Categories
Theater Theater Feature

Come and Get It!

On this Thursday last, Theatre Memphis hosted a gala celebration marking the arrival of its 500th mainstage production, George Kaufman and Moss Hart’s classic comedy The Man Who Came To Dinner. Champagne flowed like tap water, and the mob of tipsy patrons feasted like royalty. There were divinely succulent lamb chops, aperitifs served in chocolate shot glasses, and a stunning array of fruity sorbets, each one more delicious than the last. And then there was the show. Ah, yes, the show. We’ll get around to discussing that too, I suppose, if time allows.

Anniversaries are important occasions, no doubt. They are a time for reflection and evaluation as we recall past glories and laugh off our more embarrassing mishaps. But for such events to have any true meaning, they can’t just be about the past. They must also become a portal to the future: a chance to crow, You ain’t seen nothing yet.

To be brutally honest, The Man Who Came To Dinner is a poor choice on TM’s part. It was the last show to be performed at the theater’s cramped quarters at the Pink Palace prior to moving into its current facility at Perkins Extended and Southern back in the early ’70s. And, yes, a number of key-role actors from that previous production have returned to offer up outstanding performances. That’s all well, good, and as it should be, but the downside nearly negates the up. K&H’s zany comedy — peopled by the sort of wonderful eccentrics the two writers knew how to create so well — has really begun to show its age. The play’s leading character, Sheridan Whiteside, a renowned theater critic and radio celebrity based on New York Times drama critic Alexander Woolcott (1887-1943), drops so many names one almost requires a scorecard to keep up.

Thankfully, TM includes just such a card in the program: four pages’ worth of brief biographies. Certainly, even the most (pop)culturally challenged will recognize names like H.G. Wells and Arturo Toscanini, but who among us remembers socialite Dorothy di Frasso, lecturer William Phelps, or diver William Beebe? It’s not so much that one has to know these names to enjoy the comedy, but it’s impossible to enjoy the richness of the humor without a working knowledge of every name the viciously clever Whiteside drops. No list of bios, no matter how thorough, can fill in the gap between simple knowledge and total understanding. Several seasons back, the late Ellis Rabb, Memphis’ most celebrated director, solved a similar problem with Richard Brinsley Sheridan’s 18th-century comedy The School For Scandal by updating all the show’s proper nouns. It worked like a dream, and Sheridan’s pithy game of inside baseball became completely accessible. Alas, we’re at least 100 years away from a time when a director will feel comfortable performing such a surgery on The Man Who Came To Dinner.

Director Bob Hetherington has done an excellent job of never allowing the show’s outsized characters to leave the realm of believability. Given that this script is a slow-boiling farce complete with a herd of rampaging penguins, that’s no easy task. In the case of Sheridan Whiteside, the globe-trotting critic whose tongue is a weapon and whose kindness is rivaled only by his pettiness, a certain largess is to be expected. Curiously enough, Bennett Wood, an actor more than capable of reaching out to grasp all of Whiteside’s extremes, is remarkably even-keeled. There is a distinct lack of pomp in his circumstances, and from the beginning, we like Whiteside much more than we should. We should enjoy him in much the same way we enjoy Oscar Wilde’s more fabulous creations: as someone we’d love to have for dinner on occasion but would prefer to keep away from the children. Wood’s greatest gift, however, has always been subtlety, and perhaps he still just needs some time to grow.

Christina Wellford Scott (as outsized actress Lorraine Sheldon) and John Rone (as Beverly Carlton, a character based on Noël Coward) both revel in a certain cartoonishness, and the audience revels with them, while the show’s ingenues Pamela Poletti (Maggie) and John “I’d become one of Memphis’ best actors if I’d just stop smirking” Moore (Bert) are appropriately grounded.

There is really nothing wrong with TM’s Man that time and a shot of Jägermeister won’t fix. Too bad it’s all about nostalgia and beating down paths that are already well worn. Everything is very safe and tidy, exuding charm while showing not the tiniest shred of courage.

Through June 30th.

Categories
Sports Sports Feature

City Sports

Winning Developments

Prospects are brighter for the Redbirds this year.

By Frank Murtaugh

It’s tricky being a minor-league baseball fan. Tricky, in that root, root, rooting for the home team isn’t as elementary as pulling for wins, like every big-league fan does. The minor leagues are, first and foremost, about development. Winning is considered a bonus. Former Redbirds president Allie Prescott pointed this out to me before the ‘Birds played their first game at Tim McCarver Stadium four years ago — and he did so with a smile on his face. With Triple-A baseball, winning really isn’t everything. Period.

The joyous 2000 season is one local baseball fans will never forget, nor should they. Memphis ran away from the Pacific Coast League’s Eastern Division, won 22 more games than they lost, then won the league championship in dramatic fashion on an extra-inning home run from St. Louis Cardinal star-to-be Albert Pujols. That team had a pair of key offensive ingredients in Eduardo Perez and Ernie Young, two players with major-league experience who provided power in the middle of the lineup. It had players like Stubby Clapp, Keith McDonald, Lou Lucca, and Mark Little … players not quite ready for the Show but more than capable on the Triple-A level. (In some circles, these are known as “Four-A” players.) Add to the mix pitchers like Clint Weibl, Luther Hackman, Mark Nussbeck, and Bud Smith and you have the confluence of rising talent and seasoned veterans that results in winning baseball — a lot of it.

The table was turned dramatically last season when, without Young and Perez, the Redbirds had very little power. (Luis Saturria led the club with 13 home runs.) Smith was called up to St. Louis at mid-season, and Weibl was limited to 12 innings of work due to shoulder trouble. Memphis fell from first to 10th in the PCL in ERA and finished next to last in the league in batting. End result: a last-place finish, 19 games under .500.

The worst aspect of last year’s struggles wasn’t so much the losing but the fact that, aside from Smith, there appeared to be nary a big-league prospect on the field. In the bushes, losing is accepted in the name of development. While the team may fail on the scoreboard, it wins — and its fans win — if rising stars are learning their trade in the process. (The ’98 and ’99 clubs were mediocre when measured in the standings, but it was some fun watching the likes of J.D. Drew, Placido Polanco, Eli Marrero, and Rick Ankiel.) I still have to be convinced the likes of Saturria, William Ortega, or Ryan Balfe — all Memphis mainstays last year — will have any impact on the major-league level. So not only were the 2001 Redbirds losing, their players weren’t going anywhere.

Which brings us to the 2002 model. Ivan Cruz and Mike Coolbaugh have assumed the Perez/Young power slots. A pair of Smiths — Travis and Bud — joined a healthy Weibl and Jason Jacome to give the club arguably the best starting rotation in the PCL. Even with Bud Smith’s recent call-up (to fill the injured Garrett Stephenson’s slot in the St. Louis rotation), the Redbirds have some inning-eaters who will help the club avoid long losing streaks. At the plate, Cruz and Coolbaugh have already equaled Saturria’s home run total from a year ago, and Mike Frank appears to have the prettiest Redbird swing since Chris Richard was traded two years ago. Injuries to McDonald and Clapp won’t help in the runs department, so the newly acquired Warren Morris and the backup backstops (Matt Garrick and Alex Andreopoulos) will need to pick up some big hits.

Will the new faces mean more wins and PCL playoff hopes for Memphis fans? A lot will depend on the fortunes of the parent club. If the Smiths wind up spelling injured Cardinals, the Redbirds’ fortunes will suffer. And injuries to Cruz or Coolbaugh would seriously damage the team’s run production. But a healthy Frank-Cruz-Coolbaugh trio in the middle of the lineup bodes well and could mean as many as 60 home runs this year.

Prospects? You’ve got to start with Weibl, the 2000 PCL ERA champ who seems to be on the cusp of getting the big call. Jason Simontacchi has already earned a spot on Tony LaRussa’s staff, and So Taguchi — back in Memphis after being called up to the Cards June 10th to fill in for the injured Jim Edmonds — is worth measuring (though it’s hard to consider a 32-year-old player a prospect). Combine this rising talent with the “Four-A” group in uniform for Memphis and you’ve got a club with more than a few parallels to the 2000 championship edition. Making it that much easier for local fans to root for wins — and development.


On a Role

Sometimes, the people behind the scenes make all the difference.

By Ron Martin

I was 8 when my basketball coach passed out everyone’s assignments. It was our first game after a month of twice-weekly practices. My excitement turned to disappointment when Coach said, “Ron, sit next to me and keep the scorebook.” I would’ve looked to my dad to intervene on my behalf because I knew that keeping the scorebook was not a good thing if I wanted to see some playing time. But Dad was of no help because he was the coach. So early on I was introduced to one of the most unheralded positions on any team: the role player.

A role player arrives every day for practice just like the stars. He dresses out for each game, takes warm-up, then sits on the bench. He does everything the stars do except play. He never gets interviewed and in most cases is not recognized as he walks down the street.

Meet former role player Brendon Gaughan (pronounced “gone”).

Gaughan crossed the country to become a role player for John Thompson’s Georgetown University team featuring Allen Iverson. “My job was to work Allen hard in practice,” said Gaughan. “I tried to beat him up and get him ready for the game and the NBA.”

This week, Gaughan, of Las Vegas, will be at the Memphis Motorsports Park with his NAPA Auto Parts Dodge team trying to win his second consecutive NASCAR Craftsman Truck Series race.

“I knew my role at Georgetown,” he said. “Coach Thompson made it real clear to me. I didn’t get to play a lot but playing in the games wasn’t my job. But I sure learned a lot.”

Learn he did. Gaughan graduated from Georgetown with a degree in human-resource management and an unwritten degree in life. “I’ll never forget what Coach Thompson taught me; I’d be a fool if I did,” he said. “I owe everything I am or will be to Coach and to my dad.”

Normally, when the first of the year rolls around, race teams have the core of their stable of cars prepared. But when sponsorship comes late, so does preparation. “We had nothing — zero — when January rolled around,” said Gaughan, adding that a team needs at least seven trucks to be competitive. “Today, we have seven trucks and a win.”

Why? Gaughan uses the John Thompson style of coaching, “Shane Wilson is the crew chief, but I’m the Allen Iverson of the team. I do all the interviews, get all the applause, but I’m nothing without the role players like Junebug.” Junebug is Robert Strmiska, the rear-tire changer.

“Junebug works as hard as anyone on the team,” explained Gaughan. “If he screws up, our trainer punishes him just like anybody else, just like I was at Georgetown. No applause, just hard work.”

Gaughan made a trip to the NCAA Tournament and appearances in the Sweet 16 and the Elite Eight because he fulfilled his role — getting Iverson ready. Now Junebug Strmiska has made his first trip to the winner’s circle because Brendon Gaughan traveled across the country and met a guy by the name of John Thompson and accepted the position of role player.

Flyers … The University of Memphis will soon be presented a “hard to turn down” proposal from the Grizzlies to join them in the new arena. Heavy-hitter boosters are being polled as a way of testing the waters.

The Sporting News picked the U of M football team to finish fifth in C-USA, with seven wins. If they’re right, Memphis spends Christmas in Hawaii. TSN picked Louisville to win the conference with 12 wins, which could result in a BCS bid, leaving the AXA Liberty Bowl without a team. Remember these are just predictions, but, just in case, I’m sure Steve Ehrhart is dusting off the contract to remind Louisville of its commitment.

Ramblings … Did Magic Johnson play pick-up with some U of M players and declare Billy Richmond, Earl Barron, and Antonio Burks ready to be big-time players? That’s what I’m hearing … The August trial of Lynn Lang is actually a trial of college sports … Just asking: How much of the multimillion dollar deal between Coca-Cola and the NCAA will filter down to the athletes?

Categories
We Recommend We Recommend

friday, 21

At TheatreWorks tonight, the Emerald Theatre Company opens a cabaret show that features 14 Memphians performing Broadway songs. Shiver. Dinner With Friends, Donald Margulies Pulitzer Prize-winning tale about divorce, opens at Playhouse on the Square. There s a special opening at Jay Etkin Gallery tonight for Art Bridges, with the Kids of Bridges. Tonight s Live at the Garden Concert Series kicks off its second season at Memphis Botanic Garden with a concert by Ray Charles and opening act Ruby Wilson. Forrest Gump is the feature tonight at The Orpheum Theatre Classic Movie Series. Shiver. There s a big Crawfish Boil with fresh Arkansas crawfish at Cordova Cellars Winery. Crash Into June and Neilson Hubbard are at the Lounge tonight. Retrospect, Proto, E.P.D., and Vitality are at the New Daisy, along with Halle Berry kidding, kidding. There s a late-night dance party with DJ Geno at Isaac Hayes Food, Music, Passion. The B-52 s are at the Horseshoe Casino in Tunica. And, as always, The Chris Scott Band is at Poplar Lounge.

Categories
Music Music Features

Sound Advice

I could write a surrealist opus about the divinely hallucinatory effects of The Warlocks‘ new album, Rise and Fall, but space forbids. If Syd Barrett had collaborated on Mercury Rev’s Yourself Is Steam, injecting each track with the breathy pop of “Carwash Hair,” it would have sounded a lot like Rise and Fall. Following a mellower path than the Flaming Lips and other, similarly psychedelic bands that came of age in the ’90s, the Warlocks’ music is less sonic attack than magical full-body foreplay. It leaves you tingling, sweaty, tearful, and certain you’ve just witnessed something too beautiful to be fully understood. They will be at the Young Avenue Deli on Tuesday, June 25th, with Mouse Rocket, the pet project of the Lost Sounds’ Alicja Trout. And while on the subject of the Deli …

Writing for Nashville Scene, Noel Murray says, “[The alt-country band Saddlesong can] blow away most of the retro-minded neo-honky-tonk acts who dwell outside of Music City.” Here, Murray pathetically misses the fact that those retro-minded bands exist outside of Music City because (except for the lately lame BR-549 and the great Joe Buck) Music City hasn’t been in the business of making real country for years. Saddlesong’s best offering, “Glory,” is nothing more than a rocked-up reworking of Kenny Rogers’ hit “The Gambler” with uninspired gospel imagery. It’s alternative only to CMT and an excellent indicator that Nashville is still lost. At least Memphis’ most-improved Southern rockers, Bumpercrop, are on hand to give the ticket some oomph. This double bill goes down on Friday, June 21st. — Chris Davis

A recently formed support organization founded by the Rock-and-Roll Grandma herself, Cordell Jackson, the Memphis Music Community will have a coming-out party for itself on Tuesday, June 25th, at the Palm Court in Overton Square. The event will celebrate the release of a compilation CD, Living In a State Of Love, which features tracks from 14 diverse local acts (including a vintage cut from the Bill Black Combo). Highlights include Jackson’s own “Basketball Widow” and Nancy Apple‘s lovely “Fooled By the Heart.” The album also gives a sense of the non-blues variety that the Beale/downtown scene currently offers with the rockabilly of The Dempseys‘ “Back To the Dog House,” the fusion-y jazz of FreeWorld‘s “2nd and Beale,” and the vocal soul of The Masqueraders‘ “Merry Christmas.” Many of the artists found on the CD will be performing at the show, which begins at 7:30 p.m. with a $5 cover.

Singer-songwriter Neilson Hubbard, whose last album, Why Men Fail, with its aching, beatifully bent pop à la Big Star, sounds even finer now than it did upon its 2000 release, will be at the Lounge on Friday, June 21st. Joining Hubbard will be local pop band Crash Into June, who have done studio work with Hubbard and who mine a similar vein of smart popcraft with similarly rewarding results. — Chris Herrington

Categories
Politics Politics Beat Blog

Politics

Oh, Henry!

The media favorite is still playing catch-up with Van Hilleary in the GOP primary.

by JACKSON BAKER

The two Republican candidates for governor have different attitudes toward the media.

Fourth District U.S. Rep. Van Hilleary, fairly universally perceived to be the front-runner, is more than somewhat wary of the fourth estate. As the congressman, who has been relying predominantly on public events and news releases, sees it, he’s been burned by nonstop and unfair criticism in the press. In some quarters, Hilleary thinks he’s been subject to ridicule while his opponent, former state Rep. Jim Henry of Kingston, has become something of a media darling.

There’s something to Hilleary’s notion. Henry is at ease with reporters and seeks them out in his continuing effort to play catch-up. “Free media” is one of the basic strategies used by underfunded candidacies. But in a conversation at his new East Memphis headquarters last week, Henry vowed to outspend his opponent on media advertising the rest of the way until August 1st, and, although he won’t be required to file a financial disclosure until July 25th, he claims that he has out-raised Hilleary “since the first of the year.”

Henry’s advertising strategy includes 100 new billboards which went up on Tennessee thoroughfares this past Monday. All of them bear the candidate’s likeness and the slogan “Ready for the Job.” (That replaces the earlier one, “Smart, Qualified, and Electable,” which, said Henry, was “just us having some fun.”)

The former House Republican leader, who had close working relations with former Governor Lamar Alexander, now a candidate for the U.S. Senate, says that he “would welcome” the support of current Governor Don Sundquist, who has hinted that he might endorse Henry but hasn’t done so yet. (The governor has endorsed Alexander in his Senate primary race against 7th District congressman Ed Bryant.)

Henry cited a recent electronic poll done by a Knoxville TV station showing him standing at 21 percent against Hilleary’s 41 percent and maintained that those numbers put him “on course.” He acknowledged that the poll was unscientific and acknowledged further that news reports over the year or so of his candidacy have tended to recycle at intervals the same theory that he was about to make a major move and threaten Hilleary’s lead. It hasn’t happened yet, but Henry says the new media blitz will make it happen.

On the burning issue of the day a revenue solution for Tennessee’s budget crisis Henry continues to insist that he’s for “tax reform.” Although that term is increasingly used in political circles as a synonym for support of an income tax, Henry says he isn’t recommending one. “I’m not at all sure that would be a solution to our revenue problems. It’s more of a ‘fairness’ issue than anything else.” But he won’t close the door on that option, as both Hilleary and Democratic front-runner Phil Bredesen, the former mayor of Nashville, have. Both are “demagoguing,” and their pledges to “manage” the state out of its fiscal dilemma run “counter to belief,” says Henry, who maintains that the difference between the two is that “people expect Bredesen to know better.”

What Henry is proposing is a constitutional convention to redesign the state’s tax structure (this to be undertaken after some stopgap legislation in the meantime). “We can’t just ram something down the people’s throat,” he said. “We’ve got to give them a voice.” But one thing was certain and undeniable, he averred: “The state needs new revenue. There’s no way out of that.”

· Carol Chumney, runner-up in last month’s Democratic primary for Shelby County mayor, has left the law firm of Glankler, Brown, where she had been for the last several years. Chumney has established her own private practice in White Station Tower, where she says she will maintain a general practice but will specialize in the areas of personal injuries, workers’ compensation, divorce, criminal defense, child custody, adoption, and employment law.

· U.S. Rep. Harold Ford Jr. will serve as moderator for a “Congressional Roundtable” featuring AmeriCorps volunteers and former President Bill Clinton on Thursday in the Rayburn House Office Building in Washington.

The meeting, sure to be a high-profile one, is being held in conjunction with National Service Day and is sponsored by the Democratic Leadership Council (DLC), the organization of conservative-to-moderate Democrats which served as a launching pad for the presidential bid by Clinton, who had been one of the group’s presidents.

Ford is now an active member of the DLC and of its related organizations, including the New Democratic Coalition in the House of Representatives. The Memphis congressman serves on the executive council of the NDC.

Watching the Rear

Both candidates for mayor have to secure their lines of support.

by JACKSON BAKER

One part of conventional wisdom has it that Democrat A C Wharton is a shoo-in for Shelby County mayor because of (a) his likeability; (b) his expertise; and (c) perhaps most importantly, his demographic edge.

A counter argument goes that Republican nominee George Flinn could end up the winner on the strength of his personal resources coupled with the huge GOP primary vote expected in two major state-ballot races — that for U.S. senator involving Lamar Alexander and Ed Bryant and the 7th District congressional contest in which three of the five candidates have local bases.

Both of these either/or scenarios may have to be revised in accordance with circumstances that could undermine the candidates’ expected party support.

In Wharton’s case, the problem has a famous surname: Ford. Sir Isaac Ford, the youngest son of former 9th District congressman Harold Ford Sr. and the brother of the current congressman, is making his maiden race for public office as an independent candidate in the mayor’s race, and, while no one — perhaps not even young Ford — can imagine him as the winner, many are wondering if he can upset Wharton’s apple cart.

Flinn’s concern is the tenuous state of Republican unity. Not only are some longtime Republicans close to his recent primary opponent, state Rep. Larry Scroggs, still aggrieved at what they see as having been unfair attacks upon their man, but the party’s nominal leader, incumbent Shelby County mayor Jim Rout, seems to have his own reservations about Flinn.

Several Republican regulars report recent conversations in which either Rout or another member of his family has expressed sympathy for Wharton’s mayoral ambitions. Asked about this on Tuesday, the mayor merely repeated what he has said for public consumption — that he is “heavily involved” with four other races and will “play no active role” in the mayor’s race.

For the record, the beneficiaries of Rout’s support (and fund-raising help) are GOP gubernatorial candidate Jim Henry, senatorial candidate Alexander, 7th District congressional candidate David Kustoff, and Republican sheriff’s nominee Mark Luttrell.

Several members of the Republican Party’s moderate faction have talked out loud lately about forming a consensus with like-minded Democrats to endorse, or at least openly support, a tandem of Wharton and Luttrell.

Rout, however, says, “I am a Republican and plan to support the ticket.” That statement echoes the one which is being urged upon other party members these days by local party chairman Alan Crone, who personally has no reservations about rendering stout and specific public support for Flinn by name. “I’m excited by George’s vision,” says Crone, who has cited the candidate’s pledge of “accountability” as one of the reasons for that excitement.

But the same word had proved troubling to Rout, who wondered if Flinn had intended it as an ex post facto rebuke to the Republican incumbent’s own administration, which has been targeted in some quarters for the county’s current $1.3 billion in public debt. Flinn sat down with the mayor last week and attempted to reassure him on that score, and virtually the first words out of the Republican nominee’s mouth at a subsequent Chamber of Commerce-sponsored mayoral forum were expressions of support for Rout’s conduct in office.

At the same forum, Sir Isaac Ford made what was for most observers his debut in the race. In one sense, Ford formed a triad with two other candidates whom no one gives a chance — newcomer Johnny Kelly and Libertarian Bruce Young — while most eyes and ears were on Flinn and Wharton, both of whom, stressing education and fiscal solvency, held their own.

In another sense, though, Ford clearly set himself apart from his fellow also-rans. Some of his points seemed hazy or were set forth in rambling fashion — maybe a good thing for this audience, since the position papers released so far by the self-declared “hip-hop” candidate contain some strikingly radical ideas. (Notable among them is a proposal to spend “billions” on reparations for slavery.)

But the young candidate obviously possesses an attitude — compounded of self-belief, confidence, and personal assertiveness — that runs through his highly political family and, in its fully developed form, can even be called charisma. Right now, though, most people, even Ford-family familiars, see Sir Isaac more as a case of pointless chutzpah.

But maybe, some are beginning to wonder, there’s method to the madness. Despite the overt support being given Wharton’s candidacy by the Fords and their allies, might not Sir Isaac’s candidacy be something of a hedge? Or a reminder to Wharton about who his long-term friends are?

In any case, the name Ford commands considerable loyalty among Memphis’ inner-city Democrats (a non-relative named Barry Ford upset a party regular for a position on the Democratic executive committee some years back), and all by itself could drain away enough votes from Wharton to give him serious worries.

For this reason, several Wharton supporters have begun to urge the former congressman and his son, U.S. Rep. Harold Ford Jr., to erase all doubt by making themselves both visible and vocal for the Democratic nominee.

It remains to be seen. Indeed, as we look ahead to the traditionally volatile month of July, much still remains to be seen in the case of both major mayoral candidates.

Categories
Music Record Reviews

Short Cuts

Maladroit

Weezer

(Interscope)

In the past decade, Weezer have made only three albums, each one catchy and memorable — despite the long gap between numbers two and three — and each one with its own distinct formula. The band’s eponymous debut (the blue album) melded pop hooks to the polite sounds of mid-’90s alternative radio. The follow-up, 1996’s Pinkerton, welded similar pop hooks to punk snottiness, its looser yet more accomplished sound almost unanimously maligned by critics. And the much-hyped, long-awaited, eponymous third album (the green album) took Rivers Cuomo’s by-now signature pop hooks and pasted them onto heavy-metal riffs, raising eyebrows and sending those very same critics down to the corner used-CD store to find out what those meddling emo fans had known all along.

So Maladroit, Weezer’s fourth album but only its second with a damn title, marks a momentous point in the group’s career: Not only is it the first time the band has used the same formula to make two albums, it’s also the first album on which pop is not the foundation.

Like its bright-green predecessor, Maladroit is full of hard-rock riffage and angsty snarl, but there’s little here that is memorable. Cuomo & Co. seem to have used most of the good riffs and all the catchy hooks on the green album. Songs like “Take Control,” “Dope Nose,” and the strangely aggressive “Slob” rock without any real urgency and fall out of memory with the final strained chord. Slower numbers like “Death and Destruction” and the lame “December,” which even Cuomo’s unrelenting irony can’t redeem, slow to a crawl before anything memorable happens. “Burnt Jamb” attempts to re-create the idyllic offhandedness of “Island In the Sun,” but Cuomo inserts an uninspired, unrelated guitar riff in place of a chorus.

Without pop hooks as anchors, Cuomo’s emotionally unraveled persona is surprisingly hard to take. It was endearing on blue and green, and on Pinkerton, his emotional pain was well-matched only by his candid expressiveness. But on Maladroit, his lyrics are whiny, self-absorbed, grating, and not the least bit sympathetic.

By now, Weezer’s rock-and-roll equations have been recalculated by scores of artists, often with better results. Compared to Maladroit, Phantom Planet’s The Guest is catchier, and Andrew W.K.’s debut is loads more fun. Too bad nothing on this ho-hum album adds up so well.

Then again, maybe time will be good to this one too. Give Maladroit five years to marinate and it could become another cult fave. But not for now. — Stephen Deusner

Grade: C

New Connection

Todd Snider

(Oh Boy Records)

The problem with most singer-songwriters is that one side of the hyphen always outweighs the other: They’re either gifted singers who can’t write an honest, original song to save their lives or they’re fluent lyricists who can’t sing their own songs persuasively. With his insightful lyrics and well-meaning but white-bread voice, former Memphian Todd Snider once landed squarely in the latter camp, but on his fifth album, New Connection, he unexpectedly blurs the line between his strengths and weaknesses.

The best moments on New Connection are those when his voice — which has assumed an evocative rasp over time — contains enough emotion to match his lyrics. On “Rose City,” for instance, he inflects the last note of each line to perfectly capture his feelings of dislocation and longing.

In this regard, “Anywhere” might just be the highlight of his career. He builds the song around what would be a throwaway line for most other singer-songwriters: “Let’s get out of here/I’ll go anywhere/With you.” But he sings it in a fragile, broken whisper, his understated delivery making the words all the more direct and startling.

Alas, Snider the songwriter is also clever — too clever. On “Vinyl Records” (note the redundancy), he rambles on and on about the artists in his record collection, sounding like Billy Joel teaching American history. Snider’s keen enough to poke fun at himself for having “piles and piles and piiiles of Tom Petty,” but there’s little point to the song beyond revealing his own cleverness. And on “Beer Run,” which is set at a Robert Earl Keen concert, he tells us about “a couple of frat guys from Abilene” who get duped with a marijuana cigarette. Not to generalize, but I find that really hard to believe.

Despite his tenure as a singer-songwriter, Snider still sounds like he’s learning the ropes and paying his dues, which aren’t necessarily bad things. Once he gets a better grasp of his own strengths and weaknesses, he’ll give us his breakthrough album full of heartbreakers. —SD

Grade: B

You Can’t Fight What You Can’t See

Girls Against Boys

(Jade Tree)

Yes, but who is really looking? I don’t think anyone was too jarred when Girls Against Boys’ last album, the inappropriately named Freak*on*ica (if it’s a joke, GVSB, try to make your next one funny) failed as both major-label debut and artistic statement. Bidding war + a now-defunct major label + previously established indie band = Surprise! The album sucked! The music biz has boiled this particular equation into vapors for the past 10 years, and GVSB have spent the past four removing themselves from it and reentering the world of the independent label. The label in question is Jade Tree, the imprint that has literally birthed, nurtured, and destroyed the “emo” genre.

GVSB are relocated stalwarts of DisChord Records, with three of the static members coming out of DisChord’s overlooked band Soul Side. Because I like to do my research, I exhumed GVSB’s 1995 release Cruise Yourself from my record shelf and immediately understood why this 7-year-old piece maintains its mint condition. GVSB have always been good at one thing that is not a good thing. They mix three variables to poor ends: the Fall, the thankfully forgotten swagger of the Cocktail Nation movement, and the early ’90s aggro-rock usually associated with their onetime label Touch and Go. That combo sounds just as ill-conceived coming out of the speakers as it looks on paper. After the major-label jaunt that produced the Garbage-flavored (no jokes, please) electro-metal of the record I refuse to mention again, GVSB 2002 are making some middle-of-the-road, post-wallet-chain rock that should appeal to the cerebral Queens of the Stone Age fan who’s not afraid to let the term “badass” enter his/her vernacular every so often. A top-down, crotch-grabbing summertime ride for the sensitive, aging indie rocker, You Can’t Fight has GVSB falling out of the unoriginality tree and finally hitting every branch. — Andrew Earles

Grade: D+

Categories
Music Music Features

Blinded By the Lights

There is something hilarious about the mere mention of the word “laser” — the way Mike Myers’ Dr. Evil torturously elongates it; its delightful use as a proper noun on American Gladiators. It is both harshly futuristic and disarmingly retro at the same time.

“Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation.” I used to repeat it like a mantra back in my prepubescent mathlete days when the recitation of scientific acronyms could very well be the zenith of a Saturday night’s activities. But a couple years later in high school, when I was trying to unsuccessfully woo potential paramours with dates to a laser rock interpretation of the Doors’ oeuvre, “Stimulated Emission” had taken on an entirely new meaning. The announcement that the Pink Palace was reviving the tradition of rock-oriented laser-light shows for the Moldy Oldy Laser Show Festival was more than enough to trigger those foggy memories of yore. And if I seem blinded by nostalgia, please forgive me — for the lights have just been dimmed, there are luminescent Spirograph designs shimmering above, and the really rocking part of that song that we’ve all heard a thousand times before is about to begin

In 1982, the Pink Palace presented its very first laser rock show. Not surprisingly, it was Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon, the urtext of laser rock albums. (Like most rock-music laser-light shows staged by planetariums, it had the dual purpose of increasing awareness of the museum’s facilities and, perhaps more importantly, raising funds.) Dark Side of the Moon is a perfect choice for a laser-light show. Its synthesis of commercial pop and cynical psychedelia appeals to successive generations of rock neophytes. The album cover accurately depicts the prismatic process that the Pink Palace’s Spectra Physics 164 White Light Multigas Laser uses to create every color within the visible spectrum. Even its very title must surely endear it to rock laserists, who are often lovers, if not students, of astronomy.

Twenty years after the original programs, the Sharpe Planetarium at the Pink Palace is reviving several of its archived laser-light shows. Humbly titled the Moldy Oldy Laser Show Festival, it has resurrected the Beatles, Metallica, Pink Floyd, and Pearl Jam laser shows for weekends in the month of June. The title of the festival refers as much to the dated technology as it does to the classic-rock tunes and is designed to complement the new exhibit “Behind the Scenes: Curious Collections of the Pink Palace.” The shows themselves were all designed by relatively ancient software running on DOS. They have been archived on ADAT media, like prehistoric weevils suspended in amber.

Anthony Hale, who now runs the IMAX theater at the U.S. Space and Rocket Center in Huntsville, Alabama, created all of the original shows that constitute the Moldy Oldy festival. Although it is currently impossible to edit these archived programs, there is still a little wiggle room for improvised visualizations. Currently, the two main rock laserists are Ben F. Hudgens, planetarium coordinator, and Kathey Nix, theaters manager. In addition to the archived shows, Hudgens and Nix are able to use an array of supplemental light effects. On a handmade console, there are over 20 different effects with such imaginative labels as “Ferris Wheels,” “Jailbars,” and the refreshingly licentious “Boobs.” Now, don’t worry, champions of decency, the shows are approved for all ages. None of the rock songs contain profanity and these un-anatomically correct laser “Boobs” more closely resemble water balloons filled with neon tetra.

Most sources point to Los Angeles’ Laserium as the location of the first rock laser show. Ivan Dryer, an astronomer-turned-filmmaker, somehow convinced the Griffith Observatory that it would be a good idea to let a gaggle of drug-addled teens gather in the planetarium on weekend nights to get their collective gourds rattled by a “light and music phantasma.” On November 19, 1973, the first Laserium concert was staged with Dryer manually operating the laser squiggles to accompanying music. Dryer took baby steps to rockville at first, mixing in Emerson, Lake, and Palmer with classical music by Copland and Holst. But it wasn’t long before rock became the music of choice for the Laserium, and within months, they were turning away crowds of suburban stoners. (Sadly, after 28 years, the Laserium closed its doors, but after a year, it is planning to reopen and saddle itself with the already dated moniker Cyberdome.)

Over the mid-’70s, the worlds of science and rock continued their ardent flirtation. Rock bands began taking elaborate laser-based shows on the road. Blue Oyster Cult shot lasers from their wrists with custom-built blasters. Kiss knockoffs Angel stupefied audiences with holographic seraphim. And planetariums around the country began creating their own laser rock shows. Attending these programs while sauced on psychedelics became a rite of passage for America’s teahead teens.

Most people of my generation (X) seem to have at least one pleasant memory of attending a laser rock show, no matter how inchoate it may be. I will never forget my own transcendent glee during a presentation of laser AC/DC. Timed to throb with the chorus of “Big Balls,” two perfect neon-green circles coruscated above while I thrilled at being allowed, nay, encouraged, to yell “big balls!” in a museum setting. And it is certainly the low-tech imagery that gives the programs in the Moldy Oldy festival a quaint charm. The title is not just self-deprecating. “We didn’t want people to be disappointed in the limitations of the laser shows,” says Nix. It’s true — many screensavers are like Jerry Bruckheimer “blow-’em-up” productions compared to the line-art animations of these retro creations.

But viewers last week at the festival didn’t seem to mind the simplistic renderings. Personally, I was impressed with the economic use of the laser images. For instance, the benign helicopter used to bring the Fab Four in for a landing during “Help” looked awfully similar to the war machine used at the beginning of “One” by Metallica. But one aspect of the shows was decidedly high-tech: the sound. Over 12 kilowatts power a six-track sound system that, on certain magical nights, can creep into the three-digit decibel range. The Metallica connoisseur and photographer I brought along last Friday reported hearing elements in songs he had never heard before. “The only time I have ever listened to Metallica louder than that,” he said, “Metallica was in the same room.”

The phenomenon of laser rock declined in popularity in the ’90s, and the fate of future Pink Palace shows is dependent on the success of the Moldy Oldy Laser Show Festival. There are some permanent shows on the schedule, however. In November, the museum will revive its annual holiday show with Mannheim Steamroller performing Christmas carols. In February 2003, Pink Floyd’s — you guessed it — Dark Side of the Moon will be played in its entirety. And, of course, next month will mark the 20th year of Elvis Presley’s Legacy in Lights, timed to commemorate the 25th anniversary of the King’s death. Easily the museum’s most popular laser show, it also contains hundreds of exclusive slides of Elvis and chronologically traces him through his Sun, Hollywood, and concert years.

In a great episode of Freaks and Geeks, a short-lived TV show about early ’80s teenagers, the stoner kids are all set to enjoy an evening of Pink Floyd at the local Laser Dome and, in anticipation, are yelling “Floyd rules!” and “Comfortably Numb!” But instead of the otherworldly strains of Pink Floyd, “The Devil Went Down To Georgia” kicks in while the laser depicts cowboy boots and anthropomorphic cacti. The looks on their despondent faces are priceless as the kids begin to realize they have accidentally attended Southern Rock Night at the Laser Dome. It’s a scene that I can imagine happened when the Pink Palace temporarily abandoned laser rock and took a mistress. And that mistress’ name was laser country. Garth Brooks was the only artist the Pink Palace tried. Country fans showed up for a couple of weeks then stayed away in drawling droves. Laser and rock — why try to break up a good thing? But experiment and failure are part of the scientific method. Maybe I learned something at the museum after all.

The Moldy Oldy Laser Show Festival

The Pink Palace Museum and Planetarium

Running through June 29th

Fridays: 8:30 p.m., The Beatles; 10 p.m., Metallica

Saturdays: 8:30 p.m., Pink Floyd; 10 p.m., Pearl Jam

Categories
Film Features Film/TV

Bad Dog, Bad Boy

The plot is simple. Four twentysomethings and a Great Dane solve mysteries as Mystery Inc. They are: the beautiful damsel in distress Daphne, the brainy nerd Velma, handsome but vapid Fred (he wears an ascot), and the shaggy well, Shaggy. The Great Dane, as anyone alive in the last 20 or so years knows, is Scooby-Doo.

After foiling yet another sinister villain (whose supernatural powers are easily explained by Velma, as usual), Mystery Inc. disbands when Fred takes all the credit — everyone, that is, except for Shaggy and Scooby. Two years later, the eccentric Mondavarious (Rowan Atkinson, in a much more palatable comic turn than his Bean fare) separately summons the Mystery Inc.-ers to his Spooky Mountain theme park, hoping to reunite the gang to solve the mystery of why his patrons leave the island as zombies. What ensues is a parade of zany high jinks inspired by (if not directly borrowed from) the original Saturday morning cartoon.

This movie is weird. It isn’t quite adult enough for adults — albeit there is a pretty funny marijuana joke peppered in for anyone who rightly suspected Shaggy of partaking of more than Scooby Snacks. It’s a little too scary for kids — misery and woe to the preadolescent who is afraid of clowns and funhouses, ’cause there is some pretty messed-up stuff on Spooky Island. In fact, I was even a little creeped out myself by some of the monster gore and demonic occupants of the haunted castle. There is also some odd business involving a soul-stealing device — hence the zombies. If I were a child, I would come out of this experience with major questions about what a soul is, how it can be extracted from my body, and whether or not it can bounce about like a pinball. Also a bit frightening: the zombies, who talk in “true dat” street slang and listen to Sugar Ray.

But scariest of all: Someone at Warner Bros. thought this movie might be a good idea. Why bother producing a live-action version of a cartoon only to reproduce, to the smallest detail, the way cartoons work? That’s fun for about five minutes but then what? And the acting? This is no Who Framed Roger Rabbit?. Real-life sweethearts Sarah Michelle Gellar as Daphne and Freddie Prinze Jr. as Fred are as flat as their pen-and-ink predecessors. Though Linda Cardellini makes a game Velma, this movie does nothing to support the lesbian rumors that are traditionally associated with the character. (A kiss between her and Daphne was excised from the film just before its release. Damn!) Only Matthew Lillard as Shaggy rises above as at least a human caricature. His delivery is nearly letter-perfect Casey Kasem (the cartoon’s original voice), with some actual pathos and charm the original Shaggy lacked — an improvement. Scooby is the cheapest-looking computer-generated work since Michael Keaton’s snowman in Jack Frost and the Scorpion Monster in The Mummy Returns. His vocabulary has improved, but his body should have stayed a cartoon. Even a Pete’s Dragon cartoon/live-action treatment might have looked snazzier.

The script is nothing new. This plot has figured in bits and pieces in better movies and even better episodes of the series. Although, unlike the original series, there are human feelings on display, they are as one-dimensional as just about everything else. A superficial friendship-overcomes-everything theme does not redeem here. I had many of the same problems with The Flintstones. Colorful, amusing, but flat flat flat. But Hanna-Barbera didn’t exactly produce the most three-dimensional cartoons, did it? Bugs Bunny this isn’t. Hell, this isn’t even as involving as a (good) G.I. Joe. But this is the studio that brought you the Hair Bears, Snagglepuss, and the Shmoo. Be disappointed. Be very disappointed.

Bo List

Weaponry seems to be the main focus of Hollywood’s summer-movie slate — from the threat of nuclear terrorism in The Sum Of All Fears to the possibility of an atomic bomb falling into the wrong hands in Bad Company to The Bourne Identity, which places its vision of armaments in the form of a human being. That human being is one Jason Bourne (played by a buffer-than-usual Matt Damon), a top-secret government agent who becomes the target of an intricate CIA hit after he loses his memory.

With its trans-European setting and cool casting, The Bourne Identity is sleeker than many of the early summer blockbusters. Unfortunately, Damon is the weakest link in a cast that includes Franka Potente (the fire-haired sprinter at the heart of Run Lola Run), Clive Owen (who made audiences take notice as the ultra-cool card dealer in Mike Hodges’ memorable Croupier), and American ingenue Julia Stiles. Beginning with Damon’s rescue at sea (his seemingly lifeless body is found adrift in the Mediterranean by a fishing boat), The Bourne Identity works on the same trajectory and schematic as Enemy Of the State. Like Will Smith, who’s targeted by a pervasive and fast-acting government organization for reasons unknown to him, Damon is the focal point of a massive witch-hunt by an equally diabolical U.S. agency. And, like Smith, Damon must unravel why he’s being chased while he’s running like hell.

Unable to remember his own name, Damon discovers he has a host of uncanny skills — he has the fighting abilities of Bruce Lee at warp speed; he speaks a multitude of languages; and he’s constantly mapping out escape routes in every room he enters — plus an unusual box of goodies at the local Swiss bank — a plethora of passports, a gun, and a hefty sum of money. So what’s an amnesiac to assume? Damon quickly figures out he was working for some high-profile folks and now is their main target.

Hoping to get from Zurich to Paris unnoticed, Damon recruits a comely German with a rickety old Mini (Franka Potente) to take him across the border. The two quickly become more than just friends, and, before you know it, the forgetful spy and footloose European are running scared from hired assassins and intricate wire-tappings.

Though Damon’s past is never fully revealed, the most disappointing element of The Bourne Identity is the fact that the film focuses most of its attention on the duo on the lam. Certainly more compelling is the assassination plot launched against Damon, in which said evil U.S. agency activates a circle of European spies (who were crafted similarly to Damon) to hunt down their loose cannon. Clive Owen plays the predominant assassin of this bunch, but his role is diminished too greatly as well.

With its Matrix-like fight scenes and intricate spy-gaming, The Bourne Identity teeters on the edge of boredom without ever toppling over. — Rachel Deahl

Categories
News The Fly-By

PYRAMID ENVY

In a story headlined “Tyson’s Legacy: Quitter,” Boston Globe sportswriter Ron Borges went out of his way to take a few potshots at Memphis. Borges wrote, “[Tyson’s] immediate future was decided as [the referee] counted him out at The Pyramid, a building that claims to be ‘the third largest pyramid in the world.’ That is a claim as phony as the one Tyson has long made of being ‘the baddest man on the planet.’ One isn’t much of a pyramid and the other isn’t much of a man.”

To a certain degree, Borges has a point. The Pyramid — originally called the Great American Pyramid — is only 321 feet tall, a whopping 29 feet shorter than the pyramidal Luxor hotel in Las Vegas. The Great Pyramid of Cheops, which sets the standard for pyramids worldwide, is 482 feet tall, and the Khafre pyramid is 447 feet tall. So, indeed, when it comes to pyramids, we are, at the very least, number four. Still, the last time we checked, our Pyramid (not much of one) is significantly larger than any situated in Boston (which, the last time we checked, hasnone), and Mr. Borges has yet to challengeTyson (who is not much of a man) to a Texas cage-match.

Categories
Hot Properties Real Estate

Dutch Treat

The Annesdale-Snowden neighborhood was once part of a 200-acre estate surrounding a grand Italianate villa built in 1850 by Dr. Samuel Mansfield on Pigeon Roost Road, now Lamar Avenue. Colonel Robert Brinkley bought the property in 1869 as a wedding present for his daughter, Annie Overton Brinkley, and her husband, Colonel Robert Bogardus Snowden. The estate was named Annesdale in honor of the bride.

By the early 20th century, the once-rural property was surrounded by urban growth. Two of the Snowdens’ sons, John Bayard Snowden and Robert Brinkley Snowden, were partners in a real estate firm. In 1910, they broke up the property around Annesdale, keeping about seven acres for the house grounds and developing a new residential area called the Snowden Homestead, with streets named for the Snowden children: Agnes, Dorothy, Minna, Bayard (now Central Avenue), and Brinkley (now Sledge Avenue). Now known as Annesdale-Snowden, the area is a Memphis Landmarks district and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

The house at 1409 Agnes Place is exemplary of popular middle-class housing built in the first quarter of the 20th century. It is not a “pure” style but rather a composite of elements — in this case, the Colonial Revival style, which became extraordinarily fashionable after the Philadelphia Centennial Exhibition of 1876, with details influenced by the Craftsman style, popular from around 1900 until the 1930s. The steeply pitched gambrel roof places the house in what is generally known as the Dutch Colonial style, but the square balusters that screen the pergola-like front porch are clearly drawn from the Craftsman and Mission styles popularized by Gustav Stickley in his magazine The Craftsman. The house has an unusual gambrel dormer over the front porch, a feature that creates interesting spaces in the second-floor bedrooms.

The first floor has a spacious and pleasant living room with a corner fireplace embellished by an original Craftsman tile surround. A wide, cased opening connects the living and dining rooms. The staircase between the living and dining rooms features a distinctly Craftsman balustrade alternating square and rectangular balusters with diamond-shaped cutouts. A short hallway between the dining room and kitchen contains a half-bath and stairs to the full basement. The kitchen has been updated but still has room for additional cabinetry or perhaps a work table or island. A breakfast room with a laundry area adjoins the kitchen. A pair of arched doorways lead from the breakfast room to a den added some years ago; this sunny, south-facing room could also be used as a dining area or home office.

The second floor has four almost identical bedrooms and a bath opening off the central hall. One of the rear bedrooms has its own full bath and a walk-in closet added at the same time as the den below.

A rear deck opening off the kitchen and den provides a pleasant outdoor living space overlooking the deep backyard; it would be positively splendid with a pergola-styled roof. The property does not have the garage or backhouse typical of Midtown neighborhoods, but it does have a big building at the rear of the lot that was once a bar patronized by workers at the commercial and distribution businesses developed across the back street during both world wars; this would be a great space for a workshop, home office, or guest quarters.

This picturesque house offers an adaptable floor plan, lots of space, and an expansive setting — a winning combination for comfortable, contemporary living in a historic but lively and stable neighborhood.

1409 Agnes Place, 2,100 square feet, 4 bedrooms, 2 1/2 baths

$129,000

Realtor: Prudential Collins-Maury, Inc., Agent: Joe Spake, 751-4385 or 753-0700

www.spake.com