Bon voyage
24
Trouble knocks
Pro performers
22
Out &About
21
O&A
19
The
www.ebar.com/arts
Vol. 43 • No. 03 • January 17-23, 2013
Hard-knock lives by David Lamble
Live at the Rrazz co-owners Rory Paull (left) and Robert Kotonly (right) flank performer Petula Clark.
Matthias Schoenaerts and Marion Cotillard in director Jacques Audiard’s Rust and Bone. Roger Arpajou, Why Not Productions, Courtesy Sony Pictures Classics
I
n a Jacques Audiard film, when a character receives an offer he can’t refuse, he should probably refuse anyway. In Rust and Bone, Ali (Matthias Schoenaerts) is a Flemish-born sod driven by a feckless economy to relocate in Antibes in the South of France. He’s out of work, homeless, and raising a five-year-old boy (badly, it should be said) when he’s approached by a rogue named Martial (Bouli Lanners) to make some fast Euros beating up street toughs even dumber than himself. “Want to make some money fighting?” “Are you shitting me? What’s your role?” “I know a guy who organizes street fights, for money, bets.”
“How’d you meet?” “I was installing security cameras in a garage where he was stealing Mercedes. He bought all the tapes.” Against all odds, the invitation to Palookaville pays off for both men as Ali rights his ship by moving in with his hard-bitten sister and her shotgun-owning husband. Even the kid Sam (Armand Verdure) responds positively to the sister’s care, although he still must protect his head when Dad gets a wild hair up his ass. In the world of Jacques Audiard, violence is seldom gratuitous, and we feel the pain for several reels after Ali, in a sudden emotional spasm, See page 20 >>
Life is a café cabaret
Rrazzle dazzle
Courtesy Rrazz
by David-Elijah Nahmod
F
or the past five years, the Rrazz Room at Hotel Nikko has been San Francisco’s premiere venue for established and emerging cabaret artists. In December 2012, eyebrows were raised when it was announced that the venerable club would be closing. Only a week later, Rrazz set up shop in a brand-new location, inside the historic Cadillac Building at 1000 Van Ness Ave. Unlike similar clubs in other cities, Rrazz is often programmed towards an LGBT demographic. “You never know what to expect,” said Rrazz co-owner Robert Kotonly in a phone interview with the B.A.R. “We like to keep people guessing. We gave new respect to talent like Lypsinka and the Kinsey Sicks. In other clubs you would never see acts like Lypsinka
or Varla Jean Merman. I don’t know why, they’re phenomenal talents.” Kotonly shared the origins of the club’s name: the two Rs in Rrazz stand for Kotonly and Rory Paull, the co-owners. Both are excited about their new home. “It’s a journey for us,” said Kotonly. “We’re up for the challenge. We love what we’re doing, so there’s no reason to stop the train.” The new Rrazz has 50 more seats than the original. They’ve hired chef Bronson Macomber, and promise that the food will be fabulous. They also intend to continue offering a stage to LGBT performers along with more mainstream names. Performers as diverse as cabaret superstar Andrea Marcovicci, See page 18 >>
Pianist Alexandre Tharaud.
by Tim Pfaff
T
here are many ways to measure an artist’s range or versatility. As I was preparing to write this review of pianist Alexandre Tharaud’s latest CD, Le Boeuf sur Le Toit (Virgin Classics), I caught his stunning appearance as himself in Michael Haneke’s Cannes Palme d’Or-winning film Amour. Besides lending some exquisite Schubert and a bit of a Beethoven Bagatelle to the film, Tharaud was completely believable as a concert pianist whose career was peaking on a visit to an elderly, now failing teacher. The character’s happiness, and Tharaud’s enormous personal appeal, are the single bright spot in this otherwise unrelievedly sober if transfixing film. On Le Boeuf sur Le Toit, Tharaud is back
to his day job as an off-screen pianist, bestknown for his many Chopin recordings, although his range in the classical repertoire is also great. He’s enlisted a group of musician friends who together make this one of the most thoroughly enjoyable recordings of fringe classical music since the heyday of Joan Morris and William Bolcom. Le Boeuf sur Le Toit takes its title from the name of the roaringest café cabaret in Paris during the Roaring 20s, which in turn took its name from a 1920 ballet (English title The Ox on the Roof) by Darius Milhaud. Tout le demimonde of that cultural highwater, now nearly a century older but aging like the best French wines, passed through See page 18 >>
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Marco Borggreve