Seattle Weekly, February 20, 2013

FEBRUARY 20-26, 2013 I VOLUME 38 I NUMBER 8

SEATTLEWEEKLY.COM I FREE

REVERB: AARON SWARTZ WAS WRONG PAGE 29 | FOOD: THE WEATHERVANE IS FINE PAGE 25

Time is killing Christopher Monfort.

The state is spending millions to do the same.

BY RICK ANDERSON

T IC K E T S ON SALE NOW!

Nancy & Ann Wilson

Seattle weekly • FEBRU ARY 20− 26, 2 013

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Seatt le w eekly • FEBRUARY 20−26, 2013

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Seattle weekly • FEBRU ARY 20− 26, 2 013

inside» February 20–26, 2013 VOLUME 38 | NUMBER 8 » SEATTLEWEEKLY.COM

»9

»25

up front 6

NEWS

9

FEATURE

THE DAILY WEEKLY | Theo Chocolate stands accused of unfair labor practices.

Also: will Holcomb run?

BY RICK ANDERSON | It’s not cheap for

the state of Washington to kill its prisoners; Christopher Monfort and his death-row colleagues could cost taxpayers upward of $12 million.

15 THE WEEKLY WIRE A grunge musical at ACT, tragic love at Seattle opera, and a lynch mob at SIFF.

17 ARTS

17 | OPENING NIGHTS | The Music Man’s retro appeal, Anna Karenina’s doomed passion.

21 FILM

THIS WEEK’S ATTRACTIONS |

An indie fest at NWFF, plus mutant space monsters and Mumia Abu-Jamal.

COPYRIGHT © 2013 BY SOUND PUBLISHING, INC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. REPRODUCTION IN WHOLE OR IN PART WITHOUT PERMISSION IS PROHIBITED. ISSN 0898 0845 / USPS 306730 • SEATTLE WEEKLY IS PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY SOUND PUBLISHING, INC., 307 THIRD AVE. S., SEATTLE, WA 98104 SEATTLE WEEKLY® IS A REGISTERED TRADEMARK. • PERIODICALS POSTAGE PAID AT SEATTLE, WA • POSTMASTER: SEND ADDRESS CHANGES TO SEATTLE WEEKLY, 307 THIRD AVE. S., SEATTLE, WA 98104 • FOUNDED 1976.

25 FOOD

25 | TANGLEWOOD SUPREME | In Magnolia, food is a meal, not a photo op.

27 | FIRST CALL | Love for Greenwood, chapter 1.

28 | A LITTLE RASKIN | The Dog House, enshrined in history.

29 MUSIC

29 | AARON SWARTZ | Why the

anti-SOPA crusader was wrong about “Internet freedom.”

31 | REVIEWS | This week’s releases.

32 | THE SHORT LIST | Method Man, Rakim, the Seattle Symphony, and more.

Design that speaks...

From our Collection of Wedding and Anniversary Bands Open seven days a week.

35 | KARAOKE KORRESPONDENT |

Love for Greenwood, chapter 2.

Seatt le w eekly • FEBRUARY 20−26, 2013

in back

»29

other stuff 18 22 27 34 36 37

| | | | | |

PERFORMANCE FILM CALENDAR FEATURED EATS SEVEN NIGHTS DATEGIRL TOKE SIGNALS

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36 | ALTERNATIVE HEALING 38 | CLASSIFIEDS

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No Fair

I

A Free Public Lecture Thursday, Feb. 28 6-7:30 p.m.

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its decision.” The IMO did not respond to n a 24-page report titled “Aiding & e-mails seeking comment for this story.

Abetting: How Unaccountable Fair In an exchange with Seattle Weekly, Debra Trade Certifiers Are Destroying WorkMusic, vice president of sales and marketing ers’ Rights,” the International Labor at Theo, strongly denies the report’s allegaRights Forum (ILRF) details a 2010 chain tions and questions its methodology. Music of events in which it claims Seattle’s Theo says Theo is “troubled” by the ILRF report.

Chocolate violated U.S. and international “The accusations contained in this report are labor standards during a union-organizing false, the tone is gratuitous and sensational, campaign by workers at the company—alleand the report methodology is flawed,” she gations Theo strongly denies. writes.

Specifically targeting the methods and practices used by the Institute for Market Ecology (IMF) in awarding the organization’s “Fair for Life” fair-trade distinction—which Theo Chocolate has received—the ILRF report cites alleged union-busting techniques utilized by Theo to question the validity of such certifications.

The ILRF report claims that in 2010, based on concerns over workplace safety, increased workloads, shift changes, and mandated long hours, Theo employees met with a representative from Teamsters Local 117 and attempted to unionize in the hope of negotiating a fair contract. In response, according to the ILRF report, Theo management— including CEO Joe Whinney— hired David Acosta from AmeriAccording to Music, in the crafting of its can Consulting Group (ACG), a company report the ILRF blatantly ignored evidence “that specializes in advising management that didn’t support its preconceived thesis. on labor-relations strategies.” Citing infor“In October 2010, during the Teamsters orgamation available on the ACG website, the nizing campaign, our employees initiated, ILRF report indicates that ACG was hired drafted, and distributed a petition indicating to help Theo develop a “union-avoidance” they did not want to unionize,” writes Music. strategy that included assisting “manage“The petition clearly states, ‘Accusations ment in ‘realigning employees’ to ensure made about Theo’s reaction to the proposed that the company will remain union-free in introduction of a union are untrue. In realthe long term.” ity, a meeting was called and administered According to the ILRF report, the by employees, and it was made clear that the “union-busting” tactics employed by Theo majority of us were not interested in a Teamconstituted a violation of U.S. and intersters union. This is the reason Theo currently national labor standards. Despite this, does not have Union representation; most of “On May 28, 2010, two months after Theo us didn’t want one.’ The petition continues, management initiated its union-avoidance ‘We are distressed and offensive, the Institute demoralized that a few for Market Ecology people are undermining (IMO) certified Theo PRINT IS GREAT, but if you want to read the 38 (and the hard work we put Chocolate as meeting counting) blistering comments left into Theo every day. We one of its fair-trade on our recent Phoenix Jones post, go to feel very strongly this standards called ‘Fair The Daily Weekly. is an excellent place of for Life’ despite hearSEATTLEWEEKLY.COM/DAILYWEEKLY employment, and we ing from workers about don’t want to let a few Theo’s anti-union people speak on our behalf.’ tactics,” according to the ILRF report. Fur“We shared this petition with the ILRF, thermore, the report contends that after but they elected to ignore it,” continues being pressured by Theo workers to audit Music. “This is disturbing to us.” and re-evaluate the “Fair for Life” clasOn Valentine’s Day, speakers from Fair sification, the IMO did so, but upheld its Trade Seattle, labor allies, and former Theo original decision—further claiming that the Chocolate workers rallied downtown to draw findings of the audit were confidential. The ILRF report alleges that the IMO “loosened attention to the ILRF report and the allegations it levies against Theo. MATT DRISCOLL its own labor standards in order to justify

NEHA KAUR

Learn more: Lecture.BastyrCenter.com • 206.834.4100

Theo Chocolate faces allegations of union-busting and unfair labor practices.

x

news» Smoke Signals

Smokers received some bad news recently when a little-noticed provision of President Obama’s health-care overhaul got a good look. Some may have choked on their cigarette to find out that they can be charged up to 50 percent more for health insurance under the Affordable Care Act. Here in Washington, where marijuana use just became legal for adults, that raises a new question: Does the penalty apply to pot smokers?

Stephanie Marquis, spokesperson for the state Insurance Commissioner’s office, says the federal rules aren’t entirely clear yet. The feds are in the process of creating a definition of smoking, which Marquis expects will mostly tackle issues like how often you need to smoke to be labeled a “smoker.” Once in the past twelve months? Once a day? But she

Tashkin says his 2006 study showed pot smokers were less likely to develop lung cancer than cigarette smokers.

Holcomb After Pot

Pot reformer Alison Holcomb started hearing late last week about a political robo-poll testing her name against those of City Council members Nick Licata and Mike O’Brien. “I got a couple of calls from Licata supporters saying, ‘You’re not thinking of running against Licata, are you?’ ” the ACLU lawyer recalls.

She isn’t necessarily, and she still doesn’t know who conducted the poll and why. But she concedes that she has been talking to people about a possible run for some elected office—but not because she wants to stir up yet another marijuana revolution.

The woman who ran the victorious Initiative 502 campaign—garnering local and national attention, including a Seattle Weekly cover story (“Pot Mama,” Sept. 26, 2012)—is now ready to move on to other issues. Concerning schools, she laments the way students who are suspended or expelled often end up “cycling through the criminal-justice system.” Tackling gun violence, she muses, may require doing more than enacting laws specifically related to firearms.

Holcomb says she recognizes that one challenge in running for office will be to get voters to see her as being about more than marijuana. Another will be to figure out what she wants to run for. She concedes she’s floated the possibility of running for mayor— an appealing idea, given the few women mayors Seattle has had—but doesn’t sound enthusiastic about doing so this year, given the already-crowded race. She leaves the door open to running for City Council against Sally Bagshaw and Richard Conlin, both of whom are up for re-election this year (but not against Licata or O’Brien).

Also, the outcome of the mayoral race could leave her with another political option. If state Sen. Ed Murray wins, his seat would need to be filled. Holcomb speculates it would go to state Rep. Jamie Pedersen. Voilà—a House seat would open in the 43rd District, which just happens to be where Holcomb lives.

Holcomb is extremely methodical. She relied heavily on polls to shape the marijuana initiative’s direction. So it’s quite likely we’ll see a few more surveys before Holcomb decides what she wants to go after and when.

NINA SHAPIRO E

news@seattleweekly.com

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doesn’t expect the feds will delve into whether there’s a difference between tobacco and pot.

Nor does Washington state law, which already allows insurance companies to charge smokers more, although only by up to 20 percent. “My understanding is that smoking is smoking—whether it’s cigarettes, cigars, or pot,” Marquis says.

Yet that stance doesn’t fit the scientific evidence, according to Donald Tashkin, a leading marijuana researcher and UCLA professor emeritus. Tobacco, he points out in an interview with Seattle Weekly, is responsible for well over a million deaths a year, from lung cancer and pulmonary and cardiovascular diseases. In contrast, he says, “I’m not aware of any deaths attributed to marijuana smoking,” with the exception of fatalities due to motor-vehicle accidents caused by inebriation.

In 2006, Tashkin published the results of the largest study ever of the possible link between marijuana and lung cancer.

“The results were really negative,” Tashkin says. Even heavy pot smokers—among the more than 22,000 participants in the study, funded by the National Institutes of Health—were no more likely to develop lung cancer than nonsmokers.

“If anything,” Tashkin says, “there was an inverse effect.” Pot smokers were ever so slightly less likely to develop lung cancer. This is true, he elaborates, even though marijuana smoke is known to contain carcinogens. Tashkin theorizes that THC, a compound found in marijuana, is likely to provide a countereffect due to properties that can slow the growth of tumors.

Tashkin’s 2006 study countered earlier work he participated in that suggested that pot was linked to lung cancer—work that the feds seized on in their anti-marijuana propaganda. Tashkin says his earlier work was marred by an inadequate control group, which was drawn from

blood donors, who tend to be healthier than the general population.

The feds didn’t seize on Tashkin’s newer work, and they aren’t likely to now as they fill in the fine print on health-care reform rules. While Attorney General Eric Holder has demonstrated some tolerance of marijuana legalization in Washington and Colorado, his administration’s official line is still that pot is a dangerous drug.

As for the state, Marquis says that the difference between tobacco and marijuana is an interesting question, but that her office is likely to defer to the federal definition of smoking when assessing requested rates.

She guesses, however, that insurers aren’t likely to ask for a 50-percent smoker penalty in this state, given the much smaller figure already on the books here. NINA SHAPIRO

7

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The state is spending millions to kill Christopher Monfort.

But time itself may be his executioner. BY RICK ANDERSON

It’s a sparkling afternoon in February. But Christopher Monfort, despite having spent more than three years in jail, is not bothering to look out the King County Courthouse windows. He stares vacantly at the floor, stiffly twists his long upper body to whisper to his attorney, and resumes his downward stare. Besides, what’s to see outside? Sun glinting off police headquarters His occasional courtroom lectures about a war against police haven’t won any cops’ hearts either. In one of his first outbursts, in 2010, he told his guards and the audience, “You can’t see us coming.” His attorneys flinched. He seemed to be describing the ambush murder he is charged with: driving up to a parked police car on Halloween night 2009 in Leschi and firing an assault rifle at the two officers inside, killing one, before speeding off.

A lanky black man with a stern countenance and deep-set eyes, Monfort also told the courtroom in 2010 that “cops work for us”—words contained in one of the messages that prosecutors say Monfort left behind after setting fire to a police mobile command center, parked in a city maintenance yard, two weeks before the Leschi murder. In an apparent attempt to kill first responders, he allegedly booby-trapped the yard with a homemade bomb that failed to explode.

In another court harangue, addressed to the audience before the judge entered, Monfort described his cop-war battlefield injuries: “I’m speaking with a lisp right now,” he said. “The side of my face is paralyzed, I can’t walk, I’m dead from the waist down. Freedom is not free!” Just as he was asking the audience, “Can anybody here tell me the price of freedom?” the judge entered, and the bailiff cut him off with “All rise!”

All rose but Monfort. He sat immobilized in his hand-powered wheelchair, a police bullet still lodged near his spine. It was the price he was paying.

Or the down payment. As an accused cop-killer, he’s facing the death penalty.

The more than $3 million of taxpayer money spent on the case is also just a down payment. A trial for aggravated murder and other charges won’t be held for at least seven months, preceded

by a crossfire of briefs and motions and a series of pretrial hearings, including one set for Friday, Feb. 22, in which Monfort’s attorneys plan to argue the unconstitutionality of the death sentence.

If he’s convicted and sentenced to die, an automatic state Supreme Court review will follow, as will years of appeals.

Though his lawyers told prosecutors that Monfort would consider a plea deal in return for a sentence of life without parole, he has pleaded not guilty. His three court-appointed public defenders are focused primarily on saving their client from a lethal injection.

His attorneys contend that Monfort was insane at the time of the murder, unable to tell right from wrong—a claim that, should it fail to persuade the jury during trial, could be re-argued during the jury’s death-penalty sentencing phase. It’s also a claim likely to be dropped in exchange for a plea deal.

Monfort’s mental state has been a concern. According to recently released jail documents, the accused killer attempted suicide in his cell last October 12. Details were partially censored, but he cut himself with a razor and was hospitalized. The jail, without announcing the suicide attempt, subsequently said it would provide him with a TV to break up the monotony of isolation.

Should Monfort be convicted and sent to death row, he won’t necessarily die at the end of a needle, his attorneys say. “His life expectancy is substantially shorter than most 44-year-olds,” says defense attorney Carl Luer in an interview. All things considered—Monfort’s paralysis, pills, pain, infections, mental state, pressure sores, declining condition, and the bullet in his back—leave him “roughly 14 1/2 to 15 years of life,” Luer estimates. » CONTINUED ON PAGE 10

Seatt le w eekly • FEBRUARY 20−26, 2013

up the hill? Monfort’s a hated man there. He’s in court today for allegedly killing a police officer and attempting to kill two more.

9

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Life is different here Monfort, immobilized from the waist down, in court earlier this month.

» FROM PAGE 9 That’s long enough, judging by the intricacies of a typical Washington state death-penalty case, to cost millions of taxpayer dollars. And Monfort is one of three accused murderers currently facing the death penalty in King County, a rare string of ongoing capital prosecutions that have already cost taxpayers more than $9 million without a single trial being held.

But his long and pricey prosecution could fall years short of producing the state’s intended result. Monfort’s failing health has become its own kind of slow-motion death penalty, his attorneys claim. If convicted, he likely won’t live to attend his execution.

Seattle weekly • FEBRU ARY 20− 26, 2 013

C

10

hristopher Monfort was taken into custody a week after the murder of Seattle Police Officer Tim Brenton.

A 39-year-old married father of two, Brenton died instantly of a head wound and other injuries after the driver of an old baby-blue Datsun 210 pulled up next to his cruiser parked on 29th Avenue East. It was just after 10 p.m., October 31, 2009, when the shooter opened fire with a semi-automatic Kel-Tec .223-caliber rifle.

Rookie officer Britt Sweeney, 33, sitting next to Brenton, ducked in time and was only grazed on the back. She got out, radioing for help as she fired 10 shots at the fleeing car, hitting it at least once.

Without a license-plate number, police issued a general description of the suspect’s car.

Eventually, on a tip, officers tracked the vehicle to a Tukwila apartment complex on November 6, the day of Brenton’s memorial in Seattle.

Seattle Police Sgt. Gary Nelson ran into the Datsun’s owner, the 6-foot-3, 215-pound Monfort, on the outside stairs. From less than 8 feet away, Monfort allegedly pointed a gun at Nelson’s face and pulled the trigger. With no shell in the chamber, Monfort’s Glock 9 dry-fired. He ran off as Nelson ducked and called for backup.

Three police officers searched for Mon-

fort, then saw him running on a fourth-floor landing. When they shouted for him to stop, he brandished his gun again. Six police shots were fired; two bullets struck Monfort, and he fell in a crippled heap. One bullet went through his cheek and out his neck, the other into his stomach, striking his spine. Critically wounded, he underwent surgery and spent more than a month in the hospital. He left manacled in a wheelchair for the downhill ride to the King County Jail.

Monfort is now housed on the seventh-floor medical unit in a solitary cell, where corrections officers often have to help him in and out of his wheelchair. He takes a “handful” of pills three times a day, his attorneys say, including anti-seizure and pain medicines.

As his special white jail garb signifies, the 44-year-old onetime truck driver, college student, and police-academy hopeful is classified by the jail as an “ultra-security risk.” Though he can’t walk, his feet are shackled during court sessions. So are his hands, secured in silver cuffs linked to a waist chain. He is escorted by three guards who are never more than a few feet away.

Prosecutors believe they have a winning case against Monfort, with hard DNA and ballistic evidence to link him to Brenton’s “assassination,” as police officials have called the shooting.

Monfort’s apartment looked like a small commando center, police say, where they found the assault rifle used to kill Brenton. The weapon was bought a week before the shooting at a Puyallup gun show, sold by arms dealer David Devenny, 70, of Olympia. Devenny is now in prison doing 18 months for a number of illegal gun sales. (Federal investigators were unable to determine whether he sold the assault weapon directly to Monfort or to someone else.)

According to veteran Seattle Police Det. Cloyd Steiger, ballistics tests show that the bullets that hit officer Brenton matched Monfort’s weapon “to the exclusion of all other weapons in the world.” DNA from a bandanna found at

the murder scene, allegedly left as a calling card, matches DNA found in Monfort’s apartment, Steiger says. Investigators also found a manifesto Monfort was writing about waging a war on police, and police brutality, which includes the line, “From this day forward, when Police Brutalize Citizens, Police will Die.” Investigators would later say Monfort was obsessed with the case of Deputy Paul Schene, who in 2009 was caught on tape pummeling a 15-year-old girl in a King County holding cell.

Also in the apartment were a stack of car tires, a softball-sized homemade bomb, a handgun, a cannon fuse, a shotgun, two other rifles, hundreds of bullets and shells, and a police scanner. Pamphlets on the Constitution were spread along a kitchen countertop. The bed was neatly made with an American flag laid on top.

W

hen the state proposes killing a killer, the legal microscope is focused excruciatingly closely.

Each facet and angle of the criminal case is analyzed and debated, particularly by the defense seeking holes in the prosecution’s case or laboring to throw out the death sentence. As the American Bar Association explains in its guidelines for members: “Because of the possibility that the client will be sentenced to death, counsel must be significantly more vigilant about litigating all potential issues at all levels in a capital case than in any other case.” The client’s life, the bar guidelines add, “may well depend on how zealously counsel discharges this duty.”

In a sparsely attended hearing on February 1, with Monfort’s mother sitting in the back of the room, the defense asked Superior Court Judge Ronald Kessler one of those be-vigilantand-zealous questions: whether their client could have one hand free while he’s in court.

It was another in the series of ongoing pretrial arguments, motions, and minutiae that

come with such cases. Briefs run to extraordinary lengths (Monfort’s legal challenge to the death penalty comprises 2,750 electronically filed pages), while investigative, evidentiary, and discovery reports and documents fill stacks of boxes and CDs. Thousands of court pages alone involve repeated skirmishes over what documents to seal and whether other documents should be open to the public before trial.

After corrections officers rolled Monfort up to the defense table in Judge Kessler’s courtroom that afternoon, they stood by and watched the defendant’s every move, especially the moments he picked up a pen with his cuffed hand to write.

At the hearing, his attorneys filed notice in open court that they will attempt to prove Monfort was insane when he allegedly killed officer Brenton. It was a strategic move and a signal of things to come at trial. But most of

» CONTINUED ON PAGE 12

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Seatt le w eekly • FEBRUARY 20−26, 2013

Should the Monfort and Carnation cases run their marathon deathpenalty course, the taxpayer tab could easily top $12 million for all three.

that day in the courtroom was spent debating, essentially, how big a flight risk the paraplegic Monfort was, and conversely, whether he should be enabled to write more comfortably during the hearings.

It was, in fact, the second time taxpayerfunded lawyers came together in Kessler’s courtroom to argue those points.

In a December hearing, the judge approved the defense attorneys’ request to allow Monfort to be unshackled in court. But a corrections officer watching over him said that couldn’t be done: Orders require keeping the defendant in cuffs outside the jail.

Kessler told the guard he was in contempt of court if he didn’t comply. The officer still refused. A recess followed. Then more debate.

Finally Monfort attorney Todd Gruenhagen chose to drop the challenge, but later filed an appeal. The jail showed “a stunningly outrageous display of contempt” for the court’s authority, he said in a brief. That riled deputy prosecutor Nancy Balin, who represents the jail. Despite his condition, Monfort was a courtroom threat, she insisted. Consider the possibility, for example, that Monfort may have followers, and his supporters “may be fomenting a rescue plan,” she said in a response brief. A “large group could quickly form” and overcome security, allowing the partially unchained defendant in the wheelchair to make a roll for it.

Kessler heard further oral arguments on February 1. “The jail,” the diminutive Balin told him, “does not want to be in the position of saying ‘I told you so’ ” should a one-handfree Monfort cause courtroom tumult or escape. Gruenhagen, gray-haired and easygoing, said it seemed a little farfetched that Monfort was a threat to “propel himself out of the chair” if his hand was freed. “You tip him out of his wheelchair and he’s going nowhere.”

These arguments—sometimes trivial, sometimes not—can stretch for decades in capital cases in Washington. Gruenhagen cites the example of former death-row inmate Darold Stenson, 59, of Clallam County. He was given the death penalty for the 1993 shooting deaths of his wife, Denise, and his business partner, Frank Hoerner. But on appeal the case was reversed last year by the state Supreme Court, which found that prosecutors had wrongly withheld evidence. Stenson is now back in the county jail, without bail, awaiting a new deathpenalty trial that the county says will cost up to $1.4 million. It’s a 20-year-old case that has already cost millions, notes Gruenhagen, “and they’re starting at the beginning again.”

Another man on death row has been working his appeals for 22 years for a crime dating back a quarter-century: Jonathan Lee Gentry was convicted in 1991 for the bludgeoning death of 12-year-old Cassie Holden on June 13, 1988, in Kitsap County. His latest appeal was rejected last August by the U.S. 9th Circuit Court, but he continues to fight on in court.

Back in King County, after an hour of legal back-and-forth, the judge took a moment to mull Monfort’s and Balin’s arguments, then went down the issue point by point. Free the defendant’s hand, he finally ruled. Free the other one too. Immediately, Balin had the guards remove Monfort’s cuffs. Despite a drooping eye and the right-side facial

11

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King County prosecutor Dan Satterberg says capital punishment is reserved for cases like Monfort’s.

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paralysis, Monfort brightened noticeably as he picked up a pen.

He had won a small, if ironic, victory: His attorney had convinced the court Monfort would remain secure enough in court for the state to attempt to send him to his death.

Coming up… Steve Kuhn Trio w/ Buster Williams and Joey Baron; Shofar (from Poland); Peter Knight (from Australia), Joel Harrison’s Spirit House featuring Brian Blade and Cuong Vu; Instant Composer’s Pool (ICP); Kocani Orkestar; Tinke Postma; Refuge Trio. 206.547.6763. $10-$28. www.earshot.org

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DANCE Khambatta Dance Company: TRUTH & BETRAYAL AND OTHER WORKS Kirkland Performance Center February 22

The five-member Seattle based company, led by Artistic Director Cyrus Khambatta, contrasts rigorous partnering and athletic movement with authentic human content to create an emotionally moving dance, which is both visually beautiful and physically demanding. The company will perform three pieces: A Moment Repeated, Ashutosh, and the worldpremiere of Truth & Betrayal. 7:30pm. 425.893.9900. $25. www.kpcenter.org

Seattle weekly • FEBRU ARY 20− 26, 2 013

VISUAL ARTS

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Rembrandt, Van Dyck, Gainsborough: THE TREASURES OF KENWOOD HOUSE, LONDON Seattle Art Museum On View Now – May 19

Rembrandt, Van Dyck, Gainsborough features a selection of approximately 50 masterpieces from the Iveagh Bequest collection donated to Great Britain by Edward Cecil Guinness, 1st Earl of Iveagh (1847–1927) and heir to the world’s most successful brewery. Among other treasures, the exhibition provides a rare opportunity to see Rembrandt’s late Portrait of the Artist (ca. 1665), which has never left Europe before.

206.654.3210. $12-$20 (free for SAM members). www.seattleartmuseum.org

MAGIC SYNC & FLOTSAMJETSAMLAGAN: THE ONENESS SOIL Art Gallery Showing now - March 2

February at SOIL includes two exhibits. The first by Andy Arkley, Courtney Barnebey and Peter Lynch who have been collaborating for over ten years. With Magic Sync, they have created an interactive installation of music, light and sculpture.

The second, FlotsamJetsamLagan: The Oneness is a collection of works on paper by Cable Griffith, created over a span of seven years and represent various curiosities, experiments, precursors, and oddities of Griffith’s practice. www.soilart.org

GIMMECULTURE@SEATTLEWEEKLY.COM

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he day before Christopher Monfort won the right to be partially unshackled in the courtroom, another judge ruled King County’s prosecutor had used the wrong legal formula in deciding to seek the deaths of two people charged in a separate capital case. Joseph McEnroe, 34, and his former girlfriend Michelle Anderson, 34, face separate trials, each accused of the 2007 aggravated murders of six people—Anderson’s parents, brother, sister-in-law, niece, and nephew.

Allegedly, Anderson felt slighted by her family after her parents suggested she pay rent for her Carnation trailer home. She and McEnroe, prosecutors charge, then slaughtered the family: Wayne Anderson, 60, and his wife, Judith, 61; her brother, Scott, and his wife, Erica, both 32; and the pair’s children, Olivia, 5, and Nathan, 3. Prosecutors say Anderson shot her father with a 9 mm handgun and McEnroe also shot him with a .357 handgun. He then shot Anderson’s mother twice. After hiding the bodies in the backyard, the twosome lay in ambush for the rest of the family, killing them as they came in the door.

If convicted, Anderson would be the first woman ever sent to Washington’s death row.

She has pleaded not guilty, but her attorneys say she’d reconsider if the death penalty was struck. And for the moment, it effectively has been: Superior Court Judge Jeffrey Ramsdell found that prosecutors wrongly factored in the strength of their evidence as part of the equation used to decide whether to seek the death penalty. King County Prosecutor Dan Satterberg should have considered mitigating circumstances rather than some evidence factors in arriving at his decision, the judge said of

the complicated formula. Satterberg called the ruling flat wrong, and is seeking an expedited appeal to overturn it.

Should the Monfort and Carnation cases run their marathon death-penalty course, the taxpayer tab could easily top $12 million for all three, based on other similar cases. The three defendants have all been declared indigent, leaving the public to pay for their prosecution, defense, and appeals.

V. David Hocraffer of the King County Office of Public Defense says the pretrial, defense-only tab for the three cases already comes to $7.8 million. Though the county has tightened its belt during the recession, “We have to build a certain amount of deathpenalty costs into our budget” to be prepared, Hocraffer says. If costs soar, he goes to the county council to ask for more.

The majority of defense costs are for attorneys. Other major expenses include staff investigators, materials, experts, and lab work.

Ethan Rogers of the King County Prosecutor’s Office says prosecutors so far have spent $780,000 on the McEnroe and Anderson cases and $446,000 preparing to try Monfort. That brings the taxpayer cost—for both prosecuting and defending the trio accused of murdering or attempting to murder nine people—to $9 million and counting. But a sizable figure is missing from that total.

While the defense’s numbers include the cost of investigators and lab work, the prosecution’s does not. Police handle the prosecution’s investigations. Seattle and King County officers put the Monfort and Carnation cases together, and continue to be involved as they progress. Their costs in those cases are not broken out by the prosecutor or the departments. Defense attorney Gruenhagen guesses that it’s “in the millions, easily.”

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eath-penalty opponents and critics cite costs as a major reason to end such prosecutions. A 2012 study found that California, for example, has spent $4 billion on capital cases since 1978, and could save $5 billion over the next two

decades just by commuting the sentences of its death-row population—the U.S.’s largest, at 724 inmates. In a comprehensive 2009 study, the Death Penalty Information Center called execution a “wasteful program with no clear benefits.”

The most costly death-penalty case in Washington history is thought to be that of Green River killer Gary Ridgway, the murderer of at least 48 women. In just a short period— from his 2001 arrest to his 2003 sentence—the county and state paid $12 million for his prosecution and defense. In the end, the death penalty was dropped. He received life without parole in return for providing additional information on his murders.

Prosecutor Satterberg is forging ahead with the three current cases in part, he has said, out of respect for the victims and their families.

The Brenton and Carnation murders are the kind of cases the penalty was reserved for, he told reporters, and cost shouldn’t be the deciding factor. In 2008, he cited “the magnitude of these alleged crimes, the slaying of three generations of a family, and particularly the slaying of two young children” as factors deserving the death penalty in the Anderson/McEnroe prosecutions. In 2010, seeking the death penalty against Monfort, he likewise pointed to the crime’s “magnitude,” plus “the absence of significant mitigating factors.”

Satterberg blames what he calls the “death-

Legislation to end capital punishment is an annual rite in Olympia.

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oday, eight men are set to die by capital punishment in Washington.

Monfort, Anderson, and McEnroe, if convicted, would push Washington’s death-row waiting list into double digits.

Satterberg argues that if Washingtonians don’t like the death penalty, they should

» CONTINUED ON PAGE 14

Seatt le w eekly • FEBRUARY 20−26, 2013

penalty industry ” for the high costs. Most defense attorneys, he said in an interview on Q13 last year, “are ideologically opposed to the death penalty and want to prove how slow and how expensive it is.” His spokesperson, Dan Donohoe, says Satterberg doesn’t want to comment further.

David Sorenson and Colleen O’Connor, attorneys for Michelle Anderson, filed a 20-page motion to strike the death penalty against their client after hearing Satterberg’s Q13 interview. They labeled it “outrageous government conduct.” They lost in court but scored some points, saying the prosecutor’s office had caused delays as well, and that not only were Satterberg’s remarks conjecture, they could prejudice potential jurors. As a result, jurors “will be less likely to trust our motivations and give less weight to the evidence we present.”

Monfort defender Gruenhagen says that it’s “Mr. Satterberg who was elected to pursue, or not pursue, the death penalty. It’s really the local prosecutor who makes the decision,” knowing costs will be high, he says. Of Washington’s 39 counties, only a few take on death-penalty prosecutions, Gruenhagen adds.

A 2007 Washington State Bar report on capital punishment observes that, because most counties can’t afford capital trials, “Such financial pressures could result in the uneven application of the death penalty across the state.”

Since taking office after the death of his mentor Norm Maleng in 2007, Satterberg has sought the death penalty against four defendants—the three current, plus Conner

Schierman, whom Maleng originally indicted.

Schierman was convicted in 2010 for the 2006 stabbing murders of his Kirkland neighbors: Olga Milkin, 28; her sons Justin, 5, and Andrew, 3; and Milkin’s sister, Lyubov Botvina, 24. Schierman’s defense was that he had gone haywire serving as a National Guardsman in Iraq. “I’ve been told by people I’m going to die, I’m going to hell, but I’m already there,” he said after his sentence was handed down.

Jim Conroy, Schierman’s attorney, told the jury that someone else might have killed the immigrant family who lived across the street from Schierman, and that his client somehow woke up among the bodies, having suffered an alcoholic blackout. Schierman then doused the victims with gas and set fire to the home, claiming he covered up the deaths because no one would believe he was innocent. But once jurors found Schierman guilty—persuaded

by DNA evidence—they took little more than a day to agree on a death sentence. At a press conference afterward, Satterberg said the jury was simply reacting to the facts of “one of the worst crimes in the history of this county.”

Schierman is now on death row in the state pen at Walla Walla—destined perhaps to join the 78 men executed in Washington since 1904, according to the state Department of Corrections. Sixty-six were white, seven black, two Asian, two Hispanic, and one Eskimo.

The death penalty has been abolished and reinstated in Washington twice over the past century. The current state law was approved in 1981, then amended over the next several years. Executions resumed in the 1990s. Since then, starting with the hanging of triple murderer Westley Allan Dodd in 1993 (he refused to appeal his conviction and chose to die), five have been executed, the most recent being Cal Coburn Brown in 2010.

Satterberg, along with Brown’s father, brother, and sisters, was in the audience when Brown, 52, spoke his final words from the execution chamber, awaiting a lethal injection.

Brown claimed it was wrong for him to die after he confessed to the 1991 of killing Holly Washa, 22, of Burien, whom he abducted, raped, and tortured before stabbing her repeatedly and slitting her throat, leaving her to bleed to death in the trunk of her car.

“I only killed one victim,” Brown said, noting that Green River killer Ridgway killed four dozen women, yet plea-bargained a life sentence. “I cannot really see that there is true justice. Hopefully, sometime in the future that gets straightened out.”

His was the first state execution using a onedrug injection—the anesthetic sodium thiopental—rather than the three-drug cocktail still used by other states, which death-penalty opponents say causes unnecessary suffering and pain. A corrections spokesperson said the Brown execution was carried out “humanely and was dignified.” Satterberg told reporters that Brown’s demise was “quick and painless.”

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» FROM PAGE 13

Seattle weekly •• MO FEBRU 2 013 SEATTLE WEEKLY NTHARY XX–20− XX,26, 2010

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lobby legislators to change the law. Not that they haven’t tried. Legislation to end capital punishment is an annual rite in Olympia, and again, cost is the driving force behind the current effort. Reps. Reuven Carlyle (D-Seattle), Tina Orwall (D-Des Moines), and Maureen Walsh (R-Walla Walla) have introduced House Bill 1504, “an act relating to reducing criminaljustice expenses by eliminating the death penalty in favor of life incarceration.”

At last year’s bill hearing, no one spoke in favor of the death penalty, which state Sen. Pam Roach (R-Auburn) called a shame. She proceeded to engage each anti-penalty speaker in such sharp debate that another legislator had to admonish her, asking, “Could the senator please limit her responses to questions?”

Retired professor and former Harborview Medical Center social-work director Karil Klingbeil, whose sister was murdered in 1981, said she once favored the penalty, but now opposes it. The reason no one was speaking for capital punishment, she told Roach, was simply because “people are not in favor of it anymore.” The penalty is an unnecessary financial and emotional burden on society, she said, and itself deserves death. Instead, the proposal died in committee.

The Washington Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty says it sees signs that public support is growing for ending the death penalty in the state—just as it has in Oregon, which in 2011 announced a moratorium on executions. Elsewhere, fewer cases are being brought: U.S. death sentences dropped from 224 in 2000 to 112 in 2010, one study found.

The three legislators behind the newest anti-penalty bill argue that executions are “below us as a civilized society.” While capital punishment is also a financial drain on government, they said in a statement that “We believe the death penalty is immoral, unfairly implemented, and appeals to society’s most violent instincts rather than love and compassion.”

That may indeed be true. The base motive for legalized murder by the state, some argue, is revenge. Many consider that justice, and are unlikely to find love and compassion for an accused cop-killer such as Christopher Monfort. But that hasn’t slowed his attorneys.

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arl Luer says the defense will eventually spell out its argument for the claim that Monfort was insane at the time of his alleged murder and arson rampage. Attorneys also plan to present mitigating factors, such as his mental state, to prevent his execution. In an interview, Luer, co-counsel Gruenhagen, and the third team attorney, Stacy MacDonald—all from the public-defender law firm Associated Counsel for the Accused—say Monfort had a troubled start in life. He was born to a white woman and a black father, and grew up in a rural Indiana town where the Klan had once marched.

“He was the only minority in any of his school classes,” said Luer. “He was bullied and beat up in school.”

His parents divorced when he was young, and Monfort’s mother, Suzan Monfort, remarried and moved to Alaska. She was living there at the time of the Leschi murder, and has since moved to Washington. She visits her son three

times a week in jail, the attorneys say. She does not want to comment on his alleged crimes.

But shortly after the shooting, she issued a statement about Monfort, her only child.

He finished the sixth grade in Indiana, she said, went to school in Alaska, and attended high school in Denver where Suzan Monfort lived after her second divorce. “As a little boy,” the mother recalled, “it was Scouts, baseball, football, playing outside with friends at any chance. He loved putting model cars and airplanes together. He developed a major interest in airplanes and collected books on them, and later learned to sky-dive, and as an adult learned to love scuba diving [and] motorcycling, and he loved to travel.

“While in community college, he began to paint, and loved to paint to music, and won a prize for one of his paintings at the school. He also is a lover of music—all genres—and taught himself guitar, and would often give gifts of music to friends and family.”

When he was 21, Monfort applied to become a police officer in California, where his father lives, she said. He eventually moved to Seattle, attended Highline Community College, and was accepted at the University of Washington. “It was there he began to think about law school,” Suzan Monfort said, “but it became clear to him while counseling juvenile offenders as a class requirement that his talents lie more in teaching civil liberties—ways to keep young men from getting deeper into [the] criminal system. [He] wanted to be able to give them hope and not to give up.”

Some news reports describe Monfort as a loner with a temper. The Seattle Times reported he was radically opposed to the war in Iraq while a student at Highline, before enrolling at the UW in 2006. He obtained a bachelor’s degree in 2008, and was a truck driver until several months before his arrest.

Up to that point, he had a sparkling-clean criminal record. His attorneys say he was concerned, if not obsessed, over the issue of police brutality—a theory prosecutors also put forth.

He was particularly focused on the police beating of 15-year-old Malika Calhoun.

A note he is alleged to have left at the boobytrapped maintenance yard on October 22, 2009—the 14th annual Day of Protest to Stop Police Brutality, observed by the October 22nd Coalition—states, “These deaths [presumably from the bomb that didn’t go off] are dedicated to [county] Deputy Travis Bruner, he stood by and did nothing, as Deputy Paul Schene Brutally beat and [sic] unarmed 14-year-old girl in their care.”

Schene was fired by the King County Sheriff’s Department after he kicked and punched Calhoun, who threw a shoe at him while she was being booked in SeaTac in early 2009.

Caught on videotape, he was tried twice for the assault, but jurors deadlocked both times.

Was that the tipping point for Christopher Monfort? And do his attorneys plan to factor that into an insanity defense, and as mitigation should he be found guilty and face jurors again in a penalty phase? At that point, his fate will be either death or life in prison without the possibility of parole.

“That’s a big question in this case,” says Luer. “But it’s not one we’re willing to answer just yet.” After all, time is on their side. E randerson@seattleweekly.com

the»weekly»wire fri/2/22

Madeleine Albright for the job (the first time a woman held the post). An internationalist with close family ties to Europe, Albright recalls her very eventful youth in

There will be another Oscar?

Day-Lewis in Blood.

FILM

Prague Winter: A Personal Story of Remembrance and War, 1937–1948 (Harper, $30).

Hard Adversaries

E. Pine St., 781-5755, landmarktheatres.com. $8.25. Midnight. (Repeats Sat.) BRIAN MILLER STAGE

Grunge Echoes

among many others), cites another way the show pays tribute to what many people still view as a golden era. “I wasn’t running off to see Soundgarden or anybody back then,” she says. “Partly because, frankly, I was kind of irritated by it all getting so much attention. But I was doing balls-to-the-wall theater. And now it’s come full circle.” (Through March 10.) ACT Theatre, 700 Union St., 296-7676, acttheatre. org. $15–$30. 8 p.m. STEVE WIECKING VISUAL ARTS

Torn, Torn, Torn

Collage was both an art and an inherited tradition for the late Northwest master Paul Horiuchi (1906–1999). Back in Japan, whence he emigrated as a teen, there was the old shikishi mode of torn-paper collage.

By the time the former Wyoming railroad worker reached Seattle after World War II, he was transitioning out of landscapes and urban scenes, falling under the sway of Mark Tobey and other Northwest modernists. Very much a cross-cultural talent, Horiuchi made hybrid art in his collages, creating abstract studies that could—if you stare at them long enough—suggest the rocks, mountains, and waves of his adopted home. His inspiration in the ’50s was avowedly the torn old handbills he saw posted in Chinatown; bits of calligraphy and other found scraps would sometimes also be incorporated into his collage work.

Still, it’s the purely formal arrangement of color and shape—like his most public and recognized work, the 1962 Mural Amphitheater at Seattle Center—that got him into SAM and made him widely known. I was lucky enough to grow up in a home with a Horiuchi collage on the wall, and its contours are as familiar to me still as our family’s backyard.

Horiuchi’s work is layered with local texture and history; even the paper came from our forests nearby. Paper Unbound: Horiuchi and Beyond presents his work, and that of other artists, through May 14. Wing Luke Museum, 719 S. King St., 623-5124, wingluke.org. $9.95–$12.95. 10 a.m.–5 p.m. BRIAN MILLER

FILM

Raging Against the Dark

“Try and Get Me! ” dares the opening-night film of this year’s Noir City series, curated and introduced by film scholar Eddie Muller.

That bitter, nothing-left-to-lose cry sets the tone for 15 titles that favor rarities and rediscoveries over familiar classics and cult favorites. The last major Hollywood film by blacklisted director Cy Enfield, it’s a 1950 take on the lynch-mob dramas of the ’30s, dosed with postwar anxiety and sociopathic anger, the latter thanks to Lloyd Bridges as a two-bit crook long on ideas and short on temper. Made independently, it was orphaned in recent years, so the Film Noir Foundation stepped in to restore the picture. It’s presented in a fresh 35mm print, followed

by Enfield’s The Hell Drivers, a dusty, bareknuckle 1957 British trucking-noir. There are also new FNF-funded prints of Repeat Performance (1947) and High Tide (1947), and a revival of Native Son (1951) starring author Richard Wright himself. But for rare pleasures, see next Wednesday’s 3-D double bill of Man in the Dark (1953), with Edmund O’Brien, and Inferno (1953), a survival film with Robert Ryan left to die in the desert by a scheming wife. It’s a rare noir in sunblasted color. (Through Thurs.) SIFF Cinema Uptown, 511 Queen Anne Ave. N., 324-9996, siff.net. $8–$13 ($45–$75 series). 7 & 9 p.m.

SEAN AXMAKER

sat/2/23 BOOKS

Serving Many Flags Quick, name a beloved female Secretary of State. No, not Hillary—think back to the ’90s, when her husband hired

Her quick-thinking diplomat father got the family to London ahead of Hitler, but in Albright’s version of events, he never told until decades later that the family was Jewish. Returning safely to Prague after the war, the Körbel family was again forced into exile—this time for good, in the United States—when the Communists took power.

As a result, the multilingual Albright was well-suited to study foreign affairs—not foreign to her—and to make diplomacy her career. When the Balkan wars broke out in the ’90s, she advised President Bill Clinton to take a hard line against the Serbs. By that time, of course, her old homeland had been split in two—another familial/political irony she can discuss today. Town Hall, 1119 Eighth Ave., 652-4255, spl.org. Free. 2 p.m.

BRIAN MILLER

OPERA

Victim of Passion

That Puccini’s La bohème has long been the world’s most popular opera is great for the box office, but a challenge for the singers: How can you possibly make your take on Rodolfo, played by every tenor from Pavarotti on down, stand out? Michael Fabiano, one of the two Rodolfos in the double-cast Seattle Opera production that opens tonight, shares his thoughts: “Knowing that all the greats have put their stamp on this role makes it a humbling task every time I step onstage. For me, Rodolfo has to be played strongly: in emotion, in charisma, in personal appeal, and in decorum. I don’t think Mimì would ever seek to find Rodolfo were he a wallflower and unattractive; she seeks him because she has been watching him and following him for a long time. So while their first moment together onstage is intimate, perhaps embarrassing for Mimì, Rodolfo’s sense of panache and excitement must ring clear. I think also important is that Rodolfo, while strong in many ways, is equally weak in others, and we see that progress through the piece, specifically in the last act, Mimì being the counterbalance to him, regardless of her physical ailments.

Rodolfo is at his core a sensitive man. The study process for me has shed light on this strong/weak juxtaposition; initially, I felt Rodolfo to be a whimsical character simply because of his poverty and lack of talent. But he’s not. He’s a man that, while a jokester with his buddies, is serious about his writing and deeply in love . . . often sharp-witted and totally passionate about his work and the people that he cares so much about.” (Ends March 10.) McCaw Hall, 321 Mercer St. (Seattle Center), 389-7676, seattleopera.org. $25 and up. 7:30 p.m. GAVIN BORCHERT

Seatt le w eekly • FEBRUARY 20−26, 2013

Although Sarah Rudinoff and Gretta Harley spent two years interviewing nearly 40 local rockers to create These Streets, it’s not a musical or documentary so much as a contemplative salute to the women of the grunge era.

The play’s fictional characters, each portrayed by two actresses as their past and present selves, had their lives and music intertwine in sometimes contentious ways during the flannel years. (The framing device is a series of podcast interviews that trigger flashbacks into past scenes and songs.) “I know people are going to go, ‘Oh, is that Kim Warnick? Is that Mia Zapata?’,” says Rudinoff, citing icons from the Fastbacks and the Gits. “But these are our own characters. I didn’t want a narrow, insider thing. I was more interested in what that whitehot spotlight did to everybody. We’re traveling through all that by looking over the shoulders of the women.” In addition to period tunes from the late ’80s–early ’90s (which the cast performs), there are original songs by Rudinoff and Harley. (The duo’s current band is We Are Golden; Harley was in Maxi Badd, among others, back in the day.) And cast member Imogen Love, an invaluable veteran of the city’s fringe scene (via the long-lost Empty Space Theatre,

MELINDA SUE GORDON

Conspicuously overlooked at the Oscars this weekend will be Paul Thomas Anderson, whose The Master impressed some critics—though not me—but earned none of the plaudits of his 2007 There Will Be Blood, nominated in eight categories. (The Master scored three, for the performances of Joaquin Phoenix, Philip Seymour Hoffman, and Amy Adams.) Daniel Day-Lewis won the Oscar for Blood, as he may do again for Lincoln, but Anderson will be smiling through clenched teeth. What went wrong from Blood to The Master? For starters, Phoenix’s drunken sailor and Hoffman’s quack prophet weren’t people. They had no depth, made no sense, never changed. They were just weird, frozen emblems of . . . some dialectic in Anderson’s head (he’s never one to explain such dyads, which I respect). Back in Blood, however, Day-Lewis’ Daniel Plainview was an implacable monster who retained some aspect of humanity. His adopted son inspired tenderness and protectiveness, and his toxic ambition created a plausible contest with huckster preacher Eli Sunday (Paul Dano). Oil versus faith turns out to be a different equation: money versus money.

Blood is a taming-of-the-frontier tale not so far removed from John Ford, where stereotypes turn to archetypes. Later in The Master, they simply become marble statues. Egyptian, 801

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Seattle weekly • FEBRU ARY 20− 26, 2 013

arts»Opening Nights Anna Karenina CENTER THEATRE AT THE ARMORY (SEATTLE CENTER), 216-0833, BOOK-IT.ORG. $25–$45. 7:30 P.M. WED.–SAT., 2 P.M. SAT.–SUN. ENDS MARCH 3.

A charming, unfulfilled wife, her fastidious, inattentive husband, and her obsessive, capricious lover. You know the story, set in decaying tsarist Russia. Tolstoy’s tragic tale has been adapted countless times (most recently with Keira Knightley). But adapters be warned: Unless you have something new to say about the majestic novel, keep out.

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Take control of your life with miraDry! Anna’s young son, Aaron Guthrie Sterne is heart-wrenching. The double-casting can be confusing, however, as when Tracy Hyland, who first appears as Anna’s sister-in-law Dolly, turns up later as a gossip-monger, and we don’t know if it’s Dolly again or some random socialite.

Director Mary Machala makes efficient, multi-zone use of Dan Schuy’s cavernous, minimalist set, suggestively floored like a chessboard. Marnie Cummings’ lighting helps to further divide space and reflect character—particularly during Anna’s lengthy final “mad scene.” Bleached in a harsh, lateral glare, she writhes with guilt, social rejection, drugs, and thwarted desire. Surprisingly, the scene worked. Given McKeon’s statement that “I do not like Anna Karenina” in the playbill, the scene almost seemed designed to torture and punish the famous adulterer.

If that’s not enough abuse, the coda to the Levin/Kitty romance only further effaces her sad story. MARGARET FRIEDMAN

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Anna (Grogan) and her Vronsky (Abernethy).

stage@seattleweekly.com

March 2

Khatia Buniatishvili Pianist to perform Chopin, Ravel, Schubert, and Stravinsky

March 6

Presenting House of Dreams, a multimedia Baroque program

March 7 November 1, 7:30pm Up to two Free Youth Tickets (ages 5-17 only) available with the purchase of a Regular Price ticket to Khatia Buniatishvili or Tafelmusik.

206-543-4880 | uwworldseries.org

Seatt le w eekly • FEBRUARY 20−26, 2013

Originally commissioned by Portland Center Stage, Kevin McKeon’s reduced Anna isn’t bad, once you’re past the annoying opening, when Anna (Emily Grogan) jarringly appropriates Tolstoy’s famous maxim that “All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”

Through rotating expository text and sensible vignettes (some heavy-handed), we get the Anna/Vronsky/Karenin dynamic. This main plot is interwoven with that of proleristocrat Levin (David Anthony Lewis), his conflicted ideals (a more egalitarian, science-based society, etc.), and his attraction to the rich, conventional Kitty (Sara Mountjoy-Pepka). The subplot about Levin’s sick brother Nikolai never carries its weight in adaptations (how much consumptive choking do audiences want to watch?). Book-It could have cut Nikolai from this nearly three-hour production (though Bill Ritchie does a fine job in the role).

Cast-wise, the love triangle works reasonably well. The pretty Grogan is a little undersexed for Anna, relying more on her Gibson-girl tragic eyes to do the seducing.

Andrew DeRycke may be the priggiest Karenin ever portrayed (his order to Anna to come to bed—“It is time”—economically suggests a gallows march for her), and he enjoys some funny, oversized comments. By contrast, Scott Ward Abernethy’s Vronsky is gratifyingly underplayed, leaving him almost as much a cipher for us as for Anna. Less successfully, Anna’s supposedly pleasure-grubbing brother Stiva is portrayed by gaunt, careworn Evan Whitfield, who looks like more of a Levin. As

Remember last November when Bill O’Reilly said that Mitt Romney’s defeat signaled the end of “traditional America?” Well, take heart: That world does still exist—albeit only onstage in this sterling production of The Music Man. Director Bill Berry makes this Technicolor trip down memory lane look effortless, and it’s because not a stitch is left out of place in recreating a Norman Rockwell/turn-of-the-lastcentury fantasia, replete with all the belles and barbershop harmonies of yesteryear.

The orchestra (under Joel Fram’s direction) is as crisp as a Disneyland parade; Bob Richard’s choreography innovates while also nodding to tradition; and Gregory Poplyk’s costumes continually surprise and delight.

Lights and sets (by Tom Sturge and Martin Christoffel, respectively) drench the stage in rich Crayola colors that evoke both imagination and memory.

None of that would matter without a cast that can sell this canned corn, which ought to be well past its due date. In this tale of traveling salesman Harold Hill (a nimble and winning Noah Racey), who overstays his welcome after winning the heart of the town librarian (nightingale Laura Griffith), not only are the leads spot-on, but the chorus and all the supporting roles pile on the pleasures.

Jeff Steitzer, who delivered such a memorable Scrooge two months ago at ACT, brings a whole new shade of crabby bluster to the mayor enthralled by Hill’s pied-piper racket.

Laura Kenny, as the mayor’s wife, animates her cartoon role with the kind of mugging that went out of vogue with silent pictures.

She’s a riot.

A lot has changed since Meredith Willson’s 1957 trifle won the Tony for Best Musical (beating West Side Story). The Music Man has been described as a relic of an era that never truly existed—or worse, cotton candy for the soul. Never mind the naysayers, because confections created as well as this will only leave you craving more. KEVIN PHINNEY E

Portuguese fado music’s bright young star

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arts»Performance Phil Lapsley: The Forgotten History of the Phone Phreaks (2/20)

B Y G AV I N B O R C H E R T

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Ignite Seattle! (2/20)

Lapsley/Ignite Double Feature!

One $5 ticket = two great events!

OPENINGS & EVENTS

ALMOST, MAINE A romantic comedy set in the titular

LUCO: Beethoven, Debussy & Shostakovich (2/22)

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SPL/EBBC: Madeleine Albright: ‘Prague Winter’ (2/23)

FEBRUARY 22-23

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2013 Urban Poverty Forum: Pacific Northwestern Tribal Poverty (2/24) Sustainable Path: Enlisting Nature to Stem Climate Change (2/27) Joe Janes: Documents That Changed the World (2/27) Paul Muldoon: Poems that Double as Rock Lyrics (2/28) ArtsCorps: YouthSpeaks Poetry Grand Slam (3/1) TOWN HALL

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Earshot Jazz PrEsENts Thu February 21

Tue February 26

Steve Kuhn

Polish Free-Jazz

Buster Williams, bass & Joey Baron, drums

w/

Shofar

fictional town. Presented by the SPU Theater Department.

E.E. Bach Theatre, McKinley Hall, 3307 Third Ave. W., 2812959, spu.edu. $6. 7:30 p.m. Tues., Feb. 26–Sat., March 2.

AL-STRAVAGANZA A burlesque revue set to the spoofs of Weird Al Yankovic. Starring Pearl E. Gates, Mistress Marla Spanx, and many others., sailorstclaire.com.

JewelBox/Rendezvous, 2322 Second Ave., 441-5823, jewelboxtheater.com. $12–$15. 7 & 8:30 p.m. Thurs., Feb. 21.

BLANK SLATE You are the playwright in Unexpected Production’s new improv show. Unexpected Productions Market Theater, 1428 Post Alley, 587-2414, unexpected productions.org. $7. Opens Feb. 21. 8:30 p.m. Thurs. Ends March 14.

BURIED CHILD SU’s theater department presents Sam Shepard’s dark comedy about family secrets. Seattle University, Lee Center for the Arts, 901 12th Ave., 296-5360, seattleu.edu. $6–$10. Opens Feb. 20. 7:30 p.m. Wed.–Sat., 2 p.m. Sun. Ends March 3.

FALSE PEACH Shakespeare is fed through a computer and algorithmically parsed in this high-tech collaboration between Annie Dorsen, Scott Shepherd, and Markov chains. On the Boards, 100 W. Roy St., 217-9886, onthe boards.org. $25. 8 p.m. Thurs., Feb. 21–Sun., Feb. 24.

I WON’T BE IGNORED Blood Squad, Seattle’s horrorimprov troupe, takes on the crazy-stalker film genre.

Balagan Theatre, 1117 E. Pike St., 800-838-3006, balagan theatre.org. $10. Opens Feb. 22. 11 p.m. Fri. Ends March 8.

IT GETS BETTER In this theatrical spinoff of Dan Savage’s online video project, LGBT youth tell their stories. The Moore, 1932 Second Ave., 877-784-4849, stgpresents.org. $12.50–$72.50. 8 p.m. Sat., Feb. 23.

NORTH STAR VAUD K. Brian Neel curated this neovaudeville show. Stage One Theater, 9600 College Way N., 527-3600, northseattle.edu. Pay what you can. Opens Feb. 22. 7:30 p.m. Fri.–Sat., 2 p.m. Sun.; also noon Wed., March 6. Ends March 10.

THE ODYSSEY OF HOMER OR, ONE THING AFTER ANOTHER Seattle Public Theater’s youth program

sends up the Greek epic. Seattle Public Theater at the Bathhouse, 7312 W. Green Lake Ave. N., 524-1300, seattle publictheater.org. Free. 7 p.m. Fri., Feb. 22, 2 & 7 p.m. Sat., Feb. 23, 2 p.m. Sun., Feb. 24.

PENTECOST David Edgar’s play explores art and ethnoreligious conflict. Jones Playhouse Theatre, 4045 University Way N.E., 543-4880, drama.washington.edu. $12–$20. Previews Feb. 20–21, opens Feb. 22. 7:30 p.m.

Wed.–Sat., 2 p.m. Sun. Ends March 3.

THESE STREETS SEE THE WIRE, PAGE 15.

TUXEDO MAN A solo show from Zack Hoffman as lounge singer “Nick Sands.” Seattle Creative Arts Center, 2601 N.W. Market St., seattlecreativearts.com. $20. 8 p.m. Fri., Feb. 22–Sat., Feb. 23; 2 p.m. Sun., Feb. 24.

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CURRENT RUNS Seattle weekly • FEBRU ARY 20− 26, 2 013

ALTAR BOYZ “Christian boy band”—this popular musical’s

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Macio Moretti, Raphael Roginski, Mikołaj Trzaska photo by Tomasz Dubiel

Steve Kuhn photo by John Rogers

PONCHO Concert Hall, 8pm Cornish College of the Arts Kerry Hall, 710 E. Roy Street Workshop/Masterclass at noon free and open to the public

Opening: from Australia

Peter Knight solo trumpet

The Royal Room, 7:30pm 5000 Rainier Avenue South

206.547.6763

www.earshot.org

about as high-concept as it gets. Seattle Musical Theatre, 7400 Sand Point Way N.E. # 101N, 363-2809, seattle musicaltheatre.org. $35–$40. 7:30 p.m. Fri.–Sat., 2 p.m.

Sun., plus 7:30 p.m. Thurs., March 7. Ends March 10.

ANNA KARENINA SEE REVIEW, PAGE 17.

A BEHANDING IN SPOKANE Like Ahab, a thug named Carmichael (Gordon Carpenter) is obsessed with finding justice for his lost limb in Martin McDonagh’s revenge comedy. This is not major McDonagh. Droll but uneven, Behanding is shallower than his The Pillowman or The Lieutenant of Inishmore. Yet he hasn’t lost his gift for endearingly weird monologues. MARGARET FRIEDMAN Theater Schmeater, 1500 Summit Ave., 324-5801, schmeater.org. $15–$23. 8 p.m. Thurs.–Sat. Ends Feb. 23.

CIRQUE DE SOLEIL: AMALUNA Inspired by The Tempest, this touring show isn’t heavy on plot. Kids will appreciate the acrobats, juggling, and costumes, and the traveling Grand Chapiteau—a climate-controlled, 2,600seat tent—adds to the spectacle. GWENDOLYN ELLIOTT Marymoor Park, 6046 W. Lake Sammamish Pkwy. N.E., Redmond, 800-450-1480. $43.50 and up. See cirquedusoleil. com for exact schedule. Ends March 24.

5 X TENN A quintet of one-acts by Tennessee Williams.

Stone Soup Downstage, 4029 Stone Way, 633-1883, stone souptheatre.org. $14–$25. 8 p.m. Thurs.–Sat., plus 4 p.m.

Sun., Feb. 24 & March 3. Ends March 9.

IMPROMPTU Music and theater, blended through improv.

Market Theater, 1428 Post Alley, 587-2414, unexpected productions.org. 8:30 p.m. Fri.–Sat. Ends March 30.

JEEVES IN BLOOM Directed by Karen Lund, Margaret Raether’s adaptation of several P.G. Wodehouse stories

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may appeal most to those who haven’t read the books or seen the definitive early-’90s BBC series starring Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry. Upper-class twit Bertie Wooster (Aaron Lamb) accompanies his newt-obsessed friend “Gussie” Fink-Nottle (Randy Scholz) to the home of Bertie’s pushy Aunt Dahlia (Kim Norris), in pursuit of ingénue Madeline (Marianna de Fazio), with whom Gussie is in love. It’s standard Wodehouse fare, but somehow lacking seasoning and definition for much of the run time.

Casting factors into the misfire. Lamb’s intelligent face cannot slacken enough to project Bertie’s good-natured indolence. His taut good looks constrain him to playing everything straight, relying mostly on the script for laughs.

Shimkus, meanwhile, maintains a stiff physical hauteur that seems anathema to Jeeves’ self-effacing professionalism. MARGARET FRIEDMAN Taproot Theatre, 204 N. 85th St., 781-9707, taproottheatre.org. $20–$40. 7:30 p.m.

Wed.–Thurs., 8 p.m. Fri., 2 & 8 p.m. Sat. Ends March 2.

JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR An all-female production seems a little out-there for Burien, but good for them.

Burien Little Theater, S.W. 146th St. and Fourth Ave. S.W., Des Moines, 242-5180, burienlittletheatre.org. $7–$20.

8 p.m. Fri.–Sat., 2 p.m. Sun. Ends March 24.

THE MOUSETRAP The first rule of Agatha Christie’s The Mousetrap is: You do not talk about The Mousetrap.

In this adorable production, wittily directed by Jeff Steizer, five guests arrive at Monkswell Manor during a snowstorm. Amid jockeying for rooms and spots by the fire, the inn’s population dwindles until a clever inspector (Jared Michael Brown) arrives on skis to investigate.

MARGARET FRIEDMAN Village Theatre, 303 Front St. N., Issaquah, 425-392-2202. $22–$63. Runs Wed.–Sun.; see villagetheatre.org for exact schedule. Ends Feb. 24 (then runs in Everett March 1–24).

THE MUSIC MAN SEE REVIEW, PAGE 17.

NEXT TO NORMAL From Issaquah to Broadway, nabbing a Pulitzer and a Tony or two, this rock musical returns home in Balagan’s production. Erickson Theatre Off Broadway, 1524 Harvard Ave., 329-1050. $20 and up. 8 p.m. Thurs.– Sat., 2 p.m. Sun., plus matinees; see balagantheatre.org for exact schedule. Ends March 2.

PHOTOGRAPH 51 In chauvinistic early–’50s London, scientist Rosalind Franklin works in the shadows of James Watson and Francis Crick, who claimed all the credit for describing our DNA. Her X-ray images helped reveal DNA’s double-helix structure; that much of Anna Ziegler’s praiseworthy 2008 drama is based on the historical record. The rest is invention, as Franklin (Kirsten Potter) rebuffs the romantic attentions of her boss her intellectually inferior boss (a role nicely self-effaced by Bradford Farwell). Problem is, the two are in a race with the Watson/Crick team, and Franklin’s refusal to cut deals in the lab will put them behind. The cocky young Dr. Watson (an excellent, wild-haired Benjamin Harris) begrudgingly validates her work in that shiftiest of ways—by stealing it. Rounding out the scientific community are Crick (M.J. Sieber); Franklin’s assistant Ray Gosling (endearing Brian Earp); and the closest thing to a real love interest, the American Don Caspar (Aaron Blakely), whose affections are the first and only that Franklin doesn’t shun. Braden Abraham directs the excellent production. MARGARET FRIEDMAN Seattle Repertory Theatre, Seattle Center, 4432222. $12–$70. Runs Tues.–Sun. plus some matinees; see seattlerep.org for exact schedule. Ends March 10.

TEATRO ZINZANNI: DINNER AT WOTAN’S Their new Norse-themed show. Teatro ZinZanni, 222 Mercer St., 8020015. $106 and up. See dreams.zinzanni.org for schedule of dinner shows and matinees. Ends May 12.

THAT’S FUCKED UP! This edgy variete compendium stars Nasty Canasta, Queen Shmooquan, Tootsie Spangles, and many more. Re-bar, 1114 Howell St., rebarseattle.com. $15–$20. 7:30 p.m. Fri.–Sat. Ends Feb. 23.

WAR HORSE This West End-to-Broadway-to-Spielberg smash tells the story of Albert, a poor English farm boy and his beloved foal, Joey, whom he raises then yields to the British cavalry for World War I. Albert enlists to find Joey; Joey tries to survive the horrors of the battlefield in France. The hard-luck horses are large-scale creations of South Africa’s Handspring Puppet Company, with people trotting inside, trying not to step in sentiment. Though it’s not a musical, the show does underscore the action and ply old English folk tunes. Is this The Lion King for adults?

Well . . . yeah. So? The horses—creatures of steel, leather and aircraft cables who prance, whinny, and toss their heads with graceful verisimilitude—are magnificent, summoning a heart-swell that Spielberg’s 2011 movie couldn’t quite muster. When the stage production’s Albert gallops

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Send events to stage@seattleweekly.com, dance@seattleweekly.com, or classical@seattleweekly.com See seattleweekly.com for full listings. = Recommended

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arts»Performance right up the theater aisle on top of Joey, it gives you the same buzz everybody got when that elephant lumbered toward the stage in the Disney musical. If you’re like me, you’ll shrug, give in, and have a good, dumb cry. Damn horse. STEVE WIECKING The Paramount, 911 Pine St., 877-784-4849. $25–$105. Runs Wed–Sun., see stgpresents. org for exact schedule. Ends Feb. 24.

Dance

CORNISH BFA CONCERTS Modern, ballet, jazz, and more

from Cornish students. Broadway Performance Hall, 1625 Broadway, cornish.edu. Free. 8 p.m. Thurs.–Fri., 2 & 8 p.m.

Sat. Ends Feb. 23.

BLACK GRACE When Neil Ieremia first started to incorporate his Maori heritage into contemporary dance, most audiences outside New Zealand had no idea what a haka was. Now the ritualized preparation for battle is all over YouTube, but Ieremia is still digging into history, this time with Vaka, combining the foundational Maori stories of their travel by canoe to the Land of the Long White Cloud with 19th-century genre paintings illustrating a different view of that historical moment. SANDRA KURTZ Meany Hall, UW campus, 543-4880, uwworldseries.org. $20–$45.

8 p.m. Thurs., Feb. 21–Sat., Feb. 23.

THE CABIRI Seattle’s aerial dance/theater company presents “Gods of the Night,” based on ancient tales from Babylonian celestial lore. Shorecrest Performing Arts Center, 15343 25th Ave. N.E., cabiri.org. $18–$22. 7:30 p.m.

Thurs., Feb. 21–Sat., Feb. 23.

KHAMBATTA DANCE Cyrus Khambatta’s troupe premieres Truth & Betrayal. Kirkland Performance Center, 350 Kirkland Ave., Kirkland, 425-893-9900, kpcenter.org, phffft. org. $25. 7:30 p.m. Fri., Feb. 22.

HOT MESS “Modern-dance mayhem” with new works by Rachel Grant, Kaitlin McCarthy, and Jenny Peterson.

Velocity Dance Center, 1621 12th Ave., 800-838-3006, brown papertickets.com. $15–$25. 8 p.m. Fri., Feb. 22–Sat., Feb. 23.

WAYWARD SISTERS Seattle Dance Company has collaborated with all kinds of music ensembles in the past few years, from chamber-opera songs to string-quartet versions of Beatles tunes, so this new alliance with Pacific MusicWorks should feel right at home. “Wayward Sisters” pairs a vocal trio with a kinetic one, with choreography by early-dance specialist Anna Mansbridge to 17th-century Italian music and a contemporary piece by composer Karen P. Thomas, based on poetry by Andrew Marvell. SANDRA KURTZ Langston Hughes Performing Arts Center, 104 17th Ave. S., 465-8316, pacificmusicworks. org. $20–$40. 8 p.m. Fri., Feb. 22–Sat., Feb. 23.

CARMONA FLAMENCO Music, dance, and poetry. Cafe Solstice, 4116 University Way N.E., 932-4067, carmona2@ comcast.net. $15–$20. 8 & 9:30 p.m. Sat., Feb. 23.

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Classical, Etc.

SEATTLE SYMPHONY SEE THE SHORT LIST, PAGE 32.

•SEATTLE SYMPHONY Recently deceased composer/

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Rembrandt, Van Dyck, Gainsborough: The Treasures of Kenwood House, London is organized by the American Federation of Arts and English Heritage. It is supported by an indemnity from the Federal Council on the Arts and the Humanities, with additional funding from the Samuel H. Kress Foundation. In-kind support is provided by Barbara and Richard S. Lane.

Seattle Presenting Sponsor

Image credit: Portrait of the Artist (detail), ca.

1665, Rembrandt van Rijn, Dutch, 1606-1669, oil on canvas, 45 3/4 x 38 1/4 in., Kenwood House, English Heritage; Iveagh Bequest (88028836), Photo courtesy American Federation of Arts.

Seatt le w eekly • FEBRUARY 20−26, 2013

arranger Marvin Hamlisch is honored with a program of his hits. Benaroya Hall, 200 University St., 215-4747, seattle symphony.org. $19–$95. 7:30 p.m. Thurs., Feb. 21, 8 p.m.

Fri., Feb. 22, 2 & 8 p.m. Sat., Feb. 23, 2 p.m. Sun., Feb. 24.

LAKE UNION CIVIC ORCHESTRA Beethoven, Debussy, and Shostakovich (his precocious and cheeky Symphony no. 1). Town Hall, 1119 Eighth Ave., luco.org. $13–$18. 7:30 p.m. Fri., Feb. 22.

SPU WIND SYMPHONY SEE SEVEN NIGHTS, PAGE 34.

WAYWARD SISTERS SEE DANCE CALENDAR, ABOVE. BAINBRIDGE SYMPHONY Outdoorsy music by Smetana and Beethoven. Bainbridge Performing Arts, 200 Madison Ave. N., Bainbridge Island, 842-8569, bainbridgeperforming arts.org. $16–$19. 3 p.m. Sat., Feb. 23–Sun., Feb. 24.

SEATTLE WIND SYMPHONY Music by Alfred Reed, John Barnes Chance, and other band-repertory bigwigs. First Free Methodist Church, 3200 Third Ave. W., 800-838-3006, seattlewindsymphony.org. $5–$20. 7 p.m. Sat., Feb. 23.

LA BOHÉME SEE THE WIRE, PAGE 15.

MUSIC OF EMILY DOOLITTLE Chamber music by the Cornish faculty composer. Cornish College/PONCHO Concert Hall, 710 E. Roy St., 726-5066, cornish.edu. $10–$20. 7 p.m. Sun., Feb. 24.

MEDIEVAL WOMEN’S CHOIR A preview of their March 2 program, “From Santiago to Canterbury.” Seattle Central Library, 1000 Fourth Ave., medievalwomenschoir.org. Free.

Noon, Tues., Feb. 26.

CRISTINA VALDES From a new-music standpoint, Seattle’s busiest and most valuable pianist. She’ll play music by UW faculty composers Huck Hodge, Richard Karpen, and others. Meany Hall, UW campus, 543-4880, music.washington.edu. $12–$20. 7:30 p.m. Tues., Feb. 26.

OPERA ON TAP Opera favorites from energetic young singers in an informal setting—this time, an emphasis on baroque rep with string-quartet accompaniment. Conor Byrne, 5140 Ballard Ave. N.W., operaontap.com/seattle. $5. 8 p.m. Tues., Feb. 26.

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film»This Week’s Attractions American. Film. Week RUNS FRI., FEB. 22–THURS. FEB. 28 AT NORTHWEST FILM FORUM.

MAGNET RELEASING

Not what they seem: Williamson (left) and Giamatti in John Dies at the End.

have to lie.” And where’s their mother? Tom is vague and shifty about that, walking off alone to make angry, mysterious calls on his flip-phone (a box full of Polaroids also gives the film an ’80s vibe). There’s talk of a job in California, but their path from Connecticut is awfully meandering. When one kid scribbles a “Help, we’re being kidnapped!” note in the car window, you’re not so sure it’s in jest.

With a younger brother and an older teen sister, 12-year-old Greta (Ryan Simpkins) is the film’s real protagonist. It’s through her eyes that we see Tom—and grow to doubt him. Greta clamps on headphones to shut out the world with the Smiths (again, ’80s?), but she also wanders away from a hotel to peer at the sordid adult world. She’s almost ready for boys, makeup, and nail polish, even while dragging around a stuffed rabbit. That tooconspicuous childhood token unfortunately typifies director Olivia Silver’s debut feature.

She clearly wants to invest this awkward family road trip with meaning, but most of it seems banal, ordinary. (When Tom gets the kids to sing the theme from Rawhide, it’s like a bizarre re-enactment of National Lampoon’s Vacation.)

The pedestrian writing—“I’m sorry I don’t have all the answers”—doesn’t help an already uneventful trip.

I’ve driven across the U.S. several times, but the 91-minute Arcadia feels like a longer ride.

(Silver will attend the screening.) BRIAN MILLER

Bless Me, Ultima OPENS FRI., FEB. 22 AT MERIDIAN. RATED PG-13. 102 MINUTES.

I’ve never read Rudolfo Anaya’s 1972 comingof-age novel Bless Me, Ultima, the tale of a Hispanic schoolboy in a small New Mexico town during World War II. But I know it’s considered a landmark of Chicano literature, and that generally means a devotional, earnest adaptation.

On one hand, this is an often-lovely story of growing up Hispanic in America, as seen through the amber-lit idealization of childhood memory and framed by the narration of the grown Antonio (Alfred Molina). On the other, it’s a struggle of good and evil between Ultima (Miriam Colón), a wise old medicine

woman (or curandera) alternately sought and shunned by her community, and tyrannical landowner Tenorio (Castulo Guerra), a fiery villain who never evolves beyond cliché. He’s an angry, vindictive killer who dominates the town. Meanwhile, the wise-beyond-his-years Antonio (Luke Ganalon), the youngest in a sprawling clan scattered by war service, tries to work through the contradictions of a culture that publicly embraces Catholicism but quietly preserves the folklore and spiritual beliefs of its pre-Christian heritage.

Director Carl Franklin has always been savvy about race and culture in America in films like One False Move and Devil in a Blue Dress. He brings a heartfelt commitment to the story and to young Antonio’s perspective, as when Ultima’s magic makes more sense to him than the fear of God the local priest tries to instill. Franklin is sensitive to the way boys interact, bump chests, bicker, and bond—just as he is to how adults justify their hypocrisy and excuse their failures.

Still, he fails to develop his characters into fully realized personalities, resorting to symbolism over human drama and magical realism over social culture. Yet in its quiet moments of conversation and reflection, especially between Antonio and his father (Benito Martinez, offering the film’s most nuanced and understated character), Bless Me, Ultima can deliver profound, simple lessons. The rest is a storybook evocation of youth, darkened by the future disappointments of adulthood. SEAN AXMAKER

John Dies at the End OPENS FRI., FEB. 22 AT VARSITY. RATED R. 99 MINUTES.

In the realm of sci-fi-horror-comedy, the duo of Sam Raimi and Bruce Campbell are a hard pair to top. Raimi’s zany, monster-filled movies and Campbell’s corny one-liners have dominated the genre since 1981’s The Evil Dead.

Director Don Coscarelli has been around just as long as Raimi (his Phantasm came out two years before The Evil Dead), though working to less acclaim. Much like his 2002 Bubba Ho-Tep (which coincidentally starred Campbell), John Dies at the End is a somewhat muddled story full of undead creatures and face-bending special effects. There’s even a wooden-handed love interest, per-

Mumia: Long Distance Revolutionary RUNS FRI., FEB. 22–THURS. FEB. 28 AT GRAND ILLUSION. NOT RATED. 120 MINUTES.

The crux of Mumia comes midway through this partisan documentary about Mumia AbuJamal, the convicted Philadelphia cop killer who’s become a celebrated writer during his three decades on death row (a sentence commuted to life last year). Through Mumia’s first half, drawing on interviews with Cornel West, Alice Walker, Amy Goodman, and others, director Stephen Vittoria recounts the racism that pervaded Philly in the ’70s, when journalist Abu-Jamal became personally involved in the civil-rights stories he was covering. In this way, Vittoria creates a tantalizing tension as we approach the 1981 shooting, seeing AbuJamal’s radicalization in advance and knowing his lonely future fate.

As a result, it’s absolutely befuddling and nearly fatal to the doc when Vittoria spends a scant two minutes describing the killing of officer Daniel Faulkner. And most of that is taken up with Abu-Jamal’s account of how rough police were when they arrested him and of racist remarks supposedly made by the judge at his trial. From then on, any claim of Abu-Jamal as a political prisoner—a claim Mumia repeats endlessly—rings completely hollow. Vittoria is unwilling to grapple with the hard questions raised by the case. Outside accounts make Abu-Jamal’s innocence seem farfetched, but Vittoria omits those sources.

But what if he’s a murderer who also has a prophet’s insight into our nation’s racial and judicial ills? Guilty or no, he’s clearly a singular intellect and writer.

A more straightforward doc might’ve brought Abu-Jamal’s writings to a wider audience. As it is, Mumia is red meat for the left and little more. (Note: Producer Noelle Hanrahan will conduct a Q&A at the Friday and Saturday evening shows.) DANIEL PERSON E film@seattleweekly.com

Seatt le w eekly • FEBRUARY 20−26, 2013

Strangely punctuated, this Amerindie series offers seven films in seven nights. I had time to watch two in advance.

Who is Eddie Pepitone? The veteran standup performer came late to the alt-comedy party, earning a slot at Bumbershoot 2010.

He tours rarely, and isn’t exactly a camerafriendly presence. Now in his mid-50s, fat and bald, he’s like a cross between Lewis Black and Wallace Shawn—a mock-angry cherub who rages mainly against himself. At Bumbershoot, one gag went like this: Look at me, I’m so fat, I’m so pathetic, I’m so old, “I have an eating shirt!” At other shows, he comes down into the audience to heckle himself.

Steven Feinartz’s documentary The Bitter Buddha (8 p.m. Sat.) is plainly intended to boost Pepitone’s career, and it’s filled with gushing testimonials from his younger, more famous colleagues. These include Zach Galifianakis, Sarah Silverman, and Patton Oswalt, who says Pepitone’s authenticity stems from “decades of fear and failure.” And Oswalt says that like it’s a good thing: from suffering, art.

There is Pekar-esque pathos as Feinartz follows Pepitone on his Los Angeles comedy rounds—honking at motorists, performing on small stages, trying to land TV gigs, cursing at his computer, and playing with the many cats in his cluttered apartment. (There’s a girlfriend, so his life isn’t entirely sad.) His buddies like Oswalt and Marc Maron may admire Pepitone, but I’m not sure they can identify with his flop sweat and obscurity. He’s their pet project, their not-quite-charity case.

And where has Pepitone been the past three decades? We see a few videos from the ’80s, suggesting some kind of Brecht/Richard Foreman performance-art background, and there’s mention of his being “off his meds” and “drinking and smoking”—smoking what, we wonder. Besides introducing Pepitone’s now-proud father back on Staten Island, The Bitter Buddha doesn’t delve into the past. But if you need proof that Pepitone is part of the comedy present—yes, he’s even on Twitter.

(Note: Feinartz and Pepitone will appear at the screening for a Q&A. Pepitone will also perform at Laff Hole at Chop Suey, 1325 E. Madison St., peoplesrepublicofkomedy.com, $10, 9 p.m. Wed., Feb. 20.)

After The Sessions, Martha Marcy May Marlene, and Winter’s Bone, John Hawkes has finally graduated from “that guy” to “that Oscar-nominated guy!” He’s got a seasoned, sinewy intensity, with a muscular squint to rival Clint Eastwood’s, but a gentle core. He’s Zen-still at his center, and his acting shrugs off excess—like some cheap, gaudy garment that doesn’t fit him.

I am not sure, however, that Hawkes should alone be carrying a movie. In The Sessions, he had colorful help from Helen Hunt and William H. Macy. In Arcadia (8 p.m. Fri.), he’s essentially surrounded by child actors while playing Tom, a harried father driving his clan across the country in an old Chevy station wagon. Tom is not a terrific father. He tries hard, but he also gets into a traffic altercation that leads to the police station. Say what I told you, he instructs the kids—“Sometimes you

haps a nod to Campbell’s Ash character in the Evil Dead trilogy.

As in David Wong’s source novel, college dropouts David (a hammy Chase Williamson) and John (Rob Mayes) embark on a time-traveling quest to save humanity from a colony of parasitic spores that has invaded Earth. There’s your plot, which allows Coscarelli to indulge his love of body-chomping aliens and oversized, Kafkaesque insects.

Dave and John have a Bill-and-Ted chemistry, only with more deadpan. (This to an alien: “Have you ever heard the old human expression, ‘I want to shoot you so bad my dick’s hard’?”) Paul Giamatti’s small role as a newspaper reporter contributes a trace of gravity to the messy story—then we find out that . . . well, let’s just say things aren’t what they seem. Per the title, some characters die, but death is never a final obstacle in a monster movie. Anyone/thing can be resurrected.

Clearly intended to be a wacky cult movie, John Dies falls short of the Raimi/Campbell standard. And with a Raimi-less Evil Dead reboot coming in April (with Diablo Cody one of its writers), Coscarelli’s latest comedy will likely be overshadowed again, relegated to midnight-movie status. GWENDOLYN ELLIOTT

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filtering the best of T! ES W H T R O N E H T

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BY BRIAN MILLER

Local Film

• ACADEMY AWARDS PARTY Three Dollar Bill

Cinema will host a fun, drinky benefit party for its own valuable film programs and the charitable work of Gay City Health Project. 21 and over. The Social, 1715 E. Olive Way, threedollarbillcinema.org $25-$75, Sun., Feb. 24, 4 p.m.

CENTRAL CINEMA OSCAR PARTY Food, drink, and a general air of loving irreverence should characterize this get-together. If you actually think Seth MacFarlane is a good choice for host, keep that opinion to yourself. Central Cinema, $6-$8, Sun., Feb. 24, 5 p.m.

MIDNIGHT HORROR Call the tavern, or just drop by, to see what random gore flicks are playing in this ongoing series. Plus drink specials! (NR) Comet Tavern, 922 E. Pike St., 322-9272, comettavern.com, Free, Thurs.-Sun. MOVING TARGET/DEADLY PREY Ernest Borgnine and Linda Blair star in 1988’s Moving Target, a girl-on-therun picture being presented for the Bad Movie Art series. Second on the double-bill is Deadly Prey (1987), allegedly some kind of Rambo ripoff, about renegade mercenaries who, while hunting street people for sport, run afoul of a shirtless loner (Ted Prior). Extra bonus: Troy Donahue has a small supporting role. (R) Central Cinema, $6-$8, Wed., Feb. 20, 7 p.m.

NOIR CITY SEE THE WIRE, PAGE 15.

NOTHING BUT A MAN Ivan Dixon and Abbey Lincoln star as a young African-American couple trying to keep their marriage together despite economic inequality and racial bias in this well-regarded drama from 1964. Michael Roemer, who would go on to make the cult favorite The Plot Against Harry, directs. (NR) Northwest Film Forum, $6-$10, Feb. 22-28, 7 & 9 p.m.

THE PEOPLE SPEAK Howard Zinn provides the narration for this omnibus doc inspired by his A People’s History of the United States. (NR) Keystone Congregational Church, 5019 Keystone Place N., 6326021, keystoneseattle.org, Free, Fri., Feb. 22, 7 p.m.

THE ROOM: Tommy Wiseau stars in this 2003 train wreck/ego trip, now a certified cult movie. (R) Central Cinema, $6-$8, Thu., Feb. 21, 8 p.m.

THE SECRET OF NIMH This 1982 animated take on Robert C. O’Brien’s 1971 children’s novel Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH ought to elicit plenty of nostalgia from those raised during the VHS years. In it, a field mouse befriends genius lab rats and overcomes adversity. (G) Central Cinema, $6-$8, Feb. 22-23, 7 p.m.; Feb. 25-27, 7 p.m.

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SOUTH ASIAN INTERNATIONAL DOCUMENTARY FESTIVAL Local organization Tasveer is programming

seven docs over two days. Subjects include surrogate mothers, the ongoing partition of Kashmir, and kidnapping in Pakistan. See tasveer.org for full schedule and details. (NR). SIFF Cinema at the Film Center, 305 Harrison St. (Seattle Center), $10-$15, Sat., Feb. 23, noon; Sun., Feb. 24, noon.

Seattle weekly • FEBRU ARY 20− 26, 2 013

THE SPROCKET SOCIETY’S SATURDAY SECRET MATINEES “Exotic Lands” is the February theme

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for various short films being screened. Ongoing is the 1939 adventure serial Zorro’s Fighting Legion.

Total program length is about two hours. (NR) Grand Illusion, $5-$8, Saturdays, 2 p.m. Through March 23.

THERE WILL BE BLOOD SEE THE WIRE, PAGE 15.

TRUE ROMANCE The late Tony Scott directs this very colorful, wish-fulfillment crime caper about a comic-book store clerk (Christian Slater) who falls for a lovely hooker (Patricia Arquette) while falling even deeper into the company of drug dealers and killers.

Written by Quentin Tarantino, the famously self-educated former video-store clerk, the 1993 True Romance is full of long monologues, pop-culture references, and some fairly delicious acting. Look for Dennis Hopper, Gary Oldman, Christopher Walken, Samuel J. Jackson, and Brad Pitt among the eccentric and highly entertaining criminal crew. (R) Central Cinema, $6-$8, Feb. 22-23, 9:30 p.m.; Feb. 25-27, 9:30 p.m.

VIVA L’ITALIA Best but incompletely described as a black comedy, the 1962 Mafioso has a Sicilian efficiency expert (Alberto Sordi), successfully settled up in Milan, return to his homeland to show his family how things have changed down south. Needless to say, they haven’t. (NR) Seattle Art Museum, 1300 First Ave., 654-3100, seattleartmuseum.org, $63-$68 series, $8 individual, Thursdays, 7:30 p.m. Through March 7.

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

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Ongoing AMOUR Hollywood generally treats aging as an enno-

bling process, a time of gauzy reflection or an opportunity to transmit sage wisdom to tow-headed grandkids.

This is not a view shared by Austrian director Michael Haneke. From Funny Games to The Piano Teacher to Caché, he has specialized in an impeccably crafted cinema of cruelty, repressed passion, and dread. So it’s something of a shock for his Amour to begin as a loving portrait of a marriage between retired music teachers Georges and Anne (Jean-Louis Trintignant and Emmanuelle Riva), who remain independent in their 80s, living in a comfy, memento-filled Parisian apartment. Amour’s story is nothing if not logical and familiar: the medical crisis, doctors, the daughter’s visit, nurses, rehab, moments of resiliency and love, the “never take me back to the hospital” demand, setbacks, adult diapers, despair. Haneke renders Georges and Anne’s dilemma with dispassionate, clinical observation. Amour often plays like a Frederick Wiseman documentary. (PG-13) Brian Miller Egyptian, Sundance Cinemas, Lynwood (Bainbridge Is.) ARGO Ben Affleck’s third directorial effort begins with the November 4, 1979, attack on the U.S. embassy in Tehran. While 52 Americans are held hostage, six embassy workers manage to escape, ultimately hiding out at the home of Canadian ambassador (Victor Garber). Determined to smuggle the houseguests out of Iran by disguising them as a film crew on a location scout, CIA exfiltration expert Tony Mendez (Affleck) enlists the help of John Chambers (John Goodman), a movie makeup artist, and Lester Siegel (Alan Arkin), an old-school producer. Between hokey wisecracks ribbing industry idiocy, the trio seizes on a dusty script for a Star Wars rip-off called Argo. Affleck’s movie doesn’t reflect who we are now so much as it argues for what Hollywood can be. It’s a love letter from Affleck to the industry that made him, shunned him, and loves nothing more than to be loved. (R) Karina Longworth Varsity, Oak Tree, Meridian, others BEAUTIFUL CREATURES Richard LaGravenese’s adaptation of Kami Garcia and Margret Stohl’s teenoriented novel (the first in a series known as the Caster Chronicles) follows star-crossed South Carolina teen lovers Ethan (Alden Ehrenreich), a mortal, and Lena (Alice Englert), a burgeoning witch (or “caster”) whose powers await full activation, with the future of mankind somehow in the balance. This may or may not have something to do with her virginity. Why does the world’s fate hinge on this one teen witch? Beautiful Creatures isn’t keen on plot; it just provides a little backstory about each new character, then moves on to the next grandiose explosion of magic. The film is mostly driven by spotty narration, bad Southern accents, small-town stereotypes, and tween notions of love. The veteran actors are most enjoyable here, as they go wildly over the top with their thin roles.

Jeremy Irons (as Lena’s haute-gothic uncle) and Emma Thompson (doubly cast as witch and Bible-thumper) gleefully ham it up for their franchise-film paychecks.

Only Viola Davis, as a wise librarian, offers a grounded performance. (PG-13) Ma’chell Duma LaVassar Oak Tree, Kirkland Parkplace, Lincoln Square, Cinebarre, Pacific Place, others DJANGO UNCHAINED In Quentin Tarantino’s blood-spattered historical tent show, set in antebellum Dixieland, Jamie Foxx stars as the captured runaway slave Django. He’s given his freedom by an unlikely savior: a German-American bounty hunter (Christoph Waltz) who trains Django to become his partner.

Together, they make their way toward a sprawling Mississippi plantation known as Candyland, where Django’s wife (Kerry Washington) is owned by a brutal, foppish master (Leonardo DiCaprio), abetted by his old house slave (the astonishing Samuel L. Jackson).

Wagnerian hellfire ensues, though Tarantino’s true reference point is a century of Hollywood cinema’s failure to engage with the ugly realities of the “peculiar institution,” from Gone With the Wind to Spielberg’s Lincoln. (R) Scott Foundas Lincoln Square, Meridian, Thornton Place, others 56 UP In Michael Apted’s seventh follow-up in the famed British documentary series, begun in 1964, well-off barrister Andrew declares, “There is still a class system, but it’s based on financial success. It’s been ever thus, and I don’t think it’s ever going to change.” Echoing him is Lynn, a working-class East Ender who cycled through various social-work positions before being made redundant. The Labor Party has failed, she says, and others from her circle share that view, criticizing Thatcher and David Cameron for weakening the welfare state. After the Beatles, Margaret Thatcher, and Tony Blair, 56 Up’s subjects seem rather pessimistic, if not quite bitter, about the UK’s enduring inequali-

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Emily (Rooney Mara) waits for her husband Martin (Channing Tatum) to be released from jail after a fouryear term for insider trading. (Only in the movies, it seems, does the SEC have any teeth.) Understandably, Emily is depressed, and she’s on a lot of pills. Her new shrink, Dr. Banks (Jude Law), provides suicidal Emily with modest meds and a sympathetic ear. Then he enrolls her in a clinical trial that will, conveniently, provide him some much-needed extra income. Disaster follows, and Banks’ career is in ruin. As Side Effects becomes a medical-legal procedural, with lawyers, courtroom testimony, and flashbacks, you could imagine a different set of actors—perhaps Fred MacMurray and Barbara Stanwyck—in an older, black-and-white version of the same script, with the same enjoyable plot twists. I mean this respectfully, since Soderbergh is a Hollywood classicist, but Side Effects ultimately feels like a remake. And if that’s the way he chooses to end his career, fine. Side Effects embodies the pleasures of the familiar, if not the discoveries of his past.

(R) Brian Miller SIFF Cinema Uptown, Sundance, Kirkland Parkplace, Lincoln Square, Majestic Bay, Cinebarre, Pacific Place, others SILVER LININGS PLAYBOOK If you took the fighting out of The Fighter, David O. Russell’s previous movie, you’d be left with a close, fractious family like the Solitanos of his hugely appealing new Silver Linings Playbook. Instead of Boston Irish and boxing, we have Philadelphia Italian and the Eagles. The family patriarch (a fine, restrained Robert De Niro) is an OCD bookie bound by strange rituals to the team; his wide-eyed wife (Jacki Weaver) is the nervous family conciliator/enabler; and their volatile son Pat (Bradley Cooper, wired) is fresh out of the nuthouse with a restraining order from his ex. But Pat claims he’s a new—and newly positive—man. He’s looking for those silver linings through self-improvement: reading, running, losing weight, scheming to win back his wife. Is another explosion near? Russell keeps the film constantly off-balance, but his pell-mell approach suits the story of Pat’s mania and wrong-footed romance with young widow Tiffany. In that role, Jennifer Lawrence is a revelation: tough, proud, and even more titanic in her instability than Pat. Silver Linings is one of the year’s best films, and Lawrence a lock for an Oscar nomination. (R) Brian Miller SIFF Cinema Uptown, Seven Gables, Kirkland Parkplace, Lincoln Square, Majestic Bay, Vashon, Cinebarre, Pacific Place ZERO DARK THIRTY Director Kathryn Bigelow and screenwriter Mark Boal’s unofficial sequel toThe Hurt Locker dramatizes the manhunt for Osama bin Laden; and from the major details to the smallest ones, the reporting is so good you scarcely question a beat.

Jessica Chastain gives a sensational performances as Maya, a young CIA officer newly arrived in Pakistan, where her responsibilities include interrogating detained Al Qaeda. “Enhanced” measures such as waterboarding and starvation are depicted, and without any of the moral outrage some might expect from a Hollywood treatment of this subject. Rather, Bigelow and Boal come not to judge but to show, leaving the rest up to us. This is superb journalism and even better filmmaking, culminating in an electrifying re-enactment of the 2011, raid on bin Laden’s Pakistan hideout. But what impresses most about Zero Dark Thirty is the long time it spends in the middle distance, immersing us in the workaday lives of agents and analysts who sacrifice much in the name of something bigger than themselves. (R) Scott Foundas Varsity, Lincoln Square, Meridian, others THEATERS: Admiral, 2343 California Ave. SW, 9383456; Ark Lodge Cinemas, 4816 Rainier Ave. S, 721-3156; 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)., 425-6727501; 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., 5233935; Guild 45, 2115 N. 45th St., 781-5755; Harvard Exit, 807 E. Roy St., 781-5755; iPic Theaters, 16451 N.E. 74th St. (Redmond), 425-636-5601; 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., 267-5380; 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 Uptown, 511 Queen Anne Ave. N., 324-9996; SIFF Film Center, 305 Harrison St. (Seattle Center), 3249996; Sundance Cinemas, 4500 Ninth Ave NE, 6330059; Thornton Place, 301 NE 103rd St., 517-9953; Varsity, 4329 University Way NE, 781-5755.

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Seatt le w eekly • FEBRUARY 20−26, 2013

ties. Apted is a sympathetic, off-camera presence. He lobs questions in 56 Up yet resists any overview or analysis. Each individual story subsumes the issue of class. Apted is more interested in coping than social advancement, how his subjects—rich and poor— adapt to their circumstances. He and his subjects are all on a friendly first-name basis by now. In a real sense, they’re our friends, too (and also minor celebrities in England, thanks to a wide TV audience). And what do we do when reuniting with old friends—fill out questionnaires and filter the results in a computer? No, we trade stories. 56 Up isn’t science, but it satisfies with the slow, steady turning of life’s ordinary pages.

(NR) Brian Miller Guild 45th A GOOD DAY TO DIE HARD Tellingly, the fifth Die Hard movie has been released during the Hollywood dead zone, between the holidays and Academy Awards. If the studio believed in it, Fox would put the movie out on Memorial Day. If Bruce Willis believed in it (rather than just believing in the paycheck), he’d be promoting it enthusiastically on the talk shows. And if he actually cared about the 25-year-old franchise, beyond the money, he’d have demanded a better script and director. But none of that happened, and A Good Day to Die Hard is essentially DOA, delivering none of the wisecracks or memorable villainy of the 1988 original. Still on the NYPD at an age when most officers retire, John McClane (Willis, in coasting mode) receives news that his ne’er-do-well son Jack (Aussie actor Jai Courtney, of the Spartacus TV series) is in a Moscow jail, being held for murder. McClane jumps on a plane, setting out to save his child. Jack soon liberates a Khodorkovskystyle oligarch (Sebastian Koch) from detention. The rest of the movie essentially consists of that trio shooting and fleeing and double-crossing, with an assist from the oligarch’s daughter (Yuliya Snigir). Many guns are fired, many cars are destroyed, and there’s a whole bunch of flying glass. Directed by cheap Irishman John Moore, A Good Day to Die Hard can’t even be bothered to be mediocre. Mediocre would take work, and no one here is interested in actual work. (R) Brian Miller Cinebarre, Cinerama, Kirkland Parkplace, Lincoln Square, Meridian, Thornton Place, Sundance Cinemas, others HAPPY PEOPLE: A YEAR IN THE THE TAIGA Shot

by Russian filmmaker Dmitry Vasyukov but narrated and edited by Werner Herzog, this Siberian-set documentary follows a pair of fur trappers through four seasons of hard labor. Herzog, predictably, fetishizes their purity and simplicity of life. “They are truly selfsufficient,” he purrs. “They are truly free.” He barely acknowledges the trappers’ snowmobiles and boats with outboard engines, concentrating instead on how they make (other) boats of wood and craft their own birch skis. When one little village girl goes out to harvest pine nuts with her father, who wields an amusingly Thor-size mallet, Herzog declines to comment on her Pokémon T-shirt. The bearded trappers, it must be said, have less charisma than their faithful dogs. Unlike Herzog’s great and horrifying Grizzly Man (another found-footage exercise), there is no crazy charismatic Timothy Treadwell figure at this doc’s center. These taciturn woodsmen are merely specimens for Herzog to examine. Does he approve of the fur trade, killing sables for fashion? He doesn’t say. Still Still, he does stop to consider the indigenous Ket people, something like our own Inuit, largely decimated by Soviet-era policies, poverty, and alcoholism. “It’s our own fault,” says one sad tribal member, and their lined, weary faces remind you of Edward S. Curtis’ Indian portraits. (NR) Brian Miller Varsity LINCOLN Our 16th president becomes an almost 4-D character made flesh by Daniel Day-Lewis, arguably the best actor of his generation. The challenge for director Steven Spielberg is to square the Georgia white marble of the Lincoln Memorial with the fleshand-blood reality we can never really know—evoking the man without diminishing the leader. His other challenges include relating the complications and subtleties of political maneuvering, and the inherent suckiness of the biopic form. Spielberg solves that by lensing the portrait through a single event: the fight to pass the 13th Amendment. The film is studied and often somber, but it is also hugely entertaining, a bitchingly fun story of political gamesmanship, influence trading, patronage, cronyism, and outright bribery. This Lincoln is quietly ironic, an indulgent storyteller, a hugely charismatic leader. Day-Lewis is just crazy good. (PG-13) Chris Packham Guild 45th, Lincoln Square, Bella Pacific Place, Kirkland, others SIDE EFFECTS Steven Soderbergh is a total filmmaker who handles his own camera, but is only as good as his script. And this big pharma/crime tale by Scott Z. Burns (Contagion, The Bourne Ultimatum) is not a great script. Yet it starts out smartly enough, as

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Tangled Out of View

In a Magnolia alleyway, the weathervane is fine.

HANNA RASKIN

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with pomegranate. The dishes with less exotic provenances were among the few that disappointed: The King salmon used for the tartare was beautifully fatty, but the fish was slugged with too much additional oil, and its clean flavors were partially clouded by the horseradish crackers and pickled fennel that completed the presentation. A simple soup of celery root and potato, drizzled with crème fraiche and watercress pesto, was too sheer and acidic for a wintry day. It might have made a fine sauce for a hunk of halibut.

JOSHUA HUSTON

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shoppers commonly opt for frozen scallops treated with chemicals and even more water than their packaging reveals: Bay scallops in a bag sold at a Massachusetts Walmart for $5.98 clocked in at 91 percent moisture. By contrast, weathervane scallops—the largest in the world—are frozen at sea, before food chemists can mangle them with additives.

The scallops’ luxe meat is soft and supple as a late-summer peach.

Weathervanes—considered a “best choice” by Monterey Bay Aquarium’s Seafood Watch program, which blesses the fish whose harvest is least harmful to the environment—offer scads of sweet, buttery flavors. Kessenich accepts the gift gracefully, searing the scallops so their caramelized edges frame the luxe meat, soft and supple as a late-summer peach. Unlike frozen scallops, which are weirdly white as chalk, weathervanes have an ivory cast that looks lovely against the gently spiced green curry underscoring the shellfish. The composed plate’s Asian stylings are echoed by split baby eggplants, airy naan puffs, and a spray of macadamia nuts.

Tanglewood is at its best when it’s roaming the globe, frying up jaunty sweet-potato arancini or saucing a tender hanger steak

till, most of Tanglewood’s problems would be fixed with a few phone calls. The restaurant could stand to schedule another runner on weekend nights (on my first visit, our friendly server was so flustered by simultaneous seatings that she had to double back twice to clarify our drink orders). Tanglewood’s complimentary bread is a cold, hard, and bland reminder that good bread is worth the price. And I’d much rather ante up for a pat of quality butter or splash of fresh olive oil than soak my slice of bread in the balsamic vinegar that Tanglewood provides.

Finally, while a slim selection of spirits makes sense in a restaurant that needs to save every kitchen counter seat for dining customers, Tanglewood’s wine list doesn’t measure up to its inspired cuisine. Although the menu emphasizes delicate shellfish and Thai touches, such as coconut milk in a red risotto and a lemongrass coulis scribbled alongside bits of flash-fried yellowfin tuna, the only white wines available are an oaked chardonnay, sauvignon blanc, and pinot gris. None of the whites or the three listed reds are priced at more than $32, but affordability is small consolation when trying to figure out what to drink with a smart dish of whole Hawaiian blue prawns poached in a vanilla-sweet grapefruit nage.

Fortunately, wine’s less of a concern at lunchtime, which is when you have to visit Tanglewood if you’re after the salmon pastrami. The terrific salmon, seasoned and cured for four days before cold-smoking, is thickly sliced and smeared with wholegrain mustard. Online food chroniclers might want to get a picture. E hraskin@seattleweekly.com TANGLEWOOD SUPREME 3216 W. Wheeler St., 708-6235, tanglewoodsupreme.com.

11 a.m.–3 p.m. & 5 p.m.–close, Tues.–Sat.

Seatt le w eekly • FEBRUARY 20−26, 2013

ver since The New York Times exposed the foibles of self-appointed food paparazzi on the front page of its dining section, culinary folk have been yammering about the propriety of restaurant photography.

Food writers have taken to interviewing each other about the phenomenon, asking whether it’s ever OK to use a flash, or set up a tabletop tripod, or make dining companions hold their forks until a dish has been positioned to catch the light just so.

It’s not a debate likely to inflame patrons at Tanglewood Supreme, a self-effacing seafood bistro which four months ago opened in a tidy Magnolia alleyway. That’s not to suggest the dishes at Tanglewood aren’t photogenic—on the contrary: When sunlight wafts through the south-facing windows during a busy lunch service, ribbons of housemade pappardelle smudged with chili and grapefruit, hillocks of red quinoa flecked with ricotta Thick slices of salmon pastrami salata and bright-green Brussels are a lunch-only treat sprout leaves, and sunset-pink at Tanglewood Supreme. salmon tartare gleam so attractively that even the drowsiest appetites are jolted awake by a glance around distinguishes it from other restaurants with the compact room. But bloggers generally open kitchens and $22 entrées—and what don’t bother toting their cameras to Tanglematters most to eaters on the opposite end wood because the restaurant stands outside of the Magnolia Bridge—is the consistently the realm of razzmatazz. high caliber of its food.

Chef Jeffrey Kessenich, a Brasa vet and smart hire by owner Kent Chappelle, isn’t so taken with his philosophy, ingredient sourcourists who’ve glimpsed an area ing, and technique that guests are forced to map are often surprised by the acknowledge his talents when all they want seeming scarcity of seafood resis a decent green salad. Nor are prices ratchtaurants in Seattle. Beyond the eted up to announce artistry, or account for sophisticated oyster houses, outlets of local it: A seven-course tasting, drawn directly chains with multiple locations, and Tom from the menu, is a remarkably reasonable Douglas’ paeans to the ocean, the category $40. While there’s plenty of deliciousness falters: There aren’t any East Coast–style available, dinner at Tanglewood is always shacks where fishermen feast on their own presented as a meal, not an event, which is catches or quiet cafes with fish-centric probably why the restaurant languished for menus, a ubiquitous format around the months without much online love.

Great Lakes.

But there’s nothing wrong with a resChappelle hoped to attend to the municitaurant that doesn’t mug for the cameras pal seafood gap with Tanglewood. (The (or make a noisy fuss strange name was borabout the eaters armed rowed from a casserole » PRICE GUIDE with them). Although his mother mastered; ARANCINI ......................................$5 SALMON TARTARE .....................$6 the term “neighborhood inexplicably, the preparaSALMON PASTRAMI ................ $10 restaurant” is a mite tion isn’t on the menu.

PRAWNS .......................................$22 SCALLOPS ....................................$24 too rumpled and beery I’d love to see at least a for what’s happening at tribute version alongside Tanglewood, the tailored the ceviche and chicken 35-seat bistro is admirably willing to recede thighs served for happy hour.) If there’s one into the background when Magnolians want dish that demonstrates his success, it’s the to celebrate a birthday or host visiting inAlaskan weathervane scallops. laws. In many ways, Tanglewood Supreme Scallops are extraordinarily popular with feels like a perfectly ordinary expression of American eaters, whose consumption of the upper-middle-class-hood, in the fashion of plump bivalves is bound only by budget. As golden retrievers and Toyota Priuses. What The Boston Globe reported last year, grocery

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3427 Rainier Ave S. • Seattle WA 98144 •(206) 722-3229 The Barkeep: Rachel Henthorn is endearingly bashful at first, but quickly warms up to irst all even a mediocre conversationalist such as » by kyle houk myself. Originally from Maine, she’s lived in Seattle about three years, but, sadly, plans to become a Mainer again in a few short weeks. The night I visit, she’s sporting a bright-yellow Night of the Living Dead T-shirt to accentuate her bright-red, shoulder-length hair.

The Watering Hole: Prost!, 7311 Greenwood Why is she leaving our beautiful city? “I Ave. N., 706-5430, PHINNEY RIDGE miss having four seasons and my family,” The Atmosphere: The stretch of Greenwood Henthorn says. That really is a shame, because Avenue between North 85th Street and Phinney Henthorn, like Greenwood Avenue, is a hidAvenue North is an unjustly overlooked locus den treasure. In addition to her job at Prost! of food and fun in Seattle—hardly ever brought (“cheers” in German), she works at the Pine up when the conversation turns to nightlife and Box on Capitol Hill and the Neptune in the U dining. Anthony Bourdain just ended the second District. Her work ethic and multitasking skills season of The Layover with are on vivid display a very fun episode about tonight. In addition to Seattle. He mentioned just pouring drinks and about every neighborhood humoring an obnoxious medium-sized and up, reporter, Henthorn does and name-dropped, if not all the cooking (in the visited, a few notable resshoebox-sized kitchen), taurants and bars in each. waitressing, and dishGreenwood was mentioned washing, too. exactly once (and in passThe Drink: Let’s ing) among the oft-fawnedreturn to the beverage over Ballard, Capitol Hill, dispenser. It reminds me and U District. And Lake of an antique iced-tea City and Rainier Valley, or lemonade container: too?! What gives? flat-sided with a spigot Perhaps it’s the difficult, on the bottom, straight transfer-heavy bus journey out of Fried Green it takes to get to GreenTomatoes or the Gump wood. Perhaps it’s the rows residence. Within this Infused whiskey and of houses filled with famichamber of delights Mainer Rachel. lies, children, and puppies just are about three gallons of a few yards away on either Jack Daniel’s. This was no side of Greenwood Avenue. ordinary bourbon, though.

Whatever the reason, I simply can’t understand Filling the jar to the brim, luxuriously large layers why such little respect is paid to an awesome of golden raisins, cinnamon sticks, and orange strip that contains Naked City Taphouse, the slices steep their flavors into the magical potion.

Baranof, Gainsbourg, the Wing Dome, 74th Street Henthorn decides to make me a Hot Toddy with Ale House, Red Mill Burgers, and at least one this sweet elixir. One shot of the infused whisrepresentative from most world cuisines. Prost! key, a half-shot of Bärenjäger, a splash of water, is among the hidden treasures of Greenwood. and lemon join forces to warm my heart and Upon entering, the heavy aroma of sauerkraut soul. It’s delicious—and deliciously lethal, as a fills your nostrils. Surely years must pass before few painless straight shots of the magic Jack an entire room is stained with an odor, and for soon attest. some reason this makes Prost! Germanically The Verdict: I haven’t mentioned the food, but legitimate in my mind. The space is small, long, it was delicious, too. The menu includes a few and narrow, with only a few Oktoberfest-style entrée-style dishes, but for the most part compicnic tables and perhaps a half-dozen seats prises small plates: German sausages, salads, at the bar. The small area makes meeting and pretzels. The atmosphere at Prost! is warm and chatting with complete strangers much easier, inviting, and a lone wolf should not be surprised as does the enormous glass beverage dispenser if by night’s end he leaves the tavern with a few the bartender strains to haul out from the kitchen new friends. E (more on its lethal contents later). food@seattleweekly.com

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neously watch live music, drink a beer, and eat Flying Squirrel pizza at Sunset Tavern. Pies like the REM (with pesto, portobello mushrooms, roasted red pepper, caramelized onion, goat cheese, and mozzarella) and the Eartha Kitt are nicely in theme with the music venue.

Though the bands can be hit or miss, fresh, artisinal ingredients like Laura Chanel Goat Cheese and Zoe’s meats make them reliably tasty. $$ TAWON THAI 3410 Fremont Ave. N., 633-4545. Thai restaurants in Fremont are almost as common as two-year-olds in Columbia City. Tawon Thai looks as pleasantly appointed as its competitors, but the kitchen doesn’t sugar up its curries as much as the others do or lighten up the fish sauce and lime on its salads. The cooks also diverge a bit further afield from the standards. If you’ve eaten a hundred different pad see euws in your life, try the kow soi, curried noodles laced with pickled cabbage; if you’re dead bored with spring rolls, order the miang kam, and fill raw spinach leaves with delicate pinches of dried shrimp, coconut, lime, peanuts, and onions. Not so common at all. $

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S. Jackson St., 682-1828. Attractive, lodge-like Kaname’s long menu includes all the dishes Americans expect to find in a Japanese restaurant (sushi, sukiyaki, tempura, katsu), as well as the smaller drinking snacks that you’d find at izakayas, or Japanese pubs. That’s a lot of dishes to master, and the results are uneven, but one of the reliable successes is Kaname’s ramen. Owner Todd Kuniyuki trained with a Japanese chef to learn his Kyushustyle tonkotsu broth, which smells like pureed bacon but is light enough to sip a bowl’s worth. $ PHNOM PENH NOODLE HOUSE 660 S. King St., 7489825. When Seattle eaters can’t face one more bowl of pho, but desperately need a steaming hot bowl of broth to see them through yet another chilly day, they tend to turn up at Sam Ung’s outpost of Cambodian cooking. Phnom Penh serves upstanding noodle soups, but eaters who stick around will also discover the sticky chicken wings, grilled short ribs and mee katang, which benefits immensely from a dollop of the house hot sauce of roasted chiles, garlic and dried shrimp paste. (A quarter buys an extra serving if you’re

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Dog House History

While it’s almost impossible to know where to look first upon entering the Museum of History and Industry’s new South Lake Union location, many visitors’ eyes dart to a towering artifact grid in the atrium’s north end. The Hollywood Squares–style board is populated with locally important objects, including the giant “R” which stood atop the Rainier brewery and the “All Roads Lead to the Dog House” mural which hung over the counter of the storied dive bar.

“Visitors remembers going there, and seem to have fond memories,” MOHAI’s creative director Ann Farrington says of the sign’s inclusion in the central exhibit.

At MOHAI, the mural hangs over a conveyor belt set with plates of fake food. Although Farrington refused to identify exactly which items are now on eternal rotation, sharp-eyed visitors can make out sunny-side-up eggs, cheese sandwiches, and a cup of soup. The Seattle Public Library has thus far only digitized the A-C portion of its menu collection, but it’s highly likely that eggs, sandwiches, and soups were among the top sellers at the Dog House, which stayed open round-the-clock for 60 years at Seventh

taking your Phnom Penh to go.) Like many Asian restaurant owners, Ung has a harrowing life story. More unusually, he’s written his memoirs in English. The slim book’s sold at the restaurant. $ SAMURAI NOODLE 606 Fifth Ave. S, 624-9321. An all-ramen restaurant with no plastic packets? Yup, Samurai Noodle does it all in-house, serving huge, redolent bowls of broth that took much longer than 90 seconds to concoct (but still make for cheap eats). The house specialty, tonkotsu ramen, rivals a bowl of gravy in its richness. Though the recipe is subject to a nondisclosure agreement with a Japanese ramen company, Samurai’s chef simmers pork bones for hours, creating an oinky liquor with the color and creaminess of a good cafe au lait. There are other ramens at Samurai, including versions with chicken, soy, seasonal yuzu, and cold-fish broths, but none come so bundled with memories of Christmas dinner. $ THANH VI 1046 S. Jackson St., 329-0208. Tucked into the “Asian Plaza” at the intersection of 12th Avenue and Jackson Street, Thanh Vi is hidden in plain sight.

Decorated with a casino owner’s eye for color, this unpretentious spot is crowded with families working their way through enormous platters and bowls. The best dishes require some assembly. You can braise raw seafood, fish balls, and veggies at the table in a hot-and-sour hot pot, which has a fragrant, tamarind-pineapple broth. Or make your own spring rolls with charbroiled pork, pickled vegetables, herbs, and rice paper. $

NORTH SEATTLE

FU MAN DUMPLING HOUSE 14314 Greenwood Ave.

N., 364-0681. If there’s one thing that you should order at Fu Man Dumpling House, a six-table hole in the wall in the northern stretches of Greenwood Avenue, it’s the boiled dumplings. Avoid the mushy chow mein, pass over the ho-hum stir-fried entrees.

The lumpy, pinched little dumplings, plumped out with pork and vegetables, are the thing here. You’ll see families hunched over a couple dozen of them at a time, dead to everything but the slipperiness of the casing, the kick of the garlic sauce they dredge the dumplings through. If your tablemates demand more variety, maybe branch out with a plate of cold roasted chicken or the “hamburger” (a pan-fried, hockeypuck-shaped dumpling filled with ground beef). $

and Bell. “[It’s] basic diner fare based on anecdotal memories of what people’s favorite dishes were,” Farrington says, adding that the place settings were lavishly ornamented with coffee cups and cigarettes, perhaps the most enduring Dog House staples.

According to MOHAI records, the mural was painted in 1933 or 1934 by Justin Covey or Blackie Martin. But there’s no uncertainty surrounding the composition of the mural, which was probably studied intently by generations of workers drinking after a shift or sobering up before the next one. As described in MOHAI’s database, “It is a naive, three-dimensional mural depicting a matronly woman standing on her front porch holding a rolling pin, looking across a field to a forlorn-looking hound dog sitting in front of a dog house.”

In 1994, the Dog House served a final shot of whiskey to the house organist and shooed away its last customers. “In some ways I think it is possible to date the death of old Seattle to when the Dog House closed,” Floyd Waterson wrote in his essay “Last Call at the Dog House.” E hraskin@seattleweekly.com

aBLOG ON »FOOD VORACIOUS

SEATTLEWEEKLY.COM/VORACIOUS

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The Misplaced Zeal of Aaron Swartz

The late activist’s efforts helped put power and public sympathy into the hands of corporations at the expense of artists, musicians, and the people.

BY CHRIS RUEN

TIA SCHMITZ

L

We shouldn’t be surprised that the age of music freeloading coincided with a spike in corporate patronage of “indie” musicians in the form of branding, advertising campaigns, and even “record labels” run by the likes of Mountain Dew and Scion. spots of his own when it came to copyright.

First Amendment and copyright have coexisted—without terrible controversy—since the founding of the republic. Our Founding Fathers included a copyright clause in the

Constitution (Article I, Section 8, clause 8), and in 1790 approved the first federal copyright law—before the Bill of Rights was even adopted. There are free-speech exceptions to copyright, such as Fair Use provisions, but Swartz’s idea that the Supreme Court had some obvious “blind spot” was quite wrong. As described by the Supreme Court, copyright “is the engine of free expression.”

Like many others, Swartz failed to see that combating digital piracy is more than a matter of protecting entrenched corporate profits—it’s a matter of protecting the individual rights of all artists, most of whom are far from wealthy or powerful. Record labels, publishers, and film companies—from the biggest corporate behemoths to the smallest independents on shoestring budgets—exist merely because artists freely choose to partner with them, legally extending their rights. Whether an artist sees opportunity in signing with a record label is their business, not ours. Mass piracy is fundamentally contemptuous of artists’ choices and erodes opportunities for creators trying to make their way in an already tough business.

Swartz also failed to see how sensible

copyright policies place cultural power in the hands of the people—a goal he otherwise celebrated. The complementary protections of copyright and freedom of speech combine to create an independent and progressive creative culture funded by consumers (the people) rather than powerful patrons. Even if the state or a private power doesn’t like a piece of creative work, copyright gives the paying public final say on whether it holds value—whether an artist deserves a career or a media company deserves success. By excusing digital piracy—or as I call it, “freeloading”—not only do we decide that creative works are less valuable than, say, a cup of cheap diner coffee, but also forsake our individual power to meaningfully influence culture.

By helping to kill SOPA and PIPA, Swartz didn’t make it any easier for an independent artist or media company to create a sustainable business model—a long-term source of financing for their art and the creation of information. But he did help companies like Google continue to profit from the unmitigated exchange of copyrighted information.

Seatt le w eekly • FEBRUARY 20−26, 2013

ike most people, I was saddened to learn of the recent self-inflicted death of 26-year-old Aaron Swartz—the wunderkind computer mind and tireless Internet freedom activist who helped galvanize public support to defeat the Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA) in 2012.

Swartz was also an accused felon. A firm believer that all information—research, music, etc.—should be free for taking, he played a cat-and-mouse game with MIT in 2011, repeatedly defying their attempts to stop him from downloading nearly five million academic research papers from the JSTOR research database, apparently with the intent to distribute them online.

Since his passing, there have been calls to honor his legacy by increasing awareness of untreated mental illness, shining a light on overzealous federal prosecutors, reforming the computer-fraud law he was charged under, and encouraging academics to make their research publicly available.

Friends, family members, supporters, and journalists have turned Swartz into a martyr. Swartz’s father, Robert, says his son was “killed by the government;” New York magazine says Swartz “was a victim of a grave injustice”; Rolling Stone memorialized him as a hero who “led a campaign to prevent . . . a bill introduced to Congress that would have effectively legalized censorship on the Internet.”

If the many calls to continue Swartz’ work in his memory are appropriate, we shouldn’t shrink from those areas where his work was half-baked or based upon mistaken concepts. In the words of Voltaire: “To the living we owe respect, but to the dead we owe only truth.”

Swartz dreamed of a time when all the world’s information was available free online, unconstrained by governments, corporations, or gatekeepers of any kind.

Like others in the technology sector, Swartz viewed copyright—the right of creators to decide for a limited time how their work is distributed—as a threat to the information utopia he craved. He was wrong. Not only that, but the battles he won for Internet “freedom” overwhelmingly moved power from the people into the hands of the very corporate powers he sought to free information from.

In a much-discussed speech recorded at the “Freedom to Connect” conference last May, Swartz spoke of efforts to clamp down on websites that facilitate piracy—such as SOPA and its companion bill, PIPA—as a case of government “censorship,” and noted, “I knew the Supreme Court had a blind spot around the First Amendment . . . Their blind spot was copyright.” I know Swartz’s intentions were sincere, but it is striking that this demonstrably brilliant person had blind

» CONTINUED ON PAGE 30 29

Aaron Swartz » FROM PAGE 29

S

wartz’s zeal for Internet freedom was just one aspect of his efforts to seek positive change in the world, but ironically he didn’t see that artists are uniquely suited to offer the public new ideas, stimulate communities of thought, and catalyze progress. Copyright enabled the rise to cultural prominence of figures like John Lennon, Kurt Vonnegut, Johnny Cash, Stanley Kubrick, and Bob Dylan. Such figures transcend issue politics; they can revolutionize our cultural

Curbing access to The Pirate Bay is no more an infringement on free speech than closing loopholes that allow felons to buy guns is a violation of a citizen’s right to bear arms.

available n ow

Seattle weekly • FEBRU ARY 20− 26, 2 013

www.finrecords.com

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consciousness. Some people get rankled by the idea that an artist—gasp!—may become wealthy by the protections of copyright, but a wealthy artist is also an artist who answers to no one. The more financial stability an artist has, the more free, independent, and culturally powerful he or she may become.

The more artists can trust that their fans will support them and respect their rights, the less desperate and reliant upon corporate or state patronage they’ll be. We shouldn’t be surprised that the age of music freeloading coincided with a spike in corporate patronage of “indie” musicians in the form of branding, advertising campaigns, and even “record labels” run by the likes of Mountain Dew and Scion.

By excusing freeloading, we consent to a digital future with decreased opportunities for our most independent and talented voices to emerge from the margins, find an audience, and develop over time to create works that change the way we look at the world. Thus, adequate protections against artistic exploitation—aka copyright enforcement—affect profoundly whether or not we will achieve our creative or, hell, human potential in the digital age. Do we want to live in a society that gives artists a fair opportunity to make a living or not?

Past and present facilitators of digital piracy like Napster, Audiogalaxy, Grokster, Megaupload, and The Pirate Bay are not misunderstood beacons of freedom of speech.

They are digital black-market distributors who never asked artists’ permission to feature their works or paid creators a penny, and whose owners took money for themselves via venture-capital funding, subscription fees, or advertising revenue. Such overseas-based black-market distributors were the target of SOPA—not “any website,” as much of the delirious anti-SOPA propaganda (embraced and furthered by Swartz) erroneously claimed.

In his “Freedom to Connect” speech,

Swartz recounted a friend telling him that the anti-piracy legislation COICA, which preceded SOPA, “isn’t a bill about copyright . . . It’s a bill about the freedom to connect”—but Swartz then omitted the next critical step in analysis. The bill was about the “freedom to connect” to black-market distributors who profit from other people’s hard work—who blithely cut off at the knees artists’ ability to be fairly compensated.

“This bill would devise a list of websites that Americans weren’t allowed to visit,” Swartz said, again leaving out the critical reason why: They were illegitimate black-market sites that had no right to profit from an American audience, and which would roundly be considered illegal if based within our borders.

Marginalizing or blocking black-market distributors, prudently done, shouldn’t be any more controversial than closing a store conspicuously packed with counterfeit goods.

Portraying the attempt to marginalize illegal online businesses as some violation of “Internet freedom” is curious, yet in many ways familiar in our political discourse. When the gun lobby gets panic-stricken over the prospect of universal background checks or bans on high-capacity magazines, which will likely cut into gun-industry profits, they stiffarm debate by cloaking themselves under the emotionally potent but oversimplified banner of protecting “our freedoms.” Curbing access to The Pirate Bay is no more an infringement on free speech than closing loopholes that allow felons to buy guns is a violation of a citizen’s right to bear arms.

T

he first great political protest of the Internet age—the SOPA blackout, which Swartz fiercely advocated—was based mostly upon falsehood and paranoia. Mindful people accepted and then regurgitated mindless arguments—for example, that attempts to marginalize piracy would squelch free speech. Talk of Internet freedom is hollow, even dangerous, without an acknowledgement of Internet responsibility—our duty to respect the rights of others, artists included.

By accepting utilitarian, propagandist calculations, where do we rediscover the truth?

Not from power struggles among the factions of politics, business, or technology—no. Truth is deliberated, and true inspiration found, in the very journalism, art, and other expressions that copyright protections incentivize. At their best, such work lessens our collective blind spots and reveals new doors to consciousness. A nation that dismisses the work of its artists and communicators is a nation with no future and no soul—as Tom Waits bellows, “a house where nobody lives.”

If the memory of Aaron Swartz is to energize reform within the copyright sphere, let it be to sensibly reduce the length of copyright terms for the sake of the public domain—something we also have a right to.

But let’s not throw the baby out with the bathwater. Reasonably protecting artists’ fair opportunity to make a living in the digital age through copyright, and our opportunity to directly support them, is the irreplaceable cornerstone of building the better world Swartz so deeply wished for. E Chris Ruen is the author of Freeloading: How Our Insatiable Hunger for Free Content Starves Creativity. music@seattleweekly.com

Reverb»Reviews »EVERY LOCAL RELEASE

LOCAL BANDS Mike Ensor and the Principles of Strife, As We Dangle From the Alloy Trees and Twirl in the Barb Wire (out now, self-released, ensormusic.com): Weirdo electro-pop that wins the award for eating up more word count with its band name and album title alone than any previous review. Bonus points for the excellent song titles, like “Mars Hill Ate My Baby.” Recommended for fans of drugs, drum machines, and new wave. DAVE LAKE

*

Zach Fleury, Tarzan Suite (out now, self-released, facebook.com/zach. fleury.5): On this plucky EP, Fleury’s earthy, often falsetto voice interplays smartly with the Seattle String Mafia, an ensemble that produces far more polite backing music than its name implies. The fourth song on this brief EP is named “Lullaby,” which aptly describes all of them: simple, soothing, and delightful. DANIEL PEARSON (Fri., Feb. 22, The Triple Door) Grave Babies, Crusher (2/26, Hardly Art,

hardlyart.com/gravebabies): Dense, noisy, and monochrome, Grave Babies’ debut is exceedingly difficult to listen through, even at just 33 minutes long. But alienation is the band’s m.o., and there are some indelible garage-punk tracks amid the fuzz. As with last spring’s Gothdammit EP, patience—and repeat listens—pay off. ANDREW GOSPE (Sat., Feb. 23, The Highline)

Kinski , “Conflict Free Diamonds” (out now, Kill Rock Stars, soundcloud.com/killrock stars/kinski-conflict-free-diamonds): With a great (though traditional) guitar line, the song adds noise, then takes it away as singer Chris Martin spills thoughts about starting over.

The first single from the band’s KRS debut, Cosy Moments, it marks the beginning of a

new, very accessible chapter for Kinski—and it sounds good on them. TODD HAMM (Fri., April 5, The Sunset) Pony Time, Go Find Your Own (2/22, Per Se

Records, soundcloud.com/per-se-records): The latest from this fuzz-pop duo favors the latter half of the hyphenation—it’s the band’s smoothest LP yet—while remaining firmly rooted to the garage. CHRIS KORNELIS (Fri., Feb. 22, Black Lodge)

*

Red Jacket Mine, Someone Else’s Cake (out now, Fin Records, redjacketmine. net): The third studio album by this Seattle rock quartet is a departure from the poprock of its predecessors, as Lincoln Barr and company enter their British post-punk phase.

ASHLEY ROE (Fri., Feb. 22, High Dive) Spring the Trap, Spring the Trap (out now, self-released, revernation.com/springthe trapseattle.com): Fusing the upbeat, melodic feel of metal with the driving, soaring sound of good old-fashioned rock, Spring the Trap offers a perfect mix of energy and depth without becoming clichéd or overconfident.

JOE WILLIAMS (Thurs., Feb. 21, High Dive) Tempul , All the Windows of the World (2/22, self-released, tempul.com): From the vocals to the finely picked guitars to the sprawling structures, Tempul sounds a lot like Too— but really freaking good at it. Their ideas are fresher than those of their chai-metal forefathers, too. TH (Fri., Feb. 22, El Corazon)

*

Timothy Robert Graham , The

Hidden Rose (out now, self-released, timothyrobertgraham.com): The debut of this Seattle post-rock five-piece, headed by singer/ songwriter Graham, combines heavy electric guitar and cymbals alongside the soothing hum of Graham’s voice to create a tranquil and slightly psychedelic sound. ASHLEY ROE

* ALICE IN CHAINS, “Hollow” (out now, Virgin, aliceinchains.com)

(2/26, Dualtone, ivanandalyosha.com)

KYLE DEAN REINFORD

The pretty melodies and spot-on harmonies on I&A’s debut would have been more welcome in 2008, when the idea of Northwest city kids watering down rock with indie-folk harmonies was still fresh (and often exciting). It’s not that the songs aren’t, as the band sings, “easy to love”; it’s that five years later, most of us have had our fill. On the other hand, Alice in Chains’ “Hollow”—the teaser from their forthcoming LP—is a reminder that the band’s harmonies are as distinctive as the Beach Boys’ and CSNY’s, but with a darker forecast that fewer bands have tried to emulate (with good reason), keeping the sound fresh and unquestionably AIC’s. When more bands start looking for their own sound instead of settling for a pretty one, we’ll have something new to celebrate. CHRIS KORNELIS (Ivan & Ivan & Alyosha.

Alyosha: Sat., Feb. 23, Showbox at the Market)

Seatt le w eekly • FEBRUARY 20−26, 2013

IVAN & ALYOSHA, All the Times We Had

31

Reverb»The Short List The 1Uppers THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 21

Every third Thursday the Royal Room hosts its “Third Thursday Twang Royale,” and country six-piece the 1Uppers have been regular guests for about a year. The sets usually feature other up-and-coming roots bands, and always features a different theme: Tonight, for example, every song performed will be about brothers.

And if ever there was a subject of Americana deserving of a night all to itself, it’s this one—Waylon Jennings pretty much invented it with the Dukes of Hazzard theme “Good Ol’ Boys.” But don’t expect the bands to pull from only the country songbook. The 1Uppers can countrify just about any tune; on their latest selftitled release, they did so expertly with the pedal-steel twang on their cover of the Smiths’ “How Soon Is Now?”, so they could probably nail Kanye West’s “Big Brother” just as well. With the Bellow Brothers. The Royal Room, 5000 Rainier Ave. S., 906-9920. 8p.m. Free.

Seattle Symphony THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 21

Put the hay down where the goats can get it, I always say. The Seattle Symphony packed City Hall’s atrium the last time they were there, in January 2012, and they’ll return this week with a free program of rousing dances (Bartok and Brahms), a Ravel suite (in delicate pastels, a risky choice for a throw-the-doors-open lunchtime concert in an echoey space), and a young prodigy to wow the crowd (violinist Amelia Sie, playing a bit from a Prokofiev concerto). Stilian Kirov conducts. It’ll certainly be an improvement over eating takeout teriyaki at your desk again. (And if you absolutely can’t get away from work, there’s another free performance at Chief Sealth High School Tuesday at 7:30.)

32

Galactic plays the Showbox on Friday with Corey Glover out front.

Galactic feat.

Corey Glover FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 22

Before Corey Glover found fame in 1988 as the singer of Living Colour, the “Cult of Personality” singer was an aspiring actor who managed to nab a small role in Oliver Stone’s Platoon (spoiler: He dies). Now 48, Glover has recently returned to acting, starring as Judas in the touring production of Jesus Christ Superstar; he more recently fronted the New Orleans funk ensemble Galactic, whose latest album, Carnivale

*

Electricos, is a tribute to Mardi Gras.

With LATYRX feat. Lyrics Born & Lateef the Truthspeaker. Showbox at the Market, 1426 First Ave. $8 p.m. $26.50 adv./ $32 DOS. DAVE LAKE

Pennywise

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 23

Roaring out of Hermosa Beach, Calif., in 1988—the same beach town that had birthed Black Flag a decade earlier—Pennywise quickly became a Southern California punk-rock staple with their blend of speedy riffs and sing-along choruses, the

EDITOR’S PICK

METHOD MAN TUESDADY, FEBRUARY 26

M-E-T-H-O-D M-A-N, aka Mista Mef, aka Cheese from The Wire has remained relevant over the years as much for his jocular on-camera persona as for his lauded mike handling. The Wu-Tang standout is one of the few rappers-turned-pop culture personalities who’s retained rapworld credibility (sure, Wu-Massacre was a little underwhelming, but its most relevant verses were Meth’s), and that’s no accident. The Long/ Staten Island MC is one of the most complete artists to grace the mike in history, for his ridiculous charisma and multilayered rhymes. Sure, he hasn’t put out a solo record in a minute, but there’s one supposedly one “in the works” that we might get a taste of tonight. Either way, it’s a sure bet he’ll spit some classics. With Ra Scion, Leezy, Serge Severe. Neumos, 925 E. Pike St., 709-9442. 8 p.m. $28.50 adv. 21 and over. TODD HAMM

COURTESY THE AGENCY GROUP

Seattle weekly • FEBRU ARY 20− 26, 2 013

City Hall, 600 Fourth Ave., seattle symphony.org. Noon. Free. GAVIN BORCHERT

TAYLOR CROTHERS

GWENDOLYN ELLIOTT

perfect soundtrack for the area’s booming surf and skate culture. This year marks the band’s 25th anniversary, as well as the return of original singer Jim Lindberg, who left in 2009 after two decades with the group. The band is touring alongside Lagwagon, another long-running California punk band. With Stick to Your Guns, The Loss. Showbox SoDo, 1700 First Ave. S., 888-929-7849. 7 p.m. $19.99 adv./$25 DOS. DAVE LAKE

Rakim

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 25

During rap’s Golden Age, Rakim and his ambitious producer, Eric B, established a new school of East Coast hip-hop. EB’s brisk-tempo beats and scratched soul samples set the table for The God Emcee’s pioneering “lyrical” rap style, which would become perhaps the most emulated style ever. Heavy on metaphor, self-referential, and spiritual more than political, Rakim relied heavily on wordplay and set the bar high. In a creative spike late in the ’90s after splitting with Eric B, Rakim came back strong with The 18th Letter and The Master. Though a failed attempt at a Dr. Dre–produced album just after the turn of the millennium, and ’09’s sub par The Seventh Seal, undoubtedly made many purists tear up, in the eyes of most he never lost status as one of—if not the—greatest of all time. With Grynch, Fearce & BeanOne, DJ B-Mello. Neumos, 925 E. Pike St., 7099442. 8 p.m. $20 adv. 21 and over.

TODD HAMM

2033 6th Avenue (206) 441-9729 jazzalley.com

Jazz Alley is a Supper Club

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with their Deep Grooves and High Energy!

February 20

February 21 - 24

The 9th Annual Seattle-Kobe Female Jazz Vocalist Audition

Chris Potter Quartet

February 25

February 26 - 27

Easily the Most Compelling Tenor Saxophonist of his Generation

THU/FEBRUARY 21 • 7:30PM

ari hest w/ carrie rodriguez FRI/FEBRUARY 22 • 8PM - CD RELEASE SHOW

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w/ daniel blue & hannalee TUE/FEBRUARY 26 • 7:30PM

Mindi Abair Smooth Sax Sensation

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Seatt le w eekly • FEBRUARY 20−26, 2013

TUE/MARCH 5 • 7:30PM

33

Reverb»Seven Nights Wednesday, Feb. 20 Lehnberg and Elin Lindfors is touring behind the final installment of The Archer Trilogy, a varied collection of Knife-esque electronica recorded in 2010.

With Magic Wands, Fey Moth. Sunset Tavern, 5433 Ballard Ave. N.W., 784-4880, sunsettavern.com. 7:30 p.m. $8.

MOUSE ON MARS This longtime dancetronica outfit is coming off last year’s energetic glitchclub Parastrophics with a full head of steam. With Matmos, Horse Lords. Neumos, 925 E. Pike St., 7099442. 8 p.m. $17 adv. 21 and over.

SPACEWASTER A self-described “progressive funk metal” group, this local trio more or less lives up to that tag—think noisy breakdowns, shifting time signatures, and lots of slap bass. With Sioux City Pete & the Beggars, The Co.Incedense. Rendezvous, 2322 Second Ave., 441-5823, jewelboxtheater.com.

10 p.m. $5.

WINTERGRASS ’13 LAUNCH PARTY Wintergrass is a four-day American acoustic-music festival that will take place at a hotel in Bellevue at the end of the month; this kickoff event features a variety of bluegrass and roots-music acts. With Pickled Okra, Barleywine Revue, the Howdy Boys, Blueberry Hill.

Nectar Lounge, 412 N. 36th St., 632-2020, nectar lounge.com. 6 p.m. $5 adv./$7 DOS.

Thursday, Feb. 21 CHASTITY BELT headlines this well-curated lineup of

off-kilter rock, their bare-bones punk nicely complementing the fuzzed-out garage-pop of Blooper and Neighbors as well as Marvelous Good Fortune’s fairy-prog keyboard odysseys. Columbia City Theater, 4918 Rainier Ave. S., 723-0088, columbiacitytheater. com. 8 p.m. $8.

CRAZY EYES On their Book EP, this local punk group combines bluesy riffage with scuzzy ’90s guitar fuzz. With So Pitted, Health Problems. Highline, 210 Broadway Ave E., 328-7837, highlineseattle.com.

9 p.m. $7.

SPRING THE TRAP This melodic metal group headlines a fantastically named headliner/undercard pairing: an underwater tiger, a ninja turtle, and a ninja tiger would indeed be quite the trap to spring. With The Underwater Tiger, Ninja Turtle Ninja Tiger. High Dive, 513 N. 36th St., 632-0212, highdiveseattle.com. 8 p.m. $6.

Friday, Feb. 22 & YET is the elaborate chamber-rock project of song-

34

group will release Someone Else’s Cake, its third LP (and first on Fin Records) at this show. With Tripwires, Hearts Are Thugs. High Dive. 9:30 p.m. $8.

SEATTLE PACIFIC UNIVERSITY WIND SYMPHONY At their winter concert, SPU’s premier

wind ensemble performs, among other works, the “Symphony no. 1” by Johan de Meij, inspired by The Lord of the Rings. First Free Methodist Church, 281-2205, spu.edu. 7:30 p.m. Free. All ages.

STS9 Atlanta’s instrumental “jamtronica” band has become a major touring attraction for good reason: In addition to a decade’s worth of genre-splicing albums, the band’s live show is as much a visual experience as an auditory one. With Russ Liquid.

Showbox Sodo, 1700 First Ave. S., 888-929-7849.

7:30 p.m. $25.50 adv./$30 DOS. THE WEST Seattle’s The West hasn’t invented a new genre or put too much of a new spin on an existing one, but they will make you dance. With Out on the Streets. Neumos, 925 E. Pike St., 709-9442. 8 p.m. $8 adv. 21 and over.

Saturday, Feb. 23 GRAVE BABIES Crusher, the debut full-length on Hardly

Art to be released at this show, maintains Grave Babies’ penchant for dense, noise-inflected punk songs, while sneaking some warped pop gems amid the chaos. The album is a marginally more polished, lateral move for the band, but its name does capture the pulverizing reputation of Grave Babies’ live shows.

With Crypts, Vice Device, Youryoungbody.

Highline. 9 p.m. $7.

JASPER T. & JOHN CROWN Guitarist and

songwriter Jasper T., fresh off the release of last month’s The Sweet Dark, teams with Tacoma rapper John Crown for this cross-genre collaboration. With Theoretics, Neighbors. Barboza, 925 E. Pike St., 709-9951, the barboza.com. 7 p.m. $10 adv.

SADISTIK Continuing his trend of working with forward-thinking beatmakers—he’s collaborated with Kid Called Computer and Portland’s Emancipator— this local MC’s newest effort, Flowers for My Father, features production from frequent Nacho Picasso collaborator Blue Sky Black Death. With The MC Type, Graves 33, the Chicharones. Nectar Lounge.

8 p.m. $6 adv.

TOUBAB KREWE This Asheville, N.C., five-piece plays Malian folk-rock on traditional instruments. This includes the lute-like kamelengoni and kora, the latter of which boasts an impressive 21 strings. With Mighty High. Tractor Tavern. 9:30 p.m. $12 adv./$15 DOS. JASON THRASHER

Seattle weekly • FEBRU ARY 20− 26, 2 013

writer Dane Ueland, featuring carefully ornamented folk songs played by a seven-piece band. With J.

SALMON PAULO

THE DEER TRACKS The Swedish duo of David

Camper Van Beethoven appears at the Tractor on Friday.

Wong, Tomo Nakayama, Lydia Ramsey. Columbia City Theater. 8:30 p.m. $8.

CAMPER VAN BEETHOVEN Icons of the ’80s underground, when the phrase “college rock” actually meant something, David Lowery’s singular rock group is celebrating its 30th anniversary as well as the release of La Costa Perdida, its eighth album. With Casey Neill & the Norway Rats. Tractor Tavern, 5231 Ballard Ave. N.W., 789-3599, tractortavern.com. 9:30 p.m. $15 adv./$18 DOS. RED JACKET MINE This soul-influenced power-pop

The Deer Tracks play the Sunset on Wednesday night. (No, that’s not a metaphor.)

Sunday, Feb. 24 PHARAOHS OF THE SUN This local quintet plays

expansive, hard-edged modern rock. With Metametric, Key of Solomon. Sunset Tavern. 7:30 p.m. $6.

SEX MOB The New York–based four piece reimagines the circus-like melodies Nino Rota composed for Federico Fellini’s iconic soundtracks. 7:30 p.m. $12 adv./$15 DOS. THE WAILERS Anyone with even a cursory knowledge of rock history knows the Wailers’ claim to fame: Like The Band, the Crickets, or The E Street Band, they were the backing group for a transcendent musical figure. The trailblazing reggae group has remained active in the 30-plus years since Bob Marley’s death, even playing on a #1 country single by Kenny Chesney in 2008. With Roger Steffens. Neptune Theatre, 1303 N.E. 45th St., 784-4849, stgpresents.org. 7 p.m. $22.50 adv./$25 DOS. All ages.

WALLPAPER Ricky Reed’s electro-pop/hip-hop hybrid has earned a record deal with Epic and touring slots with the likes of AWOLNATION and Gym Class Heroes.

With Con Bro Chill. Vera Project, 305 Harrison St., 9568372, theveraproject.org. 7:30 p.m. $11. All ages.

Monday, Feb. 25 ALLURA This Los Angeles metalcore band is a Warped

Tour mainstay, and its most recent release was 2011’s True Colors. With Laid in Stone, Nordus, Drone Strike.

2 Bit Saloon, 4818 17th Ave. N.W., 708-6917, the2bitsaloon.com. 9 p.m. $7.

FREE FUNK UNION Local jazz fixtures Adam Kessler and D’Vonne Lewis host this weekly collaborative jazz-and-funk event. Triple Door (Musicquarium), 216 Union St., 838-4333, thetripledoor.net. 8 p.m. Free.

Tuesday, Feb. 26 INDIANS After a decade of playing in less-successful

bands, Søren Løkke Juul, the man behind the art-rock solo project Indians, scored a sudden record deal with 4AD last year on the strength of a few Internet demos.

The result of that deal, January’s Somewhere Else, is a spare, atmospheric record, combining elements of electronic, rock, and ambient music. With Night Beds, Cat Martino. Barboza. 8 p.m. $12 adv.

IVAN & ALYOSHA This local folk group has been around since 2007, but they’re just now releasing their debut album. All the Times We Had comes out the day of this free in-store. Sonic Boom Records, 2209 N.W. Market St., 297-2666, sonicboomrecords.com. 6 p.m. All ages.

STRFKR Though it’d be a stretch to call them elder statesmen, these Portlanders have proven themselves surprisingly durable since their 2007 inception, gimmicky (and newly vowelless) name and all.

This month’s Miracle Mile is the electro-pop group’s third full-length, and this show kicks off their tour.

With Blackbird Blackbird. The Neptune. 7 p.m. $16.50 adv./$18 DOS. All ages.

Reverb»Karaoke

TIM’S TAVERN

Karaoke Listings

FOURNO’S GREEK RESTAURANT 4733 University

88 KEYS 315 Second Ave. S., 839-1300, ilove88keys.

Free. Daily, 4 p.m.–2 a.m.

INDUSTRY LOUNGE 6601 E. Marginal Way S., 762-3453, myspace.com/206industrylounge. Free. Sundays, 9 p.m.

JABU’S PUB 174 Roy St., 284-9093, jabuspub.com. Free.

Fridays & Saturdays, 9:30 p.m.

KATE’S PUB 309 N.E. 45th St., 547-6832, Free.

Wednesdays, 10 p.m.

LITTLE RED HEN 7115 Woodlawn Ave. N.E., 522-1168, littleredhen.com. Free. Mondays & Wednesdays, 9 p.m.

MARCO POLO BAR & GRILL 5613 Fourth Ave. S., 762-3964, marcopolopub.com. Free. Fridays & Saturdays, 9 p.m.

R PLACE 619 E. Pine St., 322-8828, rplaceseattle.com.

Free. Mondays, Tuesdays, Sundays, 9 p.m.

ROCK BOX 1603 Nagle Place, 302-7625, rockboxseattle. com. Daily, 4 p.m.–2 a.m.

SPECTATOR 529 Queen Anne Ave. N., 599-4263, the spectatorsports.com. Free. Thursdays–Saturdays, 9:30 p.m.

TALARICO’S 4718 California Ave. S.W., 937-3463, talaricoswest.com. Free. Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, Sundays, 9:30 p.m.

com. Free. Mondays & Tuesdays, 8 p.m.–2 a.m.

ATLANTIC CROSSING 6508 Roosevelt Way N.E., 729-

6266, theatlanticcrossing.com. Free. Mondays, 9 p.m.

BLARNEY STONE 1909 Third Ave., 448-8439,

blarneystoneseattle.com. Free. Saturdays, 9 p.m.

BOGART’S AIRPORT WAY 3924 Airport Way S., 622-1119, bogartsairportway.com. Free. Mondays, Wednesdays–Saturdays, 9 p.m.

BOXCAR ALEHOUSE 3407 Gilman Ave. W., 286-6000, Free. Thursdays & Saturdays, 9 p.m.

BUSH GARDEN 614 Maynard Ave. S., 682-6830, bushgarden.net. Free. Sundays, 5 p.m.; Mondays– Thursdays & Saturdays, 9:30 p.m.

CHANGES BAR & GRILL 2103 N. 45th St., 545-8363, changesinwallingford.com. Free. Wednesdays, Thursdays, Sundays, 9 p.m.

CRESCENT LOUNGE 1413 E. Olive Way, 324-5358. Free.

Daily, 9 p.m.

FOUR SEAS RESTAURANT 714 S. King St., 682-4900, fourseasrestaurant.com. Free. Thursdays–Saturdays, 9 p.m.

Way N.E., 729-5195. Free. Tuesdays, 10 p.m.

HULA HULA 106 First Ave. N., 284-5003, hulahula.org.

TRY MUSIomC LIVE COUN ww w.littleredhen.c THURSDAY FEBRUARY 21ST

HIGHWAY 9 $5 FINE TEQUILA ROSE 9PM $3 COVER

FRIDAY & SATURDAY FEBRUARY 22ND & 23RD

9PM $5 COVER

SUNDAY FEBRUARY 24TH

9PM $3 COVER 4PM OPEN MIC / ACOUSTIC JAM W/ BILLY BODACIOUS TUESDAY FEBRUARY 26TH

ROY KAY TRIO 9PM

KaraoKeKorrespondent

MONDAY AND WEDNESDAY

KARAOKE WITH DJ FORREST GUMP

» by jeff roman

Gettin’ the Clap

9:00PM • NO COVER

FREE COUNTRY DANCE LESSONS WITH OUR HOST MARYANN

As I went to grab a book, I spotted Tim’s Tavern’s KJ, Katy Burk (better known as Katybelle to her fans), sitting at the bar near the stage, so I relocated to chat with her. It was good to see her on the other side of the KJ booth enjoying a night where she could get up and sing in a busy rotation without any impatient singers taking issue with it.

Katy proved she was the best singer in the house with a great performance of Adele’s “Rolling in the Deep.” Her buddy, “Dr. Panda,” was really good, too. He’s a white guy in his mid-40s who delivered a spirited offering of the Jackson 5’s “I Want You Back.” During his performance a slender, shaved-headed, AfroHispanic-looking dude took the stage behind him and danced the Crip Walk to the song. Then this drunken Indian (from India) kid with a mustache and a Clark Gable curly-bangs-style hairdo sang the sloppiest performance of Fleetwood Mac’s “Go Your Own Way” that I had ever seen.

At 1:15, when I got up to sing “Sail On” by the Commodores, the room began to thin out.

I ended up getting zero applause. I was back at the bar as the song ended and had to clap for myself. At the very end of the night, two gals struggled through Otis Redding’s “(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay.” Rex, the KJ, announced them as “The Whores of Yen Wor” when they were done, which according to Rex has been a long-running affectionate nickname for all female singers there—but they didn’t know that, and were very offended. It was pretty funny to everyone else. E music@seattleweekly.com YEN WOR GARDEN 8580 Greenwood Ave. N., 784-7422, yenworgarden.com.

AT 8PM; SUN, MON, TUES

HAPPY HOUR 9AM-NOON & 4-7 PM

WELL DRINKS & DOMESTIC BOTTLED BEER $2 16 OZ. MICROS $3.50 DINNER: 5-10PM EVERYDAY BREAKFAST & LUNCH: SAT 8AM-2PM / SUN 9AM-2PM 7115 WOODLAWN AVENUE NE 522-1168

We have the best House-smoked Ribs and Pulled Pork sandwiches around!

Evolution Trio Saturday, 2/26, 9 pm

$3

The Swamp Dogs Saturday, 3/2, 9 pm

$3

Industry People, Stafford & the Bentz Bros Saturday, 3/9, 9 pm $5 Walking Dead Viewing Party Sunday, 3/10, 9 pm Benjie Howard Saturday, 3/16, 9 pm

$5

MON - TRIVIA TUES - OPEN MIC WED THRU FRIDAY - KARAOKE 2ND SUN - LIVE JAZZ 7PM - 9PM 602 N 105th Seattle, WA 98133 206-789-9005 • timstavernseattle.com

ALABAMA SHAKES Seatt le w eekly • FEBRUARY 20−26, 2013

Around midnight last Tuesday, I rose from my couch in a foggy haze after having been KO’d six hours earlier by four haymaker rips of an indica strain called OG Kush I’d smoked when I got home from work. Hoping to salvage the couple hours of action the night still had left to offer, I headed to the closest karaoke bar from my house, the Yen Wor Garden lounge.

I was expecting it to be dead.

Years back, when I popped in regularly, it would have been tumbleweeds so early in the week, and I’d have free rein on the microphone. The large huddle of smokers outside made me realize that people have finally figured out that just a mile away from the madhouse that is the Rickshaw, there’s an alternative that’s also seven-nights-a-week, but where things are taken down a notch, there’s room to move, and more opportunity to sing.

It felt like more like a “Greenwood” scene than the typical Rickshaw crowds. People flock to the Rickshaw from all parts of town, so there are many different types. The mostly young crowd here reminded me of the downand-dirty Baranof crew I KJ’d for many years ago. These people were definitely from the neighborhood.

Some old-timers were sitting along the bar, and a couple parties took over the tables on the floor. All in all, close to 30 people were there. I grabbed a stool on the side of the bar that wraps around into the pool room and has a good angle at the stage. This guy David was tending bar that night, and he’s the best—so friendly, so positive. Everybody loves him.

During my first five minutes there, I watched him have to cut somebody off. But he delivered the 86 in such a kind way that the drunk guy actually acted apologetic about it.

North Seattle’s Friendliest Pub and Newest Entertainment Venue!

35

dategirl»By Judy McGuire S.A.M. COLLECTIVE S.A.M. COLLECTIVE

What you are doing here is perpetuating the Circle of Shit. Your husband treated you like crap, so you’re leading on his friend, hoping that the ensuing blow-up

will splatter your ex with fecal fallout.

However, the reality of the situation is that the guy wooing you now is also going to wind up covered in it. After all, he’ll not only lose his new crush, he’ll lose his old friend. So then he, embittered about having his heart dicked around with, will treat the next woman like ass. And so on.

That said, you don’t have to break up with him. You should tell him the truth, though, albeit with a side of kindness. Tell him that while you genuinely enjoy your time together, you don’t see it being a forever thing. Maybe that won’t be a problem for him. After all, he’s getting hot(ish) sex from someone he’s been eyeing for a while.

Speaking of which, this guy isn’t so nice, so I’d be careful. He may seem devoted and puppy-doggish, but this is a dude who waited out his friend’s marriage and then moved in on the ex before the ink on the divorce decree was dry. My close friends’ exes? They may as well be neutered mole rats, because I am never, ever going to sex them up. A man (or woman) who’d do that is showing you that they are not remotely trustworthy—and didn’t you just go through a round of deceit? Why sign up for more? Even if it does buy you fancy seafood and give you mediocre sex. I’d say sayonara to the whole sordid circle, but that’s just me. E

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Want more? Listen to Judy on The Mike & Judy Show, follow her tweets @HitOrMiss Judy, or buy her new book, The Official Book of Sex, Drugs, and Rock ’n’ Roll Lists.

Getting Over by Getting Down

Dear Dategirl, Is it wrong to “use” someone to get over the person who broke my heart? I was married for five years when I found out my husband had a girlfriend (who was carrying his kid—nice). I always knew that one of his close friends had a crush on me. When we split up, this New Hours: M-F 12:00 – 7:00 friend called and offered to take me Saturday 10:00 – 5:00 out for drinks. The night started Sunday 12:00 – 5:00 off friendly and ended in his bed.

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For weekly specials, follow us on Facebook I feel a little guilty, letting him buy me dinner and then take me to bed, because the thing I like best about him is how much it would bother my ex if he were to find out. Because while they were genuine friends, my69.51A ex A non-profit organization in accordance with chapter RCW always felt a bit inadequate since the friend is financially successful and my ex is not.

It’s also nice to go out with someone who can take me to places like Canlis without complaining about the cost.

But I also know this isn’t going anywhere. Do I have to break up with him? Or can I keep hanging out with him for a little while longer? He’s nice, but I’m not in love and I’m not ever going to be.

—A Little Bit Guilty

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edical-marijuana access point Crown Hill Collective had only been open a week when I visited on a recent Sunday, and it showed. While it isn’t the only dispensary around where you’re in the bud room when you walk through the front door (which necessitates bulletproof glass between you and the budtender), the process of selecting flowers seems a tad impersonal.

There’s a definite sense of separation between you and the medicine you’re expected to pick, through the glass, without smelling or holding it.

Adding to the impersonal vibe—no fault of reasonably affable budtender Jeff, who was eager to assist me—was that management made the questionable decision to prepackage all flowers into one-gram Ziplocs. One can make an aesthetic objection to this practice, since it breaks down larger flowers into smaller pieces, but that’s not the important thing. If you want to buy, say, an eighth-ounce, which equals 3.5 grams, you can’t—you have to decide whether instead you want three grams or four.

Jeff was nice enough not to object when, before I knew the one-gram packaging scheme was in place, I ordered eighths of three separate strains. He just got out four one-gram packages for each strain and then cut me a deal, knocking around $5 off each.

Still, the overpackaging of individual grams is borderline absurd.

The donation scheme at Crown Hill Collective starts at $8 a gram, with $10, $11, and $12 strains available. There weren’t a lot of strains at any particular price point, since there were only about 10 total, but at least flowers were available at each level. I selected one $8 sativa-dominant strain, Jedi

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Death Star; a $10 indica-dominant, Purple Butter; and a top-shelf selection, the indicadominant old-school strain Big Bud. Jedi Death Star has a slightly lemony, slightly peppery smell and taste and a typically energetic sativa high. It is definitely worth $8 a gram, though it fades a little on the finish. The Jedi was noticeably yellower-looking than the other two strains I bought at Crown Hill, perhaps due more to curing methods than to the flowers’ innate properties.

Purple Butter is something of a creeper strain; just as I was mentally composing ways to say it’s not that good, bada bing, there were the effects I was waiting for.

While this certainly isn’t what I’d call a couchlock strain, Butter’s indica dominance is never in doubt once the pain relief and anxiety alleviation kick in (a few tokes after you thought they would).

And then there’s the $12 Big Bud, its gorgeous namesake flowers thickly encrusted with sticky trichomes. Big Bud doesn’t have an overwhelming scent, for a culturally interesting reason: The strain was developed before medical marijuana was legal anywhere, hence odor control was a much more important factor.

Budtender Jeff promised that “good ounce prices” were on the way at Crown Hill Collective; that, plus everything not being prepackaged into one-gram units, will make the co-op more convenient and patient-friendly. E

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