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Seattle Weekly, March 14, 2012

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March 14–20, 2012 I voluMe 37 I nuMber 11

seattleweekly.coM I free

How TougH Is IT To Bake a PoTaTo? Page 31 | seaTTle MusIc’s BesT-kePT secreT(s) Page 35

Murder rewind By Rick AndeRson

A Mysterious slAying suggests thAt ted Bundy wAsn’t seAttle’s only seriAl killer in the ’70s


Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14–20, 2012

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inside»   March 14–20, 2012 VOLUME 37 | NUMBER 11 » SEATTLEWEEKLY.COM

»31

»35

»10

up front 7

NEWS

BEST OF THE DAILY WEEKLY

Lewis-McChord’s bad rap and Inslee’s questionable resignation.

10 FEATURE

BY RICK ANDERSON | An Edmonds

woman “never forgot” about the 1976 murder of her half-sister, a crime declared solved but not officially closed. And her persistence has led police to suspect it was really the work of a killer possibly as prolific as the infamous Ted Bundy.

26 FILM

THIS WEEK’S ATTRACTIONS | Will

Ferrell’s Mexican melodrama, Jason Segel’s slacker odyssey, and an Albanian blood feud.

31 FOOD

31 | MANHATTAN DRUGS | Potatoes top this steakhouse’s list of problems. 32 | BOTTOMFEEDER | Barbecue in Boeing Field’s shadow. 32 | FIRST CALL | Reinventing the Julius. 33 | A LITTLE RASKIN | Cumbersome rules burden cheese vendors.

35 MUSIC

35 | AFROCOP | Improvised funk

Unmistakably... One to Two Carat Diamonds set in Platinum. Open seven days a week.

and the bar that nurtures it. 36 | REVERB | Stephin Merritt and

19 THE WEEKLY WIRE The Sounders open their season, PNB debuts three new dances, and Hari Kunzru follows a flying saucer.

22 ARTS

22 | OPENING NIGHTS | A Beckett

classic and a mediocre English musical. 24 | EAR SUPPLY | Timeless grief.

COPYRIGHT © 2012 BY SEATTLE WEEKLY, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. REPRODUCTION IN WHOLE OR IN PART WITHOUT PERMISSION IS PROHIBITED. ISSN 0898 0845 • SEATTLE WEEKLY IS PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY SEATTLE WEEKLY, LLC. SEATTLE WEEKLY® IS A REGISTERED TRADEMARK. • PERIODICALS POSTAGE PAID AT SEATTLE, WA • POSTMASTER: SEND ADDRESS CHANGES TO SEATTLE WEEKLY, 10 08 WESTERN AVE., STE. 30 0, SEATTLE, WA 98104 • FOUNDED 1976. MAIN SWITCHBOARD: 206-623-050 0 CLASSIFIED ADVERTISING: 206-623-6231 RETAIL AND ONLINE ADVERTISING: 206-467-4341

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in back

Duff decide to cooperate; Cumulus’ frontwoman was inspired by clouds. 38 | THE SHORT LIST | The Raincoats, Vetiver, Lady Antebellum, and much more.

other stuff

24 | PERFORMANCE 29 | FILM CALENDAR 33 | FEATURED EATS 41 | SEVEN NIGHTS 47 | TOKE SIGNALS 48 | DATEGIRL

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news»Best of the Daily Weekly

Harry Kotlar

»dispatches from our news blog

Base-less

A

What the Afghan massacre doesn’t tell us about Lewis-McChord.

That was the story in Seattle media and on national TV too. In its report, “Afghan Killings: Troubled History of American Base,” ABC said that Lewis-McChord’s “troubled and bloody history” ranged “from assaults on American authorities in the U.S. to the ‘thrill killing’ of other Afghan civilians,” and cited “some of the most infamous incidents” of the past three years. They included

ex-soldier Benjamin Colton Barnes, 24, who killed a park ranger after fleeing a New Year’s Eve house-party shooting; AWOL Staff Sgt. Nathan Ryan Smith, 29, who raped and tortured two women; and drug-addicted AWOL Private Dakota Wolf, 19, who killed a teenage girl in Kirkland. An Associated Press story, “Afghanistan Suspect’s Base Had 2010 Killing Case,” also cited Coffee Strong’s Gonzalez (who is also personally calling for a congressional investigation of the base). He said he wasn’t surprised the accused Afghanistan village killer was from Lewis-McChord, since that’s where “we’re seeing soldiers committing suicide . . . murder and domestic violence.” That’s true, of course. Lewis-McChord is, after all, now the West Coast’s biggest military base, an armed city of more than 60,000 military and civilian personnel, pivotal in the waging of war in Iraq and Afghanistan. It is where tens of thousands of soldiers, who

» Continued on page 9

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A jumble of stories about Lewis-McChord’s crimes don’t prove it’s a whole lot different from other bases.

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Eric DEvEricks

s if to explain the massacre of villagers in Afghanistan, local and international news media have been saying, again, that Joint Base Lewis-McChord is a “troubled” post, perhaps the worst of all U.S. Army bases. But does that tell us anything about why the world- and possibly war-changing mass murder of 16 civilians was allegedly undertaken by one of JBLM’s demonstrably troubled sergeants? As The Daily Telegraph of London puts it in a story headlined “Afghanistan massacre: soldier was stationed at ‘troubled base’ ”: “Long before the US soldier suspected of slaying 16 Afghan villagers was identified as an Army sergeant from Joint Base LewisMcChord, the installation had earned a reputation as the most troubled outpost in the American military.” Proof of this was that the “Army station . . . has come under scrutiny as the home of several soldiers involved in wartime atrocities in 2010 [the “kill team”] and a base scarred by a record number of suicides last year.” Most important, said the Telegraph, Stars and Stripes had called Lewis-McChord “the most troubled base in the military” in 2010. The London paper also picked up a quote from Jorge Gonzalez, the veteran and activist who runs Coffee Strong, the Lakewood soldiers’ hangout. “This was not a rogue soldier,” Gonzalez declared, calling LewisMcChord “a rogue base, with a severe leadership problem.” “Troubled U.S. base” declared the headline in the Los Angeles Times as well, which led its story with a retelling of the planned 2010 shooting of Salt Lake City citizens by Spec. Brandon Barrett, who was preemptively killed by a Salt Lake cop, continuing: “Since then, the base has become one of the most troubled in the Army. This week, accusations that a Lewis-McChord sergeant in southern Afghanistan shot to death at least 16 civilians were added to the dozens of cases of killings, suicides, assaults, and other crimes linked to soldiers from the base.”

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news» The Daily Weekly » from page 7 rotate in and out of the battle zones, learn to kill or be killed in between trying to survive domestic life on the home front. It’s an age-old story of the guaranteed conflict of war and peace and how some endure the transition better than others. I could write a book about it. And did. [It’s called Home Front: The Government’s War on Soldiers, and you should read it. —Ed.] In part, it traces the battle-related condition called “irritable heart” by afflicted Civil War vets, shell shock in WWII, and post-traumatic stress disorder since Vietnam. Unfortunately, a jumble of stories about Lewis-McChord’s crimes don’t prove it’s a whole lot different from other bases. They fall short in addressing PTSD, which may have been the primary contributor to the massacre. Nor do these stories inform us much about what’s behind failures on the battlefield, by base command, and among mental-health treatment specialists—the wide-ranging basis for Stars and Stripes’ “most-troubled” declaration in 2010. For sure, an anecdotal collection of arguably related tragedies says little about why one of Lewis-McChord’s trainees left his post in the dark of night, walked to a sleeping village, and allegedly began shooting and stabbing women and children to death, when thousands of other Lewis-McChord trainees didn’t. Fortunately, we’re learning more about that now, with word that the accused Stryker sergeant, a 38-year-old trained sniper, suffered a traumatic brain injury from a vehicle accident in Iraq, but was cleared to return to duty. We also know he did three war tours in Iraq, and was cleared for his fourth deployment, in December, to Afghanistan. There are obviously more defining details to come. Maybe one of these days we’ll begin to learn what was troubling him. Rick AndeRson

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Craig Holman, government affairs lobbyist for the congressional watchdog nonprofit Public Citizen, doesn’t believe it’s true, however. While he concedes there has been especially bad gridlock, he says a number of important pieces of legislation are lined up: “the JOBS act, the budget itself, the STOCK Act.” Indeed, he calls the latter, which would ban insider trading by members of Congress, potentially “the most significant ethics achievement of the 112th Congress.” Inslee, moreover, is not just any member of Congress. As a seven-term veteran, he’s one of the Democrats’ leaders. Considering the scant attention paid to the looming vacancy, one might be forgiven for thinking that this is just the way politics is played. But Holman, a 10-year veteran of Capitol Hill, says “it doesn’t happen all that often” that a Congress member will resign to run for another office. Neil Abercrombie of Hawaii and Nathan Deal of Georgia did so in 2010, but both resigned in time for a special election to be called, according to Holman. The Seattle Times suggested that Inslee may have timed his resignation to save the state the cost of a special election. Maybe, but it sure seems as if the best thing he could do for the state would be to fulfill his duties in office. Had he been a Republican, Democrats would surely have slammed him—just as they did when a certain former vice-presidential candidate decided, postelection, that she didn’t feel like being Alaska’s governor any more. Inslee’s move, says Holman, “is every bit as irresponsible as what Sarah Palin did.”

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It might not be a surprise that Jay Inslee felt as though he needed to step down from his congressional seat to focus on his gubernatorial campaign. Inslee has a savvy competitor in Attorney General Rob McKenna (who noted that the departing Chris Gregoire kept her job at the AG’s office while pursuing the governor’s mansion). What is a surprise is that Inslee and fellow Democrats apparently think it’s no big deal to leave his seat vacant for eight months. Washington will be down one Congress member until November by virtue of Inslee’s timing. If he had resigned by March 6, the governor would have called a special election to fill his seat. But instead his announcement came this past weekend. “I asked this question: Where could I do most good for the state of Washington?” Inslee said, explaining his decision. State Democratic Party Chair Dwight Pelz

went even further in rationalizing why Inslee’s months of missed votes won’t matter: “We all know Congress is gridlocked and not much is happening there,” Pelz told The Seattle Times. Really? So little is happening in Congress that members might as well not show up for the better part of a year? That has to be one of the most cynical views of Congress ever expressed. But hey, if that’s true, maybe all of Congress should take eight months off and put the saved salaries into reducing the deficit.

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Murder rewind A mysterious Edmonds slaying suggests that Ted Bundy wasn’t Seattle’s only serial killer in the ’70s. By Rick AndeRson

10

t’s hard to explain why Tere Ryder thought her half-sister’s murder was solved 35 years ago. “The best way to put it is that I was naive,” she says.

Ryder is sitting in the crafts studio of her cozy Edmonds home, next to a weighty cardboard box stuffed with notes, documents, and police records on the slaying of Allison Nakashima of Seattle, who was 15 when she was was killed in April 1976. A runaway teen who split time among her mother’s Ballard residence and suburban foster homes, Nakashima’s naked, decomposed body was found a month later by children playing in a wooded area near Edmonds’ Five Corners intersection. That’s just a few miles from where Ryder now lives. An amateur painter and sculptor, Ryder and her partner Gayle Ketzel, a photographer, moved into the home two years ago. Not long after, they were at a local market waiting for a deli order, standing alongside a uniformed Edmonds police officer. Aware that Ryder had recently been wondering aloud about her halfsister’s homicide and wishing she knew more about the killer, Ketzel asked the cop how they could find out about a long-closed homicide. “He seemed surprised when I piped in with the name Allison Nakashima,” Ryder recalls. “And he said they had just been going through her case boxes at the police station! I was shocked to find out that the case was still open.” When Nakashima was killed, Ryder was 27, married, and pregnant with twins. Not long after the body was found, Edmonds police told her family—as Ryder remembers it—that the case was solved. Shortly before her death, Nakashima had turned to prostitution to support herself. Arrested by a Seattle vice cop at a longtime street hangout on Fourth Avenue near Virginia Street called Steve’s Broiler (replaced by a parking garage in the 1990s), she ratted out the pimp who’d had “instructional” sex with her—he showed her how to give him a blow job, then sent her out in search of a john. The pimp was arrested for rape of a minor, and Nakashima was ready to testify against him. But prior to trial, the case was resolved by deporting the accused to his native Canada. Weeks later, Nakashima’s body was discovered dumped in the Edmonds woods. “Her body hadn’t even been found yet, her murder not even known, and he was

deported, and the case went away,” is how Ryder recalls events. Some of the case information she relied on 35 years ago was being filtered through Ryder and Nakashima’s Ballard mom (the half-sisters have different fathers), who was a drug addict. Details got a bit twisted, and it was an especially tumultuous time for Ryder, who miscarried the twins. “I never forgot about Allison,” says Ryder, now 62, “but the case was closed, I thought, and everyone just moved on.” What Ryder has since learned is that the murder of Allison Nakashima—one of just two unsolved homicides on Edmonds police books—is a shut-and-open case. It is solved, authorities feel, but not officially closed. The killer has been identified—not the pimp, police say, although Ryder isn’t convinced of that. And while police are sure they have their man, it is clear from interviews and voluminous police and court records that he will never be convicted of Nakashima’s murder—or any other slaying, or numerous rapes from here to California that investigators suspect he committed. “He’s the genuine real deal,” says Edmonds police detective Dave Honnen, “a serial rapist and killer, a Ted Bundy type. You probably never heard of him. The whole story’s never been told.”

“He’s tHe genuine real deal,” says edmonds police detective dave Honnen, “a serial rapist and killer, a ted Bundy type.”

H

is name isn’t Ray Jacobs. But that is the name his girlfriend Margaret knew him by when they lived together before he almost killed her. They had met one day in the summer of 1975 at Seattle Center, became friends, then dated. Jacobs, 30, had lost his job at a bar in Tukwila, and Margaret allowed him to move in with her, first in Seattle and a few months later in a Kirkland

Tim Lane

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14–20, 2012

I

house they shared. (Her full name and those of some other 1970s victims are not being published because they could not be reached for comment today.) A 32-year-old single mom, Margaret knew little about her new roommate except that he was a cool and handsome catch. He came off as bright and athletic, a well-built six-footer with wavy brown hair, blue eyes, and an engaging smile. The tattoo on his right arm— of an anchor and the Navy logo—he got in the service, he said. Jacobs could be extremely thoughtful, a trait women would notice and mention about him. But some also discovered a violent side that came and went in a flash. Margaret first experienced it one night in October 1975, just weeks after they’d moved into the Kirkland home. They’d recently begun to argue about their relationship and the way

each thought the other should act. “We were making each other miserable,” Margaret recalled later in a police statement. That night, Jacobs promised he could make things good again, and tried to hold her, but she backed away. His demeanor changed in an instant: He punched her twice in the ribs, grabbing her and dragging her into the bedroom past Margaret’s 6-year-old daughter, who was watching TV in another room. The daughter heard Jacobs hitting Margaret, then heard her mom shouting and crying and fighting back. The girl ran to the room. Suddenly the other Ray was back: He stopped, said he was sorry, and began to cry, promising never to do that again. He told her they should go to the police station and he could turn himself in right now! Margaret said maybe they just needed

space—it might be best if he moved out for awhile. Jacobs relented, packed, and prepared to leave in the morning. Margaret and the daughter left early the next day, and Jacobs said he’d be gone when they returned. And he was, although he took some of Margaret’s blank checks, along with money from a piggy bank—and a door key. Friends cautioned Margaret to stay away until she was sure he was gone; after all, he’d assaulted her. She and her daughter bunked with others for days, periodically checking the home. After more than a week, she returned—and found Ray coming down from her attic. He acted nonchalant at first, saying he’d come through a basement window to get some of his things, then grew more emotional: He was lonely living alone and planned to commit suicide. Margaret stayed calm, and at one point went down to the basement to see if he really had come through a window and whether it was closed. As she checked around, the cellar door shut behind her. She turned, and the muscular Jacobs grabbed her by the throat, taking her to the floor in a choke hold. “Is this how I’m going to die?” she remembered asking herself, according to the statement she wrote for police. She began to struggle, grabbing his face; he in turn tried to bite her fingers. She scrambled free and stood up only to see him swinging an 18-inch pipe at her. He swung again and again at her head and arms, breaking her glasses and bloodying her face. “You kicked me out!” he shouted. The pain from the head blows left Margaret on the verge of passing out, but all she could think about was her daughter, and fought to stay conscious. “I remember one hit, and it just made my head go back and forth and my eyes blur.” She tried to reason with him: She didn’t kick him out, she pleaded, she was just trying to work things out. Then Jacobs heard the daughter crying at the top of the stairs. “Your mother’s OK!” he shouted to her. Margaret, her face covered with so much blood she could barely see, sensed Jacobs was more worried about the child’s reaction. “Get me something to put over my hair so that she can’t see [the blood] and won’t be afraid,” she said. Pipe still in hand, Jacobs told Margaret to go up to the bathroom and he’d wash her off. Talking through a cracked-open door, Margaret convinced her daughter to return to the TV room, then dashed into the bath. Jacobs ordered her to strip, keeping the pipe nearby. He washed off the blood, but it kept coming. Margaret pulled on some clothes and held a washcloth over the gashes on her head; then Jacobs agreed to drive her, with the girl, to a doctor. He was old Ray again: deeply sorry. How could he have ever done that? he wondered. Jacobs drove around for 45 minutes apologizing, asking Margaret not to tell police, and coaching her to say a stranger had attacked her. He crossed the floating bridge to Seattle, seemingly unsure what to do. “And so I tried to get him to talk about other things” to keep him calm, Margaret recalled, “and we prayed and he cried and he was really in anguish.” Jacobs finally pulled up to Group Health Hospital on Capitol Hill. Margaret and her daughter got out and Jacobs drove off. “That’s the last I saw of him,” she said after receiving 50 stitches and reporting the beating to police.

» Continued on page 12


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Murder Rewind » FROM PAGE 10 Kirkland police searched for Ray Jacobs, and tried to track him through police records. They found no criminal trail or driver’slicense matches. Whoever Jacobs was, he seemed to have vanished. It wasn’t the first time.

12

Well, just come and see the store, then decide, Jerry said. He promised to call her. Dalene waited weeks, but the call never came. Then one afternoon in late April, Jerry surprisingly walked in with a pack of cigarettes as a gift for her. He said they should go check out antiques that day to see if she was qualified for the job. Dalene was elated, and agreed to meet him at a nearby restaurant. They drove up Highway 99 toward Everett. “He kept pulling me over and asking me to sit by him, and I said I was a happily married woman and that I was just interested in a good job,” she’d later recall. He made several other moves on her during the day, but Dalene brushed it all off because she wanted the work. He dropped her off, agreeing to meet the following Monday. He wanted to introduce her to his business partner and show her some land he hoped to buy. He told her to wear a short skirt. “I told him my legs were too fat to wear a short dress, and he said to wear one anyway.” On Monday morning, Runaway Nakashima May 3, they drove north was killed at age again, pulling off near a 15, her decomposed wooded area in Mountbody found in the lake Terrace so he could woods. show her the property. She obliged when he asked her to wait behind a tree while he moved the car to another location 10 minutes away and returned. The land’s owner didn’t like him to park on the property, he told her. They tromped through weeds and blackberry bushes, then into a woodsy area. Jerry led her off the path, down a slope by a large tree. Suddenly he alene recalled first seeing the threw her to the ground and lifted her dress. man who called himself Jerry in “I just want to look,” he said. Dalene was March 1976. He walked into the stunned. self-service Rocket gas station on “I was getting upset and crying, and I Aurora Avenue in Seattle where the 20-yearasked him please not to do that and if that old woman worked as a cashier, and they was what he had in mind all the time. That began to chitchat about the noise the nine made him mad. Maybe I was screaming, I gas-pump computers made, whirring and don’t know, and he began choking me and clicking off and on. I was fighting him and he said if I stopped “How can you stand it?” he asked, as she’d screaming he would let go later recall in a statement to police. and I said OK.” “Sometimes I hear it in my sleep!” Dalene He pulled down her panty answered. hose and underwear and “Why don’t you get another job?” Jerry pulled up her bra and began asked. biting and sucking her, she “I’m not qualified for anything.” recalled. She resisted, and he “Oh, yes you are!” pulled out a long knife and Dalene thought it was a suggestive comstuck it in the ground next to ment. “You mean a prostitute or something?” them. She tried to think of a way out. If you she asked. want to have sex, let’s go to a motel, she said. “No, nothing like that!” Jerry said. He told Jerry seemed to calm down. He began to Dalene she should come to work for him. He apologize. But he wanted to know if she was had an antique business and needed a helper. just playing him. She wasn’t worth going to She could have her own office and a typejail for, he said. writer, and he’d pay her $3 an hour plus gas “He asked me to kiss him, and I thought and travel costs. he was just testing me, like, had I learned my That sounds great, Dalene said. But she’d lesson? I said ‘No.’ ” Jerry erupted again. “He started her $2.25-an-hour station job only six looked like he had hate in his eyes, and he weeks earlier, and was married and had a child. She didn’t think she could up and quit this soon. gritted his teeth and he threw me back and COURTESY OF TERE RYDER

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14–20, 2012

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ix months earlier, police in California were searching for a man named James Robert McQueary. Or, as he was sometimes known, Robert James McQueary. His aliases were numerous, and no one was certain if his real first name was Jim or Bob; he’d answer to both, as well as to John or Jerry, among others. Police were certain, however, that he’d raped and killed a teenage girl. For the previous four years, 1970–74, McQueary had been locked up in San Quentin in Marin County, alongside San Francisco Bay, convicted of rape and kidnapping. He’d been suspected of committing numerous other rapes and attempted rapes as well. Paroled in the summer of 1974, McQueary used his prison-taught barber skills to land a job cutting hair in a nursing home. In May 1975, according to police records and California news reports, the body of 19-year-old Terry Listman was found partially buried at a mobile home McQueary had rented in Novato, 25 miles north of San Francisco. She’d been stabbed or bludgeoned a week earlier. The victim may have been raped, police said, but tests were inconclusive; her remains were too badly decomposed by a Bay Area heat wave. Witnesses had seen McQueary digging near his trailer, and he had confided to a friend that he’d picked up a hitchhiker and later found her dead at his home. He panicked and buried her, he claimed. Police said McQueary had a history of picking up young hitchhikers, sometimes claiming he was a cop, and threatening them with a knife or bayonet. But McQueary had disappeared, and a dragnet failed to snare him. Marin detective Richard Keaton brought in a psychic he knew, Annette Martin, the first case in what became a long civic and professional partnership between the two (Keaton retired from the department in 1998, and he and Martin formed Closure4U Investigations to find missing persons and solve cold cases around the U.S.). At one point during her meeting with detectives—who figured McQueary had most likely fled California—Martin took deep breaths and went into a trance. Pointing to a U.S. map, she indicated the suspect would be found in Washington state. And by that time, he’d have killed again.

A bulletin for McQueary’s arrest was issued by the Marin County sheriff, advising other agencies that McQueary was “known to wear wigs and use cosmetics as disguise.” He was thought to be heading north, most likely to Washington. As it turned out, McQueary’s ex-wife lived near Port Angeles. Officials there were alerted; McQueary never showed. But he did indeed come to Washington, quietly landing in Seattle and taking an apartment on Capitol Hill under the name Ray Jacobs. A month later he met Margaret, whom he’d eventually almost kill. Shortly afterward, he moved to Edmonds. And changed his name again.

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choked me three or four times, and I was getting really dizzy and weak.” Then he apologized again and took the knife out of the ground. He let her hold it, and lit a cigarette for both to smoke. Seemingly humbled, he said she should just go ahead and tell her husband about what happened here and then go to the police. Trying to appease him, Dalene promised not to tell anyone. Jerry took back the knife and said they should go get the car. They walked past a rotted stump and he began poking it with the knife. “And he walked around the tree and turned around and stabbed me.” “Why, Jerry, why did you do that?” she said, falling back. “I didn’t hurt you,” he said. She lifted up her dress and blood spurted out. The long-bladed knife, a Nazi Youth dagger, had penetrated eight inches into her lower chest. “Oh, my God,” he said, “I must have slipped.” She lay on the ground, feeling as if she’d been punched, yet there was little pain, she recalled. When she tried to get up, he pushed her back, and began covering her with leaves. Jerry said he was going to get help, and left. But she could see him in the distance, watching from behind a tree. She was losing consciousness, opening and closing her eyes. After a while, he disappeared. Dalene waited, then began crawling through underbrush, trying to reach the road where they’d arrived. It took several groggy hours until she was close enough to a home for someone to hear her cries for help. When police and fire aid crews arrived, she was weak, having lost a lot of blood, but gave police a statement before being rushed to the hospital. She survived. Yet she didn’t know Jerry’s last name or much else about him, except for his car. Police alerted the news media, describing Jerry and his maroon late-1960s Chevrolet. Though details were sketchy, within hours a woman called in a case-breaking tip: Jerry sounded a lot like a man named Johnny. He drove a red Chevy and had married into her family recently, she said. His name was Johnny Dopp and his new wife Valerie worked at a local hospital. Mountlake Terrace police checked the hospital, but couldn’t locate the wife. Then came another female caller, saying the description fit a guy who worked at her nursing home. At the home, police confirmed a Johnny Dopp had worked there a short while until he was told to leave after making unwanted advances to a nurse’s aide. He was a smooth talker,

HE PULLED DOWN HER PANTY HOSE AND UNDERWEAR AND PULLED UP HER BRA AND BEGAN BITING AND SUCKING HER. drove a maroon Chevy, and had a thing for antiques, said a manager. He also sometimes used the name Jerry. By the next day, Mountlake Terrace investigators tracked down Valerie. She was employed at another nursing home in north Seattle, and was due to show up the next morning at 8. Mountlake Terrace and King County officers were waiting at 7:55 a.m. on May 6, 1976, when

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Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14– 20, 2012

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Murder Rewind » FROM PAGE 12 handsome Johnny Dopp arrived with his wife Valerie in a 1966 maroon Chevrolet Impala. He was asked to get out and place his hands on the roof of the car. The cops shook him down and advised him of his rights. He declined to speak. The officers figured they’d just wrapped up a vicious felony assault case. They had no idea they’d nabbed a suspect in two homicides, including one that nobody but the killer knew about.

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en days after Johnny Dopp was taken into Mountlake Terrace police custody, two kids playing in a wooded area in nearby Edmonds discovered the decomposed body, clad only in shoes and socks, of Allison Nakashima. Her panties were around her ankle, and other clothing was scattered around the crime scene. An investigation and autopsy would determine the Seattle teen had been missing for more than a month. She had been left in the woods at least several weeks earlier. “In view of the scene and circumstances,” wrote King County Medical Examiner Donald Reay, who did the autopsy for Snohomish County, “the death should be viewed as violent and consistent with asphyxia.” Edmonds police had no immediate leads. But they were aware of the ongoing investigation in Mountlake Terrace of Johnny Dopp, who had now been positively identified by Dalene as the man who’d put a knife into her stomach and left her for dead. The two jurisdictions began to compare notes just as the FBI reported back on a records check police had sought: Johnny (Jerry) Dopp was also Ray Jacobs, the man who’d almost killed a woman in Kirkland. More important, he was also James Robert McQueary, a convicted kidnapper and suspected serial rapist wanted for first-degree murder in California. Details of all the crimes he’d committed or was suspected of suddenly began to arrive, along with California officials who gave notice they intended to prosecute McQueary for the Novato slaying once Washington was through with him. All of which was news to Valerie, McQueary’s wife. They had met in December 1975, not long after he, as Ray Jacobs, had left a battered Margaret at the hospital. Valerie said she worked as a housekeeper at a nursing home where McQueary had gotten an orderly’s job under the name Johnny Dopp. Valerie took the Dopp surname when they were married the following February, not knowing he had appropriated the alias from a driver’s license he’d stolen. In an interview with Edmonds police, Valerie told detective Robin Hickok that she’d never seen Dopp lose his temper until a few weeks after they were married. That happened when she finally got around to asking him personal questions about his life and family. He threatened her and told her not to bring up the subject again. She’d become a bit afraid of him since, and didn’t ask many questions when he’d sometimes disappear from home for most of the day and into the night. Detective Hickok’s ears perked up when Valerie mentioned that she and Dopp had recently moved to the Bothell area from Edmonds. John had seemed so happy at the Edmonds apartment, she said, until just

before Easter, which was April 18. Then he suddenly came up with all sorts of reasons why they should move out. The exit was so sudden that they left owing rent on the apartment—which, she said, was just a block or so away from this nice wooded area. That would be the wooded area where Allison Nakashima’s body was found, Hickok noted in his report. Valerie recalled that Dopp had told her there was a tree house in the woods—it couldn’t be seen from the street—and that he was gone all night on April 10 or 11, roughly the presumed date of Nakashima’s death. He also liked to hang around Sambo’s restaurant in North Seattle, she told Hickok. (That was one of Nakashima’s hangouts too.) And, the wife said, for some reason John collects women’s underwear and hides them around the house. She agreed to hand them over to Hickok, who gave her a receipt for 25 pairs of bikini panties. “At this time,” Hickok wrote at the end of his report, “the subject named Robert J. McQueary is a prime suspect in this case.” And maybe in others. A San Francisco detective called Hickok to tell him about four female homicide victims he thought could be connected. And Mountlake Terrace police were hearing from an array of possible—living—victims. More than a dozen women called or were contacted to tell their stories. Some said they were hustled by Dopp or Jacobs or whoever he was. A woman told of being accosted by him when he knocked on her door and said he was a door-to-door vacuum salesman: “He tried to kiss me” after giving his sales pitch, said one. Others reported he had posed as a plainclothes police officer and tried to arrest them for hitchhiking. One woman complained she’d bought him $150 in clothing and was never paid back. The manager of a bar where Jacobs had briefly worked said he was a problem employee who always hit on female customers. And one caller said McQueary was the nice-looking, smooth-talking man who raped her a few weeks before his arrest. She had

“ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING POINTS TO THIS GUY,” HONNEN SAYS, “AND I THINK HE GOT AWAY WITH MORE CRIMES THAN WE’LL EVER KNOW.” danced with him at a Lynnwood nightclub, and he forcibly led her out a side door to his car, then drove her to a secluded area. She’d been drinking and acting unwisely, she said, but when he began kissing and trying to undress her, she refused and got out. He chased her around the car half-naked, and she fell and hit her head on the bumper. He pinned her to the ground, and she “submitted” to the rape, she said. Then he began to apologize. He was like two different people at any given moment, she recalled. The woman later ID’d the rapist as McQueary. Though he was questioned about that and other crimes, including the beating of Margaret and the California murder and the slaying of Allison Nakashima, McQueary would not cop to any of them. In effect, the Mountlake Terrace case would have to serve as justice for all McQueary’s real and suspected lawbreaking. It was the first, last, and only crime he was ever charged with in Washington.

He went to trial in August 1976, and after two days copped a plea to first-degree assault. The Snohomish County prosecutor asked for a 75-year sentence, citing McQueary’s criminal past and the near-murderous assault of Dalene, and a judge rounded it out to a life sentence. He gave no recommendation for a minimum term of confinement. But the state Board of Prison Terms and Paroles—now the Indeterminate Sentence Review Board—set his minimum release date at 50 years. If he lived that long, he’d have been free at age 80.

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ust before his sentencing, McQueary tried fruitlessly to take back his guilty plea. He also filed numerous state and federal appeals, losing them all. Though the sentencing board later reset his minimum term at 24 years, making him eligible for parole after 2000, he was still behind bars in late 2009. That’s when current-day Edmonds police detective Dave Honnen began a routine cold-case review of the Allison Nakashima file—coincidentally, about the time that Nakashima’s half-sister Tere Ryder and her partner asked about the case after moving to Edmonds. The picturesque waterside city of 40,000— home base of TV host and travel writer Rick Steves, where a street is named after homegrown Olympic skater Rosalynn Sumners— has an especially low violent-crime rate. Since 2005 there have been three murders, all solved. Besides the Nakashima case, the department of 56 sworn officers has just one other unsolved cold file—on Cam Totty, 24, a transient whose body was also dumped in Edmonds, behind a gas station. That was in 1999 (while McQueary was behind bars). “I thought it was worth another shot to go over the Nakashima case again to see what we could see,” Honnen says. Besides discovering that McQueary was the prime suspect, Honnen learned the aging inmate was about to come up for a parole hearing in March 2010. Having served more than 30 years, McQueary had a good chance of being released. Honnen also discovered that California authorities, in the belief McQueary was in for life, had dismissed the Novato homicide case against him. Similarly, no Washington jurisdiction was likely to bring charges in their 1970s cases because of poor or missing evidence and disappeared witnesses. In January 2010, Honnen and police chief Al Compaan began to alert authorities to this. Their own case was aged, and they had no physical evidence to charge McQueary. But the two cops were hoping someone else might step up. They notified California officials in case they wished to renew the charges and put a hold on McQueary. Compaan also wrote to the state Department of Corrections in Olympia, to the Airway Heights Corrections Center near Spokane where McQueary was being held, and to the Sentence Review Board, providing a summary of the Nakashima investigation and reminding board members that “Robert James McQueary is the only suspect.” A month, then two, passed. Then came word of McQueary’s release from prison—to the Heritage Funeral Home in Spokane. On March 7, 2010, two weeks before the parole hearing, Ray Jacobs, Johnny Dopp, and Robert James McQueary dropped dead. The cause was terminal throat cancer. It was his 34th year behind bars. He was 63.

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Murder Rewind » FROM PAGE 14 “I guess he heard I was coming and he croaked,” Det. Honnen says with a satisfied grunt. His review of the case left him with no doubts about McQueary’s role. “Absolutely everything points to this guy,” Honnen says, “and I think he got away with more crimes than we’ll ever know.” Not much is written down about McQueary’s early years. According to his state death certificate, he was born in Kentucky in 1946. He claimed to be college-educated, and several of his victims recalled that he spoke German with a Southern drawl. His parents are deceased, and his only sibling, a sister who provided the state with death-certificate details about his birth and background, died last October in Cincinnati, according to Ohio death records. No other relatives could be located. Though police and court records throughout his criminal career listed him as both James Robert McQueary and Robert James McQueary, his sister said he was born James Robert. It was under that name that Jim McQueary, in prison, continued to pursue women, corresponding with female pen pals and eventually meeting and marrying two of them. According to public records, he married a Portland woman while he was imprisoned in the state penitentiary in Walla Walla in 1977. They later divorced, and he married a Yakima woman after being transferred to Airway Heights within the past decade. A Spokane court record shows the bride had the marriage annulled in 2005. Neither ex could be reached for comment.

It’s difficult to separate fact from fiction in recounting McQueary’s life, says Honnen. “He was a con man. What didn’t he lie about?” Despite the detective’s strong beliefs that Nakashima was McQueary’s second murder victim, the suspect’s death did not wrap up the Edmonds cold case. No one has been convicted or confessed, and conclusive evidence is lacking. The murder officially remains unsolved.

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hat’s how it remains in Tere Ryder’s mind as well. She thinks the pimp deported to Canada had more motive to kill the teen. In an April 5, 1976, statement Nakashima gave to police about a week before she went missing, she tells of having sex with the suspect for $25 in an Aurora Avenue motel, then having sex with a john she picked up with the suspect’s help. The suspect denied the charges and agreed to be deported to Alberta in lieu of going to trial. The record is incomplete, but he appeared to still be in custody, held on $5,000 bail, at the time Nakashima disappeared. The pimp’s whereabouts today are not known to police. If he’s alive, he would be in his 80s. In her role as amateur investigator—poring over case files and trying to track down new leads—Ryder learned that Edmonds detectives talked to McQueary after he was imprisoned. McQueary told them he wasn’t the killer, but claimed that one of his cellmates had confessed to the slaying. Case records confirm a 1978 prison meet-up, although in their report detectives said McQueary would not name the supposed confessor, and that they didn’t believe his story.

“Edmonds police told me they had no evidence that directly connects McQueary to my sister, so I’m not sure how they can think this case is ‘solved,’ ” says Ryder. “Reading through the case over and over, I am even more convinced they’re wrong.” In some respects, Ryder regrets getting involved. She wonders if her interest in finding a killer provoked someone to spy on her. She has called police several times after strangers began parking for long periods outside her home, watching it, she says. Her late drug-using mother had ties to organized crime, she adds, and Ryder has come up with several theories about family acquaintances who might have had a motive to take out the teen prostitute. She’s trying not to overreact to what she’s unearthed, but “As it was, when I did go to the police station here, it took me 30 minutes sitting outside before I could muster up what I needed to go into the building,” she says. She has spent long hours alone in the studio typing memos and scribbling little notes to herself, throwing them into a small box until she needed a larger box. The sleuthing has been at times exhausting, she says. But she felt she owed it to Allison, and thinks there’ll ultimately be a payoff. “Researching her case was the last thing I ever thought I would be doing in my life,” says Ryder. “But I feel I’m close to resolving it.” Det. Honnen, on the other hand, has moved on to other, current, crimes, though he also has his regrets. “McQueary was active during the Ted Bundy years,” Honnen

points out, and Edmonds case files indicate McQueary was at one time a suspect in murders later found to have been committed by the Tacoma-rasied Bundy, one of America’s most notorious serial killers and rapists. As part of the Nakashima cold-case review, Edmonds police undertook new DNA tests on the victim’s underwear and pants. The findings were inconclusive, but any match attempt would have been in vain, Honnen later discovered: Because McQueary was incarcerated prior to the passage of the state

“EDMONDS POLICE TOLD ME THEY HAD NO EVIDENCE THAT DIRECTLY CONNECTS MCQUEARY TO MY SISTER, SO I’M NOT SURE HOW THEY CAN THINK THIS CASE IS ‘SOLVED.’ ” law that now requires that biological samples be taken from convicted felons and some misdemeanor lawbreakers, DNA samples were never gathered from the suspected killer. That left investigators with no hope of ever matching him to other cold cases. McQueary seems to have defied investigators even from the great beyond. Three days after he died, his remains were cremated. But while McQueary will never be convicted of serial violence, Honnen’s review, and even Tere Ryder’s investigation, exposed the likelihood that he was capable of it. E randerson@seattleweekly.com

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the»weekly»wire Paul Allen, buy this photo for your EMP: Fans of Jimi Hendrix (1979).

wed/3/14

venues including Pacific Place and SIFF Cinema at the Uptown, the fest includes over 20 more titles, music, and related cultural events. Cinerama, 2100 Fourth Ave., 324-9996, seattlejewishfilmfestival.org. $50–$75 (regular screenings $9–$15). 6:45 p.m. BRIAN MILLER

PHOTOGRAPHY

A New Continent

BRIAN MILLER

thurs/3/15 BOOKS

Harmonic Convergence

I hate writers who miss deadlines. So, at page 204 (of 369) in Hari Kunzru’s latest novel, I can offer only a partial endorsement of this California desert saga, which skips back and forth from 2009 to Spanish colonial days and many years in between. Gods Without Men (Knopf, $26.95) skillfully shifts among a large cast of players,

fri/3/16 BOOKS

© MALICK SIDIBÉ/M.I.A GALLERY

In the Zona

who include a dissolute British rocker, a flying-saucer cult, the shape-shifting animals of Native American myth, Iraqi refugees, Brooklyn yuppies, and Mormon heretics. All are seekers of a sort, some certifiably nuts and possibly homicidal, others just desperate and scared. What they’re missing, in a sense, is the spark of the divine so absent from our secular world. They want answers, clarity, that the tangled material realm refuses to provide. Some of Kunzru’s characters look to the sky for salvation, for UFOs to come provide guidance; others turn to peyote or even computer algorithms. For instance, the PunjabiAmerican father of a missing autistic boy is a Wall Street quant whose mathematical models reveal “a strange harmony to the movements of this grab bag of statistics,” one that his boss (possibly another dangerous cult leader) tells him is “an attempt to stand outside time.” It’s the same impulse that draws so many pilgrims to the Mojave Desert, where they wait for the aliens. What the reader encounters, at least, is an intriguing series of coincidences as characters reappear and parallels recur over time. But if the novel falls apart in its last third, blame Kunzru, not me. Elliott Bay Book Co., 1521 10th Ave., 624-6600, elliottbaybook.com. Free. 7 p.m. BRIAN MILLER

FILM

Family Trials

If you insist on seeing something grim and Holocausty, In Darkness is still playing at the Seven Gables. Otherwise, the 17th edition of the Seattle Jewish Film Festival begins on a more contemporary and familial note with The Flood, an affecting little coming-of-age movie about a scrawny boy anxiously studying for his bar mitzvah. Yoni, a little hustler, does other kids’ homework to buy protein powder; teenage muscles can’t come fast enough, especially when he’s being bullied at school. The Roshko family has more problems on top of Yoni’s: their older, autistic son has been sent home from an institution; father Gidi, an aviator, has been grounded for obscure reasons; and mother Miri’s day-care center begins to falter while she cares for Tomer, the movie’s Rain Man figure. “We are the village freak show,” Yoni despairs, but Guy Nattiv’s drama doesn’t present the Roshkos’ troubles with undue solemnity. These are ordinary folks struggling with everyday hardships that Seattle viewers may recognize from their own lives. Scenes between the two brothers, collecting bugs and visiting the beach, suggest a more benign Of Mice and Men. The film is followed by a gala after-party at the Palace Ballroom. Running through March 25 at

Possibly the longest movie review ever written, Geoff Dyer’s Zona: A Book About a Film About a Journey to a Room (Pantheon, $24) immediately becomes essential reading for all you fans of the late Russian director Andrei Tarkovsky (1932–1986), who form an obsessive group. Dyer would know, being one of their tribe; he’s particularly obsessed with the 1979 Stalker, a very slow and gnomic three-hour art movie that he has seen dozens of times—but never on video! because that would be sacrilege!—and describes as “a literal journey that is also a journey into cinematic space and—in tandem—into time.” Part of the book’s charm is that it’s as much about the author as about the auteur. Dyer keeps injecting himself into the text with digressive Pale Fire–length footnotes (he hates Top Gear, loves Burning Man, doesn’t do as much acid as when he first bonded with Stalker, etc.), revealing most of his British quirks with a candor entirely absent in Stalker itself. However, let’s be frank: Many cinéastes find Tarkovsky a colossal bore and Stalker a hopeless pile of pretentious hokum—only profound to those who habitually go out looking for profundity (or are stoned). But even for nonbelievers, Zona is highly entertaining, because Dyer is such an erudite and lively writer. (On the rise of texting: “In evolutionary terms, the index finger enjoyed a long period of dominance in the era of the rotary phone, but this action is now close to extinct . . . while the thumb enjoys a renaissance in the age of texting and mobiles.”) He could just as easily write a book-length appreciation of, say, Project X. Which we would gladly also read. Seattle Central Library, 1000 Fourth Ave., 386-4636, spl.org. 7 p.m. BRIAN MILLER

sat/3/17 SPORTS

So Many Questions

Of course Seattle Sounders fans get giddy at the start of every season, and proclaim “This is our year!” But there seems to be a more intense, even edgy, nervous energy about the start of this season. Partly that’s because of the roster turnover, more extensive than at the beginning of 2010 or 2011, with retirements

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14– 20, 2012

It takes courage to open a gallery these days, when so many have closed since the recession hit. Yet that’s just what Mariane Lenhardt has done downtown, and her first show justifies that confidence. A Parisian of African ancestry, she moved to Seattle last year because “my husband works for Boeing,” she explains. The focus of her M.I.A Gallery—not to be confused with the old Mia Gallery in Pioneer Square, which closed in ’97—will be contemporary and African art, making Malick Sidibé a perfect first show. Now in his late 70s, he apprenticed in a photo studio in Bamako, the capital of Mali, just as colonial rule was coming to an end. Once he could afford a camera, he went freelance, soon becoming Bamako’s top party and studio photographer of the ’60s and ’70s. It was a giddy, heady time—the French were leaving, rock and roll was being discovered on LPs and transistor radios, men and women were allowed to mingle at dances, where the girls wore miniskirts and the guys sharp suits and ties. Sure, there’s poverty and drought outside the frame of Sidibé’s bright-flash images, but these are celebratory shots of people who want to celebrate (or dance or show off their new motorcycles). Leave it to Western photojournalists to cover the famines and orphans. This is African photography for Africans—and it’s the best Seattle photo show I’ve seen in the past couple of seasons. There’s something proud and joyous about most of Sidibé’s subjects; their snazzy Western fashions help convey the optimism of the times: Black Power in the U.S., Miles Davis and Jimi Hendrix on the airwaves, and the old map of French Sudan being redrawn into Mali and Senegal. Their world was profoundly new, and Sidibé beautifully captures the promise of that era. (Ends March 24.) M.I.A Gallery, 1203 Second Ave., 467-4927, m-i-a-gallery.com. Free. 10:30 a.m.–5:30 p.m.

» CONTINUED ON PAGE 20 19


The Weekly Wire » FROM PAGE 19 and eyebrow-raising trades. But goalkeeper Michael Gspurning has so far given us no serious reason to worry about his ability to replace icon (not to say deity) Kasey Keller. A crowd of 23,000 got a small taste of new forward Eddie Johnson at the March 7 CONCACAF Champions League match, and seemed impressed; he’s going to get very little benefit of the doubt, though, considering his controversially uneven career, and that we gave up two fan favorites for him, and that we’ve been burned before by hyped would-be saviors. But as of this writing we’re undefeated in pre-MLS matches. Steve Zakuani’s return, after a broken leg last April, is eagerly (not to say manically) anticipated. David Estrada, formerly David Who?, may be this season’s Mauro Rosales, the hero who snuck in and shocked everyone. On paper, we could—we really could—take it all. On the other hand, fans are still reeling from the poleax blow of 2011’s first playoff game, last October 29 at Real Salt Lake—a 3-0 loss, our Alamo, our Titanic, our Pearl Harbor. So many question marks, but so much proven excellence. How will it all shake out? The MLS season opens tonight, against Toronto. CenturyLink Field, 800 Occidental Ave. S., soundersfc.com. $28–$98. 7 p.m. GAVIN BORCHERT

April 20 – May 20

by Lee Hall

Inspired by a book by William Feaver Directed by Kurt Beattie

Mining was their way of life. Painting transformed how they saw it.

731 WESTLAKE AVE. N, SEATTLE • 206.223.0300 Join us for our

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14–20, 2012

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Hoops Madness Party

Kids play in the game room for FREE and the parents can watch the tournament! MARCH 13 - APRIL 2

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FRI: DANCE

First Date: A New Musical March 10 – May 20 Selling Fast

A Co-production with the 5th Avenue Theatre

Choreographer Lopez Ochoa.

*

Young Playwright Festival March 15 – 17

BLISSED OUT

Dance audiences are like vampires—they demand fresh blood. New works are an exception to the repertory rule in classical music, but they’re a regular occurrence in the dance world. Pacific Northwest Ballet director Peter Boal is adding to the company collection with this year’s New Works program, featuring choreography that extends ballet past its classical roots into a trio of contemporary directions. Hip-hop artist Victor Quijada returns to PNB with Mating Theory, a new hybrid work incorporating capoeira, yoga, and martial arts. Annabelle Lopez Ochoa will expand her recent work Cylindrical Shadows, originally made for Olivier Wevers’ Whim W’Him company, which reflects her foundations in European contemporary dance. Lastly, Britishtrained David Dawson finds a glorious exuberance in that English technical specificity with A Million Kisses to My Skin, a work he intends to evoke “complete bliss.” (Through March 24.) McCaw Hall, 321 Mercer St. (Seattle Center), 441-2424, pnb.org. $28–$168. 7:30 p.m. SANDRA KURTZ

Tenth Annual Festival showcasing eight world premiere plays!

Construction Zone March 26

A new play development workshop. This month features My Before And After, by Michael Louis Serafin-Wells.

The Twilight Zone: Live! April 6 – 28

Three episodes from Rod Serling’s iconic television series brought to life by Theater Schmeater. In color!

See it all with an ACTPass! acttheatre.org | 206.292.7676 700 Union Street, Downtown Seattle


No pot of gold? Have a glass of gold… Old Seattle Lager.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day Maritime Pacific’s Jolly Roger Taproom • 1111 NW Ballard Way • 206.782.6181

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14– 20, 2012

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seattle: 206.624.6248 • bellevue: 425.747.9012 renton 425.277.1635 • beaverton: 503.643.4512

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14–20, 2012

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TM

March 20-25 • The Paramount Theatre 877-STG-4TIX • STGPresents.org ®

Tickets available at Tickets.com and select Ticketmaster locations Additional fees may apply. All sales final, no refunds. Prices, shows, dates, schedules, and artists are subject to change.

P Happy Days

NEW CITY THEATER, 1404 18TH AVE., 271-4430, NEWCITYTHEATER.ORG. $15–$20. 8 P.M. THURS.–SAT. ENDS MARCH 24.

First of all, this is a terrific production of one of Samuel Beckett’s most accessible plays, first performed in 1961. If you’ve never heard of the Irish existentialist playwright (1906– 1989), or the plight of his immobile heroine, stop reading now and just go see it. Now that the newbies have left the room, we can discuss the chatty, middle-aged Winnie (consummate Beckett pro Mary Ewald), who’s buried to her navel in a giant sand mound. Nearby, her husband Willie (Seanjohn Walsh) takes refuge from her tidal yappings in a sand hole. Though it’s not clear

Walsh and Ewald in Beckett’s beautiful wasteland.

what got them there or how they survive, we are gradually apprised of some rules of their existence. Their waking day begins and ends with a bell. The sun is always shining. Sundries in Winnie’s shopping bag are running out. In her boredom, Winnie supplements these immutable laws with invented ones, including forcibly chipper edicts (“Mustn’t complain!” “It is a happy day!”) and the hilariously self-stinting “Do not overdo the bag.” As usual, Ewald is spellbinding. Though her talent merits more audience than New City’s tiny venue can accommodate, it’s a pleasure to be seated this close. Decked out by Nina Moser (who also co-designed the set with director John Kazanjian) in pearls, dainty feathered swimming tank, and meringue-like hat, her articulate, ritualistic gestures depict a person trying to fashion a varied world from the sparest of tool kits. Ewald is a master magnifier of humanity, with the tiniest details— like the jiggling of her pale arm flesh while hoisting a parasol against a merciless sun— enhancing pathos. Poor sun-scorched Willie, glimpsed only rarely and briefly, exists like a plant in a lonely lady’s apartment: He’s a comedic excuse for Winnie’s one-sided conversation. Yet within these constraints, Walsh shines, deadpanning his few lines— including one particularly delectable one about the propagation of ants, which he ad-libs from Latin as “formication.” In New City’s artfully cramped production, the play somehow expands Winnie’s life, and

ours, with details that are futile and empty on one level, yet oddly, inexplicably lovable on another. Throughout the 90-minute two-act, I was as restless as I’ve ever felt in a theater seat. Just as Beckett would have wanted. MARGARET FRIEDMAN

The Rise and Fall of Little Voice ARTSWEST, 4711 CALIFORNIA AVE. S.W., 938-0339, ARTSWEST.ORG. $10–$34.50. 7:30 P.M. WED.–SAT., 3 P.M. SUN. ENDS MARCH 31.

The Rise and Fall of Little Voice is produced infrequently, likely because it demands a young actress capable of imitating an array of 20th-century songstresses, from Marilyn Monroe to Julie Andrews to Edith Piaf. Jim Cartwright wrote the play in 1992 for the talented Jane Horrocks (Bubbles on Absolutely Fabulous), leading to the movie Little Voice. More recently it was revived in the West End as a vehicle for Diana Vickers, a runner-up on Britain’s The X Factor. Here in West Seattle, director Christopher Zinovitch has found an exceptional talent in Myrna Conn, a local high-school student. Conn’s energetic mid-show medley is the production’s highlight; she clearly has the potential for a musical-theater career. There is, however, another explanation for the play’s scarcity: the script. Cartwright’s story ties together a group of over-the-top characters in a sort-of-funny/sort-of-tragic plot that doesn’t always make sense. Grieving the death of her father, LV (as she’s always called) reclusively buries her sorrows in his old records, much to the irritation of her self-obsessed alcoholic mother, Mari (an excellent Peggy Gannon). The widowed Mari is on the prowl for a new man. Thus enters Ray (Daniel Reaume), a music agent looking for a one-night stand, who inadvertently discovers the mimicry talents of the otherwise mute LV. Ray has to pretend he’s interested in Mari, and Mari has to pretend she’s interested in her daughter. There’s also a sweet, underdeveloped romance between LV and a telephone repairman (Travis Tingvall), and there’s also a character whose entire purpose is to be the butt of fat jokes (Patricia Haines-Ainsworth). It’s the setup for a farce, or maybe a musical comedy. But Little Voice takes itself too seriously for either. It strives for realism, which leaves us with a string of unanswered questions: When and how did the father die? Why does the repairman lust after a girl who doesn’t talk? And how does LV learn to impersonate celebrities’ physicality in a time before YouTube? Zinovitch opts to emphasize the music, even adding a new Broadway-style number written by Suzy Conn (the mother of Myrna). If Cartwright had written High School Musical IV, the song would have fit in perfectly. But he didn’t, and this heavy-handed theme song further muddles the tone of the play. BRENT ARONOWITZ E L. SMITH

OPENS NEXT WEEK!

arts»Opening Nights

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EARSHOT JAZZ PRESENTS

SIERRA MAESTRA Direct from Cuba, authentic son recalling the golden age of the 1920s and 30s

photo by Brad Madjeski

Saturday, March 31 Town Hall Seattle

8 pm 1119 Eighth Avenue, Seattle

EAR SHOT JAZZ p: 206.547.6763 w: www.earshot.org

Tickets available through www.brownpapertickets.com / 1-800-838-3006 Yes, there will be a dance floor. More information at www.earshot.org / 206-547-6763

This exhibition is on loan from The Textile Museum, Washington, D.C. Exhibition sponsor is MIR Corporation

SEATTLE ASIAN ART MUSEUM | Volunteer Park

Robe/munisak (detail), late 19th century, Central Asia, Uzbekistan, Bukhara, silk wrap, cotton weft, warp-faced plain weave. The Textile Museum, The Megalli Collection

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14– 20, 2012

MARCH 15–AUGUST 5

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Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14–20, 2012


arts»Performance

Raisbeck Performance Hall, 2015 Boren Ave., 800-838-3006, newcenturytheatrecompany.org. $20. 8 p.m. Fri., March 16–Sun., March 18. IT SHOULDA BEEN YOU Born at Village Theatre, Brian Hargrove and Barbara Anselmi’s comedy about a chaotic Jewish/Catholic wedding. Village Theatre, 303 Front St. N., Issaquah, 425-392-2202, villagetheatre.org. $22–$62. Opens March 14. Runs Wed.–Sat. plus some Tues. & Sun. evenings. Ends April 22 (runs at Everett Performing Arts Center April 27–May 20). JACK HITT: MAKING UP THE TRUTH This American Life regular Hitt’s solo show. Northwest Film Forum, 1515 12th Ave., nwfilmforum.org. $12–$15. 8 p.m. Thurs., March 15–Sat., March 17. LARK EDEN Natalie Symons reprises her play about an epistolary friendship among three women. Theater Schmeater, 1500 Summit Ave., 324-5801, schmeater. org. $10–$23. Opens March 16. 8 p.m. Thurs.–Sat. (except March 31). Ends April 14. MAMMA MIA! How can T H I S CO D E a dumb show packaged out TO DOWNLOAD THE FREE of Top-40 pop tunes remain SEATTLE WEEKLY on Broadway for over 10 IPHONE/ANDROID APP years now, continue to tour, FOR MORE EVENTS OR VISIT and inspire a 2008 film starseattleweekly.com ring Meryl Streep in pigtails that became the highestgrossing movie musical in the world? Easy: Those aren’t just any pop tunes—they’re ABBA, wedged into an insipid story about a young woman getting married on a Grecian island and the three men she’s invited to determine which is her father. Fortunately, Mamma Mia! never takes itself too seriously. It must be conceded that those damn Swedes really knew what they were doing. STEVE WIECKING The Paramount, 911 Pine St., 877-784-4849, stgpresents.org. $25–$90. 7:30 p.m. Tues., March 20–Thurs., March 22; 8 p.m. Fri., March 23; 2 & 8 p.m. Sat., March 24; 1 & 6:30 p.m. Sun., March 25.

SCAN

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CURRENT RUNS

DINA MARTINA: AMPLE WATTAGE! An all-new show

from the supreme mistress of entretainment. Re-bar, 1114 Howell St., 800-838-3006. $20. 8 p.m. (most) Fri.–Sat., 2 p.m. (some) Sun.; see brownpapertickets.com for exact schedule. Ends April 22. FIRST DATE The premiere of a musical “about one date, two people, and all the voices in their heads.” ACT Theatre, 700 Union St., 292-7676. $15–$69. Opens March 29, previews until then. Runs Tues.–Sun.; see acttheatre. org for exact schedule. Ends May 20. HAPPY DAYS SEE REVIEW, PAGE 22. RED John Logan’s 2010 play imagines abstract painter Mark Rothko hiring an ambitious young helper whose attitude shifts from reverence to ridicule as Pop Art begins to supplant modernism. If predictably Oedipal, the arc is satisfying, especially as played out on Kent Dorsey’s art-studio set, where the breathtaking paintings are launched straight into your soul.

•

EarSupply

» by gavin borchert

Just Before the Battle, Mother

KHAMBATTA DANCE COMPANY Cyrus Khambatta’s

new piece India Calling was inspired by his first meeting with his father in decades. Kirkland Performance Center, 350 Kirkland Ave., Kirkland, 425-893-9900, khambatta dance.org. $15–$20. 7:30 p.m. Fri., March 16. SAVION GLOVER His touring show “SoLe Sanctuary” reflects his heritage. On a stage lined with photos of past tap greats, Glover quotes from their steps, mixing them with excerpts from his own, growing, history. SANDRA KURTZ The Moore, 1932 Second Ave., 877-784-4849, stgpresents.org. $45–$57.50. 8 p.m. Fri., March 16. BOOST DANCE FESTIVAL Marlo Martin’s showcase of a wild variety of local choreographers runs a gamut between abstract and narrative, experienced and neophyte, physically unfettered and classically serene; she says this crop of dances shares a common athleticism and stamina. SANDRA KURTZ Erickson Theatre Off Broadway, 1524 Harvard Ave., boostdancefestival.com. $18. Opens March 16. 8 p.m. Fri.–Sat. Ends March 24. CHIPOLLINO In which the son of a family of onions battles a tyrant known as Prince Lemon. Meydenbauer Center, 11100 N.E. Sixth St., Bellevue, 800-838-3006, interballettheatre.org. $25–$50. 7:30 p.m. Fri., March 16, 2 & 7:30 p.m. Sat., March 17, 2 p.m. Sun., March 18. PNB: NEW WORKS SEE THE WIRE, PAGE 19. PNB: SNOW WHITE Students of the PNB School tackle the fairy-tale romance, choreographed by Bruce Wells. McCaw Hall, Seattle Center, 441-2424, pnb.org. $22–$67. 3:30 p.m. Sat., March 17, 4:30 p.m. Sun., March 18, 10:30 a.m. Fri., March 23, noon & 3:30 p.m. Sun., March 25.

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MARCH 15 & 17

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MORLOT CONDUCTS

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Classical, Etc.

CALDER QUARTET Quartets by Mozart, Beethoven, and

Jacob Ter Veldhuis. Meany Hall, UW campus, 543-4880, uwworldseries.org. $20–$34. 8 p.m. Wed., March 14. CHORAL ARTS SEE EAR SUPPLY. SEATTLE SYMPHONY Dutilleux’s cello concerto Tout un monde lointain and more. Benaroya Hall, 200 University St., 215-4747, seattlesymphony.org. $17–$110. 7:30 p.m. Thurs., March 15, 8 p.m. Sat., March 17. DEGENERATE ART ENSEMBLE One of five performance-art troupes hand-picked by Robert Wilson to collaborate on a revival of his opera with Philip Glass, Einstein on the Beach. See a preview of their contribution. The Moore, 1932 Second Ave., degenerateart ensemble.com. Free. 8 p.m. Thurs., March 15. NORTHWEST SINFONIETTA Music by Beethoven, Schubert, and Tchaikovsky. Benaroya Recital Hall, Third Ave. and Union St., 866-833-4747, nwsinfonietta.org. $19–$49. 7:30 p.m. Fri., March 16. SEATTLE SYMPHONY Soprano Renee Fleming sings Gounod, Ravel, etc., plus cuts from her indie-rock album Dark Hope. Benaroya Hall, 200 University St., 215-4747, seattlesymphony.org. $65–$180. 8 p.m. Fri., March 16. GALLERY CONCERTS Baroque chamber music by female composers. Queen Anne Christian Church, 1316 Third Ave. W., galleryconcerts.org. $15–$24. 7:30 p.m. Sat., March 17, 3 p.m. Sun., March 18. SEATTLE PIANIST COLLECTIVE From these four pianists, music by Messiaen, plus jazz and works for toy piano. At the Chapel Performance Space, 4649 Sunnyside Ave. N., 8 p.m. Sat., March 17, and the Seattle Asian Art Museum, 1400 E. Prospect St., 2 p.m. Sun., March 18. $10–$15. XAVIER PHILLIPS A solo recital (Kodaly, Dutilleux, Bach) from this weekend’s Seattle Symphony cello soloist. Benaroya Recital Hall, Third Ave. and Union St., 215-4747, seattlesymphony.org. $35. 2 p.m. Sun., March 18. SYMPHONIC STORIES New works by local composers in a fundraiser for the Sendai (Japan) Philharmonic. Benaroya Hall, 200 University St., 215-4747, symphonic stories.com. $15–$30. 2 p.m. Sun., March 18. PHILHARMONIA NORTHWEST Michael Partington plays Bryan Johanson’s guitar concerto The Underdog. St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, 4805 N.E. 45th St., philharmonianw.org. $12–$18. 2:30 p.m. Sun., March 18. ONYX CHAMBER PLAYERS Beethoven piano trios. Town Hall, 1119 Eighth Ave., onyxchamberplayers.com. $10–$20. 7 p.m. Sun., March 18.

• • •

DEBUSSY

&RAVEL LUDOVIC MORLOT conductor XAVIER PHILLIPS cello SEATTLE SYMPHONY

•

Evoking the timelessness of grief and loss.

especially apropos in a election season that’s seeing pathologically irresponsible drum-beating used as political Viagra to pump up doomed campaigns: “If any question why we died/Tell them, because our fathers lied.” St. Mark’s Cathedral, 1245 Tenth Ave. E., 877-404-2269, choral-arts.org. $18–$25. 8 p.m. Wed., March 14.

• •

Send events to stage@seattleweekly.com, dance@seattleweekly.com, or classical@seattleweekly.com = Recommended

•

Thursday sponsored by Saturday sponsored by

TICKETS FROM $17

206.215.4747

SEATTLESYMPHONY.ORG

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14– 20, 2012

• STANISLAV TRAYKOV

John Muehleisen braids two strands in his new oratorio Pietà, to be premiered Wednesday by Choral Arts. The traditional Biblical narrative of Jesus’ death and Mary’s lamentation, and other liturgical texts, are intercut with scenes from World War I by “war poet” Wilfred Owen and soldier Jack Kipling in letters to his parents, poet Rudyard and his wife Carrie. Seattle composer Muehleisen also finds room in his evening-length meditation on loss for words by William Blake; Martin Luther King Jr.; a traditional Civil War song; the Rev. Anne E. Kitch, who delivered the Homily at Matthew Shepard’s memorial service; and the multitalented Robert Bode, this performance’s conductor. Adapted Bach chorales serve as interludes in the music, scored for three choirs, soprano and tenor soloists, two oboes, and a varied percussion collection. Though no overt parallels are drawn to current wars, the composer does include a timelessly biting couplet by Rudyard Kipling,

Dance

t

HOLY DAYS Sally Nemeth’s Dust Bowl-set drama.

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ps

OPENINGS & EVENTS

MARGARET FRIEDMAN Seattle Repertory Theatre, Seattle Center, 443-2222. $12–$69. Runs Wed.–Sun with some Wed. & weekend matinees; see seattlerep.org for exact schedule. Extended through March 24. THE RISE AND FALL OF LITTLE VOICE SEE REVIEW, PAGE 22. For many more Current Runs, see seattleweekly.com.

Philli

Stage

comic musical concerns romance in our age of Internetenabled TMI. The Triple Door, 216 Union St., 838-4333, ModernLuvSeattle.com. $12–$22. 7:30 p.m. Thurs., March 15, 7:30 & 10:30 p.m. Fri., March 16–Sat., March 17. MOISTURE FESTIVAL The clowns, aerialists, mimes, and musicians are back! Dozens of performances in four venues, March 15–April 8, include Kevin Joyce, Christian Swenson, NYC’s Bindlestiff Family Cirkus, Lily Verlaine, any number of Circus Contraption alumni, and tons more. 800-838-3006, moisturefestival.org. $10–$25. OKLAHOMA! An encore of the 5th’s recent production, with an all-student cast. 5th Avenue Theatre, 1308 Fifth Ave., 625-1900, 5thavenue.org. $19 and up. 8 p.m. Fri., March 16, 2 & 8 p.m. Sat., March 17. PHONE HOMER Michelle Ellsworth’s “technologically savvy and funny dance-theater take” on the Iliad. On the Boards, 100 W. Roy St., 217-9888, ontheboards.org. $25. 8 p.m. Thurs., March 15–Sun., March 18. STUCK In Jessica Hatlo’s new play, a young couple can’t seem to leave their apartment. Washington Ensemble Theatre, 608 19th Ave. E., 325-5105, washingtonensemble. org. Opens March 16. 7:30 p.m. Thurs.–Mon. Ends April 9. VIEW FROM THE TENT Dan Niven’s monologue about life as a homeless man. Center House Theatre, Seattle Center, soundtheatrecompany.org. Donation. 7:30 p.m. Sun., March 18. YOUNG PLAYWRIGHTS FESTIVAL Eight new short works by playwrights age 12–18. ACT Theatre, 700 Union St., 292-7676, acttheatre.org. $5–$10. 7:30 p.m. Thurs., March 15–Fri., March 16, noon & 4 p.m. Sat., March 17.

Morlo

MODERN LUV Mark Siano and Opal Peachey’s new

BY GAVIN BORCHERT

25


BILL PLYMPTON

film»This Week’s Attractions

Adventures in Plymptoons!

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14–20, 2012

RUNS FRI., MARCH 16–THURS., MARCH 22 AT NORTHWEST FILM FORUM. NOT RATED. 85 MINUTES.

26

Considered an infomercial for cult animator Bill Plympton, the documentary Adventures in Plymptoons! suffers from two main defects. First, there aren’t enough examples of his work, which includes the Oscar-nominated 1987 short Your Face and recent features Idiots & Angels and Hair High. Second, the rest of the dull, gushy tributes and biographical ephemera would only be interesting if Plympton illustrated them. Keith Carradine, Terry Gilliam, Al Yankovic, Ron Jeremy (!), and others praise Plympton’s perverse prowess with a pencil (honed at Al Goldstein’s porno mag Screw during the ’70s), but away from his easel he’s merely a pleasant, typical baby boomer. We learn of a bucolic youth in Oregon, his hippie years, his service in the National Guard (to avoid Vietnam), and the expansion of his art via acid (big surprise). Yet no one, including the affable draftsman himself, really addresses the source of his rude, physical, transgressive humor. In an untitled short from one of those Spike & Mike “Sick & Twisted” compilations, we see a date from the perspective inside a woman’s mouth: Here comes the popcorn at a movie, wine, dinner, the probing tongue during a kiss, more wine, and finally the big, veiny dick she swallows at the end of the evening. Yet Adventures censors the image from our delicate eyes. And why? Alexia Anastasio’s doc lauds Plympton’s underground cred (which Disney couldn’t purchase!) and hand-drawn responsibility for every frame in his films, but never lifts his genial mask. Adventures is finally closer to Disney than Crumb. BRIAN MILLER

Carol Channing: Larger Than Life OPENS FRI., MARCH 16 AT SIFF FILM CENTER. RATED PG. 88 MINUTES.

“There was this creature with huge eyes and an enormous red mouth,” recalls Bruce Vilanch on first seeing Carol Channing on

One of Plympton’s typically avid mutts.

TV—an impression shared by anyone whose introduction to the actress was one of her frequent appearances on Hollywood Squares or The Love Boat. Dori Berinstein’s desultory, fawning profile of the nonagenarian performer devotes many of its padded 88 minutes to Channing’s greatest success, playing the title yenta in Hello, Dolly! on Broadway in the 1960s. Providing some scaffolding is the belter’s relationship with Harry Kullijian, whom she wed in 2003, reuniting 70 years after they were middle-school sweethearts in San Francisco. (Kullijian, a charming, dapper former Modesto, Calif., city councilman, died last December.) The remaining scenes consist of standard testimonials: A group of male dancers from the 1994 revival of Hello, Dolly! gush about the time their idol took them to see Interview With the Vampire (and bought them snacks!); Barbara Walters avers, “I never heard anyone say that she was temperamental”; Loni Anderson, with apparently no connection to Channing, attests, “The whole blonde thing was just fascinating to me.” Frail but still voluble, the sandpaper-voiced ham is ever grateful for attention; at a dinky book fair, she tells one fan, who gives her a photo of him in Channing drag, “That’s an honor that you got all dressed up like me.” MELISSA ANDERSON

Casa de Mi Padre OPENS FRI., MARCH 16 AT PACIFIC PLACE AND OTHER THEATERS. RATED R. 102 MINUTES.

Rogue comic Will Ferrell recently turned up in an Old Milwaukee commercial exclusively for the Davenport, Iowa, local market; the obvious next career move, then, is Casa de Mi Padre, a modern-day tortilla Western/telenovela spoof entirely in Spanish. Squinting into the middle distance with “the eyes of a small chicken” and expressively mangling hand-rolled cigarettes, Ferrell plays Armando Alvarez, the dull-


film»This Week’s Attractions witted son of a widowed rancher (Pedro Armendáriz Jr.) whose preferred heir, brother Raul (Diego Luna), has turned to drug trafficking, sparking a violent turf war with rival dealer Onza (Gael García Bernal). There has always been a flamboyant, sartorial element to Ferrell’s comedy, and it’s clear that he and director Matt Piedmont, a former SNL writer, love the melodrama they’re parodying—the protracted death scenes and abrupt musical numbers, the streaming golden light, the Catholic-Mayan iconography, the bloodsplattered white roses. Casa de Mi Padre riffs freely on impoverished production values— phony painted backdrops and the reflection of the camera crew in a DEA agent’s sunglasses—but the humor doesn’t target only south of the border. Like any good genre product, Casa also smuggles in rude social criticism, as when Armando memorably describes drug-addicted Americans as “shiteating crazy monster babies.” NICK PINKERTON

P The Forgiveness of Blood

RUNS FRI., MARCH 16–THURS., MARCH 22 AT VARSITY. NOT RATED. 109 MINUTES.

The FP OPENS FRI., MARCH 16 AT SIFF FILM CENTER. RATED R. 83 MINUTES.

Infinitely better as a beer-goggled pitch than as a feature film, The FP never gets beyond the studied novelty of its own pose. The Trost brothers’ low-rent passion project is a postmodern amalgam of ’80s vigilante thrillers, Hollywood teen turf-war pics, sportsunderdog flicks, and the teeny-bop arcade game Dance Dance Revolution. Jason Trost

Jeff, Who Lives at Home OPENS FRI., MARCH 16 AT GUILD 45 AND OTHER THEATERS. RATED PG. 83 MINUTES.

It’s obvious that Jason Segel has a face for comedy. He’s got a lumpy, sad-sack mug with a dozen inflections to register disappointment, confusion, and self-doubt. But as the basement-dwelling hero of Jay and Mark Duplass’ new quest movie, Segel works his entire posture for laughs. He slumps expressively on the couch, doing bong rips and ignoring chore requests from his exasperated mother (Susan Sarandon). He cringes meekly when being scolded by his asshole older brother (Ed Helms), who at least has a job and wife (Judy Greer). And yet Segel has more range than simply being a six-foot-four schlemiel. Jeff, Who Lives at Home is a surprisingly mutable, ultimately poignant day-in-the-life drama about a slacker who genuinely wants to stand tall. “All this randomness is leading somewhere,” says Jeff hopefully. As in their prior The Puffy Chair and Cyrus, the Duplass brothers are interested in demi-adults in the process of discovering, however belatedly, who they are. Accordingly, there are some weird emotional shifts in tone in Jeff, a karma caper that alternates between Jeff’s increasingly meandering errand and his widowed mother’s confusion over a secret admirer at work. Yet throughout his bungling (and his brother’s gradual awakening), Jeff has a shambling, stubborn decency, a trace of Lebowski. And when all the characters and coincidences ultimately converge, it oughtn’t be surprising that the Duplass brothers hand out multiple merit badges—but at least they feel earned. Jeff is not a major film, but it’s an endearing adventure in hope nonetheless. BRIAN MILLER film@seattleweekly.com

MORE ONLINE » SEATTLEWEEKLY.COM

a

See reviews of Being Flynn, Delicacy, People v. the State of Illusion, 21 Jump Street.

TICKETS AVAILABLE AT WWW.CINERAMA.COM

Opening March 23

Midnight Premiere March 22nd (12:01am 3/23)

Fri 3/23 through Thurs 3/29 12:00 • 3:30 Logos 7:00 • 10:30 SEATTLE’S WIDEST SCREEN SUPERIOR TECHNOLOGY Fresh Chocolate Popcorn, Cupcake Royale, Theo Choc & so much more

2100 4TH AVENUE, SEATTLE WA • (206) 448-6680

Now Showing

through Thurs 3/22 12:30 • 3:45 • 7:00 • 10:15 with white border—used on dark backgrounds

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14– 20, 2012

Director Joshua Marston demonstrated his ability to sustain almost unbearable dramatic tension in his debut feature film, Maria Full of Grace. His sophomore effort, The Forgiveness of Blood, illustrates an impressive deepening of that skill. Working from a script co-written by Andamion Murataj and with a cast of nonprofessional actors who do extraordinary work, Marston tells the Hatfield and McCoy–like story of two sparring Albanian families whose conflicts lead to a death in one clan shortly after the movie begins. The fallout from that bloodshed is the film’s razor-sharp focus. This ranges from the religion-infused cultural dictate that the killer’s family submit to housebound isolation (lest that family’s males be fair game for revenge) to the flouting of socially prescribed gender rules that would bar the teen daughter of the killer from taking over the family business after her father goes into hiding. Some of the film’s most nerveracking moments revolve around Nik (Tristan Halilaj), the teenage son of the killer, who in the midst of a fledgling high-school romance broods and chafes against being tied to his house. His adolescent narcissism leads him not only to take foolish risks, but also to possibly commit an act of unforgivable betrayal. Marston nails the claustrophobia of small-town life and the turbulent emotionalism of teenagers, but what pushes the film toward sublimity is the way he delicately captures all the characters’ inner lives as their world slowly crumbles. ERNEST HARDY

stars as JTRO, a noble loner with a blond rocker bouffant and Kurt Russell eye patch who seeks revenge and redemption after his brother is slain during a “Beat-Beat Revelation” duel with thuggish, goldtoothed L Dubba E (Lee Valmassy). JTRO heroically dances to save the besieged town of FP (short for Frazier Park, Calif.), win the girl, and justify the knee-high moon boots he wears into battle. As the proud spawn of B-movie special-effects pro Ron Trost (Mortal Kombat), the directors put lots of love and nerdy exactitude into the fine grain of The FP, from hot fonts and an Atariworthy soundtrack to a training montage (with a gnomic, soul-patched surrogate for Mr. Miyagi) and a fastidiously concocted slang comprising hip-hop, Valley girl, and Jean-Claude Van Damme. But with only style and referents up its sleeve, the film’s charm fades fast. The problem with paying such dogged homage to shitty movies is that integrity is best achieved by producing a shitty movie in turn. Mission accomplished, for whatever that’s worth. ERIC HYNES

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Events

MARCH 17

A SERIES OF NEW FRENCH FILMS PLAYING NATIONWIDE FOR THE FIRST TIME

RENDEZ-VOUS NEAR YOU

17 GIRLS

MARCH 16 @ 9:30PM MARCH 18 @ 8:00PM

MOON CHILD

MARCH 17 @ 7:30PM

PATER

MARCH 17 @ 5:15PM

ST. PATRICK’S DAY DASH WHERE:

SEATTLE CENTER

THE SCREEN ILLUSION

MARCH 16 @ 7:00PM

THE LAST SCREENING SMUGGLERS’ SONGS THE WELL-DIGGER’S MARCH 17 @ 3:00PM MARCH 17 @ 10:15PM DAUGHTER MARCH 18 @ 5:30PM

Free Stuff WIN HOP ON BLU-RAY & DVD

STARTS FRIDAY, MARCH 16TH

SIFF CINEMA AT THE UPTOWN 511 QUEEN ANNE AVE. N. (206) 324-9996 SEATTLE

WWW.RENDEZVOUSWITHFRENCHCINEMA.COM

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14–20, 2012

Seattle Weekly Wednesday, 3/14 2col(4.83)x5.25 SUB

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film» Escher booths just off the midway. Connelly must also endure the amorous attentions (and songs) of Bowie— and, yes, there’s some sexual subtext as Connelly nears womanhood. Another enduring oddity of the film: Though Connelly now looks quite different, Bowie seems eerily unchanged. Because goblin kings never age. You decide whether the same holds true for the film, which screens at midnight. (PG) BRIAN MILLER Egyptian, $8.25, Fri., March 16; Sat., March 17.

BY BRIAN MILLER

Local Film PORT OF CALL - NEW • BAD LIEUTENANT: First things first: Nobody cares about the ORLEANS

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Send events to film@seattleweekly.com See seattleweekly.com for full listings = Recommended

•

LANGSTON HUGHES AFRICAN AMERICAN FILM FESTIVAL Relocating back to its titular and

renovated hall, this nine-day fest includes features, docs, and a variety of short-film packages. See langstonblackfilmfest.org for full schedule and details. (NR) Langston Hughes Performing Arts Center, 104 17th Ave. S., $5-$8 (individual), $50 (pass), March 14-22. RENDEZ-VOUS WITH FRENCH CINEMA See siff.net for full schedule and details for this weekend fest. Included are a restored version of the classic 1945 stage melodrama Children of Paradise plus new works like Alain Cavalier’s Pater, Mathieu Amalric’s The Screen Illusion, and Daniel Auteuil’s The Well-Digger’s Daughter. (NR) SIFF Cinema at the Uptown, $5-$10, March 16-18. RURAL ROUTE FILM FESTIVAL This traveling fest emphasizes the flyover states and non-urban themes. Subjects include a crowd-sourced remake of Footloose, urban farmers, folk music, and even the tourism industry in the Baltistan region of Pakistan. See ruralroutefilm. com for more info. See grandillusioncinema.org for exact schedule. (NR) Grand Illusion, $5-$8, March 16-22. SCI-FI SATURDAY SECRET MATINEES The Sprocket Society presents surprise features following episodes from 1939’s Buck Rogers serial, starring Buster Crabbe. (NR) Grand Illusion, $15-56 (series), Saturdays, 2 p.m. Through March 24. SEATTLE JEWISH FILM FESTIVAL SEE THE WIRE, PAGE 19. THREE TIMES Indeed, you could call this 2005 romance Hou Hsiao-hsien for Dummies. Set in three different periods, this triptych about love, time, and fate encapsulates the moods and preoccupations that have inspired him throughout his career. In each chapter, Chang Chen (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon) and Shu Qi (The Transporter) portray three different couples, each pair with a unique dynamic reflecting the era. Through repetitions and variations, Hou again explores how the shifting times may ripple the surface of life, but not our deeper need for bonding. Each of the three stories is a mini masterpiece in its own right, as we see innocence, doom, and desperation played out. Each segment has its own rhythm and visual vocabulary: Slow-motion for 1966, fades for 1911, and tracking shots for 2005. For those who’ve previously complained about Hou being too slow and austere, the bite-size structure helps make Three Times more digestible. It may also send viewers to their DVD players with new insight regarding Hou’s back catalog. (NR) MARTIN TSAI Frye Art Museum, Free, Sun., March 18, 2 p.m. THE WILD ONE Directed by Laslo Benedek (and produced by Stanley Kramer), this 1953 melodrama helped make Marlon Brando a star, playing the quintessential “Whaddya got?” rebel of the ‘50s. His disaffected motorcycle gang member Johnny Strabler is all sex and menace, a slouching rebuke to white-picket-fence probity. He’s the anti-Ike. The script takes many liberties with the underlying true story, considerably sensationalized, about a motorcycle gang that overwhelmed a small California town. Significantly, some of those riders were WWII vets, which recalls Brando’s prior turn for Kramer in The Men. Look for Lee Marvin as a fellow biker, a considerably more ominous figure than Brando. Call for showtimes. (NR) Central Cinema, $6, March 16-18.

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206.324.9996 | www.siff.net

PLAYING MARCH 16–22

A film for PINA BAUSCH by WIM WENDERS

in 3D

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“A unique and often sublime artistic experience!” —Seattle Times 511 Queen Anne Avenue North

THEATERS: Admiral, 2343 California Ave. SW, 938-3456;

Big Picture, 2505 First Ave., 256-0566; Big Picture Redmond, 7411 166th Ave. NE, 425-556-0566; Central Cinema, 1411 21st Ave., 686-6684; Cinebarre, 6009 SW 244th St. (Mountlake Terrace)., 425-672-7501; Cinerama, 2100 Fourth Ave., 448-6680; Crest, 16505 Fifth Ave. NE, 781-5755; Egyptian, 801 E. Pine St., 781-5755; Grand Illusion, 1403 NE 50th St., 523-3935; Guild 45, 2115 N. 45th St., 781-5755; Harvard Exit, 807 E. Roy St., 781-5755; iPic Theaters, 16451 N.E. 74th St. (Redmond), 425-6365601; Kirkland Parkplace, 404 Park Place, 425-827-9000; Lincoln Square, 700 Bellevue Way N, 425-454-7400; Majestic Bay, 2044 NW Market St., 781-2229; Meridian, 1501 Seventh Ave., 223-9600; Metro, 4500 Ninth Ave. NE, 781-5755; Northwest Film Forum, 1515 12th Ave., 2675380; Oak Tree, 10006 Aurora Ave. N, 527-1748; Pacific Place, 600 Pine St., 888-262-4386; Seven Gables, 911 NE 50th St., 781-5755; SIFF Cinema at the Uptown, 511 Queen Anne Ave. N., 324-9996; SIFF Film Center, 305 Harrison St. (Seattle Center), 324-9996.; Thornton Place, 301 NE 103rd St., 517-9953; Varsity, 4329 University Way NE, 781-5755.

8 films direct from the festival in NYC – including filmmaker Q&As! The newest feature from Studio Ghibli

The Secret World of Arrietty Chow Yun-Fat:

Let the Bullets Fly

Films4Families: All seats only $4.00 The NeverEnding Story Sat & Sun 12:00 Seattle Center Northwest Rooms

Carol Channing: Larger Than Life

“A terrifically entertaining trip down memory lane with one of the American stage’s most legendary troupers.”—LA Times

The FP “Loud, furious & recklessly funny!”—Indiewire Sampson & Delilah Mon 6:30 Back to the ’80s! Stand By Me Tues 7:00

san francisco opera

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14– 20, 2012

1992 Bad Lieutenant, no masterpiece, which provides barely a premise for Werner Herzog’s unexpectedly enjoyable, amoral 2009 comedy. Policeman Nicolas Cage hurts his back rescuing a prisoner during Hurricane Katrina; he’s promoted to lieutenant for his valor, but also becomes addicted to pain pills, crack, and the predatory thrill of stealing drugs from anyone he threatens to arrest. Throw in some parking-lot sex at gunpoint, so much the better. His girlfriend (Eva Mendes) is a prostitute; he owes thousands to his bookie (Brad Dourif); why get hung up on right and wrong? Herzog certainly isn’t. He rarely frames the camera wide on post-Katrina wreckage, but unexpectedly swoops up to show how a dying alligator, its guts exploded on the highway, has caused a serious wreck. The iguanas that Cage hallucinates and a final backdrop of sharks also provide spiritual links back to Grizzly Man, whose bears kill because it’s their nature, and nature is “chaos, hostility, and murder,” as Herzog then put it. (R) BRIAN MILLER Grand Illusion, $5-$8, Fri., March 16, 8:45 p.m.; March 17-18, 4:45 & 8:45 p.m.; March 19-22, 8:45 p.m. BATTLE ROYALE Veteran director Kinji Fukasaku is kind of like the Japanese Sam Peckinpah, only here we have ninth graders, not cowboys, battling to the death in 2000’s Battle Royale. The nutty premise that has these sweet-faced, uniformed schoolkids confined to an island until one survivor’s alive naturally recalls Lord of the Flies, but entertainment isn’t the point to this carnageridden spectacular. There are no cameras to relay the allegiances, betrayals, and gore to an imaginary viewing audience; instead, the blood sport is meant as a cautionary, punitive example against disobedient youngsters. On hand as a gruff teacher is Takeshi Kitano, who jeers, “So today’s lesson is—you kill each other off!” (R) BRIAN MILLER Northwest Film Forum, $6-$10, Fridays, 11 p.m. Through March 30. THE DEVIL’S CLEAVAGE George Kuchar’s 1973 underground movie is a pastiche of everything dreadful/ wonderful about Hollywood detritus. It’s camp, but sincere, representing everything beloved by the gay identical twins George and Mike Kuchar, who collaborated on most of their projects. Shot on Super-8 and later 16 mm film, their movies are amateurish crossgenre tributes to Westerns, melodramas, and sci-fi pictures all at the same time. They were the outerborough, downmarket alternative to Warhol in the ’60s. The Devil’s Cleavage is preceded by the equally zany 1966 short Hold Me While I’m Naked. (NR) Northwest Film Forum, $6-$10, Tue., March 20, 7 p.m. JULES AND JIM A rocking chair has a rhythm of its own; so does Jules and Jim. Now 50 years old, François Truffaut’s whirling dervish remains an ageless beauty. The film appears to us as like a specter, with a sensibility about cinematic language and sexual relations rarely seen today. A better title for this benchmark of the French New Wave might have been Breathless—an apt descriptor for the film’s lyrical visual flair and whirlpool of emotions. Too bad it was already taken. Truffaut’s camera not only stands with Jules (Oskar Werner) and Jim (Henri Serre), it moves with them, searching for the pair when they are lost, and opening and closing its frame as they run into and retreat from the world, even freezing it when they are smitten by the rapture their great Catherine (Jeanne Moreau) rouses in them. (NR) ED GONZALEZ Seattle Art Museum, 1300 First Ave., 6543100, seattleartmuseum.org, $8, Thu., March 15, 7:30 p.m. LABYRINTH Before she was an Oscar winner and sex symbol for the Hubert Selby Jr. set, Jennifer Connelly was a 16-year-old ingénue starring opposite Kabukistyle, feathered-hair-metal goblin king David Bowie in Muppet master Jim Henson’s 1986 one-of-a-kind fantasy flick. (Not to be confused with the 1985 Legend, starring Tom Cruise opposite Tim Curry wearing horns as the devil! Know your ’80s fantasy movies, people! Bowie, not Curry. Goblin, no horns. Teenage pre-hottie, not cackling pre-Scientology dwarf.) Anyway, this film is a loony artifact from the pre-CG era when the rights to Lord of the Rings were apparently still tied up. It’s a fairy-tale take on pubescence, as reluctant babysitter Connelly rashly wishes her wee crying brother would be taken by goblins—which naturally occurs. To retrieve the infant requires various tests and transformations in a journey through a Brothers Grimm carnival, with Sendak and

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Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14–20, 2012

ADD A DESSERT FOR JUST $3

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food&drink»

Say No to Drugs

Capitol Hill’s newest steakhouse would do well to hire a Boy Scout in the kitchen.

No matter how it’s decorated, a steakhouse really needs to know how to bake a potato.

M

anhattan Drugs, which borrowed its name from a half-century-old Normandy Park pharmacy that promised “big-city selection and small-town service” until its 2009 closure, has the opulentbrothel look of an urban steakhouse. Like a Metropolitan Grill for the biodiesel generation, the restaurant is furnished with hulking wooden booths, upholstered leather chairs, and light fixtures fashioned from pipes. The vintage back bar and a server sideboard were salvaged from a drug store, but the room’s most striking elements are brandnew, including the slick white tables and bar top and the wallpaper, red as papal slippers, imprinted with a gold pattern based on the gun-toting white ram. More than 600 blackand-white photographs of butcher shops and tenements cycle on a pair of projection screens opposite the bar. The restaurant appears to be popular with Capitol Hill residents who need somewhere to take their parents, although cross-generational communing is complicated by the soundtrack’s volume. “The music is louder,” St. John says, explaining why “we’re not getting the classic steakhouse crowd you would expect to see.” If steakhouse vets visited Manhattan Drugs, they’d find a very familiar menu. Although St. John says “doing the sea bass was definitely edgy,” most of the dishes aren’t getting anywhere near that edge. In addition to the fish and four prime Nebraska steaks,

the restaurant serves trout, chicken, pork Manhattan Drugs is ill-prepared tenderloin, and a wild-mushroom risotto to deliver a properly baked potato. which might satisfy vegetarians if it didn’t have shrimp in it. To start, there’s shrimp cocktail, crab cakes, beef carpaccio, steak a tendency to disintegrate into flaxen bites, and beef sliders, intended perhaps for confetti, there’s plenty of it. cocktail drinkers who come to gape at the The cornbread is supposed to be served decor and end up feeling carnivorous. with a jalapeño butter, but our server didn’t The restaurant also makes its own popcorn provide it. At Manhattan Drugs, servers are shrimp, although it’s not clear why. The apparently sworn isolationists, never interferbatter on the shrimp is correctly crisped, if a ing to ask if anything’s needed or apologize tad greasy, but the shrimp are watery plugs for kitchen errors. They’re also very slow. of nothingness. An accompanying waxy So how’s the steak? The filet’s lifeless, but honey-mustard dressing that really should be the strip and rib-eye are threaded with fat, in a relationship with a different appetizer and both were cooked as requested. I only doesn’t help much. wish chef Khampaeng Panyathong, a veteran At Manhattan Drugs, crab cakes aren’t as of Spring Hill (now Ma’Ono), didn’t encrust complex as the term typically implies: The the meat with so much salty seasoning, which kumquat-sized pucks of Dungeness crab overwhelms the already partially muted meat are mostly uninterrupted by breadbeefiness of the corn-fed steaks. Sadly, the crumbs, onions, or seasoning. “There’s a lot of steaks just don’t have the verve to keep up crab in each cake,” St. John with some of the big reds on confirms. Unfortunately, the restaurant’s admirably the croquette’s bound up in Washington-heavy wine list. » PRICE GUIDE POPCORN SHRIMP ..........$10 a tourniquet of greasy fry, Even when the steaks are FRENCH ONION SOUP......$7 although the blood-orange properly grilled, side dishes WEDGE SALAD ................... $8 NEW YORK STRIP ........... $38 segment pinned to each cake are a distraction: Asparagus FILET.................................... $45 is a pretty touch. is saturated with artificialRIB-EYE ............................... $35 The standardized soup tasting liquid smoke, and and salad selections include mashed potatoes are unapa bland Caesar; a wedge salad crowned pealingly drippy, like an Irish congee. And with two strips of tasty candied bacon and then there’s that godforsaken baked potato. blasted with way too much dressing; and No matter how it’s decorated, a steakhouse French onion soup, showcasing a fat wholereally needs to know how to bake a potato. E wheat crouton topped with unevenly melted hraskin@seattleweekly.com cheese. Customers foregoing a first course will surely appreciate Manhattan Drugs’ MANHATTAN DRUGS bread generosity: The restaurant recently 1419 12th Ave., 325-6574, rescinded its airy yeast rolls (probably a manhattan-drugs.pterodactylgroup.com. wise idea) and now serves a sugary corn5–11 p.m. Mon.–Fri.; bread in a cast-iron pan. While the bread has 10 a.m.–3 p.m. & 5–11 p.m. Sat.–Sun.

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14– 20, 2012

The Boy Scout–endorsed method of rendering a meal from a raw tater involves washing, drying, and burying the potato in a deep bed of coals. After 40 minutes—which an enterprising Scout might spend rescuing people from burning buildings or weaving a mattress on his loom—supper’s served. Any grubby 12-year-old can do it. If there were an official handbook for steakhouses, the baked potato would probably have a prominent place in it too. And there’s no way Manhattan Drugs would be earning its badge. The new Capitol Hill restaurant—the one with the high prices and the mounted ram’s head sporting a pair of shiny M16 rifles on the ends of its twisty horns—seems content to woo customers with novelty and let its basic duties slide. Like many of the dishes at Manhattan Drugs, the debacle presented as a baked potato is too conceptually conservative to pass as a gutsy riff on steakhouse traditions and too inept to count as a competitor to the analogues served at established beef palaces down the hill. To make its baked potato, Manhattan Drugs hollows out a potato and blends its innards with a modicum of butter, sour cream, and chives. The resulting nubbins are then returned to the hard-baked shell, like parched pebbles in a dry creek bed. Both times I tried the flavorless potato, it was served at what might be considered room temperature if a large man was controlling the thermostat. When I first asked about the preparation, my server told me the kitchen hadn’t been able to figure out how to bake potatoes all the

way through without first disassembling them. I later learned from general manager Corey St. John—who co-owns the restaurant with Laura Olson, the force behind Po Dog and the forthcoming Queen of Norway— that Manhattan Drugs had other reasons for adopting its split-andfill method. “We can totally do a whole baked potato,” he said. “We switched because the whole potato was rolling around the plate. And we didn’t want to do a potato in foil.” Still, the server’s presumption of incompetence was telling. The kitchen consistently makes elementary mistakes that would provoke sighs and shrugs if the centerpiece steaks cost $20. With most of Manhattan Drugs’ steaks selling for nearly twice that, it’s probably best the knives are cleared before the checks arrive.

JOSHUA HUSTON

T

he very first edition of the Boy Scout Handbook, issued in 1911, spelled out all the skills needed to “be prepared.” It advised that a boy who meant to distinguish himself in scouting should be able to construct makeshift rafts and bridges, identify trees by their bark, and subdue runaway horses. A Scout is charged with averting dangers trifling and tragic, the guide explained, so he ought to be equally capable of removing a stray banana peel from the sidewalk and resuscitating the victim of a poison-gas attack. And, finally, the boy needs to know how to bake a potato.

BY HANNA RASKIN

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food&drink»Featured Eats

Urban Tiki House & Taiwanese Cantina

BottomFeeder

» by mike seely

Early & Late Night Happy Hour

A Smoky Room

Sun – Thurs 4pm to 6pm & 10pm to Midnight

Ballard is in the midst of a barbecue boom, and the local chain RoRo is in on the action, having taken over the landmark Zesto’s space early last week. But it’s in Georgetown where RoRo feels most like itself.

Weekly Specials Include Mon: Industry Night Tues: Tiki Tuesday

Give us a tiki mug & we’ll fill it up!

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B I ST R O

fivefishbistro.com Trivia Night Every Thursday @ 8pm

New Late Night Happy Hour 11pm - 1am

Happy Hour

4pm to 7pm Daily $3 Pints & $5 Appetizers

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• IN THE HEART OF FREMONT

the Ould Triangle Live Music! 2:30pm - Close

B’yond the Pail | Raybone Experience food! friends! fun! JOINT COVER with

Molly Maguires

on St. Patrick’s Day Open Noon - 2am March 17th $5 Cover $8 after 5pm 9736 GREENWOOD AVE N. • 206-706-7798 • SEATTLEIRISHPUBS.COM

A pulled-pork touchdown, spiked with links.

Housed in a simple two-story white building that previously contained a popular vegan restaurant, Squid & Ink, the Georgetown RoRo is close enough to Boeing Field for small planes to land on its flat roof should they time their descent a bit too

FirstCall

» by laura onstot

Julius Sees Her

The Watering Hole: Cooper’s Ale House, 8065 Lake City Way N.E., 522-2923, MAPLE LEAF The Atmosphere: The purple-topped pool table and large televisions suggest that, on Husky game days, Cooper’s draws quite a crowd. On a random Tuesday evening, however, it’s a quiet neighborhood watering hole. But you don’t need to be a neighborhood native to feel welcome. A woman ahead of me at the bar offers to let me order a drink first. I gratefully assure her I’m still deciding. Beer is clearly the drink of choice at Cooper’s. A line of 22 taps sits in front of the liquor, and a menu boasts still more unusual bottles. A hoppy IPA fan and a sweet-barley-wine drinker will both find something to wet their whistles with when bellied up to Cooper’s bar. The Barkeep: Nick doesn’t say much as he pulls pints. Asked for his last name, he politely replies, “I’m not real big on that.” He clearly knows the beer list in and out, though. Upon hearing the First Call challenge, he says, “I wish the girl was here. She’s really good at this kind of stuff.” The Drink: Despite his reservations about doing anything in the spotlight, Nick gamely reaches for orange juice and whipped cream. He shakes them up with a splash of soda and a long vodka pour.

mseely@seattleweekly.com RORO BBQ 1128 S. Albro Place, 767-2660, GEORGETOWN

“It’s sort of like an Orange Julius,” he explains. “It reminds me of going to the mall in high school.” The Verdict: I order a plate of Tom Shanks— think pork wings—to nosh while sipping Nick’s concoction. I’m almost immediately transported back to when I could drink things with heavy cream and eat pork dipped in sauces without

LAURA ONSTOT

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14–20, 2012

206-547-1417 • 460 N 36TH ST

COZELL WILSON

LATE NIGHT CHOW EVERYDAY 1024 E Pike St ~ 206-860-4238 www.chinosseattle.com

early. A couple hours before RoRo opens at 10:30, a young lady in an old pickup cuts across RoRo’s parking lot, smoking a cigarette and blasting Journey with the window rolled down in cold weather. In her tailpipe’s wake, a bikini-clad barista serves hot, foamy drinks to bone rangers intent on gathering material for a mid-morn wank in the office can, while Seattle’s most peculiarly located nursery, Julius Rosso’s, sets to watering the day’s first buds on the airstrip’s north pole. By noon RoRo is slammed, with a lone two-top to be had. While strictly a lunch establishment, the term “tavern” is proudly included on RoRo’s sign, and a full array of Georgetown beers are poured at the counter. Iced tea is served in Mason jars, and pulled-pork sandwiches can be spiked with hot links for patrons looking to bury the memory of RoRo’s meatless predecessor through sheer carnivorous consumption. Thursday’s special is an open-faced turkey sandwich, lean as can be, served alongside mashed potatoes and topped with zesty gravy. While its skin lacks the blackened char that some aficionados prefer, RoRo’s chicken thighs are satisfyingly juicy. Accompanied by a refreshing cup of succotash and soupy mac ’n’ cheese, it’s the rare barbecued lunch that won’t make you wish on-the-clock napping were a more acceptable practice in the American workplace. E

Nick would have made high school much better.

my waistline expanding. And high school would have been a lot better if I’d spent it sipping Nick’s version of the Orange Julius. E food@seattleweekly.com


food&drink»Featured Eats $ = $25 or less per person; $$ = $25–$40; $$$ = $40 and up. These capsule reviews are written by editorial staff and have nothing to do with advertising. For hundreds more reviews, searchable by neighborhood and type of cuisine, go to seattleweekly.com/food.

DOWNTOWN

BAYOU ON FIRST 1523 First Ave., 624-2598. There’s

zydeco on the sound system, and the red beans and rice with chicken sausage will heat up a mild-mannered mouth or two, but Bayou on First’s service is a bit oddly paced. Focus not on your waiter but on the ample menu, a who’s who of Cajun classics like crawfish étouffée, gumbo, jambalaya (seafood or vegetarian), T H I S CO D E and muffaletta sandwiches. TO DOWNLOAD THE FREE Bayou’s humble dishes SEATTLE WEEKLY have a homemade wholeIPHONE/ANDROID APP someness. $ FOR MORE RESTAURANTS OR VISIT BELLE EPICUREAN 1206 seattleweekly.com Fourth Ave., 262-9404. Belle Epicurean not only has a très bien cafe in the Fairmont Hotel, it also sells pastries at a farmers market near you. Belle’s variously dressed brioche buns are the signature items; a bevy of sweet and savory pastries are made with the same extra-rich dough. Sandwiches and salads are served up for lunch, and more than 10 exactingly beautiful desserts wink at you from the case. $

SCAN

ALittLeRAskin » by hanna raskin

Cutting the Cheese

BARRIGA LLENA 7815 Aurora Ave. N., 782-1220. As

colorful as a box of Fruit Loops, tiny Barriga Llena (translation: full stomach) serves up big honkin’ tortas, Mexico City style. The cooks stuff grilled soft rolls with all manner of meats, from ham to grilled steak with pineapples and Oaxacan string cheese (the “Jarocha,” not recommended). All come with lettuce, tomato, avocado, and sides of pickled chiles and salsa. The restaurant’s acme, which would daunt even the most ravenous stoners, is the Barrigona, with breaded steak, chorizo, sausage, pork, and cheese. $ BETH’S CAFE 7311 Aurora Ave. N., 782-5588. The archetypal greasy spoon—a Peter Pan restaurant that opened in 1954 and never grew up. If you’ve got some generational history in the area, your grandmother probably behaved badly at Beth’s back in her day— tooled up on corn mash, running with a rough crowd, climbing on the tables and showing bikers her lady business. It survived a fire 10 years ago. Every night is like a riot on the floor. Nothing will ever kill Beth’s, even though the menu (full of 12-egg omelets, huge plates of hash browns and pancakes the size of placemats) seems, in certain places, custom-made to kill you. $ EVA RESTAURANT AND WINE BAR 2227 N. 56th St., 633-3538. Eva specializes in the kind of food that a really good chef might make at home. Rabbit appears pretty regularly, as do seasonal salads that come to the table like little baroque sculptures. The restaurant’s two dining areas support this idea by offering living room vs. family room seating—one room with white tablecloths and candlelight, the other with big wooden tables and a bar. If there’s a custard on hand (blue-cheese flan, chorizo bread pudding), go for it. Complementing the food is James Hondros’ eclectic wine list, chosen for the wines’ food-friendliness. $$

But LaVigne thinks the government should focus its Listeria-fighting efforts on cheese producers, not cheese sellers. “It’s so retarded because it’s a case of the FDA again addressing potential hazards at the retail level, which is the last level,” she says. “They’re saying ‘It would be impossible to police the cheesemakers, but we can police you.’ It’s a case of not dealing with the issue at hand.” She wishes cheesemakers would be forced to adopt more rigorous testing protocol. “I know one cheesemaker in Idaho who tests his milk three times,” LaVigne says. “He said doing three rounds costs $1.40 a pound, which is totally absorbable for a small retail market.” What a small retailer can’t abide, she adds, is throwing out pounds of good merchandise every week. While a test for Listeria exists, it’s expensive and unwieldy when applied to cheese. Testing cheeses which have reached their sell-by dates is “not feasible,” Graham says, which is why the new rule presumes a Listeria threat. LaVigne thinks the rule should distinguish between groceries, where meats and cheeses are likely to commingle on cutting boards, and cheese shops with dedicated cheese-cutting areas. “Some stuff, like Seastack, can be sold as a whole, but the large, gooey French cheeses, you have to cut into them,” LaVigne says. The Department of Health is scheduled to hold a public hearing in June, and it’s likely many cheese retailers will be there to fight the measure. “This would severely screw anyone who’s a cut-to-order retailer,” says LaVigne. E hraskin@seattleweekly.com

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Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14– 20, 2012

Washington cheese retailers are protesting a proposed change to state law which would require them to trash cut-into soft cheeses after seven days. The state periodically revises its food code to bring it in line with scientific knowledge and federal standards. Many of the drafted revisions now being reviewed are seemingly innocuous: If the revisions are approved, raw oysters and undercooked meat will no longer be allowed on children’s menus, and sellers of foraged mushrooms will have to provide documentation that their product isn’t toxic. But the date-marking clauses have spawned a noisy clamor in the state’s cheese community. “Everybody is definitely very nervous about it,” says Sheri LaVigne of The Calf and Kid. The new rule doesn’t apply only to cheese: Deli meats, pans of lasagna, and many other foods requiring refrigeration would all have to be tossed a week after being opened, cut, sliced, or repackaged. According to Joe Graham, the Department of Health’s food-safety program technical lead, about two-thirds of states have adopted similar measures. “Oregon has had it for maybe 10 years, and they’ve just gotten adjusted to it,” Graham says. Date-marking is intended to combat Listeria monocytogenes, a bacteria that annually infects about 800 Americans. Listeria is especially hazardous to infants, pregnant women, and the elderly, and kills one of out of every three people treated for the disease. Limiting a food’s shelf life reduces the risk of Listeria growth, Graham says.

GREENWOOD & PHINNEY RIDGE

FRESH FRESH!

ALASKA TROLL KING SALMON

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Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14–20, 2012


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»PROFILE

Family Stepping Stone

Two of the city’s hippest funk institutions would rather hit an off note than play the same thing twice. BY TODD HAMM

T

Lynne Arriale Trio

Jazz piano trio combining intelligence and technical ability with a welcoming sensibility March 14 Monty Alexander: Uplift featuring Robert Thomas, Jr. & Hassan Shakur with Opener – Marta Topferova Genre-Bending Piano Trio with World-Renowned Freestyle Percussionist March 15 – 18

Eighth Annual Seattle-Kobe Female Jazz Vocalist Audition

JOSHUA HUSTON

March 19

Although Afrocop has an album’s worth of songs recorded and nearly ready for release, not a note they play live has been rehearsed. Island and the wood milled from a 300-yearold, 42-foot beam that was part of an old Ballard warehouse, are part of the bar’s allure. “The real product of The Stepping Stone is the experience,” says Becker, who handled most of the woodworking himself, “which combines music, the elements of Northwest wood and stone, the lighting, and that cozy feeling like you just came home.”

Chuck Loeb presents ‘Plain n’ Simple Live’

Thanks to bands like Afrocop and the two professional-grade record players behind the bar, music is also an indispensable part of the mixture. “That endearing thing, when you walk in and the record is spinning, you can see that’s a true amplification of a groove, it’s pretty amazing,” says Becker. “The whole bar’s analog.” As the designated house band, Afrocop holds a spot at the back of the bar many Saturday nights—although, like their style, their schedule is mainly improvised. Over the past two and a half years, the group has grown from accenting to defining the tavern’s freakishly organic ’60s feel.

I

t’s no surprise that this funk outfit jives so well with the bar. After all, the band formed within its walls. Bandleader Noel Brass, Jr. caught a train to Seattle from his native Chicago three years ago with little more than his keyboard. He had been in town only a few days when, hearing music on the sidewalk outside The Stepping Stone, he followed it in and struck up a conversation with Becker. Over the next few months the two grew close, and Becker asked Brass to play a regular night with whatever band he could pull together. Brass happily obliged. Describing his early tactics for picking bandmates, Brass says he was “a headhunter like Miles [Davis], looking for the best players. I wanted to play with the best.” Though the lineup (drums and bass) has turned over once since its inception—it now includes drummer Andy Sells and bassist Carlos Tulloss—the sound is now better than ever.

Afrocop’s Noel Brass, Jr. is funky, not perfect.

Afrocop’s entirely improvisational style may catch more casual patrons off guard, however; although they have an album’s worth of songs recorded and nearly ready for release, not a note they play live has been rehearsed. Becker says this approach was another natural fit: “The sound that Noel has, he’s so instinctual, and has a natural feel that’s coming from him. [Afrocop] goes so well with the Stepping Stone experience.” “For me, it’s a chance to come down and let everything out, do stuff I can’t do in other bands,” says Sells, a member for a year and a half. “It’s improv, but in a compositional, on-the-fly sense,” explains Tulloss. “You can confine it to certain parameters, and within those parameters, you can write these short little pieces, and they only live for a second, then they’re gone. I don’t think we’ve ever repeated anything.” The Stepping Stone maintains a similarly sporadic existence, mixing vinyl-only DJ nights, singer/songwriter showcases, and bring-your-own-records nights on a frequent yet loosely planned basis. As with Afrocop, though, surprise is half the fun. Says Brass: “I’d rather hit an off note than play the same thing twice.” E music@seattleweekly.com THE STEPPING STONE 5903 24th Ave. N.W., 420-3723, ballard steppingstone.com. 5 p.m.–close, Tues.–Sun.

featuring Mitchell Forman & Lionel Cordew w/special guest Eric Marienthal March 20 - 21

An Evening with En Vogue

Grammy-Nominated Funky Divas. “Free Your Mind”, “Never Gonna Get It” and more! March 22 - 25

Jackson High School Jazz Ensembles Award Winning Performances! March 26

Chano Dominquez Flamenco Sketches

featuring Ben Street, Blas Cordoba and Dafnis Prieto Spanish Flamenco Jazz Pianist March 27 - 28

ON SALE NOW Kenny G April 26 – 29

Jack DeJohnette Trio

featuring Chick Corea & Stanley Clarke May 10 – 13

Spectrum Road

featuring Jack Bruce, Vernon Reid, John Medeski & Cindy Blackman June 21 – 24

Walk-ins Always Welcome! All Ages • Free Parking • Gift Certificates

Military, Senior and Student Discounts

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14– 20, 2012

he room is dark, and at half capacity—about 20 inhabitants, all dotted with red and green lights that have sprung from a central point above the bar. It’s mostly regulars tonight, a neighborhood crowd at their neighborhood bar, who have come to take in the live music and absorb the vibe that Stepping Stone owner Robbie Becker calls “analog.” Partially illuminated by candles and a lava lamp, the walls are adorned with paintings from local artists and a handful of record jackets (Santana, Marley, Hendrix, McLean, Cash, Tull, Pickett) that reflect a certain moment in time that you get caught in as soon as you walk through the door. The house band, Afrocop, has picked up a fourth member, brilliant improv guitarist Colin Higgins, for the night, and is jamming on a wild shock of ambient funk. A young man wielding a melodica sits in for a song, then wanders back into the crowd and becomes another one of the observant spectators content to exist in unison. For those in the know, The Stepping Stone has become a hip, one-bar scene. Five blocks northwest of the buzzing Ballard Avenue strip of folk and rock venues and artisan cocktail bars, the Stepping Stone’s decor— Northwest old growth and salvaged timber and stone—sets it apart from most of the less thoughtfully constructed haunts in the area. One-of-kind details, like the stone bar facing that was pulled from a quarry on Vancouver

2033 6th Avenue (206) 441-9729 j a z z a l l e y. c o m

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music»Reverb »

DISPATCHES FROM OUR MUSIC BLOG AT SEATTLEWEEKLY.COM.REVERB

»THROUGH AT 2

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Cloud Rock

Love at the Bottom of the Sea

Pillow talk with Alexandra Niedzialkowski.

The Magnetic Fields’ Stephin Merritt explains why he’s got 69 Love Songs, but not a single cupcake.

BY ERIN K. THOMPSON

BY TODD HAMM

“This is the first record I’ve done in a while with an arbitrary title and arbitrary graphic.”

»COLUMN

PDA From the TSA

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14–20, 2012

Hey, I’m no prude, but . . .

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I

t is no secret that I fly a lot. It is also no small secret that I have a history with substance abuse, general mayhem, and public intoxication. You know this. I know this—and I fear that every cop worldwide knows this. TSA included. Did any of you read about those TSA agents that they busted out in New York and New Jersey? Officers at Newark and JFK were busted stealing money, jewelry, iPads, and laptops from passengers either directly going through the security line, or were stealing out of their baggage down below. That kind of stuff has always kind of scared me in a whole other way. What if they planted something on me so that they could get a bust? Some people just look a little out of the norm. Whether you are dressed religiously, like a hip-hopster, or are a tattooed love god such as myself (what?), you may be setting

BY DUFF MCKAGAN yourself up for a tad bit closer scrutiny by those at airport security. I travel with the same backpack everywhere I go. It has all the stuff I need. Laptop, passport, good-smelling stuff, gum, Kindle, crossword puzzle book, throat coat spray, Ocean Spray (the secret for keeping healthy whilst breathing so many germs on planes). All of these tiny liquids are even too small to have ever registered in the “3 ounces or below” category, so in my backpack they have remained . . . for all of this time. Until last night at SeaTac. As my bag went through the X-ray, I could see the person watching the screen call over a superior. They asked me if it was my bag. I nodded. They were going to have to run it through again. I eyed the guy closely as he carried it back to the belt . . . watching for him to “plant” something on me—or steal my beloved

first record I’ve done in a while with an arbitrary title and arbitrary graphic. It kind of harkens back to the cover of 69 Love Songs, which kind of looks like a big pair of eyes. Does anything stand out to you about playing Seattle versus playing other cities? Cupcakes. We’ve played at Town Hall a few times now, and up the hill from there, there’s this wonderful cupcake place. Cupcake Royale? That’s it. Hopefully the promoter will make sure you are fully stocked for your shows at the Neptune, then. I hope not, actually, because I’m on a diet now. Well, if they’re there anyway, will you have the self-control to not eat one? Yes! E music@seattleweekly.com THE MAGNETIC FIELDS The Neptune, 1303 N.E. 45th St., 682-1414, stgpresents.org. $30 adv./$32 DOS. 8 p.m. Mon., March 19 & Tues., March 20.

crossword book or laptop. But my heart started to speed up too. Shit. Are there some ancient drugs in that backpack? And even though this backpack is much newer than any old drug habit I’ve had, I went into a shaky paranoia. “They need to make a bust, and that bust is gonna come at MY expense. They are going to plant something on me!!” I started to think if I had a lawyer to call for my “one call” . . . As the officer brought the bag over to me and asked if it was all right to go through it, I thought to myself all the bad thoughts about what was certain to befall me. A public fall from grace. What would I tell my kids? How was I going to write Thursday’s column for Seattle Weekly? It turns out that after the 100 trips I have taken with this Ocean Spray and throat spray . . . that these were the culprits that were tripping up the X-ray machine. So that’s it? THAT’S IT?!! It took you guys one hundred times to finally catch this? Hmmm. I was irate when I finally got to the magazine stand. “Kardashians AGAIN?! Jessica Simpson does a scandalous pregnancy photo-shoot?” What’s next? Contraception being included in health insurance? E Duff McKagan is the founding bassist of Guns N’ Roses. His column runs every Thursday on Reverb. askduff@seattleweekly.com

SHOP TALK

During college at Western Washington University, Niedzialkowski got all riot-grrrl and over her distaste for Sleater-Kinney, but the songs she started writing and performing on her guitar were nevertheless calmer and easier. “I used to be embarrassed that my voice was so pretty,” she says. “I’m not meant to scream. I really want to, and I think it’d be really cool, but it’s not going to happen anytime soon.” Cumulus, begun as a solo project, has sprouted into a quartet, and is working on an EP for Capitol Hill’s Porchlight Records. BTW: Niedzialkowski’s left arm sports a tattoo of a girl lying atop a cloud with the words of Langston Hughes’ “Dreams” wrapped around it. To her, clouds represent childhood innocuousness: “When I was a kid, I literally thought that, when I looked at clouds, they were the most comfortable pillows in the world. And if I was ever able to get a parachute, like parachute out of some kind of flying thing, that I could land on the cloud and hang out there.” She can still remember the moment her innocence was shattered: Her family went on vacation to Las Vegas and their airplane flew right through a cloud. “It totally broke my heart,” she says. E

COZELL WILSON

alphabetically arranged on the album. The actual theme of that album was that it was basically soft rock, that it had a genre to it, unlike our other records. But it does seem like you crave these self-imposed rules each time. The Rolling Stones have sounded pretty much like the Rolling Stones since they began, even with Brian Jones playing the oboe. But we have a more fluctuating membership and definitely more fluctuating instrumentation than the Rolling Stones, so whenever we put out a record, we have to decide

what’s going to happen beforehand because it’s not going to just fall into place. I have a houseful of instruments. We’re not going to put them all on every record. We have to do some editing. Do you have a favorite song on Love at the Bottom of the Sea? No. How about a favorite lyric? No. I don’t really do favorites. My brain doesn’t really think that way. But if you’re putting together a set list, doesn’t there have to be some kind of preferential treatment for certain songs? Or doesn’t somebody have to figure out which songs make the cut on an album? It’s not me. I don’t usually pick the singles, for example. In the case of this album, “Andrew in Drag” just sounds like a single, and I agreed with everyone else that it was the optimal first single. But on previous records where we have put out a single, I’m sometimes surprised by what people choose. Can you tell me about the album cover and whether it ties in with the title? The title was chosen for it having nothing to do with any of the songs. The cover was designed to have nothing to do with the title or songs. This is the

MARCELO KRASILCIC

SW: You seem to enjoy having a concept in place for most of your albums, whether it’s writing 69 love songs or making records where all the song titles start with the letter “I.” Where does this come from? Merritt: I’ve actually done three records with concepts or themes. The first one is The Charm of the Highway Strip, which was a theme album about travel; the second was 69 Love Songs; and the third was i, in which all the titles begin with the letter “I,” but the songs have nothing to do with each other, and they’re

THE SITUATION I’m on Capitol Hill at Café Presse with 24-year-old Alexandra Niedzialkowski, founder and frontwoman of the pop-rock band Cumulus. We’re sharing a baguette and, at her recommendation, Okocim beers, a Polish brew with a label that reads “O.K. Beer Okocim.” “You’re more than OK, beer,” says Niedzialkowski, addressing her bottle. “You’re really good!” She lives about five blocks away in a house she shares with an actress, a woodworker, a gardener, her guitarist, and a female cat named Floyd. HOW SHE GOT HERE Niedzialkowski, born and raised on Whidbey Island, recounts her musical evolution as follows: first, printing out Christina Aguilera lyrics so she could sing the songs out loud in her room, then the Lilith Fair folk phase when she wanted to be Jewel (“I remember this one time my dad took me to the EMP right after it opened up, and he showed me a Sleater-Kinney record, ’cause he was like, ‘Alexandra, I think you’d like this band! It’s, like, all girls and they make rock music!’ And I was like, ‘It’s too loud!’ ”), then on to the highschool “Hot Topic emo phase,” then her discovery of the K Records roster after a friend gave her a Mirah CD.

ethompson@seattleweekly.com CUMULUS With Vetiver, Gold Leaves. Columbia City Theater, 4916 Rainier Ave. S., 722-3009. $10. 9 p.m. Sat., March 17.


Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14– 20, 2012

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music»TheShortList Head Like a Kite & Daydream Vacation FRIDAY, MARCH 16

Only a handful of musicians in town are fluent in the exotic language of dance pop. A true sound architect, Dave Einmo has not only mastered the craft on record, he basically teaches the class every time he steps onstage, be it with established dance/hip-hop project Head Like a Kite or lighter new venture Daydream Vacation (with bandmate Asya de Saavedra, of Smoosh). Tonight will be an all-inclusive Einmo affair, as the producer/ vocalist/guitarist has booked his two projects as co-headliners, which will provide not only an extended opportunity to “wild out” on the dance floor, but also to catch a sneak peek of DV’s upcoming album Dare Seize the Fire (out this June). Expect cameos, live instrumentation, lineup mixing, wardrobe changes, antics. With NighTraiN, SPORTS. The Crocodile, 2200 Second Ave., 441-4618. 8 p.m. $10. TODD HAMM

Lucky 2012 w/Calvin Harris FRIDAY, MARCH 16

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The Pretty Reckless SATURDAY, MARCH 17

A dramatic pop-punk act fronted by former child actress and Gossip Girl nymph Taylor Momsen, The Pretty Reckless should be pretty awful. Amazingly, they’re not. Momsen’s voice

Vetiver

With BellaMaine. Vera Project, 305 Harrison St., 956-8372. 7:30 p.m. $9. All ages. ERIN K. THOMPSON

SATURDAY, MARCH 17

It’s easy to tab Vetiver as your basic folk-rock group, but, as with their music, the reality is a bit more complicated than it first appears. The San Francisco–based five-piece is part of a growing number of groups (Kurt Vile, The War on Drugs, and to a lesser degree, Woods) who mix traditional elements of Americana—slide guitar and wide-open, mid-tempo songs—with loads of effects pedals and layers of atmosphere. The band’s latest album, 2011’s The Errant Charm, is an exercise in both songwriting and subtlety; the lushness of the music beautifully complements singer/guitarist Andy Cabic’s subdued melodies. While it’s understandable to think this wouldn’t be a particularly exciting group to see live, Columbia City Theater is one of the best-sounding venues in town, so all the band’s nuances will get a chance to shine. With Gold Leaves, Cumulus.

Magnetic Fields MONDAY, MARCH 19– TUESDAY, MARCH 20

Columbia City Theater, 4918 Rainier Ave. S., 723-0088. 9 p.m. $10. ANDREW GOSPE

Ying Yang Twins

Get high on Daydream Vacation.

SUNDAY, MARCH 18

Long before the likes of LMFAO came along, the Ying Yang Twins were cranking out the crunkest of party-rock anthems. Atlanta natives Kaine and D-Roc (not actually twins, just two dudes) were featured on a slew of early 2000s club bangers, including Lil Jon’s “Get Low” and Britney Spears’ “(I Got That) Boom Boom,” along with their own stripclub anthems like “Salt Shaker” and “Wait (The Whisper Song).” On Sunday the duo will resurrect the Dirty South in the classiest way possible: a black-and-white ball. Tuxes are optional, but twerking will be mandatory. With DJ Kun Luv, Vennum the Star, Shorte, Prano tha Don, Quincy, Skuntdunanna, LaMar Trenton. Nectar, 412 N. 36th St., 632-2020. 8 p.m. $15 adv./$20 DOS/$30 VIP. KEEGAN HAMILTON

*

Robert Schwartzman MONDAY, MARCH 19

Robert Schwartzman is a man of many hats: a member of the Coppola dynasty, a son of Talia “Yo, Adrian” Shire, an occasional actor whose most famous role was a teenage Anne Hathaway’s boyfriend in The Princess Diaries, and frontman of the poppiest of all pop-rock bands, Rooney, who peaked around 2003 after playing “I’m Shakin’” on The O.C. but are still making music together. Schwartzman’s also become something of an activist after befriending a Tibetan Buddhist monk, and all the profits from his 2011 solo album, Double Capricorn, are going straight to the Tibetan Healing Fund, which provides medical care to

EDITOR’S PICK

THE RAINCOATS FRIDAY, MARCH 16

SHIRLEY O’LOUGHLIN

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14–20, 2012

Porter Robinson, Hardwell, Manufactured Superstars, dirtyphonics, Ed Rush & Optical, Goldie, Adventure Club, Crizzly. WaMu Theater, 800 Occidental Ave. S., 628-0888. 7:30 p.m. $45–$100. All ages. ERIC GRANDY

Parlor Mob, The Hollywood Kills. El Corazon, 109 Eastlake Ave. E., 381-3094. 8 p.m. $15 adv./$18 DOS. All ages. MIKE SEELY

Ladies will rule Chop Suey tonight: Influential London post-punk band the Raincoats, a favorite of both Kurt Cobain and 10 Things I Hate About You’s punk feminist Kat Stratford, hasn’t released an album in 16 years, but after Jeff Mangum asked them to play his curated version of All Tomorrow’s Parties this year, the girls decided to follow up the festival with five U.S. shows. Seattle is one of the lucky cities they’ll hit. Another fabulous all-girl trio, the Kill Rock Stars–signed lo-fi outfit Grass Widow, will open, along with some of Seattle’s best DIY rockers, M. Women. Andrew McKibben, who provides M. Women’s shadowy guitar riffs, will be the sole male onstage tonight. What a lucky guy! Chop Suey, 1325 E. Madison St., 324-8005. 8 p.m. $16. ERIN K. THOMPSON

“Andrew in Drag,” the lead single of Magnetic Fields’ new album Love at the Bottom of the Sea, might be the single best song Stephin Merritt has written in years—it’s certainly the closest thing they’ve done in some time to 1999’s landmark 69 Love Songs. (In an interview with New York’s Vulture blog, Merritt has welcomed the comparison, referring to 69 Love Songs as a “calling card” he’d be happy to be known for the rest of his life.) Sadly, it’s also the album’s best song by far, its sprightly verses and high, arching chorus as much of a feint as a dude in a dress. Elsewhere is the familiar mix of arch synth-pop, maudlin ballads, and too-clever off-Broadway musical numbers, crackling with electric noise this time around but too often failing to carry a jolt. Still, they’re famously cranky live! With Holcombe Waller KILIII YU

Setting aside the mild cognitive dissonance of a St. Patrick’s Day–themed big-room rave being headlined by a Scottish producer (close enough?), there’s plenty about Calvin Harris’ unlikely rise to international stardom that’s slightly puzzling. He arrived late to the electro-clash party with 2007’s I Invented Disco (not true—I checked Wikipedia), a claim he backed up with electro-pop novelties that misremembered the ’80s and boasted of his acquisitive way with women, and with the truly inviting “Merrymaking at My Place” (the Mr. Oizo remix is tops). He parlayed that and follow-up Ready for the Weekend into production work for Kylie Minogue, LMFAO, and Rihanna, for whom he produced the #1-charting, chintzy-carnival-organ trance-pop of “We Found Love.” In a moment when pop and rave are the most mixed up they’ve been since, say, C+C MusicFactory, Harris makes for a legit star. Lucky him. With ATB, Flux Pavilion,

women and children in rural Tibet. Double Capricorn is a giddy electro-pop affair that should gel easily with stalwart Rooney fans. So should the catchy sounds of Schwartzman’s current tour co-headliner, The Relationship— another moonlighting project from a pop-rocker, Brian Bell of Weezer.

is astonishingly deep and mature in light of her girlish blonde appearance, and the band sounds like an amalgam of Evanescence, Avril Lavigne, Hole, and Green Day. Sure, Momsy’s raccoon eye makeup and gothy lingerie is a bit much, her “edge” seems more than a little put-on, and no new musical ground is being broken here. But by not being horrible, The Pretty Reckless triumphs mightily. With The

(Monday), Bachelorette (Tuesday). The Neptune, 1303 N.E. 45th St., 877-784-4849. 8 p.m. $30 adv./$32 DOS. All ages. ERIC GRANDY

Lady Antebellum TUESDAY, MARCH 20

The two-guys-and-a-girl trio Lady Antebellum seems as though it’s been genetically engineered to robotically churn out soft-rock hit after soft-rock hit for the country charts. As with the likes of Taylor Swift, Rascal Flatts, or Keith Urban, they are polished to the point that those who prefer their twang trucked in on a gravel road will be instantly repulsed. But while main male crooner Charles Kelley (brother of Josh, aka Mr. Katherine Heigl) comes off as sort of a ’bag, it’s impossible not to be charmed by Hillary Scott, who boasts a voice too true to be dismissed as saccharin and a figure far too full to have been plucked from a lipstick ad and Auto-Tuned for the masses. With Darius “Hootie” Rucker, Thompson Square. KeyArena, 305 Harrison St., 684-7200. 7 p.m. $24–$76.50. All ages. MIKE SEELY


CONCERT SERIES

TUE MAR 20 7PM DOORS • 21+

DRIVE-BY TRUCKERS with ROBERT ELLIS

SHOWBOX AT THE MARKET 1426 1ST AVENUE :: SHOWBOXONLINE.COM

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14– 20, 2012

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Take Warning Presents

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March 18 @ High Dive

THE KNUX

The Vibrant Sound, The Springboards 21+ ONLY - $10 adv. via www.brownpapertickets.com - 8:00 PM

Join us in the Trophy Room for Happy Hour: Thursday Bartender Special 8-Close Fridays: 5-8pm

OPEN NOON TO CLOSE EVERY DAY!

April 14 @ Vera Project

FOXY SHAZAM

Manic, Cadaver Dogs, Just Like Vinyl All Ages - $12 adv. via www.etix.com - 7:00 PM April 19 @ High Dive

PETER BRADLEY ADAMS w/ Guests

21+ ONLY - $10 advance via www.brownpapertickets.com - 8:00 PM

Up coming shows:

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14–20, 2012

3/31 Vera Project - La Dispute, Balance & Composure 4/4 Tractor Tavern - Rusted Root 4/7 High Dive - Ticktockman 4/21 Highline - The Bright Light Social Hour

40

COCKTAILS • TASTY HOT DOGS • LOTSA PINBALL

2222 2ND AVENUE • SEATTLE

206-441-5449


seven»nights COUNTRY/FOLK/ROOTS

HIGH DIVE: 513 N. 36th St., Seattle, 632-0212. Transient

BEN WILLIAMS GROUP: 8 p.m., $9-$20. Seattle Art

Songs, with Rabbit Skin Glue, Ethan Bowe., 8 p.m., $6. THE TRIPLE DOOR: 216 Union St., Seattle, 838-4333. Lucy Wainwright Roche, with The Local Strangers All ages., 7:30 p.m., $13 adv./$15 DOS.

LUCKY 2012: SEE SHORT LIST, P. 38.

JAZZ/BLUES

FRIDAY, MARCH 16

Museum, 1300 First Ave., Seattle, 654-3100.

SATURDAY, MARCH 17

NEEDTOBREATHE: With Ben Rector All ages., 8 p.m.,

$22.50 adv./$25.50 DOS. The Moore, 1932 Second Ave., Seattle, 877-784-4849. STEW & THE NEGRO PROBLEM: All ages., 8 p.m., $30 adv./$35 DOS. The Neptune, 1303 NE 45th St., Seattle, 877-784-4849.

DIMITRIOU’S JAZZ ALLEY: 2033 Sixth Ave., Seattle,

441-9729. Lynne Arriale Trio, 7:30 p.m., $22.50.

EMPTY SEA STUDIOS: 6300 Phinney Ave. N., Seattle,

MAGNETIC FIELDS: SEE SHORT LIST, P. 38.

228-2483. Eli Rosenblatt Trio, with Correo Aereo., 8 p.m., $15 adv./$18 DOS. THE ROYAL ROOM: 5000 Rainier Ave. S., Seattle, 906-9920. Kang/Amponsah/Sukarwanto, 7 p.m., $15. TRACTOR TAVERN: 5213 Ballard Ave. N.W., Seattle, 789-3599. The Big 3: Joe Doria, Ron Weinstein, & Ty Ballie, with The McTuffs: Andy Coe, Cliff Colon, & Tarik Abouzied., 9 p.m., $12 adv./$15 DOS.

TUESDAY, MARCH 20

AFROPOP/REGGAE/WORLD

MONDAY, MARCH 19

LADY ANTEBELLUM: SEE SHORT LIST, P. 38. MAGNETIC FIELDS: SEE SHORT LIST, P. 38.

NECTAR LOUNGE: 412 N. 36th St., Seattle, 632-2020. C-Money

and the Players, with Inhale, Positive Rising., 8 p.m., $10.

Club Listings

Thursday 15

Wednesday 14

ROCK/POP/INDIE

ROCK/POP/INDIE

THE CROCODILE: 2200 Second Ave., Seattle, 441-7416. Citizen

Escape, with Out on the Streets, Metameric., 8 p.m., $5.

FUNHOUSE: 206 Fifth Ave. N., Seattle, 374-8400. Step Daddy,

with La Fin Absolute du Monde, Alex’s Hand., 9:30 p.m., $5.

JEWELBOX/RENDEZVOUS: 2322 Second Ave., Seattle,

441-5823. Power Skeleton, with Crawler, Rending Sinew., 10 p.m., $5. SUNSET TAVERN: 5433 Ballard Ave. N.W., Seattle, 784-4880. The Pack Mules, with Certain Inertia, Perfect Weather., 9:30 p.m., $6.

EL CORAZON: 109 Eastlake Ave.

E., Seattle, 381-3094. Idols, with Burning Twilight, A Hope Not Forgotten, Numbers, Envisionist, Signs All ages., 7 p.m., $8 adv./$10 DOS. FUNHOUSE: 206 Fifth Ave. N., Seattle, 374-8400. The Connerys, with Brandon Daniel and The Chics, Aurora Roarers., 9:30 p.m., $5. NEUMOS: 925 E. Pike St., Seattle, 709-9467. Dead To Rights, with Three For T, The Cocktail Revisionists, DJ Durty Wop, DJ Mike Ol’Skinny., 7 p.m., $8. STUDIO SEVEN: 110 S. Horton St., Seattle, 286-1312. Pathology, with Nightshade, As They Sleep, Julio X, Butyric Fermentation All ages., 6 p.m., $10 adv./$12 DOS. SUNSET TAVERN: 5433 Ballard Ave. N.W., Seattle, 784-4880. Elba, with The Vir, Levator., 9:30 p.m., $7; Vir, with Levator, Slow Skate., 9:30 p.m., $7.

BLUE MOON TAVERN: 712 N.E. 45th St., Seattle,

COUNTRY/FOLK/ ROOTS

Send events to music@seattleweekly.com See seattleweekly.com for full listings NC = no charge, AA = all ages.

N.W., Seattle, 784-3640. Owen and his Checkered Past, 9 p.m. HIGH DIVE: 513 N. 36th St., Seattle, 632-0212. Will Wakefield & The Congress Hotel, with Daryl Hance, The Last Great Love., 9 p.m., $6. NECTAR LOUNGE: 412 N. 36th St., Seattle, 632-2020. Maria In The Shower, with Rory James & The Majestic, Whisky Water., 8 p.m., $5.

675-9116. Hobosexual, with The Stumblebum Brass Band, Springboards., 9 p.m., $5. CHOP SUEY: 1325 E. Madison St., Seattle, 324-8000. The Willow Collective, with Buildings on the Moon, Lights on Why., 8 p.m., $7. COLUMBIA CITY THEATER: 4918 Rainier Ave. S., Seattle, 723-0088. Simon Kornelis, with Gravey Grime Girls., 8 p.m., $5.

CONOR BYRNE: 5140 Ballard Ave.

KELECHI AMADIOBI

Concerts

Sean Kuti & Egypt 80 visit Neumos on Friday, March 16.

PREMIUM

RUM

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14– 20, 2012

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SEATTLE WEEKLY WED 03/14


seven»nights TRACTOR TAVERN: 5213 Ballard Ave. N.W., Seattle, 789-3599.

The Town Pants, with Shillelagh Jack., 9 p.m., $10.

JAZZ/BLUES

CAFE VENUS AND THE MARSBAR: 609 Eastlake

Ave. E., Seattle, 624-4516. Dave Webb Band, with Fundamental Forces, TrimTab., 10 p.m., $6. DIMITRIOU’S JAZZ ALLEY: 2033 Sixth Ave., Seattle, 441-9729. Monty Alexander: Uplift, March 15-16, 7:30 p.m.; Sat., March 17, 7:30 & 9:30 p.m.; Sun., March 18, 7:30 p.m., $26.50. EGAN’S BALLARD JAM HOUSE: 1707 N.W. Market St., Seattle, 789-1621. Gary Kanter and Jean Mann, 9 p.m., $8. MUSICQUARIUM LOUNGE: 216 Union St., Seattle, 838-4333. Dirty Rice, 9 p.m., NC.

Friday 16 ROCK/POP/INDIE

BLUE MOON TAVERN: 712 N.E. 45th St., Seattle, 675-9116.

DvOd, with The Great Um, Eleven Stories, Wes Sp8 & The Visual Dialogue., 9 p.m., $6. CAFE VENUS AND THE MARSBAR: 609 Eastlake Ave. E., Seattle, 624-4516. Badwater Fire Company, with Vigilante Santos, Attack with Care., 10 p.m., $6. CHOP SUEY: The Raincoats: SEE SHORT LIST, P. 38. THE CROCODILE: Head Like a Kite & Daydream Vacation: SEE SHORT LIST, P. 38. DARRELL’S TAVERN: 18041 Aurora Ave. N., Seattle, 542-6688. Ghost Train Trio, with Jo Jo Jupiter, Cash Only., 9 p.m., $5. EL CORAZON: 109 Eastlake Ave. E., Seattle, 381-3094. Fight The Current, with Dylan Jakobsen, Anchor The Tide, Freighms, Matt Bekker All ages., 7 p.m., $10 adv./$12 DOS JEWELBOX/RENDEZVOUS: 2322 Second Ave., Seattle, 4415823. Roaming Herds of Buffalo, with Bandolier., 10 p.m., $5.

tractor www.tractortavern.com

Saturday 17 ROCK/POP/INDIE

5213 BALLARD AVE. NW • 789-3599

BLUE MOON TAVERN: 712 N.E. 45th St., Seattle, 675-9116.

Summer Babes, with Le Sang Song, The Torn ACLs, DJ Rob Z., 10 p.m., $6. CAFE VENUS AND THE MARSBAR: 609 Eastlake Ave. E., Seattle, 624-4516. Screaming Starts, with White City Graves, Nothing Pretty., 10 p.m., $6. COLUMBIA CITY THEATER: Vetiver: SEE SHORT LIST, P. 38. COMET TAVERN: 922 E. Pike St., Seattle, 322-9272. Heathen Shrine, with Theories, Streetwalker, Salo., 9 p.m., $6. THE CROCODILE: 2200 Second Ave., Seattle, 441-7416. Vendetta Red, with Viper Creek Club, Silicon Girls, Encourager All ages., 8 p.m., $15. DARRELL’S TAVERN: 18041 Aurora Ave. N., Seattle, 542-6688. Money Jungle, with Indecisive Rhythm, Perfume., 9 p.m., $6. EL CORAZON: The Pretty Reckless: SEE SHORT LIST, P. 38. FUNHOUSE: 206 Fifth Ave. N., Seattle, 374-8400. DragStrip Riot, with The Graceland Five, The Hardcount, Warning: Danger!, 9:30 p.m., $6. SKYLARK CAFE & CLUB: 3803 Delridge Way S.W., Seattle, 935-2111. Volcano Diary, with Rowe, Joyfield All ages., 4 p.m., $5; Half Acre Day, with Levi Fuller & the Library., 8 p.m., $5. SLIM’S LAST CHANCE CHILI SHACK & WATERING HOLE: 5606 First Ave. S., Seattle, 762-7900. The Badlands,

with Last Gasp, Bigfoot Accelerator, The Coloffs., 9 p.m. SUNSET TAVERN: 5433 Ballard Ave. N.W., Seattle, 784-4880. The Wages of Sin, with Season of Nightmares., 10 p.m., $8.

COUNTRY/FOLK/ROOTS

WED, 3/14 9PM ~ $12ADV/$15DOS 3 BIG ORGANS WITH MCTUFF FEATURING

THE BIG 3:

JOE DORIA, RON WEINSTEIN & TY BALLIE

TUES, 3/20 8PM ~ $6 LOCAL ROCK

FRIENDS AND FAMILY

THE MCTUFF’S:

ANDY COE, CLIFF COLON & TARIK ABOUZIED

TERRIBLE BUTTONS THE AMES

THUR, 3/15 9PM ~ $10 FAST FOLKIN’ IRISH ROCK

WED, 3/21 9:30PM ~ $15 HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONS OF FUZZ AND FEEDBACK

THE TOWN PANTS

MUDHONEY WITH SPECIAL GUESTS FROM AUSTRALIA

SHILLELAGH JACK

FEEDTIME

FRI, 3/16 7PM & 11PM ~ $12.50ADV/$15DOS TW O SH OW S SQUARE PEG CONCERTS PRESENTS

THUR, 3/22 9PM ~ $6 LOCAL ALT-INDIE ROCK

ALL FEMALE LED ZEPPELIN REVIEW

SPECIAL TWO SHOW TICKETS ONLY $20

THE GET FAN FICTION

SAT, 3/17 5PM SEATED SHOW & 9:30PM ~ $20 TW O SH OW S CELEBRATE ST. PATRICK’S DAY WITH

FRI, 3/23 9:30PM ~ $10 RAW SYMPHONIC CHAMBER POP

RENEGADE STRINGBAND

LEMOLO DINOSAUR FEATHERS

ZEPPARELLA

THE PAPERBOYS

HETEROSAPIEN

LOCH LOMOND

CONOR BYRNE: 5140 Ballard Ave. N.W., Seattle, 784-3640.

TIMES LISTED ARE SHOW TIMES. DOORS OPEN 30-60 MINUTES BEFORE

EMPTY SEA STUDIOS: 6300 Phinney Ave. N., Seattle,

3/24 2012 Team McCready Global Benefit with STAR ANNA & THE LAUGHING DOGS, SHELBY EARL, KIM VIRANT 3/25 KELLY JOE PHELPS and CAHALEN MORRISON, CHARLIE PARR 3/26 MONDAY SQUARE DANCE with THE TALLBOYS 3/27 POOR MOON, LOST IN THE TREES, LOW HUMS 3/28 AMY RAY AND HER BAND, LINDSAY FULLER & THE CHEAP DATES album release party 3/29 The Tractor & 91.3 KBCS present ANAIS MITCHELL presents ‘HADESTOWN’ with special guests including CORIN TUCKER as PERSEPHONE and more 3/30 MEGAFAUN, FIELD REPORT 3/31 DANIEL KIRKPATRICK AND THE BAYONETS, TOM EDDY, THE SYNTHONY 3/31 The Tractor & The Stranger present at Neumos THE LUMINEERS ~ sold out! 4/1 JOHN K SAMSON & THE PROVINCIAL BAND, SHOTGUN JIMMIE 4/3 ABIGAIL WASHBURN, OLD MAN LUEDECKE 4/4 Take Warning present RUSTED ROOT, SKINNY LISTER, J MINUS 4/5 TYPHOON

Whisky Swillers, 9 p.m.

228-2483. Brittany Haas & Lauren Rioux, 8 p.m., $14 adv./$18 DOS. THE OULD TRIANGLE: 9736 Greenwood Ave. N., Seattle, 706-7798. The Raybone Experience, with B’yond the Pail., 4 p.m., $8. TRACTOR TAVERN: 5213 Ballard Ave. N.W., Seattle, 789-3599. The Paperboys, with Renegade String Band., 5 & 9:30 p.m., $20.

P U &COMING:

DANCE/DJ/ ELECTRONIC

NEUMOS: 925 E. Pike St., Seattle,

709-9467. Mark Farina, with Pezzner, Michael Manahan, Ramiro, Deep Vibez, Jeromy Nail., 9 p.m., $15.

JAZZ/BLUES ANDY TENNILE

Drive-By Truckers will pull into the Showbox at the Market on Tuesday, March 20. NECTAR LOUNGE: 412 N. 36th St., Seattle, 632-2020. Tip To

6421 Latona Ave. N.E., Seattle, 526-1188. Rai, 10 p.m., NC. SERAFINA: 2043 Eastlake Ave. E., Seattle, 323-0807. Javier Anderson Duo, 9 p.m., NC. VITO’S: 927 Ninth Ave., Seattle, 397-4053. Ruby Bishop, 6 p.m., NC.

CELTIC

THE BLARNEY STONE IRISH PUB: 1909 Third Ave.,

Seattle, 448-8439. Whiskey Galore, 2 & 10 p.m.

THE DUBLINER PUB: 3517 Fremont Ave. N., Seattle,

548-1508. Whiskey Galore, 6 p.m.

FUNK/SOUL

HARD ROCK CAFE: 116 Pike St., Seattle, 204-2233. The

Country Lips, with Wayfinders, Ole Tinder., 9 p.m., $7.

Staxx Brothers, with The Acorn Project., 9:30 p.m., $12 adv./$15 DOS. MUSICQUARIUM LOUNGE: 216 Union St., Seattle, 838-4333. Irukandji Physics of Fusion, 10 p.m., NC. NECTAR LOUNGE: 412 N. 36th St., Seattle, 632-2020. Skerik’s Bandalabra, with Rise N Shine Band., 8 p.m., $8.

Girlfriend, with Dead Man., 9 p.m.

Sunday 18

Arkansas and the River Bandits, with Spare Rib and Bluegrass Sauce., 9:30 p.m., $5.

ROCK/POP/INDIE

COUNTRY/FOLK/ROOTS

COMET TAVERN: 922 E. Pike St., Seattle, 322-9272.

SLIM’S LAST CHANCE CHILI SHACK & WATERING HOLE: 5606 First Ave. S., Seattle, 762-7900. Redneck THE WHITE RABBIT: 513 N. 36th St., Seattle, 588-0155.

JAZZ/BLUES

EGAN’S BALLARD JAM HOUSE: 1707 N.W. Market St.,

Seattle, 789-1621. Pat Johnston, 7 p.m.; QED Trio, 9 p.m.

HIGHWAY 99 BLUES CLUB: 1414 Alaskan Way, Seattle,

382-2171. Nick Vigarino’s Back Porch Stomp, with Meantown Blues., 8 p.m., $12.

AFROPOP/REGGAE/WORLD

NEUMOS: 925 E. Pike St., Seattle, 709-9467. Sean Kuti, with

Egypt 80, Afromassive., 8 p.m., $20.

THE CROCODILE: 2200 Second Ave., Seattle, 441-7416.

MOUNTAINSS, with White Coward, Footwork., 8 p.m., $5.

EL CORAZON: 109 Eastlake Ave. E., Seattle, 381-3094.

Deicide, with Jungle Rot, Abigail Williams, Lecherous Nocturne, Super Happy Story Time Land All ages., 7:30 p.m., $25 adv./$27 DOS. FUNHOUSE: 206 Fifth Ave. N., Seattle, 374-8400. Thee Skullets, with Clare Annoyed., 9:30 p.m., $5. THE VERA PROJECT: 305 Harrison St. (Seattle Center), Seattle, 956-8372. Make Do and Mend, with Success, Erode, Crutches, Four Minute Mile All ages., 7 p.m., $11.

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14– 20, 2012

Base, with Spyn Reset, The Fabulous Party Boys., 8 p.m., $5. SKYLARK CAFE & CLUB: 3803 Delridge Way S.W., Seattle, 935-2111. The Fancy, with The Sundries, Sad Face., 9 p.m., $5. STUDIO SEVEN: 110 S. Horton St., Seattle, 286-1312. Window Pane, 7 p.m. TRACTOR TAVERN: 5213 Ballard Ave. N.W., Seattle, 789-3599. Zepparella, 7 & 11 p.m., $12.50 adv./$15 DOS.

MONA’S BISTRO AND LOUNGE:

43


COMing TO

SEATTLE

AUGUsT 18 dinner & show

WED/MARCH 14 • 7:30PM 91.3 KBCS WELCOMES

lucy wainwright roche w/ the local strangers THU/MARCH 15 • 7:30PM FRI/MARCH 16 & SAT MARCH 17 • 7:30PM & 10:30PM MARK SIANO PRESENTS

modern luv Enter the free ticket lottery at

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SUN/MARCH 18 • 7:30PM

william fitzsimmons w/ denison witmer

THU/MARCH 22 • 8PM WAKE UP! AND SEALED WITH A KISS PRESENTS

michael gira

of swans! w/ sir richard bishop

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14–20, 2012

next • 3/23 darrell scott cd release • 3/24 an evening with girlyman • 3/25 & 3/26 an evening with paul kelly “a to z” • 3/28 blame sally & rebecca pronsky w/ blvd park • 3/30 roy rogers & the delta rhythm kings • 3/31 ian mcferon band w/ kate lynn logan • 4/1 cheryl wheeler w/ kenny white • 4/4 alessandra rose w/ kaylee cole, zach fleury & friends • 4/5 apple jam: beatles singles/1962-1966

44

TRY MUSIomC LIVE COUN ww w.littleredhen.c THURSDAY MARCH 15

BUCKAROOSTERS 9PM - $3 COVER FRIDAY & SATURDAY MARCH 16 & 17

KNUT BELL & THE 9PM BLUE COLLARS - $5 COVER SUNDAY MARCH 18

WES9PMJONES BAND - $3 COVER • 3/14 kane mathis • 3/15 dirty rice • 3/16 the gloria darlings / roots rock fridays w/ selecta’s element & matsui • 3/17 irukandji physics of fusion • 3/18 the schwa • 3/19 free funk union • 3/20 trivia + industry night! • 3/21 audrey ryan w/ laurel brauns TO ENSURE THE BEST EXPERIENCE

PLEASE ARRIVE EARLY DOORS OPEN 1.5 HOURS PRIOR TO FIRST SHOW ALL-AGES (BEFORE 9:30PM)

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4PM - OPEN MIC NIGHT W/ BILLY BODACIOUS TUESDAY MARCH 20

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FREE COUNTRY DANCE LESSONS WITH OUR HOST MARYANN AT 8PM; SUN, MON, TUES

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seven»nights HIP-HOP/R&B

HIGH DIVE: 513 N. 36th St., Seattle, 632-0212. The Knux,

with The Vibrant Sound, The Springboards., 8 p.m., $10.

NECTAR LOUNGE: Ying Yang Twins: SEE SHORT LIST, P. 38.

COUNTRY/ FOLK/ROOTS COLUMBIA CITY THEATER: 4918 Rainier

Ave. S., Seattle, 723-0088. The Past Impending, with Highway Evangelism, Andrew Norsworthy., 8 p.m., $6.

SCAN

T H I S CO D E

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SEATTLE WEEKLY

IPHONE/ANDROID APP FOR MORE CONCERTS OR VISIT

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EMPTY SEA STUDIOS:

6300 Phinney Ave. N., Seattle, 228-2483. Rita Hosking, with Cousin Jack., 7 p.m., $20 adv./$24 DOS. THE TRIPLE DOOR: 216 Union St., Seattle, 838-4333. William Fitzsimmons, with Denison Witmer All ages., 7:30 p.m., $17 adv./$20 DOS.

441-9729. Seattle-Kobe Female Jazz Vocalist Audition, 5:30 p.m., $5-$10.

Tuesday 20 ROCK/POP/INDIE

COMET TAVERN: 922 E. Pike St., Seattle, 322-9272. Thee

Skullets, with 9LB Beaver, The Dweebs., 9 p.m., $5.

EL CORAZON: 109 Eastlake Ave. E., Seattle, 381-3094.

The Song Dynasty, 9 p.m., $6 adv./$8 DOS.

HIGH DIVE: 513 N. 36th St., Seattle, 632-0212. Marys

Mysteries, with Pollyanna Socialist., 8 p.m., $6.

STUDIO SEVEN: 110 S. Horton St., Seattle, 286-1312.

Us From Outside, with A Faylene Sky, This Romantic Tragedy, Send the Messenger, Listen Closely All ages., 6:30 p.m., $10 adv./$12 DOS. TRACTOR TAVERN: 5213 Ballard Ave. N.W., Seattle, 789-3599. Friends and Family, with Terrible Buttons, The Ames., 8 p.m., $6. VITO’S: 927 Ninth Ave., Seattle, 397-4053. Kaylee Cole, 9 p.m., NC.

COUNTRY/FOLK/ROOTS

Monday 19

JEWELBOX/RENDEZVOUS: 2322 Second Ave., Seattle,

ROCK/POP/INDIE

COMET TAVERN: 922 E. Pike St., Seattle, 322-9272. Death

By Steamship, with Guntown, Chrononauts., 9 p.m., $5.

STUDIO SEVEN: 110 S. Horton St., Seattle, 286-1312.

Onslaught, with M-Pire of Evil, Future Disorder, Crush Your Enemies All ages., 6 p.m., $15 adv./$17 DOS. THE VERA PROJECT: Robert Schwartzman: SEE SHORT LIST, P. 38.

COUNTRY/FOLK/ROOTS

HIGH DIVE: 513 N. 36th St., Seattle, 632-0212. The Outlaws,

with RL Heyer., 7 p.m., NC.

441-5823. Amy Abts, with Mary Bue, Red Heart Alarm., 9 p.m., $6. LITTLE RED HEN: 7115 Woodlawn Ave. N.E., Seattle, 522-1168. Davidson Hart Kingsbery, 9 p.m. SHOWBOX AT THE MARKET: 1426 First Ave., Seattle, 628-3151. Drive-By Truckers, with Robert Ellis., 7 p.m., $25 adv./$28 DOS.

DANCE/DJ/ELECTRONIC

CHOP SUEY: 1325 E. Madison St., Seattle, 324-8000.

Faderhead, with Graver Zeit, Pixelpussy, DJ Savak, DJ Noir., 8 p.m., $15.

JAZZ/BLUES

DIMITRIOU’S JAZZ ALLEY: 2033 Sixth Ave., Seattle,

JAZZ/BLUES

DIMITRIOU’S JAZZ ALLEY: 2033 Sixth Ave., Seattle,

441-9729. The Chuck Loeb Quartet, Tue., March 20, 7:30 p.m.; Wed., March 21, 7:30 p.m., $26.50.

A day of conversation about local and sustainable business

Details and registration at:

www.seattlenetwork.org/women-mission

Special Thanks to

for Its Support!

Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14– 20, 2012

March 20th 2012 | 8 am - 6 pm | At URBAN enoteca

45


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Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14–20, 2012

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Greenworks Like a Charm

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BY STEVE ELLIOTT

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reenworks Northeast, a medicalmarijuana cooperative in Lake City, offers a compelling reason to visit: New patients get a substantial 20 percent discount on their first purchase. Armed with this happy information, I visited the shop on a recent Friday and was pleased to find a good selection of about 40 strains and four concentrates, along with a varied offering of medicated edibles. The personable staff at Greenworks completed the experience. “I always wanted, as a kid, to have an unlimited supply of stickers to play with,” budtender Louis told me with a smile as he printed and placed strain-identifying stickers on my selections. Dreams do come true, don’t they? Open about six months, the collective also offers connoisseur-strain cannabis seeds, personal vaporizers in the form of Atmos Raw Vape Pens, and Puffless Productions’ tincture and hash soda pops (available in grape, tangerine, root beer, ginger ale, strawberry, and hash tea). According to Greenworks, they tested sodas for months and Puffless’ offerings were the best they quaffed (and I have to agree—they are quite good). But the main attractions here are the flowers, with good reason: Greenworks has some of the best strains in town. Donation points are $10 a gram (six strains), $12 (nine strains), and $15 (a whopping 27 strains). I tried one of the $10 strains (Jack Herer) and three of the $15 offerings (Sour Diesel, Raspberry Kush, and Querkle). I’m not sure how the Jack Herer came to be a $10 strain, but based on my toke tests, it stands up well against the three $15 varietals. Its lemony tartness, peppery flavor, and soaring sativa high make it a great value. Herer, a

sativa dominant, is ideal for daytime anxiety relief and pain medication without being incapacitating the way many indicas can be. Sour Diesel’s pungent sharpness and beautiful, trichome-coated flowers—along with its loose bud formation (it is, after all, a sativa dominant)—make it a contender for the most-distinctive-smell award. While I’m never thrilled to donate $15 a gram for any cannabis, I tried to remember that back on the East Coast, Sour D goes for $800 to $1,000 an ounce. That casts the $50 eighths and $320 ounces at Greenworks in a more flattering light. The second $15 strain, Raspberry Kush, had the dense, fat buds of an indica dominant. Only subtly smelling of raspberries, its sweet undertones were almost overwhelmed by skunkiness. A great strain for headaches, this Kush was more of an energy strain than many of its indica sisters; thus it should work for daytime as well as evening use. Then there’s the Querkle, a great indicadominant strain for nighttime smoking which is quite effective at relieving body aches and pains. Its lavender-colored nugs will make you drowsy if you go beyond a few tokes, so it’s also a great sleep aid. Greenworks Northeast is at 11064 Lake City Way N.E., 922-3911, info@greenworks NW.com, greenworksnw.com. It’s open 11 a.m. to 8 p.m. Monday through Saturday, and is closed Sundays. E Steve Elliott edits Toke of the Town, Village Voice Media’s site of cannabis news, views, rumor, and humor.

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Seattle weekly • M ARCH 14–20, 2012

Asthma Study

52

Volunteers needed to participate in a study about the causes of asthma. There will be up to seven visits to the University of Washington Medical Center. You will undergo diagnostic breathing tests for asthma. A total of 3 maximum effort exercise tests, 2 sputum induction tests and 2 medical procedures called bronchoscopy, where a physician uses a lighted tube to look directly at the air passages of the lungs and takes small airway samples. Compensation will be provided for time and inconvenience. You must be: • • • • • • •

18 - 59 years old Have a physician diagnosis of asthma With or without exercise induced symptoms Be in good physical condition Be a non-smoker No other major health problems Be available on Tuesdays or Thursdays

For more information contact the study coordinator at 206-221-6393 or email uwasthma@u.washington.edu. (The confidentiality of email communication cannot be guaranteed)

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Seattle Weekly, March 14, 2012 by Sound Publishing - Issuu