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Artsy Monday, Boozy Tuesday

Monday, February 8th, 2010 by Jimmy Fowler

Now that another work week has begun, how will you cope? The Fort’s contemporary theater troupe Amphibian Productions comes to the rescue. Monday (February 8), check out their 7pm staged reading of Lanie Robertson’s “Woman Before a Glass” at the Modern. This one woman show concerns Peggy Guggenheim, the wealthy New York art collector (her daddy drowned with the Titanic in 1912; her uncle established the Guggenheim Foundation) whose dear friends included Cocteau, Picasso, Kandinsky, Duchamp, Brancusi, Dali, and Pollock. She also had an affair with Samuel Beckett, which sounds like more fun that it probably was.

Then on Tuesday (February 9), join the ‘Phibs and their friends for February’s ”Celebrity Bartending at Grace” event. Amphibian company members Carman Lacivita, Jonathan Fielding, and Elizabeth Mason will be your mixologists 5-7pm. Proceeds go to support local theater. When it comes to pouring alcohol, actors have tricky wrists, or so the legend goes – their highballs will flatten you like a California rock slide.

FW Director Wins Top Prize

Sunday, February 7th, 2010 by Jimmy Fowler

Congrats to Fort Worth writer-director Tom Huckabee for winning ”Best Narrative Feature” at this weekend’s seventh annual Oxford Film Festival in Mississippi for his dark comedy ”Carried Away.” (“The Scenesters,” co-starring the Keller, TX-raised actor-writer Kevin Brennan, took runner-up in that competition).

“Carried Away,” shot in Tarrant County and the California desert, follows a young director (Gabriel Horn) who returns home from California to rescue his stroke-patient grandmother (Juli Erickson) from her nursing home “prison” and the clutches of his dysfunctional Texas family. The film’s score was provided by local twisted Americana faves The Theater Fire.

FW Artists and Disciples

Thursday, February 4th, 2010 by Jimmy Fowler

This week’s ”Art” page profiles Drew Snyder, a 24 year old painter and Fort Worth native who opened an art gallery in the small beach community of Leucadia in northern San Diego County, California. It’s barely an exaggeration to say that he considers it his young life’s mission to promote Fort Worth-raised artists like Zack Hawkins, Ben Groff, John and Steven Hook, himself, and Ron Tomlinson on the West Coast.

The link, other than Cowtown, is that Snyder, Hawkins, Groff, and the Hooks all studied with legendary FW painter Tomlinson. The website for Snyder’s Andrews Gallery features a large collection of canvas images by all six painters. It’s interesting to compare how the younger painters took Tomlinson’s vision and techniques and moved in different directions with them. The fancy word “liminal” – which means existing between two spaces or two realities — has been used to describe Tomlinson’s sometimes eerie portraits and still lifes. The more you look at them, the more that makes sense.

Jubilee in Phoenix

Wednesday, February 3rd, 2010 by Jimmy Fowler

Here’s a round of applause for Jubilee Theatre artistic director Ed Smith and Fort Worth actor/frequent Jubilee collaborator Aaron Petit. The Black Theatre Troupe of Phoenix, AZ has invited Smith to direct and Petit to star in their staging of Romulus Linney’s “A Lesson Before Dying,” which opens February 18.

FW theater audiences got to see Smith’s discerning take on this harrowing play – which concerns a reluctant schoolteacher assigned to teach an illiterate young death row inmate how to value his own life during its final weeks – exactly two years ago this month on the Jubilee stage. That show earned Mandel Hill – who played the teacher – a best actor award in the “Weekly”’s 2008 “Best Of” issue. Petit is known around these parts as a resourceful comic actor, so we’re curious to read the notices he gets in Phoenix for playing the wrongly condemned, rage-filled prisoner.

Breaking News: Taylor Swift Sucks

Monday, February 1st, 2010 by Jimmy Fowler

Like most of America in September 2009, I was harrumphing about what an asshole Kanye West was for interrupting sweet urchin Taylor Swift’s MTV VMA-winning moment. After watching her performance on last night’s Grammy telecast, I now see that West had a point.

I was clued in to Swift’s painful amateurishness a couple of months ago when I first saw that award-winning video for “You Belong With Me.” It was overly packaged and “cute” in the torturous sense of the word. Even studio enhancements couldn’t hide her small, tinny voice. Miley Cyrus sounds like Janis Joplin in comparison.

Fast forward to last night’s Grammys – Taylor’s vocals during the showcase set with Stevie Nicks were loud, flat, and so excruciating even Nicks seemed to flinch. Swift sounded like the Sueleen Gay character in Altman’s “Nashville.” But wait, say the excessively chivalrous – she’s only 20, and needs time to master her musical gifts. Then why the fuck is she winning top honors during the U.S. commercial recording industry’s most important awards night? If songwriting is her primary strength – and the jury is still out on that – then she needs to sweep the ASCAP awards instead.

Last year, an extraordinary 22 year old British singer-songwriter named Adele won Best New Artist and Best Female Pop Vocals with her sophisticated soul and jazz inflections. Apparently, not all Grammy voters are driven by some combination of hype and misguided sympathy, but those who are long ago made these awards a joke among serious music lovers. As one anti-Taylor Swift blog post noted: “It’s a good thing for her they listen with their eyes instead of their ears.”

They Got Bruce

Friday, January 29th, 2010 by Jimmy Fowler

Trust us, there is nothing more interesting to do in the Fort tonight than attend Q Cinema’s reception, screening and afterparty for the indie comedy ”Oy Vey! My Son is Gay!” We can’t vouch for the movie itself, but Q has brought in one of the film’s co-stars who also happens to be a totally original figure in American pop culture – Emmy winning writer-actor-public wit Bruce Vilanch.

It’s impossible to do justice to Vilanch’s eclectic four-decade career as a comedy writer here. He’s scribbled jokes for the good (many telecasts of the Oscars, the Emmys, and the Tonys), the bad (“The Donnie & Marie Show”), and the ugly (1978’s “The ‘Star Wars’ Holiday Special,” featuring Bea Arthur, Harvey Korman, and Jefferson Starship). He’s written stage material for Richard Pryor, Lily Tomlin, Bette Midler, Whoopi Goldberg, and Billy Crystal (the latter three are confirmed fans of his). A 1999 documentary feature, “Get Bruce,” chronicled his extensive behind-the-scenes contributions to American comedy since the 1970s.

As a talk show guest and former longtime columnist for “The Advocate,” Vilanch is a classically trenchant social observer in the tradition of Dorothy Parker and Fran Leibowitz, though with more of a populist touch. All this is to say – can we put any more pressure on the poor guy when he appears at tonight’s Q Cinema reception and film (6:30pm at the Rose Marine) and afterparty (9:30pm at Grace)? Tix for the whole shebang are $35.

The Carter Family “Brand”

Wednesday, January 27th, 2010 by Jimmy Fowler

Many of the great world religions teach that we are each put on this earth to learn an important lesson. For young Amon “Chance” Carter IV, that lesson appears to be – if someone puts a hot iron to your ass, it’s going to leave a messy, painful scar. (This is not a Zen koan or a Christian parable. It’s what happened to Carter).

Local media outlets are reporting the outrage that the Carter family feels because Chance got the Stockyards treatment while on vacation in Colorado with his TCU frat buddies. The college sophomore admits he allowed himself to be branded, but, well, he didn’t know that such a big, ugly, painful scar would appear on his keister. His father, Amon Carter III, has retained a lawyer to hold someone in the fraternity responsible – someone besides his son, a legal adult who volunteered to bend over in a booze haze and have a friend press a molten piece of iron against his gluteus maximus.

Chance looks like a nice kid. And we’ve all done stupid things in our young adult years. Personally, I knew by the age of, say, 12 that having my butt branded with a scorching insignia would be a bad thing, but no judgments here, people. My life’s lesson apparently involves something other than hot metal plus ass flesh equals horrible scar. By the way Chance’s family is reacting, though, it looks like learning about accountability is a ways off for him.

“Whip It” Good

Wednesday, January 27th, 2010 by Jimmy Fowler

Just finished watching the new-on-DVD-and-download flick ”Whip It” – Drew Barrymore’s directorial debut – and I loved it. This one has loads of hip-checking charisma delivered by an ensemble of female performers with total commitment to the smart, funny, and bruising aspects of the project.

The plot concerns a small town Texas girl (Ellen Page) who goes behind the back of her beauty pageant-obsessed mother (Marcia Gay Harden, locating the sympathy in a potentially grotesque caricature) to join an all-female Austin roller derby team called The Hurl Scouts. Members have rink handles like “Eva Destruction,” “Bloody Holly,” “Rosa Sparks,” and “Iron Maven.” (The latter belongs to Juliette Lewis, who nicely modulates the ever-present skank factor to play a merciless derby veteran/villain with smirky relish).

“Whip It” manages to subvert cloying princess “entitlement fantasy” movies and amoeba-brained “triumph of the underdog” sports films by weaving them into a bold, slightly androgynous hybrid. It’s predictable but still has its own dogged personality. It has the stick-to-your-heart cult worthiness of teen flicks like “Valley Girl,” “Fast Times at Ridgemont High,” and “Sixteen Candles” – on hard-charging wheels, of course.

In the lead role, the soulful, sardonic Ellen Page easily outdoes her work in the overrated “Juno”—not surprising, since she doesn’t have Diablo Cody’s preposterous prefab slang to weigh her down here. Newbie director Drew Barrymore has quite a bit to learn about pacing and dramatic tension – but then so does Quentin Tarantino, and that hasn’t hurt his curiously long career. (I saw “Inglorious Basterds” last week – what a smug, lethargic mess). “Whip It” overcomes its storytelling deficiencies with a bevy of glittering, tough-and-tender performances.

“A Dirty Shame” Redux

Friday, January 22nd, 2010 by Jimmy Fowler

The Sundance Channel has screened John Waters’ underappreciated 2004 comedy “A Dirty Shame” several times over the past month. (Another showing is scheduled January 31). Unfortunately, they have so far played the “neuter” version – the heavily redubbed copy that once-upon-a-time rental powerhouse Blockbuster would only carry at the time of the DVD release – rather than the original theatrical cut that got slapped with an NC-17. The neuter version is so lame it’s unwatchable, at times rendered nonsensical from the editing.

A friend and John Waters fan urged me to buy a cheap copy of the NC-17 version. I downloaded a ten buck file from Amazon, and I have to say – what a difference a whole bunch of dirty words and the occasional flash of full frontal nudity makes. The dirtiest version of “A Dirty Shame” hilariously blends Waters’ almost clinical interest in sexual fetishes with his boundless affection for outsiders, working-class eccentrics, and 1950s novelty pop tunes. The movie is slow to get going and has no real plot, but a cast of enthusiastic actors with top-shelf comic timing delivers an endless barrage of the writer-director’s smutty but very quotable lines.

Before you go to the trouble of checking out the “hardcore” version, you should probably know my take on Waters’ films. My three favorites are “Female Trouble,” “Polyester,” and “Hairspray,” with “Shame” now closing in. I think “Pink Flamingos” is his most overrated, and “Cecil B. Demented” is hands down his worst. I love Divine and Edith Massey, but Mink Stole, David Lochary, Mary Vivian Pearce, and Cookie Mueller don’t do much for me. I happen to think Waters’ best early scripts would’ve benefited from the technical polish and professional actors he later used on all his work. If this hews closely to your opinions, then “A Dirty Shame” might be for you.

After Kathleen Turner nearly ruined “Serial Mom” with her condescending performance, the great Tracey Ullman proves that an actress can do and say every freaky thing John Waters asks of her and somehow come out looking more dignified. (The third season of Ullman’s virtuosic Showtime sketch show ”State of the Union” is about to begin, BTW). Ullman plays Sylvia Stickles, a sexually frigid woman whose daughter Caprice (Selma Blair) performs under the name “Ursula Udders” at biker bars after getting ludicrously big breast implants. Sylvia’s perpetually offended mother Big Ethel (Suzanne Shepard from “The Sopranos,” who is tearfully funny here) runs a convenience store and organizes a decency rally to protest the bears, lesbians, swingers, flashers, and assorted fetishists taking over the neighborhood. Sylvia gets a head concussion and becomes a rampaging sex addict as well as the twelfth disciple of – I kid you not — a Christ-like libertine named Ray Ray (Johnny Knoxville), who’s determined to create a new sex act that will save humankind.

The major pleasures of “A Dirty Shame” are its memorable one liners delivered memorably, and they are plentiful: “Don’t you find it strange that every man in this neighborhood has a penis?” “Sylvia, you have what doctors call ‘a runaway vagina.’” “Someone left a dildo in my bird bath.” “It’s diversity, not depravity.” “I’m no prude. I married an Italian.” “My husband is Viagravated. He wants it every night.”/”He has no right to be that hard!” “You were convicted of nude loitering, nude and disorderly conduct, nude drunken driving…”/”I was not drunk, I was on pills!”

Again, go for the original NC-17 version, not the heavily edited dreck that’s playing on Sundance. And, as usual, only confirmed Waters fans should apply.

A 2010 Stage Sked

Thursday, January 21st, 2010 by Jimmy Fowler

Fort Worth’s top four small theater groups have announced most of their 2010 schedules by now, and the offerings look unusually scrumptious. I don’t know how much the long national mood of unrest and pessimism has influenced season planners, but upcoming dramas and comedies are heavy with nagging questions about family stability, world history, and the ability of the individual to create meaningful change. (There are some nicely idiosyncratic musical revues, too).

Check out these skeds for Stage West, Circle Theatre, Jubilee Theatre, and Amphibian Productions. Then, make a late New Year’s resolution: “See more theater.” Your local starving stage rats will thank you.


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