Seattle Blog Reviews

Review of Landscape of the Body at UW School of Drama by Sam H-A.Photo by Frank RosensteinThe stage is dark except for one guardrail. A woman stands, feverishly looking over her shoulder, frantically writing on sheets of paper. Stuffing them in a bottle. Throwing them over the edge. A man comes up behind her and you are swept up in a conversation that has no meaning to you. Words like "confession" and "yes." Short and curt. Until the woman finally blows up. Launching into a monologue about her son. Blackout. We switch settings to an interrogation room. We soon find out the woman is a suspect in her son's murder. Another woman, with a voice from "above" is talking now. Explaining everything that's going on. Her death, her nephew's death. You are then launched into a story of love, loss, heartbreak, and sorrow. Laughter. Tears. All while finding out the gut-wrenching past history of Bert, a teenage boy from Maine whose mother is mourning the loss of her sister while trying to raise him. All the while--in the present--she's trying to find out who murdered and decapitated him. Seems gory, right? It's not. Beautifully staged and incredibly acted, director L. Zane tells this heart-wrenching story beautifully, and this show will definitely bring you to tears of laughter, joy, and sorrow. Landscape of the BodyUW School of DramaMeany Studio TheatreThrough November 18Watch the Landscape of the Body video:

PNB's All Premiere showcases four world premiere works on one program. Although it seems rather ambitious, the ballet company manages to pull together four distinctly beautiful pieces.

Seattle Shakespeare Company’s Antony and Cleopatra is the young Arnold Schwarzenegger of theater: it’s dramatic, sexy, romantic, it sounds kind of funny, and it sure knows how to pack an awesome punch. In terms of all other plays I have seen prior to this, Antony and Cleopatra is truly the full package. It does for theater what Carmen does for the world of musical performance.

Friday, October 19th marked the first of the Seattle Symphony’s ‘Untuxed’ Series, and it will definitely not be the last. Waiting for the musicians to enter the stage, I had forgotten about the ‘Untuxed’ part of the concert and was taken aback by the wash of colors that flooded the stage. The normal-but-still-nice clothing donned by the musicians made the atmosphere much more comfortable than with their usual formal attire. I loved it – it made the entire performance relaxed and enjoyable. It’s hard to understand why they don’t do every performance this way.

ALERT: THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS. CONTINUE AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Review of Something's Afoot at Taproot Theatre by Katie M. Taproot Theatre is continuing their 35th anniversary season with a fantastic production. Something’s Afoot can best be described as a murder mystery musical filled with quirky characters and lively songs. The play is set in the 1930s, and the sets and costumes reflect that time period. Lord Rancour’s lakeside estate is well furnished by scenic designer Mark Lund, providing a great backdrop for the story.

Photo by CeeDotA on flickr

The improvathon that's going on right now at the Market Theater is definitely a blast. Some of the performers had been going for a full 24 hours when I saw them, and a lot of them are pretty (totally, completely) zonked. As such, the improv that they're doing is a lot looser and freer-form than you usually see at Unexpected Productions. This means that they're willing to fly higher and try weird, crazy stuff, but sometimes in improv stuff does come crashing down to the ground. Such is occasionally the case with these skits. It's a different feel than usual in general, too--the audience and performers are constantly coming in and out, and new faces come to the stage frequently. In a lot of ways, it's like falling into some sort of weird improv dreamspace where very strange things happen and stuff is constantly changing around. And with improv, that can be pretty cool--it leads to sketches entitled "Cats Gone Wild" or "Mega-Death Yawwwrp," or frantic experiences with 20-pound zucchinis. As we all know, things like that should never, ever be missed. Above all though, it's a fundraiser for the Market Theatre, where some of the best and strangest weird stuff in the city arts-wise happens. So it's definitely worth the time and money to come down and kill a few hours seeing what improv, enthusiasm, and extreme exhaustion all team up to create in the final hours of the improvathon. The 50-Hour Improvathon is over, but you can catch TheatreSports every Friday & Saturday night at the Market Theatre. More info at unexpectedproductions.org.

Photo by Angela Sterling

When the sun is shining and the thermometers around town finally crack 70 degrees, it may not seem entirely intuitive to go see a very dark ballet about betrayal, death, and supernatural vengeance. Sure, while you’re sitting in a dark, cool, enclosed space, you could be out water skiing or sunbathing. But the fact is that while summer comes only three months of the year in Seattle, the Pacific Northwest Ballet’s Giselle is here for only two weeks, and it is not to be missed under any circumstances. The last show of their season and a completely new staging by Peter Boal of the classic work, Giselle is captivating and entrancing.

There are bad movies. There are really bad movies. There are movies that you thought would be enjoyable, but turn out bad. Then there are movies that you had high hopes for, are actually so terrible that they slap you in the face for ever believing they might be worthwhile. Detention is one such film. What Detention aims to be and what it actually ends up being are two very different things. Billed as a witty sendup of nearly every teen movie being made, it promises to be both a quirky parody as well as a horror movie. True to form, the writers seem to have worked hard to mock every teenage movie known to man in less than an hour and a half. References to teen classics are both endless and heavy-handed. I could have saved the writers some time in developing Detention: rather than go to all the effort of actually writing a story, they could have simply loaded the screenplays of Freaky Friday, Ten Things I Hate About You, The Breakfast Club, and Friday the Thirteenth into a gun, fired the gun, and then picked up the pieces at random. They would have ended up with a script of about the same caliber of meaningless drivel. The simple fact is that Detention is prey to every imaginable pitfall in a teen movie. The acting is terrible, the direction is schizophrenic, the plot is simultaneously vapid, ridiculous, and convoluted, and the cliché is laid on so heavily that the actors appear to have actual difficulty standing up. While it is true that in teen movies these are all forgivable offenses, the biggest sin of Detention is that it simply does not have anything to say. As a film and a parody it is soulless; even spoofs need to offer their own insight and take on the world. All Detention does is merely giggle at and plagiarize other movies, without offering anything original. To be blunt, this movie can definitely be passed over in your forays through SIFF. There are some real gems in this year’s festival, and they are not to be missed. Detention is true to its title in that being there is certainly a punishment. My best advice is to do like the cool kids: cut Detention and go see something Swedish. (…That’s what cool kids do, right?) DETENTION Part of Seattle International Film Festival Playing at: Neptune Theatre, June 3 at 9:30 PM Egyptian Theatre, June 5 at 9:15 PM More info at siff.net Recommended for Ages 17+ (contains bloody violence, nudity, and strong language)

To quote the all-wise and ever-helpful Sassy Gay Friend of YouTube fame, “What are you doing. What. What. What are you doing.” Right now, I hope that your answer to this question is not “Sitting at home on Facebook,” or “Watching reruns of Project Runway” (Mondo was robbed), because cool things are happening. Weird things. Funky things. Things that you are not quite sure the significance or meaning of, but that make you laugh all the same. Things with strange instruments. Things with dirt. These things are all often happening in their own right, but rarely do such auspicious events combine into one, funky, eclectic whole. Right now in Seattle, it has, in My Arm is Up in the Air, in the shoebox-like Studio Theater at On the Boards. The one-man, one-hour show stars Charles Smith, a long-time fixture of Seattle fringe theater. Smith certainly makes the most of his hour, and the show reaches in about a thousand different directions. Smith digs into his childhood, pop culture, and Seattle history. The aforementioned dirt comes into the picture when Smith discusses the 1916 Denny Regrade, which was at the time the largest earthworks ever. Seattle leaders decided that Denny Hill had been inconveniently placed by God and was blocking off the northern growth of the city, and so they decided to completely flatten it, to the surprise and anger of some local homeowners, who were stranded atop sudden towers of earth after refusing to abandon their property. As Smith discusses the regrade, dirt rains down from the ceiling, scattering across the stage and his body, as he revels in it. The numerous musical interludes that Smith scatters through the work are as funky as the monologues. Smith sings and plays on the hammered dulcimer, autoharp, and bowed psaltery, which I had never seen until that night and may never again. The songs, in numerous languages, often fail to live up to the rest of the play. Certainly they are a novelty, but they pale in comparison to Smith’s monologues. Words he plays like a master, but the music and singing lacked the same expertise and quality. Though the monologues are excellent, teenage patrons must be warned that some of the pop culture references in this show are obscure. Really obscure. Like before-1980 obscure, which as we all know is before the dawn of recorded history. I followed Smith through The Brady Bunch references, kept up with the Clinton administration jokes, but in some places just got plain lost. Advice to teenagers: laugh along with the thirty- and forty-somethings while nodding reminiscently when this happens. I will not remember My Arm is Up in the Air as the most interesting show I saw this year. Nor will I mark it as the funniest, wittiest, kookiest, craziest, most unexpected, beautiful, or fascinating show of 2011. To its credit, this is because it tries to do all these things, and it succeeds in defiantly being its own, little, weird self. My Arm is Up in the Air On the Boards FINAL NIGHT TONIGHT: Monday, March 28

When Marie Howe walks onstage, something tells you that she is a woman that you want to listen to. Maybe it is her amazingly, delightfully big hair, which seems to have a personality all of its own. Maybe it is her calm, collected manner, or her erudite sense of humor. Maybe she has figured out how to distill gravitas and perfumes herself with it. At any rate, she is captivating from the start, and so is her poetry. Howe does what any good poet must; her words are finely, exactly chosen, and her poems lead you where she wants you. She made us laugh, wonder, and most of all to delve deep into the mind and souls of her work. Howe writes predominantly in personae, many of them religious. Several of the poems she read that night were written from the perspective of the Virgin Mary, reflecting casually on the Annunciation. Howe certainly does not shy away from megalithic archetypes in her work; perhaps the most striking poem of the evening was her piece written as Eve, describing the moment after the Fall. This is where Howe truly shines. She has the ability to worm her way into the giants of our lore, myths, and tradition, and make them seem human. In no way did her work debase them to make them accessible, but in assuming the personae of figures such as Jesus, Mary Magdalene, and others, she was able to remind us that they were living, breathing people, too. When she speaks to you as Eve, it is not hard to imagine that you are simply having a cup of coffee with your friend over lunch, a conversation like any two people might have. Where society has elevated these characters beyond the stature of normal life, Howe’s poetry was able to casually reach up, bring them back down to earth, and to make them real. In doing so, Howe only makes their stories more powerful and more vivid. Tragically, Marie Howe has left Seattle and is back to doing whatever it is poets do during the work week (of all the great mysteries of life, poetry has yet to explain this one to me). However, other opportunities await. The poetry series at Seattle Arts and Lectures never fails to disappoint, and is not to be missed. Seeing Marie Howe and hearing her work took my brain in new directions, put words together in ways that had me nodding up and down, or laughing out loud, and my money’s on the fact that the next poet that SAL has in will too. Check it out—you’ll be glad you did. Maria Howe was a one night only event Next Up at Seattle Arts & Lectures' Poetry Series: Poetry Triple Threat with Brian Turner, Major Jackson & Susan Rich Thursday, April 14 @ 7:30 PM Benaroya Hall REMEMBER: Seattle Arts & Lectures events are ALWAYS FREE for Teen Tix members, and you can ALWAYS bring a guest for $5.00!

If the realization hits you about an hour into Cold Weather that absolutely nothing has happened yet, my best advice is to calmly collect your things and exit the theatre as unobtrusively and politely as possible. The bad news is that you’re dead right—nothing has happened. The worse news is that for the remaining hour or so, it only gets worse. I exaggerate a little. True, stuff happens in Cold Weather. The problem is that it happens at about intervals of about half an hour. And when it does happen, it is done in a manner that is so clichéd, contrived, and sophomoric that it’s almost worse than nothing happening at all. I spent large sections of this movie intently wondering if it would be more satisfying to drive an ice pick through my own head or the head of the grating main character Doug, who is as moronically ridiculous as he is coma-inducing. Even more regretfully, the two mildly interesting characters abruptly and inexplicably disappear for large sections of the film, leaving the audience like castaways on a desert island, desperately trying to find a way off Part of the problem may have been that I had high expectations for this film. Promotional materials touted it, saying “[Director Aaron Katz’s] coy and funny thriller keeps audiences guessing, while sharpening his singular cinematic style. Cinescope hailed it as ‘the greatest American film of the year,’ and we happen to agree.” After reading this and watching the actual film, I can really only come to the conclusion that we were either watching different movies, or that I am a complete and utter moron. However, I don’t think I’m alone, given that several other patrons got up and left in the middle of the movie. I envy them. The fact of the matter is that for every second of footage that might be remotely considered thrilling (if you squint really hard, maybe) there is about five solid minutes of absolutely nothing happening whatsoever. Director Aaron Katz must really, really, love making movies about people sitting in parked cars discussing topics that have absolutely nothing to do with the storyline, because he seems to have gone far out of his way to fill up this film with it. I have a long list in my head of things I could have done rather than see Cold Weather, running the gamut from “read a really interesting book,” to “write an angry and confused letter to Aaron Katz asking why he thinks we are so interested in watching people sit in parked cars.” In the meantime, I will be hanging on to my receipt for the movie, because I expect that when I die I will be able to get the time I spent watching the film subtracted from my sentence in Purgatory. I will be sure to let you know if Purgatory or Cold Weather is more interesting. P.S. Readers! Did you see this movie and agree that I am a complete and utter moron? Please tell me why, because I am mystified. Sincerely, Tucker. Cold Weather Northwest Film Forum Through March 17

Confession: At the start, I wasn’t really thrilled about doing this review. Don’t get me wrong—I think poetry is super-awesome and have zero problem with it, but it just wasn’t something that I normally would have gone to. Regardless, there I was, in Benaroya Hall on a Tuesday night, about to hear a poet that I previously knew nothing about. This, however, was not a huge problem. As it turned out, Patricia Smith is one of those special people who really require no introduction. From her first moments on stage, she was captivating. Her poetry can wax long but never frivolously. She is always in control of her words, and she reminds you of it. At points, the raw power of her words grabs you by your shoulders and flings you across the room into the wall. Her introduction described her style of writing as “trying on many pairs of shoes, seeing which ones are most uncomfortable, and making them dance.” And she did. The dance was not always pretty and simple. Her remembrances of racism growing up in Chicago and the brutality of life after Hurricane Katrina at times made us cringe, shifting our weight in our seats. This was the measure of her power as a poet; to make us look unflinchingly and directly at what we had previously only seen on television and in textbooks.

Photo © Seattle Poetry Slam on flickr

Sunday night at On the Boards, every seat in the house was packed in anticipation of the grand finale of The A.W.A.R.D. Show, a competition for Pacific Northwest choreographers. Twelve choreographers had entered, and for the previous three nights audiences had crowned a winner from among each group of four. Now, with the dirty work of selecting the finalists done, it was our job to sit back and enjoy an evening of spectacular dance before crowning the winner. And it was indeed spectacular.

Photo by Ben Kasulke

Tucker: When the curtain opens on Gloria’s Cause, you are really not sure what to expect. There is no description in the program of what you are about to see, and any descriptions you can find online are sketchy at best and vary wildly. This mystery grows more when the actors come out on stage long before the play begins. They stare at you. You are freaked out, a little. And when the play begins, two forms appear at the back of the stage. Here is what will happen in your head: “Wait. Are they naked? Uhhhh. They look naked. Yep, they are definitely naked. Okay.” And things just get better from there. Dana: The naked ladies leave pretty early on, and a sitting man begins a monologue while another actor stands center-stage eating pie. Other actors enter, exit, taking on different characters and personalities, breaking into rock songs or violent dance sequences. It’s not clear what’s going on, but you get the sense that it’s something big. Sometimes the actors are telling stories you recognize, but things don’t really fit. The word “freedom” is thrown around, and you begin to see that this show is about America. Maybe.

Soloist Chalnessa Eames in Afternoon Ball. Photo © Angela Sterling

If PNB’s All Tharp is any indication, Twyla Tharp is clearly a woman with a lot to say. You sit down in the theatre, the curtain goes up, and All Tharp proceeds to grab you and shake you around in every direction. Until last night, I had never seen ballet danced as though drunk, groups of dancers swooping across the stage dressed as synchronized swimmers, or dancers mouthing words that definitely cannot be written on this blog, screaming silently at a captivated audience. Tharp’s work is a creature truly and markedly set apart from any other. It is a blend of the traditional, of the movie and the theatre, of the hidden story and dance for the sake of dance.

I'm a 17 year old guy and I read every book. I am (only slightly) ashamed to say that I was at the midnight release party for Breaking Dawn at my local Barnes and Noble. I saw Eclipse at midnight. I own a Spanish translation of Twilight. And while this might usually qualify one as a crazy fangirl, I don't think of myself as one. For me, Twilight is like Cheetos. They're not filling, they're light and fluffy, and you can eat them pretty mindlessly. You also know deep in your mind that in the long run, it's probably bad for you to have them, but hey, what's another hand full, right? So when someone brings up Twilight, especially when it's a big, fat, angry argument for or against it, I just kind of laugh. Love it or hate it, Twilight is pretty ridiculous when you look at it. But really, it's just mental junk food, either way. And really, a little more can't hurt you, right? Right. Our Teen Press Corps will be telling us what Twilight makes them do all week long. Click here to read them all. Movies at the Mural SEATTLE CENTER Saturday, August 21st @ 9pm: Twilight Sunday, August 22nd @ 9pm: The Twilight Saga: New Moon Free!

(Tucker asked if, instead of posting his review, we could just put a big star on the blog with "Go See This" on it. We're doing both.) Really, really cool things continue to happen over at PNB. This time it’s 3 by Dove, three ballets (as the name would suggest) by the choreographer Ulysses Dove. Spliced in between is a new work commissioned for the PNB by Victor Quijada, Suspension of Disbelief.

Pacific Northwest Ballet soloist Rachel Foster in Ulysses Dove’s Vespers. Photo © Angela Sterling

Review of Sound Off! Semifinal 1, February 13th, 2010, by Jordan B. Showcasing the local music scene of the future, maybe even the present, Sound Off! began back in 2002 at the Experience Music Project in Seattle, designed for age 21 and under artists to have a place to get their name out. Many artists such as 2003 runner ups the Schoolyard Heroes and 2007's 2nd place winner, Natalie Portman's Shaved Head, have enjoyed some success from the competition's raising awareness of the bands. Tonight's winner, Candysound, received a spot in the upcoming finals on March 6th.

Sound Off! Semifinal #1 winners Candysound. Photo by adamsayswhatt

If the grey skies have got you down this winter, there’s a show in town for you. Pacific Northwest Ballet’s The Sleeping Beauty is the ultimate picker-upper; filled with fanciful and intricate sets and costumes, excitement, and breathtaking dance, Sleeping Beauty takes a hold of you and won’t let go until the curtain comes down.

Pacific Northwest Ballet principal dancers Lucien Postlewaite and Kaori Nakamura in Ronald Hynd’s The Sleeping Beauty. Photo © Angela Sterling.

The first thing that strikes you about Sleeping Beauty is the sets. The pages of a fairy tale seem truly to have come to life on McCaw Hall’s stage. The austere majesty of the castle, with soaring columns and enormous thrones, is enough to arrest your attention in itself. And when Aurora falls into her slumber, ivy and forests take over the castle, crawling magically from all corners. Sleeping Beauty’s scenery is made only the more beautiful by the costumes. The gowns are detailed beyond belief, flowing, and elegant. Inside of the dreamlike world that all of this creates, the dancers bring amazing new life and vivacity to an old story. At first, the dances of the fairies are whimsical, and happy. With carefree dances, the dancers bring you into the idyllic happiness of the story. And the choreography develops characters through dance—each of the fairies with their own temperament, Aurora’s majestic and graceful dances just before being cursed, and the dances of the many fairy tale characters at the end. Unfortunately, at some points along the way the choreography seems passionless, lacking the energy that the music evokes and that the dancers clearly wish to show. Often, you find yourself frustrated, waiting for the zeal and life that never fully comes. But all of this takes a complete back seat to the indisputable high point of the show, the pas de deux between Prince Florimund and Aurora. Their dance is tender and slow at first, but then the two then began a series of acrobatic lifts and twists that will have you literally on the edge of your seat and holding your breath. They defy gravity and description, with lifts and pirouettes. But most amazing about the dance is their sense of controlled power and strength, the very grace that ballet at its core is all about. Sleeping Beauty is a fairy tale brought to life, complete with all of the fancy, magic, and splendor it needs. And from start to end, you find yourself completely fallen into another world, far from the grey skies and drizzle outside the door. - Tucker C. February 4th, 2010 The Sleeping Beauty Pacific Northwest Ballet Through February 14th