|
|
|
Archive: October, 2011
All week, Philadelphia Improv Theater’s first-annual QComedy Festival has featured a slew of local comedic acts, but on Saturday it wraps up with a funny little visitor from L.A. Gay comedian Alec Mapa, who’s acted in LGBTQ-adoring sitcoms like Desperate Housewives and Ugly Betty, sat down to chat with me about his rough-and-tumble beginnings, how being a dad has changed his comedy and what his co-star Vanessa Williams is really like behind the scenes …
City Paper: How did you get your start as an entertainer?
Alec Mapa: I grew up in San Francisco and was kind of a bad kid. I was a big stoner in high school: drama and cutting class were the only things I paid attention to. But I had a teacher who [encouraged me to pursue theater]. After graduation, I applied to NYU and got in. The first job I got was in M. Butterfly. Then I didn’t work for three years, because no one knew what to do with me. So I started doing standup and that got me sitcom work.
CP: Do you always play gay characters?
AM: Not always. I played a director in a Disney Channel movie that aired this summer. I wasn’t really anything, but my energy was definitely gay.
CP: What are some of the topics you like to cover in your standup act?
AM: My husband and I went from being two gay guys with no responsibility to being full-time parents to a five-year-old. So that’s a lot of material. There’s no kind of parenting manual that will prepare you for how much these things poop and pee. We used to have this beautiful gay guy’s bathroom — it was like a spa at the Four Seasons. But now it’s like a Porta-Potty at Mardi Gras. But I also talk about gay stuff — dick jokes and fart jokes. There’s a lot of gay people who don’t like kids, but they can come to my show and laugh, too. I’m here to make you laugh not make you pregnant.
Inspiration can strike an artist anywhere. Whether it be a fleeting glance at street graffiti while a passenger on a train, a setting sun while standing alone in a desolate alley or maybe even the death of a trusted companion. The latter example was the case for Laurie Anderson. Her dog, Lolabelle, passed away in April and in response Anderson went to work. The resulting collection, entitled “Forty-Nine Days in the Bardo,” is currently on display at Philadelphia's Fabric Workshop and Museum. Tonight, Anderson will present an accompaniment piece to the exhibit, Animal Stories. "In working on this exhibition I realized that whales, dogs, snakes, horses, ants and many other creatures have played a big part in my work,” explains Anderson in a her artist’s statement. “Animal Stories ... will be a collection of stories about animals throughout my work life.”
“Forty-Nine Days” is a sprawling set of ten charcoal works, each piece measuring 10 feet 4 inches by 14 feet 4 inches. It was inspired by The Tibetan Book of the Dead, which describes a bardo as a forty-nine day journey from death to rebirth. Done entirely in charcoal and presented as a diary narrative, the works are striking and modern. And they’ll be on display until Nov. 19.
Having performed all over the world, Anderson isn’t giving specific details about tonight’s show, but we’re guessing it will involve the violin and electronics — trademarks of her previous performances.
Tonight, reception at 6 p.m., performance/lecture at 7 p.m., The Fabric Workshop and Museum, 1214 Arch St., 215-561-8888, fabricworkshopandmuseum.org.
Check this space all week for reviews and coverage of the 2011 FirstGlance Film Festival.
Somewhere among the forced dialog and weak supporting roles, there lies The Calendar Girl Killer, a 
man who has assaulted eleven girls in the past year (one of whom is a Drexel student) and is now turning his attention to Miss December. The serial killer is on the loose in Philadelphia, but even local viewers won’t bat an eye with the abrupt music that basically shouts, “watch, viewers, this is the scary part!” Instead of creeping forward at an accelerating rate as most thrillers do, Philly director Derek Lindeman’s Calendar Girl lazily saunters forward before giving a slight push at the end. An unnecessary amount of slow scenes with shallow character development was probably meant to give struggling actors more screen time, but the end result is the slowing down of the plot’s flow.
Ari, well played by Jensen Bucher, is a cynical goth-punk waitress at a diner. But even though we’re meant to feel sympathy for her, the character’s repetitive self-destructive behavior transforms her into the antagonist. She consciously surrounds herself with sociopaths who snap stalker photos of her or physically abuse her. So when she reads the Zodiac-esque newspaper article describing the killer’s next victim, Ari’s flattered that she now has a “secret admirer.”
While the new year approaches, Ari juggles three men in her life. Her best friend Chris (Lindeman) acts as her guardian, warning her against the menacing men in her life. But Lindeman’s smiles resemble winces, and the character is so awkward that he becomes unlikeable. Her ex-boyfriend Jon is a thug who wins her approval once he threatens a homeless man with a knife. And her new beau, Phil, is a dorky and slightly neurotic guy who claims to be a freelance photographer.
Mary Armstong reports and takes review requests from the Americana Music Conference in Nashville.
Americana brings the customary fraternal reunion, old friends zooming in from all sides, non-stop good music and a deep desire to be in five places at once, literally, counting all the showcase venues strewn about downtown Nashville.
Mary Faith Rhodes (Breezy Ridge Instruments) and I opted for serious country, at the Rutledge. We saw 
Marty Stuart open for his bride, Connie Smith (pictured). Yes, open, just a white guy with a guitar. Singing or story spinning, his soul is right there to energize the crowd. Stuart stayed onstage to play rhythm with Smith. She was in great form, her pipes are supple again, her band plays just like her glory days.
Following them Mountain Heart knocked us out with Bluegrass and funk and soul (yes, in the same set). David Mayfield Parade closed. The set started with seriously cool drumming, suggesting a sexy show to come. Enter the side players, one at a time, looking as hot as they played. Finally at the side of the stage, a fat guy is doing lunges, looking around to make sure he's got everybody's attention. He then vaults up and tumbles across the breadth of the stage, recovers and starts to shaking his ass. We got yer exotic dancer, right here! Fat solidarity! I'm in. Never did quite figure out if he was trolling for boys or girls or both. Not that it mattered, just keeping score. However, weak humor between songs left the audience telling better jokes back at him. Trying to pretend to be sorry when you really are is a complicated hall of mirrors to navigate. It was too loud to distinguish his lryics, but not so loud you couldn't make out that his voice is not one you'd listen to for pleasure. Yeah, last night was my chance to turn in early, wishing wistfully I'd left the Rutledge early enough to catch Peter Rowan, of the divine pipes, at the Station Inn.
Is there someone on this list you're aching to hear about? If so, leave a message on Mary's Facebook wall. Quick!
Our resident DJ on his most boogie-worthy pick of the week.
WHO: Lexx, Argo, Brownske, Maggy Thump
WHAT: The StopNotPlayin’ boys are back with another classic hip-hop tribute party. In addition to dropping all the Beastie-Boys favorites and rarities they can muster, the DJs will also feature songs Mike D and the crew sampled, such as "Afrika Bambaataa," "Black Flag" and more. Personally, I’m looking forward to a “Shadrach” sing-along with the other drunk, slurring partygoers.
WHEN & WHERE: Fri., Oct. 14, 9 p.m.-2 a.m., $5, Connie's Ric Rac, 1139 S. Ninth St., 215-279-7587, stopnotplayin.com.
WHY: When was the last time you raged out to the Beastie Boys in the heart of the Italian Market?
Check this space all week for reviews and coverage of the 2011 FirstGlance Film Festival.
With a running time just under twenty minutes, Theresa Wu's locally shot Smoke and Mirrors is forced to 
get straight to the point. Within the first ninety seconds, the protagonist, Sarah, (Krystal Yam) has been caught smoking in the bathroom and finds herself knee-deep in a shit storm created by her mother (Vanessa Kai). Throughout the film, the mother/daughter relationship is taunting at best, with Sarah's mom constantly berating her about school, social interactions and the work she does for the family take-out biz. At one point, Sarah's father even steps in and asks the question on everyone's mind, "Why are you always yelling at her?"
The turning point comes when Sarah finds her mother getting friendly with a customer outside the restaurant — something that is normally against the rules. So as far as she's concerned, if her mother doesn't follow the rules then why should she? Sarah becomes incensed, grabs a pack of cigs and climbs into the back of a van with a boy. She immediately rebuffs his advances, but for a brief moment she sees the possibilities that await her. This is the moment the movie goes from just teen drama to something more.
Being a teenager is tough, and breaking the rules generally feels pretty good at least for a moment. The film moves at a quick clip, never leaving time to dwell on any one aspect. Some viewers may spend the entire film wondering what it is that drives this 14-year-old to smoke, but in doing so they'll miss the real point. Don't do that.
CITY PAPER GRADE: B
Sun., Oct. 16, 5 p.m., screens with Sunday Twilight, Take Your Medicine, The Story, Franklin Institute, 222 N. 20th St. firstglancefilms.com/philadelphia.
Check this space all week for reviews and coverage of the 2011 FirstGlance Film Festival.
Local filmmaker Andrew Ari Clibanoff's Air We Breathe shows a lot of heart but offers disappointing 
results. If you can get past audio imperfections like the popping P's and S's, and distracting changes in ambient noise in between camera switches, you're left facing an almost shockingly unoriginal script. The film is a twenty-four-and-a-half-minute indie cliché about a washed up alcoholic writer and a visitor with an unknown agenda. It's like a Hal Hartley joint without the post-modernism, which translates to almost unwatchable.
The acting is actually pretty decent, despite the inexplicable casting. Each of the four actors look to be in their mid-20s, which makes it hard to believe the protagonist is a has-been great writer.
This could-be tale of cathartic transcendence needs more narrative. The weight attempted to be hoisted onto these characters in a 24-minute period doesn't have nearly enough fuel to ignite a substantial dramatic experience. Nor does the dialogue offer it's modestly talented (if distractingly young) actors a chance to make any memorable impressions with their material. I hope they keep at it because Air We Breathe shows a lot of ambition. But the end product might as well be a long film trailer designed to reel you in by not showing you any of the interesting parts.
CITY PAPER GRADE: D
Sat., Oct. 15, 8 p.m., $10, screens with Ring Theory, Luz, and Falling Overnight, Franklin Institute, 222 N. 20th St., firstglancefilms.com/philadelphia.
It seems that with each passing year the popularity of Fado, a specifically Portuguese musical tradition, grows by leaps and bounds. While Fado may be just arriving on the radar for some, it’s centuries old. And it’s about as essential to Portuguese identity as an appreciation for navigational history or adulation for the word saudade.
What is saudade? Fadistas sing it, literally. Most lusophones will you tell that it can’t be translated. Saudade is like longing and nostalgia wrapped together in one, but more. Saying that you’re with “saudade” of someone, if the most common way to say you miss them, but it’s more than that too. Saudade links an urgency to reconnect with a cryptic sense that it may not happen. Legend has it the word came from sailors and their loved ones, separated by the sea on long (often lost) voyages, but no one has the definite etymology. You can hear the word countless times in music from around the Portuguese-speaking world, but in Fado, backed by classical and Portuguese guitars, vocalists attempt to embody it.
Fado is traditionally sung in casas de fado, taverns covered with photos from floor to ceiling, packed tight with tables and voices. If there’s no roster for the night, fadistas rise to sing as the music moves them to — think Quaker meeting, only with notes of heartbreak.
Amalia Rodrigues first brought Fado to the international stage and still considered by her countrymen as the queen. But nearly half a century after Rodrigues’ 1960s heyday, Fado is experiencing a resurgence. The younger generation is adding rock and pop to the mix. Musicians like Mariza, Camané and Dulce Pontes are going multi-platinum and appearing in movies. And then there’s Ana Moura. She’s like the devil’s food of the Fado scene. She’s got a soul-tinged darkness and richness happening. Prince and Mick Jagger are famously under her spell. We caught up with the chanteuse to talk about her background and where she thinks Fado is headed. Here’s what she had to say.
City Paper: You come from a musical family and began singing with relatives at home. Was anyone in your family a professional musician or were you the first?
Check this space all week for coverage and reviews of the 2011 FirstGlance Film Festival.
Residents on the western side of North Broad Street have been faced with the deterioration of their hood, 
with buildings becoming vacant, trash accumulating and graffiti on the rise. And Wild West of Broad points the finger at Temple University for failing to give back to its surrounding community. Most of the 22-minute doc — produced by Temple film student Ian Rose — is made up of interviews with the locals. The majority of the subjects agree that the local businesses sprouting up in the area have created jobs and local commerce, but they all believe there's still work to be done. They point the finger at Temple students, but can the tagging and apartment buildings being vacated really be caused by them? Regardless, as students continue to live farther from campus and deeper into their neighborhood, the community simply asks that Temple start returning the favor somehow.
Sun., Oct. 16, 3:15 p.m., $8, screens with Bip Bip, Ruby Skye P.I.: The Spam Scam, Connect To, Burma: An Indictment, Franklin Institute, 222 N. 20th St., firstglancefilms.com/philadelphia.
CITY PAPER GRADE: B-
Check this space all week for reviews of the Philly flicks making up the 15th annual FirstGlance Film Festival.
We’ll start this review off with a little analogy just to create some perspective: JC Dobb’s was to Philly what 
CBGB’s was to New York City — the end-all-be-all of Philly’s local music scene for over two decades and, at its peak, was the city’s premier rock 'n’ roll stomping ground.
Philly director George Manney’s (pictured right) documentary, Meet Me On South Street: The Story of JC Dobbs, describes the history of the sacred neighborhood bar that was a stepping stone for big namers like George Thorogood, Nirvana and Oasis. Starting in the early-70s when JC Dobbs’ was “the coolest neighborhood bar," Manney tells the watering hole's story through a number of still images, video montages and interviews from those who witnessed Dobbs’ rise from local hangout to Philly music scene mecca.
- Activism
- Arts
- Arts Events
- Books
- Dance
- First Person Fest
- Last Chance
- Museum
- On the Fringe
- Philly Artists
- The Curator
- Theater
- Visual Art
- Arts News
- Artist Profile
- Arts Preview
- Street Art
- Been There, Done That
- Big Ups
- Comedy
- LOL With It
- Stand-up
- Critical Mass
- DVD
- Events
- Friday Fill-in
- Ice Cubes
- In Memoriam
- Interview
- Just Do It
- Just Opened
- Kaleidoscopic
- LGBTQ
- Art Phag
- Mailbag
- Movies
- Film Fest
- Movie Review
- On set
- Scenester
- screening
- trailer!
- Music
- 10 Track Mind
- Album
- Album Review
- Concert Review
- DJs
- Local Support
- Now Hear This
- One Track Mind
- Philly Bands
- Show
- Somebody Else Was There
- Song
- The Showdown
- concert photos
- jazz
- DJ Nights Blogged
- Night Watch
- Now See This
- Poetic License
- Printed Matter
- Radio
- Shopping
- Coveted
- Fashion
- What We Heart
- TV
- 24
- Idol Hands
- Mad Men
- ProjRun
- True Blood
- Useless Lost Recaps
- Couch Potato
- Shore Trash
- Turned ONN
- TopMod
- Video Games
- Free Online Game
- PSP
- PlayStation 2
- The 1-Upper
- Wii
- Web Junk
- CAGE MATCH
- Free Online Toy
- Weekend Omnibus
- Win
