SF

If she could turn back time

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› johnny@sfbg.com

"The only way out is forward!" a character exclaims roughly 65 minutes into 1972’s 111-minute-long The Poseidon Adventure. The same guy says the same thing around 46 minutes into Anne McGuire’s 2006 remake-reversal of exactly the same length, Adventure Poseidon The. Yet no matter how or when it’s sliced, the soon-to-be-doomed character’s sentiment isn’t quite right. In Ronald Neame’s original, the way out is actually up — albeit through the bottom of a capsized ship. In McGuire’s version, the way out isn’t exactly backward (she doesn’t merely rewind The Poseidon Adventure) but rather forward in reverse. By faithfully following the bread-crumb trail laid down by the 1972’s film’s editor, Harold F. Kress, McGuire rescues the film’s huge cast of survivors and casualties and its gargantuan ship.

In the process, McGuire gives viewers a chance to see a beloved cult movie anew. She may not have time for on-deck shuffleboard, but her rigorous reshuffling and storyboarding of The Poseidon Adventure is a rare example of formal art practice that never loses touch with the pop appeal of its source material. Ambivalent passion for the too-abundant things and people of pop culture is at the root of McGuire’s admirably varied movies to date and even her current official biography, which begins by stating that she was born in the valley of the Jolly Green Giant (meaning Minnesota).

In 1991’s classic Joe DiMaggio, 1, 2, 3, McGuire stalks-serenades the actual slugger as he takes a senior stroll through the Marina, and in 1997’s equally great I’m Crazy and You’re Not Wrong, she sings and rambles like a wigged-out ghost who’s emerged from cracks in Liza Minnelli’s and Judy Garland’s skulls during one of their black-and-white TV duets. Adventure Poseidon The isn’t the first time McGuire has hopscotched from an original film’s end to its beginning — she did so with 1992’s Strain Andromeda The. But in this case, as with her more performative work, she’s overtly drawing from life experience — she has survived a shipwreck. In that sense, this latest project is directly connected to a movie like 1996’s When I Was a Monster, in which McGuire takes a long mirrored look at her injured body shortly after she’d literally fallen off a cliff.

Circling against itself, Adventure Poseidon The‘s choppy dramatic momentum — each shot moves toward an end, then connects to the start of a scene that originally came before it — heightens the visual properties of Neame’s original. Characters retreat from dynamic deaths. Fatal falls through rings of fire become burning baptisms. Lit from below, dazed onlookers could have wandered in from a Euro art film of the ’60s. The ebbs and flows make one of John Williams’s less sappy scores more interesting. A viewer can dwell on the strange ’70s trend (see also: Dario Argento’s 1976 Suspiria) of people plummeting through stained-glass windows and wonder whether it’s Neame’s movie or John Waters’s 1974 Female Trouble that contains the most surreally violent abuse of a Christmas tree. And of course there’s Oscar-winning Shelley Winters, the movie’s underwater swimming champ and "600-pound swordfish," giving a truly heroic performance, triumphant even when her rump’s tinsel-strewn in close-up.

Lacking a Charlton Heston who has since gone gun crazy or a tainted O.J. Simpson, the cast of The Poseidon Adventure is both Ernest Borgnine–ed and benign in comparison to those of the disaster films that followed. When Jennifer Jones fell from a great glass elevator in 1974’s The Towering Inferno, she was following in the footsteps of Poseidon‘s Stella Stevens, and Ava Gardner’s fatal drowning in Earthquake‘s Los Angeles sewer tunnels the same year is another variation on that doomed-lady theme. One suspects that just as McGuire was born in the valley of the Jolly Green Giant, she also grew up in the era of the disaster movie. With Adventure Poseidon The — a perfect movie for what one can only pray is the end of the George W. Bush era — she returns to the scene of a catastrophe and proves that if there’s got to be a morning after, there’s also got to be a night before. *

ADVENTURE POSEIDON THE (THE UNSINKING OF MY SHIP)

Thurs/29, 6:30 p.m. (screening and artist talk), $5–$7

San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, Phyllis Wattis Theater

151 Third St., SF

(415) 357-4000

www.sfmoma.org

www.vdb.org

Look for an interview with Anne McGuire this week at www.sfbg.com/blogs/pixel_vision.

Innervisions

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› a&eletters@sfbg.com

Rome wasn’t built in a day, but cinema’s eternal enfant terrible Jean-Luc Godard did direct Contempt, Band of Outsiders, Alphaville, Pierrot le Fou, Masculine-Feminine, Two or Three Things I Know about Her, and Weekend (and a few others too) in the four years leading up to the political explosions of 1968. These trenchant, tenacious films are as good a record as any we have of an era when light-speed changes in culture and politics only seemed to make history grind to a halt. Each represents a blast of here-and-now consciousness.

Given the feverish tenor of this output, the relative quietude of 1967’s Two or Three Things I Know about Her (playing at the Castro Theatre in a striking new 35mm print from Rialto Pictures) comes as something of a surprise 40 years on. Sandwiched between the hyperventiutf8g back-and-forth of Masculine-Feminine and Weekend ‘s apocalyptic moan, the film is the eye of the storm of Godard’s ’60s, that crucial moment between impact and explosion. The director supposedly got the idea for Two or Three Things from reading a news piece on the phenomenon of middle-class Parisian women working as prostitutes to pay for their bourgeois accoutrement. This loaded role comes to life in Juliette, introduced to us twice, via a typically Brechtian flourish, as both character and actress (Marina Vlady).

Her life’s arrangement is not a story so much as a situation for Godard, and correspondingly, the film isn’t a narrative but rather a study. The Summer of Love notwithstanding, Two or Three Things isn’t concerned with Juliette’s sexuality (any sensuousness is incidental to Raoul Coutard’s color-mad cinematography) or psychology (something that Godard never has much use for, especially when it comes to his female characters); a poster for Kenji Mizoguchi’s Ugetsu is the only evidence of female suffering here. For Godard, prostitution is simply an apt metaphor for the dreary life of the new, amorphous Paris to which the "her" of the title refers: the Paris of the outer rings, then being settled by a disassociated middle class and recently set ablaze by more indignant communities.

So then, will the real belle du jour please stand up? It’s Juliette who tends to occupy the frame, sleepwalking through boutiques and barren apartment spaces (like Woody Allen’s, Godard’s film style often seems a matter of real estate), but Two or Three Things‘ most intimate presence isn’t visualized at all. Throughout the film Godard himself interrupts with a whispered, reflective voice-over: an existential director’s commentary track 30 years before DVD technology made this kind of authorial expressivity standard-issue.

No one Godard film is any more "Godard" than another, though Two or Three Things does feel unusually direct in its peripatetic meditations. Conversations, when they occur, are still tête-à-tête volleys (talk never flows with Godard), but more often than not it seems the characters are simply verbalizing their own reveries on life in the pseudocity. The maestro reserves the most powerfully searching musings for his own voice: in particular, the famous "clouds in my coffee" sequence, in which he parses the irresolvable tension between "crushing" objectivity and "isoutf8g" subjectivity amid extreme, lyrical close-ups of a coffee’s swirl, bubbles bursting and shades swallowed by the closeness of his voice.

As with most things Godard, there are multiple meanings to this series of shots, which simultaneously emphasize existential dread and a remarkable capacity for abstraction. It’s direct contact with an imagination on fire, reveling in the difference between thought and expression. Of course, a film built entirely on asides — in addition to Godard’s and Juliette’s reflections, we get many landscapes surveying Paris under construction and the usual café dialogues — is as likely to be a soporific as a revelation; reverie and sleepiness are frequent bedfellows in the movie theater and never more so than here. Certainly, Two or Three Things lacks the pop frisson of Masculine-Feminine or Weekend, but it’s also, in many ways, a more palatable work — not least of all for a toning down of the toxic sexism that mars Godard’s best, angriest work.

Two or Three Things will always be thought of as a stepping stone, though the film’s beauty lies in its singularity. In another, less famous but no less profound voice-over sequence, Godard contemplates the nature of his representations of reality ("Should I have talked about Juliette or the leaves?") while Juliette has her car washed. As the car (lollipop red, of course) shuttles from station to station, so too does Godard’s mind lurch from idea to idea before settling on an underlying truth: the necessity for an indefatigable "passion for expression." The world can be anything he wishes to make it. It’s a beautiful, surprisingly hopeful idea, and for a moment all that followed Two or Three Things slips away, leaving us only this unwieldy, pregnant now. *

TWO OR THREE THINGS I KNOW ABOUT HER

March 30–April 5

Mon.–Wed. and Fri.–Sun., 7 and 9 p.m. (also Wed. and Sat.–Sun., 1, 3, and 5 p.m.), $6–$9

Castro Theatre

429 Castro, SF

(415) 621-6120

www.castrotheatre.com

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Sleazy like Sunday morning

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The collective teeth of umpteen fanboys and fangirls commenced grinding when it was announced that the release of the Quentin Tarantino–Robert Rodriguez nuevo-schlock faux double bill Grindhouse would be preceded by rare 35mm revival screenings of actual ’60s through ’80s sleazebag hits such as Fight for Your Life and They Call Me One-Eye. A wonderful and laudable thing, of course — at least if you live within driving reach of Los Angeles’s New Beverly Cinema.

Well, if you can’t join ’em, beat ’em. By fortunate coincidence, San Francisco is getting something similar, which will play nowhere else — so nyaah-nyaah. That thing would be "A Month of Sleazy Sundays," four unholy nights of vintage exploitation gems beginning this April Fools’ Day at the Mission District’s lovable Victoria Theatre, brought to you by Another Hole in the Head and SF Indiefest’s Bruce Fletcher, among others.

The April quartet of triple bills offers a panoply of delights, like those shown at drive-ins, urban flea pits, and semirespectable joints such as San Francisco’s late Strand Theatre before it went porn and then closed entirely. These films were made for audiences, not for the private snickering of home viewers. Dark Channel’s rare 35mm prints are unlikely to be mint — but then, pink-out and scratchiness now seem integral to this kind of vintage theatrical experience.

The kickoff program spotlights English-language outer spaciness as only the Italians can deliver. Two entries are shameless Star Wars knockoffs from 1978: Alfonso Brescia’s War of the Robots and Luigi Cozzi’s Star Crash. The former stars Antonio Sabato Sr. (mmm). The latter stars Marjoe Gortner (Jesus with more eyeliner), Caroline Munro (in leather bikini and thigh-high boots), and a pre-Baywatch David Hasselhoff. It also sports the stupidest action scenes ever. Sandwiched between these cheese baths is Mario Bava’s genuinely eerie Planet of the Vampires, the 1965 sci-fi-horror hybrid that purportedly inspired Alien.

Highlights abound within the three remaining Sundays. April 8 brings 1970’s psychedelic séance- and H.P. Lovecraft–drawn tab o’ satanism The Dunwich Horror, in which an exquisitely perverse Dean Stockwell drafts grad student Sandra Dee (!) for sacrifice. It’s followed by the next year’s really hairy biker saga Werewolves on Wheels. A creature feature melee April 15 features Larry Hagman’s first and last directorial effort, 1972’s Beware! The Blob, a.k.a. Son of Blob, the sequel no one was waiting for — until, perhaps, it was rereleased a decade later as "The movie that J.R. shot!" Finally, a grindhouse odyssey April 21 travels from the 1934 adults-only Phyllis Diller campsterpiece Maniac to the 1971 Southern moonshine-circuit classic Preacherman to, finally, the politically incorrect yet dy-no-mite 1975 blaxploitation whopper The Black Gestapo. (Dennis Harvey)

A MONTH OF SLEAZY SUNDAYS

Through April 22; single feature $8, double $15, and triple $20

Victoria Theatre

2961 16th St., SF

(415) 863-7576

www.deadchannels.com

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Spam reconsidered

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› paulr@sfbg.com

We can’t quite say that spam has become a blight, since it was widely unloved (except for the Monty Python bit) even before the word’s great shift in meaning. Everyone hates the new spam — except, I suppose, the spammers themselves, forever importuning the e-mail world on behalf of the mysterious Fifth Third Bank — but the old spam had a good deal to say, much of it unpretty, about America. For those of us who grew up in the 1960s, Spam was the rectangle of salty chopped pork that came in a blue tin (with the little pin you turned to roll open the top, like a can of sardines) and was the basis of many an improvised or emergency meal. Spam (supposedly a truncation of "spiced ham") served early on as military food, sustenance for World War II soldiers at the front; later it made a curious marriage with the pineapple and became a mainstay of prememorable, and perhaps preedible, Hawaiian cuisine. Hawaii was and remains basically a huge military base, and Spam’s high visibility there can’t be coincidental.

I found some tabs of Spam recently, floating in a large bowl of saimin served to me at Eva’s Hawaiian Cafe, and under their saline spell I took a brief waltz through the portals of memory. Spam is ridiculous — ridiculous word, ridiculous product, a kind of pork surimi, processed beyond recognition — but I had not objected to it as a child. It came out of a can, like Campbell’s soups, and I liked Campbell’s soups. It was salty the way candy bars were sweet — excessively, deliriously so. But I gave up candy bars years ago, and I can’t remember the last time I even saw a can of Spam, let alone let a bit of the stuff actually pass my lips, until the fateful moment at Eva’s.

The saimin ($4.95), interestingly, was not only not ruined by the Spam but gently enhanced by it. Deployed sparingly, the Spam chunks turned out to be useful as a salt condiment, like soy sauce with a meaty texture. They played well against the smokiness of the barbecued chicken flaps and the mildness of the submerged mop head of noodles at large elsewhere in the big bowl, and their presence meant that the quite intense chicken broth could be undersalted without losing punch. Also: even today, nothing says "Hawaii" quite like Spam, unless it’s Spam with pineapple, maybe on a pizza, though not in a bowl of saimin.

Eva’s Hawaiian Café belongs to a chain (as I learned ex post facto from reading the fine print on a takeout menu) — in fact a rather large chain — but other than that, I couldn’t find anything wrong with it, except that the chili mayo ($3.25), served with French fries, was too sweet and not hot enough. We requested an emergency supply of ketchup, and this prayer was quickly answered, just as most others were anticipated: more water and napkins, plates quickly cleared, dishes brought promptly and in a pleasing sequence. And all this in a semicafeteria service! I can think of quite a few full-service places charging twice as much or more that don’t manage anything near this level of cheerful attentiveness or serve better food. Meanwhile, there always seems to be at least one staffer moving around the bright red, yellow, and blue dining room on a mission to clean; the perfect scorecard posted in the front window from a recent inspection by the health department did not come as a surprise to us.

Considering the coffee shop modesty of the place (people sit at tables reading newspapers, perhaps this very newspaper), the food is fresh, tasty, nuanced, and inexpensive. The basic model is the Hawaiian lunch plate: a big platter of something (often a sandwich), accompanied by some combination of fries, rice, and macaroni salad. Since this is California, the salad state, you can get a green salad instead of the macaroni if you prefer.

The mahi mahi sandwich ($5.25) didn’t rise much above the level of ordinary and echoed of McFish. For a batter-fried item, the shrimp ($8.95) are better; they’re butterflied, which means they cook more quickly and retain more of their basic character. Better yet: the kalbi short ribs ($7.95), marinated and grilled, juicy and tender, from which we discreetly gnawed the last of the meat from the bones.

It’s the small plates, the pupu starters, that give the most delight. Redondo Portuguese sausage musubi ($2.25) is like a piece of nori-wrapped sushi, except the treasure wrapped inside is a brick of garlic-chile sausage instead of fish. Fresh ahi poke ($5.25) — cubes of ruby red tuna tossed with soy, sesame seeds, and cayenne — offers immaculately fresh fish and enough chile heat to awaken the somnolent, while lumpia ($3.25), the Philippine treats that are something like a cross between pot stickers and flautas, have an almost phyllolike delicacy. Best of all might be the Portuguese bean soup ($4.25 for a gargantuan bowl, so not really a pupu), a jumble of kidney and white beans and macaroni tubes in a thick, spicy tomato broth scented with okra. It’s like a vegetarian gumbo.

Eva’s isn’t luxurious or even especially pretty — the primary colors have a kindergarten brightness — but the whole experience of being there is so agreeable that we are reminded how much the simplest human touches count. The service staff are cheerful and knowledgeable, and they work to keep their restaurant tidy; all this counts for a lot and proves that true hospitality need not involve charging patrons exorbitant amounts of money. If you can’t get to Hawaii, bundle up and come here instead. *

EVA’S HAWAIIAN CAFE

Continuous service: Mon.–Thurs. and Sun., 11 a.m.–9 p.m.; Fri.–Sat., 11 a.m.–10 p.m.

731 Clement, SF

(415) 221-2087

No alcohol

MC/V

Slightly noisy

Wheelchair accessible

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Taking the heat

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› le_chicken_farmer@yahoo.com

CHEAP EATS Sockywonk lost her mouth on account of the chemo. We were sitting around wondering about lunch, which is one of my three favorite things to wonder about, and she said (and I quote): "I wonder if I have my mouth back."

I looked up from my prayer book, or food journal, and asked, "Excuse me?"

"I wonder if I can handle the salsa at Papalote," she said. She’s been off the sauce for a couple months and off chemo now for maybe one month. Her head’s starting to get fuzzy, but she hadn’t yet tested her capacity for spicy hot — which used to be considerable. For a while even black pepper was fucking with her, mouthwise.

Weird, huh?

Well, a lot of things are weird. Golf … and I’ll never understand why San Francisco lets churchgoers park in the middle of the street on Sundays. Excuse me? Separation of church and state?

My bright orange skirt was perfectly color-coordinated with my flower-print shirt, which screamed every color of the rainbow and then some. It was sunny and warm and lunchtime in Noe Valley. Sockywonk looked about as badass and beautiful as ever, with her old-man-style Florida-style straw hat, bald head, blue jeans, watch chain …

"That’s a man," some guy said to some other guys sitting at a sidewalk table on 24th Street. Not only did he not try to conceal his voice, he seemed to say it louder than normal. Sockywonk pretended not to hear, poor thing, but she had to, unless chemo took her ears too.

Now, I was never one for chivalry, not even as a dude, but it occurs to me retrospectively that this was perfect weather for new leaves. Spring!

I’m so lucky to have this wavy-world restaurant column in which to do everything over again. Instead of just keeping walking, I grabbed on to my dear girlfriend’s elbow, turned her to face the speaker, and corrected him: "She’s not a man," I said. "Look. Tits!"

And there isn’t a shade of a dot of a doubt in my mangled mind that the Wonk would have lifted her shirt — had this actually happened — and showed them. And his friends would have hooted and high-fived us, and the guy would have felt like an idiot, and Socky’s dog, Barkywonk, would have sniffed his pant leg and pissed on it, assuring him that he was, in fact, an idiot.

You don’t make fun of sick people, everybody knows. And, for the record, Sockywonk has long, pretty, and very girly hair when she doesn’t have cancer.

The question was, did she have her mouth back?

She did!

The test was that zip-zooey orange salsa they have at Papalote, made with roasted tomatoes and pumpkin seeds. It’s ridiculously good, and nice and spicy, and Papalote is my new favorite taquería on the strength of this salsa alone. But everything else was great too.

The chips were fresh, warm, free …

We got a fish taco and a shrimp taco that time, and then a couple days later, when we had to go back on account of bad days, we got a Soyrizo burrito and a carne asada burrito. I’ll let you guess who ordered which.

Chorizo is probably my least favorite kind of sausage in this wide world of wonderful sausages. Soyrizo … well, Sockywonk swears by it, that’s all I’ll say.

And they don’t have carnitas, which is strange and tragic, but the carne asada was great, and the tortilla was griddled, not steamed. And the salsa is addictive. You can buy a jar of it for six bucks, I think, and five bucks the next time if you bring back the jar. Sockywonk used to do this before chemo took her mouth. Even though she lives a short walk from 24th and Valencia. Because you never know when you’re going to wake up in the middle of the night needing a little heat.

Speaking of which, we both had unreasonable plans of getting lucky later, since it was St. Patrick’s Day and all the boys in the world and a lot of lesbians would be drunk. She went to a show; I went to Oakland. I was supposed to meet some friends at opening night of the new lesbian bar Velvet. Oakland’s first? That’s what my friends said. I didn’t believe it, until I saw the two block–long line waiting to get in.

And just kept driving. *

PAPALOTE MEXICAN GRILL

Mon.–Sat., 11 a.m.–10 p.m.; Sun., 11 a.m.–9 p.m.

3409 24th St., SF

(415) 970-8815

Takeout available

Beer

Credit cards not accepted

Bustling

Wheelchair accessible

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Superlist! Our annual guide to everything

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Every year, we compile lists of interesting arcana, both frivolous and useful, to guide you through life in the Bay. Enjoy!

Super Index: The Bay Area by the numbers


Superlist No. 823: Antique SF bars

Superlist No. 824: DIY dog washes

Superlist No. 825: Restaurants with DJs

Superlist No. 826: Alcohol rehab

Superlist No. 827: Disc golf courses

Superlist No. 828: MMA fight clubs


Superlist No. 829: Safe houses

Superlist No. 830: Empower lunches

Superlist No. 831: Box office steals

Superlist No. 831: Box office steals

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› superlists@sfbg.com

Bertolt Brecht wanted theater to be for the people, not the power. In order for that to happen, tickets need to be cheap. Luckily, many local venues are committed to fulfilling Brecht’s directive, at least in terms of money, by ensuring that their shows are accessible to people of all income levels. With these shows costing less than the latest soulless CGI flick you just saw, what’s stopping you from spending the night at the theater?

Even though they call the new and soon to be solar-powered Ashby Stage (1901 Ashby, Berk. 510-841-6500, www.shotgunplayers.org) home, the Shotgun Players haven’t forgotten their humble roots in the basement of a pizza parlor. They make their innovatively staged plays accessible to folks on a pizza budget by holding a pay-what-you-can first week for every production.

Theater company Central Works stages all of its collaboratively written, developed, and produced plays in a dining room of the Berkeley City Club (2315 Durant, Berk. 510-558-1381, www.centralworks.org). You’ve never seen drama this close, and rarely so inexpensive: tickets are on a sliding scale and start at $9.

All shows are pay what you can at CounterPULSE (1310 Mission, SF. 415-626-2060, www.counterpulse.org), which presents theater, dance, music, and interdisciplinary performances — all with a political and cultural edge.

The African-American Shakespeare Company (African American Art and Culture Complex, Buriel Clay Memorial Theater, 762 Fulton, SF. 415-762-2071, ext. 1) brings an African American perspective to classical works by such playwrights as William Shakespeare, Anton Chekhov, and Aristophanes. All preview performances cost $5.

Strange things happen on the tiny stage of the Dark Room (2263 Mission, SF. 415-675-9963, www.darkroomsf.com) and at a very reasonable price. Pay $5 to watch performers compete for the honor of being named the worst act in the city (and claiming the title of Miss American Fido) on the last Thursday of the month or heckle the screen during Monday’s Bad Movie Night — which is sort of like Mystery Science Theater 3000, only live.

Established in 1965 specifically to find creative ways of addressing the Vietnam War, Intersection for the Arts (446 Valencia, SF. 415-626-2787, www.theintersection.org) is the oldest nonprofit arts space in San Francisco. Its resident theater company, Campo Santo, performs and helps create challenging plays by local playwrights and nationally known authors such as Denis Johnson. Every Thursday is pay what you can at this community theater and gallery.

The Julia Morgan Center for the Arts (2640 College, Berk. 510-845-8542, www.juliamorgan.org) is the latest Bay Area venue to provide a stage for storytellers and solo performers. Its “Tell it on Tuesdays” series (the last Tuesday of every month) costs as little as $8, and it has seen performers such as Jeff Greenwald and Ron Jones spin a good yarn.

The clever people at Last Planet Theatre (351 Turk, SF. 415-440-3505, www.lastplanettheatre.com) have devised the best way to bring the cost of your theatergoing experience below silver-screen prices: pay two for one on Thursdays. Bring a date and check out the avant-garde experience this nine-year-old company — which has staged works by Harold Pinter, Caryl Churchill, and Rainer Werner Fassbinder — has to offer.

Impact Theatre picks up where Shotgun left off, at La Val’s Subterranean (1834 Euclid, Berk. www.impacttheatre.com), the basement of a pizza parlor. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Impact produces some of the hippest, edgiest new plays around and lets you watch them for whatever you want, so long as seats are still available a half hour before the show starts.

Over at Sam Shepard’s old stomping ground, the Magic Theatre (Fort Mason Center, bldg. D, third floor, Marina at Laguna, SF. 415-441-8822, www.magictheatre.org) continues to bring fresh work and plenty of world premieres to audiences. The 40-year-old space has a sliding-scale ticket price on Wednesdays that dips down to $5, and it also holds a minimum of 10 last-minute tickets for $10, available 30 minutes before curtain.

You never know what’s going to sprout up at Monday Night Marsh, held at the Marsh (1062 Valencia, SF. 415-826-5750, www.themarsh.org) for just $7. The curated almost-weekly event puts performers, improv artists, storytellers, musicians, clowns, and any combination thereof in its black box. The only rule is no fire in the house.

Home to Footloose, which incubates primarily women’s work, Shotwell Studios (Shotwell Studios, 3252A 19th St., SF. 415-920-2223, www.ftloose.org) is the place to see contemporary dance and the occasional comedy night, and every show is pay what you can.

Keep your fingers crossed that shows at Z Space Studio (131 10th St., third floor, SF. 415-626-0453, www.zspace.org) don’t sell out. The venue, which also helps performing artists and playwrights bring their ideas to fruition and then sends them off on tour, offers pay-what-you-can rush tickets on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday nights. Call first to make sure the deal applies to the show you want to see. *

 

Super Index: The Bay Area by the numbers

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Total acreage of San Francisco: 30,080

Estimated number of people in San Francisco: 739,426

Ratio of dogs to children in the city, give or take 10,000 kids: 1:1

Ratio of acres for off-leash dog play to those of children’s playgrounds: 7:1

Approximate percentage of San Francisco Department of Recreation and Park land considered natural areas: 25

Number of acres managed by Rec and Park versus number of acres of parking space (on and off the streets) managed by the city: 3,480:1,291

Number of cars in San Francisco, as represented by the number of registered automobiles in 2005: 373,115

Total number of city-managed parking spaces: 334,625

Number of temporary art parks created in empty parking spaces during 2005 for PARK(ing) Day: 18

Month in which the next PARK(ing) Day event will take place: September

Ratio of the size of a city parking space for a compact car to the Dark Room SF stage: 1:1

Estimated number of homeless people in San Francisco versus total number of shelter beds: 6,248:1,514

Estimated number of shelter beds that go empty every night: 100

Decline in the number of homeless people in the city, based on 2003 and 2005 volunteer city-run counts: 2,392

Areas not included in the volunteer counts: the beach, the Presidio, railroad encampments, Golden Gate Park, Stern Grove, and the Sunset District

Projected release date of the numbers from the 2007 homelessness count: March 30

Number of public garbage cans unbolted and stolen from Oakland sidewalks in the past year: 75

Cost of each can: $1,500

Number of feet of freeway guardrail stolen in the Bay Area in the past year: 32,000

Total cost to replace the aluminum: $86,000

Number of bars in San Francisco versus number of independent bookstores selling new books: 2,870:33

Rank of San Francisco among cities for most bookstores per 10,000 people: 1

Rank of the city by the bay for most drunk metropolitan area: 20 (tied with Oakland)

Rank for most literate, in comparison with New York City: 10 versus 49

The index was compiled by Chris Albon, Angela J. Bass, Deborah Giattina, Christopher Jasmin, and Elaine Santore. For sources, see www.sfbg.com.

Super List Index Sources:

(1) and (2) US Census Bureau

(3) Dog Advisory Committee of the San Francisco Recreation and Park Department and US Census Bureau

(4) and (5) San Francisco Recreation and Park Department

(6) San Francisco Recreation and Park Department and San Francisco Municipal Transportation Authority

(7) California Department of Motor Vehicles

(8) San Francisco Municipal Transportation Authority

(9) and (10) The REBAR Group, www.rebargroup.org

(11) San Francisco Municipal Transportation Authority and Dark Room Theater

(12)–(14) and (16) San Francisco Department of Human Services

(15) "Green and Red Apples: The 2,392 Disappeared Homeless in San Francisco," by Matt Gonzalez, San Francisco Bay View, 2/23/05

(17) and (18) "Oakland Trash-Can Bandits Nab 75th ‘Fancy Trash Can’," by Momo Chang, Oakland Tribune, 8/9/06

(19) and (20) California Department of Transportation

(21) California Alcohol Beverage Control

(22)–(24) University of Wisconsin, Whitewater, Marketing and Media Department

(23) "America’s Drunkest Cities," by David M. Ewalt, Forbes, 8/22/06

Superlist No. 826: Alcohol rehab

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Drinking is a fun, legal, and socially acceptable form of recreation … until things get ugly. For some people, rehab serves as an alibi for all the embarrassing and damaging mistakes they made while loaded. But many, for whatever reason, really are caught in the grip of a life-threatening addiction and feel like there’s no way out. Being broke — whether you’re homeless and panhandling or working part-time in a café and barely making the rent — certainly doesn’t make getting sober easier. It’s not like you can just dial Mimi Silbert at the Delancey Street Foundation or check into the Betty Ford Center, chill with Paris Hilton and Britney Spears for 28 days, and then pay the clinic 20 grand on your way out. It takes persistence to find low-cost recovery programs, but you can locate the help you need in San Francisco.

True, the bureaucracy is vast and probably intimidating for someone who is facing the shaking, the anxiety, and the possible seizures and pink elephant sightings that come with detoxification. Your next step, after admitting your problem, should be to call Ozanam Detox (1175 Howard, SF. 415-864-3057, www.svdp-sf.org/ozanam.htm), which operates several four- to 72-hour detox centers and only requests a $10 donation. If you don’t need immediate care, call the Treatment Access Program of San Francisco (1-800-750-2727). It can help you find your way to a subsidized, low-cost residential program treating people with alcohol dependency. Most programs are free to those on welfare and less than $600 for those who aren’t. Participants get three meals a day and lots of counseling.

The Asian American Residential Recovery Center (2024 Hayes, SF. 415-541-9404, www.aars-inc.org) has 24 beds for its six-month to one-year program, and the cost is negotiable.

Baker Places (600 Townsend, suite 200E, SF. 415-864-1515, www.bakerplaces.org) has 90 beds for its 60-day program. It also offers a separate 21-day medical detox program that accommodates 28 people.

The extensive and free program for rehabilitation at the Delancey Street Foundation (600 Embarcadero, SF. 415-957-9800, www.eisenhowerfoundation.org) lasts about two years and includes job training and education. The facility usually only accepts applicants who can’t find help anywhere else, such as those who have been in jail or have a history of violence.

Freedom from Alcohol and Drugs (1362 and 1366 48th Ave., SF. 415-665-8077) has 40 beds for men and currently has a couple vacancies. The six-month program ranges from free to $500. You must be clean for three days before entering.

Friendship House Association of American Indians (56 Julian, SF. 415-865-0964, www.friendshiphousesf.org) has 80 beds for men and women and a program specifically for women with children.

Run by Community Awareness and Treatment Services (CATS), Golden Gate for Seniors (637 S. Van Ness, SF. 415-626-7553, www.careforhomeless.org/services/ggate.html) has 16 beds for men and four beds for women. There may be a waiting list, and you must be clean for three days, but no one is turned away due to lack of funds. Its facilities are not wheelchair accessible.

The Good Shepherd Gracenter (1310 Bacon, SF. 415-337-1938, www.gsgracenter.org) has a six-month program for women. Currently, there isn’t a waiting list to occupy one of its 13 beds.

The Haight Ashbury Free Clinic Drop-in Center (211 13th St., SF. 415-746-1915, www.hafci.org) is open 24 hours and can find you immediate help. The clinic also operates three residential centers, which can accommodate more than 50 people together. No one is turned away due to lack of funds.

Jelani (1601 Quesada, SF. 415-822-5977, www.jelanisf.org) specializes in family care. It has 40 beds for adults and 46 for children, and you don’t have to detox someplace else first. The program lasts six to nine months, and there’s currently no waiting list.

Of the nine locations the Latino Commission (301 Grant, suite 301, South SF. 650-244-1444) runs, two are in San Francisco. There is usually a waiting list, and the program can last anywhere from three months to a year.

Also run by CATS, the McMillan Drop-in Center (39 Fell, SF. 415-241-1180) is open 24 hours and can find you immediate care at many facilities.

The Salvation Army’s Harbor Light Center (1275 Harrison, SF. 415-503-3000, www.tsagoldenstate.org) has 21 beds for women, 40 beds for men, and another 18 beds just for veterans. Programs range from one to two years; the cost is free to less than $600. The waiting period is usually about three weeks.

The Walden House (1885 Mission, SF. 415-554-1131, www.waldenhouse.org) has 220 beds. The cost ranges from free to $73 per day. The program’s average length is 94 days but can go up to a year. It currently has a two-month waiting list. *

Superlist No. 823: Antique SF bars

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San Francisco was crazy during the ’60s — the 1860s, that is. Back then the city’s beer halls and saloons were fueled by the gold-lined pockets and salty tongues of sailors, pimps, con artists, and whores. The city is actually pretty tame compared with how it used to be. Prostitutes no longer hang naked from windows, and bartenders have stopped drugging clients and selling them into indentured servitude on the high seas. About all that’s left from those early dens of debauchery are a few brass rails and some nice pieces of carved mahogany, to be found in the city’s oldest bars. Although many of the original bars at these establishments perished in fires, as soon as the ashes settled, people picked up the pieces and got right back to boozin’. The Saloon, Buena Vista, and Little Shamrock are your best bets for wetting your whistle above the same wooden counters where gold miners and shanghaiing sailors once drank.

The Buena Vista (2765 Hyde, SF. 415-474-5044, www.thebuenavista.com), which concocted the first Irish coffee, rates as San Francisco’s second oldest bar. An 1889 photo of the business shows its former location, across the street. When that building was damaged by the 1906 earthquake and fire, the café moved to its present spot, taking its rich mahogany bar with it.

Proud to have been a speakeasy during prohibition, Cafe du Nord (2170 Market, SF. 415-861-5016, www.cafedunord.com) — which opened its doors in 1907, before hooch was outlawed — retains its scary escape tunnel, now dead-ended, and has the nicest original, hand-carved bar you’ll find in any Bay Area basement.

A local historian from E Clampus Vitus, a secret SF historical society, scoured old city directories and traced boozing on the corner of 16th and Guerrero streets, where Elixir (3200 16th St., SF. 415-552-1633, www.elixirsf.com) currently hangs its sign, back to 1858. The place has gone through a number of hands — it was called Swede’s from 1865 to 1885 — and was leveled with the rest of the hood in the fire of ’06, but it’s always been a bar. Of course, during Prohibition it was officially know as a soft drink parlor.

The Hotel Utah (500 Fourth St., SF. 415-546-6300, www.thehotelutahsaloon.com) — which was once called Al’s Transbay Tavern, appeared in Dirty Hairy, and served President Richard Nixon, Joe DiMaggio, and Marilyn Monroe — has been a bar since 1908. Its back bar, obtained through a Fitchburg Brewery promotion, was shipped around Cape Horn in 1913 from Belgium and is thought to date back to the 1850s.

The wood booths and paneled ceiling at House of Shields (39 New Montgomery, SF. 415-975-8651, www.houseofshields.com) have been there since 1908, when the watering hole first opened for business. A tunnel, left over from Prohibition, connects the place to Maxfield’s. And the men’s room has a urinal roughly the size of a refrigerator — they don’t seem to make ’em that big anymore.

Last year the Little Shamrock (807 Lincoln Way, SF. 415-661-0060), an Inner Sunset bar established in 1893, put up a sign reading, "We’ve been here for 113 years and our prices prove it!" It’s true: a shot of Jameson goes for just four bucks at the cozy tavern. Its Victorian-era atmosphere, with broken velvet-upholstered parlor chairs and a potbellied stove in the dart room, will take you back in time.

Maxfield’s (Palace Hotel, 2 New Montgomery, SF. 415-512-1111, www.maxfields-restaurant.com) is named for Maxwell Parrish, the artist of the vibrant realist depiction of a man and his flute hanging above the back of the bar since 1909. Back in 1875 it was called the Pied Piper, and in 1906 it was gutted by the fire, along with the rest of the Palace Hotel. The owners turned it into an ice cream parlor during Prohibition — one with a gentlemen’s-only club in the back.

Turns out people have been drinking for 158 years at the corner of Pacific and Battery, where the Old Ship Saloon (298 Pacific, SF. 415-788-2222, www.oldshipsaloon.com) now stands. The plaque posted there by E Clampus Vitus tells you so. As the story goes, in 1849 the ship Arkansas crash-landed on Alcatraz Island. (UC Berkeley has a journal from one of the passengers.) The ship was towed to the shore of Yerba Buena Cove and, as the bay filled in, became landlocked on what became Pacific Street. In 1851, Joe Anthony, a Brit, cut a hole in the ship and posted a sign reading, "Gud, Bad and Indif’rent Spirits Sold Here! At 25 cents Each!" The ship was dismantled as a brick building was constructed around it. That burned down and was rebuilt in 1906. The east side of the building still proclaims the name of the business and its owner from that time: "Old Ship Saloon, Henry Klee Prop."

Everyone seems to agree that the stinky dive know as the Saloon (1232 Grant, SF. 415-989-7666, www.sfblues.net/Saloon.html) holds San Francisco’s oldest bar. The place also boasts the city’s first water-installation request on record — dated Oct. 8, 1861, made by Ferdinand E. Wagner, and fulfilled by the Spring Valley Water Co. In the 1850s, Wagner ran a fruit stand in the building, selling German toys and Christmas ornaments on the side. In 1861 he turned the shop into Wagner’s Beer Hall. Strong timbers and the volunteer firefighters who went out of their way to protect the scarlet women living upstairs saved the building from the 1906 earthquake and fire.

With its ornate bar dating back 100 years, belt-driven ceiling fans, and tiled floor, the San Francisco Brewing Co. (155 Columbus, SF. 415-434-3344, www.sfbrewing.com) is the salooniest spot around. Drinks first flowed over the bar in 1907, when the place was known as the Andromeda Saloon, according to a member of E Clampus Vitus.

The dinky alley spot known as Spec’s 12 Adler Museum (12 Saroyan Place, SF. 415-421-4112) first became a bar in 1919, but it’s been in operation on and off since then. The current owner has filled the place to the gills with historical memorabilia — well, junk — to immerse you in the city’s past.

Established just before the Volstead Act in 1919, Tosca Cafe (242 Columbus, SF. 415-986-9651) moved to its current location in 1946. During Prohibition it operated as a restaurant, but the owners continued cooking brandy in the basement, which they served on the sly to customers as the — wink, wink — house cappuccino. You can still order it by that name today. *

Superlist No. 830: Empower lunches

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With the fast-paced hustle and bustle of the Financial District’s lunch hour and the high cost of eating responsibly, it’s difficult to find an MSG-free meal that won’t run you the whole organic farm. Not to worry, my health-conscious, busy urban comrades: no longer must you run around like a free-range chicken to eat a reasonably priced and responsible lunch. You’re about to get the skinny on where to find a healthy and organic lunch downtown … cheap. Don’t say we never taught you anything.

The Boxed Foods Co. (245 Kearny, SF. 415-981-9376, www.boxedfoodscompany.com) is a great place to relive the packed-lunch experience made famous by moms all over the United States — only this lunch does not include Oscar Mayer mystery meat, the chemical engineering miracle known as Kraft Singles, or that pasty Wonder Bread. Inside the small emerald interior, a smiling staff packs its boxes with the nutritional righteousness of prosciutto, asparagus, and parmesan panini and red and golden beet salads. Get your box to go, or relax in the back patio under cute blue umbrellas.

At Harvest and Rowe (55 Second St., SF. 415-551-7771, www.harvestandrowe.com), you can stop by on a cold, blustery afternoon and warm yourself up with some ever-changing and ever-healthy artisanal stews and soups, such as basil chicken chili and yellow split pea. You can even start your day with an organic breakfast in the form of fresh fair-trade coffee. Extend your shrinking lunch hour by grabbing a quick and wholesome snack or a custom-built salad, or order pick-up food online.

The ceilings are high, the cost is low, and the menu is extensive at Sellers Markets (595 Market, SF. 415-227-9850, www.sellersmarkets.com). Committed to buying from local artisanal farmers with pledges to sustainable agriculture, this refectory isn’t happy just feeding its guests healthy food — it also educates its patrons about environmentally responsible dining. Jim and Deb Sellers hold the quarterly Sustainable Social, at which experts from culinary, art, environment, and design backgrounds speak about a range of taste, ecological, health, and agricultural issues.

Mixt Greens (120 Sansome, SF. 415-433-MIXT, www.mixtgreens.com) may be known for its amazing "eco-gourmet" menu, but what really set this place apart are its continual efforts toward reusable energy. Not only is the design-your-own-salad menu extensive and the filet mignon cheesesteak organic, but these fortifying meals come packaged in recycled materials made from a corn-based plastic, not petroleum products. What makes this the most guilt-free meal in town is the building and furniture, all made with sustainable, nontoxic materials. *

Superlist No. 827: Disc golf courses

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While golf has traditionally provided an escape for wealthy elitist types, people in our progressive city may find that land alteration, plant destruction, constant mowing, and excessive watering spoil the purpose of being out in nature. But disc golf, played much the same as traditional golf, successfully coexists with other park uses and doesn’t require intensive landscaping. Perhaps because California is the birth state of disc golf, plenty of free courses dot the Bay Area. All of these use metal target baskets and also have free parking (except at Stafford Lake, where it costs $3 to $8). So grab your long-range, overstable driver and extradistance putt discs, and hit these local fairways. But remember: if you’re a beginner wanting to be taken seriously, don’t call it Frisbee golf.

The Aquatic Park Disc Golf Course (80 Bolivar Drive, Berk. 510-981-6700) at the foot of Bancroft Way is a long and flat 18-hole course that runs alongside Aquatic Park Lake. Players must work the first nine holes with the lake on the right, then turn around and toss their discs through the last nine holes over the same ground with the lake on the left. Though it’s rated an intermediate course, approach strategies on certain holes require throwing discs out over the lake and counting on a good hook to pull them back onto the green. Even seasoned veterans are likely to lose a disc (if not two or three). Short and long tees are provided on most holes. The park is open from 6 a.m. to 10 p.m., so break out those glow-in-the-dark discs for a night game.

Perfect for beginners, the Chabot Disc Golf Course (1898 Estudillo, San Leandro. 925-228-0308), situated off Interstate 580 in the Chabot Regional Park, is a short and mostly flat nine-hole course with dirt tees and fixed pin positions. Most holes are fewer than 200 feet, and the park is open from 7 a.m. to 6 p.m.

The Moraga Commons Disc Golf Course (1149 Moraga Road, Moraga. 415-420-5425) is a long and scenic nine-hole course that winds over and around a beautiful hillside. Open from dusk until dawn, the intermediate-level course has mostly dirt tees and fixed pin positions and challenges players with several long uphill and downhill holes. The brick tee on hole six provides an adequate spot to launch your 431-foot shot down the hill and across the pathway.

Lucchesi Park provides a flat and open space for the Petaluma Disc Golf Course (320 N. McDowell Blvd., Petaluma. 707-836-1170), a nine-hole beginner course that winds around a small lake. The terrain is good for those just starting out or looking for an easier practice course. Playing competitively is challenging, however, as there is no course map and some of the holes aren’t marked. Check it out between 8 a.m. and 10 p.m.

San Francisco Disc Golf Club founder Greg Quiroga promises city players a world-class 18-hole experience come March 31 with the reopening of the Golden Gate Park Disc Golf Course (Marx Meadow, Golden Gate Park, Fulton and 25th Street, SF. www.sfdiscgolf.org), which has been closed for reconstruction since December 2005. The project marks a unique collaboration between the San Francisco Recreation and Park Department and Quiroga’s group, which raised all the money for the course and donated all the labor. Tees are concrete with fixed pins.

The Stafford Lake Disc Golf Course (3549 Novato Blvd., Novato. 707-836-1170) is a huge 18-hole course for advanced players that winds up and over several steep hills, offering several alternate pin and tee positions. The first five holes are particularly long and can be discouraging for novices. Arrive early and bring water and snacks to consume while playing this scenic monster course, which is home to the Bay Area’s longest hole, stretching 1,044 feet. And don’t let your car get locked in when the lot closes at 8 p.m. (5 p.m. during winter months). *

Superlist No. 828: MMA fight clubs

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You’ve seen them on cable reality shows or pay-per-view: muscle-bound men with the temperament of abused pit bulls smashing and kicking each other into bloody pulps while the crowd roars with approval. It might be the Ultimate Fighting Championship, Pride Fighting Championship, Vale Tudo, or a host of other names given to the brutal — and increasingly popular — realm of mixed martial arts (MMA).

A combination of standard Western boxing, traditional Thai boxing known as Muay Thai, jujitsu, and other fighting techniques, MMA has only been legal in California for one year, a selling point for many local martial arts schools. Some of the competition’s brightest stars hail from Bay Area clubs. A course in MMA is a serious exercise in masochism. Could you be the next champ?

Twenty-four-year-old Gilbert Melendez, last year’s winner of the Pride FC held in Nagoya, Japan, trains exclusively at Fairtex Muay Thai Fitness (132–140 Hawthorne, SF. 1-888-324-7839, www.fairtex.com). The vast gym holds heavy bags for striking, a full-size boxing ring, ample floor space for grappling and yoga, a full range of free weights and machines, and an almost constant feed of fighting competitions on the facility’s numerous wide-screen televisions.

Eduardo Rocha Brazilian Jiu Jitsu Academy (3600 Grand, Oakl. 510-207-6640, www.cateambjj.com) trains students in grappling fundamentals, but Rocha and some of his advanced students spend a lot of time training for competition. The training atmosphere is intimate, and Rocha’s students took top honors at the 2006 Pan-American Jiu-Jitsu Championships.

Located in the Dogpatch, Universal Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (2572 Third St., SF. 415-282-5700, www.ubjj.com) offers classes in MMA on Wednesday nights.

While Ralph Gracie Jiu-Jitsu (www.ralphgracie.com) has two locations, one in Berkeley (1500 Ashby, Berk. 510-486-8000) and the other in San Francisco (178 Valencia, SF. 415-522-477), Gracie and his brothers have been opening new academies around the world every month. Gracie, himself a champion, retains black belts who trained under him to run his academies. Kurt Osiander, nicknamed the Rhino, heads the San Francisco academy; Carlos "Sapoa" Oryzune instructs at the Berkeley academy.

One of a few schools that split from Fairtex a few years ago after the 2003 shooting death of Fairtex San Francisco founder Alex Gong, Fight and Fitness (734 Bryant, SF. 415-495-2211, www.fightandfitness.com) can be found in SoMa about a block away from the Hall of Justice. Inside the small and musty gym, fighters train at all levels with instructors such as Bunkerd Faphimai, a three-time world champion in Muay Thai. A row of championship belts hangs from a 20-foot rafter.

Another Fairtex offshoot lies back across the bridge near downtown Oakland. Pacific Ring Sports (659 15th St., Oakl. 510-444-5269) offers many of the same classes as Fight and Fitness. The facility is about twice the size, however, and its boxing classes are among the most popular in the Bay Area. The room has a large weight room, a boxing ring, wrestling mats, and a bunch of punching bags. MMA classes are taught twice a week, while Muay Thai, jujitsu, and boxing remain mainstays of the curriculum.

World Team USA (2575 Ocean, SF. 415-333-3496, www.worldteamusa.com) claims to train MMA fighters, but its strong suit is Muay Thai. The MMA classes are a little more than an hour long, much shorter than at some of the other gyms, but this school offers a good base for someone who might not be looking to fight professionally — and lots of kids’ classes too.

Open Door Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (2935 Chapman, Oakl. 510-532-3803) is very close to I-880 and about a 15-minute walk from the Fruitvale BART Station. The style of jujitsu taught here is meant for total-body strangulation, so it isn’t the place to learn some mean-ass strikes. Kids can take self-defense classes here too. *

Superlist No. 824: DIY dog washes

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San Francisco dogs have it made, don’t they? Their owners coddle them with gourmet food from boutique pet stores, groomers who treat them like royalty, and the biggest spoiler of them all, our many acres of parks and beaches. But this sweet deal is not without its price. In the case of the last indulgence, this means the dirt pits, mud puddles, and pee-soaked grass your little stinker can’t resist rolling in. Bathing your dog at home can be quite a production, especially if you live in tight quarters. Fortunately, the city has a nice selection of places where you can scrub your mucky pup for a small fee, leaving you and your buddy with the soothing knowledge that you won’t have a bathtub to clean or a floor to mop afterward.

Nine years after setting up shop in Bernal Heights, owner Tony Chrisanthis has built Bernal Beast (509 Cortland, SF. 415-643-7800, www.bernalbeast.com) into a bit of a local legend. Packed wall to wall with supplies, food, and some hard-to-find supplements, this is a destination for pet lovers from around the Bay. At the back of the shop is the rather roomy washing station, where for $12 you get all-natural shampoo and conditioner, towels, driers, grooming tools, and an apron.

Conveniently located only a few blocks from the beach, Bill’s Doggie Bath-O-Mat (3928 Irving, SF. 415-661-6950) is a hit with folks taking their pup for a swim. The clean and fuss-free shop is equipped with three wash stations, available for self-service from Tuesday to Saturday. For $14 (and $10 for each additional dog) you will get all the necessary accoutrement needed to wash away the sea.

For dog lovers down in Glen Park, Critter Fritters (670 Chenery, SF. 415-239-7387) offers two dog-washing stations and two grooming tables in the spacious back room. The cost of the service is $13 — negotiable if washing multiple dogs — and includes all-natural shampoos, towels, chamois cloth, driers, grooming tools, and an apron. Tubs are equipped with "power wash" nozzles, which give quite effective, dirt-loosening blasts of water, guaranteeing a deep clean for your grubby pet.

For a bit of small-town charm here in the big city, try the Pawtrero Hill BathHouse and Feed Co. (199 Mississippi, SF. 415-882-7297, www.pawtrero.com). Designed with an old-fashioned seed store theme, using wooden produce crates to display its many tempting organic and natural wares, the shop offers a homey wash-up for your dog. The bathhouse at the back of the store is equipped with two raised tubs buttressed by ramps. For $15 you get everything you’ll need to make your mutt squeaky-clean: all-natural shampoo, towels, driers, brushes and clippers, and an apron to keep yourself dry. Save money with the buy-10-baths-get-one-free discount program.

Mercifully, the newest dog-washing addition to the city, Puppy Haven (772 Stanyan, SF. 415-751-7387), set up shop on Haight Street, where even humans need a postpromenade bath. Founded by longtime neighborhood resident Gordon Ruark — a font of knowledge with 25 years of pet store experience — the shop offers a spacious wash room equipped with two cleaning stations and will soon have a grooming station. For $10, Ruark gives you everything you need: shampoo, towels, forced-air driers, and a peaceful respite from the sometimes frantic energy lurking outside.

Cheerfully adorned with warm, playful colors and scores of houseplants, the Soggy Doggy Bath and Barktique (4033 Judah, SF. 415-664-3644), another oceanside option, is a relaxing place to take your pooch after a romp on the beach. There is one wash station with an elevated tub and a separate grooming table. For $13 you can hose away the sand with all-natural shampoo and conditioner, after-bath spritz, towels, and grooming tools. Get your ninth self-serve wash free with a "Repeat Rover Miles" card. Hours for self-serve are 3 to 7 p.m., Wednesday to Friday, and 10:30 a.m. to 6 p.m. on weekends, but call ahead anyway.

Pawtrero’s sister store, the South Paw BathHouse and Feed Co. (199 Brannan, SF. 415-882-7297, www.pawtrero.com), offers similar services and the same holistic philosophy but with a South Beach flavor, as indicated by the pastel furniture and "Beach Access" sign above the entrance to the washing quarters. Fifteen dollars gets you the same provisions as those supplied by Pawtrero, and the same discount program applies.

With a steady business of full-service dog grooming, Wags: Pet Wash and Boutique (1840 Polk, SF. 415-409-2472, www.sfwags.com) limits self-service to Sundays, but try calling ahead Tuesday to Thursday. Decked out in brightly colored shower curtains, the washing area is set up with two tubs and one combination tub-grooming station. For $20, Wags supplies you with all-natural shampoo, towels, and driers. *

Superlist No. 825: Restaurants with DJs

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It’s a fact: lousy music can spoil a dining experience. We’ve all been to the too-loud restaurant where talking over the cheap sound system quickly becomes a losing battle. And nobody goes back to the place that put the Lionel Ritchie Millennium Collection on loop, or the hole-in-the-wall with the wonderfully authentic foreign food and the borderline torturous background music. Avoid aural indigestion by trying one of the many restaurants that have gone to great lengths to ensure the ambiance is as pleasing to your ears as the food is to your taste buds. The best time to hear dinner’s new soundtrack is typically during the weekend; however, a few eateries serve DJs with midweek meals.

Big-name residents such as Tom Thump lay down the tracks at Frisson (244 Jackson, SF. 415-956-3004, www.frissonsf.com), the quintessential meals and wheels of steel restaurant. With the main dining room’s circular layout and warm colors, the new American cuisine’s premium quality, and the neosoul, jazz-infused electronic audio, Frisson has the right chemistry.

Many DJs spin into the wee hours of the morning, but Levende Lounge (1710 Mission, SF. 415-864-5585, www.levendesf.com) DJs don’t hit the decks until breakfast. Live electronic music, a self-service Bloody Mary bar, and a build-your-own Benedict menu option reinvent Sunday brunch. Levende strives to bring up-and-coming local talent as well as internationally recognized names to the table.

Residents Sabrina and Benji set the mood for the stunning, floor-to-ceiling bay view and noteworthy fusion of California and pan-Asian cuisine at Butterfly (Pier 33, Embarcadero, SF. 415-864-8999, www.butterflysf.com).

Eastside West (3154 Fillmore, SF. 415-885-4000, www.eastsidewest.com) creates a live music feel by putting resident DJ Morgan on a small stage. Its American regional menu features home-style favorites such as macaroni and cheese and buttermilk fried chicken. The mix usually includes Top 40 hits, so you may find yourself humming along between bites.

Head to North Beach’s Impala (501 Broadway, SF. 415-982-5299, www.impalasf.com), where you’ll instantly be transported south of the border. Here the tequila goes down as smooth as the tunes, which residents D-Tek and Zhaldee often infuse with a Latin flair.

If it weren’t for the flatware and delicious rolls in front of you, you’d swear Mas Sake (2030 Lombard, SF. 415-440-1505, www.massake.com) were a nightclub. Resident DJs Kimani, Solarz, Booker, and Chris Fox keep the mashups pumping all dinner long.

Lose yourself in the hypnotizing tunes, jungle decor, and flavorful Thai food at Lingba Lounge (1469 18th St., SF. 415-647-6469, www.lingba.com).

Hit up Poleng Lounge (1751 Fulton, SF. 415-441-1710, www.polenglounge.com) on a Friday or Saturday night if a little hip-hop, a dash of soul, and some Asian fusion cuisine sounds like a recipe for a good time.

DJ Adrian keeps things mellow at Mecca (2029 Market, SF. 415-621-7000, www.sfmecca.com) on Thursdays and Fridays with old-school electronica from the ’70s and ’80s.

As you might expect, Emmy’s Spaghetti Shack (18 Virginia, SF. 415-206-2086) serves pasta dishes galore, but there’s a little something extra on the menu on Fridays and Saturdays: rotating DJs who spin everything from oldies to new wave and punk — but never house music.

At Nihon (1779 Folsom, SF. 415-552-4400, www.nighonsf.com), DJ Gray spins house and lounge while diners enjoy sushi and other Japanese fare.

Sushi Groove South (1516 Folsom, SF. 415-503-1950) is another chic sushi spot where resident DJs spin nightly.

DJs Michael Anthony, B-Smiley, Didge Kelli, and Drunken Monkey make the dinner-in-bed experience at Supperclub (657 Harrison, SF. 415-348-0900, www.supperclub.com) all the more cozy by channeling chill ambient and other funky forms of electronica through the sound system.

DJs only spin in the lounge at Sutra Restaurant and Lounge (100 Brannan, SF. 415-593-5900, www.sutrasf.com), where Asian fusion and downtempo are on the platters. *

Fly, Birds of Avalon, fly

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Lots to hear this weekend – including a petite DJ set by yours truly today at 3 p.m. on KUSF. Justice, El-P, Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, Money Mark, Besnard Lakes, Swan Island – but right I’m thinking Birds of Avalon sound pretty swell.

boa.jpg

Onetime Cherry Valence-rs Cheetie Kumar and Paul Siler got married and busted up the Cherry and put together this hard-rockin’ ensemble with the Weather’s Craig Tilley. Psych, prog, Sabbath? See what I mean. Their first album, Bazaar Bazaar (Volcom), was co-produced by Mitch Easter and the combo is touring with Fucking Champs when they’re not here, playing with Total BS and Mantles at Hemlock Tavern, SF. It’s Saturday, March 24, 9:30 p.m., and 7 bucks, buckeroo.

TUESDAY

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March 27

FILM

“Cinematic San Francisco:
Amateur and Home Movie Histories”

Sometimes funny, often humiliating, and always meaningful, home movies are an important part of the family narrative — so too for the life of a city. Lucky for us, there are organizations like the nonprofit San Francisco Media Archive, whose mission is to preserve San Francisco’s celluloid autobiography. Archive director Stephen Parr is the guest speaker at this event. He’ll screen clips and discuss the role amateur and home movies play in preserving and presenting the life and times of our city. (Nathan Baker)

8 p.m., $5
Mission Dolores School
3371 16th St., SF
(415) 750-9986
www.sanfranciscohistory.com

EVENT

Richard Price

“If God created anything better than crack cocaine,” Delroy Lindo’s smooth-talking drug dealer reflects in Clockers, “he kept that shit for himself.” Bronx-born Richard Price (who coadapted Clockers’ script from his novel) is noted for his ability to infuse gritty, racially charged drama with wry wit. If books like The Wanderers don’t convince you, consider that he’s penned several episodes of scary-good TV sensation The Wire. (Cheryl Eddy)

8 p.m., $19
Herbst Theatre
401 Van Ness, SF
(415) 392-4400
www.cityboxoffice.com

MONDAY

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March 26

MUSIC

Leslie and the LY’s

If record executives ever suggested that plump performers like Martha Wash were meant to be heard and not seen in music videos, then Leslie and the LY’s have proven them big fat liars with their popular 2006 YouTube “Gem Sweater” video, showcasing rotund Midwestern rapper Leslie Hall’s kitschy act, which successfully combines her interest in bedazzled sweaters and ’80s female lyricists JJ Fad and L-Trim. With backup duo the LY’s in tow, Hall will perform this gonna-make-you-sweat single live among other phat tracks off her DIY albums Gold Pants (Hefty Hideaway, 2005) and Door Man’s Daughter (Hefty Hideaway, 2006). (Joshua Rotter)

With Fierce Perm
7 p.m., $10
Hemlock Tavern
1131 Polk, SF
(415) 596-7777
www.hemlocktavern.com

VISUAL ART

“New Work: Sylvie Blocher”

French artist Sylvie Blocher reclaims the cotton crew-neck classic as a tight-fitting tell-all in Je et Nous (I and Us), one of two video installations from her ongoing Living Pictures series. Working with 100 marginalized denizens of the ethnically diverse, economically impoverished Sevran district of Beaudottes, a northern suburb of Paris, Blocher invites her subjects to stand silently in front of her stationary camera and convey personal messages through the statements printed on their black T-shirts. In Blocher’s second projection, Men in Gold, the high-tech lords of sunny NorCal money have their say, sitting sit before an ornate grate that resembles a confessional booth, blustering about Fortune 500 successes. (Steven Jenkins)

Through May 13.
Mon.–Tues. and Fri.–Sun., 11 a.m.–5:45 p.m.; Thurs., 11 a.m.–8:45 p.m., $7–$12.50 (free first Tues.)
San Francisco Museum of Modern Art
151 Third St., SF
(415) 357-4000
www.sfmoma.org

SUNDAY

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March 25

MUSIC

Elvis Perkins in Dearland

If Fat Tuesday is about masquerading in costume, then Ash Wednesday reminds us that without these adornments, we are the dust of the earth. Folk rock quartet Elvis Perkins in Dearland’s debut LP, Ash Wednesday (XL Recordings), brings the theme home with a back-to-basics approach, forgoing digital software and studio subterfuge for analog tape and home-grown demos to create emotionally authentic autobiographical tracks. (Joshua Rotter)

With Let’s Go Sailing
8 p.m., $12
Cafe du Nord
2170 Market, SF
(415) 861-5016
www.cafedunord.com

MUSIC

Gilberto Gil

Breaking it down and bringing fierce and introspective grooves, Bahia, Brazil, native Gilberto Gil has shown that you can be both a groundbreaker and a policy maker. Brazil’s minister of culture for the last four years, Gil and fellow musician Caetano Veloso led the musical-sociocultural movement Tropicália in the ’60s. The Tropicalista’s fightin’ nature is little evident on Gil’s lovely recent solo guitar and vocal album, Gil Luminoso (DRG), a haunting collection of spare, evocative songs written over the last 25 years. (Kimberly Chun)

7 p.m., $36–$68
Zellerbach Hall
UC Berkeley, Lower Sproul Plaza
(near Bancroft at Telegraph), Berk.
(510) 642-9988

Also March 28, 7:30 p.m., $45-$65
Fox Theatre
2209, Broadway, Redwood City
www.foxdream.com

SATURDAY

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March 24

EVENT/MUSIC

Bittersweet 16: A Fundraiser
for Kitchen Sink Magazine

After four superlative years, the award-winning quarterly will soon vanish from newsstands, a bankrupt publisher and the closure of the Independent Press Association the cause of death. But they will not go quietly. Inspired by jazz funerals, the editors have planned a series of fundraisers to pay for their final issue. This one features performances by Conspiracy of Beards and Michael Zapruder, as well as raffle prizes from Amoeba Records, the Believer, and local artisans. (Nathan Baker)

9 p.m., $5–$10
Edinburgh Castle Pub
950 Geary, SF
(415) 885-4074
www.kitchensinkmag.com

MUSIC

Secret Chiefs 3

Trey Spruance’s Secret Chiefs 3 are not so much a real band as a collection of virtual bands, each dedicated to exploring its own esoteric musical traditions. The band’s lineup has been in flux since Spruance started the project in the mid-’90s; the current touring ensemble is a septet featuring a three-piece string section and a new drummer, Peijman Kouretchian, who brings a jaw-dropping command of both complex Middle Eastern polyrhythms and modern metal chops. SC3 will be performing songs ranging in style from apocalyptic surf rock to Persian math metal to sweeping cinematic epics. (Will York)

With Sleepytime Gorilla Museum
9 p.m., $19
Slim’s
333 11th St., SF
(415) 255-0333
www.slim’s-sf.com

FRIDAY

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March 23

MUSIC

Besnard Lakes

A question for the fuzz-lovin’ folks in Montreal’s Besnard Lakes: why the humility? You unleash 45 mind-frying minutes of psychedelic pageantry, and rather than shouting your brilliance from the rooftops with an album title worthy of superheroes, you instead opt for the merely mortal The Besnard Lakes Are the Dark Horse (Jagjaguwar, 2007)? Any band that can show the connections between the Beach Boys, Spiritualized, and My Morning Jacket automatically wins the race. (Todd Lavoie)

With the Helio Sequence
and Dirty on Purpose
8:30 p.m., $12
Rickshaw Stop
155 Fell, SF
(415) 861-2011
www.rickshawstop.com

MUSIC

Page France

Someone needs to get out there and publish a fat book celebrating the many virtues of the glockenspiel. There’d better be a chapter devoted to the winsome twinkles in the songs of Maryland’s finest suppliers of sweet sounds, Page France. Last year’s Hello, Dear Wind (Suicide Squeeze) scampers like springtime in the park, and the silvery tones plinking skyward from Mr. Xylophone’s cousin on album highlight “Junkyard” are enough to whisk me back to fourth grade on waves of nostalgia. (Todd Lavoie)

With Casiotone for the Painfully Alone and Headlights
9 p.m., $12
Cafe du Nord
2170 Market, SF
(415) 861-5016
www.cafedunord.com

THURSDAY

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March 22

MUSIC

Places

Just when you thought there couldn’t possibly be another talented mystical voice on the modern songwriter scene, along comes Amy Annelle, a.k.a. the Places. In truth, she’s been living on the road for years now, from ancestral and actual homes in Portland, Ore., and Austin, and garnering nods in Billboard, which named her sixth album, Songs for Creeps (High Plains Sigh), one of the 10 best of 2006, along the way. (Nathan Baker)

8 p.m., $8
Rickshaw Stop
155 Fell, SF
(415) 861-2011
www.rickshawstop.com

VISUAL ART

“Myth by Method”

Katrina Lamb channels music- and art-school training into pieces that have inspired comparisons to Kiki and Herb and John Kelly — in other words, if and when she tortures an audience, she does so intentionally. Lamb also works in other media, and in the new show “Myth and Method,” she’ll focus equally on the humble work of line drawing as she trades off music and video explorations with the artist collective Lansing-Dreiden. (Johnny Ray Huston)

Through May 5
6 p.m. opening, 8–11 p.m. music performance, $3–$10
New Langton Arts
1246 Folsom, SF
(415) 626-5416
www.newlangtonarts.org

Pleased to meat you

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FILM I was a vegetarian for 18 years — more than half my life. But after quite a bit of soul-searching (and one incredibly triumphant taste of bacon), I recently realized that 18 years was plenty long enough. The honest truth is that meat is delicious, and I enjoy the hell out of eating it.

Coincidentally (or not), the Donner Party included several Eddys. I have no proof that I’m related to the ill-fated pioneers, but I feel a certain kinship nonetheless. They were the ultimate carnivores, after all. I’m not alone in my fascination with cannibalism — why else would there be five Hannibal Lecter movies? Soylent Green is made of people; the living dead will eat your brains at any time of dawn, day, or night; and the biggest blockbuster of 2006, Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest, featured droves of flesh-hungry islanders. For every highbrow take on cannibalism (Tennessee Williams’s Suddenly Last Summer; song-of-myself doc Keep the River on Your Right; Japanese war drama Fires on the Plain; art house fave Eating Raoul; plane-crash saga Alive), there are dozens more glorifying the ultimate taboo with sleazy glee. Put on your eatin’ dress and consider these tasty standouts.

(1) The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 (Tobe Hooper, 1986). The first Chainsaw is a hands-down horror classic. The sequel, which stars Dennis Hopper and is far more of a comedy, includes a subplot about a chili cook-off: "No secret, it’s the meat. Don’t skimp on the meat."

(2) The Hills Have Eyes (Wes Craven, 1977). When Wes Craven met Eddie Murphy when they made Vampire in Brooklyn, the first thing Murphy did was quote The Hills Have Eyes: "Baby’s fat. You fat … fat and juicy."

(3–4) Ravenous (Antonia Bird, 1999). The American frontier circa 1847 provides the backdrop for this tale; well worth it just for the cast of twitchy character actors such as Robert Carlyle, Jeremy Davies, and David Arquette. A good double feature with Cannibal! The Musical (Trey Parker, 1996).

(4) Blood Diner (Jackie Kong, 1987). Guess what’s on the menu.

(5) Frightmare (Pete Walker, 1974). And you thought your family had issues.

(6) Dahmer (David Jacobson, 2002). One of the finer entries in the booming serial-killer biopic genre.

(8–10) The Cannibal gang: Cannibal Holocaust (Ruggero Deodato, 1980), Cannibal Ferox (Umberto Lenzi, 1981), and Cannibal Apocalypse (Antonio Margheriti, 1980). Nobody does human cruelty and bad-taste brutality like the Italians. (Cheryl Eddy)

CANNIBAL HOLOCAUST

Fri/23–Sat/14, midnight, $9.75

Clay, 2261 Fillmore, SF

www.landmarkafterdark.com

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