Vol 06 Issue 34

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EDITORIAL Editor Rebecca Schoenkopf rebeccas@lacitybeat.com Arts Editor Ron Garmon rong@lacitybeat.com Film Editor Andy Klein andyk@lacitybeat.com Calendar Assistant Arrissia Owen Turner calendar@lacitybeat.com Copy Editor Joshua Sindell Editorial Contributors Paul Birchall, Andre Coleman, Michael Collins, Cole Coonce, Mark Cromer, Perry Crowe, Mick Farren, Richard Foss, Matt Gaffney, Andrew Gumbel, Tom Hayden, Bill Holdship, Jessica Hundley, Chip Jacobs, Mark Keizer, Carl Kozlowski, Kim Lachance, Ken Layne, Steve Lowery, Wade Major, Allison Milionis, Browne Molyneux, Anthony Miller, Chris Morris, Amy Nicholson, Arrissia Owen Turner, Donna Perlmutter, Joe Piasecki, Neal Pollack, Ted Rall, Erika Schickel, Don Shirley, Kirk Silsbee, Brent Simon, Coco Tanaka, Don Waller, Jim Washburn, Wonkette

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News

Letters. Rebecca Schoenkopf’s got some ’splaining to do. Old News. Manny Ramirez, hunk of dreadlocked love. By Steve Lowery. Wonkette’s Weekette! Fundies, prayin’ for rain. To Serve Man. Jim Washburn lays some knowledge on you, for serious, y’all. Read and learn. Tracks. Browne Molyneux seems somewhat suspicious of the defense contractor who’ll be running our Metro gates. Silly rabbit! They’re paid by the government! They’re here to help!

Feature Sunset Junction, what’s your function? Ron Garmon laments the great Isaac Hayes, but Sam Moore, of Sam & Dave, soothes him. Schoenkopf gets into some light B&D with Kinky. Arrissia Owen Turner talks tariffs with Henry Clay People. And Garmon makes the Scene (Broken Social) and loves all over Gram Rabbit’s Jesika von.

Living Eat. Richard Foss croons silly love songs to Silver Lake bistro SiLa, the best thing since something else really great. Plus, all the events you can stomach, in Bites! The Last Sportswriter. Someone needs to put down his marijuana pipe, get off his couch, and report me a goddamn sports column, NEAL POLLACK. Eco-Topic. But Coco Tanaka doesn’t. Because she is delightful, and pretty, and we love her. More on the Junction, from Miss Coco, here. Real Astrology. We love Rob Brezsny too. Psycho Sudoku/Jonesin’ Crossword. And this guy! Matt Gaffney! And his wonderful teasers!

LA&E Seven Days. Garmon and his motley crew find some things for you to do. Film. Yes, I know that rhymed. Andy Klein finds a lattice of coincidence, like when you’re thinking about a plate of shrimp, and somebody says “plate” or “shrimp” or “plate of shrimp.” Third Degree. Latinologues’s Rick Najera explains what it means to be a man. Stage. Don Shirley gets cranky, yanks his kudos from Unknown Theater. Plus Currently Playing! Music. The crew dives ears-first into Merch. Chris Morris thanks God and Jerry Wexler, in Sonic Nation. Garmon goes a-wooin’, in Clubland. And Joshua Sindell takes you through the NightBeat. Art. Andrew Berardini gets lost at the Huntington (because its exhibition design don’t make no sense), and maps out the month’s best openings, in Sketches.

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CALL ME Cracker, Get the Message I don’t wish to fault Ted Rall’s essay [“Our Bad War in Afghanistan,” Aug. 7] but the historical observation in his final paragraph addresses the situation more succinctly than the various missteps he notes, of which a sizable amount of people are aware. War against a people always entails disaster which the “winners” usually disregard. Studs Terkel points out as much in his book The Good War. Even Obama, in whom “we” have hope, seems to think Afghanistan is Grenada, El Salvador, Guatemala or Panama. Sidney Bechet, the famous jazz clarinetist from New Orleans, was buttonholed by a black American (can’t think of his name) writer in Paris in the early ’50s and was asked to opine about the war in Korea: “It might take the crackers a while longer to get the message, but the time is past when a white man can come out on the balcony with a toddy in his hand and shout down to the natives to cut out all that damn racket.” Arrogance has its terrible downsides. Having not “won” in Korea did not deter us from further adventures abroad such as in Vietnam – which we left not because we were defeated on the field but because some could see that that effort could bankrupt the economy. And remember, it was not that long ago that the military assured “us” that “we” could handle a full-scale war on several fronts. That military can now, with impunity, fly anywhere in both Afghanistan and Iraq, bombing targets over and over, just as they did in Vietnam, but cannot stop the daily death toll; and at a cost of over a billion dollars a week. The final scenes of the present policy (and Obama doesn’t appear to have an alternate one at this time) will make the exit from Dunkirk look like a goingaway party. –F. Daniel Gray Los Angeles Hot Buttered Hayes Thansks to Ron Garmon for sidestepping the typical media trivialization of soul giant Isaac Hayes in his heartfelt eulogy [Clubland, Aug. 14]. The Chef/ South Park/Scientology sound bite was Hayes’s most recent brush with the Entertainment News Machine, but as Ron pointed out, this is dwarfed when compared with any single musical achievement of Hayes’s storied career. For me, Hot Buttered Soul was one of the most forward-looking and innovative records ever made, and yeah, it was a makeout record. Nonetheless, the stretched, time-expanded, oh-so-funky psychedelicized tracks preceded similar ventures such as the debut Funkadelic alb or Pink Floyd’s Meddle by over a year each. And even that was but one part of a giant musical statement. The big man got behind me once in line at Mayfair – even in groceries his stature was huge! –Bruce Duff Hollywood MacGuffin! Thank you for the nice review of PEN [Don Shirley’s “The Pen and the Prostitute,” Aug. 14]. It was a very fascinating show to work on, and has brought about a lot of discussions from the people who have seen it. A lot of

people get stuck on the actual “pen,” and I can see why people immediately go to the idea of the turning point of the piece being fantasy, but that was not my approach to the writing at all. The mother and son believe that it is attributed to the pen, but I believe that the pen has nothing to do with what happens. It is a conduit and a MacGuffin. I have not had a chance to talk to the playwright (who will actually be seeing the show this Saturday and doing a Q&A after), but everything in his writing supports the idea that the mother and son have a gift. They are healers, or empaths. The thing is, they don’t know that they are, and are not able to purge what they absorb. All of us are affected by what goes on around us, and we all absorb positive and negative energy to different degrees. Hopefully we have outlets to release the negative energy. Helen has such a strong gift (or curse) that she absorbs the weight and pain of the world (and the ’60s was a very painful time), which very likely led to her ailment. The mother and son are so close that they are able to transfer this energy between them. Some people may say that the idea of “healers” is a fantasy, which always surprises me. Most people will tell you that they believe in an afterlife, but they can’t accept that the same energy that we must turn into when we die can be transferred in many different and mysterious ways while we are still alive on this Earth. I am delighted that this play is causing so much discussion. That’s what I believe the best play, or entertainments should do. –Jeff Rack Director of PEN

BY STEVE LOWERY

Monday, August 11 The Olympics continue, and we here in L.A. are surprised and horrified to find out that Kobe Bryant, not LeBron James, is the world’s most popular basketball player. This is surprising because most of us have mixed feelings when it comes to Bryant – the word “polarizing” comes up a lot – and horrifying because the huge crowds that surround and follow Kobe everywhere have led to speculation: that some European basketball league looking for instant credibility would offer Bryant some ridiculous sum, say 50 million for a season, and did I neglect to say that it would be a ridiculous amount in euros, so now we’re talking like a $75 million a year deal? Would he take it? Uh, would you? Be honest. Liar. Bryant’s deal with the Lakers ends after this upcoming season and he would be uniquely attractive to the Europeans, especially the Italian league since he was raised in Italy and speaks the language. So get a good look. Now, for NBA-loving Laker haters, just know that Kobe’s departure would actually have dire consequences for the Association. A full-on raid by the Europeans would no doubt force the NBA to abandon the salary cap to compete for talent. The cap has allowed big-name players like Tim Duncan to remain in small markets. Without the cap, the big players go to where the big money is and that means bye-bye Minnesota and Milwaukee and San Antonio. How this all plays out remains to be seen, but one thing is clear: Horses hate us. You heard me. Hate. You get on the back of a horse and catch a glimpse of its eye and you know what you see? Rage. Friend Flicka my ass. Dull, hateful eyes, like Nancy Grace. Tuesday, August 12 The Los Angeles Ethics Committee votes to fine L.A. City Councilman Jose Huizar $15,000 for using a fundraising committee to conduct “political research” on school board member David Tokofsky. “Political research” is a nice term for spying and “councilman” is way too honorable a term for a man not only willing to go through someone’s trash but who also starts not one but two defense funds in order to raise the money necessary to pay his fines. At least Huizar was man enough to stand up, as a man, and admit, as a man, that he was wrong. He did this through his lawyer, who said that Huizar accepted responsibility for this “administrative error.” The lawyer, some bobblehead named Kaufman, went on to say this was actually a “confidential research project” designed to find ways to “improve schools in the community.” So, let’s say Huizar is telling the truth and he really did find ways to improve schools. Why would you want to keep that confidential? Wouldn’t you want everyone to know that? Wouldn’t you want every kid, every teacher, every parent to know the great secret you found while rummaging around in David Tokofsky’s recyclables?

Big Daddy Regarding “John Edwards Won Father of the Year” [Wonkette’s Weekette! Aug. 14]: Rielle Hunter was pregnant, quite possibly with Edwards’s child, at the time he was receiving the “Father of the Year” award!! Actually, wouldn’t that give more credence to his “Father” award? After all, he couldn’t wait to become a father again. So much so, he couldn’t even wait for his wife to be ready, so he did the next best thing!! –Shaun Paul Pepper Via e-mail Desert Rose Kudos once again to Rebecca Schoenkopf. Not only is her own writing first-rate, but she is running some superb columns by other authors. Case in point: “Desert Rattler” by Ken Layne. I am hoping this becomes a regular weekly feature. Layne’s work is a brilliant amalgam of humor, social criticism, urban anthropology, and sheer humor! And wait a minute ... I forgot to add prose-poetry. While that “other” alternative paper grows more insipid by the day, L.A. CityBeat continues to outdo itself. Keep up the great work! –Gary Eisenberg Via e-mail Send letters to editor@lacitybeat.com or do it up old school: Letters to the Editor, LA CITYBEAT, 5209 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles 90036.

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Wednesday, August 13 Word is that Manny Ramirez is going to cut his hair because that’s what Dodger manager Joe Torre requires. This raises the question: How many RBIs does Joe Torre have this year? I covered baseball for a number of seasons and so I know how precious a hitting groove is. Hitting a baseball is the hardest thing to do in sports, and when a player is cued in he will do anything to stay grooved: eat the same meals, wear the same underwear, cheat on his wife with the same skank. You don’t mess with Baseball God, you take your hits, say thank you and, most of all, YOU DON’T CUT YOUR HAIR! And please, please, please, don’t be a putz and tell me Ramirez can’t be treated any different from the other players or it will breed resentment. You know what breeds resentment? Losing. You know what breeds resentment? Guys who get paid a lot and don’t produce. Andruw Jones breeds resentment. Manny Ramirez hits. End of hair discussion. Thursday, August 14 And anyways, horseback riding is never what you think it’s going to be. You think it’s going to be done at a gallop and your hair is going to get that nice windswept thing going, and everything will proceed in slow motion with a smidge of light filter. Of course, you never gallop the horse. You walk the horse. Really slow so that you can feel every muscle in your buttock compress and release and you begin to wonder that this is better than walking how? Friday, August 15 Work begins today just south of San Diego on a fence on the Mexican border designed to keep people out of the United States. Happy Middle Ages, everyone! The fence is part of the Bush administration plan to have something like 650 miles of fence and barriers all along the Mexican-U.S. border, giving potential invaders a paltry 1,400 miles of border to play with. It took 12 years of planning, environmental reports, and legal challenges to get to this day, and the fence near San Diego will cost about $16 million a mile but, hey, we’re gonna have ourselves a fence! Not that we really need one there. Apparently in the dozen years since the plan first came up, people have found other places they prefer to cross. Still. Nevertheless. A fence! Construction of the fence figures to spark a veritable “If it’s good enough for the Mings” explosion in ancient favorites: moats, boiling oil, capital punishment. Saturday, August 16 The Los Angeles Times hires Eddy Hartenstein to be the paper’s new publisher. He said he was excited. That’s nice. Hartenstein is credited with pioneering satellite television so I got no problem with him – if he was the dude who came up with TiVo I would do things for/to him. You heard. But, anyway, good luck, Eddy. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you can’t blame the horse. I mean, no one asked the horse if he wanted someone on his back, so why wouldn’t he be pissed off? Why wouldn’t he be trying to scrape you off on every passing tree? How excruciating it must be to have someone mount you, pet your neck, and command you to go faster. I hate it. Don’t look me in the eye! Sunday, August 17 TiVo dude. Call me✶

N<<B<KK< MONDAY John Edwards Also Ruined Hillary Clinton’s Life! Oh goody, we are now at the “blame John Edwards for pretty much everything” stage of the Edwards Was a Baby Mamma scandal. Somehow the mortgage meltdown and the brand-new war in Georgia will turn out to be his fault, but we’ll leave it to Sam Stein to uncover those crucial links. In the meantime, former Clinton communications director Howard Wolfson has found something else to blame on John Edwards: the implosion of the Clinton candidacy. The rationale goes something like this: If the world had learned that John Edwards was a vulgar self-regarding horndog before the Iowa caucuses, then two-thirds of his voters would have switched to Hillary Clinton. She would have squeaked out of Iowa to triumphant victory in New Hampshire and so on and so forth until she was the nominee. Thus the media’s failure to cover this story earlier is yet another example of Sexism against Hillary Clinton. Of course, then there are “facts” like these: “[Obama campaign] officials never bought the argument that Clinton was the second choice of Edwards voters. Immediately after Edwards dropped out of the race at the end of January, Obama won 11 straight contests in a row.” –Sara K. Smith Cokie Roberts Does Not Want Barack Obama to Vacation in Exotic Locale Oh good God. It is probably time for either Cokie Roberts or Wonkette to retire, now that we have said basically the same thing about Barack Obama’s elitist vacation to some place called “Hawaii,” which is located in the lower left-hand corner of the map right next to Alaska — and yet has burning hot summers, whereas Alaska is forever enshrouded in snow. Why won’t Barack Obama apologize for visiting his grandmother in this curious “Mystery Spot” where many Americans go on package tours? –SKS We Have a Date! Homosexual Florida Governor Charlie Crist is getting married, to a woman, so he can be a real, live National Politician. And over the weekend, he announced that he and his “bride” have set a date! It’s December 12, a full 38 days after the election. In other words, they don’t have to plan shit unless he somehow wins as John McCain’s vice president, in which case they’ll actually have to go through with the awful stunt. –Jim Newell Democrats to Spend Convention Wednesday Pretending They Aren’t Pussies The Obama people announced on a conference call today that the Wednesday of their convention — the night the vice president speaks, assuming there ever is one — will be National Security Night, meaning it will focus on “Securing America’s Future.” You know, with guns and sheee-iiiit. And that is why Dick Cheney will be Obama’s second black vice president. –JN Clinton Campaign’s Internal E-mails More or Less Confirm Staff’s Insanity For the last few days, the folks at the Atlantic magazine have been hyping a piece from senior editor Joshua Green about the (not so) mysterious inner workings of Hillary Clinton’s terrible campaign staff, claiming Green had procured 200(!) internal e-mails and memos. Such teases! This is sort of like waving crack in front of John Edwards’s crack baby, but then saying, “You have to wait for the September issue of crack to come out in three days.” But it’s out now, and we read it, and there’s not much you haven’t already known for months or couldn’t have predicted. It has its moments, however. Wait until you

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N<<B<KK< read about Mark Penn’s “FUN” invisible people button for the website! Of course most of the hilarious bits involve chief strategist Mark “Bowser” Penn, the worst human being on earth, ever. Penn strongly urged the campaign to go after, you guessed it, Obama’s “lack of American roots.” Hawaii, Indonesia, you know… The BLACKNESS maybe… NO THAT WAS A JOKE! Ha ha, eh… “Let’s explicitly own ‘American’ in our programs, the speeches and the values. He doesn’t. Make this a new American Century, the American Strategic Energy Fund. Let’s use our logo to make some flags we can give out. Let’s add flag symbols to the backgrounds.” This next bit is kind of sad. First they couldn’t bribe journalists at dinner, and then they were “mocked for weeks” for attacking a five-year-old Obama. “[…] Clinton exploded, demanding to know why the campaign wasn’t on the attack. Solis Doyle was put on a plane to Iowa the next day to oversee the closing weeks. Within hours of the call, the panicked staff produced a blistering attack on Obama for what it characterized as evidence of his overweening lust for power: He had written a kindergarten essay titled ‘I Want to Become President.’ The campaign was mocked for weeks.” These people aren’t all nuts, though, it seems after reading this. Hillary was just such a frontrunner, with so many advantages, that each of her top advisers was going out of his or her mind 24 hours a day not wanting to be the one that blew it. As a result they just fought all the time, these very smart individuals, and ended up blowing it as a team. And that’s quite an achievement. –JN TUESDAY Famous Jay McInerney Novel About Rielle Hunter Goes into Reprint Jay McInerney used to love dating crazy broads and doing a lot of blow, back in the ’80s, when it was considered un-American not to walk around with a cocaine mustache and a persistent case of chlamydia. During these halcyon days, he dated the craziest broad of them all: Lisa Druck, who went on to change her name to “Rielle Hunter” and attain universal revile for her terrible use of fonts in John Edwards’s painfully embarrassing presidential campaign “Webisodes.” Now Jay McInerney’s publisher is reprinting a book he wrote in 1988 called Story of My Life, which is told from the point of view of a Hunter-like character, so now you too can read second-person descriptions of what it is like to have furtive futuristic time-machine sex with John Edwards in his Dirt Palace. Hint: The name he calls out in the throes of passion is his own. –SKS Cindy Sheehan Will Crush Nancy Pelosi It’s official: Nancy Pelosi has not one but TWO opponents in a “hotly” contested race for her Congressional district. In addition to Dana Walsh, the last specimen of a doomed and rare species called the “Bay Area Republican” which is hunted for sport on the banks of San Francisco’s mandatory nude heroin-needle beaches, this woman named Cindy Sheehan is also running to make a Point. Cindy Sheehan is the woman who everyone felt bad for because her son was killed in Iraq, until she became the most tiresome Californian this side of Medea Benjamin. Sheehan has collected enough signatures from teen bums and migrant workers to run for Congressional District 8 where she will surely triumph, because seriously who has even heard of this Pelosi gal? She’s the one in the nice suits, right, all blinky behind the president during his interminable State of the Union speeches? Yes, get rid of that one and replace her with the antiwar protester who makes liberals personally want to bomb the shit out of Iran. –SKS Bachmann: Nancy Pelosi Is Not Jesus, at All Your favorite crazy Minnesota Rep. Michele Bachmann, today: “[Pelosi] is committed to her global warming fanaticism to the point where she has said that she’s just trying to save the planet. We all know that someone did that over 2,000 years ago, they saved the planet — we didn’t need Nancy Pelosi to do that.” Al Gore saved the planet 2,000 years ago, too? Well he obviously didn’t do a very good job then; why should we trust him now? Oh and Michele Bachmann, she’s nuts, just completely gone. –JN

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THE NIGHT THE LIGHTS WENT OUT IN GEORGIA BY JIM WASHBURN

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n Fritz Leiber’s 1964 sci-fi story “The Black Gondolier,” Earth’s oil is sentient and had directed human progress for millions of years, nudging us into civilization, scientific discovery, and war so we’d finally develop rockets, because oil wanted to visit oil on other planets. If so, we must be a big disappointment, since we’re not zipping around the galaxy yet and oil scarcely gets to go to Catalina. It took the Cold War’s space race to put us on the Moon. Nothing since has generated such thrust. You’d think our conflicts in the oil-basted Middle East would have spurred a space fatwa – “We’ll show the infidels! We’ll land on a crescent moon!” So maybe oil figures it’s time to get back to Plan A and revive the Cold War, or at least oilmen do. There are issues aplenty behind the conflict in Georgia, but to the powers fueling it, it’s a war of competing pipelines. Russia, with its post-menopausal longing for its superpower influence, would very much prefer that its pipelines carrying Caspian Sea oil to the European market were the only pipelines. The West (You don’t mind if I call oil giant BP “the West,” do you? We’re all in this together!) opened its own pipeline through Georgia two years ago, ending Russia’s monopoly. The West has poured hundreds of millions of dollars into Georgia’s military defense largely to protect the pipeline. (You don’t mind if I call your wallet “the West,” do you? I’m sure BP is really grateful.) We have other reasons for supporting Georgia, the nice one being that it’s a fledgling democracy; another reason being that neocons enjoy making Russia nervous with armies and “missile shields” at its borders; still a third being that the military aid is payoff for Georgia joining the Coalition of the Cajoled, having sent a dollop of troops to our oil war in Iraq to foster the illusion of international support (Tonga stands with you!) in exchange for aid, thanks again to your poor, bedraggled wallet. At this writing, tensions between the U.S. and Russia are the highest they’ve been since before the Soviet Union fell. President Bush, who previously drowned in the luscious depths of Vladimir Putin’s eyes, now decries his bullying ways. BP has shut its Georgia pipeline for fear it might be bombed in the conflict. How did this come to pass? Well, ever since Georgia separated from the Soviet Union, two chunks have wanted to separate from Georgia, and have acted as autonomous regions the whole while. Georgian president Mikheil Saakashvili this month decided to send in the troops and weapons you paid for, who killed

a bunch of people and blew things up, giving Russia an excuse to send in its own troops to show Georgians how the pros do killing and blowing up. Like Ike and Tina, Russians never do anything nice and easy, and their assault has been

disproportionate and horrific. It should be noted, though, that the people of the breakaway regions are hailing the Russians as saviors. Saakashvili almost certainly didn’t make his incursion decision in a vacuum, not when it was guaranteed to provoke Russia; not when he’s bragged of having more face time with Bush than any other small country’s leader; and not when John McCain’s top foreign policy advisor, Randy Scheunemann, was until early this year a paid lobbyist of the Georgian government and spent three-and-a-half years lobbying McCain on its behalf. Even while Scheunemann is on leave of absence from his firm, it continues to roll in Georgian bucks. So, assuming Saakashvili made his move with a nod from the U.S., how on earth did our administration so deeply misread what the Russian response would be? One school says it’s just Bush getting everything wrong again, that his crush on Putin blinded him to his brutal side, while redeployment of our spy satellites to cover Iraq and Iran has left us literally blind to Russian troop movements. But Bob Scheer and others have suggested this might be another October Surprise, designed to scare people into voting for flinty vet McCain instead of the unproven Obama. In exchange for

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risking Russia’s ire, Saakashvili would be guaranteed the continued beneficence of Washington’s neocons, with one of them at McCain’s right ear. And a new Cold War could be enough of a scare at home that people might not spend the final months of Bush’s presidency reflecting on what a colossal fuckup he’s been. Then there’s this: Maybe sentient oilmen like it just fine when Bush screws up, because they get even richer than if things went according to plan. Maybe that’s the real plan. They get to make plenty of money if oil is flowing through Georgia. But if it isn’t, the price shoots up yet again, and they get to make even more money selling less product. So it has been these last seven years: If the coup against Venezuela’s Hugo Chavez had worked; if Iraq had been a cakewalk and its oilfields the frosting; if the rest of the Middle East had obediently fallen in line, then oil companies stood to make lots of money. Instead, those plans blew up like a clown’s cigar, and the companies are making the biggest profits in world history. Like California’s rigged energy “crisis” eight years ago, any crimp in the supply chain is an excuse to ratchet up the price. Meanwhile, the squeeze and fear of gas going even higher lets the oil companies demand more concessions than the billions in handouts Bush has given them. Ignore all the leases the public’s granted them that they haven’t drilled yet: If they don’t get unchecked offshore and Alaskan drilling rights, you’ll pay at the pump, and they’ll blame the Democrats, who only wish you’d inflate your tires. Poor Obama. Conservative commentators chastised him for not coming off his one-week vacation to address the Georgia situation, though, of course, if he did, they’d attack him for hubris: “Who does he think he is, the president?” Where was our actual president? On Vacation. In Crawford. If it seems he’s always vacationing when there’s a crisis, it might be because Mr. I Won’t Rest Until bin Laden Is Brought to Justice has spent some 915 days of his presidency on vacation, careening past even Reagan when it comes to sleeping at the wheel. Just as well, since McCain’s out there making the same embarrassing statements on Georgia that Bush is, embarrassing because scolding “In the 21st century nations don’t invade other nations” is like telling your kid “Daddy doesn’t drink” while a hooker’s pouring Cuervo into a funnel in your mouth. The last time I checked in with the 21st century, a nation had invaded another nation, was still occupying it, and could for another 100 years in the sanguine opinion of some guy named McCain.✶

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N<<B<KK< WEDNESDAY Jeremiah Wright Does Not Plan to Release Presidency-Sinking Book About Obama After All Hey, maybe Jeremiah Wright wants Barack Obama to be president after all! Following EXPLOSIVE reports that he was going to publish a picture book in October featuring Barack Obama getting AIDS from the Muslim prophet Mohammad, Reverend Wright’s daughter now says that he has absolutely no plans to write a book any time soon. She also says her father would respond personally to e-mail inquiries, but he is in “e-mail hell,â€? which we are informed means “a place in Ghana where it’s difficult to send and receive e-mail.â€? When will Barack Obama apologize for his former pastor’s daughter using the word “hellâ€? so glibly? –SKS Fundies Literally Praying for Rain During Obama’s Convention Speech “Doctorâ€? James Dobson’s hub of fundies, Focus on the Family, is worse than Hitler, Stalin, Chairman Mao, Lyndon Johnson, and Senator-cum-Emperor freaking Palpatine combined, times a billion, squared, plus seven. While some “new-waveâ€? fundies show potential to be not quite as awful — they care about poverty! — we still have to deal with the likes of Old Dobson and his minions, however muted they are these days, for like another 10 years before he hopefully dies, alone, one cell croaking painfully at a time. Look at these twats, now they are “praying for a deluge to drown out Barack Obama at the Democratic National Convention in two weeks’ time.â€? They are asking for “abundant, torrentialâ€? downpours. And they’ve made a video for this! “Would it be wrong to pray for rain?â€? Stuart Shepard, an adult retard, asks 700 times. We don’t know, dude! Let’s try to figure this out, if this would be “wrong.â€? First of all, we guess it wouldn’t be wrong because it wouldn’t matter if you prayed, because there is no God. How do we know this? Logic: t (PE XPVME DFSUBJOMZ LJMM 4UVBSU 4IFQBSE XJUI MJHIUOJOH t 4UVBSU 4IFQBSE JT TUJMM BMJWF t 5IFSF JT OP (PE Second, it wouldn’t be “wrongâ€? because a rainy Denver Hope Party would be fun! Buncha hot Denvernians runnin’ around in wet T-shirts, Barack Obama talkin’ in a wet suit shirt, mud fights ’n’ sitch. Rain = peace! Isn’t that like a literary archetype? –JN Why Won’t Obama Apologize for Dead Bigfoot? Some dudes say they’ve found a dead Bigfoot, in Georgia! It is being revealed to The Media in Palo Alto, which is on the other side of the country, in California. We are pretty sure it’s just a dead stoner-hillbilly, maybe from Lynyrd Skynyrd or something, but what the hell, maybe eight-foot-tall hair-apes really do wander our nation, voting for Hillary. Why won’t Barack Obama stop his Indonesian Sex Tourism and protect America from Dead Georgian Hair-Apes? –Ken Layne THURSDAY Will John McCain Select Known Abortionist Tom Ridge as His Vice President? Maverick John McCain is at it again, sticking his finger in the eye of the Republican establishment by saying he wouldn’t rule out a pro-choice running mate. Two names came to mind — Tom Ridge and Michael Bloomberg — and in a recent interview with the Weekly Standard McCain strained to point out that Ridge was far more appealing because he only loved abortions, not both abortions and The Gays. “I think it’s a fundamental tenet of our party to be pro-life but that does not mean we exclude people from our party that are pro-choice. We just have a – albeit strong – but just it’s a disagreement. And I think Ridge is a great example of that. Far moreso than Bloomberg, because Bloomberg is pro-gay rights, pro, you know, a number of other issues,â€? McCain said. In other words, a Vice President Bloomberg would administer compulsory gay abortions on the White House lawn in celebration of the Wiccan Summer Solstice. A Vice President Ridge, however, would discreetly perform his abortions in the White House bowling alley like a real man. All this speculation adds up to one obvious conclusion: John McCain is wriggling mightily to get out of asking Mitt Romney to be his running mate, which is why it will be so hilarious when he finally has to cave. –SKS Kwame Kilpatrick Allowed to Attend Democratic National Convention The Mayor of Detroit has gotten into more scrapes than Harriet the Spy and Ramona Quimby combined, times a million. Nonetheless, Kwame Kilpatrick will get to throw off his electronical tether and CUT LOOSE at the Democratic National Convention in Denver later on this month. The judge who has been so mean to him lately, throwing him in jail for various things, said it would be fine for Kilpatrick to go be a superdelegate at the convention because “No one has been found guilty of anything ‌ Let’s not trash the Constitution.â€? Well, that sounds oddly reasonable! We look forward to running into the Mayor at the Verizon Wireless store, where he will be buying phones to send sexy text messages to Madeleine Albright. –SKS U.S. Troops Give Barack Obama Their Elitist ‘Money’ Oh ho ho! Look what Open Secrets and Americablog tell us: “According to an analysis of campaign contributions by

E<NJ the nonpartisan Center for Responsive Politics, Democrat Barack Obama has received nearly six times as much money from troops deployed overseas at the time of their contributions than has Republican John McCain, and the fiercely antiwar Ron Paul, though he suspended his campaign for the Republican nomination months ago, has received more than four times McCain’s haul.� Wow. Barack Obama hates American troops so much that he takes all of their money! –JN Senator Norm Coleman Didn’t Pay Utility Bills at Tragic Hovel It is common knowledge around D.C. that Hobo King Norm Coleman sleeps in a drawer and gives handjobs for lunch money. But NOW it turns out that he also failed for a whole year to pay the utilities on the six-cubic-foot basement dungeon he rents from some pal of his. He is truly the most corrupt legislator invented since, who is it, that guy with the astonishing head-merkin. Here is the deal with your dirty Senator Coleman: He rents a wee room from some lobbyist friend, and once he skipped rent for a few months, and apparently didn’t pay a single cent to keep the lights on in his depressing little box for a year, and also he paid his friend in used furniture once. Norm Coleman is an emotionally deranged homeless man who should never leave his box without strict instructions pinned to his jacket lapel. –SKS Good-For-Nothing Firefighters Endorse Obama Socialist villain Barack Obama has been endorsed by another group of Blame America First gay sellouts, those lazy clowns known as “America’s Firefighters.� The International Association of Fire Fighters is endorsing Obama at some fire in Las Vegas today, because the Democratic candidate thinks lazy firemen deserve “collective bargaining,� which sounds pretty communist, so that’s why John McCain is bravely against firefighters getting paid a decent wage. –KL

KI8:BJ

EASY RIDER BY BROWNE MOLYNEUX

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he Metropolitan Transit Authority wants to make everything as easy as possible for you, their beloved riders. That’s why, they say, they’re phasing out the traditional monthly and weekly paper passes to make way for the new Transit Access Pass (TAP) card. The TAP cards are primed to work in conjunction with fare gates being implemented to replace the honor system (in regards to payment) and to assist Metro in being more cost efficient. But it gets easier still, this time for you, the California taxpayer. The contractor for the fare gates and the TAP

Musharraf Has Had It “Faced with desertions by his political supporters and the neutrality of the Pakistani military, President Pervez Musharraf of Pakistan, an important ally of the United States, is expected to resign in the next few days rather than face impeachment charges, Pakistani politicians and Western diplomats said Thursday.� Ha, so much for that guy. Will Benazir Bhutto take over by default now? Oh right, she’s very dead. We should squeeze Mitt Romney in a little box and mail him to Pakistan and be like, “this guy’s awesome, let him take over.� That would be so great, they’d have no idea. –JN FRIDAY Magnificently Awkward Living Arrangements Took Key Role in Edwards Sex Cover-Up One of the weirder angles on the John Edwards Sex Scandal is the part where the guy who says he’s Rielle Hunter’s baby daddy, Andrew Young, has to live in the same weird compound (OK FINE A “GATED COMMUNITY�) in North Carolina as Rielle Hunter, and then they all have to move to California, together, with their families, including Mrs. Young and their three children, because they are all in a terrible sex-induced Witness Protection Program. “When Ms. Hunter, her baby and the Youngs moved to California around the end of last year, they all initially lived in the same residence, according to an associate of Mr. Young and Mr. Edwards. “But the arrangement strained relationships, and Ms. Hunter moved into a different residence, which cost about $6,000 a month in rent.� If there were truly a God this would already be a sitcom in production, starring Dylan McDermott as the frazzled fauxadulterer trying to keep the peace between his old boss’s pregnant floozy (Christina Applegate) and his own comically resentful, wisecracking wife (Allison Janney). And then God would bury the production studio in hot lava. –SKS John McCain Is President of Sports Does Barack Obama have a “major league sports team owner� problem? It sure looks like it, because he has not raised nearly as much money from this crucial demographic as that other guy, John McCain. McCain has raised more than $3.2 million from major sports team owners and their families, while Barack Obama has raised only $615,000 — despite the fact that Obama is way better at basketball. Too bad Obama is too much of an elitist to relate to simple, working-class multimillionaire sports team owners. –SKS Main Stream Media Ignores Scurrilous Rumors, But Picks Up Completely Insane Ones Everyone should thank CNN today for thoroughly debunking the “rumor� that Barack Obama is the Antichrist (seriously, this is somehow classified as a “rumor,� that Obama may have magical powers). The big headline, “OBAMA THE ANTICHRIST?� along with the subhed claiming that this is a real “debate� online and thousands of other images of ANTICHRIST ANTICHRIST EVIL SATAN were very necessary for the viewers watching said debunking. Raw Story has the video. Oh and let’s thank CNN for covering this same thing yesterday, too. –JN Wonkette’s Weekette! is brought to you by the lovemuffins at wonkette.com.

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cards is Cubic Corporation, and Cubic is being partially funded through a Homeland Security grant, according to a press release put out by the Governor’s Office of Homeland Security. The fact that Cubic is a defense contract company shouldn’t wrinkle your pretty little brow. “Cubic has a lot of other enterprises. They have long been providing transit boxes for transit agencies,â€? said Marc Littman, director of Metro Media Relations. Littman said the TAP system and fare gates were for our protection. “It helps to make the system more secure. Right now we have an honor system, but we are going to be installing gates. In this day and age of terrorism we need better control of our system.â€? So will it be easier for the defense contractor – and Homeland Security – to get your private information? When asked if projects funded by grants from the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) allow the respective agency to be exempt from observing the Privacy Act, Amy Kudwa, a representative in Public Affairs at DHS in Washington, D.C., stated, “Of course not.â€? (The Privacy Act is one that is meant to protect American citizens’ personal information from unwarranted monitoring and collection.) A provision in the Privacy Act states: “No agency shall disclose any record, which is contained in a system of records by any means of communication to any person, or to another agency, except pursuant to a written request by, or with the prior written consent of, the individual to whom the record pertains.â€? Of course, any regular reader of the news knows that government agencies have been regarding this as a suggestion. A customer service representative at Metro stated that my personal information was not needed to buy a TAP card, and that there were presently no plans to make it a requirement. Should we believe Metro? It would be easier to just believe the agency’s press releases than question them. They seem like nice people.âœś

THE MAN WHO WON’T BE THERE One half of Sam & Dave replaces the irreplaceable at Sunset Junction BY RON GARMON

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PHOTO COURTESY OF SUNSET JUNCTION NEIGHBORHOOD ALLIANCE

fter days of wearing a black armband and cursing my luck for not having interviewed the headliner the week before, I called the organizers at Sunset Junction about the big hole the death of Isaac Hayes blew in their Saturday lineup. Instead, they asked me what I thought of having the great Sam Moore step in for the late Mr. Chains. Short of abandoning the Memphis Mafia altogether and going with an equivalent 1970s icon like Bootsy Collins or the Ohio Players, handing Hayes’s spot over to the surviving 50 percent of Sam & Dave makes sense. It’s also a handsome tribute to the late Chef, now deader than ever was Kenny. Hayes and David Porter wrote the bulk of Sam & Dave’s hits, including such still-incredible tracks as “You Don’t Know Like I Know,” “Hold On, I’m Comin’” and “Soul Man.” Sam & Dave, nicknamed “Double Dynamite” for their sweaty, passionate live act, went through a speeded-up version of the usual showbiz travails, breaking up acrimoniously in 1970, not long after the hits stopped coming and their songwriting team had gone on to other things. Aykroyd and Belushi brought the Stax sound roaring back late in the decade with the Blues Brothers, but the team couldn’t bury their differences long enough to make more than a few appearances together. Dave Prater died in a car accident in 1987, after touring with a sound-alike Sam during much of the 1980s and getting popped for selling rock cocaine to an undercover cop the year before. It’s amusing and instructive to consider the songs Hayes helped write for Sam & Dave in light of his later, much-exaggerated reputation as crooning sensualist. “Goodnight Baby” is the simple and breathless leave-taking of a tender one, with the pair’s boyish yelping vocals providing the only sexual innuendo, while the delivery of “I Thank You” registers something close to shock at “kisses so good I had to holler for help.” This simple masculine wonder at feminine power runs through the duo’s Hayes-Porter catalog, culminating in “Soul Sister, Brown Sugar,” a paean to the self-evident sweetness (“the whole world knows you’re out of sight”) of the hitherto-unsung black woman. My love for these tunes is so great, a ravebaby ex used to put them on to giggle at my old-skool tastes. In short order, that tricky, Southern-genteel Stax sound would take baby by the ears while I busied myself with all else of her. Compared to the bejeweled fantasias Hayes recorded under his own name in the 1970s, the Sam & Dave songs are wheezes from an old music-box. His themes for Shaft saw and raised the innovations Ennio Morricone was making in film scoring, while Hot Buttered Soul took orchestral R&B into the stratosphere. When I heard that Black Moses himself was headlining at the Junction, I imagined the lordly, muscular strains of “Walk on By” echoing down Santa Monica Boulevard and bitterly regretted I’d be Burning Man-bound that Saturday night. Bliss it would’ve been to be alive in such company! Still, I commend to you fine ladies and gentlemen Mr. Sam Moore, nearly the last of the original soul men. Selah.✶

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THE OTHER COLD WAR KIDSS The Henry Clay People give and take BY ARRISSIA OWEN TURNER

PHOTO BY NORMAN WONG

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BROKEN SOCIAL SCENE HAS WHAT YOU NEED

on’t be surprised if the Henry Clay People challenge you, or another band, to fisticuffs, particularly if there is pizza involved. The sonically charged SoCal quartet named for the infamous 19th century dueler Henry Clay of the Whig party aren’t so much fans of the man or his politics as they were impressed with his passion for give and take, which is what it came down to when choosing the name they’d have to print on countless fliers and T-shirts. “Everything sounds cliche or misrepresentative of the band’s sound,” says frontman Joey Siara. “So I guess Henry Clay works in the spirit of compromise.” So, no, it’s not admiration of Clay’s protection of industry, especially since as Joey says, “There are not as many tariff/annexation crises these days, I suppose.” The band tends to be more interested in Cold War history anyway, with song titles like “Blacklist the Kid with the Red Moustache,” after which the band’s last EP was titled. But as songs like “Working Part Time” indicate, the band is catapulting into the present, dealing with living the struggling artist life. They rock like the Replacements and spin yarns like Pavement, with songs about being suckers for Saturdays, stealing candy canes and cigarettes, and mothers and fathers who give faces no one can remember. With anticipation building for the band’s new album coming out in the fall (on Autumn Tone, appropriately) we will settle for a glimpse of new material at this weekend’s Sunset Junction. If you miss them, don’t be surprised if a glove lands in your path and the term methodus pugnandi is thrown around. Now, we bid you adieu.✶ The Henry Clay People perform Sunday at noon.

Toronto indie superstars will chillax you BY RON GARMON

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espite plangent moniker and casual air, Broken Social Scene have a lot to learn about organizational self-destruction. Brendan Canning and Kevin Drew are the bright and chipper Canadians fronting this massive, unwieldy, and nonpareil indie-rock supergroup. While touring and recording with such a massmind agglomeration of musicians might strike the casual observer as the short route to exstardom, the core duo avoid the twin perils of flameout and ossification by doing solo albums under the fan-friendly rubric Broken Social Scene Presents. Drew’s Spirit If… was released last year to acclaim from fans starved for BSS material since the band’s 2005 self-titled fantasia was greeted with awe and trembling among followers of gentle pavement psychedelia. Canning’s just-released Something for All of Us is another stiff dram from the same jug: Stray melodies, clever lyrics, and rousing orchestral fragments swirl inside songs with quizzically poetic titles like “Antique Bull” and “All the Best Wooden Toys Come from Germany.” For Canning, this album differs from the BSS catalog in a most crucial respect: “It has my name on it,” he chuckled down the phone. “There’s more of me on this one and I brook no opposition from any bandmate on it! Kevin and myself don’t have other groups to play with and the two of us started this band, so the idea is that Kevin and I can make records anyway.” This approach “lets us find our strengths and weakness too,” as well as avoids the ‘I’m carrying the other guy’ recriminations that so often disfigure partnerships. “At this point, we’re a core of seven with a road company of auxiliaries,” observed Brendan. “This way, you don’t have to wait for the other guys to come around if you wanna do something.” Imagine the Mothers of Invention without Frank Zappa’s control freakdom and you can glimpse the outlines of the BSS indie industrial complex. The engaging looseness and hallucinatory quality of the collective at its best is present on Canning’s solo album, but reinforced by the fellow’s obvious warmth and love of nuance. Being the main man for once ought to bring a species of self-realization, and Canning seems to know what he does for his mates: “I bring sanity, exuberance, wisdom,” he intoned with mock-seriousness, before I punctured the irony with “I guess that kind of makes you the Paul McCartney of this operation.” “I’m normal to me,” he laughed. “Ask someone else and you’ll hear something else.” Festival organizers showed uncommon acumen in placing BSS at the close of Saturday. The outsized band’s sunshine noise-pop and relentless good-fellowship can’t help but soothe and mellow the drunkass rowdies huddled around the Bates stage. I briefly hipped Canning at what he’s likely to get in the way of an audience – a fishbelly-white and lobster-red horde spritzing and slobbering in late-summer abandon around the Bates stage – and the flinchless Canadian answered with a single mumbled “Cool.” They’ve humanized far worse.✶ Broken Social Scene plays Saturday at 7:40 p.m.

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TEQUILA! Kinky wants you to dance until you burn BY REBECCA SCHOENKOPF

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he men of Kinky have a machine behind them. And half of that machine, Kinky’s manager, has stopped by for our interview and is sitting in Omar and Carlos’s spare and modest living room, pleasantly quashing just with his elegant and reserved presence any stupid questions I might have wanted to ask the men of Monterrey. I sit, and watch them valiantly try to fill my awkward interview silence. Luckily, the other half of the machine stops by after the first half of the machine leaves, throws some shit at me, body slams me into the couch and holds me there, and howls for tequila, a bottle of which I have brought to join Kinky’s many tequila flavors. Gil and Cesar and Uli (who studied economics and then studied at the Berklee School of Music) wander into the kitchen to give us some space or to avoid the flailing limbs as I try to kick their agent in the knee. It is probably too early for hijinks. It is 4:30 p.m. Before Kinky’s menace of an agent arrived, and the “interview” quickly devolved, I learned: Monterrey, Mexico, is an industrial city of three or four million people; you need a car there; its music scene, which had mostly consisted of the traditional strains of folklorico, managed to spawn El Gran Silencio and Control Machete; Kinky like playing hippie festivals in the forest; they will play one soon in Humboldt, during the harvest; they played Viva Latino in Mexico City before 75,000 people, and Red Rocks in Denver, and the Royal Festival Hall in London. Two weeks ago, they played the Black Arts Festival in Atlanta. Were they well-received? “Yeah, yeah! Disco or rock, we fit anywhere! There was no sound check, we just started right away, just started with some jam, and this guy was already dancing to any little sound, just feedback or anything. We hadn’t even started yet!” It is important, the men of Kinky tell me, to have a good crowd enjoying what you do, and yes, they watch from the stage and feed off it. And those freaky groupie girls, who stare at one member the whole time, unblinking? They see you, and you should move your eyes sometimes, because otherwise you are scary. Last week, they played Central Park, a show so awesome their bill-mates Porter broke up afterward, and their agent, a psychotic flameball of a man, rants something about “dancing Japanese” that makes no sense, and then wanders like a homeless into the kitchen for mas tequila. Once, they played a festival with De La Soul, Cake, the Flaming Lips, and Modest Mouse. Oh, how wonderful that must have been! Also, one of them recommends Zune, where for $15 a month, you have unlimited downloads. The downside? Once you stop paying, your access to everything you downloaded disappears; you’re only renting the songs, not buying them. On Sunday, when they play Sunset Junction, they will do a few tracks off their forthcoming album Barracuda, a monstrously catchy Spanglish disc with a heavy retro ’80s pop vibe (it’s sorta disco and totally great, and more organic than synthetic) – probably “Baila” (“dance until you burn”) or “Avian.” And I’d guess they’d do some stuff off Reina, an album with a bit of a heavier grind to it. Or one of their many others, which I haven’t heard, because mostly, since Kinky are Mexican, we were listening to Morrissey.✶ Kinky plays Sunday at 8 p.m.

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AFTERNOON OF THE LEPUS Gram Rabbit’s desert disco at the Bates Stage BY RON GARMON

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ack in the mist-fogged reaches of 2004, I had this to say about Gram Rabbit:

Dry and tough as mule jerky, sexy as a swayed hip, the music weaves elements of electro-dance, Byrds-era country rock, inner-space jazz, and gnomic meditations in the manner of Spiritualized and Pink Floyd into a sound that’s unaffectedly homey, profoundly ambitious, and frankly revolutionary. Here is the ineffably personal imagery of a West Coast daydream made accessible, even commercial. KCRW’s Morning Becomes Eclectic has given the band prominent exposure, and it’s slated to appear chockablock with big-money acts at this year’s Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival. All this due to a few old Gram Parsons songs, a motel room with a ghoulish past, and one woman’s disgust with her L.A. garage band. Though purple as a fresh bruise, these are remarks to stand by. Written back when Gram Rabbit’s debut, Music to Start a Cult To, was charting an eccentric path through the earholes of Clubland, this mash note was among its first notices. I later described their sophomore album, Cultivation, as sounding like “a bulletin giving you 24 seconds to get out of your own head” and this doesn’t come near exhausting the hallucino-metaphors Gram Rabbit inspires in me and other dope-addled jades of the rock critocracy. Last year’s Radio Angel & the RobotBeat added a Euro-pop sheen to the desert disco and psilocybin atmospherics, but their album release party at Safari Sam’s was a memorably un-slick clusterfuck, in which frontbaby Jesika von Rabbit wound up wallowing on the floor under an impromptu dogpile. “We try to have a little party onstage,” Jesika admitted. “Todd [Rutherford] and I met about eight years ago out in the desert,” Jesika recalls now, skipping the well-known parts about Gram Parsons’s motel room and the various quasi-psychic phenomena surrounding the group’s formation. “We bonded over Gram Parsons songs, got to know each other, and started playing each other’s demos, and eventually we started playing at an openmike night on the anniversary of Parsons’s death. We decided we were what each other was looking for music-wise, him up in San Francisco and me in Los Angeles. We had some good moments and went through many lineup changes, a few too many for me, which is not so much fun. Our producer Ethan Allen is now our guitar player. We’re working on new stuff and plugging away.” “Our sound hasn’t changed that much,” she admits. “Though our last album doesn’t have much of the desert-y feel of the earlier ones. Right now, a lot of the stuff we’re working on does have that feel. You get bored occasionally and want to change things.” The onstage antics change only so far as they move from raucous to out-ofcontrol, with guitarist Rutherford smiling indulgently at Jesika’s surreal agitprop and the hordes of bunny-eared disciples she attracts. The druggy Cali-country swirl and the midafternoon heat haze of the Junction promise an out-of-body experience just when you’re likely to need it most.✶ Gram Rabbit play Sunday at 2:30 p.m.

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SILA LOVE SONGS Spectacular in Silver Lake BY RICHARD FOSS

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he SiLa Bistro’s name struck me as odd at first, so I turned to that fountain of information, the Internet. Could the restaurant be named after the Securities Insurance Licensing Association? A Pakistani clothing line? A Buddhist concept of virtuous conduct? Aha, that must be it – it’s probably a Buddhist vegetarian place. Let me find my saffron robes, dear, and we’ll be on our way. Luckily, before I changed clothes I checked out one more site – the restaurant’s – which informed me that the name is a contraction of Silver Lake. If pronounced accordingly, it would rhyme with “delay.” It doesn’t – they answer the phone so it rhymes with villa. This pesky question answered, I was finally free to consider the ambiance and cuisine. The mini-mall exterior gives no hint of how pleasant it is inside, a modern bistro and wine bar in a plain wrapper. The menu raised our expectations too, a short but varied list that mixed classical French and modern ideas. We decided to start with baked brie in puff pastry with walnuts and gorgonzola ($11), mainly because we had never seen anyone top baked cheese with a different kind of baked cheese. It’s a clever idea – the very light drizzle of blue cheese was nicely calibrated. You get the perfect consistency of brie and just enough bright, tangy gorgonzola to bring out the flavor of the thin layer of apricot. I can’t remember seeing this combination anywhere else, and it’s a good one. My wife tasted her mushroom bisque

and said sadly, “You won’t like this.” Long experience has taught me to never believe her – it’s code for “I really want to eat all of this myself.” As usual, her ploy didn’t work. The starter was indeed excellent – not a bisque by any usual definition, since no seafood was harmed in the making of it, but a thick, satisfying soup of pureed mushrooms with minimal spices that intensified the musky notes. (Chef Steven Brown came from the Inn of the Seventh Ray, which pioneered this kind of lush vegetarian cooking.) The soup went very nicely with the Masoletti Pinot Grigio our server suggested – not a wine I would have chosen, since most PG’s are too thin and delicate to pair with full, almost creamy flavors, but the Masoletti is more fullflavored and does the job. The Terre Rouge Syrah suited the cheese well, too – our server Jamil knows his stuff. My wife chose lobster and sweet corn raviolis ($21) – a good but not particularly novel idea, until you come to the part about the fava beans, tomato confit, and vermouth cream sauce. Traditional Mediterranean ideas, but nicely and creatively combined – the delicate lobster combined marvelously with the corn’s sweetness, and the cream sauce with just a hint of residual alcohol added complexity. The portion looked small, but it was so rich that any more would have been excessive. At our server’s suggestion, I selected braised short ribs with gorgonzola and green beans ($28). I had almost ordered the more interesting-sounding rack of lamb with fig and pearl onion compote,

but Jamil rhapsodized about this daily special so poetically that I gave in. It was indeed good, the meat stewed to almost jellylike tenderness so that the flavor intensified, the cheese just a hint of richness and body in the sauce. It’s the kind of meal I wish I had on a cold night by the fire so I could be warmed from the inside out, but it was still tasty on a balmy evening in Silver Lake. Maybe it was the excellent food, maybe the two glasses of wine – a Piro Piro Chard with the ravioli, the appallingly named but tasty “Bangin’ Red” blend with the short ribs – but we were in a happy state of surfeit when we finished our entrees. Nevertheless, we ordered the lemon cheesecake ($8) and port poached pear ($9). This cheesecake was neither heavy nor oversweet, but instead hit all the right notes, tart with Meyer lemon and light as a cloud. The poached pear was a bit more conventional but nicely done, cinnamon and nutmeg adding savory notes to fruit and wine flavors. The SiLa Bistro has become my new favorite restaurant in the area thanks to above average food at reasonable prices, served with a blessed lack of pretension. After only a few months they have the assured style of an established business, and they deserve to succeed in a big way.✶ SiLa Bistro, 2630 Hyperion Ave. at Griffith Park Boulevard, (323) 664-7979. Open Tues.-Thurs., 5-10 p.m.; Fri.-Sun., 5-10:30 p.m. Free parking lot adjacent, alcohol served, some vegetarian items. Wheelchair access through side door.

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I Knew Before You Told Me ... The American Journal of Medicine reported that people in their mid-40s to mid-60s who take up moderate drinking even after a lifetime of abstinence are likely to have healthier hearts than those who stay non-drinkers. This follows scientific studies that also show health benefits for garlic, onions, chocolate, and chile peppers, proving that things that make us happy are also good for us. The next time anybody who says there’s never any good news in papers like these, please feel free to show them this article. Still No Word on the Health Benefits of Scotch … I have met some very old Scotsmen, so whisky may also have hitherto unknown vitamins of some sort. Whether or not it does, it’s a delight to the palate, and Learn About Wine is celebrating the stuff with a tasting pairing fine Scotch with artisanal cheeses from Wisconsin. It’s at the Beverly Hills Hotel, a swank setting for a culinary excursion. Do you have some time Sept. 18 and $50 to spare? Check out the website at learnaboutwine.com and click “events.” As Far as the Eye Can See … I just got a note from Vegin’ Out, the vegan meal delivery service, that boasts that they have served their 100,000th meal. I immediately had a vision of them all in the same place, with plates of healthy stuff stretching to the far horizon. They’ve recently branched out to doing vegan catering, and with the volume you can get doing that in L.A., their 200,000th meal may not be far in the future. Want to make a healthy statement and send them a few meals toward their goal? Call (800) 420-4297. Sweet-Tart … Tart, the restaurant at the Farmer’s Daughter hotel, has a tough location – it’s across the street from Farmers Market, and everybody who goes down Fairfax is focused on the pretty architecture on the east side of the road. After years of serving good food in a pleasant atmosphere to very small crowds, they’ve freshened the decor and are relaunching the place with a new chef, Lauren Kyles. The plan is apparently to offer a slightly more contemporary take on Southern cooking, which is a good idea – here’s hoping they can overcome everyone’s tendency to drive by on their way to the pie shop. Boar’s Head Revisited … Wild boars are bad-tempered, dangerous, and ugly, none of which is an adjective I’d use to describe Le Sanglier in Encino. The restaurant nevertheless is named for wild boar and serves it regularly, as well as hosting regular wine dinners. The next of these is Aug. 27, and the menu sounds lovely. The roasted sea bass tapenade with orange coulis and rosemary caught my eye, and the rest of the menu sounds equally lovely. No boar on the menu at this dinner, alas, but plenty of other reasons to dine in Encino. Call (818) 345-0470. --Richard Foss Help Me Out Here … Anyplace fantastic I should know about? Any food festivals or wine events? Send a message to Richard@richardfoss.com.

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THE RE-EDUCATION OF NEAL POLLACK

Indian Restaurant

BY NEAL POLLACK ure, I’ve been watching the big-ticket Olympic sports, jumping in the air when the men’s swimming relay team beat those arrogant French jerks with the black penis costumes, trying not to act like Humbert Humbert in the face of women’s gymnastics coverage, feeling annoyed that I’m expected to root for Kobe Bryant now that he’s put on the USA’s uniform. My real preference, though, is for the 10 a.m. CNBC broadcasts, the obscure low-weight boxing matches on Universal HD. I’ve developed odd attachments, finding myself, at times, rooting for a Korean female archer and a Latvian men’s beach volleyball duo, and wondering why the officials call so many fouls in water polo. But nothing so far has excited me quite like the “creative portion” of the opening ceremonies, which was a military march, with children, in the guise of the greatest contemporary art installation of modern times. On Friday night I sat, baked out of my gourd, on old pal Gregg’s couch in San Rafael, watching the majesty unfold on his nine-millioninch Vizio. “Whoa, dude,” I said. “This is unbelievable.” “Totally rad,” he said. “It’s like the Chinese are saying, we rule you supremely.” “That’s definitely what they’re saying, dude.” Each display was more impressive than the next: The guys in the letter-blocks, the guys with the neon costumes, the imperial fashion show, the 2008 synchronized tai chi guys, the ship flags. The giant LCD screen made me feel like I was living in a medieval village by comparison. I realized that the world had, forever, shifted. Chinese children were flying high above the crowd in a state-of-the-art stadium, and I was watching them, stoned. As a friend said to me later, “I was ready to turn in my passport and bow down to my new masters.” When the Chinese hoisted the astronauts and ran the image of the universe around the state-of-the-art scrim at the “Bird’s Nest,” I actually gasped. “Holy shit,” I said. “This is the future, and we are the past.” “OK, stoney,” said Regina. Then came the musical portion of the evening. Atop a glowing yellow sphere, a zombified Sarah Brightman and a fat Chinese man with glasses sang a slow, drippy, insipid song called “You and Me” while a bunch of dancers ran around the globe attached by cables. It made me long for a good old-fashioned Britney Spearsand-Aerosmith halftime duet. The Chinese may own trillions of dollars of our debt, and may be moving forward while we’re

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cratering, but at least we’ve still got them when it comes to the rock. For now. n Tuesday, it was back to the devil I know, and off to the stadium to see the suddenly pennantcontending Dodgers play the Phillies. This night had special meaning because it was the night of the Joe Beimel Bobblehead. Who is Joe Beimel, you might ask? Well, he’s an obscure but generally effective lefthanded relief pitcher who’s been with the team for several seasons. He’s got greasy, shoulder-length hair, a permanently sleepy expression, and always wears a twoday stubble; his greatest moment of national prominence came when he knocked himself out of the playoffs in 2006 by getting drunk and cutting his hand on a glass in a New York hotel room. Beimel was rewarded with his bobblehead through a “fan’s choice” ballot on the Dodgers.com website. The bobblehead box features a reaction quote from him: “It feels outstanding. It’s just one of those things that, as a player, you don’t really ever expect ... it’s very flattering. It’s just something that I never thought would happen.” We hate to break it to Joe, but his selection happened because of a concerted ballotstuffing effort by the Dodgers comedy site dodgerblues.com. The contest happened at a time of year when no one else was paying attention, and Beimel is a guy who appeals to a certain kind of drunk smartass with too much time on his hands. His bobblehead is awesome, but it was awarded ironically. Beimel’s box includes such factoids as “All Time Dodgers Leader in Games Pitched by a Lefty” and the fact that he has a plaque in the Duquesne University Sports Hall of Fame, not exactly the stuff of legends. In fact, when Beimel came into the game on Tuesday in a clutch situation – on his own bobblehead night – the crowd, which would give Nomar a standing ovation for tying his shoe, pretty much ignored him. Beimel got his men and then headed to the showers. In the parking lot, people were already trying to sell off their bobbleheads, with no takers. I’d never think about selling mine. In 40 years, I’ll be an old man, probably sitting in the same basement I’m sitting in now. My grandchild will look at the yellowed doll on my shelf and say, “Who’s that, grandpa?” “Why that’s Joe Beimel,” I’ll say. “He pitched for the Dodgers waaaaay back in aught-eight.” Either that, or I’ll be at a Chinese reeducation camp, watching women play doubles ping-pong.✶

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INTO THE SUNSET BY COCO TANAKA f I told you Isaac Hayes was a vegetarian, would that inspire you to lean green at this year’s Sunset Junction Street Fair? The icon’s final wish was to see all of Silver Lake eating funnel cakes from compostable takeout containers. Show a little respect for a fallen headliner. OK, I’m not saying Hayes really cared about composting, or that he was a vegetarian, because he totally didn’t, and wasn’t. An old roommate had a soul food cookbook penned by the late Chef/chef, and I think one of the more referenced chapters was called “Chicken for Sunday and Any Day” or “I Freaking Love Barbecue” or something to that effect. But if believing that Hayes was a hardline Begley acolyte motivates you even slightly to appreciate the sustainable slant of this year’s Sunset Junction, so be it. The ends probably justify my emotionally manipulative means. Despite the regrettably regular contingent of dirty hippies, the street fair hasn’t exactly been an environmental love-in to date. It generates a ton of waste and lures seas of cars, and I’m pretty sure the bands aren’t relying on solar power. I’ll say this much for the fair’s yearly crop of leather daddies: I don’t know that they’re rushing to shill for the NRDC, but when the chaps are assless, that means that much less leather. Seriously, aside from this year’s inclusion of the L.A. County Bicycle Coalition (trying to find a good parking spot at the fair is downright masochistic – consider using the Bike Valet), the environment has been an ignored P.S. on Sunset Junction’s list of priorities ... until now. Enter the Silver Lake Chamber of Commerce Green Committee, strapping on its fightin’ boots to begin lowering the impact of one of Silver Lake’s most time-honored pavement orgies. The committee’s ambitiously named ZeroWaste Initiative (so much more persuasive than Half-Waste Initiative, no?) is encouraging vendors to eschew plastic for compostable takeout containers. They’re providing bins for food waste and recycling, enlightening the tipsy masses as to just why they should separate their paper plate from their taquito scraps. Co-chairing the nascent Green Committee is Meg Dickler-Taylor, proprietress of Large Marge Sustainables, a local farm-driven catering company. Meg is the kind of conscientious greenie who can’t help but push people’s activist buttons – her enthusiasm is SARS-level contagious without ever approaching self-righteousness. “L.A. wants to become zero-waste by 2020, which is amazing – but it’s a very big goal,” she says. “We

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have a lot of work to do, and this is the first step,” and that step harks back to the most elementary of green deeds: taking out the trash. Since those who would knead the green movement into palatably chewy mainstream dough are all too eager to unveil the latest and greatest Earth craze (biodegradable sofa cushions, or ways to convert your SUV into a hydrogen hybrid that runs on the sound of baby laughter), it’s become commonplace to discount the separation of garbage as archaic environmentalism. It isn’t. The act of throwing one item in Bin A and another in Bin B is no less effective for its simplicity, and it means less landfills, less energy, and, for the resourceful urban miners wading through the rubbish for redemption values, a tidy little payday. Predictably, most vendors at Sunset Junction have a yen for a more eco tomorrow that’s handily trumped by their yen to turn a profit. Two exceptions are Barrett’s Lemonade & Foods and Mr. Goodburnz, hailing from Huntington, which have both agreed to the SLCCGC’s gentle suggestions that vendors shun Styrofoam, plastic, and paper for compostable containers and cutlery. “We’re trying to tell vendors that people in the Silver Lake area are interested in preserving the environment, and customers really will pay a small premium to accommodate that, even if it’s 25 cents,” Meg says. She isn’t the tsk-tsking type of eco-militant who would try to guilt you into separating your street fair waste. She’ll leave that to the Bin Angels, recruited volunteers who will man the weekend waste and literally talk trash to the 25,000 expected fair attendees. The recyclers from on high will stand guard to explain the clusters of bin trios: one for recycling, one for organic waste, and one for plain ol’ trash, the bin Meg & Co. would ultimately like to phase out. “The Bin Angels encourage people to take an extra second to think about what their plastic container is made of. They’ll be able to tell people, ‘Hey, that container in your hand will break down. In spring, you’ll be able to pick up the free compost at Griffith Park and use it in your garden.’” Their knowledge is courtesy of SLCC-GC co-chair Leslie VanKeuren, who manages Gingergrass restaurant, a Silver Lake hub for Vietnamese eats and composting out back. Her motto, “Think before you toss,” has become a kind of committee campaign slogan – a “reduce, reuse, recycle” for the aughties. Put to a funky beat with a lot of organ, that might be catchy. Isaac Hayes would’ve loved it, I know it.✶

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ARIES (March 21-April 19) Your next assignment is to inject more fun into your job -- or into anything that feels like work, for that matter. You’ve got a head start because lately you’ve been playing harder than usual. That should give you creative momentum as you reinvent your approach to activities that push you to your limits and test your resolve. For best results, be open to the possibility that you really don’t have to keep being bored and cranky in places where you’ve assumed you will always be bored and cranky.

TAURUS (April 20-May 20) After studying your astrological omens, I closed my eyes and asked the spirits for a psychic vision that would symbolize your imminent future. The scenario that came up was a pair of toddlers dressed in fine purple satin garments and wearing golden hats. They looked like a prince and princess, and were wandering around inside a ritual circle about ten yards in diameter, drawn with white chalk in a green meadow. Vases of cut flowers and statues of gods and goddesses ringed the circle. So what does my vision mean? Maybe this: Two magnificent possibilities have recently been born or will soon be born. You should cast a protective spell around them, letting them amble and dally within a proscribed area as their magic ripens.

GEMINI (May 21-June 20) Some spas are now offering their clients “butt facials.” The cost for smoothing and toning your skin in the lower realms can range up to $800 per session. At that steep price, I can’t in good conscience mandate the procedure for you. But the astrological omens are favorable for you to take special care of things at the bottom of your life, even if they are more metaphorical in nature. So please brainstorm about how you could upgrade your ballast, strengthen your foundation, and give your center of gravity a boost.

CANCER (June 21-July 22) Studies show that 58 percent of us think our IQs are higher than average. That can’t be true, of course. But maybe one sign of a person with a below-average IQ is the delusion

that he’s pretty intelligent. Having said that, however, I confidently predict that at least 58 percent of all Cancerians will exceed the mediocre norm in the coming weeks. The figure may even rise as high as 75 percent. The astrological omens suggest you have the potential to be smarter than you’ve ever been. Use your acuity constructively!

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22) Was there a dream that you abandoned some time ago? Was there a power you recklessly gave up? Do you ever think longingly about a knack or skill that withered away because you stopped wielding it with the regularity and excellence it demanded? It’s time to revisit defeats like those, Leo. According to my analysis of the astrological omens, you’re in good shape to reimagine the original experiences in ways that could help you recover what was lost.

rest of 2008, Libra. May he inspire you to give yourself the slack you need and compete with no one but yourself as you become more of the unique work of art you were born to be.

LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22) The 19th-century American philosopher Henry David Thoreau accomplished a lot. Among his voluminous body of work was Civil Disobedience, a book that inspired Tolstoy, Gandhi, and Martin Luther King Jr. In the two-million-word journal he kept for over two decades, he wrote about nature with a precision and care that prefigured modern-day environmentalism. But Thoreau also knew how to relax, and he was free of anxiety about living up to other people’s standards of success. One passage in his journal reads, “For many years I was a self-appointed inspector of snowstorms and rainstorms and did my duty faithfully, though I never received payment for it.” He’s your role model for the

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Everyone’s life is a hero’s journey, yours included. You have been on an epic quest ever since you first realized that your destiny is unlike anyone else’s, and that you have specific tasks to master as you pursue the long-term dreams that are uniquely meaningful to you. But like all the rest of us, you sometimes lose sight of this big-picture view for months at a time. You may even be fairly happy as you focus on your daily details without any thought of where your you’ll be years from now. If that’s the rhythm you’ve been in lately, Scorpio -- and I suspect it is -- it’s about to change. Your immersion in the next major phase of your hero’s journey will begin soon.

SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21) Michelangelo never finished twothirds of the sculptures he started. Basketball mega-star Michael Jordan failed on 26 different occasions when he was given the ball to try the gamewinning shot as time ran out. Of Bob Dylan’s 57 albums, maybe only 15 of them are masterpieces. I bring these facts to your attention, Sagittarius, in the hope that they will give you some perspective on the down times in your own track record. More importantly, I want to let you know that in the coming weeks you should have access to the kind of energy that Michelangelo, Jordan, and Dylan had when they were creating their legends.

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19) “The bewilderments of the eyes are of two kinds, and arise from two causes,” wrote Plato in The Republic, “either from coming out of the light or from going into the light, which is true of the mind’s eye quite as much as of the bodily eye.” He goes on to say that when a person leaves the light and enters into the shadows, his vision in perplexed, being unaccustomed to the dark. And when he moves from the murk into the brightness, it takes a while for his sight to adjust to the dazzle. According to my analysis of the astrological

Each of the 26 letters of the alphabet is represented in this grid by a number between 1 and 26. Using letter frequency, word-pattern recognition, and the numbers as your guides, fill in the grid with well-known English words. Only lowercase, unhyphenated words are allowed in kaidoku, so you wonít see anything like STOCKHOLM or LONG-LOST in here (but you might see AFGHAN, since it has an uncapitalized meaning, too). Now stop wasting my precious time and SOLVE!! psychosudoku@hotmail.com

Find last week’s Psycho Sudoku answers on page 54

air, water, sleep, and love, every human being needs stories. No one can psychically survive without the continuous flow of narrative through his or her imagination. And just as there is a big difference between the physical nourishment provided by a salad or by a candy bar, so is there a wide range of quality in the stories you expose yourself to. Soaking up the adventures of überplayboy Hugh Hefner and his three girlfriends on the TV show “The Girls Next Door” will probably deplete your energy and lower your intelligence, while reading Tom Robbins’ novel Jitterbug Perfume may enhance your mental hygiene and sharpen your perceptions. What I’m saying here is always true, of course, but it’s especially important for you to keep in mind right now. From what I can tell, you’re ravenous for beautiful, uncanny, uplifting stories.

PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20) “The uncreative mind can spot wrong answers, but it takes a very creative mind to spot wrong questions,” said British writer Antony Jay. If you’d like to be in close alignment with cosmic rhythms, Pisces, you will keep that meditation in the foreground of your awareness. Your imagination will be extraordinarily fertile in the coming week, and I can’t think of a better way to deploy it than to smoke out and lovingly annihilate the lazy, useless, and just plain bad questions that are threatening to lead you and others astray. In addition to the horoscopes you’re reading here, Rob Brezsny offers EXPANDED WEEKLY AUDIO HOROSCOPES and Daily Text Message Horoscopes. To access them online, go to RealAstrology.com. The Expanded Audio Horoscopes are also available by phone at 1-877-873-4888 or 1-900-950-7700. Rob’s main website is at FreeWillAstrology.com. Check out his book, “Pronoia Is the Antidote for Paranoia: How the Whole World Is Conspiring to Shower You with Blessings” “I’ve seen the future of American literature, and its name is Rob Brezsny.” - Tom Robbins, author of “Jitterbug Perfume” and “Fierce Invalids Home from Hot Climates”

AFE<J@EË :IFJJNFI; “Hit the Bricks”--a classic case of one-upmanship.

Kaidoku

omens, Capricorn, you had to deal with the first kind of temporary blindness about three weeks ago, and will begin experiencing the second kind any day now.

AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): In addition to food, SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21)

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22) “The advantage of the incomprehensible is that it never loses its freshness,” wrote French poet Paul Valery. From that perspective, Virgo, I bet you’ll be sparkling and brisk in the coming days. You will be cheeky and saucy, crisp and rosy, bright and wellventilated. There’ll be so much delightfully hard-to-understand novelty flowing your way that you will be awakened again and again and again, rising to a higher level of awareness each time.

By Rob Brezsny

Mavericks from Ross Perot’s son 7 Cartoon fan’s subgenre 8 Idea symbolizer by Matt Jones 9 Geo cars 10 “___ to Deodorant” (Coldplay’s first song) Across 11 Espresso-laced dessert 1 Peek at the answers 12 1980s workout wear 6 Calloway of “The Blues Brothers” 18 Prefix before dynamic or thermodynamic 9 Flame attract-ee 19 Bent to one side, to a Brit 13 Wood used in yachts 21 Knife sharpener 14 Palindromic prime minister of the 1950s 26 Sicilian calzone ingredients, perhaps 15 Sedgwick in Andy Warhol’s short films 16 “Fish in ___? How can that be?” (“Hop on Pop” 28 Ponderers 29 “Who Put the ___” (Barry Mann doo-wop line) song) 17 Like two-country trade agreements 20 Secluded room that makes you flash and become 31 Do a Tour de France no-no 32 “One ___ customer” temporarily invincible, a la Super Mario Bros.? 34 Spreading out on the farm? 22 Fruit juice suffix 35 Release from bondage 23 Pendulum’s roommate 36 Medicine man, hopefully 24 Singular 37 Introduces new software 25 Cleaner created by the iRobot company 27 Naval enlistee Find last week’s 29 Language spoken in Sarajevo 30 In the habit of 33 Opening word of “Send in the Clowns” 34 Puff of smoke that makes you grow to twice your size, a la Super Mario Bros.? 38 Billy of “Titanic” 39 New Guinea resident 40 Visible, as to a cameraman following an object 43 Countrified 47 Swiss breakfast option 48 Type of enrollment 50 Abbr. on old food labels 51 It may exist for its own sake 52 Kid that makes you shoot fireballs, a la Super Mario Bros.? 55 Do nothing 57 Supervise too closely 58 Actress Campbell of the 2005 TV musical “Reefer Madness” 59 The briny deep 60 “Fur ___” (Beethoven piece) 61 June card recipient 62 Show formerly hosted by Carson Daly, for short 63 People may be hired to fill them Down 1 Necklace ends, maybe 2 Actress McDaniel who was the first African-American to win an Academy Award 3 List of mistakes 4 Third highest-selling world computer manufacturer (behind HP and Dell) 5 “Sandinista!” band 6 Mark who bought a majority stake in the Dallas

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38 Clear malt beverages at 1990s parties 41 2008 role for Michael Caine 42 Actor Ventimiglia of “Heroes” 44 Fodder for some bar games 45 Most likely to 55-across 46 Core groups of trained personnel 48 Manual reader 49 Piano part 53 Lysol competitor 54 “___ in the Wall” (upcoming game show based on the Japanese “Human Tetris” clips on YouTube) 56 Gardner once romantically linked to Frank Sinatra and Ernest Hemingway ©2008 Jonesin’ Crosswords (editor@jonesincrosswords.com) For answers to this puzzle, call: 1-900-226-2800, 99 cents per minute. Must be 18+. Or to bill to your credit card, call: 1-800-655-6548. Reference puzzle #0376.

Jonesin’ Crossword answers on page 54

CHERYL GAMES

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Days in L.A. EVEN BETTER THAN THE REAL THING? JUDGE FOR YOURSELF AT "AS U2 LIKE IT" (SEE WEDNESDAY)

Edited by Ron Garmon

A Night in Old Havana:

KNOW BEFORE YOU GO!

Fri AUG 22 & Sat AUG 23 8:30pm

MAMBO STYLE! Tickets start at $10

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The five-time Grammy-winning musical powerhouse performs her many hits along with selections from her new CD.

Los Angeles

HOLLYWOOD BOWL

THURSDAY )( OBAMA NATION A Black & White Ball (get it?) will help kick off the young senator’s (projected) ascent to world domination. The frequently hilarious Kathy Griffin will be yukking it up with a slew of other celebs. Start saving your clams; the cheapest tickets start at $250, with V.I.P. reception tickets going for a cool $2,300. Proceeds will benefit the “Obama for America” fund. Bet you wish you had waited to make that campaign contribution. 7 p.m., at a private residence. blackwhitegala.com. (Sarah Tressler)

sharply, you can be safe, cool and comfy at The Mountain Bar in Chinatown gaping in brain-clotted disbelief at The Druid Underground Film Fest. I first saw this occasional compendium of screwloosed short films when it was rooted securely at the late, lamented Il Corral, but tonight the freak-friendly folk at the MB host this twohour event. Lovers of the outré will cherish every moment. 8 p.m. $5. The Mountain Bar, 475 Gin Ling Way, Chinatown. themountainbar.com. (RG)

MONDAY ), SUCK IT UP AND GO SEE A HOTTIE SING

FRIDAY )) OWNER OF A HAIRY HEART? Got you down that they pulled the plug on the Yes hootenanny at the Gibson Amp? Well, buck up, bunkie; your nostalgia fix awaits you tonight at Saint Rocke with the star-studded smash-n-grab of Faster Pussycat and L.A. Guns. Yes, scenic Hermosa Beach is a long way from the Strip that made these guys briefly notorious back in the far-distant day, but once we’ve entered the Marcel Proust Memorial Wayback Machine, such fine distinctions make little difference. Also rounding out the bill is the charmingly named Bang Tango. 8 p.m. $20. 142 S. Pacific Coast Hwy., Hermosa Beach. (Also Sun. at the Key Club, 9039 Sunset Blvd., West Hollywood.) (Ron Garmon)

SATURDAY )* Y TU MAMA Latinologues Tu is more of the uproarious same from Rick Najera starting an open-ended run tonight at the Hayworth Theatre. Another series of vignettes commenting on the Latino experience in the United States with poignancy and wit, after the first version toured the country and wound up on Broadway. Najera began writing his monologues as artistic protest against the racist Prop. 187 back in 1994, thus demonstrating even immigrantbashing bigots have their (unwitting) uses. 10 p.m. $27.75. The Hayworth Theatre, 2509 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles. latinologues.net. (RG)

SUNDAY )+ THE NEW WEIRD While thousands at Sunset Junction will be sweating balls and elbowing each other

If you missed your chance at seeing Radiohead, quit yer cryin’ and get yer ass out. There’s still plenty to do. Liz Wright, the pinup-worthy lead singer of Love Grenades, will help ease your pain at Silverlake Lounge, where the band has taken up residence for the month of August. The sound is electro-punk-pop girly kitsch. You can’t say no. Free. 2906 W. Sunset Blvd., Silver Lake. foldsilverlake. com. (ST)

TUESDAY )I SMELL FUNNY Need a little theater to feel culturally wellrounded? Spending a little too much time watching emo bands weep their way into a puddle-filled finale? Allow me to suggest the most recent (and very sophisticated) production by Dynamite Kablammo: You Will Most Likely Die. The sketch-comedy troupe told us to let you know that Jesus says it’s OK to see the show. Go easy on the liquids before you arrive. Zombie Joe’s Underground Theater, 8:30 p.m. $12. 4850 Lankershim Blvd., North Hollywood. zombiejoes.com. (ST)

1000 Universal Center Dr. Universal City (818) 755-9970 www.howlatthemoon.com/hollywood_tonight.html

WEDNESDAY ). MYSTERIOUS WAYS What’s that you say? You want to leave the house, but you can’t find a freeway with no one on it? Have you considered the 134? The Troubadour Theater Company is performing As U2 Like It: Shakespeare meets this century’s greatest Irish band at the Falcon Theater, 8 p.m., 4252 Riverside Drive, Burbank, (818) 955-8101. falcontheatre.com. (ST)

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HAMLET 2: DANA MARSCHZ (STEVE COOGAN) WITH HIS POOL OF CHORINES

HAMS IN HAMLET, TROUPERS IN TROPIC Two comedies sport Steve Coogan as Jesus H. Auteur BY ANDY KLEIN atching Hamlet 2, I was reminded of the words of Edmund the Martyr, King of East Anglia, on his deathbed, Nov. 20, 869 – “Dying is easy. Comedy is hard.” Well, duh. Dying is like rolling off a log ... sometimes exactly like it, if the log happens to be suspended over a thousand-foot chasm. And comedy is a lot likelier to die than death is to be funny – I’ve got lots of wisdom like that (catalog available on request) – which is borne out by the film. Oh, how often in Hamlet 2 does a too too solid joke melt, thaw, and resolve itself into doodoo! (By the way, Edmund the Martyr never, to the best of my knowledge, said anything of the kind. But the quote has been attributed to Edmund Kean, Edmund Gwenn, and several other Edmunds, as well as to such usual suspects as Oscar Wilde, George Bernard Shaw, and Groucho Marx. I have capriciously chosen to drag Mr. Martyr into it, just to mess with the search engines. He predates all the others, so – with the help of just a few of you – I might be able to turn a ridiculous impossibility into conventional wisdom. Go, team!) Hamlet 2 starts with a great title and a promising concept: Dana Marschz (Steve Coogan) is a grotesquely unsuccessful writer/ director/actor, who has been reduced to teaching a drama class at West Mesa High in Arizona. The school productions are generally stage adaptations of popular movies: Near the beginning, we see a little of his version of Erin Brockovich; later, he makes reference to his musical version of The Lake House. His long-suffering wife (Catherine Keener) tries to stand by her man, even though Dana’s lack of income has forced the couple to take the world’s dullest man (David Arquette) as a boarder. Things get worse when Dana’s class – traditionally attended by two lone students, closet case Rand (Skylar Astin) and straightlaced Bible-thumper Epiphany (Phoebe Strole) – suddenly swells with the addition of a couple dozen less aesthetically inclined teens, whose preferred classes are

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in rooms now shut down for asbestos fiber removal. When the evil principal (Marshall Bell) announces that drama class will be cut after this year, Dana hopes to make enough money to save the course by putting on a flashy production of his own script, Hamlet 2. Since everyone dies in Hamlet, Dana’s story requires Hamlet to have a time machine, allowing him to go back and change the tragic events, with some help from Einstein, Hillary Clinton, and, of course, Jesus. In short, the film is Mr. Holland’s Opus crossed with Waiting for Guffman. I cackled loudly about a dozen times at individual gags without ever finding the whole all that funny. Director Andrew Fleming (The In-Laws, Nancy Drew) wrote the script with Pam Brady, who shares credit with Trey Parker and Matt Stone on Team America: World Police and South Park, both series and feature. While she brings along those projects’ eagerness to cross the lines of taste, the inspiration level is a lot lower. The jokes and plot developments are obvious – precisely what anybody would come up with, given the premise. That doesn’t mean they’re not ever funny; but the utter lack of surprise becomes wearying. The only moments that aren’t predictable are those that barely make sense, including the appearance of Elisabeth Shue (playing herself). On top of that, the narrative in Hamlet 2 is terribly sloppy. Things lurch forward unevenly, with major developments taking place behind the audience’s and Dana’s backs. His sequel to Hamlet may be his masterpiece, but he seems to bring in few of the elements that make it “work”; the students do it all, while he’s busy with his crumbling marriage and his irritating self-pity. Hamlet 2 feels like a desperately cut-down version of a three-hour rough cut. And, if the play works for the audience in the film, it never does for the rest of us. In The Producers, you could believe the reaction that

made Springtime for Hitler a hit. In Waiting for Guffman, the reception was painfully realistic. Here, we are asked to suspend a little too much disbelief and buy that people love Dana’s play on its own terms. Coogan is a master at playing jerks, but Dana is too silly, too stupid, and too unappealing to enlist us on his side. He really is an annoying idiot, who hasn’t so much been dealt a lousy hand as earned it through his many faults. Coogan’s best jerk performances have been when he’s playing (literally) himself; in both Coffee and Cigarettes and Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story, he is perfect as an insecure actor named Steve Coogan. By one of those trivial coincidences that are so handy for otherwise unlikely segues, Coogan plays yet another dopey director in last week’s Tropic Thunder, where his part is smaller but much better modulated. (Another coincidence: Both characters appropriate the identity of Jesus.) In many ways, Ben Stiller’s comedy makes an instructive comparison to Hamlet 2. Most of you probably already know the basic concept here. (Hell, half of you have probably already seen it.) An action star on the skids (Stiller), a “serious” Australian actor (Robert Downey Jr.), and a broad comic (Jack Black) are in the Vietnamese jungle, making the film version of the memoirs of a tough-to-the-point-of-psycho vet (Nick Nolte). The latter convinces the first-time director (Coogan), under pressure from a thuggish studio boss (an almost unrecognizable Tom Cruise), to take them without crew on a trek through the jungle to generate some real fear in their performances. Unfortunately, local drug wholesalers think they’re DEA agents, and the danger becomes real. Like Hamlet 2, this is a hybrid of a couple of concepts that aren’t exactly new – actors who don’t realize that they’re in a real situation; a plot that inevitably creates exactly the make-believe circumstances the hero is prepared for; movie stars rising above their petty vanity to become (if only briefly) the

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braver characters they are used to portraying. (If the last most readily evokes Peter O’Toole in My Favorite Year, let me put in a good word for Vincent Price’s similar turn in the sadly obscure 1951 Robert Mitchum film His Kind of Woman.) And, as in Hamlet 2, many of the jokes and story developments are fairly obvious (though not nearly as many). The fake trailers at the beginning are hilarious, even though the gags are pretty easy. Big-budget films like this are likelier to run off the rails than something like Hamlet 2. But the opposite is true here. The pacing is snappy; the story moves along coherently, with clockwork precision; little plot details all make sense. It may be lame to say that the familiar elements here work better simply because the performers are good enough to sell them, but that’s a large part of it: Stiller is terrific, and Downey is somewhat better than terrific – inspired. The entire supporting cast delivers. The only weak spot is Black, whose character is more of a cartoon than the others. Tropic Thunder really is hysterical; and it even manages, now and then, to surprise. ✶

Hamlet 2. Directed by Andrew Fleming. Written by Pam Brady & Andrew Fleming. With Steve Coogan, Catherine Keener, Joseph Julian Soria, Skylar Astin, Phoebe Strole, Melonie Diaz, David Arquette, and Elisabeth Shue. Opens Friday citywide. Tropic Thunder. Directed by Ben Stiller. Screenplay by Justin Theroux & Ben Stiller and Etan Cohen; story by Ben Stiller & Justin Theroux. With Ben Stiller, Robert Downey Jr., Jack Black, Jay Baruchel, Brandon T. Jackson, Steve Coogan, Danny R. McBride, Nick Nolte, Matthew McConaughey, and Tom Cruise. Citywide.

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UNIVERSAL CITY CityWalk Stadium 19 with IMAX® 800/FANDANGO #707 On 2 Screens Fri-Sun 11:30 AM, 12:30, 2:00, 3:00, 4:30, 5:30, 7:00, 8:00, 9:30 & 10:30 PM Mon & Tue 12:30, 2:00, 3:00, 4:30, 5:30, 7:00, 8:00, 9:30 & 10:30 PM Fri & Sat Late Show 12:10 AM Movie Parking Rebate $5 General Parking Rebate at Box Office with Movie Ticket Purchase (Excludes Preferred & Valet)

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LATEST REVIEWS CTHULHU What’s this? Tori Spelling, vampy bad girl of 1990s TV, appears in director Dan Gildark’s thriller about the monstrous, man-eating demon made famous by H.P. Lovecraft? Really, for a critic, that makes things much too easy. Unfortunately, it also happens to be the only easy thing about Gildark’s internally disjointed, murky, and ultimately derivative horror opus. Gay history professor Russell (Jason Cottle) returns from the Big City to his small hometown to attend the funeral of his mother. For years, he has been estranged from his creepy father (Dennis Kleinsmith), and before long, Russell’s intended brief visit

turns into a series of increasingly bizarre visions, as he discovers that dad actually heads a religion devoted to the diabolical Old Ones – ancient monsters who appear to live in the local harbor. Russell’s horrific experiences include witnessing a fatal car crash as he drives into town, getting lost in a cellar full of monstrous fish-headed babies, and running into the flirty Miss Spelling (playing a sexy townie) at a bar, where she tries to seduce him for sinister purposes of her own. Gildark orchestrates a decidedly effective mood of eerie unease. However, the pacing is unexpectedly inert, and screenwriter Grant Cogswell’s script is a ponderous and disjointed muddle. Few of the drama’s narrative elements make sense – what, it takes Russ ’til he’s 30 to realize that his pa is the leader of a cult of monster worshippers? The various visions are leadenly rendered, and the film clumsily tosses together bits of scares from

movies ranging from The Wicker Man to Rosemary’s Baby, with the “homages” sometimes being so overt they only call into question the filmmaker’s poor sense in trying to echo the other movies. (Paul Birchall) (Regent Showcase)

HAMLET 2 See Film feature.

I.O.U.S.A. According to Patrick Creadon’s unnerving documentary, by 2050, 75% of the national budget will be allocated for Social Security, Medicaid, and Medicare. The remaining 25% must cover oh, say, everything else. If we follow our current pattern, the government will borrow the difference from China, Japan, and the oil-rich Gulf States, already holding the tab for 46% of our current debt. What hap-

EVERYONE’S TALKING ABOUT

THE # 1 MOVIE IN AMERICA! PETER TRAVERS

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pens to our economy if just one of the three refuses to keep bailing us out ... or decides to collect? Dave Walker and Bob Bixby, the film’s activist stars, have spent the last year on a Fiscal Wake-Up Tour sounding the alarm. They break down the four major debt crises – trade, savings, loan, and leadership – and clarify aspects like the GDP versus the Trade Deficit. For his end, Creadon and co-writers Christine O’Malley and Addison Wiggin do their best to muck up the clarity. The doc’s editing and structure are a mess, the tone skips from plaintive to jocular, and the manon-the-street pop quizzes seem designed to prove only that we’re a nation of idiots. In this election year, we’re ready to debate solutions, but Creadon lazily orders us to a website. I’d rather he budgeted the 10 minutes to spell out the tough decisions our country must make: Retool our health and retirement funds. Reclaim our factories. Readjust to the higher prices of American-made goods. Pay extra now or pay exorbitantly later. (Amy Nicholson) (Laemmle’s Sunset 5)

IN SEARCH OF A MIDNIGHT KISS It’s been a tough first year in Hollywood for Wilson (Scoot McNairy): His arrival was marked by a spectacular car crash; his laptop, along with his screenplay, was stolen; and just this morning he was caught in flagrante delicto with a Photoshopped picture of his roommate’s girlfriend. It’s New Year’s Eve, though – time for a fresh start – and Wilson reluctantly posts a personal ad on Craigslist for a last-minute date. Sexy, sassy Vivian (Sara Simmonds) responds, and, when he proves to be her best option among several candidates, the two explore the City of Angels together. Shooting on location in black and white – an allusion to Woody Allen’s Manhattan, but perhaps also to Raymond Chandler’s noir vision of the city and the shades of gray it acquires during the winter) – writer-director Alex Holdridge and his crew demonstrate affection for L.A. and its dilapidated downtown buildings, the skeevy part of Hollywood, and the beach. McNairy is a likable Steve Buscemi-esque lead, and, although initially grating, Simmonds ultimately endears herself. They’re dealing with uneven material, though – dialogue that’s alternately authentic and awkward; unconvincing conflicts; pop-culture references – PostSecret and the Lost Shoe Project – that are shoehorned in; and plot points that are forced or, worse, dropped. (Annlee Ellingson) (Laemmle’s Sunset 5, Laemmle’s Monica 4, Laemmle’s Town Center 5, Laemmle’s Playhouse 7)

THE LONGSHOTS The true story of 11-year-old Jasmine Plummer (Keke Palmer), the first girl to play Pop Warner football, is spun by director (and former Limp Bizkit leadman) Fred Durst as fairly routine family drama cum underdog sports tale. The bookish Jasmine, an only child being raised by a single mom several years after her layabout dad skedaddled, is introduced to football by her unemployed, semi-homeless uncle Curtis (Ice Cube). As surrogate family bonds begin to form, Jasmine and Curtis discover a newfound sense of purpose in life, just in time for Jasmine to quarterback the local Pop Warner team out of its doldrums and into an unlikely run for the championship. Hoosiers meets Rudy meets Gracie meets every other film of this type ever made: Nick Santora’s screenplay and Durst’s direction are workmanlike but painfully derivative and safe. What redeems the film somewhat are the performances – Cube continues to manifest uncanny spontaneity and naturalism in otherwise lackluster parts, while Palmer, though occasionally mannered and precocious (as she was in Akeelah and the Bee) is just as often a magnetic presence, a mountain of adult talent awkwardly trapped in an adolescent’s body. This hardly represents Palmer’s full bloom, though it does suggest that when that bloom comes, she will be a force to be reckoned with. (Wade Major) (Citywide)

WHAT WE DO IS SECRET

NOW PLAYING AT THEATRES EVERYWHERE Te xt T R O PI C to 33287 for Sh o w tim e s a n d M o bile C o nt e nt. St a n d ard m e ss a gin g ra t e s a p ply.

SPECIAL ENGAGEMENT - NO PASSES OR DISCOUNT TICKETS ACCEPTED

LACITYBEAT 24 AUGUST 21-27, 2008

8

Darby Crash (Shane West), Pat Smear (Rick Gonzalez), Lorna Doom (Bijou Phillips), and Don Bolles (Noah Segan) are the Germs, L.A.’s most unpredictable beautiful losers of those halcyon punk-rock days of 1977. Crash (ne Jan Paul Beahm) in particular is a brilliant, self-serving manipulator; a latchkey kid whose life philosophy is an unpleasant mix of fascist dogma and Nietzschean existentialism. But he’s mostly just plain two-faced, constantly building up his band mates and tearing them down – especially Bolles. Despite an acclaimed debut album and worshipful, masochistic audiences, Crash’s wanton life and confused bisexuality send him down a spiral of doomed musical decisions and, ultimately, death by drug overdose at age 22. Rodger Grossman’s lukewarm biopic owes much to Oliver Stone’s The Doors for most of its missteps: his characters explain rock-doc facts to the audience in the form of

stilted dialogue, and poorly impersonated local scenesters, such as DJ Rodney Bingenheimer, Masque founder Brendan Mullen, and Slash fanzine editor Claude Bessy, included for era-appropriate decoration, are distracting. Worse, the film almost completely defangs punk rock, turning its volume and energy and degradation into something rote: When Crash starts using heroin it shocks no one, least of all the viewer. What We Do is Secret strives to present the Germs as pioneers who dared go first where hundreds of others followed – the short-lived forefathers of a scene that long ago disowned them – but their impact here barely resonates. (Joshua Sindell) (Nuart)

ALSO OPENING THIS WEEK: America the Beautiful. Director Darryl Roberts’s documentary examines America’s obsession with physical perfection. Among the participants are Eve Ensler (The Vagina Monologues), Julianne Moore, Anthony Kiedis, Jessica Simpson, Paris Hilton, and Ted Casablanca. (AK) (Laemmle’s Sunset 5, Culver Plaza) Anita O’Day: The Life of a Jazz Singer. The eventful odyssey of Anita O’Day – who died two years ago at the age of 87 – is presented in this documentary from Ian McCrudden and Robbie Cavolina, O’Day’s last manager. (AK) (Laemmle’s Music Hall 3) Death Race. Eight years after its title’s expiration date, Paul Bartel’s 1975 classic Death Race 2000 gets a makeover from Paul W.S. Anderson (Resident Evil). The original starred David Carradine and the then-obscure Sylvester Stallone; this time around, for better or worse, you get Jason Statham, Tyrese Gibson, and Joan Allen. (AK) (Citywide) The House Bunny. Anna Faris portrays a Playboy bunny, who, after getting kicked out of Hef’s mansion, finds herself acting as house mother to a geek sorority. Fred Wolf directed; Colin Hanks, Christopher McDonald, and Beverly D’Angelo are among the supporting cast. (AK) (Citywide) The Rocker. Twenty years after getting booted from a famous rock group, a has-been drummer (Rainn Wilson), desperate for a comeback, pushes his way into his nephew’s garage band. Christina Applegate, Teddy Geiger, Josh Gad, Jeff Garlin, Jane Lynch, Will Arnett, and Howard Hesseman (!) costar. (AK) (Citywide) Ten Nights of Dreams. In this ten-part anthology film, the stories of turn-of-the-century writer Soseki Natsume are adapted by eleven directors, including Takashi Shimizu (The Grudge), animator Yoshitaka Amano, and the late Kon Ichikawa (The Burmese Harp, The Makioka Sisters). (AK) (ImaginAsian Center, 251 S. Main St., 213-617-1033, Theimaginasian.com/la) Trouble the Water. Tia Lessin and Carl Deal won the Grand Jury Prize at this year’s Sundance Festival for this documentary about an aspiring rap artist and her husband, from right before Hurricane Katrina hits the 9th Ward, through their attempts to escape, and to their return home. (AK) (Laemmle’s Sunset 5)

SHOWTIMES AUGUST 22-28, 2008 Note: Times are p.m., and daily, unless otherwise indicated. All times are subject to cha nge without notice.

BURBANK AMC Burbank 16, 140 E Palm Av, (818) 9539800. Cirque du Soleil: Delirium Sat-Sun noon. The Dark Knight Fri-Sun 10:30 a.m., 2, 5:30, 9. Death Race Fri-Sat 12:40, 3:25, 6:10, 8:55, 11:40; Sun 12:40, 3:25, 6:10, 8:55. Fly Me to the Moon 3-D Fri-Sun 10:40 a.m., 1, 3:30, 5:50, 8:10, 10:35. The House Bunny Fri-Sat 11:15 a.m., 1:50, 4:25, 7:05, 9:40, 12:15 a.m.; Sun 11:15 a.m., 1:50, 4:25, 7:05, 9:40. Journey to the Center of the Earth Fri 11:25 a.m., 1:55, 4:30, 6:55, 9:35; Sat-Sun 2:45, 5:15, 7:50, 10:20. The Longshots Fri-Sat 10:50 a.m., 1:35, 4:20, 7:10, 9:55, 11:35; Sun 10:50 a.m., 1:35, 4:20, 7:10, 9:55. Mirrors Fri-Sun 11:30 a.m., 2:15, 5, 7:45, 10:30. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor Fri-Sat 10:55 a.m., 1:45, 4:35, 7:25, 10:25; Sun 1:45, 4:35, 7:25, 10:25. Pineapple Express Fri-Sat 11:50 a.m., 2:40, 5:35, 8:30, 11:15; Sun 11:50 a.m., 2:40, 5:35, 8:30. The Rocker Fri-Sat 12:45, 3:20, 6:05, 8:40, 11:20; Sun 12:45, 3:20, 6:05, 8:40. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 Fri-Sat 11:10 a.m., 2:05, 5:05, 8, 10:55; Sun 11:10 a.m., 2:05, 5:05, 8, 10:45. Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fri-Sun 10:35 a.m., 1:10, 3:45, 6:20, 9. Tropic Thunder Fri-Sat 10:45 a.m., 12:25, 1:30, 3:10, 4:15, 5:55, 7, 8:40, 9:45, 11:25; Sun 10:45 a.m., 12:25, 1:30, 3:10, 4:15, 5:55, 7, 8:40, 9:45.

FRO M THE DIRECTOR OF “

THE FULL MONTY”

COMEDY HIT

“THE SURPRISE OF THE SUMMER!” BEN LYO NS, E!

“IT’S

‘SUPERBAD’ MEETS ‘SCHOOL OF ROCK’!” CARRIE KEA G A N, N GTV.C O M

“FLAT-OUT FUNNY.

Like Will Ferrell and Jack Black, Wilson has the ability to strike just the right note. It’s the same thing Bill Murray pulled off a generation ago.” RICHARD ROEPER, AT THE MOVIES WITH EBERT & ROEPER

“RAINN WILSON IS

HILARIOUS.”

JEFFREY LYO NS, NBC / REEL TALK

NOW PLAYING!

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will also receive the ULTIM ATE COLLEGE GR AND PRIZE EV ER which includes: • One month of FRE E pizza from D’Amore’s Pizza valued at $15 0 The #1 Pizza In The Nation! 1136 Westwood Blvd. 310-209-1212

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SUNSET JUNCTION Schedule of Talent HOOVER STAGE

TM C

M

HOOVER STAGE

Saturday, August 23

Sunday, August 24

12:00 1:30 3:00 4:30

DJ ALFRED HAWKINS DJ AL JACKSON DJ EDDIE ONE VILMA DIAZ

12:00 1:30 3:00 4:00

6:00 7:30 8:00 8:30 9:30

AUTHUR ADAMS MICHAEL HENDERSON JEANE CARNE BILLY PAUL SAM MOORE TRIBUTE TO ISAAC HAYES

5:30 7:00 8:00

Y

(Voice of La Sonora Dinamita)

DJ MEXICAN DUBWISER DJ CID HERNANDEZ CHARANGOA LESLIE PAULA & THE LATIN SOUL BAND NK BAND JEFFREY OSBORNE STEPHANIE MILLS

CM

MY

CY

CMY

K

SANBORN STAGE

SANBORN STAGE

Saturday, August 23

Sunday, August 24

12:00 1:30 3:30 5:00

12:00 1:30 3:30 5:00 6:30 8:00

6:30 8:00 9:30

DJ HAYCOC DJ Q-BWOY CAVA KIM HILL IS PHARAOH'S DAUGHTER THE REBIRTH NOTCH ANTIBALAS AFROBEAT ORCHESTRA

AZUL 213 DJ DREZ CHANA J DAVEY SISTER NANCY KINKY

BATES STAGE

BATES STAGE

12:00 12:50 1:40 2:30 3:20 4:10 5:00 6:10 7:40 9:20

12:00 12:50 1:40 2:30 3:20 4:10 5:15 6:45 8:30

Saturday, August 23 RADARS TO THE SKY HAPPY HOLLOWS CASTLE DOOR BODIES OF WATER JOHNATHAN RICE ENTRANCE LANGHORNE SLIM MENOMENA BROKEN SOCIAL SCENE COLD WAR KIDS

Sunday, August 24 THE HENRY CLAY PEOPLE VOXHAUL BROADCAST OLIVER FUTURE GRAM RABBIT HEALTH TBD/AUG. 17 BEACHWOOD SPARKS !!! (CHK CHK CHK) BLACK KEYS

CELEBRATING SUMMER WITH

BRIAN WILSON conductor

Fri SEP 12 8:30pm Sat SEP 13 8:30pm Sun SEP 14 7:30pm

NICK CAVE & THE BAD SEEDS SPIRITUALIZED CAT POWER Wed SEP 17 7:30pm

Don’t miss GEORGE BENSON 8/27, PEKING ACROBATS 9/7 & SING-A-LONG SOUND OF MUSIC 9/19

HOLLYWOOD BOWL

PART OF YOUR LIFE

A CELEBRATION OF RUMI:

OZOMATLI

The Sights and Sounds of Mystic Persia

MICHAEL FRANTI &

YO-YO MA & THE SILK ROAD ENSEMBLE

SPEARHEAD

LILA DOWNS NORTEC COLLECTIVE presents BOSTICH + FUSSIBLE Raul Campos, host

Sun SEP 21 7pm

KAYHAN KALHOR ENSEMBLE HAMID REZA NOURBAKHSH

THE WHIRLING DERVISHES OF DAMASCUS THE QADERI DERVISHES OF KURDISTAN NOUR MOHAMMAD DORPOUR OSTAD KABOLI SHOHREH AGHDASHLOO, IRAJ GORGIN

Sat SEP 27 7:30pm

KNOW BEFORE YOU GO!

SUNSET BLVD.

NORTH

Superior

SA

O M A T N

Client Proof

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. D V L B

A C NI

BOOTH Client: Size: Issue: Color: Rep:

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Vicky Cristina Barcelona Fri-Sun 11:35 a.m., 2:10, 4:40, 7:15, 10. AMC Burbank Town Center 8, 210 E Magnolia Bl, (818) 9539800. Bottle Shock Fri-Sat 11:55 a.m., 2:30, 5:15, 7:50, 10:30; Sun 11:55 a.m., 2:30, 5:15, 7:50, 10:20; Mon-Tue 1:55, 4:35, 7:05, 9:35. The Dark Knight Fri-Sat 12:15, 3:40, 7:10, 10:45; Sun 12:15, 3:40, 7, 10:15; Mon-Tue 2, 5:30, 9. Death Race Fri 1:45, 4:30, 7:15, 10; Sat-Sun 11 a.m., 1:45, 4:30, 7:15, 10; Mon-Tue 1:45, 4:30, 7:15, 10. Henry Poole Is Here Fri-Sun 7:30, 10:05; Mon-Tue 6:55, 9:30. The Longshots Fri-Sun 12:20, 3:05, 6, 8:50; Mon-Tue 1:35, 4:20, 7:10, 9:55. Mirrors Fri-Sun 1, 3:45, 6:30, 9:15; Mon-Tue 2:15, 5, 7:45, 10:30. Pineapple Express Fri 1:50, 4:45, 7:40, 10:35; Sat 11:05 a.m., 1:50, 4:45, 7:40, 10:35; Sun 11:05 a.m., 1:50, 4:45, 7:35, 10:10; Mon-Tue 1:50, 4:45, 7:35, 10:10. Step Brothers Fri 12:05, 2:35, 5:10, 7:45, 10:20; Sat 11:50 a.m., 2:35, 5:10, 7:45, 10:20; Sun 11:50 a.m., 2:35, 5:10, 7:40, 10:05; Mon-Tue 1:30, 4, 6:35, 9:05. WALL-E Fri noon, 2:25, 5; Sat-Sun 11:45 a.m., 2:25, 5; MonTue 1:40, 4:15. AMC Burbank Town Center 6, 770 N First St, (818) 953-9800. Death Race Fri-Sat 11:50 a.m., 2:35, 5:20, 8:05, 10:50; Sun 11:50 a.m., 2:35, 5:20, 8:05, 10:40; Mon-Tue 12:40, 3:25, 6:10, 8:55. The House Bunny Fri-Sat 12:15, 2:50, 5:25, 8, 10:40; Sun 12:15, 2:50, 5:25, 8, 10:35; Mon-Tue 1:50, 4:25, 7:05, 9:40. Mamma Mia! Fri-Sat 11:55 a.m., 2:30, 5:10, 7:55, 10:45; Sun 11:55 a.m., 2:30, 5:10, 7:55, 10:40; Mon-Tue 1:30, 4:15, 7, 9:35. The Rocker Fri-Sun 11:20 a.m., 2, 4:40, 7:20, 10; Mon-Tue 2, 4:40, 7:20, 10. Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fri-Sun 11:45 a.m., 2:25, 5, 7:35, 10:10; Mon-Tue 2:25, 5, 7:35, 10:10. Tropic Thunder Fri-Sat 11:35 a.m., 2:20, 5:05, 7:50, 10:35; Sun 11:35 a.m., 2:20, 5:05, 7:50, 10:25; Mon-Tue 2:20, 5:05, 7:50, 10:25.

Pacific Culver Stadium 12, 9500 Culver Bl, (310) 855-7519. Cirque du Soleil: Delirium Sat-Sun 2:30. The Dark Knight Fri-Sun 12:05, 3:45, 7, 10:15; Mon-Tue 12:30, 3:45, 7, 10:15. Death Race Fri-Sun 12:15, 2:45, 5:15, 7:45, 10:10; Mon-Tue 12:10, 2:50, 5:15, 7:45, 10:10. Fly Me to the Moon 3-D Fri 12:10, 2:30, 4:40, 7:05, 9:15; SatSun 12:10, 5, 7:05, 9:15; Mon-Tue 12:25, 2:35, 4:45, 7:25, 9:35. The House Bunny Fri-Sun noon, 2:25, 4:50, 7:15, 9:40; MonTue noon, 2:25, 4:45, 7:15, 9:40. The Longshots Fri-Sun 12:25, 2:40, 5:05, 7:35, 9:35; MonTue 12:05, 2:40, 5, 7:55, 10:05. Mamma Mia! Fri-Sun 1:20, 7:30; Mon-Tue 1, 7:05. Mirrors Fri-Sun 1:15, 4, 7:20, 9:50; Mon-Tue 1:20, 4:20, 7:20, 10. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor Fri-Sun 4:15, 10:20; Mon-Tue 4, 9:45. Pineapple Express Fri-Sun 1, 4:05, 7:25, 10:05; Mon-Tue 1:25, 4:10, 7:10, 9:50. The Rocker Fri-Sun 12:20, 2:50, 5:20, 7:55, 10:25; Mon-Tue 1:15, 4:05, 7, 9:30. Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fri-Sun 12:45, 3:20, 5:40, 8:05, 10:30; Mon-Tue 12:20, 2:45, 5:05, 7:30, 9:55. Tropic Thunder Fri-Sun 12:30, 1:30, 3, 4:35, 5:35, 7:10, 8:10, 9:55, 10:45; Mon-Tue 12:15, 1:35, 2:55, 4:50, 5:30, 7:50, 8:30, 10:15. UA Marina, 4335 Glencoe Av, (310) 823-1721. The Dark Knight Fri-Tue 11:50 a.m., 3:30, 7, 10:20. Death Race Fri-Tue 11:40 a.m., 2:20, 5:10, 7:50, 10:30. The House Bunny Fri-Tue 11:20 a.m., 2, 4:40, 7:20, 10. Open Captioned Performance - Selected Film - Daily Fri-Tue. The Rocker Fri-Tue noon, 2:30, 5, 7:40, 10:10. Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fri-Tue 11:10 a.m., 1:50, 4:30, 7:10, 9:40. Vicky Cristina Barcelona Fri-Tue 11:30 a.m., 2:10, 4:50, 7:30, 9:50.

CULVER CITY, MARINA DEL REY

Laemmle’s Grande 4-Plex, 345 S Figueroa St, (213) 617-0268. Mirrors Fri 5, 7:35, 10:10; Sat-Sun 1:55, 5, 7:35, 10:10; MonThur 5, 7:35. Tropic Thunder Fri 5:10, 7:45, 10:15; Sat-Sun 1:45, 5:10, 7:45, 10:15; Mon-Thur 5:10, 7:45. Magic Johnson Theaters, Baldwin Hills Crenshaw Plaza, 4020 Marlton Av, (323) 290-5900. The Dark Knight Fri-Sat 10 a.m., 1:10, 4:20, 7:35, 10:55; Sun 10 a.m., 1:10, 4:20, 7:35, 10:45; Mon-Tue noon, 3:30, 6:45, 9:55. Death Race Fri-Sat 11:15 a.m., 11:40 a.m., 2, 2:30, 4:45, 5:15, 7:30, 8, 10:15, 10:45; Sun 11:15 a.m., 11:40 a.m., 2, 2:30, 4:45, 5:15, 7:30, 8, 10:15, 10:40; Mon-Tue 2, 2:30, 4:45, 5:15, 7:30, 8, 10:15, 10:35. Hancock Fri-Sat 1:55, 7; Sun 11:25 a.m., 4:25, 7; Mon-Tue 1:55, 7. Henry Poole Is Here Fri-Tue 12:15. The House Bunny Fri-Sun 11:45 a.m., 2:25, 5:05, 7:40, 10:10; Mon-Tue 2:25, 5:05, 7:40, 10:10. Journey to the Center of the Earth Fri-Sun 10:05 a.m., 2:35, 4:50, 7:05, 9:40; Mon-Tue 2:35, 4:50, 7:05, 9:40. The Longshots Fri-Sat 11:20 a.m., 11:50 a.m., 2:15, 2:45, 5, 5:30, 7:45, 8:15, 10:30, 11; Sun 11:20 a.m., 11:50 a.m., 2:15, 2:45, 5, 5:30, 7:45, 8:15, 10:30; Mon 2:15, 2:45, 5, 5:30, 7:45, 8:15, 10:25; Tue 11:50 a.m., 2:15, 2:45, 5, 5:30, 7:45, 8:15, 10:25, 11. Mirrors Fri-Sun 11 a.m., 1:45, 4:35, 7:25, 10:05; Mon-Tue 1:45, 4:35, 7:25, 10:05. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor Fri-Sun 11:10 a.m., 1:50, 4:30, 7:20, 10; Mon-Tue 1:50, 4:30, 7:20, 10. Pineapple Express Fri-Sat 11:30 a.m., 2:20, 5:10, 7:50, 10:40; Sun 11:30 a.m., 2:20, 5:10, 7:50, 10:35; Mon-Tue 2:20, 5:10, 7:50, 10:30. The Rocker Fri-Sun 11:35 a.m., 2:10, 4:40, 7:15, 9:45; MonTue 2:10, 4:40, 7:15, 9:45. Space Chimps Fri-Sun 10:30 a.m., 12:45, 2:50, 4:55, 7:10, 9:30; Mon-Tue 12:45, 2:50, 4:55, 7:10, 9:30. Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fri-Sat 10:10 a.m., 12:30, 3, 5:25, 7:55, 10:35; Sun 10:10 a.m., 12:30, 3, 5:25, 7:55, 10:20; Mon-Tue 12:30, 3, 5:25, 7:55, 10:20. Step Brothers Fri-Sat 11:25 a.m., 4:25, 9:35; Sun 1:55, 9:35; Mon-Tue 4:25, 9:35. Tropic Thunder Fri-Sat 11:55 a.m., 2:40, 5:20, 8:05, 10:50; Sun 11:55 a.m., 2:40, 5:20, 8:05, 10:45; Mon 2:40, 5:20, 8:05, 10:40; Tue 2:40, 5:20, 8:05, 10:45. University Village 3, 3323 S Hoover St, (213) 748-6321. The Longshots Fri-Sat 11:40 a.m., 2, 4:20, 6:40, 9, 11:20; SunThur 11:40 a.m., 2, 4:20, 6:40, 9. Mirrors Fri-Sat 11:30 a.m., 2:10, 4:50, 7:30, 10:10, 12:35 a.m.; Sun-Thur 11:30 a.m., 2:10, 4:50, 7:30, 10:10. Tropic Thunder Fri-Sat noon, 2:35, 5:10, 7:45, 10:20, 12:40 a.m.; Sun-Thur noon, 2:35, 5:10, 7:45, 10:20.

The Bridge: Cinema De Lux & IMAX Theater, The Promenade at Howard Hughes Center, 6081 Center Dr, Westchester, (310) 568-3375. Cirque du Soleil: Delirium Sat-Sun 1. The Dark Knight Fri-Tue 12:45, 4, 7:15, 10:30. Death Race Fri 1:40, 4:20, 7, 9:40, 12:05 a.m.; Sat 11 a.m., 1:40, 4:20, 7, 9:40, 12:05 a.m.; Sun 11 a.m., 1:40, 4:20, 7, 9:40; Mon-Tue 1:40, 4:20, 7, 9:40. Fly Me to the Moon 3-D Fri 12:40, 2:50, 5, 7:10, 9:20, 11:30; Sat 10:30 a.m., 12:40, 2:50, 5, 7:10, 9:20, 11:30; Sun 10:30 a.m., 12:40, 2:50, 5, 7:10, 9:20; Mon-Tue 12:40, 2:50, 5, 7:10, 9:20. The House Bunny Fri-Sat 11:55 a.m., 2:15, 4:40, 7:10, 9:45, midnight; Sun-Tue 11:55 a.m., 2:15, 4:40, 7:10, 9:45. Journey to the Center of the Earth 3D Fri-Tue 11:45 a.m., 2:10, 4:35. The Longshots Fri-Sat 12:15, 2:30, 4:45, 7:05, 9:30, 11:45; Sun-Tue 12:15, 2:30, 4:45, 7:05, 9:30. Mirrors Fri-Sat 11:15 a.m., 1:55, 4:35, 7:20, 10, 12:30 a.m.; Sun-Tue 11:15 a.m., 1:55, 4:35, 7:20, 10. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor Fri-Sat 11:20 a.m., 2, 4:40, 7:20, 10, 12:35 a.m.; Sun-Tue 11:20 a.m., 2, 4:40, 7:20, 10. Pineapple Express Fri-Sat 11:30 a.m., 2:10, 4:50, 7:30, 10:10, 12:30 a.m.; Sun-Tue 11:30 a.m., 2:10, 4:50, 7:30, 10:10. The Rocker Fri-Sat 11:15 a.m., 1:45, 4:30, 7:15, 9:50, 12:20 a.m.; Sun-Tue 11:15 a.m., 1:45, 4:30, 7:15, 9:50. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 Fri 6:45, 9:30, 12:15 a.m.; Sat 11 a.m., 6:45, 9:30, 12:15 a.m.; Sun 11 a.m., 6:45, 9:30; Mon-Tue 6:45, 9:30. Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fri noon, 1:25, 2:20, 3:50, 4:40, 6:15, 8:35, 10:45; Sat-Sun 11 a.m., noon, 1:25, 2:20, 3:50, 4:40, 6:15, 8:35, 10:45; Mon-Tue noon, 1:25, 2:20, 3:50, 4:40, 6:15, 8:35, 10:45. Step Brothers Fri-Sat 7, 9:25, 11:50; Sun-Tue 7, 9:25. Sushi Pack the Movie Sun 10 a.m.; Tue 10 a.m. Tropic Thunder Fri-Sun 11:45 a.m., 12:15, 2:15, 2:45, 5, 5:30, 7:40, 8:15, 10:15, 10:45; Mon 12:15, 2:45, 5, 5:30, 7:40, 8:15, 10:15, 10:45; Tue 11:45 a.m., 12:15, 2:15, 2:45, 5, 5:30, 7:40, 8:15, 10:15, 10:45. Wonder Pets: Save the Owl/Three Pigs Sat only, 10 a.m.. Culver Plaza Theatre, 9919 Washington Blvd, (310) 8365516. America the Beautiful 12:40, 2:55, 5:15, 7:35, 10. Blade Runner Wed only, 7. Bottle Shock Fri-Sat 12:30, 3, 5:20, 7:40, 9:55; Sun 3, 5:20, 7:40, 9:55; Mon-Thur 12:30, 3, 5:20, 7:40, 9:55. Brideshead Revisited 2:25, 5:05. God Tussi Great Ho Fri 4:30, 9:45; Sat 4; Sun 4, 10; MonThur 4:30. Hancock 12:20, 7:50, 9:50. Singh Is Kinng Fri 1, 4, 7, 10; Sat-Sun 1, 7, 10; Mon-Tue 1, 4, 7; Wed 1, 4; Thur 1, 4, 7. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 Fri noon, 2:15, 7:25; Sat-Sun 1:35; Mon-Thur noon, 2:15, 7:25. Transsiberian Fri 2:45, 5:05, 7:25, 9:45; Sat 12:45, 2:45, 5:05, 7:25, 9:45; Sun-Thur 2:45, 5:05, 7:25, 9:45. WALL-E 12:45. Loews Cineplex Marina Marketplace, 13455 Maxella Av, (310) 827-9588. The Longshots Fri 2, 4:45, 7:30, 10:15; SatSun 11:20 a.m., 2, 4:45, 7:30, 10:15; Mon-Thur 1:55, 4:35, 7:10, 9:50. Mamma Mia! Fri 4:15, 6:50; Sat-Sun 10:50 a.m., 4:15, 6:50; Mon-Thur 4:15, 6:50. Mirrors Fri-Sun 1:15, 4, 7, 9:45; Mon-Thur 1:15, 4, 6:45, 9:20. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor Fri 1:25, 4:10, 7:05, 9:55; Sat-Sun 10:45 a.m., 1:25, 4:10, 7:05, 9:55; Mon-Wed 1:25, 4:10, 6:55, 9:35; Thur 1:25, 4:10, 6:55. Pineapple Express Fri 2:15, 5, 7:45, 10:30; Sat-Sun 11:30 a.m., 2:15, 5, 7:45, 10:30; Mon-Thur 2, 4:45, 7:20, 10. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 1:30, 9:30. Tropic Thunder Fri 1:45, 4:30, 7:15, 10; Sat-Sun 11:10 a.m., 1:45, 4:30, 7:15, 10; Mon-Thur 1:45, 4:20, 7, 9:45.

DOWNTOWN & SOUTH L.A.

HOLLYWOOD ArcLight Cinemas Hollywood, 6360 Sunset Bl, (323) 464-4226. Bottle Shock Fri 11:45 a.m., 2:15, 4:55, 7:25, 9:55; Sat 11:35 a.m., 2:15, 4:55, 7:25, 9:55; Sun 11:45 a.m., 2:25, 4:55, 7:25, 9:55; Mon 11:35 a.m., 2:25, 4:55, 7:25, 9:55; Tue 11:45 a.m., 2:25, 4:55, 7:25, 9:55. Casino Mon only, 8. The Dark Knight Fri-Tue 12:50, 4, 7:10, 10:20. Elegy Fri-Tue 11:15 a.m., 1:55, 4:35, 7:45, 10:35. Hamlet 2 Fri-Tue 4:45, 7:05, 9:25, 11:35. Mirrors Fri-Tue 11:50 a.m., 2:20, 5, 7:40, 10:40. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor Fri-Tue 11:30 a.m., 2, 4:40, 7:50, 10:25. Pineapple Express Fri-Tue 11:40 a.m., 2:10. Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fri-Mon 11:10 a.m., 1:40, 4:20, 7, 9:15; Tue 11:10 a.m., 1:40, 4:15, 7, 9:15. Traitor Tue only, 12:01 a.m. Tropic Thunder Fri-Tue 11:20 a.m., 12:20, 1:50, 2:50, 4:25, 5:40, 7:30, 8:30, 10:10, 11:15. Vicky Cristina Barcelona Fri-Tue 12:45, 3:05, 5:35, 8:15, 10:45, 11:30. Grauman’s Chinese, 6925 Hollywood Bl, (323) 464-8111. Death

Race Fri-Tue noon, 2:30, 5, 7:40, 10:20. Los Feliz 3, 1822 N Vermont Av, (323) 664-2169. Hamlet 2 Wed-Thur 2, 4:30, 7, 9:30. Pineapple Express 2, 4:30, 7, 9:30. The Rocker Fri-Tue 2, 4:30, 7, 9:30. Vicky Cristina Barcelona 2, 4:30, 7, 9:30. Mann Chinese 6, 6801 Hollywood Bl, (323) 461-3331. Cirque du Soleil: Delirium Sat-Sun noon. Death Race Fri-Sat 3:50, 9, 11:30; Sun-Tue 3:50, 9. The House Bunny Fri-Sat 11:40 a.m., 2:10, 4:40, 7:20, 10, 12:20 a.m.; Sun-Tue 11:40 a.m., 2:10, 4:40, 7:20, 10. Journey to the Center of the Earth 3D Fri-Tue 1:50, 4:20, 7. The Longshots Fri-Sat 11:30 a.m., 2, 4:30, 7:10, 9:50, midnight; Sun-Tue 11:30 a.m., 2, 4:30, 7:10, 9:50. Mamma Mia! Fri 1, 6:30; Sat-Sun 6:30; Mon-Tue 1, 6:30. The Rocker Fri-Sat 11:50 a.m., 2:20, 4:50, 7:30, 10:10, 12:10 a.m.; Sun-Tue 11:50 a.m., 2:20, 4:50, 7:30, 10:10. Step Brothers Fri-Tue 11:20 a.m., 9:30. The X-Files: I Want to Believe Fri-Tue 12:10, 2:40, 5:10, 7:50, 10:30. Pacific’s El Capitan, 6838 Hollywood Bl, (323) 467-7674. Sleeping Beauty Thur only, 7. WALL-E Fri 10 a.m., 1, 4, 7, 9:45; Sat 7, 9:45; Sun-Wed 10 a.m., 1, 4, 7, 9:45. Pacific’s The Grove Stadium 14, 189 The Grove Dr, Third St & Fairfax Av, (323) 692-0829. Cirque du Soleil: Delirium SatSun 2:10. The Dark Knight Fri-Tue 12:05, 3:40, 7:10, 10:40. Death Race Fri-Sat 11:40 a.m., 2:25, 5:30, 8:15, 11, 12:35 a.m.; Sun-Tue 11:40 a.m., 2:25, 5:30, 8:15, 11. Hamlet 2 Fri-Tue 9:45 a.m., 12:25, 3:10, 5:45, 7:30, 8:20, 10:05, 10:55. The House Bunny Fri-Sat 10:10 a.m., 12:45, 3:20, 5:55, 8:30, 11:05, 12:20 a.m.; Sun-Tue 10:10 a.m., 12:45, 3:20, 5:55, 8:30, 11:05. Mamma Mia! Fri-Tue 11:20 a.m., 2:15, 5:05, 7:55, 10:50. Mirrors Fri-Tue 11:55 a.m., 2:50, 5:50, 8:35, 11:20. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor Fri-Tue 10:55 a.m., 1:50, 4:45. Pineapple Express Fri-Tue 11:05 a.m., 1:55, 4:50, 7:35, 10:25. The Rocker Fri-Sun 9:50 a.m., 12:30, 3:15, 5:55, 8:35, 11:15; Mon-Tue 11 a.m., 1:40, 4:20, 7:05, 10. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 Fri 10:25 a.m., 1:25, 4:30, 7:45, 10:45; Sat-Sun 10:50 a.m., 4:30, 7:45, 10:45; Mon-Tue 10:25 a.m., 1:25, 4:30, 7:45, 10:45. Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fri-Tue 11:50 a.m., 2:35, 5:15, 7:50, 10:30. Tropic Thunder Fri 9:30 a.m., 10:45 a.m., 12:10, 1:45, 2:55, 4:40, 5:40, 7:25, 8:25, 10:10, 11:10; Sat-Sun 9:30 a.m., 11:15 a.m., 12:10, 1:45, 2:55, 4:40, 5:40, 7:25, 8:25, 10:10, 11:10; Mon-Tue 9:30 a.m., 10:45 a.m., 12:10, 1:45, 2:55, 4:40, 5:40, 7:25, 8:25, 10:10, 11:10. Vicky Cristina Barcelona Fri-Tue 11:45 a.m., 2:30, 5:10, 7:45, 10:20. Regent Showcase, 614 N La Brea Av, (323) 934-2944. Cthulhu Fri 5:30, 7:30, 9:45; Sat 3:30, 5:30, 7:30, 9:45; Sun 3:30, 5:30, 7:30; Mon-Thur 5:30, 7:30, 9:45. Vine, 6321 Hollywood Bl, (323) 463-6819. Vista, 4473 Sunset, (323) 660-6639. Tropic Thunder Fri 4:20, 7, 9:40; SatSun 1:40, 4:20, 7, 9:40; Mon-Thur 4:20, 7, 9:40.

MARK COPELAND

LIVE!

WITH PAT LONGO'S BIG BAND

SAT., SEPT. 27TH 20 08 AT THE

S. MARK TAPER AMPHITHEATER BEVERLY HILLS 8PM TO BENEFIT TREEPEOPLE CALL 1-818-623-4877 FOR TICKET INFO

MARK COPELAND A l bums

I HAPPEN TO LIKE NEW YORK (20 03) Li le Girl Blue • The Man that Got Away Drinking Again • Without a Song Delovely • Do it Again Let’s Do It • I Happen to Like New York

NORTH HOLLYWOOD, UNIVERSAL CITY Century 8, 12827 Victory Bl, (818) 508-6004. The Dark Knight 12:10, 3:35, 7, 10:15. Death Race noon, 2:45, 5:15, 7:50, 10:25. The House Bunny 12:05, 2:35, 5:05, 7:30, 9:55. Mirrors 11:40 a.m., 2:20, 5, 7:40, 10:20. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor 11:45 a.m., 2:25, 5:10, 7:45, 10:30. Pineapple Express 11:35 a.m., 2:15, 4:50, 7:25, 10:05. Star Wars: The Clone Wars 11:55 a.m., 2:30, 4:55, 7:20, 9:45. Tropic Thunder Fri-Tue 11:25 a.m., 1:55, 4:30, 7:15, 9:50. Loews CityWalk Stadium 19 with IMAX, 100 Universal City Dr at Universal CityWalk, (818) 508-0588; IMAX Theater (818) 760-8100. Cirque du Soleil: Delirium Sat-Sun noon. The Dark Knight Fri-Sun 11:50 a.m., 3:10, 6:30, 10:10; MonTue 3:10, 6:30, 10:10. The Dark Knight: The IMAX Experience IMAX Fri-Sat 11 a.m., 2, 5:10, 8:20, 11:30; IMAX Sun-Tue 12:30, 3:40, 6:50, 9:55. Death Race Fri-Sat 11:10 a.m., 12:50, 1:50, 3:40, 4:40, 6:20, 7:20, 9, 10, 11:45, 12:35 a.m.; Sun 11:10 a.m., 12:50, 1:50, 3:40, 4:40, 6:20, 7:20, 9, 10; Mon-Tue 12:50, 1:50, 3:40, 4:40, 6:20, 7:20, 9, 10. Henry Poole Is Here Fri-Tue 1:55. The House Bunny Fri-Sat 11:30 a.m., 12:30, 2, 3, 4:30, 5:30, 7, 8, 9:30, 10:30, 12:10 a.m.; Sun 11:30 a.m., 12:30, 2, 3, 4:30, 5:30, 7, 8, 9:30, 10:30; Mon-Tue 12:30, 2, 3, 4:30, 5:30, 7, 8, 9:30, 10:30. Journey to the Center of the Earth Fri 12:20, 2:50, 5:20, 7:55, 10:25; Sat-Sun 2:50, 5:20, 7:55, 10:25; Mon-Tue 12:20, 2:50, 5:20, 7:55, 10:25. The Longshots Fri-Sun 11:35 a.m., 2:10, 4:50, 7:40, 10:20; Mon-Tue 2:10, 4:50, 7:40, 10:20. Mirrors Fri-Sat 12:35, 3:15, 5:50, 8:30, 11:15; Sun-Tue 12:35, 3:15, 5:50, 8:25, 10:50. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor Fri-Sat 1, 3:50, 6:45, 9:35, 12:20 a.m.; Sun-Tue 1, 3:50, 6:45, 9:35. Pineapple Express Fri-Sat 11:20 a.m., 12:40, 3:30, 4:20, 6:10, 7:10, 8:50, 9:50, 11:35, 12:30 a.m.; Sun 11:20 a.m., 12:40, 3:30, 4:20, 6:10, 7:10, 8:50, 9:50; Mon-Tue 12:40, 3:30, 4:20, 6:10, 7:10, 8:50, 9:50. The Rocker Fri-Sat 12:10, 2:55, 5:40, 8:10, 11; Sun-Tue 12:10, 2:55, 5:40, 8:10, 10:45. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 Fri-Tue 1:20, 4:10, 7:15, 10:05. Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fri-Tue 12:45, 3:20, 6, 8:15, 10:50. Step Brothers Fri-Sat noon, 2:30, 4:55, 7:30, 9:55, 12:25 a.m.; Sun-Tue noon, 2:30, 4:55, 7:30, 9:55. Tropic Thunder Fri-Sat 11 a.m., 11:40 a.m., 1:30, 2:20, 4:05,

AUGUST 21-27, 2008 35 LACITYBEAT

ZING! (1999) Something’s Go a Give • Goody Goody I Concentrate on You She’s Funny That Way Zing! Went the Strings of My Heart I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm The Co ee Song You’re Nobody ‘til Somebody Loves You This Can’t be Love • I’ll be Seeing You

LIVE IN CONCERT (20 06) I Love Paris • At Long Last Love She’s Funny That Way • Folsom Prison Blues You’d be so Nice to Come Home to Can’t We be Friends • Lady Is a Tramp Life is Beautiful

FREE IN HI-DEF MP3 spyware-f ree • ad-f ree

WWW.MARKCOPELAND.COM

5, 6:50, 7:50, 9:40, 10:40, 12:15 a.m.; Sun 11 a.m., 11:40 a.m., 1:30, 2:20, 4:05, 5, 6:50, 7:50, 9:40, 10:40; Mon-Tue 1:30, 2:20, 4:05, 5, 6:50, 7:50, 9:40, 10:40. WALL-E Fri-Sun 11:15 a.m., 1:40, 4:15, 6:40, 9:10; Mon-Tue 1:40, 4:15, 6:40, 9:10.

NORTHRIDGE, CHATSWORTH, GRANADA HILLS Mann Granada Hills, Devonshire St & Balboa Av, (818) 363-3679. The Dark Knight 11:50 a.m., 3:10, 6:40, 10. Death Race 11:20 a.m., 2, 4:50, 7:30, 10:10. The House Bunny 11 a.m., 1:40, 4:30, 7, 9:30. Mirrors 11:40 a.m., 2:20, 5:10, 7:50, 10:30. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor 10:50 a.m., 1:30, 4:10, 6:50, 9:40. Pineapple Express 11:30 a.m., 2:10, 5, 7:40, 10:20. The Rocker 11:10 a.m., 1:50, 4:40, 7:20, 9:50. Star Wars: The Clone Wars 10:30 a.m., 1:10, 3:50, 6:30, 9. Tropic Thunder noon, 2:40, 5:20, 8, 10:40. Pacific’s Northridge Fashion Center All Stadium 10, 9400 N Shirley Av, (818) 501-5121. The Dark Knight Fri-Tue 12:10, 3:35, 7, 10:20. Death Race Fri-Tue 2:05, 4:50, 7:25, 10:05. The House Bunny Fri-Tue noon, 2:30, 5, 7:40, 10:10. Mamma Mia! Fri-Sat 2, 4:55, 7:45, 10:35; Sun-Tue 2, 4:55, 7:45, 10:25.

Mirrors Fri-Sat 1:40, 4:25, 7:15, 10; Sun-Tue 1:40, 4:25, 7:15, 9:55. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor Fri-Sat 1:35, 4:35, 7:20, 10:15; Sun-Tue 1:35, 4:35, 7:20, 10. The Rocker Fri-Sat 12:05, 2:40, 5:15, 7:55, 10:30; Sun-Tue 12:05, 2:40, 5:15, 7:55, 10:25. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 Fri-Sat 1:45, 4:40, 7:35, 10:25; Sun-Tue 1:45, 4:40, 7:35, 10:15. Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fri-Tue 1:30, 4:20, 7:05, 9:35. Tropic Thunder Fri-Tue 1:50, 4:30, 7:10, 9:50. Pacific’s Winnetka All Stadium 21, 9201 Winnetka Av, Chatsworth, (818) 501-5121. Bottle Shock Fri-Sat 12:45, 3:15, 5:55, 8:25, 11; Sun-Tue 12:45, 3:15, 5:55, 8:25, 10:55. The Dark Knight Fri-Sat 12:55, 4:10, 7:25, 10:45; Sun-Tue 12:55, 4:10, 7:25, 10:40. Death Race Fri 12:35, 2:10, 3:10, 4:50, 5:50, 7:30, 8:30, 10:05, 11:05; Sat 11:35 a.m., 12:35, 2:10, 3:10, 4:50, 5:50, 7:30, 8:30, 10:05, 11:05; Sun 11:35 a.m., 12:35, 2:10, 3:10, 4:50, 5:50, 7:30, 8:30, 10:05, 11; Mon-Tue 12:35, 2:10, 3:10, 4:50, 5:50, 7:30, 8:30, 10:05, 11. Hellboy II: The Golden Army Fri-Tue 5, 7:50, 10:40. Henry Poole Is Here Fri 2:25; Sat-Sun noon, 2:25; Mon-Tue 2:25. The House Bunny Fri 12:30, 2, 3, 4:25, 5:25, 7, 8:10, 9:30, 10:40; Sat-Sun 11:45 a.m., 12:30, 2, 3, 4:25, 5:25, 7, 8, 9:30, 10:30; Mon-Tue 12:30, 2, 3, 4:25, 5:25, 7, 8, 9:30, 10:30. Journey to the Center of the Earth Fri 1:05, 3:30, 5:45, 8:05, 10:35; Sat-Tue 1:05, 3:25, 5:45, 8:05, 10:35.

The Longshots Fri-Tue 12:15, 2:35, 4:55, 7:10, 9:35. Mamma Mia! Fri 1:55, 4:30, 7:05, 9:40; Sat-Sun 11:10 a.m., 1:55, 4:30, 7:05, 9:40; Mon-Tue 1:55, 4:30, 7:05, 9:40. Mirrors Fri noon, 2:40, 5:20, 8, 10:45; Sat-Tue noon, 2:40, 5:20, 8:10, 10:45. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor Fri 1:30, 4:15, 7:20, 9:55; Sat 11:05 a.m., 1:40, 4:15, 7:20, 9:55; Sun 1:40, 7:20, 9:55; Mon 4:15, 7:20, 9:55; Tue 1:30, 4:15, 7:20, 9:55. Pineapple Express Fri 12:10, 1:50, 2:50, 4:40, 5:40, 7:15, 8:15, 9:55, 10:50; Sat-Sun 11:15 a.m., 12:10, 1:50, 2:50, 4:40, 5:40, 7:15, 8:15, 9:55, 10:50; Mon-Tue 12:10, 1:50, 2:50, 4:40, 5:40, 7:15, 8:15, 9:55, 10:50. The Rocker Fri-Tue noon, 2:35, 5:05, 7:45, 10:25. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 Fri 1:45, 4:35, 7:30, 10:15; Sat-Sun 11 a.m., 1:45, 4:35, 7:30, 10:15; Mon-Tue 1:45, 4:35, 7:30, 10:15. Space Chimps Fri-Tue 1:10, 3:20. Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fri 12:20, 2:45, 5:15, 7:45, 10:15; Sat-Tue 12:20, 2:45, 5:15, 7:40, 10:10. Step Brothers Fri-Tue 5:30, 7:55, 10:20. Tropic Thunder Fri 12:25, 2:05, 3:05, 4:45, 5:35, 7:20, 8:20, 9:50, 10:55; Sat 11:30 a.m., 12:25, 2:05, 3:05, 4:45, 5:35, 7:20, 8:20, 9:50, 10:55; Sun 11:30 a.m., 12:25, 2:05, 3:05, 4:45, 5:35, 7:20, 8:20, 9:50, 10:50; Mon-Tue 12:25, 2:05, 3:05, 4:45, 5:35, 7:20, 8:20, 9:50, 10:50. Vicky Cristina Barcelona Fri-Tue 12:15, 2:45, 5:10, 7:35, 10. Wanted Sun 11:05 a.m., 4:15; Mon 1:30.

SANTA MONICA AMC Santa Monica 7, 1310 Third Street Promenade, (310) 3953030. Cirque du Soleil: Delirium Sat-Sun noon. Death Race Fri-Sun 11:50 a.m., 2:30, 5:05, 7:40, 10:15; MonThur 2:30, 4:30, 7:20, 10. The House Bunny Fri-Sun 11:30 a.m., 2:10, 4:40, 7:15, 10; MonThur 12:05, 2:25, 4:50, 7:15, 9:50. Journey to the Center of the Earth Fri 11 a.m., 3:40, 10:40; SatSun 2:45, 10:40; Mon-Thur 3:10, 10:25. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor Fri-Sun 11:40 a.m., 2:15, 5, 7:50, 10:30; Mon-Thur noon, 2:35, 5:10, 7:45, 10:20. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 Fri-Sun 11:15 a.m., 2, 4:45, 7:30, 10:20; Mon-Thur 2, 4:45, 7:30, 10:15. Tropic Thunder Fri 11:05 a.m., noon, 1:40, 2:40, 4:20, 5:20, 7, 8, 9:40, 10:45; Sat-Sun 11:05 a.m., 12:15, 1:40, 2:50, 4:20, 5:20, 7, 8, 9:40, 10:45; Mon-Thur 12:10, 1:40, 2:40, 4:20, 5:20, 7, 8, 9:40, 10:30. WALL-E Fri 1:20, 6, 8:20; Sat-Sun 5:10, 7:45; Mon-Thur 12:45, 5:30, 7:50. Laemmle’s Monica 4-Plex, 1332 Second St, (310) 394-9741. Bottle Shock 1:30, 4:10, 7, 9:55. Elegy 1:50, 4:30, 7:10, 9:50. In Search of a Midnight Kiss 1:55, 4:40, 7:15, 10. Tell No One 1:20, 4:20, 7:20, 10:15. Loews Cineplex Broadway, 1441 Third Street Promenade, (310) 458-1506. Hamlet 2 Fri-Sun 10:50 a.m., 1, 3:20, 5:45, 8:10,

10:30; Mon-Thur 1, 3:20, 5:45, 8:10, 10:30. Mirrors Fri-Sun 11:20 a.m., 2, 4:40, 7:20, 10; Mon-Thur 2, 4:40, 7:20, 10. The Rocker Fri-Sun 11:05 a.m., 1:45, 4:20, 7, 9:45; Mon-Thur 1:45, 4:20, 7, 9:45. Vicky Cristina Barcelona Fri-Sun 10:30 a.m., 12:50, 3:10, 5:30, 7:55, 10:20; Mon-Thur 12:50, 3:10, 5:30, 7:55, 10:20. Mann Criterion, 1313 Third Street Promenade, (310) 3951599. Cirque du Soleil: Delirium Sat-Sun noon. The Dark Knight 12:20, 3:40, 7:10, 10:30. Fly Me to the Moon 3-D noon, 2:10, 4:20, 6:50, 9. The Longshots 11:40 a.m., 1:50, 4:30, 7, 9:30. Mamma Mia! 11:20 a.m., 2, 4:40, 7:30, 10:10. Pineapple Express Fri 11:30 a.m., 2:20, 5, 7:40, 10:20; SatSun 2:20, 5, 7:40, 10:20; Mon-Thur 11:30 a.m., 2:20, 5, 7:40, 10:20. Star Wars: The Clone Wars 11:50 a.m., 2:30, 4:50, 7:20, 9:50.

SHERMAN OAKS, ENCINO ArcLight Sherman Oaks, 15301 Ventura Bl, Sherman Oaks, (818) 501-0753. The Dark Knight Fri-Tue 11:55 a.m., 3:20, 7:10, 10:45. Death Race Fri-Tue 11:30 a.m., 2:05, 4:45, 7:40, 10:15. Fly Me to the Moon 3-D Fri-Tue 11:25 a.m., 1:35, 4:10, 7:15, 9:30. Hamlet 2 Fri-Tue 12:15, 2:35, 5, 7:50, 10:30. The House Bunny Fri-Tue 11 a.m., 1:30, 4:05, 7:05, 9:40. Mamma Mia! Fri-Tue 11:45 a.m., 2:45, 5:30, 8:15, 11. The Matrix Mon only, 7:30. Mirrors Fri-Sun 11:50 a.m., 2:40, 5:20, 8:05, 10:40; Mon 11:50 a.m., 2:40, 10:40; Tue 11:50 a.m., 2:40, 5:20, 8:05, 10:40. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor Fri-Tue 11:35 a.m., 2:10, 4:50. Pineapple Express Fri 12:25, 3:05, 5:45, 8:35, 11:15; Sat-Sun 12:25, 3:05, 5:50, 8:35, 11:15; Mon 12:25, 3:05, 5:45, 8:35, 11:15; Tue 12:25, 3:05, 5:50, 8:35, 11:15. Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fri-Tue 11:15 a.m., 1:45, 4:20, 7:35, 10:10. Swingers Sun only, 7:30. Tropic Thunder Fri 12:05, 2:50, 5:40, 7:30, 8:30, 10:20, 11:20; Sat-Tue 12:05, 2:50, 5:40, 7:35, 8:30, 10:20, 11:20. Vicky Cristina Barcelona Fri-Tue 11:20 a.m., 1:40, 4:30, 7:25, 10:05. Laemmle’s Town Center 5, 17200 Ventura Bl, Encino, (818) 9819811. Elegy Fri noon, 2:35, 5:10, 7:50, 10:15; Sat-Sun noon, 2:35, 5, 7:50, 10:15; Mon-Thur noon, 2:35, 5:10, 7:50, 10:15. Frozen River 1:50, 4:20, 7:20, 9:50. In Search of a Midnight Kiss noon, 2:30, 5, 7:30, 10. Man on Wire 2:45, 7:40, 10. Sixty Six 12:20, 5:10. Tell No One 1, 4, 7:10, 10. Mann Plant 16, 7876 Van Nuys Bl, Panorama City, (818) 779-

Your favorite Los Angeles pastime? What is your favorite secret thing about Los Angeles? L.A.’s best cultural treasure? Best music, art, theater, architecture? What is your favorite neighborhood and why? Or, come up with your own categories! Where in town do you go to escape? Best responses will be celebrated in the pages of LA CityBeat's REAL. BEST. L.A. on 9/25 *Post your answers at:

www.myspace.com/citybeatla, email: editor@lacitybeat.com or FAX 323.938.1771 LACITYBEAT 36 AUGUST 21-27, 2008

YOUR FAVORITE MOVIES ARE GOING TO BE DESTROYED.

INVITE YOU AND A GUEST TO SEE

FOR A CHANCE TO WIN A DISASTER MOVIE PRIZE PACKAGE INCLUDING A RUN-OF-ENGAGEMENT PASS FOR TWO AND THE ULTIMATE SKATEBOARD PACKAGE FROM PLANET MAPLE, SEND AN E-MAIL TO

DISASTERMOVIE@ ALLIEDADVPUB.COM. www.lionsgate.com/disastermovie

IN THEATERS AUGUST 2 9

INCLUDE YOUR NAME, ADDRESS, DAYTIME PHONE NUMBER, DATE OF BIRTH AND DISASTER MOVIE IN THE SUBJECT LINE.

THIS FILM IS RATED PG-13. PARENTS STRONGLY CAUTIONED. Some Material May Be Inappropriate For Children Under 13. Please note: Run-of-engagement passes are good Monday - Thursday (excluding holidays). Passes received through this promotion do not guarantee you a seat at the theatre. Seating is on a first come, first served basis and is open to paying customers. All federal, state and local regulations apply. A recipient of tickets assumes any and all risks related to use of ticket, and accepts any restrictions required by ticket provider. Lionsgate, Los Angeles CityBeat and their affiliates accept no responsibility or liability in connection with any loss or accident incurred in connection with use of a prize. Tickets cannot be exchanged, transferred or redeemed for cash, in whole or in part. We are not responsible if, for any reason, winner is unable to use his/her ticket in whole or in part. Not responsible for lost, delayed or misdirected entries. All federal and local taxes are the responsibility of the winner. Void where prohibited by law. No purchase necessary. Participating sponsors, their employees and family members and their agencies are not eligible. NO PHONE CALLS!

IN T H EATER S AU G U ST 2 9 N

0323. The Dark Knight 1:45, 3:15, 5:15, 8:30, 9:20. Death Race 11:30 a.m., 12:30, 2, 3, 4:40, 5:30, 7:10, 8, 9:40, 10:30. The House Bunny noon, 2:30, 5, 7:30, 10:10. Journey to the Center of the Earth 3D 11:45 a.m., 2:15, 4:45, 7:15, 9:45. The Longshots 11:50 a.m., 2:10, 4:40, 7:10, 9:30. Mirrors 11 a.m., 11:40 a.m., 1:40, 2:20, 4:20, 5:10, 7, 7:50, 9:40, 10:30. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor 11:10 a.m., 12:20, 1:50, 4:30, 6:30, 7:20, 10. Pineapple Express 11:20 a.m., 2:10, 4:50, 7:40, 10:20. The Rocker 12:10, 2:40, 5:10, 7:40, 10:20. Star Wars: The Clone Wars 11 a.m., 11:40 a.m., 1:30, 2:20, 4:05, 4:50, 6:30, 7:20, 9, 9:50. Tropic Thunder 11:10 a.m., noon, 1:40, 2:30, 4:10, 5, 6:40, 7:30, 9:10, 10.

“COMEDY

Pacific’s Sherman Oaks 5, 14424 Millbank St, Sherman Oaks, (818) 501-5121. Bottle Shock Fri 1:20, 4:20, 7:20, 10:05; Sat-Wed 1:20, 4:25, 7:25, 10:05; Thur 1:20, 4:20, 7:20, 10:05. The Longshots 1:25, 4:15, 7, 9:45. The Rocker Fri 1:30, 4:30, 7:35, 10:15; Sat-Wed 1:30, 4:30, 7:30, 10:15; Thur 1:30, 4:30, 7:35, 10:15. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 Fri 1, 4:05, 7:15, 10:10; Sat-Wed 1, 4:10, 7:15, 10:10; Thur 1, 4:05, 7:15, 10:10. Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fri 1:10, 4:10, 7:10, 9:55; Sat-Wed 1:15, 4:20, 7:10, 9:55; Thur 1:10, 4:10, 7:10, 9:55.

WEST HOLLYWOOD, BEVERLY HILLS, CENTURY CITY AMC Century City 15, 10250 Santa Monica Bl, (310) 277-2011. Cirque du Soleil: Delirium Sat-Sun

PETER TRAVERS

HEAVEN!

It’s Steve Coogan’s breakthrough star performance. He’s sensational. Catherine Keener is dazzling. Elisabeth Shue is hilarious playing herself.”

noon. The Dark Knight Fri-Sat 10 a.m., 1:25, 5, 8:30, midnight; Sun 9:50 a.m., 1:15, 4:40, 8:05, 11:25; MonTue noon, 3:30, 7, 10:30. Death Race Fri-Sat 11:30 a.m., 2:10, 4:55, 7:50, 10:45, 12:55 a.m.; Sun 11:30 a.m., 2:10, 4:55, 7:50, 10:45; Mon-Tue 11:50 a.m., 2:30, 5:10, 8, 10:40. The House Bunny Fri-Sat 9:45 a.m., 12:10, 2:40, 5:20, 8, 10:40, 12:25 a.m.; Sun 9:45 a.m., 12:10, 2:40, 5:20, 8, 10:40; Mon-Tue 12:20, 2:55, 5:30, 8:10, 10:50. The Longshots Fri 9:30 a.m., noon, 2:45, 5:25, 7:55, 10:30, 12:50 a.m.; Sat 9:30 a.m., 2:45, 5:25, 7:55, 10:30, 12:50 a.m.; Sun 9:30 a.m., 2:45, 7:55, 10:30; Mon-Tue 11:40 a.m., 2:25, 5:20, 8:05, 10:55. Mamma Mia! Fri-Sun 10:40 a.m., 1:30, 4:15, 7:05, 9:50; Mon-Tue 11 a.m., 1:35, 4:20, 7:05, 9:45. Mirrors Fri-Sat 9:35 a.m., 12:15, 2:50, 5:30, 8:20, 11:10; Sun 12:15, 2:50, 5:30, 8:20, 11:05; MonTue 10:55 a.m., 1:40, 4:25, 7:15, 9:55. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor Fri-Sat 11:35 a.m., 2:20, 5:15, 8:10, 11; Sun 11:35 a.m., 2:20, 5:15, 8:10, 10:50; Mon-Tue 11:20 a.m., 2:05, 4:55, 7:55, 10:45. Pineapple Express Fri-Sun 10:50 a.m., 1:40, 4:20, 7:20, 10:20; Mon-Tue 11:10 a.m., 1:55, 4:35, 7:30, 10:15. The Rocker Fri-Sun 11:20 a.m., 2, 4:35, 7:25, 10:10; Mon-Tue 11:30 a.m., 2, 4:45, 7:25, 10:05. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 Fri-Sun 10:10 a.m., 1:10, 4:10, 7, 10; Mon-Tue 10:50 a.m., 1:50, 4:40, 7:35, 10:25. Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fri-Sun 9:40 a.m., 12:05, 2:30, 5:05, 7:40, 10:15; Mon-Tue 12:10, 2:40, 5:05, 7:50, 10:20. Step Brothers Fri-Sun 11:15 a.m., 1:55, 4:50, 7:35, 10:05; Mon-Tue 11:45 a.m., 2:20, 5, 7:40, 10:10. Tropic Thunder Fri-Sat 9:30 a.m., 10:45 a.m., 12:20, 1:45, 2:55, 4:45, 5:35, 7:30, 8:25, 10:25, 11:20, 12:45 a.m.; Sun 9:30 a.m., 10:45 a.m., 12:20, 1:45, 2:55, 4:45, 5:35, 7:30, 8:25, 10:25, 11:10; Mon-Tue 11:05 a.m., 12:05, 1:45, 2:50, 4:30, 5:35, 7:20, 8:30, 10, 11:10. WALL-E Fri-Sun 11:25 a.m., 1:50, 4:25, 7:15, 9:45; Mon-Tue 11:25 a.m., 2:10, 4:50, 7:10, 9:40. Laemmle’s Music Hall 3, 9036 Wilshire Bl, (310) 274-6869. Anita O’Day: The Life of a Jazz Singer Fri 5:20, 7:40, 10; Sat-Sun 12:40, 3, 5:20, 7:40, 10; Mon-Thur 5:20, 7:40, 10.

Dayereh-e zangi Fri 5, 7:30, 10; Sat-Sun noon, 2:30, 5, 7:30, 10; Mon-Thur 5, 7:30, 10. Transsiberian Fri 5, 7:30, 10; Sat-Sun noon, 2:30, 5, 7:30, 10; Mon-Thur 5, 7:30, 10. Laemmle’s Sunset 5 Theatre, 8000 Sunset Bl, (323) 848-3500. America the Beautiful 1:30, 4:15, 7, 9:45. I.O.U.S.A. 12:15, 2:35, 4:55, 7:20, 9:45. In Search of a Midnight Kiss noon, 2:20, 4:50, 7:20, 10. Tell No One 1, 4, 7, 9:55. Trouble the Water 12:15, 2:35, 5, 7:35, 10. Beverly Center 13 Cinemas, 8522 Beverly Blvd., Suite 835, (310) 652-7760. American Teen Fri-Tue 12:40, 2:50, 5:10, 7:20, 9:40. Get Smart Fri-Tue 12:20, 2:40, 4:50, 7:20, 9:50. Hancock Fri-Tue 1:10, 5:20, 9:40. Henry Poole Is Here Fri-Tue 12:10, 2:30, 4:40, 7, 9:10. Iron Man Fri-Tue 12:20, 2:40, 5:10, 7:40, 10:10. Kit Kittredge: An American Girl Fri-Tue 12:30, 2:20, 4:40, 7, 9. Kung Fu Panda Fri-Tue 12:50, 2:50, 4:50, 6:50, 9:50. The Longshots Fri-Tue 1, 3:20, 5:40, 7:30, 9:50. Sex and the City Fri-Tue 12:30, 3:30, 6:30, 9:30. Space Chimps Fri-Tue 1:10, 3:20, 5:20, 7:10, 8:50. Step Brothers Fri-Tue 1, 3:10, 5:30, 7:50, 10. Swing Vote Fri-Tue noon, 2:30, 5, 7:40, 10. The Wackness Fri-Tue 12:50, 3:10, 5:30, 7:50, 10:10. Wanted Fri-Tue 3, 7:30.

WESTWOOD, WEST L.A. AMC Avco Center, 10840 Wilshire Bl, (310) 4750711. Death Race Fri 2, 4:30, 7:20, 9:45; Sat-Sun 11:35 a.m., 2, 4:30, 7:20, 9:45; Mon-Tue 2, 4:30, 7:20, 9:45. The House Bunny Fri 1:45, 4:10, 7:10, 9:30; SatSun 11:25 a.m., 1:45, 4:10, 7:10, 9:30; Mon-Tue 1:45, 4:10, 7:10, 9:30. Mirrors Fri 1:35, 4:20, 7, 9:35; Sat-Sun 11 a.m., 1:35, 4:20, 7, 9:35; Mon-Tue 1:35, 4:20, 7, 9:35. Pineapple Express Fri 1:30, 4:15, 7:05, 9:40; SatSun 11:05 a.m., 1:40, 4:15, 7:05, 9:40; Mon-Tue 1:30, 4:15, 7:05, 9:40. Laemmle’s Royal Theatre, 11523 Santa Monica Bl, (310) 477-5581. Sixty Six 12:30, 2:50, 5:10, 7:30, 10.

THE

H HIT SMF TAHSIS YEACRE’ S

O AN SUNDESTIVAL F FILM

“O’Day is the Epitome of Cool. A Heartfelt Documentary.” -Hilton -Hilton Als, Als, THE THE NEW NEW YORKER YORKER

“A Masterpiece of the Medium.”

AKER FILMMTER THE F A A Q& HOW, 7:40 SY 8/22. FRIDA

-Brick -Brick Wahl, Wahl, LA LA WEEKLY WEEKLY

STEVE COOGAN

CATHERINE KEENER

DAVID ARQUETTE

ELISABETH SHUE

“Confirms O’Day’s Place Among the Greats.” -V.A. -V.A. Musetto, Musetto, THE THE NEW NEW YORK YORK POST POST

“Fast-Paced, Enthralling...” -Stephen -Stephen Holden, Holden, THE THE NEW NEW YORK YORK TIMES TIMES

SOUNDTRACK FROM BULLETPROOF RECORDS NOW AVAILABLE IN STORES

FEATURING THE HIT SONG “ ROCK ME SEXY JESUS ”

SEE IT TODAY!

µ HOLLYWOOD ArcLight Cinemas at Sunset & Vine 323/464-4226 4 hours validated parking -$2

µ BEVERLY HILLS µ WEST LOS ANGELES § SANTA MONICA Pacific’s The Landmark AMC Loews Broadway 4 The Grove Stadium 14 at W. Pico & Westwood 800/FANDANGO #706 323/692-0829 #209 310/281-8233 µ SHERMAN OAKS ArcLight 4 hours on-site validated www.landmarktheatres.com Cinemas At the Sherman parking only $2.00. FREE PARKING Oaks Galleria 818/501-0753

¥ ORANGE AMC 30 At The µ PALM DESERT Cinemas § SANTA BARBARA Paseo Nuevo ∂ IRVINE Edwards Spectrum Stadium 21 800/FANDANGO #140 Block 714/769-4AMC Palme D’Or 760/779-0730 Cinemas 805/963-9503 SORRY, NO PASSES ACCEPTED FOR THIS ENGAGEMENT

CHECK THEATRE DIRECTORIES OR CALL FOR SHOWTIMES

AND AT THEATRES EVERYWHERE AUGUST 27TH

Text HAMLET 2 to 4FOCUS (436287) for Mobile Content MOBILE USERS: For Showtimes – Text HAMLET 2 with your ZIP CODE to 43KIX (43 549)

A

EXCLUSIVE ENGAGEMENT STARTS FRIDAY, AUGUST 22ND!

BEVERLY HILLS Laemmle’s Music Hall (310) 274-6869 Daily: 5:20 • 7:40 • 10:00 Sat. & Sun.: 12:40 • 3:00 • 5:20 • 7:40 • 10:00

AMPAS Members: Your card will admit you and a guest to any performance, subject to seating availability and individual theater policy, excluding the 7:40 show, Friday 8/22.

LACITYBEAT 38 AUGUST 21-27, 2008

Landmark’s Nuart Theater, 11272 Santa Monica Bl, (310) 281-8223. The Rocky Horror Picture Show Sat only, midnight. What We Do Is Secret Fri noon, 2:30, 5, 7:30, 10, 11:59; Sat-Sun noon, 2:30, 5, 7:30, 10; MonThur 5, 7:30, 10. Landmark’s Regent, 1045 Broxton Av, (310) 2818223. Hamlet 2 Wed-Thur 2:30, 5, 7:30, 10. Swing Vote Fri-Tue 7, 9:45. WALL-E Fri-Tue 1:45, 4:30. The Landmark West Los Angeles, 10850 W Pico Bl, (310) 281-8223. Bottle Shock 11:30 a.m., 2:15, 5, 7:45, 10:15. Brideshead Revisited Fri-Sat 11 a.m., 2, 5, 8, 10:50; Sun-Thur 11 a.m., 2, 5, 8. The Dark Knight Fri-Mon 11 a.m., 1, 2:15, 4:10, 5:30, 7:20, 8:45, 10:30; Tue 11 a.m., 1, 2:15, 4:10, 7:20, 10:30; Wed-Thur 11 a.m., 2:15, 5:30, 8:45. Frozen River Fri-Mon 12:30, 2:50, 5:15, 7:35, 10; Tue 12:30, 2:50, 5:15, 7:35; Wed-Thur 12:30, 2:50, 5:15, 7:35, 10. Hamlet 2 Fri-Sat 12:10, 1:20, 2:40, 3:45, 5:10, 6:15, 7:30, 8:40, 9:55, 11; Sun-Thur 12:10, 1:20, 2:40, 3:45, 5:10, 6:15, 7:30, 8:40, 9:55. Henry Poole Is Here Fri-Tue noon, 2:30, 5:10, 7:40, 10:05. Man on Wire 12:15, 2:40, 5:05, 7:30, 9:55. Tell No One 11:05 a.m., 1:50, 4:40, 7:35, 10:25. Vicky Cristina Barcelona Fri-Sat 11:45 a.m., 1, 2:20, 3:30, 4:50, 6, 7:20, 8:30, 9:50, 10:50; SunThur 11:45 a.m., 1, 2:20, 3:30, 4:50, 6, 7:20, 8:30, 9:50. Viva La Causa noon. Majestic Crest Theater, 1262 Westwood Bl, (310) 474-7866. The Longshots 2:30, 4:45, 7, 9:15. Mann Bruin, 948 Broxton Av, (310) 208-8998. Star Wars: The Clone Wars 11:40 a.m., 2:10, 4:40, 7:10, 9:40. Mann Festival 1, 10887 Lindbrook Av, (310) 2084575. The Dark Knight Fri-Tue 12:30, 3:45, 7, 10:15. Mann Village, 961 Broxton Av, (310) 208-5576. Tropic Thunder 11:10 a.m., 1:50, 4:30, 7:20, 10.

WOODLAND HILLS, WEST HILLS, TARZANA AMC Promenade 16, 21801 Oxnard St, Woodland Hills, (818) 883-2262. Cirque du Soleil: Delirium Sat-Sun noon. The Dark Knight Fri-Sat 10 a.m., 1:20, 4:45, 8:15, 11:45; Sun 10 a.m., 1:20, 4:45, 8:15; Mon-Tue 1:20, 4:45, 8:15. Death Race Fri-Sat 11:30 a.m., 2:05, 4:45, 7:25, 10:05, 12:30 a.m.; Sun 11:30 a.m., 2:05, 4:45, 7:25, 9:55; Mon-Tue 11:30 a.m., 2:05, 4:45, 7:20, 9:55. The House Bunny Fri-Sat 11:20 a.m., 1:45, 4:25, 7:10, 9:45, 12:10 a.m.; Sun 11:20 a.m., 1:45, 4:25, 7:10, 9:40; Mon-Tue 11:25 a.m., 1:45, 4:25, 7:10, 9:40. Journey to the Center of the Earth Fri 10:05 a.m., 12:40, 3:05, 5:35, 8, 10:25; Sat 3:05, 5:35, 8, 10:25; Sun 3:05, 5:35, 7:50, 10:10; Mon-Tue 3:05, 5:25, 7:45, 10:05. The Longshots Fri-Sat 11:15 a.m., 2, 4:40, 7:30, 10:15, 12:20 a.m.; Sun 11:15 a.m., 2, 4:40, 7:30, 10:10; Mon-Tue 11:20 a.m., 2, 4:40, 7:25, 10:05. Mamma Mia! Fri-Sun 10:40 a.m., 1:35, 4:15, 7:05, 9:45; Mon-Tue 1:35, 4:15, 7:05, 9:45. Mirrors Fri-Sat 11:10 a.m., 1:55, 4:55, 7:45, 10:50; Sun 11:10 a.m., 1:55, 4:55, 7:40, 10:40; Mon-Tue 1:55, 4:55, 7:35, 10:20. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor Fri-Sat 10:45 a.m., 1:25, 4:10, 7, 9:55; Sun 10:45 a.m., 1:25, 4:10, 7, 9:35; Mon-Tue 1:25, 4:10, 7, 9:35. Pineapple Express Fri-Sat 10:30 a.m., 1:15, 4, 7, 9:50; Sun 10:30 a.m., 1:15, 4, 7, 9:40; Mon-Tue 1:15, 4, 7, 9:40. The Rocker Fri-Sat 11:35 a.m., 2:10, 4:50, 7:35, 10:20; Sun 11:35 a.m., 2:10, 4:50, 7:35, 10:05; Mon-Tue 11:35 a.m., 2:10, 4:50, 7:30, 10. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 Fri-Sat 11:05 a.m., 1:50, 5, 7:55, 10:40; Sun 11:05 a.m., 1:50, 5, 7:45, 10:30; Mon-Tue 1:50, 5, 7:40, 10:30. Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fri-Sat 10:15 a.m., 12:45, 3:20, 5:50, 8:25, 11:05; Sun 10:15 a.m., 12:45, 3:20, 5:50, 8:10, 10:45; Mon-Tue 12:05, 2:35, 5:10, 7:40, 10:10. Step Brothers Fri-Sat 3, 5:30, 8:05, 10:35; Sun 3, 5:30, 7:55, 10:15; Mon-Tue 3, 5:30, 7:50, 10:15. Tropic Thunder Fri 10:50 a.m., 12:15, 1:30, 2:55, 4:20, 5:45, 7:15, 8:30, 9:55, 11:15, 12:30 a.m.; Sat 10:50 a.m., 12:15, 1:30, 2:55, 4:20, 5:45, 7:15, 8:30, 9:55, 11:15; Sun 10:50 a.m., 12:15, 1:30, 2:55, 4:20, 5:45, 7:15, 8:30, 9:50; MonTue 12:15, 1:30, 2:55, 4:20, 5:45, 7:15, 8:30, 9:50. Vicky Cristina Barcelona Fri-Sat 10:10 a.m., 12:35, 3:10, 5:40, 8:10, 10:45; Sun 10:10 a.m., 12:35, 3:10, 5:40, 8, 10:35; Mon-Tue 12:35, 3:10, 5:35, 7:55, 10:25. WALL-E Fri-Sun 10:05 a.m., 12:30; Mon-Tue 12:30. Laemmle’s Fallbrook 7 Cinemas, Fallbrook Mall, 6731 Fallbrook Av, West Hills, (818) 340-8710. Bachna Ae Haseeno Fri noon, 9:30; Sat 3, 6:15; Sun noon, 9; Mon; Tue noon, 3, 6, 9; Wed; Thur noon, 3, 6, 9. Bottle Shock Fri-Sun 1:30, 4:10, 7:30, 10; MonThur noon, 2:30, 5:10, 8:30. Brideshead Revisited 3:50, 7. Henry Poole Is Here Fri-Sun 1:40, 4:20, 7:20, 9:50; Mon-Thur 12:10, 2:40, 5:20, 8:20. Singh Is Kinng Fri 3, 6:15; Sat noon, 9:30; Sun 3, 6; Mon noon, 3, 6, 9; Tue; Wed noon, 3, 6, 9; Thur. Transsiberian Fri-Sun noon, 2:35, 5:10, 7:45,

10:15; Mon-Thur 1, 3:35, 6:10, 8:45. Vicky Cristina Barcelona Fri-Sun 1:50, 4:30, 7:10, 9:40; Mon-Thur 12:20, 2:50, 5:30, 8:10.

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See Showtimes and Special Screenings for more info. Capsule reviews by Andy Klein (AK), Paul Birchall (PB), Annlee Ellingson (AE), Mark Keizer (MK), Wade Major (WM), Amy Nicholson (AN), Brent Simon (BS), Joshua Sindell (JS), and others as noted.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 21 American Cinematheque at the Aero Theatre, Santa Monica, (323) 466-3456. Aerotheatre.com. Kevin Thomas's Favorites – The Last Picture Show (Director’s Cut), 7:30. American Cinematheque at the Egyptian Theatre, Hollywood, (323) 466-3456. Egyptiantheatre.com. The 8th Annual Festival of Sci-Fi, Fantasy & Horror – Alien, 7:30; followed by Aliens. CineFamily at the Silent Movie Theatre, Hollywood, (323) 655-2520. Silentmovietheatre.com. Don’t Knock the Rock ’08 – Under The Covers, 8; followed by Let Me Be Your Band. Q & A with Bill Day between films. New Beverly Cinama, L.A., (323) 938-4038. Newbevcinema.com. The Seven Samurai, 8.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 22 American Cinematheque at the Aero Theatre Post-Apocalyptic Film Festival – Wizards, 7:30; followed by Damnation Alley and A Boy and his Dog. American Cinematheque at the Egyptian Theatre Feel Good Film Festival – Begins in courtyard at 7, films begin at 9. Check fgff.org for official schedule. CineFamily at the Silent Movie Theatre The Female Gaze – Fat Girl, 7:30. Summer “Camp” – Fuego, 10; Criminally Insane, midnight. New Beverly Cinema The Whole Town’s Talking, 7:30; Two Rode Together, 9:25. Reservoir Dogs, 11:59. UCLA Film & Television Archive at the Billy Wilder Theater, Hammer Museum, 10899 Wilshire Bl, L.A., Info: (310) 206-3456 or Hammer.ucla.edu. Los Angeles Restoration Premiere – The Exiles, 7:30, 9:45; preceded by Bunker Hill.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 23 American Cinematheque at the Aero Theatre Post-Apocalyptic Film Festival – Last Man On Earth, 7:30; followed by The Omega Man and 12 Monkeys. American Cinematheque at the Egyptian Theatre Feel Good Film Festival, 10 a.m. Check fgff.org for official schedule. CineFamily at the Silent Movie Theatre Nakadai/Samurai – Bandits vs. Samurai Squadron, 7. When Animals Attack – Shakma, 10:30. New Beverly Cinema The Whole Town’s Talking, 3:25, 7:30; Two Rode Together, 5:30, 9:25. The Gate, 11:59. UCLA Film & Television Archive at the Billy Wilder Theater, Hammer Museum The Exiles, 11 a.m., 4, 7:30, 9:15; preceded by Bunker Hill.

America the Beautiful. See Also Opening This Week. Anita O’Day: The Life of a Jazz Singer. See Also Opening This Week. Bottle Shock. Based on a true story, and set in 1976, Bottle Shock weaves together the stories of novice California vintner Jim Barrett (Bill Pullman), his unfocused son Bo (Chris Pine, laboring under a ridiculous wig), and struggling Parisian wine seller Steven Spurrier (Alan Rickman). Seeking a way to boost his business and reputation, Spurrier strikes upon the notion of a blind taste test for the French cognoscenti and heads to California's then-nascent vineyards, whose purveyors he regards as dilettantes, as a mere formality to round out his offerings. What he discovers alters the history of wine-making forever. There's a deeper, more interesting movie to be made about the Napa Valley boom, but cowriter/director Randall Miller (Marilyn Hotchkiss Ballroom Dancing & Charm School) seems happy to aim lower and play for lightweight delights. The movie looks gorgeous, and for every utterly frustrating scene, there are one or two good ones, particularly involving Rickman, as a snobby Englishman in an even snobbier French game. (BS) Brideshead Revisited. Oxford student Charles Ryder (Matthew Goode) becomes fast friends with gay aristocratic Sebastian Flyte (Ben Whishaw). Soon he is deeply involved with the wealthy Flyte family, including matriarch Lady Marchmain (Emma Thompson), an utterly devout Catholic; Lord Marchmain (Michael Gambon), who has fled to Venice with his mistress (Greta Scacchi); and Sebastian's sister Julia (Hayley Atwell). Brit novelist Evelyn Waugh’s best known work was previously dramatized as an immensely popular eleven-part 1981 TV miniseries starring Jeremy Irons. Under the intimidating shadow of that presentation, director Julian Jarrold (Becoming Jane) and screenwriters Jeremy Brock and Andrew Davies have come up with this bigscreen version. It plays out in the familiar manner of toney British literary adaptations, but, in being boiled down to a manageable 2 1/4 hours, the thematic development becomes lopsided. The Catholic issues that become dominant toward the end may prove, for non-Catholics, strictly from Alpha Centauri. I wish I could say Brideshead Revisited drew me into its struggles with faith and grace, but, sadly, I felt suddenly abandoned toward the end, as though Jarrold had inexplicably decided to have his actors switch to speaking Finno-Ugric for the

final scenes. (AK) Cthulhu. See Latest Reviews. The Dark Knight. In Christopher Nolan's ambitious and hugely entertaining followup to Batman Begins, the caped crusader (Christian Bale) goes up against the Joker (Heath Ledger, in a strange and memorable performance), while trying to position D.A. Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart) as the public “white knight” to take over from his own extralegal “dark knight.” Complicating matters is that Harvey is dating Bruce Wayne's longtime love, Rachel Dawes (Maggie Gyllenhaal, replacing Katie Holmes, in the only major casting discontinuity), and that Harvey – as anyone with a passing knowledge of Batman lore knows – is destined to go mad and turn into Two-Face. The Joker takes over Gotham crime, but for reasons scarier than greed: he is a force of chaos, who wants to wreak havoc for its own sake, to put average law-abiding citizens into a position where they must confront their own hearts of darkness. Despite the multi-thread plot and the various character and theme levels, The Dark Knight is very close to all-action. It's another step in Nolan's attempt to make action blockbusters more "serious" without stripping them of the genre's benefits. The down side: there is almost no humor; it's downright somber, even grim. (AK) Death Race. See Also Opening This Week. Elegy. Isabel Coixet’s carefully observed autumnal character study, based on Philip Roth's novel, charts the relationship between a celebrated college professor, David Kepesh (Ben Kingsley), and Consuela Castillo (Penelope Cruz), a gorgeous student who punctures his wry, protective veneer. As their affair ignites, frays, and recommences, Kepesh must come to grips with the possibility of a deeper love. As adapted by Nicholas Meyer, Elegy alternately gallops and yawns. Even at 112 minutes, it tries to cover too much ground and fails to fully keep up with the ambition of its narrative roots. he performances here are committed and quietly engaging, and Coixet, serving as her own camera operator, beautifully captures the lingering, jangled spaces between all parties, and they ways even the most intelligent among us can build up a justification for walls of isolation. (BS) The Exiles. Yvonne (Yvonne Williams) and Homer (Homer Kish) have a rundown apartment in Bunker Hill’s Native American ghetto, ca. 1960. During the one long night that Kent Mackenzie’s 1961 film shows us, Homer drops Yvonne at a movie theater and frolics till dawn with his buddies: He and Rico (Rico Rodriguez) head for a poker game, while Tommy (Tom Reynolds) and Cliff (Clifford Ray Sam) cruise neighborhood saloons and pick up chicks. After various activities – drunken speeding, bar brawls, dancing – the four all end up atop Hill X, where a bunch of other locals are partying and nostalgically singing their tribal chants. Like Charles Burnett's 1977 Killer of Sheep – released last year to great acclaim after three decades on the

shelf – Kent Mackenzie's 1961 The Exiles is a heretofore lost artifact of Los Angeles history restored by the UCLA Archive and picked up for release by Milestone Films. Basing the characters’ voiceover narration on interviews with the actors, Mackenzie imposes no obvious attitude or mediating outsider's perspective on the material; he just presents it to us, a snapshot of an otherwise unknown culture, with details specific to its time and place. The cinematography is painstakingly worked out; only some bad looping gets in the way of the experience. (AK) Fly Me to the Moon. The second cartoon this summer to open with ape Ham I strapping into a space suit, Fly Me to the Moon has two advantages over rival Space Chimps: it's marginally smarter and in 3-freaking-D. These are watery compliments for a pleasant unassuming film. Aside from a few oh-yeah! dazzlers, dimensionalizing the story of three young house flies – the hero, the geek, and the fatty – who slip aboard Apollo 11 doesn't maximize its visual potential. The plot – the usual be-ahero stuff – is unessential; the science stops with "Wow! Look! The moon!" Back in their Houston swamps, we spend a little too much time with their families: three nervous moms nursing round pink maggots, and a daredevil Gramps still reminiscing about his old love Nadja, a Russian insect built like Charo, and his flight across the Atlantic with Amelia Earhart. Forming the killjoy truth committee are biologists in the audience compelled to note that the 41-year gap between Earhart and Armstrong would make Gramps as relatively ancient as King Tut, as well as Buzz Aldrin, who interrupts the credits to insist that at no time was the Apollo 11 infected with "contaminants." (AN) Frozen River. Two struggling single mothers – one white, the other Native American – form a dangerous axis of convenience when they col-

laborate to smuggle illegal immigrants across the New York-Canada border by way of the Mohawk reservation that straddles it. Ray (Melissa Leo) is a classic blue collar case – a beleaguered divorcee who simply wants to earn enough money to move her boys out of their cramped trailer and into a more luxurious double-wide. Lila (Misty Upham) is more complex – an angry widow, ostracized by her own people, bitter at whites, frustrated at her perceived inadequacies as a mother. Made on a shoestring and filmed to great effect in snow-laden upstate New York locations, the 2008 Sundance Film Festival Grand Jury Prize-winner is written and directed with exceptional polish by Courtney Hunt – a delicate film that could easily have become more of a lecture than a character piece. As it stands, it's one of the year's best, boasting a performance from Leo that may well land her some well-deserved awards consideration come year-end. (WM) Hamlet 2. See Film feature. Hancock. Hancock (Will Smith) is a down-andout superhero, who looks like a wino (and pretty much is). He can't intervene in a highspeed freeway pursuit without causing far more damage than the fugitives ever could have. As a result, he's constantly taking guff from the citizenry, and he responds with misanthropic insults. When Hancock saves the life of p.r. flack Ray Embrey (Jason Bateman), Ray convinces him to work on his public image; and soon the "new" Hancock is the toast of the town. Everyone seems to love him, except for Ray's wife, Mary (Charlize Theron), who is curiously unfriendly. Peter Berg’s film starts out as a standard superhero action/comedy, with the emphasis on the latter, in the manner of Superman or The Last Action Hero. But about three-fifths of the way in, things take a sudden turn, with a plot development that caught me (and most of the

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SUNDAY, AUGUST 24 American Cinematheque at the Aero Theatre Art Directors Guild Screening – Heller in Pink Tights, 5:30. Presentation prior to film & discussion following with Gene Allen. American Cinematheque at the Egyptian Theatre Feel Good Film Festival, 11 a.m. Check fgff.org for official schedule. CineFamily at the Silent Movie Theatre Frank Zappa’s The Amazing Mr. Bickford, 7:30, 9:30; followed by Q & A with director Bruce Bickford. New Beverly Cinema The Pink Panther, 6:30; A Shot in the Dark, 8:45.

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MONDAY, AUGUST 25 New Beverly Cinema The Pink Panther, 7:30. A Shot in the Dark, 9:45.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 26 CineFamily at the Silent Movie Theatre Cas’l and Other Unreleased Bruce Bickford Films, 8; with live performance by Bruce Bickford. L.A. County Museum of Art, Leo S. Bing Theatre, L.A., (323) 857-6010. Lacma.org. Tuesday Matinee – Robin and the Seven Hoods, 1.

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WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 27 CineFamily at the Silent Movie Theatre Silent Satyrs – The Eagle, 8. New Beverly Cinema The Return of the Living Dead, 7:30; Feast, 10.

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audience I was with) totally by surprise, despite a number of ambiguous hints along the way. While this switcheroo has put off many critics, it is precisely what I found most interesting about Hancock. The tone becomes more serious and the plot more complicated. (AK) Hellboy II: The Golden Army. More than any studio filmmaker working today, Guillermo del Toro (Pan's Labyrinth) knows how to blend practical effects and CGI, maximizing what most captures the eye and imagination about each. That collagist skill and sense of detail made 2004's Hellboy a kick in the pants, and it similarly informs the new sequel, which finds gruff, reluctant crime-fighter Hellboy (Ron Perlman) trying to stop an elven prince, Nuada (Luke Goss), hellbent on reanimating a long dormant collection of unstoppable, robotic killers. If the domestic woes of Hellboy and Liz Sherman (Selma Blair) doesn't quite bristle with the same angsty, hormonal energy of the first movie, Hellboy II doesn't abandon its sense of humor about itself or its characters. The action sequences seem very much dictated by studio structure notes, and are sometimes choppily edited or abruptly concluded. Still, one easily forgives these slips, given all the eye-popping creature designs and a troll market sequence that, like the cantina scene from the original Star Wars, will set adolescent imaginations on fire. (BS) Henry Poole Is Here. His life in shambles, despondent Henry (Luke Wilson) buys a house in the same suburban Los Angeles neighborhood where he somewhat unhappily grew up. One of his new neighbors, Esperanza (Babel's Adriana Barraza), sees a stain on his newly painted, outdoor stucco wall that she believes to be the face of Christ, and imbued with special powers. Henry wants nothing to do with the silliness, but more interactions with those

around him – including divorcee Dawn (Radha Mitchell), whose eight-year-old daughter has stopped speaking since her parents' breakup – slowly draw him out of his insular shell. Director Mark Pellington has always been a master of atmosphere and mood, most notably in The Mothman Prophecies. Here, though, he rolls the dice on a much more personal story and succeeds in crafting an affecting movie about emotional waywardness and quiet reflection. Pellington's extraordinary skill at marrying artful image and emotional content help Henry Poole avoid a lot of treacly downward drag, elevating the emotional punch of debut screenwriter Albert Torres' script, which is enough of a blank canvas to allow one to project onto it their own feelings of forlornness. (BS) The House Bunny. See Also Opening This Week. I.O.U.S.A. See Latest Reviews. In Search of a Midnight Kiss. See Latest Reviews. Journey to the Center of the Earth. A scientist (Brendan Fraser), his orphaned nephew (Josh Hutcherson), and a tough-as-icebergs Icelandic mountain guide (Anita Briem) plummet to, well, check the title. Director Eric Brevig knows he's not really shooting a Jules Verne mind-blower (though we do walk out having learned a sentence each about muscovite and magnesium); this is pure commercial blockbuster, and it's a fine specimen. Every three minutes, Brevig and the quartet of credited writers ratchets the stakes against the trio ever surfacing from the earth's core: there are dinosaurs, carnivorous plants, and carnivorous fish, not to mention an excruciating sequence with floating magnetic rocks. Every two, he reminds us that we're witnessing a 3-D spectacular with visual delights that range from a caress from a field of blowing

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dandelions to a slap in the face from a yo-yo. (AN) The Longshots. See Latest Reviews. Mamma Mia! In this film version of the hugely successful Broadway production, a thin story is used as an excuse to reprise 20 or so tunes by ABBA. The plot bears some similarity to both the 1968 Buona Sera, Mrs. Campbell and this year's Definitely, Maybe: Sophie (Amanda Seyfried), raised by single mom Donna (Meryl Streep) on a Greek island and about to get married, has invited three of Mom's ex-boyfriends (Pierce Brosnan, Stellan Skarsgård, Colin Firth), in hopes of determining which is her father. Sadly, the execution here doesn't do justice to even ABBA's bright, shallow work. This is allegedly a musical comedy, but the first thing one notices is how flat the comedy is. Playwright/screenwriter Catherine Johnson gets points for avoiding all the creaky gags that usually show up in these contrived stories. Unfortunately, she has not replaced them with fresh gags. You can count the genuine laughs here on one hand. And, while the tunes themselves may be tried and true, musicals traditionally rely rather heavily on things like singing and dancing; but what stage director Phyllida Lloyd throws onto the screen could better be described as "singing" and "dancing." The filmmakers seem to think they can get by on sheer high spirits, but even the highest spirits can't compensate for Mamma Mia!'s deficiencies. (AK) Man on Wire. James Marsh directed this thrilling documentary about young French wire-walker Philippe Petit, who, in 1974, snuck into the World Trade Center, still under construction, strung a wire between the towers, and not only walked, but also danced, hopped, lay down, and even playfully taunted arriving police – all at a mere 1350 feet above the hard streets and sidewalks of Manhattan. He combines stills, Petit's home movie footage from the time, and judicious reenactments to accompany a chronological narration from Petit and a half dozen of his co-conspirators. While no actual heist was pulled off, Man on Wire is exactly like a heist film, detailing the planning, recruitment, surveillance, and execution of the caper...complete with internal tensions, setbacks, and mistakes, some of which ironically prove beneficial. Beautifully put together, it is every bit as suspenseful as even the best Hollywood heist films, which is even more remarkable when you consider that we know, from the first frame, that Petit will survive. (AK) Mirrors. A family is terrorized by a supernatural force that can enter their home through the mirrors. Alexandre Aja (High Tension, the 2006 remake of The Hills Have Eyes) directed this retread of Kim Sung-ho's 2003 Korean thriller, Into the Mirror. Both sound like swipes from Douglas Heyes's memorable Thriller episode, The Hungry Glass. Kiefer Sutherland and Amy Smart star. (AK) The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor. After a plodding ten-minute pre-title sequence, the intrepid archaeologist (Brendan Fraser) from the 1999 and 2001 hit Mummy movies, his wife (Maria Bello, replacing Rachel Weisz), her brother (John Hannah), and the couple’s son (Alex Ford) join forces with a threethoudand-year-old sorceress (Michelle Yeoh) to thwart a mummy-esque Chinese emperor (Jet Li), who has reawakened with plans for world domination. The 1999 film survived largely on the comedy and the romantic interaction, neither of which is present here. The script lifts from sources that were themselves tired liftings from other sources. The funniest lines don't appear to have been intended to be funny, the action sequences are flat and unexciting, and the behavior of the CGI Yetis briefly slides into Airplane!-level reality. In general, the CGI makes you long for the days of Ray Harryhausen, a comparison that becomes unavoidable when director Rob Cohen (replacing Stephen Sommers) dredges up an army of skeletons. (AK) Pineapple Express. Process server Dale (Seth Rogen) buys some rare weed dubbed Pineapple Express from stoner Saul (James Franco, actually, truly, funny). When Dale witnesses a murder by drug lord Ted (Gary Cole) and accidentally leaves a Pineapple Expressloaded joint at the crime scene, Ted traces it back to Saul; and, before long, our heroes are running for their lives. In a career turn that probably left skid marks, indie auteur David Gordon Green (George Washington) tackles a high-concept, summer comedy – the latest Bro-Epic from Judd Apatow's overworked comedy factory – but fails to goose up an Apatow formula that's grown repetitive and stale. Here, the Apatovian schlub-hero has nothing substantive – like the onset of adult responsibilities that Rogen experienced in Knocked Up – to hang the antics onto. So the sweetness, which provided the lasting flavor in Knocked Up and The 40 Year Old Virgin, feels artificial, leaving us with a lazy, occasionally funny mess. But don't be disappointed: if you wait about 20 minutes, Apatow will release another comedy that might be better. (MK) The Rocker. See Also Opening This Week. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2. A sequel to 2005's modest, well-calibrated

LACITYBEAT 40 AUGUST 21-27, 2008

'tween-chick-lit hit, this picture of genial uplift reunites Alexis Bledel, America Ferrera, Amber Tamblyn, and Blake Lively as the friends who discover and share a pair of jeans that mysteriously, and perfectly, fits each of them. Having graduated from high school and branched out on their own, they find themselves caught up with flames both new and familiar, with new problems testing their commitment to keeping in touch. Condensing the narratives of three books into a single summer makes for some awkwardness, specifically in the case of Lively's storyline, which involves both an archaeological dig in Turkey and a reconnection with her estranged grandmother (Blythe Danner). Other bits seem contrived, no matter their fidelity to the source material, but what helps all this go down like a perfectly blended fruitshake are the lived-in, naturalistic performances of leads and supporting players alike, all capably managed by director Sanaa Hamri (Something New). (BS) Sixty Six. In 1966 England, 12-year old Bernie Rubens (Gregg Sulkin) is convinced that, unless his bar mitzvah is bigger than the one aggro older brother Alvie (Ben Newton) had, he'll forever be just as big a loser as dear old dad (Eddie Marsan), a grocer who, despite being a putz, has a knockout wife (Helena Bonham Carter). And so this nice, shy Jewish boy takes up black magic against the 1966 England World Cup team to ensure they don't dare make it to the finals nervily scheduled for his big day. Paul Weiland's whimsical, eye-poppingly bright comedy is shot through with cringe-inducing misery. Watching poor Bernie's hopes (and his family's fortunes) get unrelentingly crushed after a supermarket opens down the block – naturally, the boy sees bankruptcy primarily as a threat to renting a fancy hotel for the affair – you might accuse writers Bridget O'Connor and Peter Straughan of sadism, except that it all happened, more or less, to director Weiland: Super-8 footage over the closing credits shows the pubescent Weiland sulking through his brother's class act bar mitzvah. (AN) Space Chimps. After an unmanned space probe gets sucked into a wormhole and lands on a faraway planet, NASA nabs carefree circus performer Ham III (voiced by Andy Samberg), the grandson of the first chimpanzee astronaut, and pairs him with two other trained, in-house chimps to blast into space and gauge the viability of life. When they land on said planet, the chimps encounter alien bully Zartog (voiced by Jeff Daniels), who has appropriated the powers of the crashed space rover to enslave his peers. There's nothing either offensive or lastingly memorable about this loose-limbed animated flick that serves up goofy, colorful aliens and talking animals doing outrageous things. Co-written and helmed by debut director Kirk De Micco, it's as affable and free from thought as its protagonist – a throwback to the animation of two decades ago, when storytelling lapses could be colorfully papered over and excused as merely part of medium. In the Pixar age, of course, that doesn't really fly. Consequently, one tunes out on Space Chimps long before it's run its course, even though it does have the virtue of brevity. (BS) Star Wars: The Clone Wars. Animated Jedis and Siths do battle in the period between Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith. Yawn. Dave Filoni directed this animated feature; Matt Lanter, Tom Kane, and James Arnold Taylor are among the voice artists. (AK) Stealing America: Vote by Vote. Peter Coyote narrates this look at various methods of cheating employed – almost entirely by Republicans – in the elections of the last decade or two: fraudulent scrubbing of legitimate voters from the rolls, misallocation of voting machines to discourage African-Americans, and jamming Get Out the Vote phone lines. Those examples are a matter of record and have been covered in 2002's Unprecedented and other docs. But director Dorothy Fadiman takes a broader approach, trying to build a case that electronic voting machines have been hacked and votes "flipped." I find it believable, but Fadiman's argument relies too heavily on the reliability of exit polls. She speaks to muckraker Greg Palast, pollster John Zogby, and many disaffected election officials, as well as including clips from The Daily Show and The Colbert Report. But, as the film progresses, it becomes clearer and clearer that this is not so much a documentary in the usual sense as a recruiting tool. We never hear anything from the other side; and the film ends with a fulsome patriotic call to action, accompanied by the kind of rousing music only a Republican could love. The music throughout is hamfisted and irritating, ranging from Snidely Whiplash sinister to Bob Dornan bombastic. (AK) Step Brothers. When lusty middle-agers Robert (Richard Jenkins) and Nancy (Mary Steenburgen) decide to marry, each brings along a fortyish live-at-home son with an extreme case of arrested development. Robert's son Dale (John C. Reilly) talks dirty, fancies himself a drummer, and collects classic porn. Nancy's son Brennan (Will Ferrell) talks dirty, fancies himself a singer, and appreciates porn – classic or otherwise. Each

also resents the other, firmly convinced that their parents' marriage has destroyed what was a really good thing. The ensuing rivalry and subsequent friendship – which is supposed to be funny only because it features grown men acting like children – will probably go over big with grown men who act like children, while boring the daylights out of most anyone else. Written by Ferrell and director Adam McKay from a story the two devised with Reilly, this is a very disappointing reunion for the Talladega Nights team, essentially a threadbare sketch idea, stretched so far past the breaking point that the last half of the film feels like a giant, awkward scramble to try and formulate some kind of satisfactory conclusion. (WM) Tell No One. Eight years ago, the police suspected pediatrician Alexandre Beck (Francois Cluzet) of murdering his beloved wife Margot (Marie-Josee Croze). After a new discovery reopens the case, Alex receives an anonymous email, including recent surveillance camera footage of a woman who appears to be Margot. As he tries to unravel this mystery, another involved party turns up dead from a fatal bullet from Alex's gun, and our hero is soon on the run, trying desperately to prove his innocence. This top-drawer thriller from young French actor/writer/director Guillaume Canet (who received the Best Director Award for the film in the French equivalent of the Oscars) shows the influence of Hitchcock...or, at least, Hitchcock by way of Claude Chabrol. If there's a problem, it's that the plot becomes so complicated that, three days after viewing it, I'm already confused about which murder eight years ago was pinned on a random serial killer...or exactly who hired whom for some of the mayhem. I think it all ends up making sense, but I wouldn't swear to it. The entire cast is good, but it's Cluzet who's on screen nearly nonstop, and he carries the whole affair perfectly. (AK) Ten Nights of Dreams. See Also Opening This Week. Transsiberian. On their way back from a church trip to China, devout naif Roy (Woody Harrelson) and his wife, former bad girl Jessie (Emily Mortimer), board the Transsiberian Express for the six-day journey to Moscow. Roy immediately strikes up a friendship with a younger couple, Carlos (Eduardo Noriega) and Abbie (Kate Mara), but Jessie instantly senses that Carlos is trying to get into her pants and is probably a drug smuggler, to boot. When the situation explodes, Jessie finds herself constructing a rickety structure of lies, which is sure to tumble down when Roy makes a new friend – scary police detective Ilya (Ben Kingsley). The latest from Brad Anderson (Session 9, The Machinist) is an absolute nailbiter, one of the most plausible and best constructed thrillers in years. The only frustration is that the plot depends on the very perceptive Jessie making a series of stupid choices; most can be explained by her frazzled emotional state, but some are just too egregious, as when she spins new lies that are absolutely certain to exposed. Still, by the end, Jessie and Roy learn a lot of unpleasant truths about themselves – and so do we. (AK) Tropic Thunder. See Film feature. Vicky Cristina Barcelona. Two young women (Rebecca Hall, Scarlett Johansson) travel to Spain, where they are charmed by an artist (Javier Bardem), whose romantic history includes a crazy wife (Penelope Cruz), who isn’t really out of the picture. This gentle comedy/romance from Woody Allen is heavily influenced by Truffaut’s Jules et Jim, particularly in its nonchalant use of an omniscient narrator to structure the events. The voiceover gives Vicky Cristina Barcelona the feeling of a fairy tale; while it might take place in a fairy tale world, the story is driven by sometimes unpleasant complexities. (Not that fairy tales are always pleasant or simple.) Vicky and Cristina are obvious stand-ins for warring impulses within most of us; and Allen genially, gently suggests how close opposites can be. (AK) WALL*E. Five years after directing Finding Nemo to historic success, Pixar co-founder Andrew Stanton has managed to set an extraordinary new bar, not just for animated movies, but for the film industry at large. The astonishingly simple yet profoundly moving tale centers on a lonely maintenance robot, who has spent more than seven centuries cleaning, sorting, organizing, and collecting earth's junk, leftovers from before mankind abandoned the increasingly uninhabitable planet. But the appearance of a new probe – and a fetching female robot named Eve – set WALL*E's circuits aflutter, putting into motion an adventure that will determine the very future of mankind ... and the earth. All but certain to become the breakaway hit of the summer, WALL*E is a cautionary fable, an old-fashioned romance, a paean to the power of the movies, a poem to the magic of dreams, and an edge-of-your-seat adventure film, this is the kind of movie Hollywood was supposed to have long since forgotten how to make. We can thank our lucky stars that Stanton and Pixar haven't. (WM) What We Do Is Secret. See Latest Reviews.

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Rick Najera

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DE G REE

t is opening day of Latinologues Tu, and I am in the audience at the Hayworth Theatre/La Fonda Cultural Center watching a final run-through. Rick Najera – playwright, VP at LATV, occasional braggart, and Olympic Gold namedropper – is giving final notes to his young cast. He does a little patter, a little soft shoe, before the story of Alejandro, el Macho, begins. Played by Jesse Garcia, Alejandro wonders if the beautiful blonde he’s about to take home is one of those food-service groupies. Once that immortal question has been answered, he has a very long orgasm, with a little pantomimed bean-diddling and a pink in the stink. But she doesn’t love him, because he’s ... just a busboy. At some point, Najera calls Puerto Ricans “legal Mexicans.” And then there’s a good line in a monologue by a let’s all love each other and get intermarried white guy about how in his native Northeast, they have clambakes and witch burnings. “We love to cook,” he says, “and entertain.” –Rebecca Schoenkopf

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L.A. CityBeat: So, uh ... Rick Najera: So, do you know anything about me? No, not really. Uh, you were on Broadway? Yes. With Latinologues. And this one is? It’s Latinologues Tu, like “You.” “You” are the most important person, like Time Magazine’s person of the year last year. Some of the monologues I use from old shows, like the Border Patrol guy, it makes sense. People love it. Say, by the year 2040 or whatever, Anglos will actually be the minority. We’re attracted to opposites, like Alejandro dating the blonde. Well, “dating.” [Story about an adorable caterwaiter at the Richard Nixon Library, a Che temporary tattoo, and how he called every hour on the hour for 12 days, asking if he could come over and go swimming, excised for you, the busy reader.] It’s a bigger thought than that. I worked as a busboy years ago, and one of the others took home a beautiful blonde, hit it all night long. He thought it was romance, she was like, “Okay, thanks.” There’s such a difference in status, it wasn’t gonna work out. Yeah, but that’s not really fair! Maybe it wasn’t gonna work out because he called her once an hour for 12 days! Well, your kid is thinking he’s got this beautiful huera – What’s a huera? A woman. She’s got a pool, this romance is gonna happen. Jesse plays this part, and he’s a good-looking guy, women adore him. But what I’m writing about is

the attraction of opposites. Conquer or be conquered. It’s a hot monologue. It really is! I have never seen a male orgasm portrayed that way, like Meg Ryan’s in Harry Met Sally was just ... quaint. It was great. And then you got the really sweet one, the white guy who really just believes in love. I thought it was too pussy. Yeah, Rafael [Agustin]’s a sweetheart. I gotta slap him around a little, toughen him up. Then you’ve got me doing the Daddy Diaries. It’s not all maudlin and sappy, is it? Like, are you turning into Steve Martin? No. No no no. After my wife and I got together, my world became so radically different. And with kids, you just adapt. At 10 this morning, I was at a soccer game! Who’s the guy with the crazy mom who tried to kill his dad, had a show, Stacy Keach was the coke dad? Oh, Christopher Titus. So he does all this hysterical, super-dark shit, and then he ends his act with this total “children are the future” world peace bit ... . Nah, I see stuff my kids do, and go, ‘Wow, kids are really bastards.’ They’re plotting like Caligula in Rome! I saw my boy tackle a little girl in soccer practice to get the ball. We get a lot of people who get upset: ‘I wanna see Latino characters empowered, blah blah blah.’ And instead, we’ve got a blonde who takes Alejandro and puts him in a headlock: ‘EAT IT.’ And he doesn’t want to. Shocking. No, we very much want to please. We are lovers. It’s true, we speak a romance language, male and female, gendered. We understand about men and women. Oooh, let me ask you about that! I’m dating someone who refers to himself as a “male.” Like, “I am a male!” And everytime, I go, “No, baby, you’re a man!” I don’t think of myself as female; I think of myself as a woman. It makes a difference, right? Look, these girls who work in our show will tell you they want a man who’ll take you. They don’t want to teach – unless they’re high school teachers or something, who are into that. One of our characters is a drug lord. He stays up all night, watching CNN, fun guy. He’s coked out of his mind, got a beautiful telenovela star girlfriend who’s coked out of her mind, bodyguard coked out of his. He’s the most together guy in the whole play. Because he knows what he’s doing. You have these characters who see themselves not as victims of their lives, but their lives and circumstances make them who they are. ‘Oh, show us the pain of the barrio.’ That’s not what I do. We’re here at La Fonda. It’s a party. We go have food and mariachis and tequila next door. You can bring drinks in; the restaurant’s license covers it. We’re not at the Mark Taper Forum. It’s a party!✶

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STAGE Lost in Yonkers. Nan Tepper is impressively stonefaced as Grandma Kurnitz, the self-appointed dean of the school of hard knocks (and soda fountain proprietor) in Neil Simon’s 1942-set play. Maria Spassoff does a lavish turn as the immigrant Grandma’s opposite, her slightly crazy 35-year-old daughter Bella, whose emotions leap instantly out of her skin and her voice. The pair is temporarily hosting the teenaged grandsons Jay (Zav Hershfield) and Arty (I saw understudy Robbie Harrison) while the boys’ father (and Bella’s brother, played by Scott Facher) is working in the South. Also contributing their voices to the family turmoil are Eddie’s small-time gangster brother (Lary Ohlson) and nervous sister Gert (Amy Tolsky). Directed by Howard Teichman, it’s an engaging portrait of a family’s different approaches to surviving hard times. Theatre 40, Beverly Hills. (310) 364-0535. theatre40.org. Closes August 28.

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I KNEW THEM, HORATIO

FRACTURED FABLES

Our critic is so over the Unknown Theater BY DON SHIRLEY n a promotional card for the Unknown Theater’s Fables du Theatre, a quote from L.A. CityBeat (translation: yours truly) calls the Unknown “the coolest theater in L.A.” What do critics know? Or so I grumbled as I sweltered at the Fables premiere last Friday. Not only was the actual temperature in the theater hardly “cool,” but the Unknown programming no longer seems nearly as cool, culturally, as it did just 18 months ago. Maybe it’s because the Unknown’s first 18 months were so creative and so brilliantly executed that they were an impossibly hard act to follow. The theater opened with an intriguing revival of an obscure American play, Johnson Over Jordan, in October 2005. I missed the second major theatrical production, Scenes From an Execution, but each of the next five that I saw – The Hothouse, Everyman for Himself, The Playground, Don’t Look Now and The Serpent – offered something fresh and exciting. (The Unknown also offers shorter runs of dance programs, most of which I haven’t seen.) Since that streak ended with last year’s magical Serpent, I haven’t been able to enthusiastically recommend anything at the Unknown. Caligula, Walking Into Traffic, Attempts on Her Life (a co-production with the previous “coolest theater,” the Evidence Room), Naked Yoga, Accidental Death of an Anarchist, Kingdom Come – all of them were significantly flawed. At first, when Caligula and Walking Into Traffic disappointed, I repeated the mantra that every company is entitled to failures now and then – art would atrophy without the freedom to take risks that sometimes don’t work out. But the new Fables du Theatre is so enervatingly slapdash that I’m now wondering if the Unknown has more serious problems. Fables is supposedly a co-production with “Immanence Theatre Artists” (or, as it’s spelled on the program but not in the press release, “immanEnce”). According to the press release, Immanence is “known for the adventuresome explorations of architecture, satires of social construction and guerrilla theatre tactics,” concentrating on site-specific work.

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Although I see about 300 shows a year in L.A., to me this Immanence group was, well, an unknown theater. So I asked a few questions and learned that it’s a put-on. Cowriter Brenda Varda told me that she created “Immanence” for this production. She even created a website for it – and a fake-news article on that website, about a previous Immanence street-theater production that culminated in an arrest. The bogus website is actually more entertaining – and claims less of your time – than Fables du Theatre, which is purported to be an adaptation of three French tales by Varda and “Immanence artistic director” Marva Lewis. Co-directing Fables are Unknown artistic director/designer Chris Covics and Lewis. The fables themselves feel like half-baked drama school exercises without much point or polish. They’re surrounded by a thick layer of meta-theatrical cliches – we glimpse backstage chaos before the first fable begins, and a planted heckler in the audience questions Lewis between fables and later joins the action. I left the theater unsure of whether Fables was a satire of bad avantgarde theater or merely an example of it. I’m still rolling that distinction around in my brain. Varda e-mailed me that “Immanence” was created “to heighten the role of the artists that dare under extreme circumstances to create no matter what the conditions” – a sentiment that takes the whole production awfully seriously. The problem is that this spoof just isn’t very funny (although a claque of onlookers who stood near the back, laughing aggressively at nearly every gesture or word, apparently disagreed). Nor is it necessary, considering the world’s many more tempting targets. Still, it’s a relief to learn that “Immanence” isn’t for real – it allows more latitude to hope that the Unknown might soon return to the accomplishments of its glory months. ✶

The School for Scandal. Richard Sheridan’s 18th century comedy remains fresh as long as people still like to gossip. Ellen Geer’s staging features skilled turns from Franc Ross as Sir Peter and Willow Geer as his trophy wife. Susan Angelo sneers well as Lady Sneerwell, and Mark Lewis and Jeff Wiesen are excellent as the nephews of the wealthy Oliver Surface (Tim Halligan), who has just returned from India but continues to wear a turban in Shon LeBlanc’s lavish costume design. Snake, normally a male role, is now Widow Snake (Melora Marshall). A few extra verses have been added in between scenes. Still, this kind of comedy isn’t the best fit for a rustic alfresco setting after dark, or for the unadorned architecture of the Theatricum set. Theatricum Botanicum, Topanga. (310) 455-3723. theatricum.com. Closes Sept. 27.

Mrs. Warren’s Profession. George Bernard Shaw’s 1893 play, about a young woman (Joanna Strapp) who learns that her expensive education has been paid for by her mother’s (Gillian Doyle) prostitution business, is still breathtakingly uncompromising – and compact, by Shaw’s later standards. The stage housing August Viverito’s rigorously clear-headed version for the Production Company feels somewhat cramped, but the small venue’s ringside seats are a good vantage point for this bout between the generations. Chandler Studio Theatre, Valley Village. (800) 836-3006. theprodco.com. Closes August 24.

Some Kind of Love Story. Arthur Miller’s 1982 one-act, set in 1962, depicts an aging and schizoid but still high-class prostitute (Beege Barkette) and a seen-it-all, unhappily married detective (Jack Kehler), former lovers, as they repeatedly attract each other and then part ways over the details of a five-yearold murder case that apparently sent an innocent man to prison. The dialogue is overstuffed, but the structure is underdeveloped. Maybe the play is an esoteric meditation on the playwright’s relationship with Marilyn Monroe? The point is a bit foggy, but director Michael Arabian and the actors and designers concoct a nicely atmospheric production – employing, of course, some fog. Hayworth Theatre upstairs, near MacArthur Park. (323) 960-4442. thehayworth.com. Closes August 31.

Pen. Set in late 1969, David Marshall Grant’s drama examines a teenager (Dennis Bendersky) who is the object of a battle between his divorced parents. The mother (Jill Remez) is a churlish MS patient in a wheelchair who wants the kid to go to a nearby college, but the father (Robert Mackenzie) presses the boy to cross the country with him and his new trophy wife for college in L.A. The play’s jagged but realistic texture is pierced at the end of the first act by what might be called magical realism, but the extra suspension of disbelief is worth it, heightening what might be a mundane story in less imaginative hands. Jeff G. Rack’s staging is both stinging and sobering. Theatre 40, Beverly Hills. (310) 364-0535. theatre40.org. Closes August 31.

Wicked. Teal Wicks and Erin Mackey now play Elphaba and Glinda, respectively, in the long-running musical steamroller about the formative years of Oz’s Wicked Witch and Glinda. They’re both fine, but the roles are so fixed at this late date that it’s difficult to imagine any actresses making themselves particularly distinctive in them. Still, the show deserves repeated viewings, with different details noticeable each time out. Powered by Joe Mantello’s propulsive staging, Stephen Schwartz’s score and Winnie Holzman’s script (from Gregory Maguire’s novel) are simultaneously tongue-in-cheek and hearton-sleeve. Pantages Theatre, Hollywood. (213) 3653500. BroadwayLA.org. Closes Jan. 11.

Fables du Theatre, Unknown Theater, Hollywood. (323) 466-7781. unknowntheater.com. For more reviews, go to lacitybeat.com, click on LA&E and Stage.

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TOM VERLAINE

UPCOMING IN-STORES at AMOEBA! All shows are FREE and ALL AGES! For full calendar of events visit: AMOEBA.COM

ARABIAN PRINCE

Guest Resonance DJ set! His biography closely parallels the progression of Southern Californian hip-hop — from his transition from an electro DJ into one of he West Coast’s first hip-hop stars.... and from electro-rap to the gangsta-rap music that transformed the world. Innovative Life, a collection of his groundbreaking electro-rap work recorded between 1984 and 1989, comes out now on Stones Throw.

LYKKE LI

Swedish chanteuse, Lykke Li celebrates the release of her debut US release Youth Novels (out now). “Imagine The Neptunes remixing ‘Joe Le Taxi’ as performed by Peter Bjorn & John and you’re about a tenth of the way to what Lykke Li’s come up with.” — NME Playing live at The Hotel Cafe August 25th.

MATTHEW SWEET

Matthew Sweet celebrates the release of his new album Sunshine Lies (out August 26th on Shout! Factory) with a live performance and signing at Amoeba! Playing live at The Echo, August 28th.

RANI D.

WORLD WIDE UNDERGROUND Guest DJ Rani D. (Soul In the Park) is continuously searching for the sound that will raise our collective frequency to a higher vibration. Catch him at Footsie’s every 2nd & 4th Wed., and at Grand Star Jazz Club every 3rd Sat.

CHARITY AUCTION

The first Saturday of every month, Amoeba has a good time and raises money for great causes with host Brently Heilbron!

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THANK GOD AND THEN WEXLER BY CHRIS MORRIS I was not tight with Jerry Wexler, who died last Friday in Florida at the age of 91, but I can offer a recollection. Some years back, I interviewed Wexler for an assignment for Billboard – the very rag at which Wexler, in 1949, coined the term “rhythm & blues” to replace the dreaded handle “race records” on the trade mag’s charts. The great producer and label executive decided to quiz the new kid (who was fortysomething at the time). At the top of the chat, Wexler somehow steered the conversation to Hank Williams’s recording of “Lost Highway.” He said, in his broad New York accent, “The guy who wrote the song, blind singer from Texas ... .” As he paused and waited for my reply, I riffled hurriedly through my mental data bank. ”Uh ... Leon Payne,” I replied, in a small panic. “Yeah, right!” The interview was then able to proceed very pleasantly and without incident. Wexler was, by many accounts, a difficult cat who liked to test people in precisely the manner recorded above. He was also arrogant, quick to anger, combative. His outstanding 1993 autobiography Rhythm & the Blues, written with David Ritz, offers tremendous, quite candid insight into his outsized, often abrasive personality. I think Wexler liked to shove people around. Maybe that’s why his results were so spectacular – he knew how to get the most out of the knottiest personalities, and he knew how to hip-check them. Ray Charles was essentially a very talented Charles Brown imitator until Wexler wrung the deep soul out of him at Atlantic in the ’50s. The following decade, he attained similar results with Aretha Franklin, who had languished without distinction for several years at Columbia before Wexler sat her ass down at the piano in Muscle Shoals, Alabama, and dragged “I Never Loved a Man (The Way I Love You)” out of her. Last year, while working on some liner notes, I spent a couple months with Wexler’s work with Wilson Pickett, which will be compiled into a boxed set by Rhino Handmade sometime this millennium. Wexler pulled unbelievable stuff out of the Wicked One by schlepping the infernally difficult singer from one studio to the other, ringing up hits out of Memphis, Muscle Shoals, and Philadelphia. Sometimes his charges wouldn’t buy into the program. Dusty Springfield took one look at American Studios in Memphis, said, “No thanks,” and cut her vocals in New York. But the tracks sure cooked. Dusty in Memphis remains one of my favorite albums of all time, thanks to Wexler’s long musical antennae. Wexler didn’t draw this stuff out of people with fat chops. All he was armed with were ears and instinct. (Of course, he was fortunate to have a musical and technical genius like Tom Dowd around to do his engineering.) Making records was an alchemical process for him. The most frequently repeated story about Wexler in the studio is also the most illustrative. He wanted a different rhythm for Pickett’s “In the Midnight Hour,” and he demonstrated the turned-around beat to the Stax Records house band by doing the Jerk. He figured, if the kids could dance to it, it’d be a hit. And it was. He felt it, and people dug it. He liked his shit funky, and, as the music on the charts got less funky, many of the records he made eluded the ears of mainstream listeners. But, God, what records: Donnie Fritts’s Prone to Lean, Doug Sahm and Band, Tony Joe White’s The Train I’m On, Lou Ann Barton’s Old Enough. They just do not mint motherfuckers like this anymore. Jerry Wexler made great records over the course of four decades; at times, it seemed like he was plugged into something cosmic. There was a good reason why Bob Dylan, when he accepted his Grammy for Slow Train Coming, thanked God and then Wexler. Maybe he should have reversed the order.✶ Chris Morris hosts Watusi Rodeo on Indie 103.1 every Sunday at 9 a.m.

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Dreamtime (Collector’s Choice) After the dissolution of Television, Tom Verlaine would churn out a series of solo albums that continued in the sound of their second album Adventure, and next month sees the reissue of the second and third albums from this oeuvre. The second, 1981’s Dreamtime, recalls the aggressive and mechanical churn of Television on tracks such as “There’s a Reason” and “Down on the Farm,” but instead of the immature ruminations on love and loneliness one heard on Marquee Moon, we hear a more mature Verlaine now complacent with his place as the only Romantic left in Manhattan. “Mysteries come and go, but love remains the best kept secret in town,” he exalts in “Always,” and the beautiful grey palette of Dreamtime remains one of the few documents that captures the essence of this secret. –Carman Tse

BIGELF Cheat the Gallows (Custard) The most carnivalesque release from a quite carnivalesque band, the fifth album from L.A.’s Bigelf – the first to be released on Custard Records, owned by Non Blonde Linda Perry, the band’s current fairy godmother – swaggers woozily through kaleidoscopic soundscapes like the soundtrack to Something Wicked This Way Comes. But that in itself isn’t all that new for ringleader Damon Fox, whose love for both John Lennon and Tony Iommi has already clearly revealed itself on past albums. What’s original this time is a renewed confidence in doffing his top hat at other, freakier production techniques – although almost every trick in his book dates from the ’70s, and the tributes/ripoffs to 10cc, Queen, and loads of other Brit art rockers fly fast and furious. But Cheat the Gallows is definitely a kicky listen. Fans of XTC’s side project Dukes of Stratosphear will have plenty of fun here. –Joshua Sindell

VARIOUS Ed Rec Volume 3 (Ed Banger) One of the main instigators of the recent mass hysteria for all things French and electronic, Ed Banger Records releases its third compilation none too soon for growing legions of salivating Francophile-hipsters. As this scene approaches saturation point in L.A., Vol. 3 is hard put to avoid out-and-out redundancy. The hallmark Ed Banger sound, a lacerating blend of punk rock/screamcore, hard techno, and French electro, is both stimulating and numbing (much like a cheap vibrator), and carves a sharp downward trajectory into break-beat nihilism (which is like, soooo 2006). Pedro Winter, head of the label, unpacks his usual cast of dance-rock misfits, while also treading into a hotbed of French hip-hop and nu-disco. Justice gives us another brilliant glimpse of aural apocalypse in the string-andsynth driven “Stress.” The electro Lolita, Uffie, disappoints with “Robot Oeuf,” a monotonous electro/Miami Bass concoction with trite “I’m a bad-ass bitch-in-the-club”-type lyrics (the sort of thing that Lady Tigre and Peaches clearly have on lock-down). DJ Mehdi pays homage to Sal soul in “Pocket Piano,” a soothing balm for the eardrums after the relentless, searing guitars of Sebastian’s “Dog.” Busy P. (Pedro’s alias) slices us off a piece of hip-hop paradise in “To Protect and Entertain,” gleefully namedropping L.A. hotspots and lampooning rave culture. A tense, mixed bag of hits and misses, Ed Rec Vol. 3 illustrates a record label (and pop-culture vanguard) in limbo, caught between replicating a massively successful formula, and cautiously experimenting with la nouvelle vague. –Ramie Becker

HARRY SHEARER Songs of the Bushmen (Courgette) The last eight years are enough to make one doubt the power of satire. George Dubya Bush, 43rd President of these United States, will be remembered as perhaps the worst chief executive ever, standing ’neath the shoesoles of Warren Gee Harding and Ulysses Ess Grant on the dunghill of History. He has been ridiculed, scorned and reviled even by actual halfwits as an extra-stupid aberration and blot, so every satirist of any ability has gone after and failed to bag him. Why? Because he, like the red state yahoos who elected him, knows full well all the rest of us will do is cuss and make faces, and that’s as far as any protest will go. Satire, in order to have any piquancy, must rely on the suspended-disbelief possibility of raising a mob or it lacks social or cultural impact, becoming mere grousing by losers. It is also likely to suck rather badly as humor, and that brings us to Harry Shearer’s “musical impeachment” of Dubya. Karl Rove hillbilly-stomps through “Turd Blossom Special” and “Who Is Yoo?” does worse damage to Pete Townshend than to the torture lawyer, and the other nine tracks proceed in this sub-Weird Al manner, each a gassy cabaret turn expecting rather too much credit for righteousness. Any giggle is stifled by the sorry fact this kind of gesture comes much too late and too weak to register as much stronger than pique. –Ron Garmon

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N I C K EL & D I M E

CLUBLAND LIL BLACKY “COME AND GET IT” Lil Bl a cky h a s c o m p il e d C o m e a n d G e t It , f e a t u r i n g e x c l u si v e t r a c k s b y s o m e o f L a t i n R a p 's h o t t e st a r t ist i n c l u d i n g L i l S i c k o , Br o w n B o y a n d M r . C r i m i n a l a l o n g with a ll n ew tr a cks by Lil Bl a cky.

HEIL DINOSAUR!

G irl In A C o m a is fro m S a n A nt o ni o , Tex a s. N in a D i a z, wh o w a s 1 2 wh e n t h e b a n d f o r m e d , is o f t e n r e f e rr e d t o a s ''t h e f e m a l e v e rsi o n o f M o rr iss e y'' a n d h a s b e e n c o m p a r e d a r t ists a s d i v e rs e a s B j o r k , P a tsy C l i n e a n d M o rr iss e y h i m s e l f . H e r p o w e r f u l , e x p r e ssi v e v o i c e - m a t u r e b e y o n d i ts y e a rs - is u n f o r g e t t a b l e t o a n y o n e w h o h e a rs h e r si n g . G i r l I n A C o m a h a ve o p e n e d for th e Po gues, th e Sm o kin g Po p es, Fr a n k Bl a ck a n d th e C a t h o l i cs , t h e E p o x i e s , a n d w i l l b e settin g out o n a h e a dlin e tour to su p p o r t t h is t h e i r d e b u t a l b u m .

CUTE LEPERS “CAN’T STAND MODERN MUSIC” O r i g i n a l ly t h e i d e a f o r t h e C u t e L e p e rs w a s t h a t i t w a s t o b e s o m e t h i n g e q u a l ly i n f l u e n c e d b y f i rst w a v e p u n k , m o d -reviv a l, p ower p o p a n d a ret a rd e d revere nce for Jo hnny T h u n d e rs . . . . . o h y e a h , w i t h o c c a si o n a l h i n ts o f d o o - w o p , o l d i e R o c k ' N ' R o l l a n d a l o a d o f f e m a l e b a c k - u p v o c a ls . T h e C u t e L e p e rs a r e r e l e a si n g C a n 't St a n d M o d e r n M u si c , t h e i r f i rst f u l l length a lbum which co m bines the a t t i t u d e o f P u n k R o c k , t h e styl e o f M o d a n d t h e p o l is h e d s o u n d o f P o p .

VARIOUS ARTISTS “CAFÉ DEL MAR - VOL . 15”

in a Gorgon’s voice, before breaking off abruptly to point his cane at me and yell “That’s Ron Garmon of CityBeat writing down filth to print in his newspaper, next to the tits and the sex-worker ads!” I grinned and waved, happy to be at home in Babylon. Sweatbox Interlude: Crush of deadlines and preparing for my annual exit to Black Rock City and Burning Man kept me close to home most of the weekend, but I managed a brief visit to The Smell on Sunday night just the same. There was a long, ragged line of bums at 3rd and Main shoveling up free eats doled out by some charity or other, and one fellow broke into happy Mexican folksong, with others following him in a shirttail chorus. Down Harvard Place and inside the venerable all-ages rumpus room, about 50 young ’uns were sweating damnably, their faces long and serious as any at fusty Zipper Hall a few blocks away. Anon plugged in The Last Slice of Butter, who, after a vicious feedback squeal, ground into a half-hour’s worth of the kind of thrashing sludge as nourished generations of headbang chillun, from Budgie to Galaxie 500 to Bad Wizard. The kids were brought to life slowly, twitching at first, and then bopping wholeheartedly, the hideous heat briefly forgotten in communal ecstasy. When the Portland duo shut down, there was that awkward instance when everyone was supposed to go back to being cool but had temporarily forgotten how. I slipped out the alleyway for home, hopeful they’d work it out for themselves. ✶

C a f é D e l M a r c e l e b r a t e s 1 5 y e a rs o f m u si c , a n d f o r t h is o c c a si o n , t h is triple C D h a s b e e n co m pile d (e a ch C D e n c a p su l a t e s a f i v e y e a r p e r i o d ) co nt a inin g a tot a l of 4 2 so n gs. A ll th e tr a cks a re ori g in a l a n d e x c l u si v e f o r t h is c o m p i l a t i o n , a n d y o u c a n f i n d a r t ists l i k e L u d v i g & St e l a r , D a b , Ru e D u S o l e i l , L a C a i n a a n d m a n y o t h e rs . M ix e d b y J o s e P a d i l l a . I b i z a M u si c .

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S t o r e H o u rs : M o n . - T h u rs . 1 0 a m - 9 p m Fri. & S a t. 1 0 a m- 1 0 p m Sun . 1 1 a m- 7 p m

IBI Z A

I’m old I’m crippled I’m stupid I have a nine-inch penis

GIRL IN A COMA “BOTH BEFORE I’M GONE”

BL A C K H E A RT RE C O R D S

In The King’s Name: Somewhere in the fog of booze, I retain vague memory of having chugged a quart or two at The Redwood Bar back in my days of perpetual soaking. An oblong downtown bar with a performance space against the back wall and a tiny dance floor beyond, the Lounge was a suitably red-lit and comfy (if a tad easterly) staging area last Saturday night for Kim Fowley’s Hollywood Sexual Underground, thrown on this 31st anniversary of the death of Elvis Presley. There’s a very definite sort of seedyelegant Hollywood type, and exemplars were already jostling the regs out of barstool space by the time of my mid-evening arrival. Fowley, for the young and the flat-rockhidden, is the senior Sunset Boulevardier; a total music-biz pro whose third hit record was “Alley Oop,” a novelty joint about a comic-strip caveman that went to No. 1 back when Eisenhower was president. Since then, the tall and saturnine Mr. Fowley – who strikes most observers as a combination of Svengali and Vincent Price – has taken a hand in the careers of Alice Cooper, Kiss, The Runaways and Frank Zappa among many others, lending considerable talents as producer, songwriter, arranger, vocalist, promotion wizard and exploitationist. A wizened hippie named Steven T. sat folkie-asfuck under a spotlight, complaining bitterly about having to do acoustic versions of the hard-rock songs he’d performed in Venus & the Razorblades, a Runaways knockoff that briefly flourished on the Strip at about the time of The King’s demise. I was peering at the fetching array of chickage the founder of this feast hauls with him everywhere when Fowley himself appeared at my elbow. “You’re the guy who doesn’t approve of old men rocking out,” he grinned. I pshawed it as a load of old tosh, averring to the effect I was objectively pro-geezer, cultivated hopes of reaching that blessed state myself any minute hence, and had written an obit of Isaac Hayes as would wring tears from a chunk of Strontium-90. He peered down at me with a grin, looked about at the tender young thangs assembled and intoned, “You know, a lady of mine was saying just the other night how she’d rather be an old man’s darling than a young man’s fool.” There’s a reason women are praised as the sensible gender, and this speaks to it. Eventually, Steven T. wound down (Fowley had put him on to fetch “sensitive people”) and Los Duggans took the stage. Commended as “the number one band in Fullerton,” these hoedown hodads unlimbered a Captain Beefheart-style neutron barn dance, with leader David “Skillet” Duggan snarling through high-decibel cowpunk about death, horror, and yer woman leaving yer sorry ol’ ass for ’nother mane, interspersed with grand old agitprop like “Which Side Are You On?” One beery patron to my left yelled “These guys are tight!” in shocked happiness. Smutrock queen The Fabulous Miss Wendy sang R.E.M.’s “It’s the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)” in a single-breath rush, and Elvis impersonator The Rev. Lu$t Vegas led us in an invocation of the King’s spirit at midnight. By 1 a.m., Fowley was onstage fronting a free-rock jam session, waving his walking stick and chanting:

BL A C K H E A RT RE C O R D S

BY RON GARMON

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NIGHTBEAT

SHEARWATER I wasn’t there: Shearwater must have been the quietest band to ever play L.A.’s Forum (which they did, last month opening for Coldplay). Originally a side project for Okkervil River’s Jonathan Meiburg, Austin, Texas’s indie-folkies Shearwater is an odd band to find touring the rock-club circuit; live, you half-expect the Heineken orders to drown out the group’s hushed, chilly scenes of winter. But this is a group worth seeking and straining to hear, with its latest album for Matador, Rook, an engaging and introspective masterpiece. –Joshua Sindell Wed. at The Echo, 1822 Sunset Blvd., Echo Park, (213 )413-8200, attheecho.com. With Wye Oak.

THIS WEEK’S HIGHLIGHTS

GBH. Birmingham, England’s hard men of punk return to rattle us Yanks. Key Club, West Hollywood, keyclub.com. GZA (The Genius). The famed Wu-Tang Clanner performs Liquid Swords in its entirety. With Kadeve and Silentarmy. El Rey Theatre, Miracle Mile, theelrey.com. Bob Log III. The bizarre one-man blues band gets those hipsters groovin’. The Echo, Echo Park, attheecho.com. Peter & Gordon, Gerry and the Pacemakers. In a symbolic gesture, ’60s British Invasion popsters attempt to storm the battlements of Santa Monica. Santa Monica Pier, free, twilightdance.org. 7 p.m. The Walkmen. New York-based indie rockers return with new album, You & Me. The Troubadour, West Hollywood, thetroubadour.com. Also Fri. The Watkins Family Hour, Fiona Apple. The weekly cozy musical get-together continues, with Apple making a rare intimate venue appearance. Largo, Los Angeles, largo-la.com.

PHOTO BY ANNIE RAY

Thursday, August 21

Friday, August 22 Anal Cunt, Anal Blast, Meat Shits, Corpse Cum. Waitasec … is this a family newspaper? Knitting Factory, Hollywood, knittingfactory.com. Beachwood Sparks, The Tyde, Winter Flowers, Mia Doi Todd. Alt-rock in a hippie vein. The Echoplex, Echo Park, attheecho.com. Black Eyes and Neckties. Horror-punk group from Washington state. Relax Bar, Hollywood, myspace. com/relaxbar. BoDeans. Twenty-five years of fine roots rock behind them, the BoDeans continue to roll. House of Blues Sunset Strip, West Hollywood, hob.com. Cafe Tacuba, Ima Robot. The popular Mexican alt-rock band returns with local new-wavers Ima Robot. Greek Theatre, Griffith Park, greektheatrela.com. Edwin McCain Trio. Edwin’s “I’ll Be” would make a great campaign slogan for that other McCain. Just sayin’. Key Club. Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers. Petty and co. deliver a rock show like few others, making this a darned fine way to spend a summer’s night. Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre, Laguna Hills, livenation.com. Donna Summer. Looking for some (more) hot stuff, baby, this evenin’? Hollywood Bowl, Hollywood, hollywoodbowl.com. Also Sat. Veruca Salt, TSAR. Veruca’s Louise Post’s songwriting continues to convey burning and yearning, while TSAR has long been a local act with a fine repertoire. Viper Room, West Hollywood, viperroom.com.

Saturday, August 23 The Ditty Bops. NPR darlings Amanda Barrett and Abby DeWald play a poppy mix of swing, Tin Pan Alley jazz and folk. Largo. Michael Einziger’s End.>Vacuum. The guitarist from Incubus composes “a realization in nine movements,” conducted by Suzie Katayama, performed by the Graviton Modern Ensemble, with guest speaker Brian Cox. Royce Hall, UCLA, Westwood, endvacuum.com. The Germs. What they used to do was secret. NOT ANYMORE! With the Mae Shi, and Spider Problem. The Echo. Mandy Moore. The singer-actress sings songs from her latest album, Wild Hope. Hotel Cafe, Hollywood, hotelcafe.com. Poison. 45-year-olds, unskinny bopping? No thanks. Gibson Amphitheatre, Universal City, livenation.com. Sondre Lerche, Sylvie Lewis. Norwegian singer-songwriter Lerche arrives with British folk music performer Lewis. The Troubadour. Also Sun. Sunset Junction Day One. See our main music feature for details.

Sunday, August 24 Faster Pussycat, L.A. Guns, Bang Tango. In case you didn’t feel like showing up for Poison last night … . Key Club. Grand Ol’ Echo. The hoedown begins at 5 p.m. with guests TBA. Hosted by Chris Morris and DJ Cuz’n Roy. The Echo. Peanut Butter Wolf. The acclaimed DJ continues his assault on our local venues. When will his rampaging end? The Echoplex. Radiohead. Some British band from Oxfordshire no one’s ever heard of. With Liars. Hollywood Bowl. Also Mon. Sunset Junction Day Two. See our main music feature for details.

Monday, August 25 Nicole Atkins. New Jersey singer whose album bears a Brill-Building sound. Largo. A.A. Bondy, Bon Iver. Former Verbena frontman Bondy reinvents himself in a folkier strain. Bon Iver’s debut release For Emma, Forever Ago has earned the soulful singer rave reviews. The Troubadour. Also Tues. Vains of Jenna. Glam-rocking a new generation. Whisky a Go-Go, West Hollywood, whiskyagogo.com.

Tuesday, August 26 Delta Spirit. San Diegan alt-rockers with Northern soul influences. Spaceland, Silver Lake, clubspaceland.com. The Donkeys, Golden Animals. Alt-country San Diegans (The Donkeys) meet White Stripes-gonepsychedelic types (Golden Animals). The Echo. Extreme, King’s X. Having survived Bands Reunited, Extreme takes its funk-metal out on the road for another go. With Texan prog-metal vets King’s X, to boot! House of Blues Sunset Strip. Mike Gordon, Marco Benevento. Gordon brings oodles of Phish Phood for his hungry fans, along with experimental music keyboard player Benevento. The Roxy, West Hollywood, theroxyonsunset. com. Reggie and the Full Effect. What started a solo project for former Get Up Kid James Dewees became a hit with fans. Now, Dewees says he’s calling it quits. What gives? With Leathermouth, and Warship. The Avalon, Hollywood, avalonhollywood.com. Ricky Warwick. Irish bruiser from British metal crew the Almighty goes soft and folkie and acoustic tonight, the big jessie. With Will Ridge. Key Club, downstairs showroom.

Wednesday, August 27 George Benson. It won’t be a Weekend in L.A. for Benson, playing on a Wednesday, but the jazz guitarist-vocalist still shines no matter the night. Hollywood Bowl. Janeane Garofalo, Bob Odenkirk. Laugh ’til you don’t with these incisive wits. Largo. Intronaut, Behold … the Arctopus, Mouth of the Architect. Avant-metal madness and terror with rising noise outfits. Knitting Factory. RX Bandits, Portugal the Man. Alaskan prog quartet Portugal the Man teams with Warped Tour types RX Bandits for a very odd menu of music. The Troubadour. Thrash ’n’ Burn Tour. Thrash, hardcore, metalcore … it’s all here. Ten bands, including Darkest Hour, As Blood Runs Black, and Parkway Drive will rip it up. House of Blues Sunset Strip.

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The Lonesome Crowded West The August doldrums seem to me more dangerous than fruitful, with the European model of hiding out in far-flung territories perhaps smarter than Americans working through it sluggishly. But even at this edge of summer, the art world tromps onward. The strange landscape of sun-stroked terrain of the American Southwest gets a thoroughly psychedelic if not distinctly Los Angeles treatment at Desertshore, curated by art critic and local hero Jan Tumlir and opening Aug. 23 at the Luckman Gallery, Cal State L.A. The psychedelia is more Marrakech in the ’70s than San Francisco in the ’60s, covering spacy terrain with a cool touch embodied by the organizing principal of the show, Nico, onetime lead singer for the Velvet Underground, and her flat, melancholic voice. Europeans perhaps travel to exotic locales, while we in Los Angeles just do drugs and pretend we’re there. The sinister summer doldrums subside into the methamphetamine rush of openings, an embarrassment of riches or – like some art fair – an easy way for the

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ambitious to get traumatized by art. Do laundry lists count as critique? Alexandra Grant at Honor Fraser and Matt Keegan at Anna Helwing Sept. 6, Raymond Pettibon at Regen Projects and Stephen Kastenbach at Another Year in LA Sept. 13, Nietzsche vs. Emerson at Cottage Home. To pluck a few out of this cornucopia is the critic’s job, you can not see everything, nor should you perhaps. Julian Hoeber’s upcoming show at Blum and Poe looks damned promising: the bronze self-portrait bust recently featured in “Against the Grain” at LACE and which appears on the gallery announcements plays directly in the sometimes violent B-movie conceptualism of the artist. In one early film, Killing Friends, the artist did just that, and many of his friends died uncomfortably gory mock deaths on film.

8IK MAX YAVNO, MUSCLE BEACH, 1949

Another artist with sometimes violent imagery (though hardly as direct as Hoeber’s), Martin Kersels, is having a duo of exhibitions this September, one at his commercial gallery ACME, the other a well-earned retrospective at the Santa Monica Museum. At the sculptor’s work at his last exhibition in town, a quintet of menacing lamps (one was an empty lion suit lynched with two glowing light bulbs for eyes, and two others were wicker nuclear bombs) hung over a spooky mise-en-scene like a setup for a tragicomedy. I need a jolt of Kersels’s and Hoeber’s dark humor in these sunstroked death throes of the sluggish last days of summer. --Andrew Berardini

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LOOKING AT LOS ANGELES ‘This Side of Paradise’ at the Huntington BY ANDREW BERARDINI t the front gate of Henry E. Huntington Library, the road cuts through huge expanses of grass and then into a graftedon parking lot filled with aging tourists here to see the famous gardens or the Library’s copy of the Gutenberg Bible – or, like me, to see “This Side of Paradise.” The Huntington isn’t easy to navigate, and the first chapter of the exhibition requires four rights and a left and the second is buried deeper in the grounds. A set of images by leftist photographer Allan Sekula makes for a guide through the tightly groomed grass and well-coiffed hedges, his snaps of immigrant gardeners surreally placed alongside actual immigrant gardeners keeping Huntington’s palace green. The landscape of the Huntington Gardens is one of the many layers of L.A. that “This Side of Paradise,” curated by Jennifer Watts and Claudia Bohn-Spector, attempts to unwrap, unravel, uncover. Huntington was one of the original architects of the Southern California image of itself. His compound is one of the aged fictions that make up what we look at when we’re looking at Los Angeles. Heavy on documentary photography, the exhibition begins in the 1860s with a forgettable photo of a downtown plaza by William M. Godfrey when Los Angeles was still pretty much a sleepy Mexican village and only an American possession for 15 years. Before the railroads, the major agriculture push, the oil, the automobile, entertainment (from Hollywood stardom to Valley porn), aerospace, manufacturing, and real estate. The history of Los Angeles is the history of dream peddlers, and thus words like “Paradise” and “Eden” come to be associated with the promise of L.A., always disappointed. The photos on “This Side of Paradise” mirror these changes from the sweeping landscape by Carlton E. Watkins of rolling hills and rural farm houses to the messy conglomeration of signs on Hollywood Boulevard in 1991 by John Humble, pitting the boyishly bland Rick Dees against the cosmetically reinvented would-be actress Angelyne. The exhibition attempts to buck chronological narratives throughout, perhaps one of its many faults (alongside a pretty hideous exhibition design in the newly refurbished galleries), instead trading the march of time for loosely themed clusters under the broader concerns of body and landscape – Garden, Dwell, Move, Work, Play, Clash, and Dreams – which oddly echo the regular three word pitch of “Live. Work. Play” – our modern boosterism for a reinvented downtown, another chapter in selling the dream of Los Angeles to outsiders documented at the Huntington. It’s difficult to talk about “This Side of Paradise” as an art show, because it’s not really, nor is it the reinvented cabinet of curiosities

A

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1, 2 and 3 bedroom apartments and townhomes available BEVERLY

FAIRFAX

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the Grove

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Apartment Homes & Spa directly across from the Grove Short term and Furnished Apartments avaliable. We Cooperate with Real Estate Agents.

MedicalResearch

6220 W EST 3RD S TREET LOS ANGELES, CA 90036

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To Advertise Call 323-938-1001

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L A

For those who are over the age of 60 and who are feeling stressed or depressed, hopeless, sad, loss of interest or pleasure in activities, anxiety, or insomnia. UCLA is conducting a 4-month research study using a study drug and placebo in conjunction with Tai Chi Chih (a set of slow-paced movements) or health education. If you are not currently receiving any psychiatric treatment with effective medications, you may ualify. Medical and psychiatric evaluations and limited physical exams are provided as part of the study. Evaluations and study drug are provided at no charge.

CI T Y B E AT

DOT

CO M

F or more information, call UCLA at

(310) 794-4619

WE’RE ALWAYS ON AUGUST 21-27, 2008 5 5 LACITYBEAT

MedicalResearch

lacitylist.com

To Advertise Call 323-938-1001

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Painful H e m orrhoid? Lotus Clinical Research, Inc. is conducting a research study of an investigational medication for postoperative pain following hemorrhoid removal. If you qualify and participate in the study, one of their trusted board-certified surgeons will remove your hemorrhoid at no cost. Participants must be willing to complete all follow-up procedures. You may be compensated up to $500 for your time and travel. For more information, call: Lotus Clinical Research at 1-877-LOTUSCR (877-568-8727) to see if you qualify. Financial compensation is provided. 877-LOTUSCR (877-568-8727) Email: info@lotuscr.com

Are you suffering from Heartburn? Do you meet the following criteria? • Age 18 to 75 years • History of Acid reflux symptoms (such as acid regurgitation, chest or abdominal pain) for at least 3 months. • Heartburn at least 2 days a week for 1 month. If so, you may be eligible to participate in a Clinical research study. Study examinations, procedures, and investigational medication will be provided to you at no cost. If you or someone you know would like to participate in this study please contact: Dr. Timothy Simmons at 310-674-0144 West Gastroenterology Medical Group 8110 Airport Blvd. (At La Tijera) Los Angeles, CA 90045

LACITYBEAT 5 6 AUGUST 21-27, 2008

M ind, B ody & Sprit

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To Advertise Call 323-938-1001

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Medical Marijuana referral available. th

Nothing over $45 / 8 High Quality Meds

AUGUST 21-27, 2008 5 7 LACITYBEAT

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Be on the B ACK B E A T 3 2 3.9 3 8.1 0 0 1

F R E E

PREGNANCY TESTS Women's, Pediatric, Youth Services and

FREE

Pregnancy Tests. Call 323-644-3888 or walk in. Asian Pacific Health Care Venture, Inc. 1530 Hillhurst Avenue, Suite 200 Los Angeles, CA 90027

www.aphcv.org THERE IS SOMETHING YOU DON’T KNOW ABOUT LIFE... The knowing of which will dramatically change your life.

MONEYLOVEANDHAPPINESS.COM

LOAN OFFER We give out loan at low & high interest rate of 3% for a minimum of 5 yrs. We give out loan in these categories: personal loan, company loan, home loan, investor loan, contact for more inquiries:

thpgray02hotmail.com & thpgray02 @ gmail.com

HOME RENTAL NORTH HOLLYWOOD 3 bdrs and 2 baths Interior all brand new. Large yard with pool. No credit check

Call 866-599-6584 $999 per month Tarot, Psychic and Palm Readings. Karma, Chakra, and Past Life.

3179 West Cahuenga Blvd. LA, CA 90068 Call 818-279-4448

CAREGIVERS SENT TO YOU! MooreCare in-home support for homebound patients and seniors. Keeping your loved one IND E P E ND E NT.

(310) 590-6441 www.moorecarebb.com

CENTRAL PACIFIC CREDIT & FINANCIAL SERVICE

MEET PEOPLE AND NETWORK FOR BUSINESS BRAND NEW

NANCY WILSON PSYCHIC READER TELLS ALL,

1K commissions, fully automated system, no cold calling, no personal ads, all you do is advertise, contact

Jason www.income4vaction.com or email clickmaster2002 @ aol.com

Never miss a another sales call. We’re there when you are not. nights, weekend, holidays, scheduling, customers problems, sales and more, reasonably priced, call us

You will need a plumber & a electrician one day soon, you may find that there is also something else you want done around the house like carpentry. You now have my number, call me and ask. I give free estimates, I have 35 yrs of experience, write my number down in your phone book,

562-212-9162 for the handyman 1K commissions, fully automated system, no cold calling, no personal ads, all you do is advertise, contact Jason www.income4vaction.com or email

866-856-7032

INCOME4VACATION.COM

FORWARD YOUR OFFICE

INCOME4VACATION.COM

213.316.1055 Code 7269, 18+

WWW.WEALTH-MATRIX.COM OR DIAL 323.843.4295.

1-800-527-1542 www.psychicfarren.net

HOMEOWNERS, HOLD ON TO THIS NUMBER!

UNIVERSAL PSYCHIC

Browse/Respond F R E E!

Private Members-Only Social Network is the place to be seen. If your business targets people online in any way, then you will love it here! We are a "Who's Who" Professional Social Network. Go type in:

Farren solves all problems. Specializes in reuniting, reveals lovers true feelings. Remove Negative Energy.

323-327-2492

Need a personal loan, quick sameday, fixed rate, business, auto, mortgage, debt consolidation, bad credit OK. no application fee,

MEET LOCAL SINGLES

FREE PSYCHIC READINGS BY PHONE

clickmaster2002 @ aol.com

HANDS OF EXPERIENCE Certified, Mature & Experience. Authentic Swedish / Esalen Full Body Combined with Deep Tissue & Stretching. Nurturing, Relaxing & Safe.

Mke 818-842-5401

STO P W O ND E RIN G IF THE P E RS O N Y OUR WITH IS RIG HT F O R YO U, KNO W ABO UT YO UR FUTUR E NO W, F R E E R EADIN G F R OM 9AM-11AM,

THE TEEN LINE NEEDS YOU!

Bab Jip Restaurant, conveniently located on La Brea Avenue & 9th Street, creates adventurous Corean Fusion dishes centered around bulgogi (Corean marinated beef). Taste a new spin on mini burgers and tacos. (See ad inside Restaurant Guide). Delivery available with $15 minimum purchase. Parking. MC, V, AE BAB JIP, 850 S. La Brea Ave. #A,

RELAXING THERAPEUTIC MASSAGE & CALMING PEDICURE

NANNY CATCHER

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Sound & Motion activated monitoring system, 5% off enter LAcitybeat, buy or rent, $195,

I C OLLE CT ANTIQ UE S, STAMPS, C OINS, C O STUME JE W ELRY, WATCH E S & O THE R INT E R E STIN G ITEMS,

• Escort Reviews • Erotic Ads • Erotic Forums

CALL 714-388-2163

MASSAGE PARLOR REVIEWS

Relief for tired feet, goddess style! ReEnergizing treatment for men & women, 8 a.m. - 8 p.m., discount w/ad on 1st visit.

(323) 353-9756

818-344-3742, MONTY @ DPL-Surveillance-Equipment.com, www.DPL-Surveillance-Equipment.com

PC TROUBLES??? Factory Certified, Mobile Techs, Reasonable Rates, Complete Service, On Site Home/Office, serving Los Angeles Metro,

800-604-4595

with Female or couple. Race open. No Drugs.

COREAN FUSION IN THE HEART OF THE MIRACLE MILE

PO BOX 82382, LA, CA 90082

1800-TLC-TEEN OR DOWNLOAD APPLICATION AT WWW.TEENLINEONLINE.ORG

323.648.3999 Code 5725, 18+!

1-800-405-7619 ext. 150 http://www.easywork-greatpay.com

New Coupon book save you $1000’s on gas, send a self addressed envelope + $29.00 (money order only) to John Hinton,

INTERNATIONAL COLLECTOR ANTIQUES

STRAIGHT BLACK MALE SEEKS LASTING RELATIONSHIP

HELP WANTED

SAVE $2.00 PER GALLON OF GAS

CALL NANCY WILSON, 909-990-9306

HOT LOCAL MEN

E arn Extra income assembling C D cases from Home. Start Immediately. No Experience Necessary.

Law Offices of Frank Hakim F R E E C O NSULTATIO N: (310) 789-2240

Are you in the 9th-11th grade & want to help other teens. We are seeking teen volunteers to train for our our teen to teen hotline to help callers with any kind of problem. Training begins in October. Applications are due September 22. Call any evening 6-10pm at

Browse/Respond F R E E!

(310) 988-5225

HAVE YOU BEEN FIRED? SEXUALLY HARASSED? DISCRIMINATED AT WORK? UNPAID WAGES & OVERTIME?

• Need a Warrant Recalled? • Want to Smoke Pot on Probation? • All Criminal Defense, from Drugs to Murder.

Harvard Law, Affordable Office: 323-653-1850 (Ok to call from custody, 24-hours services)

Los Angeles, CA 90036. 323 935-3636

ALL POSITIONS AVAILABLE E arn extra income. We are needing an employee in our company for a part time job, please contact:

ss.bright101 @ gmail.com for more details

HELPI NG HANDS Too Busy? need help with cooking, cleaning, shopping, driving, errands, returning phone calls, remembering things, clerical work, filing , baby sitting etc....I'm here to help, I can be your personal assistant, reasonable rates to work with you, call for date and time availability

213-359-7518

#1 LOVE GODDESS White magic, powerful love spells to unite immediately within three hours! Helps with all sexual problems!

323-423-8025

LACITYBEAT 5 8 AUGUST 21-27, 2008

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