Video

If you’re nasty

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U.K. HORROR Once outrage settles over the current Parliamentary expense-account scandals, our former colonialist landlords will no doubt return to their concerns about "broken Britain," as the perceived general decline of moral rectitude in the United Kingdom is termed these days. Call ’em hoodies, chavs, yobs, or Neds, U.K. youth are seen as waaay out of control — albeit in ways that would seldom elicit more than a perfunctory shrug of disgust here — and their loutish, negligent, unemployed, or dole-collecting parents merit equal time in the sense-slappin’ machine.

Real or exaggerated, this trend of antisocial behaviors has inevitably crept into the entertainment realm, horror movies included. While the two Brit features (Blood River and 2008’s The Dead Outside) in this year’s Another Hole in the Head Festival only marginally deal with the phenomenon, three recent stateside DVD releases by first-time feature writer-directors find "Whatever happened to family values?!" terror placed front and center.

Not long ago especially gory or sadistic genre flicks were branded "video nasties," heavily cut or banned outright from distribution in Britain. That those days are gone, however, is made vividly clear by Steven Sheil’s Mum and Dad (2008). When Polish immigrant Lena (Olga Fedori) misses the last bus to central London, aggressively friendly fellow Heathrow cleaning staffer Birdie (Ainsley Howard) and her shy brother Elbie (Toby Alexander) invite her to spend the night at their nearby home.

Unfortunately Lena soon discovers she’s a permanent guest, kept on a very tight leash by "Mum" (Dido Miles) and "Dad" (Perry Benson). Covering familiar terrain, with particular debt to 1991’s The People Under the Stairs, Mum sports its own distinctive musk of grotesquerie, with an all-time-sickest Yuletide celebration providing craftsy homemakers with one hell of a Christmas wall-ornament idea.

Meanwhile, in rural Ireland, the least united part of the "kingdom," Plague Town (2008) again proves you really don’t want to miss that last transit run. Here, a dysfunctional American tourist family discovers one extra-large brood of horribly functional kiddies during an overnight stranding they’re unlikely to survive. Director David Gregory cut his teeth making DVD-extra tributes to Tobe Hooper, Jess Franco, Jim Van Bebber, and the "video nasty" era itself. His mentors would be proud.

More realistic, upsetting, and directly addressing "broken Britain" fears is James Watkins’ Eden Lake (2008). Another vacation-gone-horribly-wrong tale, it played one unnoticed week at the Lumiere last year. Yuppie couple Kelly Reilly and Michael Fassbender’s weekend Buckinghamshire idyll runs afoul of some ill-mannered local tweens, who unfortunately are led by a full-blown junior psychopath. After its routine setup this develops into a genuinely grueling spin on Deliverance (1972), Lord of the Flies (1954), and whatnot, with an ending that can be nitpicked for plausibility but that nonetheless leaves a real chill.

The struggle continues

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>rebeccab@sfbg.com


Video of May 26’s anti-Prop 8 rally. Video by Rebecca Bowe. For more videos from that day, click here.

An estimated 10,000 people turned out in San Francisco May 26 for a day of rallies and marches staged in reaction to the California Supreme Court’s decision to uphold Proposition 8, the voter-approved measure passed in November 2008 that outlawed same-sex marriage in California. Expressing anger and frustration with the news, same-sex couples and advocates for marriage equality nonetheless vowed to push ahead with a new fight to overturn Prop. 8 at the ballot.

"Today’s court decision means we have to go back to the ballot," Abdi Soltani, executive director of the Northern California chapter of the American Civil Liberties Union, told a crowd gathered outside San Francisco City Hall. "The issue is not whether we go back to the ballot. The key question for us to tackle now is what we have to do in order to win at the ballot. That’s the difficult work that is ahead for all of us."

It was an emotional day for same-sex couples. Protesters took to the streets in permitted and spontaneous marches, and 200 arrests were made after a sit-in was staged at Van Ness and Grove streets around midday.

"It’s a sad day to be a Californian, as far as I’m concerned. I’m embarrassed," Castro District resident Hank Doonan, standing arm in arm with his partner Michael Talty, told the Guardian. Talty displayed his engagement ring. "We’re still getting married, and it doesn’t matter," he asserted with a note of defiance. "But we’re really sad today."

Molly McKay, media director for nationwide same-sex marriage advocacy group Marriage Equality USA, appeared at the San Francisco rally in a wedding dress. "I’m sorry we have to keep fighting the same battle," she told the Guardian later. "But I’m proud of all the people who turned out."

Pop-pop-Poppins with Fagottron

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By Marke B.

expialidocious0609.jpg

Writing about electronic music in this Age Of Everything Always Available seems to be more and more an exercise in nostalgia. Artists are caught up mousing over the pull-down menu of the past, widgeting it into today’s latest technology — especially in the case of video mashups. (A similar-type thing happened with the debut of the CD, when the past was rummaged through for reissue-mania, and, as the Guardian‘s Johnny Ray Huston has pointed out, reissues still hold dollar-sway and carry much label cred in the record industry). Earlier this year, I attempted to fathom how Israeli YouTube mashup genius Kutiman was working the nostalgia tip — not in the literally referential, crate-digging manner of DJ Shadow, but in a melancholic, sampladelic way all his own.

Now — joy of joys, for real — we have the latest video mashup by one of Kutiman’s indisputable forebears, Fagottron. This, you cannot deny the literal nostalgia of. Not just because he’s tapping directly into the mid-90s heyday of electronica — but because he’s freaking sampling the Disney movies of yesteryear. “The track is composed of a sine wave bass, custom drum sequences, and sounds recorded from the Disney film Mary Poppins,” the YouTube more info box relays, deliciously. Funny, that was going to be my epitaph.

Fagottron, “Expialidocious”

And Fagy’s not just unleashing his dizzying Avid skills on the super-famous flicks (although I’d love to see his version of Ariel) — here’s a couple he did two years ago that took me back to those misty “movie afternoons” in the grade-school gymansia of my youthfulness, albeit in slightly freakier form:

Fagottron, “White Magic”

Prop 8: The French say it best …

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… via the lovely and very British singer Lily Allen:

Bonus! The original “Big Fat Gay Collab” video the above takes off from:

Can young people hurry up and take over the world already? Yeesh.

Video of Prop 8 protests

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By Rebecca Bowe

Yesterday’s evening rally in the wake of the California Supreme Court’s decision to uphold Prop 8 attracted thousands. Click below to view a multimedia slide show of the events.

Crack “Relapse”

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a&eletters@sfbg.com

SONIC REDUCER Symptoms: until last year there were few signs of life from Eminem, the hip-hop artist. Last sighted taking a bow on the cover of his last, toned-down, more PC, and ultimately underwhelming studio 2004 album, Encore, the rapper disappeared from the scene, as rumors festered about retirement and later, after he dropped out of the 2005 Anger Management Tour, substance abuse. Out of rehab and back to music-making — with hip-hop once again his favorite high, as he put it in a recent interview, Shady’s Relapse (Aftermath/Goliath/Interscope/Shady/Web) is now in our hands.

Diagnosis: listening to Em lead with his anger a decade after the release of The Slim Shady LP (Aftermath/Interscope), we’re back to the kind of music and lyrics the man was born to make and sling — impossible to ignore when blasting, and incapable of being reduced to wallpaper. Relapse isn’t perfect. The weakest track is the first single, "We Made You," with its easy, adolescent, cartoonish video and relatively violence-free lyrics. One too many numbers obsessively retreads similar women-hating, gore-mongering themes on this 22-tracker, which includes the hidden Dre collabos "Old Time’s Sake" and "Crack a Bottle" with 50 Cent. But even at its most repetitive (i.e., the skits devoted to nay-saying music biz types), Relapse writhes with life and smarts, conceptually of one piece from its narrative-like programming to its pill-mosaic cover portrait and medicine bottle top-like "Push, Down & Turn" packaging.

Em’s faux Jamaican/Scottish toaster patois may irk, much like his habit of subbing rap’s omnipresent "bitch" for "lesbian," but it’s tough to deny the vitality — and vitriol — rushing off Relapse‘s first three songs, as the rapper frontloads the disc with his strongest material. Tracks like the opener "3 a.m." and its serial-killer imagery (check the steal of Silence of the Lamb‘s imminently swipe-able "It puts the lotion in the basket" monologue and then the YouTube remixes) make it clear from the start that nasty alter ego Slim Shady has lapsed back into view. As he faces a 3 a.m. darkest hour of the soul stocked with a Fangoria-style rogue’s crew of references to Jason, Freddy, Dahmer, et al., rage continues to feed his rap.

Such gruesome reveries make Marshall Mathers’ acknowledged sleeping pill addiction totally understandable — whatever quiets the mind, dude. And though I usually suggest meditation and yoga as alternatives to self-medication, I’m loath to wreck such chaotic, thrill-kill fantasies as "Hello" and "Medicine Ball." "Bagpipes from Baghdad" and the more insinuating, handclap-riddled "Same Song and Dance" call out the perceived sins of rumored exes Lindsey Lohan, Britney Spears, and Mariah Carey — a trash-culture harem that makes one suspect that Shady’s rehab stays involved a lot of tabloid browsing for dates. Attraction is always linked to repulsion, hinted at in the openly weary title of the latter.

Blame the mother — Eminem does, while fully aware that the world is familiar with that corrosive, at times litigious relationship, judging from the beginning of second track, "My Mom": "My mom, my mom, I know you’re probably tired about hearing ’bout my mom." His still-heated fury at her legacy of bad parenting and Valium addiction streams through his flow, this time specifically linked to his own pill predilection. "Wait a minute this isn’t dinner this is paint thinner /’You ate it yesterday I ain’t hear no complaints did I? Now here’s a plate full of pain killers,’" he spits, before ending with, "Alright ma you win, I don’t feel like arguin’ /I’ll do it, pop it gobble it and start wobblin’ /stumble hobble tumble slip trip till I fall in bed with a bottle of meds and a Heath Ledger bobblehead." Ledger’s damaged Joker would appreciate those last, tongue-tying, onomatopoetic lines, pointing to Em’s revived brilliance even amid the Shadiest, sketched-out turmoil.

Or blame the stepfather. Was Eminem raped by his stepfather as a child? And if so, have pop listeners ever been informed of sexual abuse this graphically via song? "Insane" might be the most horrifically explicit, yet — a credit to Eminem’s powers as a bold entertainer — bleakly humorous and compulsively listenable tune about child molestation to date. Here, as with so many of his lyrics, the victim becomes conflated with the victimizer, as the rapper hints at the generational transfer of abuse: "I want you to feel me like my stepfather felt me /Fuck a little puppy kick the puppy while he’s yelping /Shady what the fuck you saying I don’t know help me," he rages, flipping between characters before settling on a primal scene too painful to be relegated to fiction, speaking as a boy to a step-Pater Monstrous. "I only get naked when the babysitter tells me /She showed me a movie like Nightmare on Elm Street / but it was X and they called it ‘Pubic Hair on Chelsea’/’Well this one’s called ‘Ass Rape’ and we’re shooting the jail scene.’" Don’t go there? Impossible. If rehab released fresh, brave streams of anger and pain in Eminem, no wonder Relapse 2 is hot on this horror flick of an album’s heels.

Is cable access worth $28?

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By Tim Redmond

That’s a key question that will come before the Board of Supervisors Tuesday.

The board is voting on a resolution by Sup. Ross Mirkarimi that would seek to save the city’s PEG — that is, public, educational and government — cable TV access program. If the resolution doesn’t pass, the current PEG system, run through the nonprofit San Francisco Community Television Corporation — will shut down June 30.

The Comcast lobbyists are all over City Hall, working every supervisor, trying to stave off a move that would make the company pay a few million dollars a year to keep CTC running. Comcast’s biggest argument: We will simply pass the costs along to the consumers. Cable subscribers who now pay $6.24 a year for PEG fees will wind up paying $28.20 a year.

Comcast is calling that a 352 percent hike, but the reality is that $28 a year is, in my mind, very little to pay for the kind of cable access we now have. As CTC chief Zane Blaney noted in a message he sent around this week:

The question is whether PEG access is worth $2.35 per subscriber per month? That’s less than the price of a latte or a pizza or a bag of chips. It’s less than the price of a movie or three iTune downloads. For a year, it’s about the price of a movie for two with popcorn. Most subscribers get hundreds of channels that they don’t watch or care about and get nothing but mindless programming in return. With PEG they get access to television training and production facilities; 2,500 hours of relevant local, community-based, grassroots programming; gavel-to-gavel coverage of government meeting and distance learning courses.

The vote on Tuesday will determine if the cable industry will continue to rule at City Hall; diminish the return to San Franciscans for their use of our public-rights-of-way and continue to collect nearly $2,000,000 per year from San Francisco cable subscribers without returning anything substantial in the public interest. We can make a difference, but not without your help. Here’s what you can do.

Call and email the following Supervisors:

Bevan Dufty
415-554-6968
bevan.dufty@sfgov.org

David Chiu
514-554-7450
david.chiu@sfgov.org

Sophie Maxwell
415-554-7670
sophie.maxwell@sfgov.org

Tell them PEG access is worth $2.35 per month and, if you’re a cable subscriber, tell them you’re willing to pay this fee and to support the State Video Franchise Holder Ordinance at 3%.

Also, if you’re available, come to the meeting of the Supervisors on Tuesday, May 19th with an object worth at least $2.35 and hold it up with a sign supporting PEG. No food or drink is allowed in the Chamber.

Sounds like a good idea to me.

Shooting past “sharrows”

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San Francisco’s bicycle advocates have been focused on winning approval for 56 near-term projects outlined in the city’s bike plan, which would increase the number of miles of bike lanes from 45 to 79, and quadruple the number of city streets bearing "sharrow" markings (see "Street fight," 2/4/09).

But bike-related projects farther out on the horizon could significantly raise the bar for a bikeable San Francisco. Here are a six long-range concepts that could make cycling in the city more safe, enjoyable, and accessible to people who might otherwise be driving solo.

BRIDGING THE GAP


Cyclists who commute between San Francisco and the East Bay have asked an obvious question for years: why must I spend money on BART fares or bridge tolls to get across the bay when I know I’m capable of biking there? When construction of the new east span of the Bay Bridge is finished, cyclists will finally get a bike path — but it will only get them from Oakland to Yerba Buena Island. Luckily, the idea of installing a complementary bike path along the west span to San Francisco is being entertained. It’s expensive (estimates place the cost at $200 million) and complicated (a 2001 feasibility study found there would need to be tracks on both sides of the bridge for balance). But in early April, the Bay Area Toll Authority agreed to spend $1.3 million on an 18-month study so the project could be shovel-ready when funding becomes available.

CAR-FREE MARKET STREET


Market Street is a popular thoroughfare for bicyclists even though much of its design creates tight-squeezes and conflicts with automobiles. For years there’s been talk of making it car-free, an idea once advocated by former Mayor Willie Brown. It was studied in 1997, but never received enough support to move forward, in part because area merchants worry their business would be hurt by restricting motorists. But the latest attempt to quell Market Street traffic may get more traction. Sup. Chris Daly, who also sits on the Metropolitan Transportation Commission, requested a comprehensive study on restricting Market Street traffic and a draft report is expected by early summer. Andy Thornley, program director at the San Francisco Bicycle Coalition, notes that the overarching idea is not to make Market Street exclusive to bikes and pedestrians, but to improve it as a whole. "A car-free Market Street may be the route," Thorney says, "but it’s not the reason."

COLOR ME BIKEABLE


Ask Dave Snyder, transportation policy director at the San Francisco Planning and Urban Research Association (SPUR), what constitutes an ideal bike lane, and he’ll say it has to be safe enough for parents to feel comfortable allowing their eight-year-old to ride a bike there. "That’s a very high standard," he says. "But it’s a correct standard." One approach for safeguarding bike lanes, adopted in New York City and elsewhere, is to color them in. Bike activists have been pushing the idea here, but the monkey wrench in the works is a sort of national bible of traffic symbols that lacks a standard for colored bike lanes. If the city rolls with a concept that’s outside the rulebook, the thinking goes, it could be a liability. But bike advocates hope to incorporate colored bike lines into the standard via a pilot program. In coming months, be on the lookout for more colorful city streets.

THINK INSIDE THE BOX


A bike box is a colored bike zone just before an intersection designed to let cyclists get out in front of traffic at a red light so they can be more visible. SF has two low-profile bike boxes, Thornley notes, but plans are on the horizon to install more. When the city of Portland, Ore. installed them, it produced a video called "On the Move with Mr. Smooth" to promote the concept. Hosted by a greasy character in a neon green shirt, the video makes a big deal about how motorists get a great view when they stop behind the bike-box line. "The bike box," Portland’s slogan proclaims. "Get behind it."

A BLUE-GREEN WORLD


Blue for the water, green for the parks and open space, the Blue Greenway is envisioned as a 13-mile corridor along the southeastern waterfront that would connect a string of existing parks from the Giants’ stadium to Candlestick Point State Recreation Area. "We want to connect not only parks along the Blue Greenway, but connect people to the waterfront," explains Corrine Woods, who is working on the project through the Neighborhood Parks Council. The corridor will serve as the city’s southeastern portion of the San Francisco Bay Trail, a massive interconnected trail network planned by the Association of Bay Area Governments that is envisioned as a 400-mile recreational "ring around the Bay."

BACK ON TRACK


For now cyclists aren’t allowed to bring their bikes — not even the folding kind — on Muni trains or buses (although some buses have bike racks outside). But it’s something the Municipal Transportation Agency has on its radar as a possible policy change, according to spokesperson Judson True. "As we move forward and people become more aware of the benefits of public transit, our vehicles become more and more crowded," True notes. This may be a good problem to have, but it means the agency must work out a strategy to accommodate wheelchair-bound passengers, strollers, walkers, bikes, and other essentials that passengers bring on board. Once the bike-plan injunction is lifted, True says, he expects MTA to approve a pilot program for bikes on Muni. In order to discourage more people from driving, he says, "linking sustainable modes of transportation like biking and transit is key."

Reels and (two) wheels

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What’s a "bike movie?" If you immediately thought of Breaking Away (1979), two upcoming events suggest that your definition is li’l old-fashioned. First up: the Disposable Film Festival is hosting a "Bike-In" outdoor screening. Pedal over and enjoy a selection of films (with an emphasis on bike themes) culled from DFFs past; an after-party celebrates the release of the Guardian‘s Bike to Work issue.

San Franciscans Eric Slatkin and Carlton Evans founded the fest in 2007 to highlight so-called disposable films — "any film made on these alternative devices we’ve seen cropping up in the past few years: cell phones, web cams, point-and-shoot cameras, one-time use video cameras, pocket cams," Slatkin said. "They really democratize the idea of not just filmmaking, but of a filmmaker."

The spirit of the festival lends itself to a bike-in screening. "The core of the DFF is a real DIY aesthetic," Evans said. "I think there’s a similar kind of aesthetic in the biking community in San Francisco. I bike all over the city, and I’m always navigating the city in a way where I’m having to overcome obstacles. You just sort of take on these challenges and come up with your own solutions."

Brendt Barbur, director of the New York City-based Bicycle Film Festival (now in its ninth year, it travels to San Francisco this summer), would likely agree with this comparison. The BFF showcases experimental films, music videos, documentaries, and more, with tie-in art exhibits and live music shows, but it’s powered by the creative energy of everyday cyclists.

"Technology has given the bike movement a tool to express themselves," he said from BFF headquarters in NYC. "That DIY spirit runs through the festival. A lot of people — maybe they’re graphic designers or bike messengers — have something to say, and cameras are now accessible to a lot of folks. Those little gems they produce are, a lot of times, the most popular movies at the festival."

DISPOSABLE FILM FESTIVAL: BIKE-IN

Wed/13, 8 p.m., free

Outside the Good Hotel, 112 Seventh St., SF

www.disposablefilmfest.com

BICYCLE FILM FESTIVAL

July 14-19

www.bicyclefilmfestival.com

House of Horrors

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› kimberly@sfbg.com

SONIC REDUCER Thrills and chills and disco ball spills — that’s what the Horrors are made of? After Shih Tzu-banged frontman Faris Badwan brattily ripped the mirror ball off the ceiling of 330 Ritch a scant two years ago, who knew the U.K. band would show its true, formative, and fundamentally curious colors? The hues and cries streaming off the Horrors’ second album, Primary Colours (XL) read as a limpid, moonlit pop-sonnet to true-school proto-goth-rockers and morbidly fixated post-punk upsetters like Siouxsie and the Banshees and Killing Joke.

Just don’t flash that dance-floor orb in front of Badwan again. "Mmm, Faris never really liked mirror balls," mumbles guitarist Joshua Third, né Hayward. It’s frozen in Boston, where the group is performing that night, and the chill that drops momentarily over the conversation is brief yet bracing. "Luckily we haven’t played anywhere with a mirror ball for ages."

Despite the menace — or maybe because of it — the goth-punk movement has always seemed fundamentally conservative. But the Horrors don’t peddle the shockabilly moves so common among goth-identified SoCalis. In contrast to the easy-sleazy comic-book corn of today’s prominent goth-punk purveyors — pass the Horrorpops and just keep walking — the group now draws from exploratory originators Joy Division and ornery rabble-rousers the Birthday Party. Primary Colours boasts driving tunes carved from silvery synth textures ("Three Decades") and Jesus and Mary Chain-like buzz-saw pop that thumps with creative negativity ("Who Can Say").

The group capers on the same frosty darkling plain as Interpol, judging from tunes like the Velvet-y, string-strewn "I Only Think of You," which may turn off those with a low tolerance for pop pomposity. Still, the opening track, "Mirror’s Image," sets the tone for pleasing surprise with its initial lush, plangent soundscape — more akin to Lindstrøm than Sisters of Mercy — before gently plunging into spiraling reverb, effects-gristled guitar, and a nodding keyboard fragment that will have some recalling Echo and the Bunnymen and others Kraftwerk.

Third says Primary Colours was "the first chance we had as a band to shut ourselves away and work on the record on our own. We’d retreat into a rehearsal space and get completely lost in it. Yeah, I think that really comes through."

The Horrors titled the first song they ever wrote "Sheena is a Parasite," so yes, this is throwback rock, It gazes directly into the eyes of the more serious Anglo art-rock makers of the ’80s with self-conscious affection, especially on haunted, haunting songs such as "Do You Remember." And what’s wrong with that?

"We actually made a record that’s a complete trip, from start to finish — it takes you through different moods," Third explains. "Also, you can listen to it on repeat, because the last track plays into the first track. I’ve always been quite into the idea because I like to sit down and listen to things over and over again." It’s a quality he misses in many new albums. "Yeah, partly the Internet’s to blame. Partly labels are to blame. Partly bands are to blame — because they don’t seem to care anymore," he says, capping the remark with a small grim chuckle.

In the Horrors’ hands — the ensemble coproduced along with longtime collaborator Craig Silvey, Portishead’s Geoff Barrow, and video artist Chris Cunningham — Primary Colours sounds astonishingly unmusty, stirring with tangible signs of life. The group has managed to find a pulse — while maturing into, yikes, artists. "We were all 19 when we wrote the first record — now we’re in our early twenties!" Third exclaims. "I think it’s the typical growing-up … malarkey." *

THE HORRORS

With the Kills

Tues/19, 8 p.m., $22.50

Fillmore

1805 Geary, SF

www.livenation.com

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MORE LIVE:

COMEDIANS OF ROCK II

Musical funny folk Tara Jepsen of Lesbians, Chris Portfolio of Hank IV, and Matt Hartman of Sic Alps pit wits and carve out snarfs at this comedy two-fer. Wed/13, 9 p.m., free. Hemlock Tavern, 1131 Polk, SF. www.hemlocktavern.com

BLACK JOE LEWIS AND THE HONEYBEARS

And what a long, sweet name it is: the Austin, Texas, soul-stirrers cook up hot ones from Tell ‘Em What Your Name Is! (Lost Highway). Sat/16, 9 p.m. $17. Slim’s, 333 11th St., SF. www.slims-sf.com

JOHN VANDERSLICE

The Tiny Telephone operator’s new Romanian Names (Dead Oceans) rolls out Moog moods and Byzantine yarns. Mon/18, 6 p.m., free. Amoeba Music, 1855 Haight, SF. www.amoeba.com. Tues/19, 7:30 p.m., $16. Rickshaw Stop, 155 Fell, SF. www.rickshawstop.com

The world stage

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a&eletters@sfbg.com

Recently I was lucky enough to land at an international theater festival in Wroclaw, Poland, jostling elbows with a transnational mix of theater folk on the occasion of the 13th annual European Theatre Prize, this year awarded to the great Polish director Krystian Lupa. It was an eye-opening glimpse at some awesome theatrical muscle rarely if ever seen in the Bay Area, or even the United States. Globally-renowned powerhouses like Italy’s Pippo Delbono and Belgium’s Guy Cassiers were there with some extraordinary work, not to mention that of Lupa, whose utterly brilliant and plotless eight-hour fantasia on Andy Warhol’s Factory, Factory 2, proved an absolute highlight of my theatergoing career thus far.

While dreaming of the day Factory 2 takes its local bow, I can only appreciate all the more what places like UC Berkeley’s Zellerbach Hall or San Francisco’s Yerba Buena Center for the Arts do in bringing us news of the theatrical world — or news of the world, theatrically. Another local presenter of exceptional international work has been the San Francisco International Arts Festival, whose sixth season begins this week. SFIAF and executive director Andrew Wood have increasingly made world theater a vital part of the fest’s eclectic performance mix. This year is no exception, with three must-sees in the lineup.

First, South Korea’s Cho-In Theatre makes its U.S. debut with The Angel and the Woodcutter, an original physical theater piece reutf8g the Korean folk tale in a wordless, poetical drama as uncompromising as it is unexpected. Then, Russia’s famed, immensely creative performance ensemble, the Akhe Group — proponents of what they call "Russian Engineering Theatre" and favorites at SFIAF in 2005, where they presented White Cabin — return with the U.S. premiere of Gobo.Digital Glossary, a wild and captivating conglomeration of video projections, animation, ambient music, lasers, clowning, and trompe l’oeil.

Also receiving its Bay Area premiere is Beyond the Mirror, an unprecedented collaboration between New York’s Bond Street Theatre and Afghanistan’s Exile Theatre. The description of this first American-Afghani theatrical outing might ring a bell: Mirror had been slated to open Brava’s theatrical season in fall 2008, when the U.S. government’s inexplicable delays in processing visas for the Afghan performers forced its last-minute cancellation. That disappointment will happily be rectified by SFIAF when Mirror opens at Cowell Theater. (A second San Francisco appearance follows as part of foolsFURY’s Fury Factory festival in June.)

The two companies began crafting the play after meeting by chance in 2002 among the refugee camps outside Peshawar in northern Pakistan, where the activist, physical-theater–based Bond Street went after 9/11 to develop links to the Afghan people and work with a German NGO building schools in the devastated country. Exile, meanwhile, had formed as a group of refugee playwrights, actors, and other performance professionals committed to keeping Afghan arts alive and reflecting the concerns of the Afghani population living as second-class citizens in Pakistan.

Never more timely, the play ranges over the last three decades of Afghanistan’s history, using an expressive mélange of theatrical forms and techniques — including oral history, mythology, live music, traditional dance, drama, acrobatics, puppetry, and film — to tell a story of war and hope at the cusp of yet another turbulent chapter in the country’s unfolding story. Notably, the eight-member half-American, half-Afghani cast includes Afghanistan’s most famous actress, Anisa Wahab, who grew up in happier times on camera as a child star and has continued to act despite its still dangerous implications for women.

Communicating partly with some mutual English, and largely in terms of both distinct and shared physical vocabularies, the artists developed what became Mirror in a nonlinear, highly abstract way, according to Bond Street artistic director Joanna Sherman, who codirected it with Exile’s Mahmoud Shah Salimi. That in no way diminishes its rootedness or poignancy.

"We went around the countryside and interviewed different people, and videotaped them as they would allow," Sherman explained by phone from New York. "Our challenge was to portray these terrible stories in a way that was not gruesome or impossible to watch. We used our physical techniques in a way that it would be watchable and compelling but not exactly ‘realistic.’"

Since Mirror‘s premiere at the second Kabul Theatre Festival in 2005, much has happened in the U.S. and Afghanistan, prompting a small but significant revision, a new final scene, according to Sherman. "We do leave on a thought of hope," she stressed. "But [we’re] doing some interviewing again and getting some additional video. We’ll see what happens."

SAN FRANCISCO INTERNATIONAL ARTS FESTIVAL

May 20-31, various venues

www.sfiaf.org

Appetite: Sticky toffee, casual clambake, Mama mia, Jimmy the Greek. and more

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Each week, Virginia Miller of personalized itinerary service and monthly food, drink, and travel newsletter, www.theperfectspotsf.com, shares foodie news, events, and deals. View the last installment here.

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Scottish Eggs, Chips & Pastie at Martins West. Photo by Chris Andre

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NEW RESTAURANT and BAR OPENINGS

Martins West helps you wash down fine eats
Time to trek down South (the Peninsula, that is) to Redwood City for this week’s hot opening, Martins West Pub. The original Martins is in Edinburgh… this locale is an homage to that gastropub (I’ll admit, an overused term) where comfort, hand-crafted beers, and hearty food meet seasonal, gourmet sensibilities. Like the beer, cocktails and scotch selections are extensive so you can wash down Michael Dotson’s (of Tahoe’s Plumpjack Cafe) quality "pub grub" (think Ploughman’s lunch, herb-crusted marrow bones or house-made charcuterie). Pastry Chef, Kelly Fields (of Sens and some of New Orleans best restaurants) stays sweet with sticky toffee pudding, drunken raisin ice cream or hot toddy pot de creme. Inside the 1896 Alhambra building, once a theater and saloon, you’ll feel the spirit of Wyatt Earp, who used to frequent the place while his wife, Josie, sang from the adjoining theater. Belly up to the 25-foot bar, boys!
831 Main Street, Redwood City
650-366-4366
www.martinswestgp.com

Otoro0509.jpg
Sake bar at Otoro Sushi. Photo by Virgina Miller

Tiny but chic Otoro Sushi makes three in Hayes Valley
Hayes Valley already hasSebo and Domo for impeccable sushi, but why not one more? A couple blocks away from the heart of Hayes, lunch and dinner of the fresher kind can be had at tiny but chic Otoro, just opened a few days ago. I’ve already enjoyed a generously-portioned lunch and look forward to more. There’s a snug, eight-seat sushi bar, sake bar and a handful of tables, with plenty of sashimi, udon, and rolls like the Hip Hop Roll, topped with garlic white tuna.
205 Oak Street
415-553-3986

Fly Bar debuts in Brick space with pizza and video games
Brick morphs into a Fly, or rather, into sister location to ever-popular Fly on Divisadero. Responding to the times with nothing over $12, Fly Bar will surely win some fans. A 4:30-6:30pm Happy Hour offers drink specials and half-price pizzas (like Southwestern or Jimmy the Greek), while the usual menu means apps, pizzas and sandwiches galore. Playful cocktails are only $7-8 at full price, like Island Root Beer (dark rum, Abita root beer and house-made ginger syrup), or Scrum: Boddington’s with a shot of Jameson. Sneak to the back room for a four-player arcade, snazzed up with cup holders and free games! It’s good to reinvent oneself from time to time.
1085 Sutter Street
415-441-4232

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EVENTS

May 10 – La Festa Della Mamma at Bar Bambino
It’s time to honor Mama. If she’s in town, or you want to raise a glass to her, Bar Bambino has a special Mother’s Day prix-fixe. Starting off with a choice of crespelle di frutta, a crepe-like dish with strawberries and ricotta, soup or sformatino di porri (a cheesy leek flan with Dungeness crab salad), you then move on to main courses: either a Parmigiano-Reggiano, egg, frisee salad, a braised leg of lamb, or grilled swordfish marinated in olive oil, lemon, garlic and oregano. Still hungry for dessert? It’s sorbet and biscotti or chocolate tarlets with berries. With Mamma the beating heart of Italian life, you know she’ll be treated right, Italian-style, at Bambino.
$45
11am-3pm
2931 16th Street
415-701-8466
www.barbambino.com

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DEALS

Cali-Casual Clambakes at Nettie’s Crab Shack
I don’t know why the word "clambake" evokes nostalgic memories for me – I partly grew up in Jersey, not nearby New England. But when I heard Cow Hollow’s Nettie’s Crab Shack turned Sunday nights into California Casual Clambakes (replacing Sunday Crab Feeds), I got a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. It’s all family-style, from salad, cornbread, a pot of whole prawns, mussels, clams, Delta crawfish, spicy sausage and boiled potatoes, to Whoopee pies for dessert.
$35 per person
Sundays, 5–10pm
2032 Union Street
415-409-0300
www.nettiescrabshack.com

Down wit’ ODP

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0

a&eletters@sfbg.com

SONIC REDUCER Remember Y2K, the dot-com boom … electroclash? Born when the 9/11 attacks were but a glimmer in Terror’s eye, electroclash flickered into view swiftly, a punk/DIY movement of sorts as every imaginative slut ‘n’ buck plugged into easily accessible music-making technology via no-band-backtalk laptops. It all climaxed with a 2003 tour and then an electroclash backlash, as associated artists distanced themselves from the tag. Now, much like a sexy, robotic zombie designed to sell booze with sleek chrome boobs, it seems to be clattering back to life, à la the Star Trek franchise or any other once-future-forward artifact from a distant age.

It’s been too long. After dance-punk, plain ole electro, Bmore moves, laser booty, bass crazes, and the like, the crass class of 2000 is threatening to strut its kicks ‘n’ kinks once again. May 5 was apparently ground zero for electroclash’s survivors. The man who coined the genre, Larry Tee, returned then with Club Badd (Ultra), and Perez "My Penis" Hilton, Amanda "My Pussy" Lepore, and Princess Superstar on board with him. Fischerspooner came back the same day as well, promising Entertainment (FS Studios) before a May 22 live production at the Fillmore. Casey and company select the path of earnest synth-pop and downbeat soundscape explorations ("Money Can’t Dance"), while Mr. Tee’s, er, full-length comes off as a "badd" joke or novelty toss-off at best and embarrassing at worst, thanks to its tone-deaf paeans to "Agyness Deyn" and "The Noughties" (sorry to inform Tee that the aforementioned is nearly over). Yet both recordings pale in comparison to another May 5 entry in the mini-revival. I Feel Cream (XL) is the latest effort by an original who creeps into the oddest cultural crannies, from Gap ads to 2003’s Lost in Translation: Peaches.

OK, I’m still hot for ex-teacher Merrill Nisker. I cherish those sexy dialed-in giggles over her Itty Bitty Titty Club, back around the time that The Teaches of Peaches (Kitty-Yo/XL, 2000) thrust into view. And I’m rooting for Peaches — 40 and onto her fourth long-player — to snatch the dance floor crown from Lady GaGa. With her now-well-foregrounded singing and still-girlish-sounding dirty party raps, she’s equipped to do it.

Just dance? There’s no denying that Peaches is feeling the creamy, gooey fluidity of life beneath the mirror ball, assisted by producer James Ford of Simian Mobile Disco, among others. But her orgies are crammed with sharp edges and jagged corners; the at-times- gorgeous arrangements are preoccupied with candy-hued horror show synth textures, rave airhorns, whinnying house effects, and last-days-of-disco tropes. Yes, Peaches has been busy, much like her album. Teaming with Yo Majesty’s Shunda K on "Billionaire" — a faux-gold-digger-on-gold-digger track that sounds like the first single off a Gwen Stefani solo missive — Peaches concludes with a curdled snarl, "Until they tie the noose /never overproduced." Is the irony intentional?

Half self-aware smartass, half full-blown art babe caught up in the carnival, Peaches has moved from the more politically confrontational Impeach My Bush (XL, 2006) toward the rave era’s pacifying teat. The video for the designed-to-be-a-hit "Talk to Me," in which a mohawked Peaches tears at a Dorian Gray-like portrait, daisy-enchained by wiggy Grudge-style spectral waifs, says it all. Most divas — Yo Madgesty comes to mind — would be content to get the seduction right, but the liberal sprinkling of Peaches’ imperfect raps gives you a taste of why she has stood the test of time. She’s the dutifully iconoclastic daughter of Madonna. She’s also mother superior to legions of raw solo geeks who want to kick it roughly, bravely at center stage. "I drink the whiskey neat /You lick my crow’s feet," Peaches coos on "Trick and Treat." A proper lady Madonna would never be quite so frank about her age or sexuality.

And few can scheme up a playground chant-turned-pop tune like Peaches, whose school kid yelps on "Show Stopper" — "Show stopper, panty dropper /Everybody’s favorite shocker … I’m a stage whore /I command the floor /Rock you harder than a martyr in a holy war /Can’t help but engage you /Never mind my age /It’s like breaking out of a cage" — dare you to call her ODP (Ol’ Dirty Peaches). Peaches may not have the smoothest flow in the room, but does anyone brave the muddy psychosexual rapids of identity and abandonment quite like her? Call this Electra clash, Oedipus.

PEACHES

June 5, 9 p.m., $25–$27

Grand Ballroom at Regency Center

Van Ness and Sutter, SF

(415) 673-5716

www.goldenvoice.com

“Desiree Holman: Reborn”

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0

REVIEW It’s time to dance — to sashay from the video installation within Nick Cave’s "Meet Me at the Center of the Earth" at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts to the video aspect of Desirée Holman’s part of the SECA exhibition, now in its last days at San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. To hustle between the two is revealing. Not only do Cave and Holman share an irreverent interest in choreography and the unity or community that can spring from mutual movement, they also devote considerable creative energy to costuming. Most compelling of all, these strange kin tap into and surrealistically subvert (in Holman’s case) or explode (in Cave’s instance) conventions regarding race relations in the early Obama era. Think about it. Dance to this.

Closer to the Tenderloin at Jessica Silverman Gallery, Holman turns her attention to the feminine and maternal in "Reborn," a solo show that, much like her SFMOMA contribution, mixes drawings, mask-making (or more precisely here, doll-making), and video involving choreography. Holman’s drawings for the exhibition are as sickly they are lovely — a woman’s split ends take on a windswept weeping willow quality. In the alluring yet disgusting series of images, milk spills from mothers’ mouths as they nurse unsettlingly complacent babies. The video Reborn, nestled perversely in the cement block back room — or should I say back womb? — of Silverman Gallery, mines comedy and the type of incipient frustration that can grow into rage. It does so via games of duck-duck-goose, hummed lullabies, and the occasional bedazzled burka.

DESIRÉE HOLMAN: REBORN

Through May 30. Tues.-Sat., 11 a.m.-6 p.m. Silverman Gallery, 804 Sutter, SF. (415) 255-9508. www.silverman-gallery.com

Appetite: Sticky toffee, casual clambake, Mama mia, Jimmy the Greek. and more

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0

Each week, Virginia Miller of personalized itinerary service and monthly food, drink, and travel newsletter, www.theperfectspotsf.com, shares foodie news, events, and deals. View the last installment here.

Martins0509aa.jpg
Scottish Eggs, Chips & Pastie at Martins West. Photo by Chris Andre

———–

NEW RESTAURANT and BAR OPENINGS

Martins West helps you wash down fine eats
Time to trek down South (the Peninsula, that is) to Redwood City for this week’s hot opening, Martins West Pub. The original Martins is in Edinburgh… this locale is an homage to that gastropub (I’ll admit, an overused term) where comfort, hand-crafted beers, and hearty food meet seasonal, gourmet sensibilities. Like the beer, cocktails and scotch selections are extensive so you can wash down Michael Dotson’s (of Tahoe’s Plumpjack Cafe) quality "pub grub" (think Ploughman’s lunch, herb-crusted marrow bones or house-made charcuterie). Pastry Chef, Kelly Fields (of Sens and some of New Orleans best restaurants) stays sweet with sticky toffee pudding, drunken raisin ice cream or hot toddy pot de creme. Inside the 1896 Alhambra building, once a theater and saloon, you’ll feel the spirit of Wyatt Earp, who used to frequent the place while his wife, Josie, sang from the adjoining theater. Belly up to the 25-foot bar, boys!
831 Main Street, Redwood City
650-366-4366
www.martinswestgp.com

Otoro0509.jpg
Sake bar at Otoro Sushi. Photo by Virgina Miller

Tiny but chic Otoro Sushi makes three in Hayes Valley
Hayes Valley already hasSebo and Domo for impeccable sushi, but why not one more? A couple blocks away from the heart of Hayes, lunch and dinner of the fresher kind can be had at tiny but chic Otoro, just opened a few days ago. I’ve already enjoyed a generously-portioned lunch and look forward to more. There’s a snug, eight-seat sushi bar, sake bar and a handful of tables, with plenty of sashimi, udon, and rolls like the Hip Hop Roll, topped with garlic white tuna.
205 Oak Street
415-553-3986

Fly Bar debuts in Brick space with pizza and video games
Brick morphs into a Fly, or rather, into sister location to ever-popular Fly on Divisadero. Responding to the times with nothing over $12, Fly Bar will surely win some fans. A 4:30-6:30pm Happy Hour offers drink specials and half-price pizzas (like Southwestern or Jimmy the Greek), while the usual menu means apps, pizzas and sandwiches galore. Playful cocktails are only $7-8 at full price, like Island Root Beer (dark rum, Abita root beer and house-made ginger syrup), or Scrum: Boddington’s with a shot of Jameson. Sneak to the back room for a four-player arcade, snazzed up with cup holders and free games! It’s good to reinvent oneself from time to time.
1085 Sutter Street
415-441-4232

Short-sighted solar

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5

By Tim Redmond

The supervisors voted yesterday to continue for one week the proposal to let a private company build a solar plant on the Sunset reservoir. I’m glad the supes didn’t approve the project, but a week’s delay isn’t enough. This contract has real problems, and needs to be sent back to committee for a complete overhaul.

Harvey Rose, the supervisors budget analyst, pointed out one flaw that he urged the board not to accept: The deal would require the supes to waive their right to oversee annual appropriations for the project, essentially locking the city into spending money on it every year for the next 25 years.

The Sierra Club is pushing this, arguing that right now the city doesn’t have the money and only a private contactor can make this sort of project happen. I disagree: The city has the ability to float bonds for a project like this, and a solar bond act would pass by about 75 percent in San Francisco, and if local officials think there’s no way to lverage some federal money for this, they aren’t trying hard enough.

In fact, the appropriations deal means that the city will be financing the project, anyway, for all practical purposes. The vendor, Recurrent Energy, wants to use the contractual guarantee of annual funding to convince lenders to support the project.

Why is San Francisco so insistent on letting the private sector run our energy business? Oh, I can think of one reason: I see campaign video now.

“Gavin Newsom built the largest solar energy project in any American city — without taxypayer money.”

Great campaign line when you’re running for governor. And by the time the taxpayers actually get stuck with the bill, this mayor will be long gone.

“Dean Smith: thought forms 2003-2009” and “Dean Byington”

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0

REVIEW Call it the tumbling dice effect: dice keep appearing within Bay Area art this spring. First there was the gigantic 16-sided polygon by Brian Wasson at Ping Pong Gallery — a prediction device freed from its Magic Eight ball. Now viewers can roll with enigmas of a dice-centered video installation that is the most intriguing facet of Kent and Kevin Young’s "Jury Breaks DNA Deadlock" exhibition at Steven Wolf Gallery. They can also stare deep into a large-scale C-print of a many-sided die that doubles as a calendar in Matt Keegan’s show at Altman-Siegel Gallery, "Postcards & Calendars." Yet the best invocation of chance and rolling dice takes place just out of sight — or does it? — in a knockout piece within Dean Smith’s "thought forms 2003-2009" at Gallery Paule Anglim. Smith’s 2005 colored-pencil drawing thought form #11, from 2005, was generated by repeatedly rolling a tetrahedron. Smith’s process renders an object — a meta-die — that is both two-dimensional and three-dimensional, and that ultimately collapses or blooms free from dimensionality. The piece’s shades of blue make this state of play a flirtation with the sublime.

The dice games mentioned above are something different from the clichéd forest animals and color-theory rainbows that invaded Bay Area art during stretches of the last decade, or the skulls that took over Artforum in the wake of Damien Hirst’s For the Love of God (2007) and Don Ed Hardy’s mass-production of tattoo imagery — they aren’t trendy gestures so much as chance manifestations. Smith’s thought form #11 is one expression within a multiyear project that yields ever-changing graphite on paper works and video. The pieces at Paule Anglim span from 2003 to 2008 and evoke everything from space ships or outer space community outposts to totems and medieval devices, while never remaining stuck in specificity. They’re well-paired with a one-room, four-piece show by Dean Byington, whose oil-on-linen extensions of collage are a Beatrix Potter-meets-Brueghel-in-paradise hallucinatory delight. "Oh my god, this is all diamonds!" a young girl exclaimed upon looking closely at one of Byington’s works, which seem like minimalist experiments with color from a distance. Step in closer and you’ll discover endless mountains, forests, and quarries; caves with cute yet unsettlingly prison-like windows carved into their sides; stacks of stalagmites; and greenhouses that resemble giant Cartier eggs. Oh, and the occasional strange half-fox half-rodent. Be sure to say hi.

DEAN SMITH: THOUGHT FORMS 2003-09 and DEAN BYINGTON Through Sat/2. Wed-Fri, 10 a.m.-5:30 p.m.; Sat, 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Gallery Paule Anglim, 14 Geary, SF. (415) 433-2710. www.gallerypauleanglim.com

Newsom video, corrected

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By Tim Redmond

Gavin Newsom went to Sacramento this weekend to once again take credit for what others (particularly Assemblymember Tom Ammiano) have done.

But at least there’s a video now that corrects the record. Check it out.

Ask a Porn Star: Wendy Williams on straight lust and sex objects

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1

In which super sexy porn people answer questions — each week — from Bay Area locals. View the last installment here
By Justin Juul

wenwil10409a.jpg

Fielding your questions this month is AVN’s current “Transsexual Performer of The Year,” Wendy Williams. Check out some of her stuff and then send some questions here.

SFBG: You’re known for using blogs and video diaries to develop and maintain a really intimate relationship with your fans. Can you tell us a little about them? Are they mostly straight men?

Williams: Yeah, they are. You gotta understand that my fans are attracted to the feminine qualities they see in me and that many of them just consider the dick to be a fetish. Transsexual porn has a very divided fan base, actually. For example, there are people who want to see the transsexual as a bottom only. For them, the fact that she has a dick is just kind of a best-of-both-worlds thing. They would never do it in real life, but they like to see it. I don’t know what that means as far as sexual orientation goes, but I do know that most of my fans identify as straight men. They’re never gonna go to a gay bar and try to pick up guys because they’re not attracted to masculine qualities. They like long hair, breasts, and asses. Obviously, since I have a cock, there’s some question about their actual straightness, but that really doesn’t matter. I’m sure I have bi-sexual fans and I’m sure there are people out there who just want to fuck anything with legs. Whatever. I don’t believe in rigid labels.

SFBG: Yeah, the lines always get blurry when you really start to look at this stuff. I think smart people view sexuality as a continuum that shifts around throughout life. The labels don’t really fit anyone perfectly.
Williams: Yeah, it’s hard not to use the labels sometimes though. I mean, it’s pretty obvious that transsexual porn is marketed to and made for a straight male audience. Ask any gay guy if he’s attracted to transsexuals and you’ll get the same sort of answer: “God, no! I don’t want titties on my back. That’s disgusting!” Transsexuals and drag queens have a place in the gay community, but we’re not sex objects. We are a form of entertainment.

Movie mania: “Reflections” and Kuchar brothers

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0

By Johnny Ray Huston

The next two nights bring a pair of great treats for movie maniacs. Tonight, Gallery Paule Anglim hosts “Reflections,” a program of short films that includes ones by Pat O’Neill, Stan Brakhage, a rarely-seen James Whitney work, and some Tarkovsky. At the heart of the program are selections from Dean Smith‘s ongoing video project thought forms. If Smith’s drawings are any indication — and they should be — his contribution to the evening alone should be worth the trip. Smith’s current exhibition is one of the best I’ve seen this year, and even better when paired with Dean Byington‘s painted reconfiguring of collage aesthetics in an adjoining room at the gallery.

thought.jpg
Dean Smith, thought form #11, 2005, colored pencil on paper, 37.5 by 50 inches
georgeandmike.jpg
Mike and George Kuchar, from the documentary It Came From Kuchar

Friday night, Baer Ridgway is home to an hour-long program of films by the Kuchar brothers. (That last sentence deserves a !!! ending more than standard punctuation.) George is showing Jamboree Journey and Portrait of Genie. Mike is showing four movies: Vortex, Stolen Sweets, Tattle Tales, and Witchery. I got a lucky peek at one of Mike’s recent movies a month ago, a romantic idyll as gorgeous as its leading man and leading lady — love at first sight stuff. Wanna be where the cinematic fun is? Be there. And it’s free.

REFLECTIONS
Thurs/23, 7:30 p.m.
Gallery Paule Anglim
14 Geary, SF
(415) 433-2710
www.gallerypauleanglim.com

FILM SCREENING: GEORGE KUCHAR AND MIKE KUCHAR
Fri/24, 7 p.m., free
Baer Ridgway Exhibitions
172 Minna, SF
(415) 777-1366
www.baerridgway.com

SF Weekly’s anti-porn prude

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By Tim Redmond

422kink.jpg

The New York Post — whoops, it was actually the SF Weekly — was shocked and horrified by the concept that a state-funded training program might help video tech folks who work at kink.com. Here’s the lead:

California taxpayers have paid $46,791 so that employees of the San Francisco pornographer Kink.com might produce more perfect web-based depictions of motorized dildo impalements …

I don’t need to go on.

The thing here is, so what? Kink.com is a legitimate, legal San Francisco business that employs 100 people, treats them and pays them well, has transformed a wasteland of an empty building into a going concern … and I think it’s great that the people who work there (who also happen to be part of the film and media industry in San Francisco) got to use a state job-training program.

This is good for the local economy. “We are training San Francisco’s workforce for the film and televison industry,” said Kink’s Ilana Rothman. “People who have worked for us are winning awards at film festivals.”

The story is remarkable in its prudishness, and it takes the insulting tack of implying that the models who work at Kink are somehow forced into their jobs. “We couldn’t be more explicit about how safe and consensual our work is,” Rothman told me. And every indication I’ve gotten from every Guardian staffer who’s visited Kink and talked to the workers agrees.

The real scandal here is that Matt Smith personally busted Kink and cost a good employer its training money.

Ammiano for governor?

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11

By Tim Redmond

I don’t see why not — after all, Tom Ammiano as a supervisor was responsible for the two main accomplishments Mayor Gavin Newsom takes credit for in his slick campaign video.

Newsom says that San Francisco is “well on our way to universal health care.” Yes, that’s true — and it’s because Ammiano — with zero help from Newsom — pushed through the Healthy San Francisco law.

The mayor also claims that the city’s bond rating is up and that San Francisco is relatively fiscally sound because of the Rainy Day Fund. Again — that was Ammiano’s bill, and Newsom did absolutely nothing to help pass it.

“He want to be the governor of appropriations, because he appropriates everyone else’s ideas,” Ammiano told me.

Truthfully, Newsom has very little in the way of actual accomplishments (except for same-sex marraige, which is a major accomplishment he can take a lot of credit for, but isn’t pushing and doesn’t even mention in his campaign video.)

What a fucking fraud.

Distractions: Seth Rogen, age 13

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By Molly Freedenberg

I’m not a huge Seth Rogen fan. He’s charming enough, I guess, and I always have a soft spot for Jewish actors who aren’t conventionally attractive (Jason Schwartzman and Woody Allen, I’m talking to you). But since I am neither a 17-year-old boy nor a stoner, Rogen’s comedies simply don’t do much for me; hence, neither does he.

However, I’ve developed a new affection for him after stumbling across a video of him performing stand-up as a teenager on one of my favorite time suck sites, www.idontlikeyouinthatway.com. In the video, he’s surprisingly confident and funny for his age. Plus, he’s taking shots at Judaism — a sure way to warm this semi-Semite’s heart.

I’m still not going to see Observe and Report, or probably ever finish more than 20 minutes of Knocked Up. But when he gets a little older and starts doing more comedian-turned-serious-actor stints (a la Jim Carrey in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind), I might actually buy a ticket to see him rather than watching his film for free via www.sidereel.com. Nice job, 13-year-old Seth. You’ve (almost) caught yourself a nice (almost) Jewish girl. At least, as a possible fan.

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