Arkansas Democrat-Gazette: "Othello" is "a wonderfully vivid and lively experience."

"Othello" pivots on villainous, camo-clad Iago
by Werner Trieschmann
June 27, 2011

LITTLE ROCK — Good productions should, at the very least, make an audience understand why a play is great. That Shakespeare’s Othello is a great play is beyond question, but the Arkansas Shakespeare Festival production, which opened at the Reynolds Performance Hall in Conway on Saturday, makes the tragedy a wonderfully vivid and lively experience.

It is helped in great measure in this by the performance of David Alford as Iago. Alford, who also happens to be the director, is electric in his malevolence and guile.

With his shaved head and dressed in camouflage, he is utterly believable as a soldier of second rank who can charm at parties (even performing a rap of Shakespeare’s surprisingly suitable verses) while putting together the pieces of his plan and sowing the seeds of doubt for poor Othello (Derrick Parker).

Alford transports this Othello to the modern Middle East, and this kind of setting-shift can be fraught with danger, often drawing unintended conclusions or simply distracting from the play itself. But the impressive set design by Chet Longley - a blasted place with ominous ruins and sandbagged fortresses - and incisive sound design by Matt Choirini make for an ideal setting where love can so easily and so quickly turn sour.

The wild, drunken party where Casio (an excellent Chris Crawford) loses his reputation is expertly staged. After it is done, you understand that this debauchery is part of the bargain in a war-torn land where soldiers are going to blow off steam after battle.

As Othello, Parker makes a convincing case for being a leader only too ready to be led to the madness that is jealousy. Parker, who sometimes speaks too softly in his first scenes, is especially effective in the second act when clutching at his head as if trying to rid himself of the thoughts Iago has planted there.

Paige Reynolds’ Desdemona is a touching figure, a soul who is completely unaware of the darkness that is enveloping her new husband. Likewise Emilia (Heather Dupree), who unwittingly helps her husband, Iago, set the trap for Othello. Adam Mincks as Roderigo has many nice moments where his displays of ignorance come in comic form.

But this Othello pivots on Iago, and Alford makes him so real and alive, you are on the edge of your seat at the end wanting a full explanation for his vile deeds. Shakespeare leaves that question hanging, not unlike a piece of tantalizing but bitter fruit. That the Arkansas Shakespeare Festival makes that question plain is but one measure of its success.

Othello continues as part of the Arkansas Shakespeare Festival through Sunday. Call (501) 450-3265.

Peter Gabriel fails to scratch my itch

I am increasingly frustrated with the artistic process of Peter Gabriel.

For most of my life, PG has been one of my artistic heroes. His early solo work and the earliest years of Genesis shaped much of my musical aesthetic, both as an artist and a listener. I have appreciated and enjoyed every phase his career has gone through, from bold avant-rock to pure pop to world music and into fusion of all those styles. I have enjoyed it all.

Until now.

Gabriel's latest album, Scratch My Back is one half of an ambitious project: he would release an album of covers, then release an album of the bands he's covered covering him. I enjoy tribute cover albums of all kinds, Shared Vision (Beatles), Two Rooms (Elton John), Tales from Yesterday (Yes), Supper's Ready (Genesis), Strong Hand of Love (Mark Heard), and Different for Girls (Joe Jackson, by all female artists) all have strong places in my iPod playlists. So I'm looking forward to And You Scratch Mine.

But that's just the problem with new Gabriel: looking forward to it. It seems like Peter Gabriel always has a new project percolating, then about to come out, then behind schedule, then years behind schedule. His last album, Up, justified the delay by being the single most impactful moment in his career since (and possibly even eclipsing) 1982's Security. The problem was that it had been ten freaking years since his last album, the hot-and-cold Us.

With Scratch My Back, the delay was only (only!) eight years. Would that the wait had been worth it. The idea of Gabriel covering Bowie, Paul Simon, and Radiohead is interesting as hell, even if the entire rest of the album is a bunch of songs I've never heard of by artists I don't give a crap about. The problem is twofold: 1) the songs are all dismal and depressing as hell, even songs that were originally uptempo, and 2) the instrumentation is all piano and orchestra. No guitars, no synth, no bass, no drums. Look back at those last two omissions. No Tony Levin on bass and Chapman stick, and no Manu Katche, no Jerry Marotta, no drummers of Ekome, no massive thrumming rhythm. In other words, this is a Peter Gabriel album missing the two things most endemic to Peter Gabriel's music: his innovative songwriting and his unparalleled sense of rhythm.

Of course, for an album of covers you don't expect Gabriel's songwriting, but his sense of arrangement should be front and center here. I want to hear "Heroes" played by Peter Gabriel's band, not by some nameless orchestra with a rhythmless and fairly soulless arrangement. Joe Jackson did "Heroes" when I saw him in 2001 and I can still hear the arrangement in my head. I just listened to Gabriel's version 20 minutes ago and I already can't remember it.

Gabriel's albums hold my attention as few artists' do. Songs I've heard hundreds of time still keep me rapt, and I continue to notice new aspects of the arrangement and production. I can't believe I'm saying this about Peter Gabriel, but I just don't care about any of the music on this album as I'm listening to it. The sole exception is "Book of Love," which was released on a movie soundtrack a few years ago. That's a lovely one-off of PG with an orchestra, a charming and stirring little piece of intimacy. The rest is just string washes and bland horns obscuring a bunch of songs I didn't know in the first place. For the first time in his career, Peter Gabriel has had a big musical idea that turned out to be a bad one.

The biggest frustration of it all is that when Up came out in 2002 PG told interviewers that the ten years it had taken to create that album had resulted in so much music that he planned to release a follow-up album just two years later. Where is that elusive disc, for which I have been waiting since 2004? It's got to be better than Scratch My Back. At least I have to assume that it would sound like a Peter Gabriel album.

The Gospel according to Eli

I couldn't sleep last night for two reasons: 1) my cat was making up for the fact that I haven't seen her much this week by demanding non-stop attention for most of the overnight hours, and 2) I can't stop thinking about "Book of Eli," which I saw last night, and scenes from which will be running through my head for weeks to come. As much as I have loved and been transported by science fiction films from the past couple years ("Avatar," "Iron Man," "District Nine"), this film stirred me to my soul like nothing has since "The Fountain."

Science fiction schmience fiction. This is just the best damn movie I have seen in years. Like all great sci-fi, and unlike science-looking fantasy of the "Star Wars" family, the futuristic setting for "Eli" is just a vehicle to tell a story that couldn't be told in an era that has actually existed. Great science fiction requires a Ringworld, a killer robot from the future, or a ritual of hasta'akala to make its point. "Eli" requires a post-apocalyptic setting so Denzel Washington can carry the last Bible on Earth, and so his eponymous character can paraphrase and simplify Scripture in such an elegant way that one wonders why one never thought of it before. And so he can kill lots of bad guys with a kick-ass machete.

It's hard to talk in detail about the film without giving away plot points; not only do I not want to give away plot points, but I don't even want people to know what kind of plot points there are to give away. The film is unpredictable and strange in its script, its pacing, and its every conflict resolution, and it's best experienced if you don't know what's coming. And it can be viewed from a number of perspectives. To some, it's a post-apocalyptic action movie. To some, it's a survival drama. To me, it's the explicit, agonizing statement of faith and sacrifice that "The Passion of the Christ" should have been but wasn't. It's the simple statement that without faith, the world will fall apart. Without hope, the world will fall apart. Without love, the world will fall apart. With Denzel killing bad guys with a kick-ass machete.

I love Denzel Washington. I think he's the best American screen actor of his generation and each generation since. I love how he embodies suppression of the extremes of emotion, always about to burst, so that when he explodes with a catharsis we feel terrible for him because he can't ever go back to the man he was before. He is always a real, honest man thrust into unbelievable circumstances and forced to believe them. Never have I seen him like this, so calm yet tense, sure yet doubtful. He is the living embodiment of mission and of his character's definition of faith: "Faith is knowing something even if you don't know something." Gary Oldman's performance is one of the best of his storied career as well; in fact, not knowing the cast ahead of time I had to keep watching him for 10 minutes before I was settled it was him. (He has a wonderful "Fifth Element" moment near the end that I found priceless.) And, of all people, Mila Kunis keeps up with the both of them. Mila Kunis. Who knew.

Don't read reviews. Don't talk to friends who have seen it and have a history of blurting out spoilers. Just go see this remarkable movie. Then get back in line and buy another ticket to see it again. Because you're going to want to.

Reviews, reviewers, and different markets.

Rather than hijack Dave's blog (scroll down to "Other People's Writing" if you want to share the pain), I'm going to make a few remarks in this space. Interestingly, Dave's discussion comes from remarks on yet another blog, so this is a topical three-peat.

It was remarked by a very polite Anonymous (a rare thing) on the subject of negative reviews in Richmond versus New York that "Reviews in the big markets are written by experienced theater critics who have the guts to tell the truth, and not sugar-coat everything."

So is the argument here that experienced critics have a better eye for crap? Or that they have earned the right to call plays "awful," "garbage," or "tripe," or to say that an actor "has no business working as a professional actor" or some such? I'm sorry, but I believe you can be critical of a play, even savage a production, while avoiding language that functions primarily as character attack. You can even do that on a blog. Even anonymously. To my mind, exceptional writers use descriptive language, not simplistic value judgments.

I've read reviews by both knowledgeable and ignorant critics that used nasty, deliberately insulting language. I read it far far far more when I lived in New York and DC than in Richmond or Albany. There are, I'm sure, many reasons for that, but I suspect the fact that artists in Richmond routinely run into critics in Ukrop's has something to do with it. Much like posting anonymously gives some people the freedom to be insulting, writing in a huge city does the same.

This isn't New York. It never will be. There's much less of the "artists waiting for a big break" here; enough persistence and finding the right niche can get you some fairly regular work here. Bad reviews won't force you out of town. Many of the artists in town are lifers. And there are only a half-dozen reviewers in the Circle. How foolish and impolitic would it be for them to use insulting language in reviews? Good luck getting an interview with one of the insulted actor's friends, which is pretty much 90% of the rest of the theatrical community. Honestly, we don't need the reviewers the way they need us.

I'm not going to find fault with a community of reviewers who chose to approach their craft with an eye partly toward building up the arts community in a town that needs building. Especially since there are plenty of voices, many (not all) anonymous, WITHIN the theatre community who have no problem tearing it down in the name of "honesty," an "honesty" that is sometimes embittered by not getting a part they wanted.

And if you think the local critics "sugar-coat everything," you must have only been in a lot of really exceptional shows. I've gotten plenty of tepid reviews in this town. I've read between the lines and knew what they meant. They were mostly right; examples of shows where my idea didn't work the way I'd envisioned or where my work just wasn't at as high a level as the role and company demanded. None of it changed the way I viewed my craft. Never have I gotten a bad review of work that I thought was flawless. I don't do theatre for reviewers. I don't take notes from them and I don't let them influence my artistic choices. I use them as a barometer for some things and I rely on them for promotional materials. And they provide a starting point for discussing the craft of theatre, which I love to do. Also, I've met many of them and they are nice people.

How many actors does it take to screw in a lightbulb? 100: 1 to do it and 99 to blog anonymously about how they could have done it better.

Style Weekly: "As You Like It" is "vibrant, witty"

From Style Weekly:

Contract of Breeches

The Richmond Shakespeareans sign up for a lot of costume changes in a play already full of mistaken identities.

by Mary Burruss

I confess: Richmond Shakespeare’s concept of five people playing all the parts in a Shakespeare play is often distracting, and at times I find the prop/costume changes awkward. But the five-actor version of “As You Like It,” playing at Second Presbyterian Church, has made me a convert to this type of production.

Director Andrew Hamm has done a masterful job of choreographing a vibrant, witty homage to this prototype of romantic comedy. The transitions were seamless, and the onstage costume changes mostly worked well.

The many characters who romped through the forest of Arden, celebrating the rites of spring with music and dance, could threaten to get mixed up — especially considering the multiple identities already at work within the story — but there was an ease and confidence to the production that precluded any disorientation.

Hamm warmed up the audience with a piano-accompanied set of contemporary love songs. It set the tone for a breezy show, delivering a cast of characters that exuded playfulness. Frank Creasy (as Charles, the Duke’s wrestler) pushed the limits of kayfabe during the better-than-WWE wrestling scene with Patrick Bromley’s Orlando.

Sunny LaRose was adorable as the love-struck Rosalind (disguised as the youth Ganymede in the forest). LaRose’s onstage relationship with Julia Rigby’s Celia portrayed a connection whose bond was “stronger than that of sisters.” And despite the wonderful silliness of Creasy’s dancing and Bromley and Adam Minks in women’s roles, the gender-bending performances of the two natural girls were the strongest overall.

The beautiful costumes designed by Rebecca Cairns blended soft, earthy tones of creams, gold and floral prints that intertwined through all the costumes like ivy on a tree trunk. The effect was a cohesive, well-tailored look that added a dash of sophistication and sumptuousness to the show. Cairns not only designed a whimsical collection of costumes, but also managed to define characters with minimal pieces that functioned well for those quick transformations.

"Style Weekly" Praises "Measure for Measure"

From this week's Style Weekly:

Quick-Change Artists
Actors make the most of multiple roles in “Measure for Measure.”
by David Timberline

Richmond Shakespeare Theatre’s practice of “doubling” — having each of its actors play two or three roles in a show — has always led to some interesting juxtapositions. Its current production of “Measure for Measure” may present the most fascinating and artistically rewarding combinations yet.

In this complex consideration of moral gray areas, Andrew Hamm portrays both the strict Duke’s deputy, Angelo, who must crack down on the reprobates of Vienna, and the unfortunate gentleman Claudio, who gets cracked down upon. Both of these characters are fraught with inner conflict, and it’s a tribute to Hamm’s considerable skills that he is able to make each man’s trajectory riveting and distinct. He even throws in for good measure an amusing comic turn as an elderly constable.

Hearing that Claudio has been sentenced to die, his novitiate sister, Isabella, leaves the nunnery to plead for his life. Angelo makes her a devil’s bargain: If she sleeps with him, he’ll free her brother. As Isabella, Liz Blake is convincingly enchanting and proves her acting mettle in the extreme emotional rollercoaster her character must ride.

Spurring the plot into greater complication is Vincentio, the Duke (David White), who disguises himself as a friar to spy on the proceedings. White doesn’t quite do enough to differentiate the Duke from the pimp Pompey, but he salvages his performance in some exceptional final scenes.

In other supporting roles, Julie Phillips makes her biggest impression as the bawdy Mistress Overdone, and while John Moss’ near-farcical take on the opportunistic Lucio sometimes seems to belong in a different play, it’s also consistently hilarious.

As is befitting one of Shakespeare’s “problem” plays, this production has some issues with the mix of comic and melodramatic elements. But the overall effect is a bracing — and gratifying — journey down a murky moral path.



This is my blog, rather than Richmond Shakespeare's, so I can make more personal commentary here without shame.

It's unfortunate that David Timberline and Mary Burruss have to come see such early performances in a show's run (they were both at the Thursday preview) to write a review that doesn't see print for almost two weeks after the fact. It's a bit of a disservice to the company, which loses a full week of media buzz, but it's also not fair to the reviewers, who are often seeing something of a work-in-progress at the beginning of opening weekend. Cases in point: the slippery carpets were a serious distraction for both actors and audience, and Dave White has really found some very specific and delightful differences between the Duke and Pompey in the past two weeks.

Then again, that's part of the wonder of theatre, isn't it? No two shows are alike, shows morph and evolve as they run, and no two audiences have the same experience. Perhaps all theatre reviews should be required to state the date of the performance the reviewer attended so the audience can say, "Hey, that was like two weeks ago. I wonder how the show is different now?"

Measure for Measure continues to be a mountaintop artistic experience for me. This script has gone from being a chore to read in October to possibly my favorite play in all of Shakespeare by January, from being a struggle to connect with to the most rewarding acting work of my life. I will be incredibly sad to see it go.

Honestly, to play those scenes with Liz Blake, I would do this show for free.

Don't tell Grant.

Times-Dispatch: "Measure" "Offers Much to Chew On"

From the Richmond Times-Dispatch:

A comedy wrestles with morality
Richmond ensemble takes on tangled plot of Shakespeare play
Sunday, Feb 10, 2008 - 12:08 AM Updated: 02:49 AM
By SUSAN HAUBENSTOCK
SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT

Richmond Shakespeare's entry in the Acts of Faith Festival, Shakespeare's comedy "Measure for Measure," offers much to chew on in the areas of morals and ethics.

The Duke of Vienna has been lax in applying stringent societal laws; he pretends to head out of town and gets his deputy Angelo, a much tougher enforcer, to take his place while he's gone. Angelo promptly condemns one Claudio to death for fornication -- a crime that has typically gone unpunished by the duke.

Claudio's sister Isabella, a novice nun, begs Angelo to let Claudio off, but deceitful Angelo is willing to do so only if Isabella sleeps with him (with Angelo, that is -- confused yet?). The duke is hanging around Vienna disguised as a friar, and when he learns of Angelo's treachery he devises a plot by which Angelo will be tricked into thinking Isabella has submitted to him. So Angelo has sex with a substitute girl, but he still demands Claudio's death. The execution is faked, the duke reveals the truth and metes out justice, and then he asks Isabella to marry him.

It's fairly complicated, morally as well as plot-wise, and Shakespeare has blended serious matters with comic ones throughout. No one is quite blameless here, though several characters are shameless, or hiding their shame.

In Richmond Shakespeare's production, director James Alexander Bond upholds the company's high standard of spoken verse and pulsing energy as realized by a terrific five-actor ensemble.

Each actor plays at least three roles, and all the characters are well-distinguished. Liz Blake plays Isabella, lovely and innocent, brave and outraged. Andrew Hamm, as Claudio, has a classic scene with her in which he begs her to sacrifice her virginity for his life. He's also perfectly tuned as hypocritical Angelo.

John Moss is amusing and animated as Lucio, Claudio's friend, and Julie Phillips is strong in several smaller roles. David White does a fine job with the role of the duke. It's a lively performance that lends heart to the production.



Thank you to Susan Haubenstock! One of the great things about doing plays with universal lighting is seeing Ms. Haubenstock's mysterious Mona Lisa smile in the audience during a show.

Matinee today at 2:30. Come out and join us!

"Style" Reviews "Henry IV, Part 1"

David Timberline's "official" review is published at long last. Not that I'm complaining about this ludicrous streak we're on of well-reviewed shows, but it seems like it's been well over a year since Style published their review earlier than week three of our four-week run.

Dave T sez (to start):



Hal-apalooza
Richmond Shakespeare’s potboiler “Henry IV, Part 1” transcends history.
by David Timberline

The scholars call Shakespeare’s “Henry IV, Part 1” a “history play,” but that classification seems way too stodgy for this mix of bawdy humor, political infighting, hand-to-hand combat and messy family dynamics.

From the moment Richmond Shakespeare’s production of this juicy classic begins, it positively crackles with energy, wit and bravado.



Go pick up Style Weekly and read the rest. It's free, for crying out loud.

P.S. I wonder how many of Dave's reader's know what "potboiler" means. It's one of those words that sounds like an insult but isn't.

Review: "Transformers."

Michael Bay + giant alien robots? It's gotta suck, right?

Wrong. Wrongwrongwrongohsowrong.

After seeing Transformers this afternoon, I really can't understand what I ever saw in Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer or Pirates of the Caribbean 3. (Spider-Man 3 was still great.) The last time I felt this elated after a movie was The Fellowship of the Ring.

Transformers may be the best Summer blockbuster ever. If you think giant transforming alien robots are cool, guess what: they are. They are so very cool.

I was expecting train wreck. I was expecting to enjoy the nostalgia and the sheer whiz-bang of seeing frickin Optimus Prime on the big screen, but to give the story a pass. No need. The story is simple but fun, the action is unprecedented, there's actual human interest in an earnest and believable performance by Shia LeBeouf, and the movie is quite funny.

It's all about adults being reminded of childlike delight; thrills, chills, spills and 50-foot-tall robots. It feels like a triumph for my entire generation.

And Peter Cullen is still the voice of Optimus Prime. Perfect.

Times-Dispatch: "The Tempest" Is "Another Triumph" for Richmond Shakespeare

Richmond Shakespeare has been blessed to often strike a chord with Richmond Times-Dispatch reviewer Susan Haubenstock. She has given us some very nice reviews. But after her review for The Tempest, I feel like we should send her flowers and chocolate.

An excerpt:



A stunning visual opens the play: sailors on a storm-tossed ship, straining against ropes that form a triangle pointing off into the distance.

Deep in the background, beyond where the lines converge, paces Prospero, powerful, self-contained, the conjurer of the storm.

But Anthony Luciano, master of play for Richmond Shakespeare Festival's "The Tempest," engages our senses even more with an onstage sound crew that produces the noises of thunder and rain while the sailors shout their distress.

Throughout, Andrew Hamm's original music punctuates and illuminates this glistening production, another triumph for this ever-inventive company.



I chose the above, not because it has my name in it, but because that last phrase, "another triumph for this ever-inventive company," is (to quote the play) the stuff dreams are made of. That's just a great quote for publicity.

I want to use this space to acknowledge the huge contribution made by Wayne Conners and Kevin Neilson, my musical partners in the show. They mask my feeble guitar playing and make the heart of the music beat. Each one of them was my first choice when looking for musicians, and they have exceeded my expectations tenfold.

Read the whole review, and come see the show before it's gone!

Richmond.com Reviews "Twelfth Night"

Who's that knucklehead in the bowling shirt eating popcorn with Frank Creasy? I'm actually starting to get a little uncomfortable with my picture being in these reviews...

"Eating it Up" by Deanna Geneva Lorianni

An excerpt:

Opening to a thoroughly packed audience of all ages at Second Presbyterian Church on Friday night, Richmond Shakespeare Theatre's performance of "Twelfth Night" is one of their best indoor performances yet. Intermixing musical accompaniment (provided mostly by actor and director of training, Andrew Hamm) with lively humor and minimal set design, the company got the whole crowd laughing throughout the entire performance.

And that's no small feat considering the play runs just over two hours and one of the players called in sick. David White (Fight Choreographer) filled in for the two roles usually played by Thomas E. Nowlin, and successfully did so even with script in hand. In fact, it wasn't until the middle of the play when I realized the little book wasn't an intended part of his character.

Comprising five actors, the troupe juggles 15 different roles, which quite often causes an actor to play two different characters in the same scene. Most of the time, their character-swapping works and provides the audience with the chance to see an actor's range of theatrical abilities.

Another reviewer likes the show, but is a bit unfair to Suzanne, who really does a marvelous job in all three of her roles, especially the Officer. At least Ms. Lorianni liked the mannequin, which Susan Haubenstock didn't.

Three shows this weekend, Friday at 8:00, Saturday at 2:00, and Saturday at 8:00. The last two weekends add Thursday 8:00 shows to that schedule. Come out and see what we've been working so hard on! This is also my last time acting for at least several months (music and directing lined up through September).

Times-Dispatch Review of "Twelfth Night"

A Hilarious, Minimalist Twelfth Night

It sure is nice when Susan Haubenstock likes you. Honestly, I was so focused on getting the show right that I didn't even notice not one but three reviewers in the house on Friday night. Style Weekly and Richmond.com reviews are forthcoming.

It has been so crazybusy the last couple weeks that I haven't had time to write anything about Twelfth Night. But those lucky enough to come for the first weekend had the rare pleasure of seeing Grant Mudge play a role he hasn't played in ten years with a week's rehearsal, as well as the entirely remarkable sight of Dave White bringing a polished, nuanced performance, book in hand, of roles he had been rehearsing for exactly two days.

Suzanne Ankrum, Liz Blake (aka Fievel Pockets, my little sister), and Frank Creasy are all pretty awesome, too. So was our long long long long-suffering director, Ms. Kate Powers, whose picture is in the encyclopedia under "fearless leader." She's also one of the best damn directors I've ever worked with.

Get well, Thomas!

Review: The Who - "Endless Wire"

I've got to get some back-burner stuff out of the way before my thoughts become completely irrelevant. Here's a bone for readers who are sick of all the NFL stuff.

The Who: Endless Wire.

First of all, this is not, as has been commonly reported by music journalists who really should know better, the first new recording by the Who since 1982. They recorded two songs for a compilation a few years ago, they recorded "Saturday Night's All Right For Fighting" for Two Rooms, and they recorded two songs for Townshend's rock opera The Iron Man.

The obvious joke here, with the recent passing of bassist John Entwistle, is to refer to this Townshend-Daltrey collaboration as The Two, and there's some truth in that. Townshend, in particular, plays an awful lot of instruments on this album, including more than a few drums, and Daltrey has been very open about his desire to sing anything Townshend-penned. But in the final analysis, this is a much more fitting "last" Who album than 1982's It's Hard.

The songs range from the sublime ("In the Ether") to the disposable ("Black Widow's Eyes") on an album that unfortunately opens with a completely forgettable track, "Fragments," which itself opens with a weak-sounding reprise of the "Baba O'Riley" opening. But this is overall not only a very good album, it's an above-average Who album, which is high praise indeed. Its introspective moments are reminiscent of the best of the underrated The Who by Numbers, and the mini-opera "Wire & Glass" which concludes the disc have moments that recall the energy and innovation of Quadrophenia.

As with the last two decades of Townshend's songwriting, even the hard rockers are intimate and confessional in nature. Most interesting is Townshend's fixation on issues of faith and religion. "Two Thousand Years" and "God Speaks of Marty Robbins" are gorgeous acoustic questions, but the album's real gem is "A Man in a Purple Dress," which castigates high-church religion with derision and affection. And the tiny little "You Stand By Me" reads as a love letter from Townshend to Daltrey, who supported him through recent allegations of child pornography (for which Townshend was eventually cleared).

Townshend's acoustic guitar playing is the best it's ever been, and he spices it up with touches of mandolin here and there. Daltrey sounds old in places, but still has that growl, and I'm pretty sure he could kick my ass all over the place. The production qualities are something of a disappointment; there's more hiss and noise on this CD than on the album I just recorded in my spare bedroom. But it all combines to reveal Townshend as a flawed, broken man, vulnerable and divided by ego and self-loathing, surety and doubt. This is what all of the best Who albums do. In all, Who fans should not be disappointed--at least once they get past that weak first track.

The Best Thing I've Read All Year: "Pride of Baghdad"

Fans of graphic fiction, go out and get yourself Pride of Baghdad, the new graphic novel by Brian K. Vaughan and Niko Henrichon. It's the most affecting piece of comic art I've read in a very long time.

Pride tells the story, based on real events, of a small group of lions who were freed from the Baghdad zoo by U.S. bombs. The four lions, unexpectedly liberated, find themselves roaming the war-torn streets of Baghdad. It is an amazing piece of work, one of those rare times in graphic fiction where writer meets artist in a perfect union, both of them combining to create a story no one else could have told nearly as well. With only cameo appearances by human characters, it is a unique piece of work, expertly creating characters that are accessible to human readers but still unmistakeably leonine in their behavior.

Please, if at all possible, buy it from a comics store, not a book store. This is one of those pieces that's going to be on "Best Graphic Novels of All Time" lists. It's also one of the only times a comic has made me cry.

Why You Should Read "Watchmen"

(I just posted this over at HCRealms, in response to the question "Why should I read Watchmen," and thought it should go here too. I haven't written about comics in a long time, after all...)

Watchmen is one of a very small handful of pieces of comic art that undeniably deserves discussion as one of the great works of 20th Century literature. Watchmen is in a very small handful of works such as Maus, The Dark Knight Returns, the Wolverine limited series, and Squadron Supreme (which deals with similar issues in a more pure-comic way) that rise above the rest.

Watchmen is that rare combination of "incredibly important" and "fun as hell to read." The only thing more awesome than reading it the first time is reading it the second time--which you will want to do the moment you turn the last page the first time.

I strongly disagree with those who suggest skipping the interstitial sections. They are essential. Watchmen shouldn't be read in one sitting; in fact, it shouldn't be read more than one chapter as a time. Read a chapter, read the interstitial material after the chapter, then take a break and do something else before moving on.

It's fun to see just how much of today's comics are essentially re-telling Watchmen over and over again. As much as I enjoy Warren Ellis, pretty much all of his pet themes come from Alan Moore, and from Watchmen in particular. Brian Michael Bendis' dialogue owes much to the conversational tone of Watchmen's un-powered superheroes. Nothing clarifies modern comic storytelling like reading Watchmen.

It's the superhero Lord of the Rings, and everything since is The Belgariad and Sword of Shanarra--pretty good books, but not exactly Tolkien.

It will change the way you look at the possibilities of what comic art can do. Watchmen is the ultimate example of how comics can do things that novels and movies can't even touch. No comic story I have ever seen mines the possibilities of comic storytelling a tenth as much as Watchmen. Every panel contributes; every word is carefully chosen; every page is essential.

It will remind you about everything you ever loved about comics. It's just effing great. Some people don't like it. I have no idea why. Watchmen is the ultimate funnybook. Drop what you're reading and start reading it now.

Go See "The Fountain," and Do It Soon.

"If you're a movie lover who despairs that big-scale filmmaking today consists of little more than a self-cannibalizing system of cliches; if you are fed up with putatively ambitious movies that turn out to sorely lack not just vision but actual brains and actual heart as well, then you need, badly, to see The Fountain, soon, and under the most optimum viewing conditions available. It may well restore your faith in the idea that a movie can take you out of the mundane and into a place of wonderment."

Thus wrote Premiere magazine's Glenn Kenny, my new favorite person on Earth. Karen and I just got back from watching Darren Aronofsky's new film, and neither one of us can remember being rendered so completely speechless by a movie in our lives. The only things I've ever seen anything like it are 2001: A Space Odyssey and The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Even those two films, masterpieces in their own right, pale in many respects in comparison to The Fountain.

You're not getting a review from me here, and I recommend you avoid reading any. Just go see this dazzling and demanding film, and see it now; it's already starting to disappear from theatres. If you wait to see it on video, you will dearly regret it.

EDIT: Having slept on it, I am even more convinced that The Fountain may be the most remarkable and beautiful film I've ever seen. Don't miss it.

EDIT: Two days later, I still can't stop thinking about it.

"Style Weekly" Reviews "Julius Caesar!"

Good review, oddly titled.

"[T]he exceptional performances of key cast members raise this 'Julius Caesar' into the realm of notable Richmond Shakespeare productions of the past."

It's a generally very positive review from David Timberline, especially considering the above concluding sentence. But the descriptive words in the title ("Slightly Shaky Caesar") imply much more negative content than the body of the review contains. It's as if I titled my Life Short Call Now review "Cockburn Finally Does Something New."

And dang, my head is huge in that picture.