Neil Halstead interview

My interview with Neil Halstead appears in this week's WE.

Neil Halstead on bands, Brushfire, and beards

By Andrea Warner

Neil Halstead’s been around long enough as a working musician — almost 20 years now — to see his whole world come full circle: His first band, Slowdive, which broke up in 1995, was one of the prime exponents of the early-’90s “shoegazer” movement, whose neo-psychedelic sound is currently enjoying a revival among a spate of up-and-comers. Taking a break from current band Mojave 3, Halstead’s latest solo disc, the folky, acoustic-based Oh! Mighty Engine, was released by Brushfire Records, Jack Johnson’s label. Halstead’s taking the opportunity to play a few solo shows while opening for Johnson on his North American tour, and he checked in with WE from Kansas.

Do you remember the first music you heard that really inspired you to write songs?

Well, I suppose from a really young age I was a huge Beatles fan; from 12 or 13, I would just play Beatles records over and over again. The bands that really captured me as a teenager were the Jesus and Mary Chain, the Smiths, the Cure, and then, later on, bands like My Bloody Valentine, Sonic Youth, and Dinosaur Jr.

I’m always interested in hearing about people’s reactions when they first picked up a guitar or sang in front of people.

I was always really shy and still am, I suppose, but it was always a bit of an effort for me to get on stage and play guitar. I would imagine the first time it was probably a very uncomfortable experience — probably for me and for everyone else.

A lot of the interviews I’ve been reading about you lately have been asking you about the re-emergence of shoegazer, but a lot of music tends to borrow from each other and influence other sounds. How do you feel about that?

Well, uh, I don’t really care. (laughs) I think it’s great if people are influenced by Slowdive or whatever. I mean, it’s nice if we’ve influenced some bands that are around today. And the stuff I’ve heard sounds great. I like it, but it’s not something I’m keeping a close eye on, I have to say.

How is touring on your own different than being part of a band?

To be honest, it can get quite lonely. The last solo [album] I did, I did three tours in America, and I think if you are completely on your own, I found it a bit depressing. I try to make sure I go out with at least one other person now. Oddly enough, it was different in Europe: I did a tour by train in Europe, on my own, and it was sort of more romantic rather than depressing. But there’s a fine line between the two.

Are there a lot of differences being on Jack Johnson’s label, compared to what you’ve experienced before?

I guess the main difference is that you’re on a label with friends, whereas before it was just kind of a business thing. With Brushfire, we’ve known these guys for a long time and are basically buddies, and it feels more low-key but more fun.

You’ve been called one of Britain’s greatest songwriters. What do those kinds of accolades mean to you?

Um, well, I always get weird ones. Like, one I got was “Britain’s best-kept secret,” and I just kind of think, well, why write that about someone? It’s kind of nice, but I’d prefer not to be a best-kept secret, you know? It’s nice if you get good reviews and stuff, but I feel like I’ve been doing it a really long time, and I’ve always just done it because I can’t do anything else.

I was looking at pictures of you from a few years ago versus now, and the most prominent feature that seems to have changed is this beard. I was wondering what your beard says about your record.

(Laughs) I don’t know. I’ve just let myself go, basically. For me, beards are like a seasonal thing — it’s a winter thing, and this one just strayed over to summer, and I’m at that point where I can’t really shave it off right now because I’ll just look silly, because it has a big white patch under it, so I’ll have to see it through for a while. 

Grimm Tales

My review of Grimm Tales appears in this week's WE.

‘Grimm Tales’ mines the macabre in children’s lit

By Andrea Warner

They say youth is wasted on the young. Try telling that to the innovative crew behind Grimm Tales, a loved and lauded play from Victoria, who are now chasing each other from scene to scene through one of Vancouver’s most challenging new “venues.” Perhaps only a fledgling theatre company like ITSAZOO would be so ballsy as to stage a two-hour walking play through the manicured but steep terrain at Queen Elizabeth Park. (Word to the wise: wear comfortable shoes to fully embrace this wacky forest of fun.)

Grimm Tales, written by Sebastien Archibald, who is also part of the ensemble, revisits the most traumatic, familiar, and eyebrow-raising of fairytales. The tales on their own are often macabre and scary — complex lessons in morality, ethics, and evil. It’s like CNN, but with better writing.

In Grimm Tales’ twisted take, Hansel and Gretel are tour guides through the Enchanted Woods, a dark place that’s home to a multitude of strange people, all of them looking for a happy ending. Funny, cute, and nicely paced, it works like a well-oiled machine, entertaining adults and kids alike. Under Chelsea Haberlin’s direction, the talented cast keeps everything moving at breakneck speed.

Ryan Hesp’s Prince craves adventure and has an insatiable eye for the ladies, constantly finding himself engaged to needy princesses. Hesp brings great moments of humour to his arrogant and entitled alter-ego. Peter Carlone is suitably creepy as Fred, the sinister fellow based on the story of Bluebeard, who warns his ladylove not to look inside his secret room. Carlone also plays band member Donkey with a gleeful dazedness. Ingrid Hansen’s physical transformation into the Cat is a neat combination of hands curling into paws and long legs moving with feline agility.

If watching Colby Wilson and Katie Hood interact as German siblings Hansel and Gretel doesn’t bring a smile to your face, check for a heartbeat — their enthusiasm is contagious. Wilson’s comedic timing and off-handed improv style elicit bursts of unrestrained laughter, particularly when catching the small bits he mutters offhandedly. His wide, innocent eyes and loose attachment to his accent are incredibly charming. Hood is a tiny terror, and she perfectly captures the older-sister vibe, half-heartedly attempting to reel in Hansel’s impulsive whimsy, playing the perfect straight woman. She gets to show off her kick-ass girl power as well, as she questions why only pretty girls get happy endings before facing off against her evil stepmother in the candy-coated gingerbread house.

Some of the fairytale adaptations are particularly ingenious: The Princess and the Frog is given a modern twist to mock society’s predilection for reality television — it’s knowing and clever without being too moralistic. The Bluebeard adaptation is a curious inclusion, since it’s unlikely to ring familiar to most people, but it’s so supremely creepy and dark that it stands out as one of the play’s most memorable moments. Plus, some of the female characters that get short shrift in the original versions of these stories are now empowered 21st-century types. (But only some. Others are firmly rooted in a permanently shallow state.)

The ragtag group of musicians that follows the action of each vignette make for a great addition to Grimm Tales. The band is composed of animals casually referred to as Puss, Buns, Cock, and Ass (though not credited as such in the program), and it’s this sly combination of sex, drugs and rock ’n’ roll that glides over little ones’ heads and right into the heart of the dirty 12-year-old inside us all.

That lack of finesse sometimes extends to Grimm Tales’ unsubtle social commentary, which needs more refinement so that the play feels less like a PSA. Set in a war-torn Enchanted Woods, the peasants are starving while the King feasts. The King has also paved over nature, reared a shallow and shrill daughter, and boasts a Southern accent. And the band’s politics, while funny, segues into a ‘Don’t Do Worms’ (which is to say, drugs) campaign that feels a bit tired.

Grimm Tales is an eventful walk in the woods, made far more interesting by its myriad moments of magic and malice — a welcome end to the summer theatre season. 

Metamorphoses

My review of Metamorphoses appeared in last week's WE.

Metamorphoses
By Andrea Warner

Based on Ovid’s poem of the same name, Metamorphoses packs 13 myths into 85 minutes — an infinitely more entertaining and intelligent approach than your average copy of CliffsNotes. It captivated New York audiences with its modern adaptation of classic stories, winning a Best Director Tony award in 2002.

It’s a tough and challenging play, but director Christine Willes gets the majority of her young cast to meet the challenge with the ferocity of a scorned Aphrodite. That is to say, these kids are kicking ass and taking names — and they mostly do it all soaking wet.

It’s impossible to talk further about the actors’ portrayals without first discussing the inventive and seemingly impossible requirement of a medium-sized, freestanding, three-foot-tall kiddie pool at the centre of the raised wooden octagon that serves as the stage. The pool is filled with real water, and the actors move in, out, and through it with gusto, so keep in mind that there is a general splash zone of the first two rows on either side of the room. The presence and utilization of the water never feels gimmicky, either; it’s a dynamic force that adapts with remarkable ease to every myth.

Tasked with the challenge of bringing iconic characters to life, sometimes in as little as 45 seconds, the cast is composed of recent grads of the William Davis Centre. There are only 10 actors for 85 parts, so there’s a minimal amount of time to make an impact with the audience, yet several performances resonate deeply.

Of the actors who show the most promise, Chris Ireland proves he’s far more than a pretty, chiseled face within the first five minutes, as his brooding and greedy King Midas storms the stage. Robert Tadashi is magnificent as Cinyras, father of Michelle Kim’s Myrrah, who is punished by Aphrodite to lust after and seduce dear ol’ dad. Kim delves deep to bring Myrrah’s conflicting sides out under the magnifying glass of human judgment — she knows her desire is wrong, yet Kim brings such sensuality to their love scenes, one can’t help but be lost in the uncomfortable moment.

Metamorphoses’ own Achilles heel is the amount of time spent on Orpheus and Eurydice, the couple who must battle the underworld — and trust — to be reunited. Whereas most of the other segments breeze along with little dawdling, this myth gets treated to two interpretations, and it stalls the momentum. At times, the line deliveries also feel rushed, like perhaps the actor reading the material doesn’t fully understand the impact a pause or even a gesture would make in manipulating the dialogue’s context.

Think of Metamorphoses as Speed Greek, brought to you by the next generation of Vancouver theatre stars. These are mere mortals disguised as gods, and the transformation is almost flawless.

To Aug. 16 at Pacific Theatre (1420 W. 12th), 8 p.m. (Thurs.) and 7 & 9:30 p.m. (Fri.-Sat.). Tickets $18-$25 from Biz Books (302 Cordova) and PacificTheatre.org

Out on Screen Turns 20

My interview with the founders and current Out On Screen staff appears in this week's Xtra! West.

LOOKING FORWARD TO 20 MORE YEARS. Out on Screen's programming director Vanessa Kwan (right, with executive director Drew Dennis) says she's thrilled with the growth of The festival. (ANDREA WARNER PHOTO) Originally just three days long and managed by a half-dozen volunteers without any funding, Vancouver's Queer Film Festival celebrates its 20th anniversary this year when it opens Aug 14. Though it scarcely resembles its humble origins, the festival has continued to thrive by staying true to its film fest roots while expanding its role within the queer community. Out on Screen (OOS), the society that produces the annual festival, now boasts paid staff, year-round programming, and over 250 volunteers. Even its modest headquarters on Hastings St are a long way from the West End living room where the original board members gathered to hash out everything from the festival lineup to gender politics. Conceived as a cultural component for the 1990 Gay Games, OOS held its first film festival in 1989 as a trial run and is now the second oldest festival of its kind in Canada. Louise Pohl, one of OOS' founding board members, recalls some of the initial challenges. "I hadn't done anything like this before, and then before I knew it I was president of the board," she laughs. "We had no money. In the first year we did a 24-hour Worst Movie Marathon and used the money from that for the first festival." Chris Adkins, also part of the founding festival board, recalls the challenge of finding films for the first festival. "There were a lot fewer outlets then," Adkins says. "It was tough finding out about films and where to get them. Now there's a huge circuit of queer film festivals." That first festival showed just four features and a couple of short films; the first film the festival screened, Salut Victor, offered a rare glimpse of two men falling in love in a nursing home. This year, there are 110 features and shorts in the festival lineup. Pohl says she was particularly drawn to volunteer with Out on Screen as it offered her a chance to work with both gays and lesbians towards a common goal: finding films to reflect as many queer realities as possible. "It was lesbians and gay men working together for the first time, and I think there's a lot of polarizing that goes on in the community," she says. "I wanted to do something that would cross that divide." Another founding member, Graham Peat, recalls the difficulty in uniting these voices under one festival. "It was a challenge because there were never as many films made back then for women or by women about lesbian issues as there were about gay men, who had more power, more cameras, and everything else," Peat says. As the community became more united in its efforts to promote the arts, there was also an internal shift towards stabilizing the administration, taking OOS to the next level by providing more opportunities for community involvement and engagement. Having survived its first five years without funding, OOS received its first grant in 1993, beginning its gradual evolution into a multi-faceted arts and culture organization. Vanessa Kwan, OOS' current director of programming, says she's thrilled by the festival's expansion into workshops, master classes, performances, parties, visual arts shows and musical events. "Film is a really great medium, and we kind of treat it as a gateway to all the other things that artists are doing in tandem with their film practices," Kwan says. "In terms of pushing the medium forward, we're really interested in seeing all those other art forms that intersect with film in a meaningful way." In 2004, OOS launched the Out in Schools project, bringing independent queer film into high schools. The Queer History Project started in 2007, commissioning works that will help document local queer voices and their stories. On Aug 14, the history project's online component will launch as an interactive website where queer people will be invited to share videos, audio, photos, and other art forms. "It's the idea that the community will be able to recreate, recapture, re-imagine, and explore queer histories," says Drew Dennis, OOS' executive director. "[The community] doesn't really have an oral history that's passed down from generation to generation. Very rarely are we born into queer families." Pohl too is grateful to see OOS continued expansion. "It just makes my heart warm getting the program every year," she says. " It was all so grassroots compared with how it is now. It was a lot of hard work and a very steep learning curve. We were there because we really wanted this to happen." Dennis and Kwan are equally committed to making it happen, and neither wants to dwell too long basking in the glory of OOS' 20th anniversary. It's "important to think about the next 20 years now," says Dennis.

VANCOUVER QUEER FILM FESTIVAL. Aug 14-24. www.queerfilmfestival.ca.

What does the rainbow mean to you?

My streeter at Pride appears in this edition of Xtra! West.

Interviews and photos by Andrea Warner

ABBY, VANCOUVER

What does the rainbow mean to you?

It makes me crave Skittles... No, it's a symbol of Pride worldwide, and a symbol of diversity.

How would you feel if the rainbows came down on Davie St?

I wouldn't like that. I like that we have a section where everyone knows that's the gay area of Vancouver, but where everyone is welcome.


BING, CHINA

What does the rainbow mean to you?

Diversity. I used to live in the West End, and I think it's a very good community here. Lots of possibility.

How would you feel if the rainbows came down on Davie St?

It's a little bit of a shame.

We came over here, and it's the best feature of Davie St.


SIENA AND KALEIGH, MAPLE RIDGE

What does the rainbow mean to you?

Sienna: It means Kaleigh!

Kaleigh: She's my straight supporter.

Sienna: I have a lot of gay friends, and I just support them all.

Kaleigh: The rainbow —it's such a bright, not easily unnoticed symbol. It's almost like the symbol itself is refusing to stay in the closet.

It's out there, it's a proud colour, it's there! The flag means being out there with who you are, not caring what anyone else says.

How would you feel if the rainbows came down on Davie St?

Sienna: I'd be very upset, I'd be confused. Why would they bring them down? Would they not want to support it?

Kaleigh: Why don't you just rename the street and change all the stores? It wouldn't be Davie. Come on.


GEORGE, VANCOUVER

What does the rainbow mean to you?

It's a lively sign of integrating people. When I see it, I know it expresses fairness.

How would you feel if the rainbows came down on Davie St?

It really doesn't worry me too much, just as long as we know what Davie St's about.


JOCELYNN, VICTORIA

What does the rainbow mean to you?

By the end of Pride season, if I see another rainbow flag, I want to scream. That being said, if they were to come down from Davie and all the other streets across Canada, it would be like taking away our sense of belonging. It says this is our place, this is our space.

It's hopefully a safe, open, accepting community.


ZIAD (LEFT) WITH STEINI, VANCOUVER

What does the rainbow mean to you?

Ziad: Multiculturalism. Everybody getting together, literally all the colours.

How would you feel if the rainbows came down on Davie St?

Ziad: That would be a bad thing. It really tells people, when they're walking up the road, that they're in the Village as opposed to any other part of town. It would be no different than having BC Place remove all the sports stuff, same with Chinatown, same with Main St. Get rid of one sign, get rid of them all, otherwise there's no distinction. It's just greater Vancouver.


MARLAS AND SHANNON, VANCOUVER

What does the rainbow mean to you?

Marlas: Diversity, different flavours, different cultures, different colours. Not just straight or gay but all different types of people.

Shannon: It means unity, diversity and harmony for all people, all colours.

How would you feel if the rainbows came down on Davie St?

Marlas: I love them up there.

I think it's great for when you walk into a new city it tells you right away that it's a gay-friendly community, and I would find that very welcome if I wasn't from here.

Shannon: I would be really sorry if the rainbows came down. I like that they create an identity for the community as a gay-friendly and distinct neighbourhood. I also think that this makes a city culturally rich.


JOHN, VANCOUVER

What does the rainbow mean to you?

It means all queer people together in solidarity.

How would you feel if the rainbows came down on Davie St?

I like that they're there, but I don't mind if they're represented in a slightly different way. I think they should be there frequently, but I don't think we own the neighbourhood. I think we need to live along with everyone who lives there.


TANYA, NORTH BURNABY

What does the rainbow mean to you?

To be proud, and it actually makes me smile every day.

How would you feel if the rainbows came down on Davie St?

I think it symbolizes the community, so I think it would detrimental to the community. I feel that if people come down here, they know that they're in somewhat of a safer environment than travelling in Burnaby for instance, where there is no rainbow flag.

Amal

My review of Amal appears in this week's WE.

Amal
By Andrea Warner
4 stars

The warmth of the lovely Indian fairytale, Amal, floods out from every corner of the screen. The natural light, a beautiful song of lament, the kind eyes of it’s titular hero—this is a film that hugs you with virtually every frame.

Less a man than a tall, bearded saint, Rupinder Nagra’s Amal is a simple auto rickshaw driver in New Dheli who’s carrying on his father’s legacy of hard work for a fair price. His work ethic and character impress the an old stodgy grump disguised as a vagrant, played with delightful vigor by Naseeruddin Shah, who is secretly a very rich man looking for a single shred of humanity to believe in. His chance meeting with Amal has the effect of a butterfly flapping its wings—soon everyone is affected.

Amal’s stubbornly strong principles keep him chastely admiring his beautiful customer, Koel Purie’s Pooja, a no-nonsense businesswoman who could learn a thing or two about kindness. When Amal is involved in an accident where a young girl is involved in a hit and run, he begins working overtime to afford her hospital bills. This sets off Amal’s own unusual journey as he tries to find a way to keep up with the expenses.

There’s something very special about a film that celebrates values over money without succumbing to preachy rhetoric. Amal takes plenty of sharp left turns in its story, but the surprises are miniature studies in sociology and the goodness of people. It’s Chai for the tortured soul.

Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2

My review of Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 appears in this week's WE.

Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2
By Andrea Warner
3 stars


Gasps, groans, and collective “awwwwwwwws”—these are the sounds of tween girls hearts alternately breaking, bursting, and ballooning with love at the infectiously fun and flawed return of the four best friends who magically fit one pair of truly hideous looking but downright durable jeans.

Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 picks up the summer after the girls first year of college. Each one has gone on to great schools, living out their dreams—these are the role models every liberal parent dreams about. Almost.

Alexis Bledel’s Lena is trying to deal with love trouble (a decidedly grown-up trouble, so parents of young kids be aware) while Blake Lively’s Bridget is dealing with the ramifications of her mother’s depression and suicide. Amber Tamblyn’s Tibby is saddled with the most ridiculous storyline (again, parents, if you don’t want to address birds and the bees, see something else) whereas America Ferrara’s Carmen is facing the bigger reality of the loneliness and insecurity that often shapes one’s first year away from home.

The actors are a charming group, and surviving the bridge between high school and college provides material that’s emotional, funny, and sweet. But, the film goes on forever, and some of the plot points (going back and forth to Greece is as easy as going to the store for milk) stretch the already thin confines of believability. But, one thing is clear—magical pants, boys, even dreams may come and go, but best friends are forever.

A Jihad for Love-Parvez Sharma interview

My interview with A Jihad for Love's director, Parvez Sharma appears in Xtra! West this week. Pick up a copy if you can!

Making A Jihad for Love
By Andrea Warner

A Jihad for Love is a film over five years in the making, spanning 12 countries, and nine languages, but director Parvez Sharma feels all the hard work was worth it, if only to give a voice to the Muslim world's most unlikely storytellers: Queer people.

Sharma arrived in New York just as the city experienced the 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Centre that sent shockwaves throughout the planet—ones that can still be felt today. Sharma's existence was fraught with duality and he began to experience a wholly different kind of intolerance: it was one thing to be gay in America in 2001, but to be Muslim? That was just asking for trouble.

"No one was speaking about the kind of Islam I knew when I was growing up and I felt that I needed to come out as a Muslim," Sharma says, over the phone from his home in New York. "[The film's] not just about being gay or lesbian. You are claiming your faith and that was the primary imperative for me--to take some of the discourse about Islam away from the violent fringe."

For starters, he named the film A Jihad for Love. In the Western world, the word jihad has come to be associated with terrorist attacks, CNN stories, and has fueled a tremendous amount of Christian fundamentalist propaganda. In actuality, Sharma says, the term means a deep, personal struggle, and this struggle for love is what he documents as the film's subjects reconcile sexuality with religious beliefs.

Sharma acknowledges that homosexuality is not a very visible part of current Islam, but insists that this is a relatively recent development (the last 30-40 years, documented in Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis), and that there is still space for gays in the Muslim world, even if those spaces flout conventional ideals.

"Very often we adopt an arrogant Western perspective towards analyzing life in Muslim countries," Sharma says. "Islam has a tradition of homosexuality being celebrated in the arts and the culture for hundreds of years. And it has existed even as a part of the mainstream."

According to Sharma, it's sometimes even a rite of passage for people to have same-sex relationships before they enter into marriage, and that due to its patriarchal structure; this actually creates a uniquely double-edged sword regarding lesbianism in Muslim society.

"Women's sexuality is often denied, it's simply not discussed, and sometimes in that realm of invisibility, [lesbianism] can exist in a much more fluid way than male homosexuality, which would be seen as threatening," Sharma says.

The question of coming out takes on an entirely different scope when committing one's story to film for the entire world to see. Sharma spent many years carefully crafting relationships with his subjects, building friendships between people who had often struggled alone, insular in their religious and sexual identity. Though prepared for the obvious obstacles of secretly filming a gay documentary in Muslim countries, Sharma found some unexpected opposition from the gay Muslim community.

"Anytime when a community is repressed and silenced, and when someone steps out of that silence, dares to do something, then people react to that." Sharma says. "People didn't want to trust me. But, being a Muslim, I was filming with that Muslim lens; I was very critical of how much of myself I had to give. Many of the really remarkable people in this film were breaking a tremendous silence, sharing what is deeply personal."

Despite the initial wariness from the community, the film has resonated with audiences of all varieties: queer, straight, Muslim, Christian, even atheists have been fascinated at Love's intimate examination of faith and sexuality, but the real challenge is getting the film shown in Muslim countries.

"I showed the film in Turkey and the response was amazing, and in my home country, India," Sharma says. "But I really hope I can take the film to Arab countries one day, that I can show the film in Iran. A few people have been smuggling tapes into Pakistan, for example, where they've organized screenings already in the last few months, so I hope efforts like that will continue so that people who really need to see the film are able to."

This is where Love works on multiple levels: aspects of the movie are meant to lift the veil of silence on homosexuality for Muslims and people in Arab countries, while other parts of the film serve to expand the Western idea of what it really means to be gay and Muslim. Sharma, for one, is wary of the North American tendency to impose its Western ideals.

"The question really, is who gets to define freedom, and on whose terms?" Sharma says. "Are we going to dictate freedoms based on our concepts of what it means to be gay in the west to more traditional ancient cultures? Or, are we going to allow them to develop their own concepts of sexual freedom? I very much lean towards the latter."

Ultimately, Love is also meant to reach out to gays who feel an affinity for a higher power, but may have felt the need to sacrifice their religious beliefs when they claimed their sexual identity. Sharma himself comes from a relatively secular background (he did not attend religious school like many young Muslims) and had already dealt with coming out during his late teens, but he says he developed a great respect for Islam through his film's subjects. He hopes Love will assist other queer people to reconcile their spiritual beliefs.

"I realized through the most trying times, these people (the film subjects) drew sustenance from Islam and what they believed to be their Islam. And that, for me, was very empowering," Sharma says. "I think the film is expanding the consciousness of the audience who is watching it. Not just expanding the understanding of Islam, but faith, which many queer people abandon because they don't find spaces for themselves within faith."

The Last Continent review

My review of the Last Continent appears in this week's WestEnder. Pick up a copy today if you can!

The Last Continent
By Andrea Warner
3 stars

Majestic glaciers crumble piece by mountainous piece in Jean Lemire’s documentary The Last Continent. Each chunk of ice that cracks free plunges into the water with such a thunderously cold splash, the chills that chase up your spine are as much from a sense of foreboding as brilliant cinematography. We are watching the earth, and quite possibly the future, melt.

Lemire is the lead adventurer/biologist/filmmaker who decided to lead a crew of 13 people and voluntarily strand themselves in the Antarctic ice pack to document the affects of climate change in one of the world’s least observed places. The concept is unique and undeniably cool: the crew will be veritable hostages aboard their boat, Sedna IV, for the nine months of Antarctic winter once the ice pack sets in.

Ultimately, the team become unknowing victims of the climate change they set out to document—rising temperatures delay the ice packs and put the crew’s lives and sanity at risk. But this is where the unpredictability of documentary filmmaking becomes a liability: there are too many scenes of crewmembers frolicking, floundering, and feeling frustrated as global warming stalls their progress and proves their point simultaneously. And, the strangely sudden ending may take the film full circle, but knowing what came of the crew’s observations would help the film resonate more profoundly.

The Last Continent may be as uneven as the choppy ocean waters it dwells in, but it’s impossible to deny the film takes us on an unforgettable journey.

Deerhunter preview

My preview of Deerhunter appears in this week's Charleston City Paper!

Deerhunter w/ All the Saints

Thu., July 31.
By Andrea Warner

Atlanta’s Deerhunter is a band of startlingly high contrast. The quintet’s website is self-hosted on a free blogspot account, yet their live shows have been hailed as a “religious experience” by Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. They list influences such as Echo & The Bunnymen and David Bowie, but their newest album, Microcastle, earned them an opening gig for Nine Inch Nails. Deerhunter’s first two albums made them critics’ darlings and hipster favorites. Spend a little time sampling concert footage from their website and it’s not hard to understand why. Beautifully layered songs hypnotize with complex lyrics and relentless rhythms, guitars, and keyboards that evolve into long, drawn-out jams that showcase the band’s mastery. Lucky concertgoers will hopefully be treated to a few tracks from their newest album, particularly “Never Stops” which sounds like it could have been a lost track from Elliot Smith’s earlier days or the wonderfully inventive “Little Kids demo.” —Andrea Warner

Theatre Under the Stars reviews

My review of TUTS appears in this week's WestEnder. Pick up a copy if you get the chance!

TUTS review
By Andrea Warner


TUTS 62nd season offers Jesus Christ Superstar and Annie Get Your Gun, two distinct choices for fans of musical theatre: a 70s-infused rock opera from Andrew Lloyd Webber versus the lovely old fashioned songs of Irving Berlin, with good ol’ day themes of sexism and racism.

Annie Get Your Gun, while certainly not flawless, makes a winner out of its star Meghan Anderssen. Though she’s been encouraged to dial up the “Gosh darn, har har” backwoods aspects to her Annie Oakley character (there are enough snorting laughs to think the character was directly influenced by Chrissy Snow from television’s Three’s Company), eventually she settles into a nice balance between fierce tomboy and charming young woman. It helps that Anderssen’s voice is powerful and that her solos captivate. The huge dance numbers are nicely choreographed and offer a charming reminder of great musicals past.

Jesus Christ Superstar makes martyrs out of its unsuspecting audience. From start to finish the young cast is certainly energetic, but under Gillian Barber’s direction her main male leads confuse crescendo with crash and burn. Adam Charles’ Judas screams and shrieks his way through almost every number, stripping away every ounce of sympathy the character is supposed to have. Mat Baker’s Jesus has all the charisma of a wooden Gap model. And, the choreography by Troy McLaughlin seems to have very little to do with the actual lyrics of the songs. The crucifixion couldn’t come fast enough.

Titus Andronicus

My review of Bard on the Beach's Titus Andronicus appears in this week's WestEnder. Pick up a copy if you get a chance!

Titus Andronicus
By Andrea Warner


Considered one of the most structurally problematic of Shakespeare’s plays, and certainly his most violent and bloody, Titus Andronicus is often dismissed in favour of staging more straightforward tragedies such as Macbeth or Hamlet. Thank goodness Kim Collier (making her directorial debut with Bard on the Beach) possesses no such fears about grappling with such dark material.

Collier’s Titus Andronicus is relentlessly gripping and disturbingly modern as themes of revenge and evil reveal themselves in unthinkable and senselessly violent acts. Titus returns from war, victorious, with Tamora, Queen of the Goths, and her children as prisoners. Titus, mourning the loss of his sons in battle, sacrifices Tamora’s eldest child and she vows her revenge. Saturninus, the new Emperor, wishes to marry Lavinia, but Bassiana (a male character in the original Titus, but overtly lesbian here to complement Collier’s 21st century setting), his sister, has already claimed Lavinia as her own. Saturninus takes Tamora as his wife, who continues to dally with Aaron, her Moorish lover, the puppeteer who orchestrates the vile and contemptuous chain of events that follow.

This is the same cast that sparkles so brightly in the delightful Tempest. The material is strikingly different, and the cast nimbly and successfully delivers fantastic performances with characters that are polar opposites.

Omari Newton’s Aaron is a solid presence as the devil’s henchman, glowering and conniving, manipulating Tamora and her Euro-trash psycho sons into doing his bidding. Newton is a physically powerful actor, but the character doesn’t have much depth except that he loves to do bad things. It will be interesting to see what Newton does with a truly three-dimensional role in the future.

Jennifer Lines’ Tamora could not be more opposite than her Tempest character, Ariel. The physical transformation is wondrous: she fills out the tight confines of Tamora’s outrageous outfits and spiked heels, exuding authority and confidence, asserting her sexuality with every word. The skin crawls when Tamora instructs her sons to be as violent as possible when raping Lavinia, directly proportionate to their love for their mother.

Julie McIsaac (Lavinia), Charles Christien Gallant (Demetrius), and Kyle Rideout (Chiron) are tasked with the most disturbing scenes. McIssac is truly devastating as she pleads to be spared and then pleads for her death before the brothers take her offstage for the attack. In the aftermath of the attack, as McIssac lies bloodied and battered on the ground, Gallant taunts her and Rideout takes out a digital camera, posing beside her and laughingly taking pictures. Their off-handed and casual glee in having repeatedly raped and then mutilated Lavinia is affectively sickening.

Russell Roberts, as the title character, carries the weight of the world on Titus’s shoulders, but he’s never more effective than in Titus’s debilitating discovery of Lavinia’s rape and torture. He cries real tears, and conveys beautifully Titus’s realization that he’s powerless to protect his children. Later, Roberts takes great pleasure in one of the production’s few funny moments, as he pretends to be crazy to fool Tamora and her sons. Finally, as he succumbs to the madness of his revenge, slitting Chiron and Demetrius’s throats, then feeding the boys to their mother in a baked pie, Roberts makes Titus’s descent painfully human.

The blood flows as freely in Titus as the wine did in Tempest, but it never feels silly or gimmicky. Each violent act resonates deeply so don’t be surprised if by the intermission you feel physically ill. This Titus Andronicus packs an emotional punch that is so visceral, you’ll wonder if maybe you didn’t leave part of yourself behind when the lights come up.

Space Chimps

My review of Space Chimps, a polar opposite experience from my review of Batman, also in this week's WestEnder.

Space Chimps

By Andrea Warner

0 stars

Monkeys in space probably sounded like a sure-fire hit to the Hollywood hotshots who gave this god-awful CGI movie the green light. It’s easy to score laughs (and some quick cash) with a monkey barrel’s worth of bad chimp puns— ‘cause kids are dumb, right?

Wrong. A big, fat, resounding silence greeted most of Space Chimps lame jokes, despite an audience laden with (I’m guessing) the studio’s target demographic: three to six year olds eating popcorn and drinking Coke at 10am on a Saturday morning.

In the film, The Space Program faces termination if a chimp-manned space shuttle cannot successfully return with proof of life on another planet. But, they need a “star” chimp to get more press for the expedition, so they recruit Ham III, grandson of the late, famous monkey astronaut, Ham. But, oh no! Ham III is self-involved, obnoxious, and just wants to (pardon the pun) monkey around in the circus as an entertainer.

As voiced by Andy Samberg (SNL, Hot Rod), Ham III is entirely unappealing and unfunny. Cheryl Hines and Patrick Warburton play along gamely as fellow chimps Luna and Titan, but it’s the equivalent of monkeys throwing feces at a wall—the jokes won’t stick no matter how much gusto they’re delivered with.

Most studios can’t rival the brilliance of CGI giant Pixar, but Space Chimps is so uninspired and dated, it feels as if it languished on the shelf for the last 20 years. The images are flat and lifeless, and the alien creatures that Ham and friends encounter look as if they were rendered by a five year old who lacks imagination. Space Chimps stalls, sputters, and dies before ever lifting off.

The Dark Knight

My review of The Dark Knight appears in today's WestEnder. Pick up a copy of WE today if you get a chance!

The Dark Knight

By Andrea Warner

4 stars

From the stomach-dropping opening sequence to the carefully orchestrated explosions to the twisted grimace of a scar slashed into a much mourned face, The Dark Knight tries to throw off the black veil of its troubled origins and becomes what it was meant to be: a kick ass summer blockbuster. It can’t quite escape the long shadow of Heath Ledger’s death, but it works overtime to make sure the audience gets plenty of bang for their buck.

Christian Bale returns as Batman (and Bruce Wayne), whose newest foe is his most formidable: the sick, psychotic Joker (the late Heath Ledger), whose sole motivation is to knock society’s saviours off their paper-thin pedestals. Aaron Ekhart’s Harvey Dent is the new District Attorney and he and Batman quickly become just the twin towers the Joker needs to topple to prove his point. Relationship drama comes courtesy of Maggie Gyllenhaal’s Rachel Dawes, Batman/Bruce Wayne’s long-standing love and Dent’s girlfriend.

Ekhart’s chiseled jaw and full head of shiny blond hair speak volumes about the kind of hero he seems destined to become. Gyllenhaal has precious little to do here, but her few lines permit her trademark playful intelligence to shine through. And, the neatly layered yet frenetic action sequences show plenty of cool tricks. (Want to know to flip a semi? Learn here!)

That The Dark Knight ultimately becomes Ledger’s movie is a fitting tribute. Ledger immerses himself inside the Joker, perfecting a gait, voice, and nuanced ticks and twitches to complement the creepy laugh and moments of impossible humour that make the Joker so deliciously, frighteningly evil. It’s a character study so complete, even the dark knight himself knows he’s second fiddle.

The Tempest

My review of the Tempest appears in this week's WE. Pick up a copy today!

The Tempest

By Andrea Warner

Like the very word from which it derives its name, The Tempest, has proved to be an uncontrollable force in Shakespeare’s canon. Originally labeled a comedy, it has gone on to defy scholarly expectations because of a deceptively simple narrative that masks grander themes of vengeance, the occult, and colonialist tendencies. That Shakespeare was a tricky guy, and he’s met his match in Meg Roe’s wonderfully magical reinvention of The Tempest.

Prospero —a Duke usurped by his brother, Antonio—washed up on a magical island with his daughter Miranda fifteen years ago. Prospero seized control of the island from the witch, Sycorax, and has enslaved her deformed son, Caliban. Ariel, a sprite, is eager to be freed from Prospero’s service, but is held to one more day of service as Prospero enacts revenge upon his brother, and washes the King’s boat ashore, stranding Antonio, the King, and several members of the King’s court. Prospero separates the Prince from his father, in the hopes that the Prince and Miranda will fall in love.

The Tempest’s opening minutes are electrifying, indicative of what’s to follow. With the use of a simple heavy rope, the cast and crew physically form the hull of the ill-fated ship, and struggle against the commanding storm Prospero has raised. It’s no easy feat to simulate a believable storm, and there were more than a few audience members steadying themselves in their seats throughout the sequence.

The ongoing physicality of the supporting actors is impressive, particularly Hamza Adam, Omari Newton, and Charles Christien Gallant, as Spirits and various mariners. Their movements are lithe and graceful, but strong, and bring remarkable energy to the stage.

Jennifer Lines’ great performance is also due in part to her physical embodiment of Ariel: eager to please (her knees turn in and one foot juts out in nervousness); desperate to know if Prospero really loves her (her face a mixture of hope and yearning); and anxious that her bidding buys her freedom (her eager flight for each task). Lines’ is incredibly light on her feet, and her energy never lags. She also possesses a lovely voice.

Allan Morgan delights in his character’s sadistic elements, but keeps Prospero playful as well. It’s hard to keep a steadying hand on Prospero’s multifaceted personality (perhaps also a commentary on mental illness?) but Morgan makes it effortless. And, his closing speech as Prospero asks the audience’s forgiveness is appropriately rueful—after all, to err is human.

Though the rest of the cast is also very talented, it’s Colleen Wheeler and Naomi Wright who steal the final accolades here as Stephana and Trincula, two ladies from the court who wash up on the island with a fondness for the drink. Their initial scene post shipwreck (mistaken identity, an eyebrow raising mounting) is possibly the funniest thing on stage this year. Wheeler (a modern-day Lucille Ball) plays up Stephana’s cougar-like shine to the slave Caliban (Bob Frazer), who proves game for anything, including foot licking.

Roe’s Tempest offers an onion worth of layered subtext: her clever changes—including gender swapping (as written originally, Miranda is the play’s only female role)—amp up the comedic and provocative nature of Shakespeare’s masterful use of language. This Tempest also plays up its kinkier side: master/slave relationships, interspecies romance, and sexual politics are featured prominently, all but obscuring the 400 year gap between its writing and this staging. The music is unobtrusive and effective, enriching scenes such as the beautiful wedding between Miranda and the Prince. Even the costuming and lighting are inventive. Fresh and frisky, this Tempest blows strong from start to finish.

Brick Lane review

My review of Brick Lane appears in this week's WestEnder. Pick up a copy of WE if you can!

Brick Lane
By Andrea Warner
Three stars

Brick Lane, based on the best-selling novel by Monica Ali, is a gloriously beautiful movie that should soar, but instead sags under director Sarah Gavron’s heavy hand.

Nazneen (Tannishtha Chatterjee) is just 17 when, following her mother's suicide, she’s sent away from her village in Bangladesh to London as part of an arranged marriage to a man twice her age. Flash-forward sixteen years and she’s still trying to make sense of her life, living in a cramped East End flat with her teenage daughters (one mutinous, one angelic) and her husband, Chanu (Satish Kaushik) — at best a Bengali Cliff Claven — who alternates between buffoon and bastard. Nazneen lives vicariously through her sister’s letters, desperate to return home and feel whole again.

Enter the handsome stranger, the young Karim, who delivers the garments Nazneen sews at home for money. A few shy glances from under her headscarf and a full on romance begins to bloom, against the backdrop of racial tension permeating London's streets and the world since 9/11. Karim’s youthful impulse leaves him vulnerable to the radical Muslim uprising, whereas Chanu becomes the surprising lone voice of reason. The problem is that Gavron initially plays up Chanu’s character defects so wholeheartedly, it makes it almost impossible to reconcile Nazneen’s renewed devotion to her husband and the film’s emotional end.

Brick Lane is a beautiful study in contrasts, textures, and color. Where London is sterile and drab (old buildings and nosy neighbours who live in boxes stacked like blocks of Lego), Bangladesh looks lush and vibrant through the soft lens of memory, childhood, and longing. Pretty to look at, Brick Lane is merely a melodrama masquerading as a story of female empowerment. Stare too long and the flaws become all too apparent.

Back Kitchen Release Party

My review of The Back Kitchen Release Party came out in today's WestEnder. Pick up a copy of WE if you can!

The Back Kitchen Release Party
By Andrea Warner

Start with a Newfoundland pastime that brings together friends, family, and fiddles for rollicking jams stemmed in Irish and Celtic traditional music; then add a bittersweet back-story, a road trip across Canada, and a left turn in the last act, and you have the bones for the new Canadian classic, The Back Kitchen Release Party.

The premise reunites The Back Kitchen band following the death of their beloved founder, Kate. It’s been five years since Kate and Maggie left Memorial, but band leader Ned is convinced that this is the perfect opportunity to fulfill Kate’s dream of playing a cross-country tour, arriving in Vancouver just in time to play her wake. There’s just one problem: Maggie, Ned’s ex and Kate’s cousin, is now a violinist in the Toronto Symphony and is weary of getting caught up in the past.

It’s impossible to dwell on the storyline and characters without revealing some key plot points that are better left unspoiled. It’s better to focus on the great songs, good music, and the multi-talented actors who propel Party forward, taking a “real Newfie band from sunrise to sunset.” The cast proves themselves talented musicians whose voices blend into beautiful harmonies, but the male performers have better acting material to work with than their female counterparts.

Trevor Devall plays a classically charming no-hoper who gets by on the stubborn certainty of dreamers. He’s also Party’s playwright, and does a mean Captain Kirk impression. He hits all the right notes as an actor as well thanks largely to the lovely ballad “Maggie” that helps the whole band begin to heal. Jonathan Teague secures plenty of laughs, whether wielding a fishing net or a drum, and watching his character struggle to overcome his fears is funny and heartwarming.

Sarah Donald has been blessed with a unique voice and a wholesome appearance, but she’s mostly tasked with smiling beatifically throughout the first act, a supporting character if there ever was one. Sarah May Redmond seems born to help lead a Celtic band: her voice is big and clear, her accordion never looks unwieldy in her arms, and out of everyone, she appears to be having the most fun. It’s unfortunate that she’s saddled with the one character that is mostly just caricature and never quite feels real. Tracey Power, who wrote several of Party’s songs, brings her sizzling fiddle skills to the mix, but most of her scenes opposite Devall fall flat—the back-story between their characters lacks believability.

The musical standouts include the opener “Farewell to Betsy Mae”, a robust tune with plenty of tongue-in-cheek moments that captures the spirit of Newfoundland. “McCoy’s Privateers” is a hilarious ode to Star Trek. Donald and Redmond’s voices blend perfectly on “I Am a Sailor.” And, “Kate’s Song” could elicit tears from a statue.

When Party strays from the singing, the dialogue drifts between awesome and awful. Awesome: “Toronto is really rubbin’ off on you. You only been here a day and you’re already an arsehole.” Awful: “You have the right notes, Ned. You just have to know how to use them.” Thankfully this is mostly a live action concept album—that happens to be held on a stage.

Party got its start as a Fringe show, which is evident in its plucky and lively staging, the inventiveness of the songs, and the sparse set decoration. The cast does a brilliant job at bringing the band to life—the pent-up excitement of a five-year reunion is palpable, and the songs are good foot-stomping fun. This Back Kitchen is cookin’ with gas!

Honouring Our Elders

I covered the Honouring Our Elders tea party on June 29th for Xtra! West. It was a great afternoon of meeting amazing people in Vancouver's queer community.

Honouring Our Elders
By Andrea Warner

Many of Vancouver's queer elders have been pioneers in the fight to live openly and honestly, despite facing years of hostility, discrimination and just plain ignorance. On Jun 29, The Centre dedicated an afternoon to honouring our community's trailblazers at its fifth annual Honouring Our Elders high tea, held at the Coast Plaza Hotel. With over 90 people in attendance, there were plenty of amazing memories to share and struggles to celebrate. Here are a few of their stories.

Basil Hunter and Frank Allison

Hunter and Allison, now both in their 90s, celebrated their 50th anniversary on Valentine's Day earlier this year.Both musicians, the couple played together for nine years at the Press Club in the 1960s, entertaining Vancouver's elite and visiting entertainers.Hunter wrote "Pacific Rhapsody and Brideship Ballet," which became part of BC's centennial celebrations.They count Phyllis Diller amongst their close friends, and they didn't let little things like a bum hip or knee keep them away from busting out a duet on the piano to everyone's delight.

Hunter: "When I saw her [Diller] in the dressing room [at the Cave], she was a mess and she said, 'What do you think of my hairdo, Basil?'"And I said, 'What did you do it with, Phyllis? An electric toothbrush?'"She said, 'Can I use that?' And I said 'That's a line you can have.'"And you can still hear her today using that on TV."

Gayle Roberts

After wrestling for years with her desire to transition to female, Roberts finally took the plunge in her early 50s, risking a lengthy career as a high school teacher and her personal relationships. Now she's finding a new voice as a writer.

Roberts: "This is a celebration that things are getting better all the time. When I made that decision to transition, all that pain I'd been feeling all of my life suddenly just ended, and I've never looked back. One student told me she thought I was brave and an inspiration, and I think in that sense you're a pioneer because by your example you're making it easier for other people."

Chris Morrissey and Bridget Coll

Together for over 30 years, thorny immigration issues became the thrust of an ultimately successful federal legal challenge as Morrissey (Canadian) fought to have Coll (Irish with US citizenship) recognized as her spouse so they could settle together here.Morrissey is now the program manager of The Centre's Generations Project, which hosted the high tea.

Morrissey: "There isn't much visibility with older queers, and it's really important to acknowledge their lives.

"I'm the first Canadian to file a suit in federal court to be able to sponsor my partner. We came back from Latin America and we decided to settle in Canada. We tried every normal way, so we had to file a suit with federal court. We didn't have to go to court because immigration stepped in and [granted Coll residency]. But we've worked getting the legislation changed to include same-sex partners in family class for immigration."

Ellen Woodsworth

Woodsworth came out in 1972 and has spent her life advocating for gay and lesbian rights and other equality issues. She also served as Vancouver's first openly lesbian city councilor from 2002-2005.She revealed at the high tea that she'll be seeking a seat on city council again in this fall's municipal election.

Woodsworth: "I was one of the early people in this country out and working for gay and lesbian rights in the late '60s, early '70s. I know the world is way, way better than we ever thought it could be because we organized together, we stood up, and we fought back, but it's not good enough yet and we have to keep working together."

Christine Waymark and Robin Rennie

Together since 1981, the couple has fought plenty of uphill battles. Rennie says she brought gay and lesbian rights into the programming at Family Services in the late 1970s. In the 1980s, Waymark says she was a candidate for ministry in the United Church when she was outed by a committee member and dismissed from the remaining finalists.

Rennie: "When I first came out [in 1972] it was a very hard thing to come out. There was nothing to come out to. I felt very alone..."I applied for the [Family Services] job not knowing that they were actually looking for somebody who was out. It turned out they wanted me to go out into the community and solicit people who would become involved with Family Services programs. I think it went very slowly, but it was wonderful."

Waymark: "When I was outed, I decided to become active and become honest. I got dropped as a candidate and I went on to be in AFFIRM, the United Church organization of gays and lesbians. I was the only lesbian to write the report that eventually led to the ordination of gays and lesbians in the United Church in '88."

It's really important to me that I have places where I can just be me. And "me" is definitely queer."

Orphans

My review of Orphans, on now at the Firehall Arts Centre, appears in this week's WestEnder.

Orphans
By Andrea Warner


The Dead End Kids were originally a motley assortment of young toughies plucked from obscurity to play kids growing up on New York streets. They went on to find success in Hollywood, and represented the gritty hold-your-breath hopefulness of a generation devastated by the Depression and caught between World Wars.

Orphans plants its roots firmly in this lore: Treat and Philip are brothers who were orphaned as children, but continue to live together in a strangely cozy codependence. Treat has a hair-trigger temper and pays the rent through petty crime. Philip’s allergies keep him locked up inside, imagining a dream world where Errol Flynn is to blame for breaking any other number of Treat’s rules. Their relationship is complex: Treat, the eldest, fought to keep Philip from social services, and his over-protectiveness hasn’t waned. Rather, it’s a metaphorical hug that’s squeezing the life out of Philip’s body. When Treat brings home Harold, no one is prepared for the wedge it will drive between the brothers, forcing them both to grow up beyond their fragile existence.

It’s best not to dwell too much on Orphans’ story, and regard it instead as a springboard for three wonderful performances, nurtured by director Stephen Drover. Andrew McNee’s Treat is a whirlwind of bravado and anger, and it’s entirely to his credit that Treat never becomes a “bad guy” despite his actions. It’s fascinating to watch McNee convey the constant threat Treat feels every time Philip makes the slightest movement towards independence; even Philip teaching himself to read becomes a battle.

Michael Charrois plays Harold, the man who finally comes between the brothers. His quick-as-lightening turn from victim to victor is delightful, particularly as he attempts to bring Treat’s lawlessness into focus. He’s part tender father, part dangerous outsider and lends a certain funny creepiness to his perpetual offering of “encouragement.” Harold’s motivations seem to rest entirely on his fondness for “dead end kids,” as he calls Treat and Philip, but Charrois isn’t provided with enough material to make Harold anything more than a convenient catalyst to the story.

Last but not least, Michael Rinaldi steals the show (much the way he did in The Dissemblers) with his charming embodiment of Philip’s naïve curiousity. Rinaldi’s a gifted physical comedian who infuses Philip with a believable desire to challenge himself and the status quo (re: Treat.) Philip’s gentle attachment to a high-heeled shoe and his wild imagination are perfect fodder for Rinaldi’s brand of graceful boyishness, and Philip’s transformation into a man is heartening to watch.

The production values are simple and effective. A coffee table becomes it’s own stage as a platform for all three actors to alternately sit, lay, stand, or jump on. A television set’s soft grey glare provides the only light on Treat’s sad face as he realizes Philip is finally stretching his wings.

Ultimately, Orphans shortcomings lie in the hands of playwright Lyle Kessler. The story arc feels rushed, the second half lulls in two of its four scenes, and a throw-away line hints at a major plot point but instead becomes a nagging question that goes unanswered. The script’s biggest crime, though, is the tidy bow it wraps around Treat’s metamorphoses: it comes way too quickly, and shortchanges everyone involved.

Yet, the acting makes this a show worth seeing; it’s owed entirely to the talented cast that Orphans finds a home inside its audience at all.

The Dating Doctor Interview

My interview with the "Dating Doctor", Daniel Packard, appears in this week's WestEnder. The layout is great, so pick up a copy if you can.

By Andrea Warner

Lots of people rely on social lubricant (i.e. getting drunk) to take them from “You come here often?” to “Can I fix you some breakfast?”

Unfortunately, the path from A rarely leads to B, so think of the Dating Doctor, Daniel Packard, as your personal guide through the twisted and thorny trappings of Flirting 101.

Packard got his start as a comedian before launching his wildly successful and controversial show, Live Group Sex Therapy. Recognizing that everyone needs help hooking up, he’s now made a career out of it. His work has taken him to locales as far-flung as Dubai and Greece, and his monthly FlirtFest nights with the Rendezvous Club in Vancouver are proving to be sold-out celebrations of female empowerment and male wish fulfillment, of which he guarantees the clientele is “very attractive.”

The WestEnder talked with Packard about what women want, the biggest misconceptions about men, and how our high school days are never far behind us.

What made you decide to go into this line of work?
High school was my Vietnam. That was my defining emotional experience, and it didn’t go well. I was always a guy I thought was a “catch.” I had a lot to offer, and I’d listen to girls and I heard the things they wanted and I was that, and I found how hard it was for me to connect with women. Part of the teenage adolescent in me, you know, up until about five minutes ago, was lonely and frustrated. I know how hard it can be for people to connect. I guess it came from a certain amount of loneliness and sadness, like any great art, and I’ve just tried to take that negative and turn it into a positive for everybody.

How would you describe FlirtFest?
Essentially, it’s every woman in control and every guy in heaven.

I’ve heard the word “empowered” bandied about…
I want to empower women. I find that in this culture women are enabled to blame men a lot, and no one will really interrupt you. You know, when girls are sitting around talking, and they say “Oh my god, this thing happened”, and the friend doesn’t turn around and say, “Well, let’s take a good long look at your role in the dynamics so you can avoid this pattern in the future.” Men are such easy targets, you know. But anytime somebody blames or gets frustrated, they are not taking responsibility for their actions and then they can’t improve the situation.

You talk a bit about high school. I guess it would be hard to leave certain behaviours behind.
Well, yeah, it’s really hard. And most people will blame until an external force forces you to grow up. And, because men are generally the pursuers, women don’t have to grow up in this area of pursuit. Men will do the work; we’re the hunters. Most women spend a lot of energy in terms of looking cuter, but they don’t spend a lot of energy in terms of becoming emotionally stronger when it comes to going after men.

Would you say you get to be in the very unique position of telling women how to grow up?
I don’t like to say, “Grow up.” I have a lot of compassion and understanding for it—I’m growing up myself. When you’re a guy talking to hundreds of women simultaneously and you say “grow up,” the female mafia will quickly lock arms and take you down. When I first started this, I thought the women would go, “Oh, wow, thanks for the information,” but they just hated me. This was before I knew what I was doing.

What’s the biggest misconception women have about men?
The first is that men like the chase, and the second is that if you sleep with a man too quickly he’ll think you’re a slut. And while there’s a sliver of truth in there, these are basically perpetuated by the female culture. If you believe men like the chase, then guess what? You can avoid walking up to a guy, pursuing him, and getting rejected. You never have to put your ego on the line. And, women have a lot of judgment around sexuality, and they think men have it too, but we don’t.

Have you ever had the women try to pursue you towards the end of the event?
Oh yeah! I’m the alpha male, baby!

For more information about FlirtFest go to www.danielpackard.com

Ben Stein interview

My interview with Ben Stein appears in this week's WestEnder. Pick up a copy if you get the chance!

Ben Stein interview
By Andrea Warner
763 words


He has given the world an opportunity to win his money, droned memorably about red eyes, and asked that timeless question: “Bueller…Bueller?” He was valedictorian of his Yale law class, a speechwriter for Nixon, and currently writes a finance column for the New York Times Business Section and Yahoo! Finance.

The question now: Who is Ben Stein? A Darwin-hating, right-wing sensationalist or just a guy willing to throw his reputation on the line fighting for freedom of speech?

Stein’s new movie, Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed, doesn’t provide any easy answers. The actor/economist/lawyer co-wrote and stars in Expelled, and begins by making the case that the scientific academia is silencing, censoring, and punishing the “rebel” scientists who dare to question Darwin’s theories in favour of Intelligent Design, which presumes an intentional design or architecture to human existence.

To say Expelled has been polarizing would be an understatement. Internet sites have sprung up to debunk the film’s assertions, and Richard Dawkins, avowed atheist and writer of The God Delusion, claims he was duped into participating along with several other scientists, who believed they were being interviewed for a much more secular documentary called Crossroads about the “intersection of science and religion.”

But for all the fervor, plenty of people feel Expelled finally provides a voice for their views. And the outrage from scientists and atheists just fuels Stein’s fire, making him a man in high demand with little time to spare. The WestEnder got a chance to talk (2 minutes 26 seconds to be precise) with Stein about his new role as the poster boy for Intelligent Design, his hopes for the film, and how ego is his driving force.

This movie has sparked a lot of controversy. Why do you think that is, and was it intentional on your part?
It wasn’t intentional on my part at all. I had no idea, and I’m not sure why it sparked so much controversy. I think it’s because people are afraid of God and they think that we’re trying to force God down their throats and that’s the farthest thing from the truth. If people don’t want to believe in God, that’s their business, but I think there’s some confusion in people’s minds about what our intention is here and it’s frightening them.

What was your intention with the film?
To teach, to tell people about a threat to free speech, and the Darwinian establishment refusing to allow even the most obvious questioning of Darwinism’s relevance.

When did you first become interested in Intelligent Design and making this film?
We where inspired to make this film in 2005 because we know that great advances in science and technology can only happen when there is a free and open environment in research and development. In today's Universities and research departments there is the clamp down on excepted orthodoxies and if there is a mechanism discovered that is in direct contradiction to the Darwinian orthodoxy, that discovery is hushed up.

What, if any, are your concerns regarding the public's reaction to this film? Are you worried about your reputation?
No I am not at all concerned.... I have always been a rebel of sorts.

Scientific American devoted a whole article called "Six things Ben Stein doesn't want you to know about Expelled". Have you read it? If so, what are your thoughts on it?
I have not read the Scientific American article or many of the other articles that have come out strongly against our film. We where fully expecting these articles to come out because we are exposing these very people and their tactics to suppress.

A lot of people have been attacking you, saying you “hate science.” How do you respond?
I know. I don’t understand where that comes from. I have no idea. What I said was science can be used for good or bad. [Note: Stein was recently quoted from an interview with Paul Crouch Jr. as saying “Science leads to killing people.”] There can be science that helps people and cures people and makes their lives easier, and there can be science which gasses people and different kinds of science. I don’t see how anyone can question that. People will say anything, any kind of nonsense that comes to their head. I’m afraid that’s sort of what’s happened now.

Intelligent Design, game shows, law, Ferris Bueller—what’s the connection between all these facets of your personality?
Hmmm…I think all get me in the limelight. (Laughs) I think the connection is they all focus attention on me.

So it’s the Ben Stein show?
Exactly.

Product reviews

A collection of product reviews for Shared Vision.

West Coast-ers
Wishing bad karma on guests who plunk their drinks on your brand-new coffee table won’t make those white rings go away. But thanks to Vancouver designer Amanda Weedmark, we can now keep our furniture—and relationships—pristine with her Creating Good Karma tile coasters. With two designs in five subtle colours, the coasters are practical for every coffee table (yes, even that classic Danish modern number you scored last weekend). The company hopes to spark positive change by donating a portion from every sale to charity—so here’s a chance to give your buying habit a higher purpose. creatinggoodkarma.com —Andrea Warner

So Pretty, So Practical
Plastic bags are so passé, especially when you can pack your goods into an AuMarché sturdy and sustainable shoulder-slung sensation. Each roomy tote boasts original artwork by owner Keiko Lee-Hem, whose vivid designs include fennel hearts, sassy summer bouquets, and multi-coloured asparagus. The bags are 55 per cent hemp (the rest is cotton) and fortified with reinforced handles, so you can feel confident schlepping home that 20-lb winter melon you scored in Chinatown, or several of your favourite bottles of vino on your weekly, er, monthly trip to the liquor mart. Bag yours at the Vancouver Art Gallery Shop (750 Hornby St.), or aumarchebags.com. —AW

Seat Yourself
When a tree falls in the forest, the keen ears over at Clayoquot Crafts hear. The Tofino company uses only salvaged red cedar for its award-winning patio furniture that’s sprucing up decks and gardens all over the world. An eco-friendly collaboration between Daniel Lamarche, owner and creator, and the Tla-o-qui-aht First Nation people, Clayoquot has earned rave reviews for its benches, Cape Cod chairs, and outdoor dining sets. Requiring little upkeep, and built to withstand the temperamental B.C. weather, these pieces are ideal for watching the waves crash onto the beach, or stargazing in your own backyard. Order online at clayoquotcrafts.com.
—Andrea Warner

King Lear review

My review of Bard on the Beach's King Lear appears in this week's WestEnder. Pick up a copy to see the lovely full page layout!

King Lear review
By Andrea Warner
502 words

This ain’t your high school English class’s King Lear. This is your liberal arts college re-imagining King Lear as part comedy, part musical, and part morality tale to show everyone how daringly innovative they are. Get it?

King Lear isn’t the most complex of Shakespeare’s works, but the web of familial deception still packs plenty of modern punch. King Lear banishes the only daughter who truly loves him, Cordelia, because she fails to kiss his ass the way his other daughters, Goneril and Regan, do. Meanwhile, Edmund, the illegitimate son of the Earl of Gloucester, schemes to turn his brother and father against one and other. Everyone’s evil plans unravel in a series of bloody confrontations that come like puncture wounds throughout the last few minutes of the first half and the entire second half.

The story has stayed the same, but Bard on the Beach’s updates to the bloody tragedy take wild liberties that mess with the audience’s expectations, and the results are alternately frustrating and fantastic.

This Lear is a twisted relic, swimming in a wheelchair and a grandfatherly cardigan, his mind starting to corrupt memory and reality as he succumbs to advancing Alzheimer’s.

This Lear’s first half is infused with so much dark humour, sight gags, and laugh-out-loud moments, it feels more like a night at Yuk Yuks than an evening of Shakespeare.

This Lear has a song in his heart and back-up musicians to boot.

Plenty of director James Fagan Tait’s risks work, largely because the cast is an accomplished crew of established and new faces. Robert Moloney (The Glass Menagerie) infuses Edmund with lots of devilish charm, and is a wry and wonderful presence even at his most fiendish. Patti Allen has plenty of bite and sass as Nurse, the only one who seems to be able to tell King Lear the truth. And, Christopher Gaze is given wide range to zigzag powerfully between Lear’s lucid triumphant moments and his descent inside his own crumbling mind.

The cast is also tasked with singing, playing instruments, and providing sound effects like the devastating storm that forces Lear to seek refuge in a hovel. The singing is best reserved for comedic effect, and works fairly well throughout the first act. The second act packs more emotionally turbulent material, and the songs feel heavy-handed. They prove an unfortunate distraction from the actual acting and dialogue.

This is King Lear’s real triumph, and it’s hundreds of years old: language. The insults Lear spits at his daughters are vicious, visceral, and funny. His revelations feel as fresh today as they did then, particularly when he realizes the lip service he was paid throughout his life, admitting ruefully, “They told me I was everything. ‘Tis a lie.” The lessons Lear learns come late in life and are perched atop an incredibly high body count.

Though it earns high marks for innovation, this production doesn’t quite make the grade in effectiveness. Ultimately, this Lear is less a King and more a Prince.

Finn's Girl

My review of Finn's Girl appears in the current Westender.

Finn’s Girl
2 stars
By Andrea Warner
269 words

Finn’s Girl, the clunky Canadian drama, peels away its layers with all the subtlety of a flasher in a trench coat. Though there are many good elements (strong female characters, great actors, a 21^st century take on sexuality and family), there are also lots of unnecessary plot twists, melodrama, and miles of back-story that all but drown Finn’s Girl in a bloated sea of good intentions.

Finn is silver-haired, no-nonsense doctor who rides a motorcycle, walks with a sexy swagger, and is on the rebound after her wife, Nancy’s, death. She’s also raising their daughter, Zelly, a precocious pre-pubescent with a penchant for shoplifting, smoking dope, and telling the babysitter to “fuck off.”

Finn’s sinking under her parental obligations, and desperately trying to keep Nancy’s abortion clinic afloat amidst violent threats and sniper attacks. Two cops keep her under 24-hour surveillance, and become enmeshed in Finn and Zelly’s lives as the threats escalate.

Brooke Johnson infuses Finn with a realistic combination of tough-talking helplessness, and Maya Ritter is fantastic as Zelly, a brilliant but lonely kid who is just trying to figure out who she is. Yanna McIntosh is a lovely and stoic addition to this duo as Diana, the cop who becomes so central to their lives. If this had been the extent of the story, Finn’s Girl would be a better film. But, there’s an entire subplot regarding Zelly’s conception, Finn’s previous work as part of a fertility drug-trial, and Zelly’s father, all of which feels like a year’s worth of television programming on the CBC condensed into 88 minutes, making Finn’s Girl impossible to fully embrace.

Memphis

My story on Memphis (The Band), appears in this week's Charleston City Paper.

Memphis wishes, rock star dreams

Eight years in, everyone thinks Memphis (the band) is still a little bit country, a little bit rock ‘n roll

By Andrea Warner

Twelve years ago, Jeremy Thompson and his cousin, Scott Morgan, were sowing some oats and wearing out their tire treads on a road trip to California. The two fell hard for Memphis, and when they started looking for a name to christen their new band, Elvis’s homeland seemed a natural fit for their rockabilly sound. Thompson admits that since their “Eureka!” moment, the band has often been dismissed as a country outfit based simply on Memphis’s physical proximity to Nashville. In reality, Memphis the band is more button-down shirts with ripped jeans discretely hiding their cowboy boots, than full ranch hand chic.

“I keep trying to tell everyone that Nashville’s six hours east of Memphis, but it hasn’t quite worked out as I thought,” Thompson laughs.

Memphis is the perfect band for fans of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, or anyone who appreciates songs that tell stories with a bit of blues, funk, and twang. Morgan is Memphis’ voice, and his rough growl is the stuff of back roads and beer, rollicking and rich where called for, and Walker’s drums provide a great backbone to the majority of Memphis’s songs. The cousins are joined by Shannon Morgan (percussion), Ryan Davis (bass), and Peter Lucey (keys and accordion), and help flesh out Memphis’s unique cross blend of sounds and influences. One of their most popular songs, “Fallen Down,” is a beautiful, bluesy ballad that harkens back to the scratchy-throat slumber of an old Tom Waits song.

Though most members of Memphis still hold down day jobs (Morgan is a published author!), they try to go on one small tour every year. Thompson admits the band is still awaiting their big break, but he’s ready for it.

“I have not experienced anything in my life that compares to being on stage with four other people,” Thompson says. “Myself and the bass player, we just want to tour and be out doing what we do best, and that’s play music.”

Thompson would like to see Memphis’s trajectory be something akin to that of Phish or Widespread Panic or Government Mule; independent but with a big enough following to move Memphis to the next level.

“We’re not Daughtry being played once every two and half hours in six radio stations just in my town,” Thompson says. “We’re not corporate. We’re not mainstream. Bands like The Mississippi All Stars have said, ‘We have the means to do it ourselves are out there, we’re going to show you we can do it, keep our fans, and keep it alive’ I really like that.”

But Thompson can’t help but hold one rock star dream close. It’s deceptively simple, hedonistic, and just a little juvenile.

“I’ve always wanted to throw a television out the window of a hotel room,” he laughs again. “But, the other members of the band keep me straight. On the next tour we’re going to take the TV with us, so we can throw it out the window and not be charged with any damages.” A gentlemanly approach, but keep your eyes to the skies if Memphis comes to your town.

Warrior Boyz

My review of Warrior Boyz appears in this week's Westender.

Warrior Boyz
Andrea Warner
3 stars
267 words

The front pages of local papers have become little more than a running tally for the body count succumbing to gang violence. Baljit Sangra’s new documentary, Warrior Boyz, packs a punch that hits uncomfortably close to home, tackling Indo-Canadian gangs in Surrey, and the teenage wannabes risking their lives to belong.

Jagdeep is the unofficial elder statesmen, sharing his story with at-risk teens. He’s a tough-talking ex-gang member, lean and fierce, and the residual anger of his youth still infuses his words as he recalls the perpetual racism he faced as a young immigrant in the Lower Mainland, and the escalating violence that inevitably resulted in a jail sentence.

It’s a pattern the audience sees repeating in 15-year-old Tanvir’s life. The downward spiral is almost dizzying, as he’s kicked out of his home and out of school, and begins to carry a baseball bat for protection. The interviews Sangra conducts with Tanvir are frustrating and frightening: they reveal a good kid making terrible decisions, and it’s devastating to imagine what his future holds.

Warrior Boyz barely cracks the 40-minute mark, but it feels like the start of a crucial conversation that desperately needs to continue. It’s heartening to see educators like Sukh Rai, the vice principal tasked with keeping these kids on track, make such an impact on boys like Vicky, the18-year-old trying to leave his past behind and graduate. Vicky refuses to reveal the extent of his gang involvement, for fear of retaliation, but it’s also the film’s weak spot, compromising the totality of Boyz’s impact as the audience never finds out what’s scared him straight.

Silent Light

My review of Silent Light appears in this week's Westender.

Silent Light
By Andrea Warner
4 stars
271 words

A Mexican movie with a skeletal plot and sumptuous visuals, filmed almost entirely in the Plautdietsch dialect of the German language, and cast with virtual unknowns? It’s a dicey experiment and it pays off beautifully for writer/director Carlos Reygadas.

Silent Light traverses a familiar topic with an intriguing twist: adultery, Mennonite style. Johan (Cornelio Wall) is deeply religious, but can’t fight his attraction to Marianne (Maria Pankratz), his lover of two years. Esther (Canadian novelist Miriam Toews) is Johan’s long-suffering wife, a stoic figure in a black dress who’s borne him a brood of blond babies.

The film slowly builds to a tragic climax (will Johan choose lust or family?), and then keeps going for another 15 minutes before its out-of-left-field ending. But, while the plot is interesting in its own way, it’s secondary to the cinematography and direction.

Silent Light is film making at its most prosaic and arty, and it’s incredibly gratifying to watch a camera linger over a scene in today’s style of quick-cuts. The opening shot envelops the audience in all consuming, disorienting darkness, the silence periodically shattered by high-pitched animal cries. It takes about five minutes before the orange glow of sunrise reveals the countryside.

The elements, both natural and manmade are used to wonderful effect: the tick-tock of the clock that looms, unseen, filling up the uncomfortable silence between Johan and Esther over breakfast; the torrential downpour of rain that soaks Esther to the bone as she finally breaks down.

Silent Light is almost confounding in its simplicity and sensory immersion. And though the dialogue is sparse, it will have film buffs talking up a storm.

The Producers

My review of The Producers appears in this week's Westender.

The Producers
By Andrea Warner
279 words

Mel Brooks has always tackled the taboo. His keenly astute appreciation for satire marched over the boundaries of good taste in 1968, when his film, The Producers, envisioned a hoofing Hitler with a song in his heart. In 2001, The Producers came to Broadway, tauter, tighter, and with lots more T&A. Now the Tony-award smash hit high kicks it’s way to Vancouver, and it feels just as frenzied, funny, and freshly shocking as ever.

The Producers is deliciously daring in its unbridled enthusiasm for dirty jokes, sweeping caricatures, and playful winking at show business. Charming shyster and failing Broadway producer, Max Biaylstock (Jay Brazeau) and the meekly nebbish accountant Leo Bloom (Josh Epstein) discover that in the right circumstances, a producer can make more money on a flop than with a success. They hit the poor-taste jackpot with ex-Nazi, Franz, whose Spring Time for Hitler aims to show the softer side of the war criminal.

The cast is fantastic. Jay Brazeau and Josh Epstein as Biaylstock and Bloom offer plenty of chemistry as they fully embody their campy and nefarious alter egos. Jackson Davies is furiously funny as the pigeon-loving, knock-kneed, Hitler enthusiast Franz. Terra C. MacLeod is a revelation as Ulla, the Swedish bombshell who woos Bloom.

The choreography and costumes transcend the confines of the Stanley stage, and create big scale productions that are innovative and hilarious. Particularly, the slew of little old ladies armed with walkers in “Along Came Bialy” and the fetish-wearing spectacular “Springtime for Hitler” are brilliant. Every stereotype meets its match in glorious song and dance extravaganzas: Gays, Nazis, show biz types—no one’s feelings are spared on this stage. Thank God.

Don't Mess with the Zohan

My review of Adam Sandler's new movie, Don't Mess with the Zohan, appears in this week's Westender.

Don’t Mess With the Zohan
2 stars
By Andrea Warner
270 words

Raunchy, rude, and kind of racist, Don’t Mess with the Zohan oozes stereotypes and clichés, but without the cleverness of Harold and Kumar the jokes amount to simple sight gags and an escalating array of crotch and hummus jokes, with much “America is good” rhetoric.

Think of this as Adam Sandler’s version of peace talks with the Middle East. Zohan is an Israeli counter terrorist with gravity-defying moves, an untamed libido, and a secret dream to go to America and be a hair stylist. He fakes his death during a fight with his Palestinian enemy, Phantom (John Turturro), and re-emerges in New York City where he gets a job in a salon.

Dahlia, Palestinian and the requisite “beautiful girl,” owns the salon, which happens to sit in a Middle Eastern neighbourhood, where Palestinian shops face Israeli shops. The whole community is at risk from Walbridge, an old rich white guy in a sharp suit, who wants to build a mall.

The political stuff could almost be interesting, and would make for good satire in other hands. But, the movie’s also hampered by stupid subplots: Zohan “makes sticky” with every woman who breathes before falling for Dahlia; Rob Schneider (himself tolerable, his storyline less so) is Zohan’s former foe out for revenge; and then there’s an apparent Middle Eastern obsession with hackey sack and disco.

The cameos come fast and furious, and are the only consistent bright spots throughout. With a script co-written by reigning comedy King Judd Apatow, Zohan should be far funnier. But, when Mariah Carey is the best thing to happen to a film, the jig is up.