New Reviews STARTING THIS WEEKEND!

Helloooooo review readers! It has been some time since my last posted review and that will never happen again. Stay tuned for my latest review for "Lincoln," directed by Steven Spielberg, starring Daniel Day Lewis, Sally Field, Tommy Lee Jones and Joseph Gordon-Levitt - just to name a few. Screenplay: Tony Kushner Film's Scheduled Release Date: November 16, 2012 La Becky Kinder's Review Release Date: November 3rd, 2012 Subscribe now!

Cal Rep Plays with Reality, Surrealism

by Becky Kinder - Originally Published May 4, 2011

“The Pool of Bethesda,” written by Allan Cubitt and directed for Cal Rep’s current production by Joanne Gordon, is an intermingling of art and science, love and loss, pain and laughter. The script, and certainly Gordon’s artistic vision of the play, asks the question not only of who has access health care, but who has access to art as well.

London surgeon, Danny, finds himself caught up in what he calls a dream, becoming immersed in William Hogarth’s painting of the same title by posing as Christ for the artist. The supporting characters of Danny’s hallucinations just happen to be the people who are most important to him in his life, though they don’t have that knowledge themselves. It is sort of like how certain people in The Wizard of Oz who are from Dorothy’s real life also pop up as other characters in Oz, but in this case we are faced with fantastical illusions with heavier topics such as fidelity and living in truth rather than fantasy.

The first act places us mainly in Danny’s hallucinations, which can leave the audience a bit detached from making any emotional connections to the characters or their relationships with each other. We are especially disconnected from fully understanding the annoyance and conviction Danny feels about his experiences within his visions. The second act brings us into the immediate “real world” story of Danny’s life and why he is having the visions we have seen him in and really begins to solidify the connections he has with his wife, sister, colleague and newfound friend.
The multimedia combinations used by Gordon in this production meld the scientific and arts worlds together even more, but is more of a means to signify such rather than an impetus to the story. Thankfully the use of video and lighting is not overwhelming and distracting to the work the production has put into the piece, and the vocal work is more than appropriate, it adds delightful touches in the ominous connections between Danny’s dreams and his reality.

Danny is skillfully played by John Prosky, especially in the second act and in his interactions with his sister (Sarah Underwood) and the wonderfully interchangeable Josh Nathan. Prosky and Nathan have some of the most touching moments in the play, and this really helps build up the inner turmoil Danny is trying to live with once their friendship begins to blossom in the face of deterioration.

Some of the accents are pretty unfortunate at times, along with the extreme melodramatic performances that are also inconsistent as a whole within certain scenes. Danny’s wife (Anna Steers) has a face to nearly match Anna Paquin, but her melodramatic performance often does not work, and her determination to play distress causes her eyes to get so bugged out that the audience giggled a little when those eyes are referred to on occasion.

The set design has a detailed simplicity and adds to the pictures Gordon creates in her staging. The costumes are top notch from head to toe, but the cancerous breast looks like an unmatched and unblended after-thought. Cal Rep’s home is currently on The Queen Mary, and though the theatre itself seems a perfect venue, the seats are only fit for the shortest of legs and, sadly, make for a physically uncomfortable experience for many.
There is a difficulty in balancing the surreal with more realistic moments in “The Pool of Bethesda,” but when the cast dives in to that pool of realism, they really shine and throw us into the emotion of these characters’ lives. This is not the play to see because it’s a requirement for your freshman elective (you’ll likely only be a distraction to those who actually want to be there), but is fine example of theatre for thought as well as entertainment.

‘Cendrillon’ Opera Not Just Another Cinderella Story

by Becky Kinder - Originally Published April 11, 2011

Opera can be unapproachable to even the most avid theatre buff, but the use of a commonly known fairy tale story such as Cinderella, even the youngest novice can find fun and appreciation in a night at the opera. The latest production of the Bob Cole Conservatory of Music here at California State University, Long Beach is “Cendrillon,” by Jules Massenet with libretto by Henri Cain.

First performed in 1899, Massenet and Cain used some well-known aspects of Perrault’s 1698 tale, but conceived of some fresh interpretations for the story. This production echoes that sentiment with its own conceptive twists of the opera under the direction of Stephanie Vlahos.

Though Vlahos is a Director-In-Residence for the conservatory and has the experience of a professional singer, her capability as a director for “Cendrillon” is delightful in theory, but not in execution. The curtain opens on several occasions to excruciatingly uneventful staging where the performers are standing or sitting and doing nothing but that. Placing an actor on a stage is not the same as blocking a story to bring it to life. Vlahos’ conceptual themes and their simplicity and post-modern funk work for the set and some of the costumes, make up, and hair, but fall flat in most of the actual direction of the performers. There is a child the story of Cinderella is being read to, and it is as though her imagination is what we see being performed on the stage, but Vlahos’ staging of the child through almost every scene becomes merely a distraction and annoyance, for there is nothing for her to do but stare at the action and eventually she gets so bored she is just rubbing her face and looking at the ceiling. The child would have been better as an undertone and periodic spice to the story, rather than such a focus as Vlahos set her up to be. The lyrics, though in French, are provided in English by supertitles above the stage, and only end up magnifying that more action should be happening, such as when the servants are suddenly nervous that their master is in the room, though he was there, down center, all along and could not be missed.

The cast was comprised of high and low points as well, though it is hard to tell if it is only that their experience is lacking or if it is also the direction. Standout performances were given in this evening performance by Zoe Scaljon (Cendrillon) and Mindi Ehrlich (Madame de la Haltiere). These women not only have amazing voices, but their acting is what really secures them as spotlight performers. Scaljon’s voice is creamy and seemingly effortless, while Ehrlich’s acting soars above the rest. The stepsisters, played by Beth Wightwick and Jessie Shulman, are a joy with their physicality at times as well, and the other leads and chorus caress the ears as well.

The set design by Frederica Nascimento is perfectly simple in Cendrillon’s home, but misses the mark in other aspects, such as the weird Fairy Godmother coach and clouds that looked like black trash bags covering foam. The costume, make up, and hair designs by Nancy Wei are also interesting and fun in some ways, but lack being more cohesive with the lyrics and feel of the music. This is very apparent during the scenes with the birds which take the place of any other fairy-like characters and are more buzzard-faced ugly things than whimsical.

I do recommend seeing this production, which runs as a double cast with matinee and evening shows, but its two and a half hour run and French lyrics, along with overly sexualized staging, make it inappropriate for the little ones who will get bored or confused. Know that Cain wrote the libretto with the Prince as a soprano, so that makes it a breeches role played by a woman. The harmonies of the Prince and Cendrillon work overall, but I miss the blending of a strong tenor that Massenet and Cain did not acheive.

Though this production has a dark tone in its costuming and paint and its production quality is lacking at times, it is, as the translated lyrics say, “embroidered in color.”

Playhouse 'Clowns' Not Humorous

by Becky Kinder - Originally Published March 8, 2011

In its second year, Alive Theatre’s “Four Clowns,” now playing at the Long Beach Playhouse, follows each of its four characters through unconventional stages of life: childhood, adolescence, adulthood and death.

Clowning, a theatrical style used in many forms, can be traditionally painted faces, more natural characterizations like Bill Irwin uses and even religious outreach groups like “Clowns for Christ.” There are classes at universities and acting schools for movement and clowning, along with entire schools dedicated to learning the intricacies necessary to be a good clown.

Though there are memorable moments, a solid foundation in clowning is missing from the performances and overall conception of “Four Clowns.” Kevin Klein (Mischievous) and Raymond Lee (Angry, especially in one of the show’s most vivid moments where he’s holding a balloon) had their funny business at times, but Alexis Jones (Sad) and, most notably, Amir Levi (Nervous) were the most developed. The cast’s song and dance scenes had their delight at times as well.

The shortcomings seem to come from the script and direction of Jeremy Aluma. Noted in the program as being created by Aluma, the cast, and Quincy Newton, the production missed the mark in its integration of clowning and realism. With a narrow view of sex, processing difficult experiences, and of verbal expression to boot, the audience is bombarded with over the top sex scenes and cussing in misplaced attempts at being what we can relate to. Instead of a satire’s commentary on emoting, society, and the human experience, the clowns are mostly playing at emotions. Certain strong points of characterizations were found when the focus was more on the simplicity of bullying and the “Whatever!” attitude of teenagers, rather than trying so hard to make scenarios funny when they just are not.

The costume and make-up designs tapped into the vein of more traditional clown styles and the funky ties and exaggerated painted expressions were fun. Pianist Mario Granville was a decent player and added atmosphere, but his hammy expressions and periodic involvement in the action were distracting and annoying.

Props were minimal and the choices of what to mime and what to actually hold were a bit confounding. The set and lighting were also minimal and though the production did not have the need for a lot, it did have the need for a clearer direction in their designs and cues at times, such as a helpful variation in lighting to discern the moments of audience participation from the action that brought the scenes into the audience.

Those who were likely friends of the actors were on top of giving suggestions when prompted, but the audience members who were not fully aware of what they were in for were left stammering or mute. The cast was allowed to improvise, it seemed throughout, and given freedom to heckle those who tried to use the restroom during the show, providing bits of laughter, though still showing the need of more training for the actors.

While waiting in the lobby, I noted how many signs were posted as a warning to the “adult content” and that the play might offend; the only thing I found offensive was that the bulk of the material wasn’t adult content at all but was repetitive and self-indulgent.

The program’s tagline states, simply: “Laughter is the Best Medicine.” I get it, that you want us to find humor in even the tough moments of life, but working for us to laugh at it rather than allowing the moments to just happen so we can laugh with the characters through their experiences are two different things. The dead air pause after each death is painful rather than meaningful, as we feel little to no emotional connection to the characters’ stories; this show needs a few prescriptions for maximum health.

One audience member remarked that the show was “too weird for her” while another left saying that she “failed to see how this was supposed to be entertaining.” Now that’s not clowning around.

Alive Theatre’s production of “Four Clowns” plays through March 19th at the Long Beach Playhouse.

Stage Review - "The Aluminum Show"

by Becky Kinder - Originally Published 03/13/2011

What some call “reminiscent of Blue Man Group, Cirque du Soleil and STOMP” is more of a scraping at the residue of those shows. “The Aluminum Show,” in its West Coast debut Saturday at The Carpenter Center, was extremely energetic but also lacking in many ways.

Created by Israeli dancer, Ilan Azriel, the troupe of dancers and puppeteers uses recovered materials from industrial factories for their set, costumes and prop pieces. What could have been an exciting show ended up being an incongruent set of ideas thrown together to create a production without a solid through line. What little story line the show had to carry us from scene to scene seemed like an after-thought.

Instead of a variety show with each scene having its own story line, “The Aluminum Show’s” story line popped up sporadically: a “mother and father” of aluminum tubes has somehow lost their little baby tube, Slinky. Instead of being able to follow each of these characters, if you will, through their adventures in search of each other, we are thrown through a series of scenes that don’t flow well or make much sense, especially all together.

The audience interaction was eaten up by delighted children in the audience, though this interaction never made sense to the staging of the show and was uneventful, overall. I think the kids reacted the way they did because they went from seeing something on stage to it being in their hands. It’s the same as fans that fawn over celebrity chewing gum; it’s something they see every day, but because it’s now touched by a performer, it’s somehow worth more. The children often fought over the props, breaking several of them in their tugging from all sides, leaving afterwards with pieces and sheets of aluminum products their parents could buy at the supermarket or party supply store. Did Azriel think we would react to the feel of aluminum the same way we did when we felt our first sting ray at Sea World?

The original music by Ivri Lider was wonderful and aided in keeping the audience in the high-energy tone the show strived for. The dancers were talented on their own, but missed the cohesive movements even their most basic choreography required, especially in their most STOMP inspired scene of playing a song with their tubes.

Each scene would have been better served by Daniel (in the goggles) and Slinky finding each other and going on a journey together to find the latter’s parents, coming across each scene as thought they’ve traveled to somewhere new, rather than it just being a new gimmick of playing with foil bits.

The large puppets the team used at times were not as magical as they should have been because they were being controlled by the people, usually without a costume change, we just saw running around in a bizarre attempt at choreography. The one time the cast did put on black shifts to work a “puppet” was ruined by their urban “moccasins” and pants bottoms peeking out from underneath.

A more focused story line would serve this production well. In the factory pillow production scene, why not have Daniel and Slinky come through this scene of people, have it be quitting time at the end of their shift, and then have the giant puppet come to life on its own?

This show suffers from too many ideas that are not truly connected, weird moments of breaking the fourth wall that don’t generally work, inconstant characters and visuals, and too much reliance on the high energy aspect to carry the show’s entertainment value.

The best moments were the prologue of rules and one (of the way too many) curtain calls with the motion capture wall at the end. Yes, it could potentially be a fun show to bring certain ages of kids to (it’s a family-friendly show, but not for the tiny ones; it’s just to scary for them and will make them cry, as one child did through most of this show), but the ticket price is too steep for the quality of show, is not really adult-friendly but there is potential lurking in the Reynolds Wrap; it’s just too half-baked.

Shiny Toy Guns rock Club Nokia

The Shiny Toy Guns perform at Club Nokia Saturday night.

Becky Kinder
Staff Writer

Published: Tuesday, May 12, 2009


Shiny Toy Guns - Becky Kinder

Shiny Toy Guns played at Club Nokia Saturday to an already amped crowd. After decent-sized sets by three other bands including The Ringers and Nico Vega — as well as one song by an unnamed and very costumed solo artist — the audience could have been all danced-and cheered-out before Shiny Toy Guns even got on stage, but that was not the case.
Opening the night at 9 p.m., The Ringers set the night’s atmosphere with high-energy and eclectic clothes — or maybe we should call certain looks costumes — fitting of the Indy/Pop/Alternative/Rock genres each of the groups that followed would also fit well into (lead singer Joe Hursley was wearing a too-small, matador-style outfit with tassels on the outer seam of each pant leg –— with no shirt in sight). Hursley was so active on stage that he was sweating enough for the whole band.
Nico Vega was the last to play before the headliners, but seemed to have had plenty of fans that were there just to see the group play — a few fans squeezed their way as close to the stage as the could and left their prime spots after Vega’s last song, never to return.
Each opening band was as equally entertaining and musically skilled as the next. I would recommend seeing any of them in concert again and will be buying at least a few of each group’s songs (if not the whole of their albums) on iTunes to promptly sweeten my iPod library.
Shiny Toy Guns opened their set with “Starts with One” amid screaming fans after 11:30 p.m., but the wait was well worth it. The energy never waned, even through their slower-tempo songs, and current lead female vocalist Sisely Treasure was fabulous to watch as she danced and rocked around the stage.
The Goth/Punk style you may attribute Shiny Toy Guns’ look with was only a portion of the style they sported at the concert — throw a preppy So-Cal-esque button-up short sleeved shirt on lead male vocalist Chad Petree along with some eye shadow and guyliner and call it a day. Treasure rocked a set of blue leggings, and a torn tee with platinum and blue razor-cut hair to top it off. Jeremy Dawson and Mikey Martin also had styled ‘dos befitting the over-all style of the band.
With recording-quality sound even through matching the energy of their audience and rocking-out instrument playing and dance moves, Shiny Toy Guns is a band not to be missed when they’re in your town. They said Saturday that they don’t come to Los Angeles often enough – I agree.

"Lycans" gives new meaning to ancient conflict

Becky Kinder
Staff Writer


Published: Tuesday, February 3, 2009

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Underworld: Rise of The Lycans was number seven in the box office last weekend

3 out of 4 Stars

Our View: A bigger budget wouldn't make this film - its script, acting, and direction carry it enough.

Summary: Love between two of a different race, and love for self, begins a war between vampires and lycans.

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Cary Elwes said in 1987's "The Princess Bride," "Rodents of unusual size? I don't think they exist." They existed in that film and they are now out of the Fire Swamp and in a theater near you in "Underworld: Rise of the Lycans," a prequel to the other two "Underworld" films. Never fear, though, these Lycans are werewolves that can still take human form. They're hideous and wonderfully icky in their flesh-tearing, human-meets-beast glory.

If you're not familiar with this particular series of films, here's a little back story: Vampires and werewolves came from the same father whose sons were bitten by a vampire and a wolf, respectively. Their knack for immortality started with their father's DNA enabling him to adapt to a plague which killed everybody else. Once bitten by the first werewolf and any thereafter, a werewolf was not able to return to their human form, just as vampires were no longer human. In the first film, we are introduced to the war between vampires and Lycans that has been fought for centuries, with only bits and pieces as to how this war began and why it has continued for so long.

In "Lycans," we learn that the vampires, in their aristocratic snobbery, tried to destroy all the werewolves from the beginning, claiming that they were mindless beasts unable to have a quality society and therefore, unworthy of existence. At one point, however, the head vampire, Viktor, imprisoned a werewolf and gave birth to Lucian, who was born in human form (don't ask me how -- this is an unfortunate hole in the story line). The mother was promptly killed and with Lucian's life spared, he was raised as a slave and favorite pet by Viktor and was the first of the Lycans, able to turn into a werewolf, but also able to return to human form. Lucian was used to create more Lycans, breading a race that could be used to work as slaves and also protect the vampires' coven during the day.

Unlike some other prequels, "Lycans" doesn't simply try to capitalize on what has previously been earned at the box office by its series' predecessors -- it actually holds its own as a film while it adds deeper, darker layers to the series. For those who have never seen any or all of the "Underworld" series, "Lycans" can be watched before or after you've seen the other two. If you're like me, you'll want to watch the first two again after seeing "Lycans" to put all the pieces together for an even clearer picture.

Though there are some down-sides to the film -- a couple of hokey visual effects and a "Clash of the Titans" quality they ran into at times or the inconsistencies between the scenes in "Lycans" that were also flash-backs in the first "Underworld" -- the script keeps a dialogue that would hold its own even without the fantasy. The actors lead you into a trance of belief that these characters really exist and they do it without the patronizing clichés that other films with vampires and werewolves usually offer.

"Lycans" is visually stunning at times, and though they could do without so much blood squirting from necks, the fight choreography and stunt work are exciting enough that even a simple fall on the ground with a blow to the back of the head made the audience vocal. The love story within the film tugs at the heart instead of being a burden, which is often difficult for action movies.

"Underworld: Rise of the Lycans" raises the question: what makes a being more humane or worthy of a high quality of life than another? The implications of the control and understanding Lucian had -- over himself and others -- cause the audience to think while being entertained, which was an unexpected surprise.

I was bitten by the "Underworld" series from the first film's release and after "Lycans," there's no turning back.

"Versus" Nightclub and The Club Didn't Win

Using the old Los Angeles Stock Exchange building, Versus Nightclub is the latest in new Hollywood hot-spots; at least that's what they're aiming for. The club boasts three levels, one of which is a super-exclusive VIP area overlooking the rest of the club that regular guests cannot really see into.
At the grand-opening Saturday, the most noteworthy celebrity guests were to include Heidi Cortez ("Sunset Tan" and Playboy), DJ Skribble and Dave Navarro, along with other so-called celebrities such as Audrina from "The Hills." Really.

The red carpet was left virtually empty, save Cortez standing aimlessly and doe-eyed — posing stiffly for the periodic photo op, her mouth gaping in an uncomfortable and overly injected smile. When other celebrities were arriving, little attention was paid to them.

The most recognizable of the bunch was David Blue ("Ugly Betty") while the others who arrived were generally or completely buzz less. One gentleman had an entourage of one passing out business cards to make sure the press knew they were important but informed us we would have to wait until the end of the night for a photo opportunity. Let me hold my breath.

For a while, the red carpet served not as an isle for photos and interviews, but as a sort of holding pen for those who had walked its short distance, and this line ended up taking most of the carpet.

The most excitement outside was found in talking with Terrance, the manager of an extra security team hired for the night. He had more personality than most of the faces to walk the red carpet. Asking a public relations rep when Navarro might arrive, my photographer and I were given an answer of "about an hour" so we decided to enter the club, only to be faced with an undisclosed delay.

The minutes passed while we were being told it would only be a moment longer, with employees scurrying back and forth. When we were finally approached by a very large member of the club's main security, we were told that the elevators were said to be in working order, though not yet inspected and approved and therefore could not be used. Considering the club's layout and that the photographer, Chris, has been in a wheelchair for over ten years — well, it put a wrench in our plans for the evening. I do not suggest a grand opening that cannot properly accommodate all of its guests. Why they did not ensure the proper inspections and certificates for their elevators before opening is an unanswered question.

They offered to carry him up the stairs and to equip him with a security guard for the night "because of [his] situation." Both were refused, the latter being patronizing and an attempt at over-compensating. We did go inside; he stayed in the lobby while I traveled upstairs to check out the festivities.

The club had pockets of people in cloisters and the rest of the club was pretty open and empty looking. None of the so-called private tables were being used, nor did they look very private, and though music was playing, nobody was dancing.

Most of the guests were not dressed appropriately for an upscale club, which Versus has tagged itself to be. Many guests arrived in light jeans and over-worn tee-shirts (some less dressy than what you would find in local bars and pubs) while others came in pastel '90s club-kid attire — uber-platform boots, pigtails and all.

I spent about an hour upstairs, taking photos and speaking with the one friendly bartender there, though she was trying too hard to publicize the hot-factors of the club. The décor is simple and uneventful in the midst of the club's smoke machines and light effects. A closer look does show the renovated Art Deco original features mixed with a light, modern flare. The space, which has a lovely streamline to its décor, would be better for the fashion shows, plays, and jazz concerts that are said to be included on the calendars to come. None of those things are found to currently be scheduled.

The club is not worth the trip out there, past the rows of homeless residents in their make-shift communities; all you will find is another club without anything new or special to offer. The only reason Chris and I stayed as long as we did was because we were offered a couple of free cocktails, no doubt to help soften the blow of Chris not being able to get upstairs. We stayed long enough to finish them but refused to take further advantage. At this point no number of free drinks would change each of the negatives of the experience of Versus Nightclub. It was generally irritating and condescending, but most of all really boring.

As a member of the press I was still considered to be working for too lowly a publication to be offered a press packet upon my check in, and was actually standing right in front of a public relations woman who tried to whisper to another that they should save them for the bigger papers. Bigger papers were never seen and there seemed to be more than enough packets for the few people there asking for them.

Considering our readers include people the club allegedly wants as guests, I wouldn't snub a small paper if I were them. In LA, you never know who you're networking with.

The only fun that was truly had was because of the company I was keeping. So grab your friends and stay local. If you want to hit up LA for a hot club, Versus Nightclub is not it. When we left at 11:30 pm, there was no sign of things picking up, no sign of Navarro and still no sign of Audrina. I think I'll live.


Versus LA Nightclub
618 S Spring Street (Los Angeles Stock Exchange Building)
Grand Opening October 25, 2008
Los Angeles, CA 90014
versusla.com

A Road Trip to Nowhere

Review - "Sex Drive"
Becky Kinder
Staff Writer
Published: Tuesday, October 21, 2008


SUMMARY: Three friends, on a road trip filled with mishaps, eventually reach the destinations they really needed to get to.

OUR VIEW: "Sex Drive" is a road trip everybody has already taken.

STARS: 1 out of 4

The latest in a long line of raunchy teen comedies is "Sex Drive." Instead of a throw-back to bawdy comedies of the past, this film seems to be attempting to cram every cliché and overly used bit from its predecessors into each scene.
When 18-year-old virgin, Ian (Josh Zuckerman) gets the green light to go and visit a girl he met online, he is encouraged by best friend Lance (Clark Duke) to steal older brother Rex's (James Marsden) Pontiac GTO to make the nine-hour drive. Throw in female — but not feminine — best friend, Felicia (Amanda Crew), and you have a road trip, destination: sex.


All sorts of shenanigans happen along the way, all formulaic and annoyingly predictable. Make a checklist of every silly, dumb, gross, potty-humor, ignorant or sexual joke you've seen in a movie or made with your friends and you will undoubtedly check most, if not every single one, off while watching this film. I like to take notes for my reviews and I was writing everything down before it happened. Everything.


Road kill that doesn't want to die, cops who are inept and brainless and more gay jokes than any person should have to endure in one movie is the mundane series of scenes you'll get with "Sex Drive." Don't forget to add a scene of diarrhea in a public restroom that they managed to add a bizarre and lame George Michael moment into as well. Each of the love stories squeezed into the script end up being misplaced and are just another additive to the same-old formulas.


Lance is the PC version to "Gossip Girl" Chuck Bass' Mac. Rex is the same super-tool jock of an older brother we've seen before; with a softer side you should see coming from the first scene he's in — though some audience members' reactions lead me to believe they never saw it coming. Crew looks bizarrely like Hannah Montana threw on a wig and decided to leave music for acting.


There were a few moments that earned my laughter, such as Rex's dream and the perfectly tasteless and cheesy themed motel rooms. The donut shop mascot costume will give you the giggles, especially when they're outside of Bob's Big Boy.


Mostly terrible actors in smaller roles are mixed with the talent of other actors wasted in the main roles, particularly Duke's. Seth Green's performance is the only wholly noteworthy one, and he admits to at least a portion of it being improvised rather than scripted. The flexibility of going off the script undoubtedly attributed to the funnier lines Green's performance lent to the film. Amish farmer Ezekiel's (Green) deadpan sarcasm may be "lost on his people," but it will leave you feeling uncomfortable for Ian while laughing into the scenes that follow.


The credits were cleverly displayed, along with the extra tid-bits of story continuation audiences look for these days. The clips of Green and extended cameos by Fall Out Boy during the credits are funnier than most of the other scenes during the movie.


If you want to see a totally expected story, stereotypical characters without anything new to offer, then head out to catch this. I suggest renting a classic like "Weird Science" or something slightly newer like "Dumb and Dumber" where you'll get a feel of the same humor without the overused after-taste.
"Sex Drive" crashed. It would have been nice to have a fresh take on this type of comedy — you know, "with a twist."

Terrorist-themed film takes a fresh approach

Review of "Traitor"
Becky Kinder

Staff Writer

STARS: 3 out of 4

OUR VIEW: A fresh approach to what could be the same-old-story of terrorists against Americans, keeping you on the edge until the end.

SUMMARY: Sometimes the only way to stay alive is to have every side want you dead.

Published: Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Updated: Wednesday, September 17, 2008

There are some generalities - some assumptions that can be made about what a film with its strongest story line running along the vein of terrorism will be like. There are expected events and topics touched upon in "Traitor," but those do not get in the way of the tension it holds you in throughout the film. What may, on the surface, seem will be the same stories or views, is given a fresh approach.

Samir Horn (Don Cheadle), while attempting to sell explosives to an Islamic terrorist group, gets caught in a raid by local authorities and a couple of FBI agents. While imprisoned in Yemen, agents Roy Clayton (Guy Pearce) and Max Archer (Neal McDonough) begin to question Horn, digging deeper into his past as a former U.S. Army Special Forces expert in explosives as well as how his beliefs as a devout Muslim link him to terrorist bombings.

Through the friendship Horn forms with fellow captive Omar (Saïd Taghmaoui), the terrorists are able to escape prison, taking Horn with them in a belief-based bond of brotherhood. This eventually leads Horn to be linked to the bombing of an American Consulate in Nice, along with being connected to top terrorist contacts in London and other countries.

But is Horn a traitor to the United States? Leading the terrorists through planning suicide-bombings and attempts at remote bombings meant to kill as many Americans as possible without having to train yet another suicide bomber, the answer would be "yes." Clayton must capture Horn before another target is hit, unaware of the other contacts both Horn and the terrorists have in the FBI.

With unsaturated colors and a grainier focus than most Hollywood films, there is a definite surveillance quality to the film, putting the audience on the side of the FBI, the terrorists, and each country's citizens all at once. Using this style, director Jeffrey Nachmanoff places us with each group, making for an even better comment on the beliefs of those terrorists who claim to take the action they do because it is God's will, almost bringing an understanding and some sympathy, though without necessarily agreeing.


The film makes no constant attack on radical Muslims. Instead, it touches on their commonality ⎯ that they can be anybody, anywhere, and that they really believe that what they're doing is morally correct because of their religious beliefs. There is also a touch on racial profiling, tastefully added to the film rather than a leading focus.

Notable performances are abundant in this film, namely from Cheadle, Pierce and Taghmaoui. Jeff Daniels is worth mentioning in his smaller role, playing his government employee more as an every-man than the cookie-cutter character that can often be portrayed by other actors.

What seems to be one of the biggest themes of "Traitor" is approached early on in the film: when your loyalties are questioned - whether religious, friendship or brotherhood - you may say you're willing to kill, but are you willing to die?

"Traitor" is filled with faith, loyalties and friendships tested and how people can use those connections to achieve almost any goal, if played right. Choices to trade in friends for what you believe is the greater good are made; where, just as in chess, you must sometimes choose to sacrifice pawns to win the game.

The House Bunny - Review by Becky Kinder

Bad casting and skimpy comedy for this ‘Bunny’

Becky Kinder
Staff Writer



Published: Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Updated: Wednesday, September 10, 2008


I know that “The House Bunny” is supposed to be funny and point out that we should all be secure with who we are, even though society may not appreciate us. I know the same women who wrote “10 Things I Hate About You” and “Legally Blonde” teamed up to pen “The House Bunny,” which should have made for an entertaining movie. I know that Anna Faris is superb when it comes to her comedic timing, delivery and expertise in giving a glazed-over stare.

What I also know is that the talent of one actress does not make a funny and well-made movie.

Expectations for this film were not especially high, but knowing it was produced under Adam Sandler’s production company, Happy Madison, creates some expectation for what I like to call a “well-made stupid comedy,” which is where films such as “Talladega Nights” and “Tommy Boy” can be classified.

“The House Bunny,” however, was not well-made...it was just stupid. Granted, I did laugh at times, but even Faris cannot carry something as poorly written, directed and acted as this film was.

The story is basic: Playboy bunny and centerfold hopeful gets kicked out of the Playboy mansion for being too old, finds socially-inept ugly ducklings to take under her wing and turn into swans, and systematically gets them laid and saves their sorority chapter at the same time. Did I mention Faris’ bunny, “Shelley Darlingson,” grew up in an orphanage and was never adopted (though the rest of the orphanage was) because she was too unattractive until blossoming as a teen just in time to be swept up by Playboy? Every story in this film is as used as Hugh Hefner’s bed must have been in the ’60s.

Some of the better moments of the film came when it seemed the cast wasn’t trying so hard. At times Emma Stone gave a performance that seemed more improvised, especially in the scene next to Faris at the foot of the Zeta house stairs. There were a few other more natural moments from a couple of the other cast members, but those got lost in the over-bearing muck that was thrown around through the rest of the film.

Over-the-top characters, such as Carrie Mae (Dana Goodman), trampled through the wrong movie, filling the screen with so many different acting styles it felt like somebody was constantly changing the channel on a TV. Director Fred Wolf didn’t stick with a clear vision and style, and seems to have simply allowed whatever he thought was funny at the time stay in the movie, regardless of how unfitting it ended up being in the final product.

A rabbit’s foot would not bring enough luck to any of the hordes of people who had cameos and cannot act. One or two sports stars or Heffner and his girlfriends - all with stiff delivery - can be forgiven, but this film is packed with scenes that would be better performed by many high school theatre departments.

Those who actually have the talent to be in a movie, such as Colin Hanks, are upstaged by the pathetic attempts of other cast members and how bad other scenes are. Even stand-up comedian Owen Benjamin, somebody one would think could pull off a small role, should never appear in a film again.

The few laughs you’ll get watching “The House Bunny” are not worth the price or the time you’ll have spent in the theatre. You could even wait to catch it once it eventually airs on a cable network for free. You wouldn’t be missing much. Personally, I think there’s a better chance you’d have more fun doing The Bunny Hop at your second cousin’s wedding.



STARS: 2 out of 4

OUR VIEW: Tired script and direction, mixed with multiple unfocused acting styles, cannot hide under Anna Faris’ talent.

SUMMARY: Social outcasts and a Playboy bunny all help each other stop trying to be anything but who they are.

All the world’s a stage at Laguna Beach pageant - Review by Becky Kinder

By Becky Kinder

Published: Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Updated: Saturday, August 23, 2008

The Pageant of the Masters celebrates its 75th anniversary in Laguna Beach

"All the world's a stage," and the players are meeting in Laguna Beach. This year The Pageant of the Masters is celebrating its 75th Anniversary with a theme of the same: "All the World's a Stage."

The pageant re-creates famous works of art in the vein of tableaux vivants, a tradition that dates back to medieval pageants and plays. There is a wealth of historical information via video and narration on the history of the tableaux as well as the history of the pageant and its creators.

With scenes representing classical and contemporary works and encompassing pieces such as paintings, porcelain figurines, and even metal sculptures, this truly is where you can find art coming to life. Using its theme, the pageant also framed its re-creations with theatrical and musical numbers.

The outdoor amphitheater's canvas is filled with the colors of the orchestra's original score, the voices of actors and singers, the slapstick of Commedia Dell'Arte players, and of course the volunteers who posed and painted the incredibly faithful re-creations of original art works.

The effort that goes into the planning of pageant and its nightly performances - from the application of makeup and costume design to the precise lighting used - is amazing. Each aspect is sculpted together for re-creations to delight even the most discriminating critic.

One of the best re-creations was Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec's oil painting entitled "At the Moulin Rouge: The Dance." The depth perspective the professionals and volunteers are able to achieve is breathtaking. "The Passing Leap," an oil by John Steuart Curry, caused a collective combination of gasps and sighs at the realization that there were real people holding the positions of the people who had once just been still brush strokes in a painting.

There were many other pieces leaving viewers in awe as to how the recreations could be so realistic, some based on how little it seemed some of the people were wearing and others based on the poses. One such piece was the recreation of the bronze "Olympic Spirit" by Edward Eyth.

The pageant of living pictures lasts roughly 90 minutes, though it could have been a few minutes shorter had they cut the awkward Can Can number, which closes out the First Act. The dancers, to be generous, shift their skirts and move their legs more than dance, with one girl on the main stage kicking about all over the stage like a fish out of water. The video footage shown during this bizarre number can be likened to riding through a tunnel in Willy Wonka's boat.

With so many beautiful re-creations, it's difficult to choose only a few as noteworthy. During the show - and in the purchasable collective program - the behind-the-scenes look we are given of how the production is put together does not take away from that beauty. Many aspects of the pageant assist in creating a greater appreciation and respect for artwork of all kinds.

Arriving at the pageant an hour or more early is recommended to give you at least a little time to enjoy the outdoor art gallery, which features a wide range of works by local artists. Many pieces are available for purchase, but know that original and one-of-a-kind pieces often mean price tags that come with heavy brush strokes. If you're not interested in the gallery, you can still use the extra time to tackle the restroom lines, sip a glass of merlot, or grab a caffeine jolt from the coffee stand. Your ticket from the pageant also is a season pass to the art and events the Festival of Arts has to offer.

The 75th Anniversary season of the Pageant of the Masters' "All the World's a Stage" is a work of art in and of itself that you won't want to miss.

Information:
Performances run nightly through August 30. Tickets, though most nights are already sold out, range from $15 to $150. The theatre and festival are located at 650 Laguna Canyon Rd. Laguna Beach, CA 92651. Tickets can be purchased at (800) 487-3378 or online at www.lagunafestivalofarts.org

Sunset Strip Music Festival takes over Hollywood

Becky Kinder

Staff writer

Date: Friday, July 4, 2008
..

Photo Courtesy of Becky Kinder

Photo Courtesy of Becky Kinder

Celebrities, stories of being discovered, and stories of being high — what more do you expect from a festival in Hollywood, let alone on the Sunset Strip?

More to honor the music industry icons that founded and have owned some of the most well-known venues on Sunset would be nice.

Opening night of the Sunset Strip Music Festival began on Thursday at the House of Blues with a tribute, hosted by Mark McGrath, to little-known Sunset Strip celebrities, Lou Adler, Mario Maglieri and Elmer Valentine. Two familiar celebrities, Cheech & Chong, were together again to honor the men, as well as Slash and Michelle Phillips.

The tribute had too much talk about topics Sunset is notorious for: partying and drug and alcohol use. It could have mentioned more about the festival's honorees and their venues.

Following the tribute, Thursday's lineup began with Camper Van Beethoven, who even admitted to not knowing what a song meant because they were, "very, very high when (they) wrote it." Ugh. Overall, their performance was enjoyable, with sounds of a fiddle adding a pop of energy, as did some of the band members' movements while playing.

Best known for the 1990s hit song "Runaway Train," Soul Asylum is an example of the past having a future on Sunset and in the music industry. Visually they were quiet entertaining with a presentational style performance. Their sound, particularly the voice of lead singer Dave Pirner, was record-quality. They haven't lost their 1990s vibe or left out the new century, and after an eight-year hiatus they may be better than ever.

Everclear closed the night with a luminary performance, playing well-known hits like "Father of Mine." The audience was noticeably pleased with their set in its entirety, dancing and jumping to the beat of each song. It was a shame to not be able to see them play a full-length show.

Godhead and Hot Hot Heat were two of the bands playing Friday night, showing the array of scheduled artists. The Cat Club, House of Blues, Key Club, The Roxy Theatre, Viper Room and Whisky A-Go-Go have a united interest in promoting the experience of music on the Sunset Strip. It's needed, considering a venue like the Whisky was once thought a highlight of Sunset is now said by some to be in decline. With a modern flare outlining the musical history of Sunset, the festival is sure to bring in more and more fans every year, surging a new life into each venue.

Wasted Space was an all-ages event that ran Saturday afternoon and into the evening and was broadcast live on 103.1 FM. It closed before the main venue's events began. Saturday night included Mickey Avalon, who played to a severely packed (and seemingly hazardous) crowd at the Key Club. His performance was just boring and sad. One girl who had previously liked his music said that she lost her taste for him after seeing him live.

The only noteworthy performance on Saturday was that of a band playing covers: Starf**kers. Though their name is not my favorite, they played some really great songs, including some classic rock, and did so with their own style at times.

As the festival grows, the quality and variety of artists will grow, too. Packed with too many bands at too many venues to attend it all, there is something for every one at the Sunset Strip Music Festival, which was filled with a lot of fun.

‘Sex and the City’ leaves viewers wanting more

‘SATC’ is realistic, heartbreaking, and humor blended into one delicious cocktail.

Becky Kinder

Date: Friday, June 6, 2008

Photo Courtesy of New Line Cinema

Since the HBO series’ close in 2004, there have been talks of a film, muddled with rumors as to why it would never happen. Eventually the feature film of “Sex and the City” began production, dispelling the rumors of billing or salary disputes as cause for delay, and creating frenzy on the streets of New York during filming. What had the fabulous four gals been up to all this time and what would happen next?


Even if you’ve never seen an episode, a montage from the series is implanted into the title, catching you up well enough to follow the film as a “SATC” virgin. For the rest of us, it has been too long and that feeling lingers in the first few scenes of the movie. We join the cast five years after the series finale: Miranda is still in Brooklyn with Brady who is now five, Carrie has written two more books, Charlotte’s adopted baby is now about four years old, and Samantha (brace yourselves) isn’t even living in New York anymore.
The film continues to touch on the realities of life - women and men, single or married alike. Carrie is described as “The Last Single Gal” simply because she is forty and it’s still socially unacceptable that she has never been married. Samantha and Miranda begin to feel that they cannot bend any further for the men they love, and Charlotte’s perfect life begins to scare her.


Written with the same wit and heart as the series, it is easy to relate to the women and men of “Sex and the City.” Michael Patrick King writes realistic scenarios that still leave the audience wanting a fairy-tale ending of happily ever after, no matter what bumps or jolts along the path there are.


Jennifer Hudson may have her moments but was miscast as Carrie’s assistant, giving a stiff performance overall. Most of the other actors are superb and pick up their characters right where they left off. Standout performances are given by Sarah Jessica Parker and Kristin Davis, who both connect fully to the high emotion certain scenes call for, grabbing the viewer into those moments as well.


Though the film can sometimes have a sense of heightened reality, the actors sell the campy scenes well, connecting to those of us who have lived through challenging moments and found the humor in them.


The fashion is abundant, we see Parker in about five different looks in the opening sequence alone, as are the labels. There is plenty of sex, of course, and with the soft-core style scenes running rampant throughout, it’s hard to believe that it’s only rated R.


Loose ends are tied, it’s true, but I am still left wanting “Sex and the City” to never end. This is a love letter to friends and lovers - to you and me.
And as this single gal walked out of the theatre alone, I couldn’t help but wonder…who says I can’t have it all?

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