
While expressing pure intentions of spreading “love,” “generosity,” and “EPIC fun,” @HiddenCash is waltzing into the public arena from the side of the fence where wealth is growing, not shrinking. Cash does not equal survival to him; instead, he has the luxury of using it as a prop in a grand experiment. Rather than use it to buy stuff, he can use it to produce fleeting moments of joy, buzz, and positive media.
But after a week of jolly experimenation, it seems @HiddenCash started to become overwhelmed by being sought out by cash-strapped souls in desperate need. Critics are deconstructing his actions, because the anonymous millionaire made his fortune in real estate, and many lives have been turned upside down by eviction in San Francisco as of late. Is this experiment being conducted as a way to give back after taking part in that dirty business? We don’t know for sure; @HiddenCash did not respond to a request for an interview.
On the other side of the fence, money problems loom large. The rent is too damn high. Friends and communities are being splintered apart as economic shifts trigger eviction, reconstructing social realities in long-established neighborhoods. Many households don’t have enough to put food on the table.
Against this grim backdrop of the widening wealth gap, @HiddenCash is playing a game that almost resembles a redistribution of wealth. Of course, his actions alone won’t make a dent toward lessening inequality. But in media interviews, @HiddenCash has talked about “starting a movement,” presenting himself as a trailblazer for other rich people who might follow suit.
If you are going to copy our idea, great, as long as you do it responsibly and for the right reasons. And this week we are only here in SF.
— Hidden Cash (@HiddenCash) June 2, 2014
Think for a second about what a wave of @HiddenCash copycats would mean — if more and more rich people simply decided to give freely for the sake of making others happy. It still probably wouldn’t do much to cure inequality, but it might have a positive effect for the donors themselves. This fascinating New York Times piece dives into the effects of unchecked greed, or “wealth addiction.” As the author, a Wall Street banker who became horrified by cash-obsessed culture, wrote:
“Ever see what a drug addict is like when he’s used up his junk? He’ll do anything — walk 20 miles in the snow, rob a grandma — to get a fix. Wall Street was like that. In the months before bonuses were handed out, the trading floor started to feel like a neighborhood in ‘The Wire’ when the heroin runs out.”
Maybe @HiddenCash’s message to the rich is more important than the message he’s sending to treasure hunters. Maybe he’s signaling to the wealthy that money isn’t, in fact, everything.
That’s a movement worth a retweet.
That said, is anyone who benefits from income inequality really going to buy it?
I wouldn’t bet on it.
The Damned on playing small venues, headgear that protects you from spit, and why they won’t stop ’til the Stones do
For nearly four decades now, legendary British rockers The Damned have been haunting stages around the world with their brand of gothic-inspired punk.
Since storming onto the London punk scene in 1976, the band has evolved and survived multiple line-up changes over the years, with the group now led by founding members Dave Vanian and Captain Sensible, who are keeping the original spirit of The Damned alive and well.
Today, Vanian’s punk-meets-rockabilly crooner vocals and Sensible’s wildly blistering guitar are backed up by the jackhammer rhythm section of drummer Pinch and bassist Stu West, along with keyboardist Monty Oxy Moron, who often looks like a possessed version of Beethoven, his hands flailing wildly about when not pounding the keys.
Bay Area fans are in for a treat this week as The Damned play two shows in Northern California ahead of their appearance at the Ink-N-Iron festival in Long Beach — and these are the only U.S. gigs on the books for the year.
“I love visiting San Francisco, it’s the most European city in North America and a vegetarian’s paradise. My home is in Brighton, the gay capital of the UK and a lot of the relaxed liberal attitude we have there is over here too,” says Captain Sensible, via email. “I like the way the Bay Area is a collection of villages all with their different vibe, but mainly it’s the smart, friendly people here that make a visit such fun.”
Looking back over almost 40 years of on and off history as a band, Sensible offers a candid assessment of what life has been like as a member of The Damned.
“I’m not one for regrets, we’ve had a splendid crack as a band. A lot of things that went pear shaped was our own stupid fault — and how we survived the mania of the 70s / 80s without anyone dropping dead I’ve no idea. But as you can imagine it was bloody good fun in a time when bands could pretty much do what ever they wanted in the studio without label types breathing down our necks; in fact, when they did turn up we always put on a little show for them, band splitting up, drummer climbing in a grand piano to add nonsensical avant-garde overdubs on a straightforward punk tune, food fights. They got the idea in the end and left us alone, and we actually made a few decent records despite all the chaos.”
The Damned were the first punk band from the UK to release a single — “New Rose” — and an album, Damned Damned Damned.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rTfyUqVqX-0&feature=kp
They also broke ground as the first to cross the pond and tour the United States, a jaunt that saw them play the infamous Mabuhay Gardens in San Francisco back in 1977.
“It’s all a blur as you can imagine, but we met loads of young upstarts who told us they were getting their bands together. It was a great time, a clean slate if you like. And it felt good to give the jaded stadium rock stars of the time a kick up the arse.”
“I also remember American beer being universally appalling. In fact I would cram my suitcase with as much booze as possible, if you can believe that. Now, of course Californian craft beer is the cutting edge of brewing and we intend to visit a few breweries this trip.”
As for Sensible’s now-signature stage attire — a red beret and crazy sunglasses — it turns out it had nothing to do with trying to make a fashion statement: It was born from the environment that came to epitomize live shows in the early days of the punk movement.
“The truth is that at first I only wore a beret to stop the ‘gob’ (spit) getting in my hair. After Johnny Rotten and Rat Scabies had their famous spitting incident at a Pistols gig in ’76 it became part of the punk scene for a year or so. The problem was the hot stage lights baked the gob in your hair and it was almost impossible to remove the hard lumps afterwards, so I wore a beret and sunglasses to stop it getting into my eyes. That’s the true story, it wasn’t fashion — it was self preservation!”
Fans will be able to hear all sorts of first-hand accounts and behind the scenes stories in the near future when a documentary film about The Damned is released, made by Wes Orshoski, the filmmaker behind “Lemmy,” the award-winning portrait of the iconic Motorhead frontman.
“I took Wes to do an interview outside the former home of my parents — where I spent my school years — and no sooner was the camera rolling than a drug crazed mugger made a grab for it and a good old fashioned punch up ensued in which $50,000 worth of film equipment got completely trashed. Wes ended up being rushed to hospital. He probably needed a rabies antidote,” says Sensible.
“I should have mentioned to him that I was born and raised in the roughest part of South London — where one person’s posh movie gear is someone else’s years supply of crack cocaine.”
Despite difficulties such as that jarring incident, Sensible says that the rest of the project has been proceeding along well.
“He’s captured some very funny footage already as the Damned are quite a strange bunch these days. People think they know us, but I reckon there will be a few surprised faces when the film is released.”
One fact that casual fans of The Damned might not know is that Captain Sensible is a huge train buff — he’s driven steam engines in England, and even had a diesel locomotive named after him.
“There was a company that had a punk fan as boss and he named his locos after his heroes. John Peel, Joe Strummer — mine was originally going to be called Morrissey but it came to the guy’s attention that he made a point NEVER to travel by train. Whereas I do all the time, so I got it instead!”
Unfortunately, Cotswold Rail went out of business a few years ago, and when the engine was sold, a disgruntled employee that was owed money stole the nameplates.
“I’d maybe buy ‘em if he offered, gotta be worth a fiver, eh?” says Sensible.
While the Damned often perform at large music festivals around the world these days, Sensible still favors smaller shows, like the one the band will play at Slim’s on Wed/4.
“I prefer the club gigs, the closeness to the audience. And when I see bands, that’s also the environment I prefer. Festivals with screens and the musicians half a mile away on a distant stage is not great is it? The problem is that now we are a certain age, and there’s not likely to be another club tour as it’s a bit knackering.”
Although Sensible mentions that the members of The Damned aren’t exactly spring chickens anymore, he’s adamant that they have no intention of hanging it up anytime soon.
“The Damned ain’t going to quit while the Stones are still lurching on,” he says. “We’re not gonna be beat by a bunch of old Tories.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8m2JyiggwAU
The Damned, with Koffin Kats and Stellar Corpses
Wednesday, June 4
8pm, $30
Slim’s
333 11th St., SF
(415) 255-0333
www.slimspresents.com
Listen: Katie Day’s anti-tech bro jam “San Francisco (Before the West Falls)”
Between POW!’s “Hi-Tech Boom,” the schticky “Google Bus Song” from Cachebox, and Violent Vickie’s “Fuck You!!!!!”, it’s safe to say San Francisco musicians — the ones that are left here, haha! sorry — are currently leading the nation in anti-gentrification music.
This is a good thing, of course. It means the city still has a pulse. You know what we’ve been sorely lacking, however? As Emma Goldman basically said, give the people a summery, socially conscious anthem we can fucking dance to.
Enter Katie Day, who self-released her new EP, Burn It to the Ground, yesterday. There’s a lot to like here, including a love song for the Lower Haight, but the instant earworm is a semi-tongue-in-cheek indie-electro-pop jam called “San Francisco (Before the West Falls),” with shimmery, bubble-gum synths and keys layered with lyrics that lament the bygone days when coffee was 80 cents, and give serious side-eye to the tech bros moving into her neighborhood: “Someone told me about the boys next door/They put the boards on the window of the record store/And now the kids don’t get to play no more…”
“The extreme wealth disparity we’re experiencing in SF as a result of tech can make living here as an artist straight-up oppressive, but I think having a song that speaks to that oppression and makes you want to get up and dance anyway can negate any feeling of self-pity, even if you’re living under constant threat of eviction while there’s trained German Shepherd acting as an elevator operator at the Google office,” Day wrote me when I asked about her inspirations. “It’s something they can’t take away from you.”
Get your un-gentrifiable dance on when she plays with Stages of Sleep, New Spell, and Memory Motel this Sat/7, 8pm at Amnesia.
Secret passages
culture@sfbg.com
THE WEEKNIGHTER Weekends are for amateurs. Weeknights are for pros. That’s why each week Broke-Ass Stuart (www.brokeassstuart.com) will be exploring a different San Francisco bar, bringing you stories about the places and people who make San Francisco one of the most phenomenal cities in the world. Who wants a drink?
It was weird that Anthony wanted to go to Bourbon & Branch (501 Jones St, SF. 415-346-1735) for his birthday. “But you don’t drink,” I said, hoping to find out why someone who’d never had a drop of booze in his life, due to being born with a bum liver, would want to go to a fancy bar. “I know that, dummy,” he told me. “But I heard they have a secret room that opens up when you pull a book!”
He had me there. Bourbon & Branch has a few secret rooms that open up when you do various Hardy Boys-esque actions. It’s one of the bar’s many charms. When it opened in 2006, there were no mustache bars in San Francisco. You know what I mean by mustache bars — the ones where a bow tie and suspender wearing, mustachioed man squeezes tiny tinctures into your drink from a utensil clearly invented by alchemists. They are omnipresent in current-day San Francisco but when Bourbon & Branch opened, it was the first one in the city.
At this point, anyone who spends a lot of time in bars is pretty tired of cocktails that are too precious and take too much time, and most of us are waiting for the backlash when places go back to specializing in a shot and a beer. But the thing that makes Bourbon & Branch great is that, while it can take a lot of credit for kicking off the pre-Prohibition cocktail craze in San Francisco, it still does it better than any of them. Why? Because of it’s attention to detail.
They say you’ll always remember your first one. But often times your second one is far better. The first speakeasy style bar I went to was Little Branch back when I lived in NYC, and it was cool. But it wasn’t until I moved back to San Francisco that I saw the trope played out to its full potential. Walking into Bourbon & Branch that first time in 2008 made the history nerd in me squeal. It felt like a real speakeasy. It was full of dark wood and was low lit by candles and a chandelier. Bartenders in ties and fedoras shook things vigorously while making cocktails that hadn’t been popular in half a century. People were only served if they were seated and they were encouraged to speak quietly.
And then I got to the backroom where suddenly the bookshelf opened and an entire other bar was laid out before me, filled with people drinking similarly well-made drinks while laughing and talking loudly. “Where the fuck am I,” I asked myself before realizing I couldn’t afford the place and leaving out the backdoor.
So a few years ago when Anthony said he wanted to go here for his birthday my first reaction was, “Motherfucker, why are we gonna go somewhere with $12 cocktails when you don’t even drink?” His answer was relatable to any of us who have ever dreamed of traveling through time or going on the kind of adventures you only see in movies or read about in books. He wanted to go through the secret passageway and spend time in a San Francisco that no longer exists.
So do I.
Stuart Schuffman aka Broke-Ass Stuart, is a travel writer, poet, and TV host. You can find his online shenanigans at www.brokeassstuart.com
Rolling along
arts@sfbg.com
THEATER Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II’s groundbreaking 1927 musical, Show Boat, transformed one of Broadway’s major theatrical forms from a light and episodic operetta-style divertissement into a red-blooded American art form. Wedding spectacular entertainment (its producer was none other than super-showman Florenz Ziegfeld) with a full-fledged drama, Show Boat‘s expanded canvas came nearer the realm of classical opera, as all elements of the production, beginning with the music, orbited tightly around the story — which in addition to humor and hijinx sported complex characters and serious social content.
Since 1927, opera and musical theater have continued to grow closer at various points — most famously in the work of crossover composers like George Gershwin and Leonard Bernstein. San Francisco Opera’s co-production of Show Boat, the first time the company has essayed the legendary musical, turns out to be a wonderfully successful case in point: a crowd-pleasing hybrid of musical-theater style, sharply delineated drama, rousing choreography (from Michele Lynch), and full operatic glory (including an appropriately-sized orchestra and chorus). It’s a muscular production with a light step and buoyant spirit that shows off the best in a story that not only affirmed a common humanity among those up and down the ladder of social status, but also registered the injustice and violence of the American racial caste system in tones boldly progressive for the time.
Of course Show Boat, for all its socially and artistically progressive aspects, was still a product of the 1920s. And while it has been revived many times, the dialogue and other details have also undergone revisions to keep pace with social attitudes, conventions, and sensitivities, especially with regard to race. The SF Opera production under Maestro John DeMain follows DeMain and General Director David Gockley’s former collaboration on the historic 1982 revival for the Houston Grand Opera, which restored for the first time since 1927 significant sections of the original dialogue and score. The opera opens on a beautiful riverside quay awash with Technicolor hues (in perhaps indirect homage to the 1951 MGM film version), while the backside of the ship rises from the stage at the War Memorial Opera House like a delicate three-layer cake in the first of set designer Peter J. Davison and lighting designer Mark McCullough’s consistently atmospheric scenic environments.
Based on the 1926 novel by celebrated author and Algonquin wit Edna Ferber (who with frequent collaborator George S. Kaufman brought The Royal Family to Broadway the same week that the musical version of Show Boat set sail), the story spans the 1880s to the 1920s and revolves around the crew and passengers of the Cotton Blossom, a Mississippi show boat plying the river’s shoreline inhabitants with melodrama and comic fare. The boat’s operator is the warm-hearted Cap’n Andy Hawks (played by Broadway and local legend Bill Irwin in a memorable SF Opera debut) and his wife, the pants-wearing disciplinarian Parthy Ann (a comically fierce and ultimately redeeming Harriet Harris). Their innocent daughter and the story’s heroine, Magnolia (played with affecting pluck by a radiant Heidi Stober, the fine American soprano), falls for a rakish riverboat gambler named Gaylord Ravenal (baritone Michael Todd Simpson in a suave and graceful performance), whom she weds and follows to Chicago.
Magnolia and Gaylord’s doomed marriage, but enduring romance, makes up the central storyline, while a significant secondary plot involves the downward career of the talented actress and singer Julie La Verne (given a sultry and wrenching interpretation by soprano, and esteemed SF Opera regular, Patricia Racette). In an early scene, Julie’s husband, Steve (Patrick Cummings), fights with his wife’s spurned suitor (James Asher) and the latter takes revenge by tipping off the local sheriff (Kevin Blackton) to the illegality of their marriage under the state’s anti-miscegenation law. In this way we learn that Julie is of mixed-race ancestry. A bickering but loving African American couple among the Cotton Blossom‘s crewmembers, Queenie (the regal soprano Angela Renée Simpson) and Joe (bass Morris Robinson in a robust, beautifully measured performance), are also significant supporting characters. Indeed, the most of the show’s great songs are associated with these secondary characters, not least “Ol’ Man River” and “Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man.”
The show itself strikes a knowing stance with respect to narrative, making good fun of the stilted melodramas put on by Cap’n Andy while reveling in the backstage intrigue and the characters’ own double-playing onstage (a situation that nicely serves the woo-pitching in the number “Make Believe”). Even the fight that breaks out on the dock between Steve and Pete at the outset of the play gets co-opted by Cap’n Andy, who in a hasty bit of diplomacy tells the crowd it was just a preview of the night’s entertainment onboard. This covering is also an uncovering, however, since it hints at the complex relationship between the stories onstage and real life in all its messiness.
Of course, what “real life” the musical expresses is still very much idealized as well as stylized. But the SF Opera production proves there’s still a pulse to the 1927 narrative, and it’s as vital as the enduring score with which it’s intimately bound. With panache but also keen sensitivity, the show conveys Ferber’s original emphasis on the shared humanity of rich and poor, white and black, and the compassion a bird’s eye perspective on it all can breed. In Show Boat, absurd melodramas and life’s everyday triumphs and failures play out alongside each other as so many ripples on the surface of a deep and indifferent river — a dark and mysterious universe that, in the image of the show’s great recurring theme, just keeps rollin’ along. *
SHOW BOAT
Through July 2, $24-$379
War Memorial Opera House
301 Van Ness, SF
Hungry, thirsty
culture@sfbg.com
NEWLY OPEN
Positive reports are already rolling in for chef-owner Lauren Kiino’s newest project, Red Dog (303 2nd St., SF. www.reddogrestaurant) — woof! Not only did she open a restaurant in a funky part of town that needed more dining options, but her fresh, rustic food also offers easy, middle-of-the-week appeal: when you don’t know what you want, she gives you options. Maybe it’s her famed egg salad for lunch, or smoked duck hash browns with poached eggs for brunch, or a Massa brown rice and market vegetable bowl for dinner. You’ll also find a house-ground classic beef burger and fries any time of day. It’s a casual, neighborhood spot, with seating for 120, plus a bar area (and another 25 will fit on the patio soon). Swing by for a bite and cocktail before a Giants game — happy hour runs daily from 3pm–6pm, with both food and drink specials. And psssst, they make a mean Scotch egg. Opening hours are lunch Mon–Fri 11am–3pm, dinner daily 5pm–10pm, brunch Sat–Sun 10am–3pm. Breakfast will be added in a couple of weeks: Mon–Fri 8am–10:30am.
New life has come to the corner of 16th Street and Guerrero in the Mission, with the opening of Chino in the former Andalu, from the partners behind Tacolicious. The appetizing menu is going to ply you with housemade dumplings (made by a dumpling Jedi), flavor-packed wings, light dishes like yuba noodles with cilantro-ginger “salsa verde” and pickled shiitake mushrooms or cold sesame noodles with summer squash, lumpia from the chef de cuisine’s family recipe, shrimp wonton noodle soup, and four kinds of stuffed bao. It all sounds tasty and fun, doesn’t it? That’s definitely the point—the design is also playful and colorful, and there’s a bar with some cocktails, like the Boba Colada, that will have you feeling a little silly in no time. There are 66 seats, sure to be filling up with folks chowing down on this surprisingly affordable menu. It’s kind of a breath of fresh air in these days of $32 entrées (and they’re using quality ingredients too). Open daily 11:30am–1am.
Downtown workers have a new, and muy grande, taqueria to hit up, Uno Dos Tacos (595 Market St., SF. www.unodostaco.com). The original location was a short-term trial on Polk Street, in case the name seems familiar. The menu is divided up into tacos, burritos, salads, or a plate with your choice of meats: carne asada, chicken tinga, carnitas, lengua, fish (try the fried fish taco!), or vegetarian. Tacos are $3.25 each, $4.50 for fish, and burritos are $6.50 for vegetarian or $7.25 for meat. Considering the high-quality meats and produce, and the corn tortillas are made in-house (you can even check out the groovy machine), that pricing is pretty fab. Best of all: there’s a huge outdoor patio. We’re talking room for 80 people. And with the full bar, this place has you covered. Take over a picnic table with your after-work posse and you’re set. Open for lunch and dinner, 10:30am–9pm.
BALLIN’ ON A BUDGET
It’s that time of the year again, when SF restaurants offer some lunch and dinner specials for Dine About Town (www.dineabouttown.com), running now through June 15th. You can check out a special lunch at Spruce or Campton Place (lunch deals are a prix-fixe lunch of two or three courses for $18.95), or a three-course dinner for $36.95 at places like Dosa on Fillmore, La Mar, and M.Y. China. There are more than 100 restaurants participating, check it out.
Marcia Gagliardi is the founder of the weekly tablehopper e-column; subscribe for more at www.tablehopper.com. On Twitter: @tablehopper.
This Week’s Picks: June 4 – 10, 2014
WEDNESDAY 4
‘Mr. Irresistible’
Multifaceted showman and irrepressible art-dragster D’Arcy Drollinger, the brains and falsies behind such contemporary camp classics as Shit & Champagne and Sex and the City Live!, is poised to deliver on his biggest project since Project: Lohan, or even 2010’s cutting-edge Scalpel!: A sci-fi musical comedy about love and robots and office work entitled Mr. Irresistible. First produced in workshop form last year at New York’s La Mama E.T.C., the Aesop-inspired story of unpopular Eileen Morchinsky and her titular mechanical friend (purchased from a magazine ad and destined to turn her life right around) sails into the fairly exotic Alcazar Theatre for a limited run, aloft on a score by Christopher Winslow, book and lyrics by Drollinger, and some big-wig talent. (Robert Avila)
Through June 8, 8pm; Sun. 7pm only, $25
Alcatraz Theatre
650 Geary, SF
(415) 766-4588
The Damned
Remember, kid: Heroes get remembered, but legends never die. Yes, we’re talking about THE Damned. Formed in 1976, The Damned were the first punk band in the UK to release a single, a record, or tour the United States. They cut their teeth opening for bands like the Sex Pistols and T. Rex, and are still going strong. Not only were they punk rock pioneers, they also were some of the frontrunners of the goth scene in the ’80s, and now, nearly into their fourth decade, The Damned are still going strong. With an ever-changing lineup and an incredible repertoire of revolutionary tunes, these dudes are incredible at evolving and even better at performing. They’re not to be missed tonight at Slim’s. (Haley Zaremba)
With Koffin Kats, Stellar Corpses
9pm, $30
Slim’s
333 11th St, SF
(415) 225-0333
THURSDAY 5
XV: St. James Infirmary 15-Year Anniversary Party
Lost in the outpouring of accolades in the wake of the great Maya Angelou’s passing last week was her crucial time as a sex worker, which she chronicled, unashamed, in her 1974 book Gather Together in My Name. It’s indicative of the stigma sex workers still face when even the well-documented past of the nation’s literary godmother is scrubbed free of any reference. San Francisco’s own groundbreaking St. James Infirmary, the first occupational safety and health clinic for sex workers in the United States, deals with the damage of that stigma by offering non-judgmental medical and social services. The organization also knows how to celebrate: This huge party and fundraiser boasts one of the city’s best house DJs, David Harness, as well as porn-star-turned-DJ Ricky Sinz, movers and shakers from the international sex workers rights movement, sexy pole dancing, a Kink.com demonstration dungeon, and oodles more. The whole joint will be singin’ and swingin’ and getting’ merry like Christmas. (Marke B.)
9pm-3am, $20 ($40 includes free lapdance)
Temple
540 Howard, SF
Urban Air Market Summer Night Block Party
Urban Air Market’s newest addition to its community-enriched neighborhood events around the city begins tonight. Head on over to Fern Alley — a hidden walkway located between Polk and Larkin Streets — for this one-night affair. In partnership with the Lower Polk Art Walk, Urban Air Market is hosting a summer night block party of sustainable art, fashion, food, and live music at this unassuming Tenderloin location. While occasionally occupied by a small farmers’ market, tonight Fern Alley will be bustling with food trucks, henna tattooing, face painting, interactive fashion film installations, live bands, and countless booths from sustainable and local brands: Oaklandish, Synergy Organic Clothing, Indosole, and Skunkfunk USA to name a few. (Laura B. Childs)
6pm, free
Fern Alley (Fern St. between Polk and Larkin St.)
Nature For Sale
For the past few years, Bolivian-born artist Javier Rocabado has been producing stunning, icon-like portraits of famed gays like RuPaul, early AIDS activists, and local beauties. All these figures have been posed with gold halos against Rocabado’s signature dollar-bill background, glowing with symbolic meaning. (Rocabado paints only the backside of the dollar.) His new series turns to nature: Beautiful bird specimens, frogs, and weeping monkeys take on aspects of holy saints. “I want to point out the universally ridiculous thinking of ‘economics is first’ under Capitalism. Through this new series of paintings, I strive to create images of animals that allow the viewers to experience the false pride in human civilization to conquer nature and profit from it,” he says. Dark spirits of Chevron, BP, and other disaster-fueling multinationals hover at the borders of his exquisite new works, but their sheer gorgeousness radiates hope as well as guilt. (Marke B.)
Through July 1, opening party 8-11pm, free
Public Barber Salon
571 Geary, SF
FRIDAY 6
‘Test’
Test is not great, but it’s a beautiful, honest film that evokes the mid-’80s, when AIDS was ravaging San Francisco’s gay community, a time when a test had become available but no cure was in sight. The film follows a naïve young man’s coming of age (a splendid Scott Marlow of LEVY Dance) as a gay man and as dancer in a local modern dance company. The film excellently captures what it meant living at the edge of uncertainty, when nothing could be taken for granted and yet, despite of it all, everything seemed possible. Test includes extensive and fine dance sequences choreographed by the remarkable Sidra Bell. Fun to see was just how many other local dancers were involved in this small, but big-hearted movie. (Rita Felciano)
Opens June 6, times vary
Presidio Theater
2340 Chestnut, SF
(415) 776-2388
Rialto Cinemas Elmwood
2966 College, Berk.
(510) 433-9730
The Buzzcocks
It must be punk rock royalty week at Slim’s, because just two days after The Damned grace the SoMa stage the Buzzcocks are coming to town. Part of the Holy Trinity that also includes the Clash and the Sex Pistols, the Buzzcocks are a crucial piece of UK punk history. Bringing the world such killer tunes as “Ever Fallen in Love” and “What Do I Get,” challenging British radio with songs like “Orgasm Addict” and confronting the punk community with an open and serious examination of homosexuality, the Buzzcocks are a tireless and fearless force of nature. Plus, 38 years into their career, they’re still touring regularly and have a new record out this year. Is there anything more punk than refusing to succumb to gray hair or body fat? (Zaremba)
With Doug Gillard, Images
8pm, $35
Slim’s
333 11th St, SF
(415) 225-0333
SATURDAY 7
Les Claypool’s Duo De Twang
Les Claypool has an amazing eye for weirdness. His band Primus has made a decades-long career out of defying every possible genre classification, wearing monkey masks onstage, and naming their albums things like Pork Soda and Sailing the Seas of Cheese. Now Claypool is going the opposite direction, creating the most minimalist, deconstructed music possible, with one vocal, one bass, one guitar, and one makeshift percussion tool — but don’t worry, it’s still bizarre. In his Duo De Twang, which was originally organized as a one-off for Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, Claypool teams up with longtime buddy and collaborator Bryan Kehoe to play originals and tasty twang covers (including the Bee Gees and Alice in Chains). The show promises down-to-earth, intimate weirdness, plus seriously incredible musicianship. (Zaremba)
With Reformed Whores
9pm, $38
Great American Music Hall
859 O’Farrell, SF
(415) 885-0750
tUnE-yArDs
What a difference five years makes: Merrill Garbus moved to the Bay around that time, as word quickly spread about the undeniable force of her musical vision, one that draws from African, folk, and electro-acoustic quarters, and her visceral one-woman performances. Since her maiden tUnE-yArDs outing, BiRd-BrAiNs, she’s put out the album that every critic could agree on in 2011, whokill, which scored her the coveted top spot in that year’s Pazz and Jop poll. Her third full-length, Nikki Nack, takes tUnE-yArDs further, into Garbus’s fascination with Haitian artistic traditions, as she turned to the country’s boula drum to lay the groundwork for the recording’s intoxicating call and response. (Kimberly Chun)
With the Seshen
9pm, $26
The Fillmore
1805 Geary, SF
(415) 346-6000
SUNDAY 8
Silent Frisco Beats on Ocean Beach
Summertime throwdowns are the types of shows the brilliant Silent Frisco have made their niche — take a pristine outdoor environment, add groovin’ music and people, let fun ensue. “Scene Not Heard” as the Silent team puts it. The key to making these public shows possible is ditching speakers and substituting wireless headphones, removing complaint-inducing noise, and leaving the amusingly awesome sight of befuddled onlookers observing limbs gyrating to what appears to be silence. For this event, two channels allow movers and shakers to select from a rotation of California electronic music talent throughout the day. Fresh off touring with The Glitch Mob, Ana Sia will bring big, bouncy, driving bass, while Dutch grandmasters Kraak & Smaak headline with two hours of their lush, disco-tinged sound. (Kevin Lee)
With Kraak & Smaak, Ana Sia, Pumpkin, JLabs, Motion Potion, and more
11am, $20; kids and dogs free (all-ages show)
Ocean Beach Great Highway at Balboa Ave, SF
TUESDAY 10
Tom Robbins
“If Tibetan Peach Pie doesn’t read like a normal memoir, that may be because I haven’t exactly led what most normal people would consider a normal life,” forewarns writer Tom Robbins in the preface of his first nonfiction book. With that on readers’ minds, Robbins reflects on his colorful adventures, from an accident laden-youth in Depression-era North Carolina in which his mother dubbed him “Tommy Rotten,” to an established literary career in Washington state. Along the way, Robbins studies the weather in Korea, experiments with acid, embarks on international religious journeys, tangos with Hollywood, and discovers some love. Tibetan Peach Pie‘s 41 succinct tall tales crackle with a Robbins’ rare blend of warmth, wisdom, and wit. (Lee)
In conversation with Isabel Duffy
7:30pm, $27
Nourse Theatre
275 Hayes, SF
(415) 392-4400
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Rep Clock: June 4 – 10, 2014
Schedules are for Wed/4-Tue/10 except where noted. Director and year are given when available. Double and triple features marked with a •. All times pm unless otherwise specified.
CASTRO 429 Castro, SF; (415) 621-6120, www.castrotheatre.com. $8.50-11. Check website for program information.
CHRISTOPHER B. SMITH RAFAEL FILM CENTER 1118 Fourth St, San Rafael; (415) 454-1222, www.cafilm.org. $6.50-$10.75. We Are the Best! (Moodysson, 2013), June 6-12, call for times.
CLAY 2261 Fillmore, SF; www.landmarktheatres.com. $10. “Midnight Movies:” Mean Girls (Waters, 2004), Fri-Sat, midnight.
NEW PARKWAY 474 24th St, Oakl; www.thenewparkway.com. Free. “First Friday Shorts,” works by Youth Radio’s young artists, Fri, 6.
ROXIE 3117 and 3125 16th St, SF; (415) 863-1087, www.roxie.com. $6.50-11. San Francisco Green Film Festival, environmental films, events, panels, and special guests, Wed. Complete program details and tickets (most shows $15) at www.sfgreenfilmfest.org. San Francisco Documentary Film Festival, June 5-19. Complete program details, including additional venues, and tickets (most shows $12) at www.sfindie.com.
TEMESCAL ART CENTER 511 48th St, Oakl; www.shapeshifterscinema.com. Free. Shapeshifters Cinema presents: “The Light Art of Dennis Keefe and Glenn McKay,” Sun, 8.
YERBA BUENA CENTER FOR THE ARTS 701 Mission, SF; www.ybca.org. $8-10. “Astonishing Animation: The Films of Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli:” Spirited Away (Miyazaki, 2002), Thu, 7:30 and Sat, 7; Princess Mononoke (Miyazaki, 1997), Fri-Sat, 7:30; Pom Poko (Takahata, 1994), Sat, 1; Ponyo (Miyazaki, 2009), Sun, 1: From Up on Poppy Hill (Miyazaki, 2011), Sun, 3:30; Castle in the Sky (Miyazaki, 1986), Sun, 5:30. *