Don't Stay Home Tonight

Seriously. You can get someone to Tivo LOST. There is too much great live music going on!

First, head to Slowtrain for French Quarter.

Then, choose one of three options:
SLAMMys Acoustic @ Hog Wallow
Wendy Ohlwiler (9:30)
Stacey Board (10:15)
Eliza Wren & The Jewel Thieves (11:15)
Dead Horse Point (12:15)

SLAMMys Acoustic @ Mo's Bar & Grill
James Miska (9:30)
Chaz Prymek (10:15)
Chanticleer (11:15)
Grizzly Prospector (12:15)

Tolchock Trio, No Age, Liars @ Urban Lounge
action starts promptly at 10 p.m.
no kidding
no excuses (if Angus Andrews can defy doctor's orders and perform with a seriously tweaked back, you can make it down to cheer him on)

GET OUT THERE! Report back tomorrow.

(Jamie Gadette)

Flag Bashing

[Church/State] Gordon B. Hinckley appears to have been a decent, God-fearing man. And that has nothing to do with the fact that the American flag in Utah should not be flying at half-staff in his honor.

It may seem otherwise, considering the way Old Glory is used as a barometer for any sort of local tragedy, but there are actually Federal guidelines for this sort of thing. The governor of a state may, in fact, order American flags to fly at half-staff, but only under very specific circumstances. And the death of a religious leader -- I feel the need to re-emphasize this, even in Utah: a RELIGIOUS leader -- does not qualify.

Title 4 of the U.S. code spells it all out, and section 7m authorizes a governor to make such an order "upon the death of a present or former official of the government of the state, or the death of a member of the Armed Forces from that state who dies while serving on active duty" (hat tip to USAHistory.org). The head of the LDS Church may be a de facto political figure in Utah, but we can all mourn without bringing the flag into it. (Scott Renshaw)

KRCL Update: Get Ready for Baby Boom Radio

[Focus Group Hell] A consultant hired by KRCL 90.9 FM presented findings of his focus group research to the station’s board of directors last night (see City Weekly's Jan. 31 cover). The upshot: Focus groups really like listening to the Beatles, Stones, Doors, Dylan and Hendrix.

The KRCL focus groups can’t stand indie (“too crazy"), or Americana (too “twangy”). They really hate black music. (Those rap people use bad words.)

Babs De Lay, one of the KRCL’s volunteer programmers who attended the board meeting at Horizonte, wanted to know if the consultant had asked any black people?

The consultant’s response: How many minorities, are there really in the Salt Lake valley? (That brought grumbling from some at the back of the room, considering KRCL has for years been telling granting agencies that serving Utah’s minority communities was the reason for its existence.)

It’s all a numbers game, Peter Dominowski, principal of Market Trends Research, told volunteers and the board: Don’t get all high and mighty thinking you are providing some special service.

“Public service equals audience. They are synonymous,” he said. “Getting people to listen is the mission.”

Those who hoped focus groups of KRCL listeners would behave any differently than focus groups anytime, anywhere, were sorely disappointed. The pinheads who participate in focus groups said what they always say:

They want music that is “comfortable and familiar.” Music that is “appropriate” to listen to at work; that’s “uplifting and calming.” They don’t like to be challenged, or “work too hard” listening to the radio. As one focus group participant put it: “Different kinds of music, I just don’t like them.”

Focus groupies do like to hear the same songs over and over again. People don’t form emotional attachments to music, or a music station, without repetition, said Dominowski. And those emotional attachments are what make listeners contribute to fund drives.

KRCL should “adapt” techniques used by commercial stations. It should play “time tested artists,” and avoid “stressful,” “odd” or “polarizing” music during primetime, said Dominowski, who has been consulting public radio since 1985, providing focus group magic to more than 100 stations in the past two years.

Dominowski knows what the people want, because, with KRCL’s program director, he played music to six focus groups of 10 people each in late November. All participants were KRCL listeners. Two groups said KRCL was their favorite station. The other four were made up of people who sometimes listened to KRCL, but liked other stations better.

The guinea pigs were played five different two-and-a-half-minute music mixes, then asked to rate the music and give their thoughts.

Focus groups weren’t played any blues, jazz, or R&B. Those music types had already been excluded by analysis of Arbitron data measuring KRCL’s historic listener numbers.

• The “heritage rock” mix of Beatles et al. had the broadest appeal across age and gender lines. (“All bands that I know,” said a focus groupie. “Felt like an old friend.”)
  
• The Americana mix (including Lyle Lovett and Alison Krauss) got the thumbs down.
  
• The indie mix (including Tegan and Sara and TV on the Radio) was “not uplifting” said focus groupies, who somehow were scared by the poppy The Thermals.
  
• Older listeners hated the “urban contemporary” mix including M.I.A. and The Roots.
  
• On the other hand, the “modern adult contemporary” mix (including Josh Ritter and Feist) was “well accepted.”

The consultant’s bottom line: KRCL should play a mix of “heritage rock” and “modern adult contemporary.” In the future, the difference between KRCL and the oldies station will be that KRCL will play the B sides.

Dominowski said the sound would be like (all together now) WXPN in Philadelphia. That just happens to be the direction station management was hinting at more than one year before the consultant ever set foot in Salt Lake City.

Much of Wednesday’s presentation to the board was made up of bar graphs segmenting KRCL’s listeners in categories like “loyalty by half hour.” Several volunteers noted that, according to the Arbitron charts, KRCL’s most successful current programs were playing exactly the types of music that would be banished from daytime in the proposed format switch. ("That's half of what we play," one said.) Currently KRCL's days from 9 a.m. to 12 p.m. have among the highest listener “loyalty.”

But the consultant said people tuning into today’s popular KRCL programs were “fringe” listeners who listened only to a few programs and would never become “loyal.”

In addition to the recommended format change (KRCL should be all-music “minimally” from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. weekdays), the consultant recommended KRCL hire paid programmers.

Also, that KRCL’s music director program all music that is played during the days. No more having “inconsistent” DJs picking the music that goes out over the air.

Formally, KRCL’s board of directors won’t vote on the recommendations until Feb. 7, two days after a scheduled meeting of volunteers to discuss the proposal. But in fact the train has left the station. KRCL is already advertising for a new music director. Volunteer daytime station DJs were given their walking papers two weeks ago. It now appears that station directors agreed to hire paid DJs sometime this summer when KRCL signed a contract with the Corporation with Public Broadcasting, the agency paying for the station makeover.

All but lost in the general confusion and hubbub of the consultant’s presentation Wednesday was one of the his last recommendations: “Weekend primetime is just as important,” read the phrase projected on the wall.

Meaning that KRCL’s remaining volunteer DJs—the weekenders who thought they’d been saved in the switchover—may want to start getting nervous. (Ted McDonough)

Holy C.O.D.!

[Thursday Quiz] Each answer is the name of a religious leader. You are given a brief description and the cause of his or her death.

1. Founded Christianity; crucifixion. [Answer]
2. First Latter-day Saint prophet; gunshot wounds. [Answer]
3. Sci-fi author; stroke. [Answer]
4. Translated the Bible into German; heart attack. [Answer]
5. Thelemic author of The Book of the Law; respiratory infection [Answer]
6. Barely became the first Christian Roman emperor; prolonged illness. [Answer]
7. Christian Science founder; pneumonia. [Answer]
8. Bisexual founder of Wicca; lung cancer. [Answer]
9. Indian prince who achieved Nirvana; mushroom poisoning [Answer]
10. Islamic prophet; head pains [Answer]
11. Jewish prophet; died in Jordan on Mt. Nebo [Answer]
12. First Mormon Utah governor; cholera [Answer]

(Brandon Burt)

Obamamania

Who cares which candidate The New York Times endorses, or whose ship Giuliani jumps to? The celebrity endorsement to end all celebrity endorsements is now in.

Just take your vitamins, say your prayers and lay down your vote for the Barack-ster, brother. (Scott Renshaw)

A Day of Respect, and of Political Temptation

This Saturday the streets of Salt Lake City stand to be choked with thousands of people seeking to pay their respects to the late President Gordon B. Hinckley. Members of the LDS faith will undoubtedly make pilgrimages from around the world if they can afford it, to pay homage to their departed prophet, this will include, media has told us, Mitt Romney.

Now it's hard to say when politics stop when a candidate is on the campaign trail. Is the trail something they ever step off of? One may never really know, but if a candidate can step off the trail that doesn't mean what they do off the trail won't have political consequences on the trail.

There's nothing to suggest that Mitt isn't sincere in his wish to pay respects, or anything to indicate that he will try and politically capitalize on the event for publicity. What is a potential concern is the temptation Romney might face to take advantage of the time in Utah to hit up old fundraising acquaintances for some much needed cash.

An interesting analysis pointed out that Romney is at the critical funding stage where carving a share of Super Tuesday delegates will mean dipping into personal reserves if he wants to be competitive with Huckabee in the south and McCain in the northeast. Now the question would be, will Romney who is certain to come into contact with former Olympic planners, as well as other prominent LDS businessmen who have in the past contributed to his campaign at the services Saturday, make any side trips? Or even really accept donations that day?

It's an incredibly risky proposition, and one to worry about. All the donors and resources may converge effortlessly in Salt Lake City for Romney but the potential backlash for even accepting a penny on the day of the funeral of a prophet could be devastating-- if word got out. We shall just have to wait and see...(Eric S. Peterson)

Annie Get Your Gun

[Legislature] It's unclear whether he is preparing for Armageddon, or the coming class wars in which God-fearing men will have to protect their storehouses from marauding bands of poor people. Whichever, Utah Sen. Mark Madsen, R-Lehi, has a proposal for the 2008 Utah Legislature some wags have dubbed the "Annie Get Your Gun Bill."

According to provisions of Madsen’s S.B 157, every man, woman and child will be able to carry a gun on the streets during a “declared state of emergency.” No policeman, mayor, or city council could confiscate a gun, or, in fact, do anything to stop gun owners from “the lawful possession, transfer, sale, transport, storage, display or use of a firearm or ammunition.” Utah’s governor would be specifically barred from interfering with guns. And anyone who had their weapon confiscated could sue.

Madson is sponsoring another bill this legislative session with the suggestive title, “Protection of Constitutionally Guaranteed Activities in Certain Private Venues.” Unfortunately, the bill on closer inspection also turns out to be gun related. The measure would force private employers to allow employees to bring guns with them to work, as long as the guns were properly stowed in cars.

Readers may recall Madsen as one of a group of gun-toting lawmakers who, this summer, had to unholster and secure weapons strapped to their bodies during the middle of what was supposed to be an educational bus tour of Davis County. (Ted McDonough)

Hip Hop Don't Stop

[Local Music] So we've gotten a lot of heat recently over our apparent loose grasp on Salt Lake City hip hop. The response has mostly been of the "you like such and such band therefore you know nothing about hip hop" to the more thoughtful "Suck it City Weekly." Right. Not very helpful. Perhaps you could enlighten us: Who are you absolutely loving right now? Who deserves some attention in the paper? Oh, and Mugshots, I'm waiting for you to come down to CW headquarters. The invite is still open. (Jamie Gadette)

And You Thought Her Dancing Was Depressing...

[TV] Word is out that Marie Osmond has danced her way into an upcoming, nationally syndicated day time talk show. She will be carving out a day time niche to help make the afternoons fun and uplifting-- good news for Prozac'd out Utah county housewives and the unemployed alike.

Rich Colbert, of Program Partners who signed Osmond is quoted in a recent article as picking Osmond because "she is divorced, a single Mom and suffered from post-partum depression, Colbert said Osmond is “the voice of American women today.”

But don't cancel the Zoloft prescription yet folks, the syndicated series Marie won't be starting until fall of 2009, but when it does, it's sure to be your daytime prescription for heartfelt, yet wholesomely zany girl-talk (with possible dancing!!) (Eric S. Peterson)

Spite on the Hill

[Utah Legislature] It's time again for an ugly bill pushed by ugly people who have little regard for humanity.

All together now: Spite makes right!

Those who did the right thing by rejecting House Bill 241: Reps. Holdaway; Gowans; Moss; Shurtliff; and Wheatley.

As for the bigots in the majority on the committee? Well, somebody keeps electing them. (Holly Mullen)

El SLAMMys?

[Local Music] As of this morning, we weren't aware of a SLAMMys Mariachi showcase, but who are we to question Burt's Tiki Lounge?

(Bill Frost)

Think You're Having A Bad Day?

[Downer News] Our country might be sliding into a recession, but things could be worse. I bring you another installment of The World Is Bigger Than You Are. Here's a sobering reminder of how scary things can really get. (Jamie Gadette)

Dead Zephyr: Week 220

[Downtown Rising] Salt Lake City's Zephyr Club has been closed since Oct. 31, 2003; no activity in the space since ...

(Bill Frost)

The GBH Conspiracy

[News] Last night, The Colbert Report exposed the grand conspiracy behind the "untimely death" of LDS Church president Gordon B. Hinckley. Remember, he did it, not us ...



(Bill Frost)

SLAMMys Week 3: Come On Feel the Noise, and Ambient Bliss

[Local Music] Ambient experimental music certainly isn't for everyone, but I'm a Twin Peaks watchin' William S. Burroughs readin' gal who has always had a taste for the stranger things in life.

So, you can imagine my off the hook jubilation when the Ambient Rock and Noise SLAMMys showcases fell on the same weekend.

Friday night, I headed to Liquid Joe's to check out I Hear Sirens, Our Time in Space, and DulceSky. I was absolutely impressed by the respectful, attentive Liquid Joe's audience. It's so refreshing to attend a show populated by people there to listen.

I Hear Sirens played first, and polished off an impressive instrumental set that was met with warm applause and lots of love. It’s always gratifying to see a vocal-less band with a solid fan base.

My personal favorite was Our Time In Space. They’re currently working on some new, more high octane material that they debuted on Friday night. OTIS never cease to amaze me because they’ve mastered a certain straight-up rock & roll fierceness with ambient underpinnings. I would highly recommend their live show.

DulceSky played last, and their darker, more moody brand of ambient rock never fails to mesmerize an audience.

On Friday Night, I felt like the animated head with the glowing red sinuses from the Tylenol Cold and Sinus commercial, but the Ambient Rock showcase was certainly worth while, so I’m glad I attended.

On Saturday, I STILL felt like the animated head with glowing red sinuses from the Tylenol Cold And Sinus commercial, but that didn’t stop me from attending the SLAMMys Noise Showcase at Red Light Books.

“And what’s the appeal of noise?” asks 99.9% of the population…

I will readily admit that experimental music lacks universal appeal. But I will say if you’re willing to give noise a chance, you’d be amazed at what it does for your mind and senses.

15 minutes of solid drone always clears my mind and re-sensitizes me to the nuances of the world.

Tenants of Balthazar’s Castle, Palace of Buddies, I Hate Girls With Bruises, Yeti, Agape, and Ih86335 (that’s “I hate bees,” people) all played solid sets to a respectful, attentive crowd in the cozy basement of Red Light Books which resembles the cave where the Fraggles live (sparkly ceiling and all...)

It’s always comforting to know that you’re not the only Twin Peaks watchin’, William S. Burroughs readin’ noise lovin’ gal in town. (Jenny Poplar)

Sundance: Thursday Night Freeze-a-thon

[Fest Music] Dear reader, I understand that blogging is supposed to be an instantaneous form of communication. So, please forgive me for the absurd gap between the time the events detailed in this blog actually happened, and the time it took me to post this account.

Thanks to the fates conspiring against me, I only made it up to Park City once during Sundance. And I didn't get to see Patti Smith or Neil Young. I froze my ASS off and paid $20 to park my car. But it was still fun.

Despite going up early last Thursday, and wielding a pass, I didn't get into the Star bar AT ALL. That's okay. The Star Bar is like an underground prison with creepy red lighting. I waited in line for almost 4 hours in a snowstorm to see Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young and they didn't even end up playing.

I did have some CHOICE celebrity sightings while I was waiting in that never ending line, being pelted with snow.

If I were an ethic-less celebrity gossip journalist, I would have received a promotion. I guess I'm crossing the line by posting this blog.

Sigh....

I saw a very grizzled, angry looking Alec Baldwin (the years have not been kind to him, friends) carrying a mystery baby. The devil on my shoulder told me to snap a picture and sell it to the National Enquirer, but the angel (who always wins) said "naw, that poor man has suffered enough... let him walk by in peace with his secret love child."

Next I spotted British actor David Thewlis chatting away on his cell phone. I've seen him in many films and I think he's an incredible actor. He's quite striking in person.

The BEST (hint of sarcasm) was a visibly inebriated David Crosby in an ankle-length brown fur coat and hat walking against traffic in the middle of the street with a dazed expression on his face. Eventually, a team of handlers got a hold of him, and I saw them escort him in the other direction.

In all fairness, perhaps David Crosby has dementia. Isn’t that sad when the best case scenario is dementia?

Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young were SUPPOSED to play the Star Bar, but they canceled at the last minute. The door guy said it was because they "couldn't make it up the canyon," (bullshit!!!) but I think the real story is that Jolly Old Saint Lit (that would be David Crosby) got totally shit housed and the rest of the band decided not to go on without him. Apparently Neil Young played guitar for one song and Graham Nash sang backup vocals with a fellow named Josh Hisle. Stephen Stills was MIA.

Oh, David Crosby!!! You’re breaking my heart!!! I love your music, I love your voice... but after 35 years, AND a liver transplant can't you get yourself together and sober up? You’re not going to get another liver. Poor David. I think he needs a little help from Dr. Drew.

My Thursday night wasn’t a total bust. I ended up seeing an excellent Bloodshot Records alt-country band called Ha Ha Tonka on the Main Stage. It was frightfully cold (the Main Stage is OUTSIDE at NIGHT), but I’ve never attended a show with a square-dancing pit (!), so I’m glad I braved the weather.

I will say that the media often romanticizes events like Sundance. I PROMISE you... You will ALWAYS have more fun attending small shows and parties with cool, interesting, funny, INTELLIGENT people who you KNOW, friends who you care about, than all of those industry ass clowns had @ Harry O's all festival long. Keep that in mind next time you watch TMZ... (Jenny Poplar)

Sundance Gone, But Good Documentaries Still in Town

[Post Fest] The sun has officially set on Sundance, but that doesn't mean you won't be able to watch a good documentary or two until next year.

The Salt Lake Film Society is still pumping out relevant and though-provoking films for free right here in town.

Tonight at the Downtown library there will be a screening of the award winning documentary A Walk to Beautiful which follows five Ethiopian women born with physical disfigurements in their struggle for acceptance in their own communities. The screening will be tonight Mon. Jan 28 at the City Library auditorium at 7:oo pm. It will include a discussion with local activists as well as some of the producers of the film.

There will be another feelgood documentary at the city library this Wednesday at 6:30 pm, when the movie Freedom from the Abuse of Power: Torture and Unlawful Imprisonment is shown. This one is a snapshot of our country's recent unpleasantness with secret prisons and extraordinary rendition. University of Utah Professor Tim Chambless will lead a discussion on the legality and ethics of torture in the world, after the movie.

Sure they might not be the kind of movies your looking for if you're in a Weekend at Bernie's kinda mood, but if you are feeling like you want to grapple with some of the most challenging issues of our times then they are well worth checking out, and you don't have to drive to Park City. (Eric S. Peterson)

Hinckley: Is There a Complete Picture?

[Obit Wars] Over at The Salt Lake Tribune, Salt Lake Crawler Glen Warchol blogs nice today about LDS Church President Gordon B. Hinckley, who died last night at the age of 97. Warchol urges people to go easy on the Mormon-bashing some might be inclined to share, if for no other reason than to exemplify good manners.

What Warchol may not have expected was the back and forth between posters, who let loose with rants about what they suspect is the Trib's censorship of online comments related to Hinckley. Anonymous posters to the Crawler seem fairly certain the Trib online editors are killing criticisms of the late prophet, and they are none too happy about it.

(This isn't the first time posters to the Trib's blogs and comment boards have suspected editors fiddle with their free speech. Go here to be refreshed on a similar issue last week.)

I'm not endorsing a string of Hinckley and/or church criticism, by any means. This is a solemn moment, Hinckley was a giant among world religious leaders and a fine quipster to boot. But the questions raised about the "no warts" version of the Hinckley obituaries running in Utah newspapers and tributes running on all TV stations do give one pause. The best obituaries in newspaper lore are those that give a full picture of a person's life--good, bad, ugly. Since we are all human on this planet, it's always nice to see a realistic, if adequately respectful, obituary of the celebrities among us.

So, do this: Read the Utah versions and updates of the Hinckley tributes and then try these:

The New York Times Hinckley obit today offers a bit more reason.

And here is a rather interesting NYT piece, written in 1994 (one year before Hinckley took the reigns from church President Ezra Taft Benson). Here, Hinckley talks about why members who speak out against church policy, as several BYU scholars did 11 years ago and were abruptly fired, do so at their own peril. It's an intriguing look at the man's mettle before he became the worldwide leader of a church that cares very deeply about its public image. (Holly Mullen)

Where Were You When Gordon B. Hinckley Died?

[Local Culture] The phone rang last night just after dinner finished around 8 p.m. I was at a friend's house in Midvale. They're devout Mormon. The father, who'd just made his own pasta, is a longstanding member of his ward's Bishopric.

After he answered the phone, he said, "You're kidding." He hung up.

"President Hinckley's dead."

His wife's jaw dropped.

I was looking at Jessica, their 17-year-old daughter, who had her back to me.

She's about to attend BYU as an English major. I'd tutored her a few years ago in writing and was waiting for her to read some of her poems aloud. As a lapsed-Protestant, new to this country, Jessica was my introduction to Mormon folk. I've long admired her passion for a religion I confess I don't understand. What I have come to understand though is, as Harold Bloom said, the LDS faith is uniquely American.

As I watched her back and over her shoulder saw her mother's expression as she stared at her daughter's face, I could feel all of Jessica's pain radiating from her. Her sense of loss was palpable. Her back didn't move, nor her head. She was so rigid it made me ache to watch her. Finally, I turned away.

Where were you when you heard the news? How did you react? Or did it even register? (Stephen Dark)

Turn and Face the Strain

[Election 2008] Somebody owes David Bowie an apology ...



(Bill Frost)

SLAMMys Week 3: Indie Rock at Urban Lounge

[Local Music] Even though Sundance is done, I believe we, as a city, can persevere.

As Sundance died its quiet death on Saturday night (much to the passivity of everyone involved), the rest of Salt Lake went on living.

After missing out on a promising Friday night of SLAMMys performances (due to a disappointing Sundance screening of Choke) I made it my duty to catch the indie rock showcase at Urban Lounge. And even though I have yet to be disappointed by a Slammy performance, Saturday night proved to be the best so far.

The Lionelle earned some deserved props for putting on a superb first act. Both Cavedoll (above) and Let's Become Actors decreed the prowess of the new(ish) band, and I couldn't agree more. Check out their album Oh! The Company That We Keep! and you'll agree with me that it's the type of music that scares the hell out of you. Seeing them live was no different.

Let's Become Actors is that band that you want hate: good-looking dudes who play catchy tunes. I probably would've liked them more if the GF didn't want to do them so bad.

Cavedoll had color-coordination, rope lights and a projector... even if they didn't play so well, I would've been a fan (because I'm easily amused by rope lights). The six-piece gave the night some much-needed sass with their mix of pop and electro-dance, which filled the previously-empty dance floor. Extra kudos to drummer Jamison Wilkins, who did a fantastic job of standing out amidst a stage of dominant and sexy performers (sheesh, I don't wanna get all adolescent-boy on you, but I haven't tried as hard to catch eyes with a female performer since I saw the Yeah Yeah Yeahs a couple years ago). Drummers rarely get their due, and Wilkins was incredibly tight. (Ryan Bradford)

Sundance: The Awards are In, and That's a Wrap

[Film Fest] Tomorrow is the last official day of the festival, but tonight's awards ceremony kind marks the de facto end. And the winners are:

American Dramatic:
Grand Jury Prize: Frozen River
Audience Award: The Wackness
Directing: Lance Hammer, Ballast
Waldo Salt Screenwriting: Alex Rivera and David Riker, Sleep Dealer
Cinematography: Lol Crawley, Ballast
Special Jury Prize for Spirit of Independence: Anywhere, U.S.A.
Special Jury Prize for Ensemble Cast: Choke

American Documentary:
Grand Jury Prize: Trouble the Water
Audience Award: Fields of Fuel
Directing: Nanette Burstein, American Teen
Editing: Joe Bini, Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired
Cinematography: Phillip Hunt and Steven Sebring, Patti Smith: Dream of Life
Special Jury Prize: Greatest Silence: Rape in the Congo

World Cinema Dramatic:
Grand Jury Prize: King of Ping Pong
Audience Award: Captain Abu Raed
Directing: Anna Melikyan, Mermaid
Cinematography: Askild Vik Edvardsen, King of Ping Pong
Special Jury Prize: Ernesto Contreras, Blue Eyelids

World Cinema Documentary:
Grand Jury Prize: Man on Wire
Audience Award: Man on Wire
Directing: Nino Kirtadze, Durakovo: Village of Fools
Cinematography: al Massad, Recycle

And with that, my festival comes to an end. Thanks for following along, and we'll see you again next January. (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance: What's So Funny?

[Film Fest] It's strange that it has taken so long to realize, but I think I laugh more at Sundance than I do at movies the rest of the year. And a lot of it is even intentional.

I may not be the idea audience for some types of Sundance fare – needlessly provocative psychodramas, minimalist bummers – but the comedies tend to fall right into my wheelhouse. They're smarter than most, and less likely to be made for the sense of humor of a 12-year-old. Comedy for an actual adult doesn't come around nearly often enough.

One of my favorite recent Sundance comedies, The Puffy Chair, came from the sibling team of Mark and Jay Duplass a couple of years ago. Their new effort, Baghead, continues their participation in the lower-than-low-key aesthetic dubbed “mumblecore” with the story of four under-employed L.A. actors who decide to head for a mountain cabin and write a script to showcase their abilities. After a pair of hilarious early sequences – perfect Sundance fare in their parodies both of festival films and the subsequent parties – the film settles into a combination of amusing relationship observation and awkward detour into scary territory. The brothers Duplass may be into genre movies, but trying to insert half of one into their comedy doesn’t quite work.

French writer-director Samuel Benchetrit also clearly adores genre movies, but of a different type. His winning black-and-white comedy I Always Wanted to Be a Gangster presents four stories of people enthralled by the romantic allure of crime, but butting up against the realities of their actions. Benchetrit gets a lot of mileage out of bungled attempts at hold-ups and kidnappings, but he also finds unexpected heart in recognizing the connection between criminality and a search for something missing in people’s lives. It’s an uncommon mix of terrific slapstick and effective character humor.

Choke tries to achieve the same balance, but not to the same effect. Actor Clark Gregg adapts the Chuck Palahniuk novel about a messed-up sex addict (Sam Rockwell) who finds benefactors by pretending to choke in upscale restaurants. Gregg does a fine job with some of the edgier material, and Rockwell is becoming one of the most versatile actors that no one quite seems to appreciate. But as drop-dead hilarious as the film is at times, it also aims for a sentimental streak that doesn’t quite feel true to the author’s style. I only made it through the first half of the book Choke a few years ago, but if he ends his book the way Gregg ends his movie, the dude has softened up plenty since Fight Club. I laughed, I didn’t cry … and I wouldn’t have minded doing even more laughing. (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance For Slackers

[Film Fest] Sundance 2008 is almost gone from us now and with the last weekend upon us so for all of you folks that if you haven't take advantage of this amazing opportunity to see amazing rebel film making, and go celebrity hunting just because you loathe the idea of making the pilgrimage to Park City and fighting the traffic, the ego pollution and the bone chilling cold, let me just say this: I don't blame you.

In my fourth year of enjoying the Sundance film festival, this has been by far my most favorite year and I never set foot in Park City. On top of that I've had the least amount of difficulty getting tix this year and have seen more celebrities then ever before.

First off I gotta say props to our film guru Scott Renshaw for being on the front lines up in Park City every day of this crazy festival. His advice has helped steer me clear of some potential "suckfest" movies and onto some good ones. Best of all is that I and the rest of you movie buff slackers can take advantage of these reviews to plan out which movies you want to see and just figure out when they're playing in Salt Lake. Chances are when a movie plays in the SLC you gotta much better chance of not only buying advance tix (15$) at the Trolley Square box office, but you also gotta good chance at getting in just at the waiting line. Grab yer number two hours before and then you only have to wait in line a half hour before the movie starts.

In this unprepared fashion I've gotten a chance to see three great documentaries this festival, The Linguists (check Scott's review here), Kicking It and Slingshot Hip-Hop.

In these screenings I still got the chance to see the directors in person and hear them talk about their work. Which was amazing for Slingshot Hip-Hop a documentary about the growth of Palestinian rappers using hip-hop to artistically channel their rage at the Jewish occupation. Man you thought Compton was a rough 'hood, imagine what kind of music gets produced on the streets of Gaza. Not only was the director present afterwards but she also brought 5 of the Palestinian rappers from the feature who answered questions and ended the night with some freestyle Arabic rap.

Last night I managed to get into a midnight showing of Hell Ride, a Tarantino production directed by Larry Bishop. Bishop a former actor in old Motorcycle gang movies of the late 60s revives the genre in an epic movie packed with bloody revenge, bikes, peyote and hot oil wrestling biker chicks. You know, your typical snobby intellectual Sundance feature.

But after the movie ended the director got up and talked and answered questions along with some of the cast including Michael Madsen, Eric Balfour and Dennis Hopper. Dennis Freaking Hopper!

I'm embarrassed to admit it but I was totally star struck. I mean this is Mr. Easy Rider himself! But then again I figure I was also star struck just because, hey, the last place I thought I would see Michael Madsen and Dennis Hopper would be sitting in the back of the Broadway theater.

But anyways it's not too late slackers! This Friday evening the vaunted adaptation of Chuck Pahlaniuk's Choke is playing at the Tower and tomorrow the animated horror shorts selection Fear(s) of the Dark is playing tomorrow at the Broadway at 3:00, for more info on that one check out the CW review.

And if you've seen nothing, go to the box office and you might be able to pick up some tix for the prize winning movies. They'll be up in Park City, but don't worry, by Sunday when the award winners are shown, the crowds will already be flying back to their respective coasts. (Eric S. Peterson)

Friday Letters Round-Up

• You know, Leavitt is a lot like Plato--if you disregard all that ancient Greek stuff about the value of rational thought.

• Hahahahahahahahaha! This joke never gets old.

• I just made this one up. Get it? Get it?

• As long as we don't say the A-word, I'm sure nobody will know what we're really up to ...

• Now let's see ... it's got to be on this ballot somewhere. "Hey ... hey, you--which button do I press if I want to vote against Socialism?"

• I am getting sick and tired of all these trees around here. Can't they put in a road or a nice Top Stop or something? Yeah, I'll "wildlife" you, you thieving squirrel!

(Brandon Burt)

Meth: It's What's for Dinner

[TV] AMC's new original TV drama Breaking Bad could be the best show about a middle-aged meth dealer since, well, ever--and I'm not even going to make the all-too-easy Ogden joke here. If you missed Sunday's premiere (which City Weekly's Ted McDonough called "hilarious," and he ain't easy to get a laugh out of, trust me), AMC repeats it twice tonight; second episode to follow on Sunday. It's good, dark stuff--we know you like it that way.

As part of AMC's promotion, the website WaltsWisdom.com lets you send a personalized get-yr-shit-together video to a friend--it may not be life-changing, but it is the coolest widget trick I've seen in at least the last five minutes. An example:



(Bill Frost)

Sundance: Lake Effect

[Film Fest] For a screening of a film by a pioneer in experimental cinema, I was engaging in a little experiment of my own: Could I really sit through 80 minutes of images of one location?

James Benning's casting a glance is of particular significance to a local journalist, since the subject of the avant-garde legend's visual essay is Robert Smithson's Spiral Jetty, the massive stone-and-earth art piece in the Great Salt Lake. Over the course of 37 years, from April 1970 through last year, Benning shot footage of the Jetty, capturing the changes in its appearance as the water levels of the lake fell and rose over the decades. The shots last anywhere from one to three minutes, the only background noise generally consisting of the lapping of waves or the calls of shore birds.

There are levels of cinematic geek-dom, and I generally don't fall into that level that finds the material described above absorbing; give me a story, or give me No-Doz. And indeed, I'd be lying if I said I didn't nod off once or twice (though, to be fair to myself, at this point in the festival anyone who says they aren't nodding off hasn't been working hard enough). But there are also astonishing images here, from salt-covered stones that resemble alien eggs, to foam being blown over the surface of the lake like white tumbleweeds. There's tedium, yes, and there's beauty, and a somewhat remarkable look at a work of art that made an impact on the natural world around it, even when it was hidden below the lake's surface. (Scott Renshaw)

Girlfriend needs a manager!

[Republican Family Values] For those who worry that everybody in Utah County has become a neocon bent on spending up the hugest deficit in U.S. history, it's good to know that the key value of thriftiness is still espoused by some people in Orem.

Yep, you read right: That was $20 for a blowjob.

Somebody needs to have a talk with those girls--if not to keep them indoors where they obviously need to be kept, at least to teach them the value of a dollar. (Hint, girls: The value of a dollar is falling like a rock. Start your negotiations out at $200 and haggle from there.) Where is the union rep?
(Brandon Burt)

Utah Adopts Reporters' Shield Rule

[Media] Put this post in the category of completely self-serving news.

Well, not exactly. A shield rule that allows Utah reporters to protect their sources' identity will help news gathering for all of us--here at City Weekly and every other print, broadcast and online operation. And that, in turn, will help everyone who reads a paper, watches TV news, reads a blog. Most everyone.

Sometimes Utah's institutions really do the right thing by the public. The following e-mail came yesterday, signed by two Salt Lake City media lawyers who have been advocating for the shield rule--Jeff Hunt and Michael O'Brien.

"Dear Media Coalition Members:

Good news! The Utah Supreme Court yesterday adopted a reporter's shield rule for Utah. Acting with remarkable speed, the Court adopted Rule 509 of the Utah Rules of Evidence just one day after the public comment period on the Rule closed. According to an email I received last night from the Court's legal counsel, Rick Schwermer, and confirmed by a phone call this morning, the Court met yesterday and adopted the rule, effective immediately. That means news reporters in Utah are covered by the new privilege as of now. Schwermer said the Court would issue a written order later formalizing its adoption of the Rule.

... The Rule creates a near-absolute privilege for confidential sources. The only exception: when disclosure is necessary to "prevent substantial injury or death." ... This language is even more protective of confidential sources than existing case law and would compel disclosure of confidential sources only in the most extreme circumstances.

The rule also protects unpublished non-confidential newsgathering material, e.g., outtakes, notes, photographs, etc., subject to the balancing test that the Utah federal and state courts have been using for the past twenty years.

Through this process, Mike and I have become intimately familiar with the shield laws of the other 47 states and the District of Columbia. In our judgment, the Utah rule provides some of the strongest protections to news reporters of any shield law in the nation.

The Supreme Court's adoption of the rule culminates a nearly three-year-long campaign to enact a reporter's shield law in Utah. As you know, there have been many ups and downs along the way. The end result is very gratifying. Our thanks go to all of you who submitted public comments of the Rule, helped us educate the Advisory Committee and Supreme Court, consulted with us on strategy, and took the battle to the public via op-ed pieces, radio and television interviews, and editorials. This could not have happened without your support."

Oh. That's journalism god Hunter S. Thompson in the photo, c. 1971.

(Holly Mullen)

Sundance: "Excuse Me, I Need to Take This ..."

[Film Fest] I know people in the entertainment industry have convinced themselves that they need to be accessible every moment of the day, but come on, people. Have we no dignity at last?

In a festival venue's men's room, I overheard animated talking in a stall. And sure enough, after the flush, someone emerged still engaged in a conversation on his earpiece cell phone.

And we wonder why Hollywood ends up making so much crap. Thank you! I've been here all week ... (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance: Gold Metal

[Film Fest] Director Sacha Gervasi obviously understands the shadow that This Is Spinal Tap casts over his documentary Anvil! The Story of Anvil, his chronicle of the long-lived, never-quite-made-it Canadian heavy metal band for which he was once a roadie in the 1980s. During a recording session, he zooms in on an amplifier where the numbers go to 11; he follows band members on a tourist trek to Stonehenge. Even the band members themselves understand that they’re living a Spinal Tap-esque existence, as a backstage walk through a tiny venue’s blank hallways inspires a shout of “Hello, Cleveland!” I mean, the drummer’s name is Robb Reiner (as opposed to the single-b Rob Reiner who directed Spinal Tap). It seems like they were doomed from birth to these comparisons.

But there’s something even more poignant about Anvil!, because it’s all real. Founding members Reiner and singer/guitarist Steve “Lips” Kudlow – childhood pals now in their 50s, supporting themselves with day jobs like delivering school lunches – soldier on at turning their 35-year project into something that will finally draw the wide acclaim that always eluded them, despite inspiring speed-metal legends like Anthrax, Megadeth and Metallica. And Gervasi, allowed extraordinary access thanks to his longtime association with the band, discovers both a tale of almost absurd persistence and a sweet tribute to Kudlow and Reiner’s friendship. Ultimately, those two ideas become impossible to separate: As much as they love making the music, you get the feeling that they also can’t give up the bond that keeps them together.

At times, Anvil! hits some of the cringingly hilarious comic high notes of Spinal Tap: watching Kudlow try to raise money for a studio session by doing high-pressure telemarketing; a gig at a Prague nightclub where the owner tries to pay them in bowls of goulash; a performance at the wedding reception of the band’s other guitarist. But there’s one other crucial way that Anvil deserves comparison to This Is Spinal Tap: It has fun with its subject, but never loses respect for their commitment. A room full of critics broke into spontaneous applause at one point, recognizing an improbably heroic moment for the band. How much more awesome could a salute to these guys be? The answer is none. None more awesome. (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance: The Thrill is On

[Film Fest] People see a lot of quirky comedies, minimalist dramas and other theoretically high-brow fare at Sundance. But why don’t people generally think of scary movies when they think of the festival?

History suggests Sundance thrillers should warrant more attention, between those that were box office hits (The Blair Witch Project, Saw) and those that triumphed artistically (last year’s Joshua and The Signal). Still, the creepy stuff generally finds itself relegated to the Midnight Category, far out of the limelight. You’d think the cinematic establishment didn’t really respect the thriller as a genre. Oh wait …

This year’s festival hasn’t exactly been swimming in thrillers. Michael Haneke’s English-language remake of his own 1997 film Funny Games made an appearance, but it’s scheduled for a theatrical release in just over a month. And I’ll have plenty more to say about Haneke’s little experiment in self-replication at that time.

Otherwise, you’re left with something like the high-seas high-tension of Olly Blackburn’s Donkey Punch. Three young women from Leeds, England – on a Spanish holiday to help one of them forget about a bad breakup – hook up with a group of seemingly charming men, only to find a trip back to their yacht turning into a nightmare. The closed environment of a boat on the water should lend itself to nerve-wracking action, but the film never manages to move beyond lurid to find something genuinely unsettling. People die at all the predictable intervals, though they do so in some relatively creative ways. But the really scary thing is how something with this much sex, drugs and violence can end up leaving a viewer faintly bored. (Scott Renshaw)

The (New) Life of Reilly

[Sportswriters We Love] For a long, long time there was one main reason to read Sports Illustrated: Rick Reilly.

Then the columnist who had top real estate on the back page decided to leave the magazine. (Damn you, Reilly! Didn't you know you were why I resubscribed after letting my SI subscription lapse at least a decade ago?)

This story about his sabbatical from columnizing (until he starts up at ESPN) explains what he's been up to. And still, I miss him. (Holly Mullen)

News Flash from The Mormon Times!

[Media] Oh how I treasure knowing that the D-News has shed light on what's going on with that mysterious segment of Utah's population, known as "the Mormons." You may have thought the D-News' LDS news line column, Religion and Ethics column or...the rest of it's paper, was covering the latest coming off the Latter-day wire, well you were wrong.

The latest breaking news The Mormon Times tells us is a list the Church is presenting on LDS vocabulary they are officially retiring. Some of these quaint terms were quite apropos during the nifty fifties but apparently don't have a place any longer in the modern church vocab.

Just for fun I'll list some of the obsolete terms and you try and guess why the church is reluctant to be using them anymore (just for help I will provide some italicized hints).

Deseret Sunday School Union: the original name of the church's Sunday school program.

(The last man to organize a Sunday school union strike against the church disappeared Jimmy Hoffa-style... into outer darkness)

Rainbows: a name for primary age girls. (Damn hippie children ruined that one for the LDS kids)

Gaynotes: original name for girls in the Liahona or "little homemaker" program. (insert own joke here)

M-Men and Gleaners: young men and young women's departments in the church's 1921 MIA program. (I swear I saw an ad for M-Men and Gleaners somewhere in the back of one of the City Weekly classifieds around here somewhere...) (Eric S. Peterson)

When Movies (Besides Ones Directed by Joel Schumacher) Make You Hurl

[Film] In non-Sundance-related news...

According to a thrilling nonstory/infotainment piece by CNN, the movie Cloverfield has many people complaining about the motion-sickness caused by the hand-held aspect of the film. In fact, this situation is so dire that one IMDB user had to leave after only 20 minutes (the story actually cites this board-user).

After some journalistic research (ie combing more online discussion boards), I found that this reaction is not uncommon--which is going to affect peoples' decisions on whether to see the movie.

It's a shame too, because people SHOULD see the movie. I'm not going to review it, but it's unlike anything I've seen in a long time--especially in an age where sci-fi movies, novel by nature, have become increasingly familiar. Now, all that innovation is going to be negated by the fact that the movie makes people sick (aka the movie about a vomit monster who comes to vomit town and vomits all over the vomit people who are already inundated with vomit because the vomit pipe line burst*).

Plus, the only people who complain about shaky cam are old.

*Thanks Lauren (Ryan Bradford)

Sundance: BMI Snowball Showcase

[Fest Music] Last night I ventured up the canyon, an hour later than planned, to attend the BMI Snowball Showcase. The evening's scheduled performers included Cheb i Sabbah with Salar Nader, Mitch Hyare and special guest Gingger Shankar, Steve Smith from Dirty Vegas, Devotchka's Nick Urata and headliners The Aggrolites. To be honest, I was only familiar with Devotchka, but decided to brave another evening on Main Street since BMI was kind enough to invite me and three friends out to the event, held at the spacious Kimball Art Center--emphasis on spacious. For some reason, tiny clubs are the new hard-to-find clubs. Last Saturday I went to a party in a shoe store! A shoe store.

We left after 15 minutes of bumping into one too many puffy coats.

We hoped to arrive at the BMI show promptly at 6, have a drink or two, then grab some dinner elsewhere. Instead, we arrived at the Park City's Albertson's parking lot at 7, only to find out someone is charging a $100 flat fee for the chance to park there. Ridiculous. So we drove around like out-of-town newbies until a snow-crusted mound looked good enough to precariously mount the Subaru. What next? Oh, dancing across unpaved sidewalks trying to find a shuttle stop. We finally accessed one that was headed in the opposite direction from our destination, but figured it would circle back eventually. Heck, it was warm and I'd chosen form over function for the evening's attire.

When we finally arrived at the Kimball Art Center, we discovered a long line clustered around the entrance. Oh man. Not again! We stood there for about 10 minutes before I swallowed my pride and approached the BMI rep at the door. "Um, don't you know who I am?" I thought I said. I probably said something more like, "Um, hi. It's Jamie, do you remember me. The humble servant of the press?" Much to my surprise, she let us in right away. Woohoo! We missed the first two acts, but had a chance to grab some wine before Nick Urata took the stage. Before he came on, the emcee requested that the audience keep it down or go into another room to chat. It was refreshing to hear someone treat musicians with respect at a festival that so often turns bands into sideshows.

Urata was humble and amazing. He apologized in advance for failing to compare to the usual spectacle his eight-piece band puts on, then launched into a series of romantic ballads that were free of cliches and somewhat haunting in an old-soul type of way. He switched up his guitars, manipulated them using effects pedals, and just nearly shut up the crowd (who just couldn't stop themselves from murmuring at least a little, as you can tell from the brief footage here).

The Aggrolites came on right about the time the bar ran out (!) of wine. Either organizers were unprepared, or there were a whole lot of lushes boozing it up. I got up close for what I thought would be a sweaty, punk-fueled affair, but quickly realized the tight band was set on a more mellow performance. A few diehards in the crowd shook their fists in the air and modestly skanked to the restrained reggae/ska. Good stuff, but nothing all too memorable. Perhaps The Aggrolites were holding back for the industry event?

All in all, a good Sundance experience. We left the party to grab some grub off Main with our friend Patrick, who is working with local filmmakers Steven Greenstreet and Bryan Young on a documentary about (in a nutshell) obesity. Keep an eye out for the film which is in its final stages of development. Young says the soundtrack will feature material from several Salt Lake City bands, so you know you'll be hearing more about it from me. (Jamie Gadette)

Bruce Lee and Other Badasses

[Mass Transit] Since the first of the year, I've been taking the University TRAX line almost daily to and from the CW offices. It's partly a mission to lighten up my size-8 carbon footprint; and oh yeah, I have "loaned" my 7-year old car to my 19-year-old daughter in Los Angeles.

Beyond the minute environmental difference I'm making, I get a lot more than I give in this deal. The eavesdropping opportunities on the train are fabulous. (I partially make my living off of overhearing others' conversations--don't say you weren't warned.) This morning, on the 9:29 ride from Rice-Eccles Stadium, two rough-hewn guys, just slightly liquored up, got on at the Library stop, sat right behind me and spent the next three minutes (until I got off the train at Gallivan Plaza) comparing the prowess of martial arts heroes. Here is their approximate conversation:

Guy 1: A lady friend gave me this diamond earring (points to his ear).
Guy 2: You better have it in the right ear. You could get beat up for wearing it in the wrong ear, my man.
Guy 1: Yeah, but they'd have to be tough, man. They'd have to be Bruce Lee to beat me up.
Guy 2: Bruce Lee. Oh man, he was the baddest martial arts dude. The baddest.
Guy 1: What about Chuck Norris?
Guy 2: Chuck Norris. He's bad. He's the second baddest.
Guy 1: I'll agree with you there, man. And Jet Li. He's the third baddest. Him and that guy in Transformers.

(Holly Mullen)

DV8, Well-Done

[News] Last night, longtime downtown SLC concert/dance venue DV8 burned down. The joint opened as Cartoons Comedy Club in the early '80s, later becoming DV8 dance club with the occasional band and, eventually, one of the hottest alt-rock venues of the '90s: Tool, PJ Harvey, Elastica, Primus, the Rev. Horton Heat, Garbage and countless others played DV8 regularly; Pearl Jam made their Salt Lake City debut there. Even during an awkward phase as Club Xscape in the '00s, the place still hosted some great shows--and, even better, didn't host a scheduled concert by Canadian douche-rockers Nickelback because the band said the place "wasn't big enough, eh."

DV8 has been closed and empty for years, but your local TV news had no clue: Last night, you could forgive West Valley-based ABC 4 for not knowing anything about the Downtown West Temple area (at least they knew the Capitol Theatre was around there somewhere), and Fox 13 was too busy with important American Idol news, but KUTV 2? They're two blocks away and the only possibly endangered nearby businesses they could name were the Salt Palace and the Marriott Hotel. These are your downtown neighbors, Caffe Molisse, Mynt Martini, Benihana, etc. Do KUTV employees ever go anywhere downtown between the studio and the parking garage? (Bill Frost)

Sundance: Finally!

[Film Fest] Just when it looked as though Sundance 2008 would provide the most uninspired crop of American Dramatic Competition Films in my memory … well, that's pretty much still true. But at least I can walk away from it all having seen one great piece of filmmaking.

The film is Sugar, the second feature from the Half Nelson team of Ryan Fleck and Anna Boden, and they continue to combine a powerful naturalism with a refusal to allow that “naturalism” to become “tedium.”

The story follows Miguel “Sugar” Santos (Algenis Pérez Soto), a 19-year-old professional pitching prospect, from a training academy in his native Dominican Republic through spring training and his first minor-league assignment in a small Iowa town. The expected culture shock ensues—only knowing enough English to order one breakfast from the diner menu; enjoying hotel-room porn; eating meat loaf with the nice farm family he stays with—but Sugar is more than a fish-out-of-water tale. In the course of exploring a very specific milieu, Fleck and Boden capture something universal about the appeal of America as a land of dreams, and the collision of those dreams with harder realities. Low-key yet engrossing performances from the entire cast contribute to a tremendous piece of human drama. Turns out my sports draft analogy from yesterday was more appropriate than I knew; there’s an obvious #1 pick after all. (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance: Draft Odor

[Film Fest] Day 6. I have at this point seen 9 and 1/8 of the American Dramatic Competition films, with scheduled times to see four of the remaining six. I’ve used the analogy before that Sundance is very much like the draft for a pro sports league, with that excitement for the Next Big Thing, but realizing one of these movies has to win a Grand Prize calls to mind a sadder part of that analogy: There are the drafts where #1 gets LeBron James, and there are drafts where #1 gets Michael Olawokandi.

There are some that are at least deserving of some praise. There’s Phoebe in Wonderland, writer/director Daniel Barnz’s story of the titular 9-year-old girl (Elle Fanning, the also-preternaturally-talented sister of Dakota) and her struggles with undefined emotional and/or neurological issues. Bits and pieces of the film are positively terrific: the relationship between Phoebe and a flamboyantly theater-loving male classmate; Felicity Huffman’s agonized monologue about her parental fears; and the raw despair of a kid who doesn’t know what’s happening to her. But the fanciful stuff occasionally gets too fanciful, as it does when Patricia Clarkson – as Phoebe’s odd duck of a drama teacher – turns into a sort of Mary Poppins figure. It’s solid “B” work, and yet I find myself clinging to its flawed appeal.

Deeper flaws damage both the crowd favorite Sunshine Cleaning and the edgier The Mysteries of Pittsburgh. The former casts Amy Adams (Enchanted) and Emily Blunt (The Devil Wears Prada) as sisters who launch a crime-scene cleanup company, and in the process have to come to terms with their own family baggage. The two lead actresses are typically terrific, particularly Adams as an ex-high school queen-bee struggling to come to terms with her life as an under-employed single mom. But the writing and directing both prove uneven, and I think I’ve officially lost patience with films where I wait for the inevitable revelation of the Past Tragedy That Has Changed Our Protagonist(s) Forever.

Even The Mysteries of Pittsburgh falls into that trap, though it’s problematic for other reasons, too. Rawson Marshall Thurber’s adaptation of the Michael Chabon novel casts Jon Foster as the son of a Pennsylvania mobster whose post-college graduation summer involves hanging out with a gorgeous violinist (Sienna Miller) and her charismatic but bad-news boyfriend (Peter Sarsgaard). The performances are solid all around, but when it comes right down to it, this is yet another one of those stories where someone either literally or figuratively winds up by saying, “My life was never the same after that summer.” This guy, changed a little bit more than most, but still … (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance: Get Yr Birds Straight

[Film Fest] In a previous post, Salt Blog "reported" (i.e. "passed along random gossip") that an unnamed columnist from a Salt Lake City daily newspaper threw a diva fit at the Sundance Film Festival last week. The accompanying pic led some to believe that the columnist in question was the Salt Lake Tribune's "Culture Vulture." Common mistake: It was actually "The Gay Cathartidae" of the Magna Monitor; he's always causing a scene. Sorry for any confusion--we'll be slightly more careful with our gossip regurgitation in the future. (Bill Frost)

Another Reason to Go to the Gallows (Show)

[Music] British punk rockers are so punk, Disney doesn't want them. Gallows play Avalon on Wednesday, Jan. 30.



(Jamie Gadette)

"Om" to the Utah Senate

[Prayers and Politics] Namaste, all!

The Utah Senate will open with its first-ever Hindu prayer on Feb. 13.

This, according to information from the man who will give the prayer, Rajan Zed (that's him in the photo). The self-described "prominent Hindu chaplain and Indo-American leader" will deliver the prayer first in Sanskrit, then offer its translation in English.

While there are plenty of opening prayers at the Legislature of the familiar "Our Father In Heaven" variety, Rajan Zed says he'll recite from "Rig-Veda," which dates to around 1,500 B.C. and remains the oldest world scripture still in common use. He will start and end the prayer with "OM"--the "mystical syllable containing the universe, which, in Hinduism is used to introduce and conclude religious work."

Translated into English, Rajan Zed will pray: "Lead us from the unreal to the real, from darkness to light, and from death to immortality." And reciting from chapter three of Bhagavad-Gita, he will "urge the senators to act selflessly."

Ah, that's the challenge. Does "acting selflessly" include sending back those Jazz tickets and canceling those executive tee times with the lobbyists? (Holly Mullen)

Sundance: Rock Band vs. Rock Band

[Fest Music] Ahh Sundance, how you fail to surprise us. Last year and the year prior, I covered music for City Weekly's daily festival updates. It was a mixed bag of freezing temperatures, shitty stuck-up celebs, friendly and not-so friendly club owners, and some truly amazing music performances.

Both years, I returned to the valley feeling a little empty. Bands who put their heart and soul into their Sundance performances were often met with indifference--especially at random parties where the people in attendance cared more about free Socko and vodka or how hot they looked than the headlining act providing background sounds for their inept behavior.

I remember watching Broken Social Scene from behind a sectioned off "VIP" area placed directly in front of the stage. Of course, all of the people inside the "VIP" area had their backs turned to the Canadian collective. What a waste. I bring this up because I'm planning to head up to PC tonight to see the Aggrolites at a BMI party (by the way, BMI's representatives are some of the nicest, most accomodating people I've met during past festivals) and am feeling kind of ambivalent about it all.

Last week, Salt Lake City's Future of the Ghost performed at a Sundance party in one of Park City's bars, temporarily branded by several corporate imprints. The band had to basically force their way onstage, then wait until the folks playing Rock Band (the videogame which allows users to pretend they're musicians) finished up and made room for the three-piece indie group. What? Why even hire a band to perform? Why not hire a DJ or better yet, leave the audience members to talk amongst themselves (since they obviously love the sound of their voices). Needless to say, it was the Future of the Ghost's worst show to date.

Here's some footage of them performing for people who give a shit:



Check out Future of the Ghost at Velour for the SLAMMys showcase, also featuring Seve vs. Evan and Kid Theodore.

I'll let you know how the Aggrolites show turns out. Fingers crossed (Jamie Gadette)

Majerus and that Pie Hole Problem

[Loose Lips] Gotta say, it's tough knowing what side to come down on in the ongoing saga that is life for Rick Majerus, former (and most winning) Runnin' Utes coach. Majerus, current coach of the St. Louis University Billikens men's basketball team, has opened his big pie hole and created havoc...again. And again. (That's two St. Louis Catholic honchos, and Majerus on the far right in this St. Louis Post-Dispatch photo.)

Majerus is a Wisconsin native, son of a major labor organizer, and with his salty mouth and huge girth, could pass for your basic stereotype of a Hormel meat packer. His coaching style, at least at Utah, included making points at practice by whipping out his penis to scold Michael Doleac and routinely calling his college players by that classy slang word for female genitalia.

He left the University of Utah in 2004, following a very public account in the daily newspapers of the way he singled out one of his players, hearing-impaired center Lance Allred, as a "cripple" and a "disgrace to cripples." The official U. account was that he left for medical reasons. But the truth is, big donors and lifelong fans were getting rather fed up with his inhumanity.

It took the U. far too long to address the problem of Rick Majerus, mostly because he won games. Bunches of 'em. And he took the Utes to a 1998 Final Four appearance. Glory Days. But the man was/is vulgar, loud and frequently bigoted. And a liberal iconoclast, to boot.

So now, he's on the wrong side of official Catholic-dom for speaking openly, in public, on his own time as an American citizen at a political rally, in support of abortion rights. I must say, a guy who counts "c--t" as one of his favorite insults while supporting Roe v. Wade is a study in contrasts. My feminist sensibilities are on a roller coaster ride.

What do you think? Should Majerus, who coaches at a private Catholic university, have the right to not only hold an anti-church position on abortion but to speak out about it? Does anyone in a similar position have that right? Could a coach at Salt Lake's Judge Memorial Catholic High School march in a pro-choice rally? What about BYU football coach Bronco Mendenhall? Not that it would ever happen, but I'm just sayin'.

Any thoughts? (Holly Mullen)

Sundance: More on Terror

[Film Fest] As previously noted, last year's Sundance Film Festival was practically all Iraq, all the time. Now that we've endured a cinematic year of "Iraq fatigue," the films are apparently trying to be a bit more circumspect about sneaking in their Middle East-conflict-themed content.

Towelhead, from Six Feet Under creator Alan Ball, avoids the contemporary conflict entirely and instead heads back to Gulf War I. It’s the story of 13-year-old Jasira (Summer Bishil), a biracial girl who has just moved from her mother’s home in New York to live with her Lebanese father (Peter Macdissi) in Houston. The war itself serves only as a backdrop, while the story itself addresses coming-of-age tropes with both dark humor and uncommon candor. Ball bends his characters in unique direction – particularly Jasira’s Christian, patriotic, brutally traditional father – while giving a dark-humored intrigue to the story of a girl looking for anywhere she can feel like she belongs and is cared for. Be prepared for plenty of provocative, taboo-busting subject matter along with the exceptional performances; I did mention this is the guy who created Six Feet Under, right?

Tom McCarthy’s The Visitor initially doesn’t appear like it could be more removed from political realities. Walter Vale (Richard Jenkins), a widowed Yale economics professor, is flailing about at trying to learn the piano in his oversized Connecticut home. When he heads to New York for a conference, he finds that the seldom-used apartment he keeps there occupied by an illegal immigrant couple victimized by a con man. Not surprisingly, Walter befriends the Syrian-born drummer Tarek (Haaz Sleiman) and his Senegalese girlfriend, and winds up caught up in their lives when Tarek gets caught up in a deportation struggle. The detours into social commentary begin to feel forced, but McCarthy – whose terrific drama The Station Agent played in competition a few years ago – has a keen enough sense of character that the film remains compelling.

Where in the World is Osama bin Laden? – the feature documentary follow-up from Super Size Me creator Morgan Spurlock – doesn’t exactly hide the fact that it’s going to touch on the War on Terror, although it uses comedy to disguise what becomes a policy statement. Using the impending birth of his first child as a frame, Spurlock heads to the Middle East to find the guy making the world such a dangerous place for his future progeny. Like Super Size Me, it’s often a terrifically entertaining piece of filmmaking, particularly a hilarious opening credits sequence pitting Spurlock against Osama in video-game form, a la Mortal Kombat. But ultimately Spurlock’s thesis comes down to “It’s not all about Osama, it’s about the economic and political conditions that make his ideas resonate.” And no offense, Morgan, but you aren’t exactly breaking new ground. Maybe he’ll succeed at bringing this already-familiar poli-sci notion to the masses – except that we already know the masses aren’t interested. (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance: Why I Miss Public Screenings

[Film Fest] Press screenings at Sundance are a wonderful convenience. For those of us who are there primarily to see the movies, it's a hell of a lot easier than ricocheting from venue to venue, fighting throught star-ogling, don't-you-know-who-I-am throngs.

But a few of my favorite moments at Sundance over the years weren’t about what was on the screen. In 1998, when an Egyptian Theatre screening of Buffalo ’66 experienced technical difficulties, writer/director/star/provocateur Vincent Gallo regaled the audience with his opinion that entertainment lawyers were “a bunch of creepy crawlers.” At the Salt Lake City screening of Donnie Darko in 2001, a reel was attached to the print upside-down and backwards, inspiring director Richard Kelly to improvise, “My movie’s weird, but it’s not that weird.”

I was reminded of how much I missed these filmmaker moments at the Tower Theatre screening of the World Cinema comedy Absurdistan, about a tiny, isolated town where the women go on a sex strike to force their men to fix a dilapidated water main. Director/co-writer Veit Helmer introduced the feature with an inspired bit: Taking a page from Borat, he described the film’s fictional setting as a real place from which the filmmakers journeyed first by donkey, and then by Greek fishing boat, “where the film was edited … Greek sailors are really the toughest audience.” He then introduced “Absurdistan’s leading historian,” who took the stage for an incomprehensible but brilliantly acted monologue in Russian. Like the warm-up act for his own movie, Helmer wonderfully primed the audience for the film’s off-kilter comic sensibility—and provided a reminder that behind all these movies, there are some fascinating people. (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance: May I Suggest

[Fest Music] I haven't yet set foot in Park City for reasons I won't bore you with here, but I can tell you that 2008's Sundance Film Festival has hosted some remarkable musicians thus far.

If you're a music lover who is not able to fight the elements and make it up the canyon this year, I urge you to dry those bitter tears.

You don't really want to inadvertently collide with Slash, Bono, or 50 Cent on Park City’s Main Street on an 8 degree day, do you?

Plus, I'll let you in on a little secret.

Although playing a star-studded festival like Sundance is a wonderful opportunity for everyone invited, many musicians who I have interviewed confess that playing the festival circuit mainly for the benefit of industry types is exhausting and monumentally stressful.

Which means, despite Sundance’s intimate venues, you’ll probably get a better performance out of band X or singer/songwriter Y if you see them on an occasion when they don’t feel like their head is a pressure cooker about to explode.

In any case, here’s a list of musicians who have appeared at Sundance this year to date who I would highly recommend all of you music lovers out there in internet land check out ASAP.

Sub Pop’s Helio Sequence (who lit up the Star Bar on Friday night) will make you feel like you’re enveloped in a blissful cloud of catchy guitar-accented electronic pop.

Sub Pop label mates Kelley Stoltz and Daniel Martin Moore (who also graced the Star Bar on Friday) are certainly worth a listen as well.

I don’t claim to have any special talent for predicting the future of music, but I have a hunch that Japanese-born jazz vocalist Emi Meyer (who appeared at the Turning Leaf Lounge on Monday as part of the BMI showcase) could possibly eclipse Norah Jones in popularity.

Califone (who spilt their time between Chicago and LA) are an innovative bluesy experimental band who improvised a soundtrack to a collection of Brent Green’s films called God Builds Like Frank Lloyd Wright: Brent Green and Califone on 3 separate occasions this week. Roots and Crowns, the band’s 2006 release, is one of my absolute favorite releases of this DECADE thus far, so, uh, as you can imagine, I would HIGHLY suggest you procure a copy.

The ASCAP showcase at the Star Bar has hosted performances by notable singer/songwriters Jesca Hoop (she grew up Mormon and she nannied for Tom Waits, you know), Sea Wolf, Eef Barzelay of Clem Snide, Charlotte Sometimes, and Jessie Baylin.

All of the above-mentioned folks have amazing pipes. Musically, nothing hooks me like the human voice.

Dusty Rhodes and the River Band also played the Star Bar Tuesday. I adore them because their joyful music always makes me feel like I’m at Mardi Gras.

I’ll make it up the canyon at some point before the festival ends. If you’re eager for more Sundance music coverage, check this blog tomorrow night. (Jenny Poplar)

Sundance: Bitter Tears Freely Falling

[Fest Music] The fictional pregnant teen Juno and I have something in common. When asked to name our favorite musicians of all time, we both enthusiastically list Patti Smith.

I’ll never forget the first time I saw Patti Smith perform on David Letterman when I was 14. I was struck by her raw, emotional voice and the fierce power of her music. She exuded integrity, independence, intelligence, and thoughtful rebellion.

Patti Smith is the type of artist who makes music that inspires you to believe you do not have to accept the world as it is. The primary message of much of her work is that if you expend enough thought and energy, you can participate in artistic, social, and political movements that make the world a much more interesting and humane place.

Horses is one of the greatest debut albums in rock ‘n roll history, but if you really want to know why I have boundless respect for Patti Smith, please read this.

Smith was invited to perform at the Sundance Film Festival because she is the subject of a Steven Sebring-directed documentary called Patti Smith: Dream of Life.

So, you can imagine the bitter tears I cried when Patti Smith performed on Sunday night in Park City while I was stranded in Salt Lake.

Oh, well. C’est la vie. I’m sure sometime in the future I’ll see Patti on a warm sunny day. In a city where I can take a taxi cab or train instead of braving Parley’s Canyon in a small compact car that does not handle well in the snow. Only to be turned away at the door of the Star Bar because my badge does not say Rolling Stone.

You can see pictures of Patti’s performance and a list of upcoming Star Bar events for peps with proper Sundance credentials here. (Jenny Poplar)

Sundance: Getting the Clap

[Film Fest] A comment to yesterday's posting about the Sundance Dramatic Competition Film North Starr raised a point worth addressing: How can my disdain for the first 15 minutes of the film be given any credence when it received such an OVERWHELMING STANDING OVATION?

If you have never attended a Park City public screening at Sundance, here is something you need to know: Pretty much everything gets an enthusiastic round of applause at Sundance. It is important to note that the audience for a typical Park City public screening usually includes filmmakers and actors, and thus a round of applause is only considered polite. Then there are the filmmakers' and actors' family and friends, their agents, their attorneys, their agents' attorneys, their producers' representatives, and a variety of other industry types in whose best interest it is to pretend that your movie is awesome. Occasionally a genuine groundswell of love is obvious at one of these screenings, but even that means nothing. Please keep in mind that Happy, Texas received one of the most rapturous receptions in the history of the festival a decade ago, and promptly disappeared off the face of the earth.

In summary: If one is basing one's defense of a film on the response of a Park City Sundance audience, one has an agenda. Love what you love, and get over the fact that someone else wasn't willing to endure another 100 minutes of agony for the possibility of hearing people cheer. (Scott Renshaw)

Heath Ledger Dead

[Celebrity News] If you have Internet connection and/or work in an office, you've probably already heard the news. What I want to know is how this development impacts us regular joes. Yes, it's sad. But why do we, myself included, get so teary-eyed over folks we don't actually know (beyond their roles in arguably significant films)? It's not exactly the day the music died.

Let's hear it folks. What, if anything, did Heath mean to you? (Jamie Gadette)

Give 'Em Their Torches and Pitchforks

[Online Media] Wow. Don't you just love the brain trust that responds to Salt Lake Tribune stories via its online comment board? As of this writing, there are three full pages of reaction to this troubling Jan. 21 story, from the brave bigots who glibly eviscerate an entire ethnic group while cozily hiding behind their pseudonyms.

If, as the saying goes, newspapers are the rough draft of history, what are these comment boards, exactly? A form of electronic lynching? Clearly they offer license to hate an entire group of people, based on few facts and next to no context.

Adding insult to this racist injury are some editors at the Trib, who seem all too quick to post, then just as quickly edit out reporters' descriptions of skin color, ethnic group and the like in crime stories. What the hell is going on? In the days of stodgy old print journalism, editors were careful to keep racial descriptions from creeping into stories unless it was confirmed and helpful in giving the public important identifying information.

But this is the wild west of online journalism. It's kill or be killed in the new media world. If that means rushing to post something prejudicial or purely inflammatory, then scrambling to remove it, then posting it again through shifting production cycles, well c'est la vie.

Meanwhile, over at the Deseret Morning News, a few comments actually showed some concern for the recovering victims. (Holly Mullen)

Jack Johnson? Really?

[Music] The lineup for this year's Coachella Music Festival has been announced and Mr. La Di Dah is scheduled to kick off the three-day outdoor extravaganza with a round of boring campfire sing-a-longs. Seems an odd choice, considering The Breeders, Stephen Malkmus and The Verve are also appearing. Maybe I'm just stuck in the '90s.



Other highlights include Portishead (!), Metric, Stars, Cold War Kids, My Morning Jacket, Love & Rockets, Justice, Yo Majesty, M.I.A., Animal Collective, Diplo, Battles, Turbonegro, The National, The Swell Season (Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglová), and many more. I went a few years ago when Radiohead headlined and am amazed how many of the acts I saw remain relevant to me today. I remember catching The Black Keys before they exploded. And Le Tigre with about 50 other people while The Cure played to the rest of the attendees.

Road Trip! (Jamie Gadette)

999 Mitts Too Many

[Election 2008] In other Mitt Romney news, this promo is currently running on CBS' Late Show With David Letterman:

"Hey, is your name 'Mitt'? Then the Late Show wants you to be a part of our 'Night of a Thousand Mitts.' Just send a 3X5 card to: 'Hey, I'm Mitt c/o The Late Show, 1697 Broadway, New York, New York 10019. Good luck, and get Mitting!"

Remember, this is the late-night show that has writers. And "3X5 card"? What about the Interweb? Don't Mitts have access to that? (Bill Frost)

Worst Episode of Punk'd Ever

[Election 2008] Son Matt Romney pranks pa Mitt with a phone call from California governor Ah-nold Schwarzenegger. Hilarity does not quite ensue ...



(Bill Frost)

Sundance: More Black and White

[Film Fest] Sundance documentaries this year want us to know that we still live in a very race-divided society. Thank you, Sundance documentaries. In other news, the sky is blue.

I kid Sundance documentaries, because I love. But I would love a lot more of them this year if they weren’t so dependent on their premises, and not on what the filmmakers are able to do with those premises. The Order of Myths begins with a fascinating footnote: the way the city of Mobile, Alabama holds two distinct Mardi Gras celebrations, one historically all-white and the other historically all-black. At times, director Margaret Brown captures that distinctively Southern capacity to justify nearly anything because of its connection to “history” and “tradition;” it’s jaw-dropping watching members of all-white “secret societies” putting on masks and hoods as though their revelry could have no other possible connotation. But ultimately there aren’t truly compelling characters to carry the film beyond everything it told you in its first 15 minutes.

Trouble the Water – in which Tia Lessin and Carl Deal follow Hurricane Katrina survivors Kimberly Rivers and Scott Roberts for 18 months before, during and after the ordeal – proves to have at least a little more intriguing subtext. The “before” and “during” part is the real hook, as New Orleans Ninth Ward resident Rivers used her personal camcorder to chronicle her neighbors’ preparations, and their two days trapped in an attic before taking a boat to safety. The footage is undeniably gripping, and narrowing the impact of the disaster – both natural and bureaucratic – to these individuals provides a distinct perspective. But Trouble the Water actually proves more interesting as a portrait of community, including the band of survivors that becomes a makeshift family for Rivers and Roberts. The country may have let New Orleans down, but it brings a little lump to the throat watching the way those who lived there refused to let each other down. (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance: The Extra "R" is for "Really Lame"

[Film Fest] Day Four is when my tolerance for utterly unredeemable crap at Sundance vanishes entirely. I'll start to bail out on the movies with that stench of "I had a DV cam and a burning desire to write a terrible script." Usually I last at least 30 minutes, hoping against hope that sometime around Plot Point #1 (read up on your Syd Field Screenwriting for Dummies, boys and girls), something interesting will happen.

North Starr did not invite me to make it to that magic half-hour mark. I knew I was in trouble when the film opened with a dream sequence, the filmmaking equivalent of “I really don’t know how to start my movie.” It got hilariously worse with a conversation between two African-American gentlemen – one of them an aspiring rapper, apparently, the other his “homey” – which appeared to be constructed out of a hip-hop-themed Mad Libs: “Yo, you packin’ a [street slang for gun]?” Apparently writer-director Matthew Stanton never saw Airplane!’s two jive-talking passengers, because he has re-made that scene as though it were not meant to be funny. After our protagonist flees Houston, having witnessed the murder of his pal, he wanders down a road, sits under a tree, smokes a cigarette and begins writing rap lyrics describing the scene we just endured – all in the course of a single static shot. I was done.

I have now spent more time writing about this movie than I spent watching it. (Scott Renshaw)

Think You're Having A Bad Day?

Suddenly my problems don't seem so rough

(Jamie Gadette)

Sundance: Slamdance Shorts

[Film Fest] The best part about Slamdance's Gallery Screening Room is the small, intimate feel. It's the perfect place to screen shorts.

"Bush" by Irish director Fran Apprich, led Shorts Block 1. Perhaps there’s some cynicism on my part, but the short felt like a home video. It opens with a child putting on play makeup. She goes on to talk about bushes. "I don't like them. They can poke you and my mom says not to eat the berries." Later, she says she likes flowers, specifically bluebells. This film could be a political statement on another Bush, but that'd be a stretch.

The opening sequence of "There’s a Werewolf in My Attic" is peppered with sharp scary sounds, reminiscent of Scooby-Doo. The acting is strained and amateurish, but director Sam Thompson's clear obsession with the horror genre makes it possible to poke fun at it, resulting in an entertaining, campy little film.

The biggest surprise was “A Catalog of Anticipation,” directed by David Lowery. Upon reading the description – “A foreboding fairy tale about a little girl and her strange affinity for all things deceased” – I expected the film to play out like a student project: strange, indiscernible and morbid. It was quite the opposite. A combination of stop-motion animation and still photography, the visuals are immediately striking. There is a fondness for this young girl and her preoccupation. Lowery described his desire to make a film, but “I only had a still camera, so I used it for both the still images and the animation.” The combination is beautiful.

Slamdance has six shorts blocks, each screening twice during the festival. Within each, are a few bad films but many surprising ones. (Tawnya Cazier)

Doing the Math with Your Education Dollars

With the reign of vouchers gone behind us, legislators have scrambled to fill the power vacuum left behind by the defeated education voucher cabal. While Utahns have realized vouchers ain't cutting it, they also recognize something needs to be done.

One of the first bills to be coming up will most likely be one heard in tomorrow's senate education committee- the "Differentiated Teacher Salary" bill put forward by Sen. Howard Stephenson, R-Draper, would seek to aid the Utah teacher shortage by tacking an extra 5k to the salaries of Math and Science teachers in Utah public schools.

Studies indicating Utah's lack of qualified math and science teachers does seem to make this one a no-brainer. But at the same time, an interesting article put out by the journal of Utah State University points out it may not be enough just to improve teacher salaries bottom lines in Utah unless they can compete with teacher salaries in Utah's neighboring states.

The article while it was from Jan. of 2007 pointed out that Nevada was dropping fat bonuses for signing teachers, even putting down payments on houses for new hires. It also pointed out Wyoming raising it's salary for teachers across the board by 18 percent, and not for just one type of teacher.

The article also cited evidence from a 2007 University of Utah study that showed that besides a shortage of math teachers Utah is hurting for special ed teachers. Certainly special ed students are probably part of the most vulnerable student population out there, it would seem a shame if their needs were neglected for a lack of special education funding.

Unfortunately a major factor that privileges education dollars for hard science teachers vs special ed teachers is the economic viability of a student pop well versed in math and sciences. But then again this selective funding is what you get with full time businessman/part time legislators- public policy served up with a hot, heaping portion of "market forces" ideology. (Eric S. Peterson)

SLAMMys Week 2: Calling All Punks

[Local Music] As my drunk associate Ryan Bradford already noted, Saturday night's SLAMMys punk showcase was great fun. Andale! Monorchist, and Fuck the Informer are all wonderful bands, but I will say that I wish there was more punk music in Utah. I love loud, unruly punk rock in all of it's manifestations.

Most of the time, I fill the homegrown void with imported music. My current out-of-state favorites are California-based Mika Miko and No Age (who are incidentally coming to town Jan. 31st with the Liars), and Memphis-based Jay Reatard.

There's got to be a gaggle of angry teenagers SOMEWHERE in the state of Utah who are ready to buy some cheap gear and start making some noise.

Speaking of noise, I would highly suggest next Saturday's SLAMMY's noise showcase at Red Light Books. Sampling Utah's incredible experimental music scene will leave you feeling a bit dazed and disoriented. But it's an aural trip worth taking, trust me on this. (Jenny Poplar)

All I Got Was This Lousy T-shirt

[Beer] Add another inexplicable state liquor policy to the endless list of rules that makes us go wha???

Greg Schirf's Wasatch Beers last week launched its latest concoction--"The Devastator"--a double bock beer that measures 8 percent alcohol by volume. For people who relish beer that goes down like malty molasses, I say more power to you and yum! (I'm more of an ale type.)

Anyway, a press package came to CW offices late last Friday, and here's the wacky liquor law part: All we got was an EMPTY six-pack carton and a t-shirt.

The shirt is OK. It's black, features a massive ram snorting steam from its nostrils and rampaging through downtown Salt Lake City, cutting a wide swath between Temple Square and the State Capitol. "Utah Will Never Be the Same," says the slogan beneath the image.

Let's see. The come-on is for a new beer. The six-pack box was empty. State law, of course, says a brewery or any other purveyor can't distribute samples to the media--even when they want us to taste and revel in the new product.

In fairness to Wasatch Beers, brewmaster Dan Burick and beer creator Adam Curfew will be on hand this Friday when Wasatch introduces The Devastator to a presumably thirsty press mob at Squatters Pub Brewery. The tasting is private. But state liquor stores have been stocking the beer since the holidays. And I gave my Devastator thundering ram t-shirt to CW resident Beer Brahman Bill Frost. (Holly Mullen)

Sundance: Flaws of Distraction

[Film Fest] It's early yet. I keep telling myself this: Only three full days down, six more to go. That's plenty of time for a gem to turn up. Don't panic. It's early yet.

For the last several years, I've come to depend on discovering at least one or two films destined for my year-end top 10 list: Napoleon Dynamite in 2004, Kung Fu Hustle and Murderball in 2005, Brick and Half Nelson in 2006, Once and My Kid Could Paint That last year. That’s a lot of pressure to put on the festival, and maybe even a lot to put on myself. What if the one film I can’t quite schedule this year turns out to be “the one?”

While the Documentary Competition has delivered at least a couple of solidly worthy efforts – Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired and Bigger, Stronger, Faster* -- the Dramatic Competition has thus far been characterized by interesting failures and decent films with at least one glaring flaw. In the former category, we have something like Sleep Dealer, a science-fiction allegory with a killer premise: In the near future, the border between Mexico and the United States has been completely shut off, but immigrant labor still performs many tasks remotely by plugging into “nodes” installed in their bodies and becoming the virtual eyes and hands of robot construction workers, nannies, etc. Director/co-screenwriter Alex Rivera has some clever fun with his premise, but the main characters – a rural immigrant to the big city, a writer who sells her memories on a sort of existential eBay, and a Mexican-American guilty about selling out his heritage – aren’t nearly interesting enough. I like my social satire with at least a little more convincing humanity.

On the “glaring flaw” side, we have stuff like The Wackness (too undisciplined), Ballast (too minimalist) and the hilariously named Good Dick. Go ahead, say it once without snickering like an 11-year-old, I dare you. The film itself is about a clerk at an independent video store (Jason Ritter) who becomes obsessed with a customer (Marianna Palka, who also wrote and directed) who always rents porn. The relationship demands a whole hell of a lot of suspension of disbelief, but it’s almost kind of interesting – until the underlying cause of the woman’s intimacy issues is revealed. When Tom Arnold appears in the movie, you can safely assume that it is about to go off the rails. And in this case, not for the usual reason that Tom Arnold sends your movie off the rails. (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance: Ain't That America?

[Film Fest] Notwithstanding my assertion in a City Weekly feature that Sundance was growing ever more international in its thinking, this is still first and foremost an American film festival. How can you tell? Maybe titles like American Son, American Teen, An American Soldier (re-titled The Recruiter since the printing of the film guide).

But it’s not just the titles that are as American as Mom, apple pie and John Mellencamp-scored Chevy commercials. The filmmakers this year seem to be asking what we are all about as a nation during this turbulent time, and they come up with a variety of interesting answers. The documentaries The Recruiter and Secrecy both address controversial current-events topics, but from distinct angles. In Edet Belzberg’s The Recruiter, we meet Houma, La.-based Army recruiter Staff Sgt. Clay Usie, who manages to keep pulling in new potential soldiers even in a time of war. The first half of the film, which follows Usie as he befriends and mentors four teenagers before basic training, provides a fascinating look at a man utterly committed to his mission – to the extent that he makes unsettling overtures to the brother of a recently killed-in-action National Guardsman. Usie’s such a terrific character that the film loses a lot of momentum when it shifts gears to follow those four recruits through their basic training. The footage is eye-opening, but the narrative becomes more about the mechanics of what they do than why they do it.

Peter Galison and Robb Moss’ Secrecy doesn’t traffic in Staff Sgt. Usie’s brand of patriotic moral certitude – though it certainly allows some who do to speak their minds. The filmmakers wind their way through a variety of issues related to the Bush administration’s clampdown on the availability of information, touching on both the perils and the advantages of keeping secrets. But the most fascinating element is a through-line involving the 1948 crash of a B-29 bomber, and the subsequent Supreme Court case that became a landmark “state secrets” case. Even as it touches on obvious security vs. democracy questions, it also puts a human face on what happens when an institution doesn’t consider itself accountable to anyone.

And it’s also the human face that elevates one of the festivals best documentaries thus far: Christopher Bell’s Bigger Stronger Faster*. The one-time bodybuilder clearly has the Morgan Spurlock model in mind as he makes himself the star of an investigation of steroids in American society that could have been titled Super-Duper Size Me. Yet while Bell has a showman’s sense for making his subject matter thoroughly entertaining, he takes his story in a surprisingly affecting direction. Focusing on the steroid-fueled lives of his two brothers – one an occasional pro wrestler, the other a bodybuilder and high school football coach – Bell does not instantly and obviously demonize steroids. Instead, he asks what it is about our culture that makes us so willing to do absolutely anything to get an advantage. The answers he finds makes it hard to imagine that any pro sports league policy or Federal law will dissuade a populace constantly reminded that they’re never good enough. U! S! A! U! S! A! (Scott Renshaw)

SLAMMys Week 2: Burt's & Bar Deluxe

[Local Music] Some pix from the SLAMMys State Street tour last night:

Andale @ Burt's

Monorchist @ Burt's

Monorchist @ Burt's

Tolchock Trio @ Bar Deluxe

(Bill Frost)

SLAMMys Week 2: Punk at Burts Tiki Lounge

[Local Music] It's easy to feel envious of journalistic counterparts who are schmoozing their way into banging, Sundance parties this time of year. Sometimes, I pretend that it don' faze me, like "what do I care if I'm not rubbing up against one or more Olsen twins at the bar... that's uh... gross." But still, the hysteria of the festival is contagious like crabs, and you can't help but get sucked into it (the hysteria, not the crabs).

But last night at Burt's, all I could think of was "those poor saps in Park City." They missed out.

I've long lamented the decline of local punk in the last 8 or so years (not quality, just quantity), so I was looking forward to the night. I showed up fashionably late and unfashionably inebriated (it is punk rock... and Burt's isn't always the easiest place to get a drink), which meant I missed out on Andale!, one of the SLAMMy bands I was looking forward to seeing the most. Perhaps Jenny, Bill or Dominique can fill in that blank...

Monorchist (singer Kourtney Farnsworth above) brought the rawk. Besides getting some fists pumping in the crowd, Farnsworth swaggered on the stage like she owned the place--I was simultaneously terrified and turned-on, which pretty much sums up my whole middle-school experience.

Maybe that's why those kids love the punk rock.

City Weekly-censor-nightmare, Fuck the Informer went on around midnight. Right away, the singer/guitarist divulged the pleasures of smoking in The Truth-sponsored event. The band made their way through a messy set of punk that sounded downright angelic on drunk ears.

As their set wore on, it became visibly apparent that the band was not happy with the thinning/apathetic crowd--even with the formation of a three-person mosh pit (probably the only size that Burt's could accommodate).

After apologizing to the audience (for what, I don't know), the band went on to trash their instruments. In the process, the singer sustained a head wound that resulted in blood dripping down his face--which was totally punk rock. It was also pretty punk when he poured beer on some guy who was spitting at him.

Later, SL Weekly marketing intern Faith Purnell had to pack up the SLAMMys banner hung behind where the bands played and there was blood on it. Punk. Fucking. Rock.

Side note: People--stay for the show! It seems that bands playing the midnight slot get screwed out of an audience. No one wants to play to an empty room. (Ryan Bradford)

Sundance: So Much Drama

[Film Fest] In a number of ways, the American Dramatic Competition is the centerpiece of the Sundance Film Festival. It is here that we find the new filmmaking discoveries. It is at these screenings where we see anxious agents, buyers and studio executives hoping to be the first ones to say to Filmmaker X, “We want to be in the [Filmmaker X] business.” This is something people in the movie industry actually have said, apparently. I don’t know how anybody does anything in Hollywood with a straight face.

Many of these Dramatic Competition films are “small” and “intimate,” by which we actually mean “artistically interesting but you can bet nobody will make a dime off of them.” Ballast, from writer-director Lance Hammer, comes from that school of minimalist Americana that prominently features non-professional actors, rural locations and semi-improvised dialogue. The connection between the main characters – Lawrence (Michael J. Smith, Sr.), a 35-year-old man traumatized by the suicide of his twin brother; and Marlee (Tarra Riggs), the working single mother of 12-year-old James – is only gradually revealed, and watching their mutual dependence develop is always at least somewhat engaging. It simply never makes the leap to fully engrossing, a problem that might have been more easily overcome if the muttered dialogue weren’t borderline inaudible half the time. Note to directors: If you’re cutting costs by hiring amateur actors, splurge on a boom mic or two.

Like Ballast, Neil Abramson’s American Son deals with African-American main characters, and the limited opportunities available in a bleak town. In this case, however, the bleak town took on a particular resonance, because it happened to be the bleak town in which I grew up: Bakersfield, California. The main character, Mike (Nick Cannon), has just completed Marines boot camp, and is on Thanksgiving weekend leave in “Bako” before a deployment to Iraq – a fact he has chosen to keep hidden from his family and friends. Abramson and screenwriter Eric Schmid hit a little close to home in their portrayal of Central Valley tedium, which captivated me more than stuff like the tense relationship between Mike and his white best friend. I just know that American Son understands what it’s like to be in a place where it feels like driving around and getting high are the only recreational opportunities. Come to think of it, I guess co-star Tom Sizemore – who was arrested while shooting the movie there – understands that pretty well, too.

The Last Word is at least nominally more of a comedy than a drama, though how funny you find it may depend a lot on how much less contrived the whole thing seems to you than it did to me. Evan Merck (Wes Bentley) is a struggling writer who (get this!) makes a living writing profound suicide notes for other people. Then while attending the funeral of one of his clients, he meets the guy’s sister Charlotte (Winona Ryder), who immediately (get this!) decides she’s crazy about this anonymous stranger who claims to have been a college friend of her dead, long-estranged brother. Ray Romano provides a surprisingly effective supporting performance as a depressive composer who befriends Evan, and there are some individually spot-on moments (like the puzzled look on loner Evan’s face when he actually hears his phone ring). But so much of the plotting subsequently starts to hinge on ridiculous coincidences, and the performances are too mannered to allow the subject matter’s real sadness to come through. “It’s execution-driven,” Evan improvises when Charlotte discovers a note-in-progress than he claims to be a screenplay with a lame undercover-cop plot. When you’re trying to make a feel-good suicide comedy, that’s true in spades. (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance: Scandalous!

[Film Fest] Do not let anyone tell you that the media at Sundance are here to cover the most elevated aspirations of cinematic art. Here is all you need to know about what really gets everyone's attention: Last year, the most jam-packed press screenings were Hounddog (in which Dakota Fanning's character gets raped) and Zoo (about people who have sex with horses). Thus far, the most jam-packed press screenings have been for Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired (about a guy who has sex with a 13-year-old girl) and The Wackness (in which the most highly publicized scene involved Ben Kingsley macking on an Olsen twin). See if you get that kind of turnout for the movie about the guy who saved people’s lives in Somalia.

Because we are the media, we all have to chase the most sensational story. It’s depressing, but we have mortgages to pay, too. And tell me now whether you’re more interested in hearing about the movie with the noble doctor, or the Mary-Kate face-sucking. That’s what I thought.

The Wackness, from writer-director Jonathan Levine, chronicles the coming of age of high-school graduate and pot dealer Luke Shapiro (Josh Peck) in New York during the summer of 1994. We know that it is 1994 thanks to the onscreen caption at the beginning of the movie, and also the Forrest Gump billboard on the side of a bus, and also the references to Kurt Cobain’s suicide, and also new Giuliani administration and it is apparently extremely important to Jonathan Levine that this movie screams “1994!” from the top of its cinematic lungs.

There are funky charms to be found, particularly if one doesn’t mind Ben Kingsley (as Luke’s drug-addled, painfully immature shrink) eating up scenery by the pound when he’s not engaging in Olsen-riffic tonsil-probing. But The Wackness cares too much about its central metaphor, and not enough about tightening up its script and its characters’ motivations. It’s a sloppy, shaggy, undisciplined Sundance comedy—but by god, it’s got something to leer at. (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance: Down on Main Street

[Film Fest] There's no real need for me to be on Main Street. My movie-watching action revolves almost exclusively around the press screening venues at the Yarrow Hotel and Holiday Theater, and getting here – even by shuttle – takes too long with the crush of traffic.

Yet here I am, because it’s hard not to find the environment perversely fascinating. Main Street becomes a people-watching hub, with its various “swag lounges” (corporate-sponsored getaway spots for people more famous than you) and clubs and restaurants hosting evening parties. Photographers swarm around places where celebrities are suspected to be, and passersby in turn swarm around the photographers, in a sort of paparazzi/rubbernecker perfect storm of starfucking. And maybe you’ll pass by someone, and do a double-take, thinking, “Could Jennifer Aniston really be that short?”

Maybe after 11 festivals I’m a bit more inoculated against the celebrity thing. Not 30 minutes ago, I strolled past Michael Keaton in the lobby of the festival headquarters at the Park City Marriott. He’s surprisingly short, too, but other than noting his lack of verticality, it never occurred to me to do anything but keep walking. I’m not saying that makes me better than someone who might have whipped out a camera-phone. In fact, it probably makes that person better than me, because I don’t even own a camera-phone. I’m just saying that celebrity-spotting here starts to lose its unique fascination after a while. They’re here, they’re in movies, get used to it.

Main Street is also noteworthy for sheer geography. There are too many people trying to navigate sidewalks already choked with the cholesterol of packed snow, they’re lugging around laptops/swag-bags/obscenely over-furred parkas, they’re walking uphill, and the air is thin. And this is during the day, before the sun’s early descent behind the mountains and storefronts makes the temperature drop into something usually associated with Lambeau Field. This is funny on so many levels it probably circles back around to tragic again. And then probably back to gut-bustingly hilarious.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to lug my laptop back down the street and see what other famous person is small enough to fit into my bag. (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance: It's the Filmmaking, Stupid

[Film Fest] People have a hard time distinguishing a good idea from a good movie.

It's easy for a professional film critic to knock the acumen of laypeople; it's like bashing a tax attorney for not knowing how to perform a hysterectomy. The difference is that average moviegoers think they can perform that metaphorical surgery. They know what they like, and they mistake that affection for a measure of filmmaking quality.

Young@Heart director Stephen Walker has a great subject: A Massachusetts-based choral group made up of senior citizens, whose repertoire consists entirely of punk, rock and blues songs. It’s also a subject that practically directs itself if you let it: You point your camera at a bunch of spunky septua-/octo-/nonagenarians belting out “I Wanna Be Sedated,” and let the “isn’t that cute” factor do all the heavy lifting. Everything the story has to offer – the shift in meaning of certain songs when performed by those facing mortality; the saucy energy of 92-year-old expatriate Brit Eileen Hall – has nothing to do with Walker’s facility with the material. And it’s hard not to look at the whole project as vaguely condescending, since with the exception of returning member Fred Knittle – who delivers a haunting version of Coldplay’s “Fix You” while hooked up to oxygen – no one really can sing a lick. They’re all full of life and fun, and that’s terrific, and there are some sad events, and that might make you cry. And the movie says nothing but that.

Compare that to what Marina Zenovich does with Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired. Admittedly, she has the kind of subject that packed an early-morning press screening with movie writers: Revisiting the 1977-78 statutory rape case that sent the celebrated director into exile in France. But she’s done some hardcore reporting, and made stylistic choices that give her every revelation an added punch, whether of drama or (sometimes) comedy. Zenovich turns in not just a fascinating piece of talking-head cinematic journalism, but a real piece of filmmaking. (Scott Renshaw)

SLAMMys: Week 2: Night 1 Recap

[Local Music] Last night's SLAMMys metal/hardcore showcase at Addicted Cafe almost went off without a hitch. I showed up around 7, dragging along a friend who insisted she doesn't like "loud" music. Come on, I said. You need to free your mind! She left after one God's Revolver song. So they're not for everyone, but man did they deliver some much needed catharsis for the end of this hectic work week. In fact, I could only finish one of two tasty vegan sloppy joes before the rock successfully stole my attention.

I tried out the new City Weekly camera, trying to capture all of the action but often losing track of both God's Revolver and I Am the Ocean's lead singers who roamed the floor in front of Addicted's raised corner stage throughout each of their sets.

I Am the Ocean was tiiiight. Guess touring more than half the year really helps a band's chops. Perhaps more impressive--the star-struck fans circling the stage floor, mouthing the words to nearly every song. The front row mainly featured cute young girls who were downright salivating over the young musicians who are "not metal or hardcore," as bassist Jeremy pointed out. Yes, we know. But we can't have specialized labels for every group in town. It's a loose category, for continuity's sake. And, sad to say, the general public doesn't know the difference between metal-core, grind-core, screamo, metal, etc.

The evening closed with Salt Lake City hardcore band Tamerlane who performed about two songs before the packed audience before some jerk got out of control and punched (!) Addicted Cafe owner Kelly's wife in the face. Half the crowd chased him out into the street, ostensibly to teach him a lesson and Kelly, understandably, asked Tamerlane to cut their set short. I was behind the cafe counter with one of Addicted's friendly employees. Though the room was soon covered in tense, uncomfortable silence, he was nice enough to ask if I still wanted my hot chocolate with soy.
A grim end to an otherwise killer evening.

I still suggest checking out Tamerlane whose solid instrumentation and double-team vocals left me wanting more. Here's to controlling yourself and having respect for others. (Jamie Gadette)

Sundance: Black and White

[Film Fest] Because Sundance is what it is, the festival has issues. And I mean that in the sense that the movies are often either overtly or tacitly about something significant. Last year, you couldn’t swing a dead cat in Park City without hitting a movie about Iraq. And then throughout the rest of the year, you could swing several hundred dead cats in any of the theaters where Iraq movies were showing, and not hit a single person. Go figure.

In one of those odd confluences that seems to happen every year, my day at Sundance revolved around issues of black and white. The Black List, a documentary by director Timothy Greenfield-Sanders and erstwhile film critic Elvis Mitchell, is simply a series of interviews with high-profile African-Americans in a variety of fields: Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Chris Rock, Colin Powell, Toni Morrison and Slash are among the 20 subjects. Shot a la Errol Morris’ Interrotron – the interviewees face the camera, the questions to which they’re responding never heard – it only grazes the surface of each person in the course of trying to cover a lot of ground.

But it’s positively profound compared to Katrina Browne’s competition documentary Traces of the Trade, in which the filmmaker confronts the revelation that one of her ancestors was one of America’s most prolific slave-traders in 18th-century New England. Taking nine relatives on a tour of Ghana and Cuba, Browne simultaneously takes us all on a journey through breast-beating white liberal guilt, with nary a single stylistic hook or insightful observation. Well, maybe one insightful observation: When a distant cousin comments to Browne that he’s afraid the whole endeavor is becoming “self-indulgent,” you want to hit a buzzer, Groucho-style, and congratulate him for hitting on the secret word.

An entirely different kind of black and white anchors the fascinating Frontier category entry Fear(s) of the Dark. This French-produced omnibus project brings together a handful of talented graphic artists for a series of animated shorts, all focused around horror or the supernatural, and all in shades of black, white and gray. As you’d expect of such a project, the entries are hit and miss, but two of them are stellar: Charles Burns’ chronicle of a nerd with unique girlfriend troubles, and Richard McGuire’s brilliant, dialogue-free story of a man seeking refuge from a blizzard in a haunted house. Creepy and stylistically vibrant, they’re the kind of filmmaking you want to see at a festival like this. And no “issues” are required. (Scott Renshaw)

Study Shows Utah Same-Sex Couples More Educated, Paid Less

[Study] The Williams Institute recently released a "census snapshot" report on demographics of same sex couples in Utah vs. the breeders. Their summary would indicate that while same sex couples are generally more educated than married heteros, gay men are paid less than straight men, and lesbians are paid less than gay and straight men.

The Williams Institute is a based out of UCLA and is devoted to studying sexual orientation and law and public policy. The report shows that the average gay man in a same sex couple has an individual average salary of $37,118 compared to a straight married man at $45,414.

For women in same sex relationships the average individual salary was $27,752 compared to $20,654 for straight women.

The numbers there are fascinating, on the one hand lesbians are out earning their straight counterparts but still remain far behind both gay and straight men.

Which is amusing to think that when you look at the numbers the biggest disparity here is still just male/female.

While it seems a glaring inequality that gay couples while more educated (37 percent of individuals in same sex relationship with a college degree compared to 26 percent of individuals in straight couples) are paid individually less, at least as a duo they are actually out earning straight couples.

The average median household income for same sex couples was $59,100 compared to $56,000 for married couples. What is really amazing however is the disparity between households with children. The average median income for a same sex household with children was $88,000 compared to $58,000 for married.

The numbers certainly are amazing and would seem to suggest there are distinct workplace inequalities going on. Rep. Christine Johnson, D-Salt Lake is actually hoping to bring forth an anti-discrimination bill this session that would extend existing nondiscrimination law to the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered community. But stay tuned to next week's issue to learn more about that... (Eric S. Peterson)

Sundance: Don't You Know Who I Am?!

[Film Fest Gossip] City Weekly received a hot, unverifiable-but-so-what tip just moments ago that a certain columnist for a Salt Lake daily newspaper was spotted at Sundance media-credentials headquarters in Park City throwing a virtual diva shit-fit because--oh, the humanity!--he couldn't yet pick up his bag of free swag! How is this journalist supposed to do his job without his New Line/Heineken bottle opener? Or his Fox Searchlight hand cream? This is unacceptable! Heads will roll! (Bill Frost)

SLAMMys: Week 2

[Local Music] I'm so excited about this weekend's SLAMMys showcases! Tonight, after a little Gallery Strollin', head over to Addicted Cafe for various takes on metal/hardcore with I Am the Ocean, God's Revolver and Tamerlane, plus a slammin' vegan sloppy joe! I know. I was skeptical too. But that shit is the shit!

After, get on down to Club Vegas for hard, harder and hardest rock with Accidente, Loom, Glacial, and Blackhole, and emcee/True TV superstar Bill Frost.

Here's a taste of what's to come tonight:



Tomorrow, enjoy the soothing sounds of Fuck the Informer, Andale!, and Monorchist at Bar Deluxe OR some solid "indie" and blues at Burt's with Downright Blue and Tolchock Trio--perhaps the strangest bill we could come up with, but hey, that's what happens when bands share members and can't play two shows at once. (Jamie Gadette)

Ron Paul Takes Dixie!

[Election 2008] Assuming Mitt Romney will be Utah's Republican presidential candidate of choice is a given right up there with knowing alco-pops are destined for State Liquor Stores and that Gold's Gym is a hotbed of steaming, sweaty smut ... but wait!

A straw poll held by St. George's Dixie Republican Forum on Tuesday elected ... Ron Paul! The results, as determined by citizens who live in the middle of a strip mall surrounded by golf courses (or vice-versa, depending on the part of town): Ron Paul: 28. Mitt Romney: 18. Alan Keyes: 7 (!). Fred Thompson: 5. John McCain: 5. Mike Huckabee: 2. Rudy Giuliani: 1. Tom Tancredo: 1.

That's right--Alan Keyes placed third, but probably only because Bo Gritz isn't in the running. (Bill Frost)

Sundance Day 2: Numb Faces, Dead Languages

[Film Fest] Park City is a stupid place for a world-class film festival.

Allow me to clarify that: Park City is a beautiful place. But it is at high altitude. It is January. It is approximately 8 degrees. It is snowing. The road conditions suck. And there will be thousands more people than the city was designed to support crowding those roads.

But here we all are, hoping that the quality of the films and the cinephile camaraderie make it all worthwhile. For a journalist, that could mean a dodgy first day, as the press screenings for the competition films generally don’t precede the first public screening. We get a shot at less buzzed-about entries, like the Spectrum category documentary The Linguists. It follows social scientists David Harrison and Gregory Anderson as they attempt to document the world’s dying languages: the native Siberian tongue Chulym; Native American Indian languages with speakers remaining in the single digits. At just 64 minutes, it doesn’t quite have enough time to develop its main characters, but their enthusiasm for their mission – including discovering a counting system improbably based on 20 and 12 simultaneously – helps carry the narrative.

And after all, isn’t the new and improbable what we’re all here plowing through the snow to discover? (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance: This Just In

[Fest Music] Anvil, the Toronto metal band that should taken over the world, is playing a night show at the Star Bar Jan. 21. Action starts at 8 p.m., but I'd get there early if I were you. I'd like to see Anvil battle Maroon 5 in the middle of Main Street. Come on! Let's see how well your action-hero moves play out in real time, Levine.

(Jamie Gadette)

Still Very Closed

[Just a Reminder] The hallowed Zephyr Club in downtown Salt Lake City has now been closed for four years, two months and change. The building's still standing; nothing new has moved in. It's not like SLC is hurting for live music venues (more SLAMMys tonight and tomorrow, shameless plug), but could someone at least rip it down or turn it into mini-condos so we don't have to be reminded of what a great joint we lost on Halloween 2003? Thanks. (Bill Frost)

Dead Confederate

My new favorite band

(Jamie Gadette)

Martin Luther King Jr. is Not Santa Claus

[Speech] Dr. Cornel West delivered a thundering speech today at the University of Utah's Martin Luther King day commemoration. West, a renegade scholar and social philosopher, owned the crowd after his first opening line "Utah, the sky, the mountains...traveling from New Jersey to Utah requires a paradigm shift."

A newcomer to the talk may very well have been blown away by the speech West delivered, at times hilarious, thrilling, calling to mind the memory of Martin Luther King Jr, in the same breath deconstructing the Latin roots of the word "human" and drawing forth a lesson about the blues in the process.

The lesson overall was about resurrecting King's memory and not subjecting it to as he called "Santa Claus-ification." West exhorted the packed house not to just drag out the memory of King as a sanitized holiday for expressing trite platitudes about civil rights.

In a speech that exemplified how West has come to be a rock star of modern philosophy, West invoked the ghost of Socrates to advance a painful dialogue about what American democracy is built upon. He even called forth the Socratic meditation on death as a call for Americans to meditate on death in America. Death of civic, spiritual and psychic life for people of color and society's marginalized.

To meditate on death in the Socratic spirit is to help reinvest dedication to life, and for this call of arms West wondered "how will you examine yourself as a human being, in time you will only be a culinary delight to the worms of this terrestrial earth, but who you are in between the womb and the tomb is what matters now."

West even commented on the nation's current grappling with terrorism in the middle east, arguing that people of color have struggled with terror for the last 400 years, and their response as a people has been to resist terror on principles of peace and nonviolence.

"Why after 400 years of racist terrorism has there been no black Al-Qaeda?" west asked adding "because as a people we have said 'I'm not getting into the gutter with the gangsters, I will take a higher, moral, spiritual ground."

The passion and revivalist electricity West brought to the crowd was amazing, and the sheer amount of name dropping of philosophers and novelists, blues artists and civil rights activists was enough to stun most of the crowd.

And I suspect the name dropping was enough to cause critics to scoff. In the past West has been a lightning rod for conservative critics who paint him as affirmative actions Frankenstein monster. A lightweight scholar using PC political clout to give him free rein to publish less and do more speaking engagements and cut hip-hop albums.

But I disagree. People forget West got into Harvard at 17, finished a degree in near eastern languages and civilization and went on to finish a degree in theology from Princeton where he now teaches. Theology ain't a field of study for lightweights, and as a student of philosophy myself I'm encouraged by the rambling scholar/activist approach West takes, which while might mean he writes fewer books to prop up the ivory tower as compared to some in academia, I'm encouraged that his activism- from political campaigning for candidates like Bill Bradley in 2000 (and soon Obama in South Carolina) to appearing on the Daily Show- is one founded in a unique philosophy of Rorty-esque neo-pragmatism, that bucks conventional and historical approaches to philosophy and scholarship.

But the greatest endorsement I thought was when at the beginning of his speech West thanked a former Harvard admissions director Chase Peterson, and former President of the University of Utah, "for a Mormon brother to take a chance on a 17 year old black brother like me from Sacramento California, I thank you again."

While West may be an academic diva, he's earned it in my book. (Eric S. Peterson)

Sundance Day 1: Umm, yeah ...

[Film Fest] So today marks the "official" beginning of the 2008 Sundance Film Festival -- to the extent that "official" means "there's a press conference attended by Robert Redford" and "there's one movie showing." That movie, In Bruges, is scheduled to open in Salt Lake City on Feb. 22. Forgive me if I take an extra evening with my family in lieu of a three-week head start.

For those getting ready to dive right in tomorrow, there's not much information available. In years past, City Weekly has published capsule reviews of several films available for preview, either from print screenings or DVD screeners. Publicists have subsequently decided that they are not so keen on early information over which they have no control, and have hidden most of the movies from view in someplace tightly sealed, like perhaps their sphincters. Those few that were made available came with the caveat that any "embargo-breaking" (review prior to the first official festival screening) would be dealt with most harshly. I am therefore forbidden from mentioning that the first 20 minutes of a movie the title of which may or may not be an anagram for Witch on Corn, is the kind of insufferable drivel that makes low-budget independent film look bad.

It can be useful, however, for people with delicate constitutions to know which Sundance films suit their sensibilities. After all, indie films are known for their "daring," and an unsuspecting viewer would not want to be confronted with a fusilade of F-bombs, or perhaps even Sir Ben Kingsley sucking an Olsen twin's face. As a public service, then, the festival provides a list of what it calls "High School Screening Program Films": those that have been deemed free and clear of most inappropriate content. For 2008, they include an adaptation of Lorraine Hansberry's A Raisin in the Sun, the Utah-shot entry Adventures of Power, and the documentaries Fields of Fuel, The Linguists, The Order of Myths, Traces of the Trade, I.O.U.S.A. and Stranded. Leave your outrage stowed safely in the overhead compartment. (Scott Renshaw)

Sticks & Stones

[Blogosphere] Maybe referring to Sen. Scott McCoy as a "Negative Nellie" was just a slip o' the keyboard for Trib crawler Glen Warchol--or maybe not.

There are some epithets, including "Nellie," that are reserved for use only by gays. Somebody should tell Warchol that before he refers to a female legislator as a "rug-muncher" or something.

(Brandon Burt)

Alcopops: OUT!

[Morals Watch] I can see the urge to hoard as I write this...long lines at Smith's to purchase whole cases of Mike's Hard Lemonade and Smirnoff Ice.

That's because it's official: The LDS Church has issued a statement in support of a 2008 Utah legislative effort to take -- yum -- alcopops off grocery store shelves. They're too inviting for the kids, you know. So the rest of the state has to suffer.

My idea of suffering is actually drinking one of those things. But it's the principle, people. Rise up and shout. Don't take this one lying down. 3.2 beer is next, isn't it?

If you've lived in Utah long, you know the rest of this story. As the faithful say: "When the prophet speaks, the debate is over." It's good as done.

Unless your write your legislator in protest. Or call. (E-mails are only good if they come from the heart. Don't start a spam war. Call or write to express your earnest rage. But be polite. No Mormon bashing comments.) Go here to find your rep and his/her phone number and e-mail address. Launch your protest. Today. (Holly Mullen)

Daffy for Dutcher

[Media] With the release of Falling, the SLC press is tripping over itself to pimp "father of Mormon Cinema" Richard Dutcher. He's everywhere this week, but City Weekly had him back in October. As for the reviews of Falling, they go like this:

"It's dark!"

"It's really dark!"

"It's really fetchin' dark!"

"Daaark!"

A dark peek at Falling:



(Bill Frost)

Keeping things in perspective

[Raucous Caucuses] Excited about a Mitt Romney surge? Worried about a John Edwards slump?

Relax. There's no such thing.

Even though the primaries have hardly started, the media tend to focus on every front-loaded podunk caucus like the candidates' lives are at stake. No dog in this race has a lead with any statistical significance yet, even if the current party "frontrunners" (Hillary and Mitt) like to play up the "momentum" they've supposedly gained from having a slightly higher number of delegates than their opponents.

Here's a little chart I made based on scorecard data from CNN.com. Having a hard time seeing how many delegates your favorite candidate has? That's because no candidate has any to speak of yet.


A candidate would need 2,025 Democratic delegates or 1,991 Republican delegates to win his or her party's nomination. Even Hillary Clinton's "decisive" lead amounts to a mere 4 percent advantage over Barak Obama and a 7 percent advantage over John Edwards.

And Mitt Romney's big lead over Mike Huckabee and John McCain? About 3 percent.

Don't get me wrong--none of this should be misconstrued in a way that might encourage Ron Paul fans. But the whole reason small states like Iowa and New Hampshire have their caucuses early is because there would be no reason to pay attention to them otherwise.

(Brandon Burt)

It's Mormon Times

[Newspapers] Here in the small, small world of Salt Lake City media, we've been aware for months of the Deseret Morning News' plan to launch a new Web site, Mormon Times. Yup, honest, it's really called that. For the rest of you, official news of the site broke a few days ago.

Of course, God's newspaper can do what it wants, and it always does. But I do get a little pang of nostalgia when I remember back to my first real newspaper job, as a cub reporter in 1981, at what was then the Deseret News. I promise not to go all weepy and memory lane on you, but there was a time in that publication's history when even the power brokers at the LDS mother ship on 50 E. North Temple were mostly content to offer readers a newspaper wide in scope, diverse in coverage and driven to do investigative journalism with little fear of political or religious repercussions. (Interestingly, the vaunted three-person investigative reporting team in the '70s and early '80s was two-thirds non-Mormon)

So. Well. Times change. An editor who once served as a busy Washington D.C. lobbyist, whose brother is a sitting congressman and who never worked for a newspaper before calls the shots now. Just like every other newspaper, the DMN is fighting to survive in an electronic age. Whatever works. It's just ... sad.

(Holly Mullen)

This Just In

Tonight marks the 5th anniversary of The Trapp Door's "Dance Evolution" with host Stephine Sims & special guest legendary film director and gay icon Bruce La Bruce. Artist Jared Knight will also be displaying new works. Proceeds benefit David Ashton, a local regular who recently had open heart surgery. $5 cover at the door. Avoid the early Sundance crowds and shake your booty for a good cause.

(Jamie Gadette)

What a Drag!

[The Candidates] How can it be that so many people are still unaware that Rudy Giuliani not only couch-surfed with a gay couple during his term as NYC mayor, but also has a drag act?

I mentioned this fun fact during a recent editorial discussion and so many people looked surprised and puzzled that I was worried I had gotten my Big Apple mayors mixed up. Maybe it was Bloomberg? Certainly not Dinkins ... although, come to think of it, I've seen a guy at the Trapp who looks suspiciously like Ed Koch in a dress.

The fact that a drag queen has made it so far in the Republican primaries doesn't come up in breathless "the times they are a-changin'" columns nearly as often as Hillary Clinton's sex and Barak Obama's ethnic background. (Frankly, there still seem to be a lot of racist, sexist, intolerant jerks around, so I'll withhold my own verdict on "the times" until Nov. 5.)

Still, for a straight guy, Giuliani's got a decent grasp of camp--so, for me, it's a case of love the sin; hate the sinner. (Brandon Burt)

A Most Exalted Candidate

[Holy Politics] Don't look now, but there's a very dark horse in the 2008 presidential race.

Though the candidate and his supporters might argue with the word "dark" in describing him.

Stephen Heffner, indentifying himself as "convention manager" sent me a press release (delivered via snail mail today, no less) advertising his Jan. 7 launch of Jesusin2008.com

When it comes to a campaign for Jehovah, Heffner wants everyone to know the Web site is not religious (bold face emphasis his). It's just like the GOP and Democratic conventions, for heaven's sake.

Heffner adds the JC in '08 campaign is also looking for your suggestions on who would make an appropriate vice presidential candidate. Hmmm. I dunno. Maybe Mike Huckabee? (Holly Mullen)

Guv Going Green With the National Climate Registry

[Green Vibes] Gov. Huntsman back in May of 2007 happily signed onto a 30+ state green coalition called the Climate Registry. Now that the program has officially gotten started Huntsman has announced five Utah companies (including Kennecott) and two state agencies will be taking part in the great, green experiment.

With over 30 states participating, the idea will be to have a registry to track greenhouse gas emissions, and create a standard for the industry to follow and self regulate themselves on their GHG emissions.

The idea sounds enviro-riffic to me!

But ... my inner contrarian points out there are some shortcomings. One thing is that "self-regulating" is not something any industry as a whole has really pinned down, least not of all when it comes to the environment. The other thing is a concern brought up by critic Myron Ebell, of an energy policy think tank who figured the whole move was symbolic. Ebell said in a May 2007 The Nation article Ebell was quoted as saying "you look at these states and a lot of them are just jumping up and down trying to attract a lot of attention."

Ebell imagines the registry as something meant to force the national congress into a more concerted action. But beyond symbolic feet-stamping the initiative might not do much for states working with each other on a regional level. Beyond joining a common list, the initiative can't do much to help states work out their energy issues. Which would've been nice here in Utah where frustrated activists are finding they don't have much say when it comes to stopping a Nevada power plant from being put on the UT/NV border.

But as a united effort the initiative wouldn't necessarily be impotent. If for example the standards became widespread, and were subject to independent verification then there would be a huge incentive for the national house to accept the registry's standards. With voluntary standards reported through the climate registry then used as a measuring stick for federal rewards to individual states and companies, based on their reported progress in reducing greenhouse emissions.

Which could be a great way to harmonize the collective green-vibes of all the states involved, of course, what to do with all those green intentions still will be the decision of the feds. The only problem there being is that an initiative like this one is one that any federal legislator would eat up with a spoon because they can stand behind in their home state and then secretly screw it over in Washington. Then they get all the green they could ask for; green thumbs up from activists back home, and plenty of green dead presidents from the energy lobbyists on the hill. (Eric S. Peterson)

Welcome to World-Mart

[Global Conspiracy] According to WorldNetDaily.com, Utah's own's Sen. Bob Bennett is one of the masterminds behind a seven-year plan to create a Transatlantic Common Market between the U.S. and Europe--and it wouldn't require congressional approval!

"The plan--currently being implemented by the Bush administration with the formation of the Transatlantic Economic Council in April 2007--appears to be following a plan written in 1939 by a world-government advocate who sought to create a Transatlantic Union as an international governing body," says WND. "An economist from the World Bank has argued in print that the formation of the Transatlantic Common Market is designed to follow the blueprint of Jean Monnet, a key intellectual architect of the European Union, recognizing that economic integration must inevitably lead to political integration."

In simpler terms, "One World Guv'ment!" To which Sen. Bennett reportedly replied, "Exxxcellent." (Bill Frost)

Headline Writing 101

[Media] Some news items deserve to be separate

Don't do drugs, kids. Don't have unprotected sex. And take care of your appendix?

(Jamie Gadette)

Not Showing at Sundance

[Voting] Utah's Bruce Funk is a movie star. The former Emery County clerk whose questioning of voting machines led to his ouster from office is profiled in a new movie, Uncounted, put out by those who want to convince you that elections are being stolen.

The folksy, soft spoken Funk was featured in City Weekly articles after he tussled with Emery County and state election officials over electronic voting machines in 2006 (Ghost in the Machine, and Election Defection). In Uncounted, he is profiled as one of several “heroes” the film tells us have stood up against dark forces trying to deny Americans their right to vote.

Uncounted is showing in a few California theaters this month. It will also be shown at the Durango Film Festival in Colorado. Director David Earnhardt, a documentary filmmaker, is also hawking DVD copies on a Website, UncountedTheMovie.com.

The film’s premise isn’t new among voting conspiracy buffs: the presidential election in 2004 and congressional elections in 2006 were stolen, and more fraud “looms as an unbridled threat to the outcome of the 2008 election.”

It's hard to watch the film and not become a little convinced there is indeed a conspiracy. Uncounted has all the plot lines—including a segment about a man who invented the world’s greatest voting machine … only to die in a mysterious accident before his democracy-saving company could get off the ground.

Uncounted also includes the story of a computer expert who told a congressional committee that he was paid by a prominent George W. Bush supporter to create voting machine software that could switch votes from one candidate to another.

But the film’s most convincing segments aren’t those devoted to the alleged terrors of computerized voting. Rather, the film works best when it rehashes the well worn stories of voters—mostly poor or minority—who appear to have been systematically denied a vote during elections of 2004 and 2006.

There are the stories of would-be voters turned away at the polls through what seem like obvious attempts at voter suppression (like having just one polling place in poor parts of town or telling people to vote in the wrong neighborhood). There is the famous 2004 Ohio exit polling showing victory for Al Gore.

Some anti-voting machine buffs had trouble sticking to their conspiracy theory after the 2006 mid-term elections, which were won by Democrats. (The Democrats shouldn’t have won if the Bushies had fixed the elections through friends in the voting machine companies.)

Uncounted’s answer to the dilemma: Democrats would have won the 2006 elections by much wider margins had the fix not been in. The film examines polling data and examples of vote counting irregularities to support the idea.

Utah’s Funk serves as a bookend to the story. To recap: Funk was the man in charge of elections in Emery County when new electronic voting machines were delivered. Funk noticed the machines giving weird readouts and called in computer experts to check it out.

The geeks who Funk brought to town were from Black Box Voting, a group of prominent electronic voting critics, and Black Box splashed their visit to rural Utah all over the Internet. It was the first time a government elections official had allowed Black Box to hack into an official voting machine and Black Box claimed it had exposed vulnerabilities in the Utah boxes. (Utah state election officials, who purchased the machines for counties, denied the claims.)

Soon after the episode, executives of the voting machine company were in town and meeting privately with Emery County commissioners and state election officials. At the end of the meetings, Funk was out on his ear. There is still debate about whether or not Funk voluntarily resigned.

In the year since the Funk fiasco, several counties across the country have scrapped voting machines—some even returning to paper ballots—citing security flaws like those Black Box claimed to have found in the Emory County machines.

To the folks who made Uncounted, the Funk saga is evidence of nefarious private corporations taking over our democracy. One of the film’s final scenes is Funk, presumably at his ranch, tending animals and looking out into the sunset. (Ted McDonough)

Hip-Hop: From SLC to TV

[Radio & TV] Another reality show? Oh yeah. Now, even Salt Lake City hip-hop station U92 has its own behind-the-scenes series--well, sort of.

A pilot that "follows the drama of the only hip-hop station in one of the most conservative states in the country. Viewers will finally see what happens when the microphones are turned off and how a radio station in Utah is breaking new music before major cities such as Los Angeles and New York City" has been produced; The Station is now being pitched to networks. If the writers' strike continues, could happen--and, even though the premise seems a bit thin to support a weekly series, the characters seen here could carry it. Easily.

The Station pilot:


So, why does the logo look like a middle-finger salute? (Bill Frost)

Michigan Primary Primer

[Election 2008] In contrast to everyone else, here's what you probably don't need to know about the Republican presidential candidates in tonight's Michigan Primary ...

Mitt Romney


John McCain


(Bill Frost)

Sundance: Star Bar At Night

[Music] If you've never been to, or perhaps never even heard of, the Star Bar you're not alone. The Park City private club typically only opens on special occasions, namely during Sundance when the below-ground venue transforms into an intimate stomping grounds for filmmakers, publicists, composers and yes, killer bands. Credential holders are invited to attend the afternoon/early evening Music Cafe shows which allows a lucky few to catch acts like Silversun Pickups and The Bird & The Bee up close and personal. At night, the Star Bar takes down the semi-velvet rope for several concerts open to the public. This year's lineup is as follows:

Thursday, Jan. 17
Slamdance Opening Party
M1 of Dead Prez
Umi of P.O.W.
DJ Joro Boro
Emcee Sick of Pseudo Slang
Uprok DJs

Friday, Jan. 18
Sub Pop Showcase
Kelley Stoltz
The Helio Sequence
Daniel Martin Moore

Saturday, Jan. 19
Private Party

Sunday, Jan. 20
Rabbit & The Moon

Tuesday, Jan. 22
Butch Walker
Will Bailey
Dusty Rhodes & The River Band

Wednesday , Jan. 23
Tim Williams
Everest
Dirty Sweet

Friday, Jan 25
The Ruby Release (formerly Johnny Walker’s Dead Horses)
Oliver Future
Roman Numerals

(Jamie Gadette)

But We Don't Even Own a Pornograph!

[Smut News] Writes one surprised online reader of City Weekly, "I was recently blocked from accessing the City Weekly during lunch break at work, as your website is classified as "pornography" by our web filter (administered by eSafe). I tried to regain access by reclassifying it. Clearly the administrators of iss.net/eSafe have found content I seem to be missing out on on your website ..."

Have you been blocked from SLWeekly.com by your office's filters? More importantly, have you discovered porn on our site? We'd love to know where it is ... (Bill Frost)

Party Across The Street From Fashion Place Mall

[Local Music] January 12 (that would be last Saturday) marked night two of City Weekly's SLAMMys showcases. There were many appealing shows that evening, but I decided to head to the Huka Bar & Grill to check out one of the alt-country gigs. I arrived after 10 pm, so I missed the High Beams (damn!), but I did get to see the Black-Eyed Susans. B-ES played a solid set to a largely distracted audience, but it was still a good time. You gotta love an Alt-country band with a chick bassist. AND a singer who actually wears cowboy boots.

There's plenty of SLAMMys fun on the horizon, and I urge you all to come out and see what Salt Lake City's robust local music scene has to offer. Seriously... what else is there to do in the middle of winter? (Jenny Poplar)

The Tower! The Tower!

[Random Pix] Craig Kelley sent us these photos of the new weather tower going up atop the Walker Center Building in downtown Salt Lake City: "I was at work in the Walker building on Saturday (1/12) and saw pieces of the faux radio-tower going past my office window. I snapped a few of them, which may just be cool enough to make it into the 'Snapped' page at some point in the future." Maybe they will; for now, they're on the Salt Blog.

As for the tower, the forecasts will be simple: Blue lights are good, Red lights are bad. Of course, if you're outside, this may already be evident--but hey, viva architecture!

(Bill Frost)

Keen Insight

[Interview/Concert Review] I've never been to a concert where an audience chanted the performer's name demanding an encore. But on Jan. 18 at Harry O's, the crowd stomped their feet, chanting "Robert Earl Keen! Robert Earl Keen!" over and over until the man stepped back on stage.

It was the culmination of more than two hours filled with music, laughter and lyrics everyone could sing to. Lyrics like “The road goes on forever / and the party never ends,” have made Keen’s song by the same name exceptionally popular. “I never thought it’d become an anthem,” Keen explained in a pre-show interview. “I sat down and wrote it in a fit of passion.”

But those cool, anthem-like lyrics belie this modern Bonnie-and-Clyde tale. “I like the idea of the chivalrous man and woman who are survivors,” Keen said. It’s easy to believe, given Keen’s love of great writing and degree in English.

The audience was going crazy before Keen—who took the stage in a cowboy hat and suit jacket—had even played a chord. Soon they were singing along, jumping up and down with fists in the air. Keen even broke mid-song for a poetry slam. “Lubbock, Texas is not like Park City…we don’t have trees in Lubbock, Texas…” It’s great because it’s real.

Keen’s songs could be dismissed as cowboy poetry, but it’s hardly an accurate description. He’s thoughtful about his process, explaining, “I look at great writers and think, ‘This is how the great writers put it together.’” And it’s the tone and visuals that tend to stick with him, so his songs are also filled with images, not run-of-the-mill emotions. They’re passionate, relating all the best parts of Middle America. It’s made his fans devoted, adoring and lively. It’s what makes them chant for more, even though they’ve been dancing, singing and stomping for more two hours. (Tawnya Cazier)

Someone Who'll Watch Over Me

[Theater Review] I'm a "less-is-more" kind of guy. Whereas much contemporary live theater seems to be taking Hollywood’s lead with big special effects, gauche gimmicks and stunt casting, Pinnacle Acting Company has chosen to go the other way with their production of Frank McGuinness’s Someone Who'll Watch Over Me. The show is a testament to the simple power of talented actors working with a good script in an intimate space. It's everything that live theater can and should be.

An Irishman, and Englishman and an American are being held hostage in Beirut. No, it’s not a bad joke; it’s three men chained by the ankle to cinder blocks in the middle of a room. We see them traverse the full spectrum of human emotional terrain from boredom to visceral grief to dark and absurd humor as they all go a little bit mad. I swear, you will never laugh so hard at a play about fundamentalist terrorism.

The fewer-than-50 seats in the theater are arranged on either side of the not-quite stage in facing rows. In this unusual configuration, no patron is ever more than a few feet from an actor; high drama plays out quite literally at your feet. More than once, I had to lean back because I was afraid I had invaded an actor’s personal space. I almost kicked somebody.

All of this came together to create one of the best theater-going experiences I’ve had in a long time. With not quite a whole year behind them, Pinnacle Acting Company has a bright future—assuming they continue to stick to the basics.

Someone Who’ll Watch Over Me concludes its run Jan. 17-19 at Sugar Space, located at 616 E. Winchester (2190 South). (Rob Tennant)

SLAMMys Action: What You Missed

[Local Music] City Weekly's SLAMMys kicked off Friday night with an evening of Salt Lake City hip hop at Monk's, a club which over the years has transitioned from a "house of jazz" to an equal opportunity venue hosting any artist who is not paralyzed by fear, constantly considering how the Walker Center might hold up in an earthquake and whether one could possibly make it to the elevator shaft in time to prevent being buried alive in a smoke-filled basement. What? You never thought about that?

Ogden producer Linus opened the showcase with his catchy self-made beats, the origin of which was lost on many audience members who thought the short kid in the 2612 skate shop T-shirt was just some DJ spinning records. Fresh-faced guest emcee Task set things straight and continued to baffle everyone by absolutely killing with a song about bad relationships, while clad in a Ron Paul for President shirt.

Mindstate followed, but not before showcase emcees Mugshots reminded everyone that they were not nominated for a SLAMMy, then demonstrated their skills on the mic persuading people to give the duo props. So write them in if you agree. Mindstate sounded great, though admittedly they achieved even greater heights a few months back during a street corner performance outside Red Light Books and Ken Sanders. Just one DJ, one emcee and a microphone. That's all this duo needs to get things done, son. On Friday, we were a bit worried about Dusk 1 whose face got redder and redder as he spouted off one rhyme after another. It seemed at any moment his head might explode. The kid puts everything he has into each song and is entertaining as hell to watch.

Numbs closed out the evening, a bit thrown off by the glaring lights Comcast set up to film the showcase. "Four songs and those lights go off," the collective proclaimed, then jumped right into their signature tag-team rhymes. DJ Shanty once again proved his prowess behind the ones and twos with inventive beats that helped catapult the three emcees through their party-pleasing set. On question: Did anyone else think that one of the Numbs bore a striking resemblance to Mystery, that dude from The Pick-Up Artist? Maybe the leather armbands threw me off.

An awesome start to SLAMMys and a great reminder to a rocker at heart what it's like to step outside your comfort zone. I encourage everyone to do the same for the next few weeks. Now get out there and vote! (Jamie Gadette)

Fun With Conflicts of Interest

[Politics] This week's cover of City Weekly focused on some of the legislature's most grievious conflicts of interest when it comes to legislators legislating with their personal profit in my mind. In another article Ted McDonough highlighted some potential ethics reforms coming up, and pointed out that currently legislators have to vote on every bill that comes up.

These articles beg the question of why we even have conflict of interest forms? As it stands now the forms act only a a resource to the public. One I doubt is very much utilized. But then again there is a very real reason why. We just can't be bothered.

These records for the most part are all online nowadays, convenient?...well it could be.

But let's face it as a generation becoming very adept at surfing the web, we've all been conditioned to focus on websites with smooth, sleek and accessible links and features. With most web based business betting their entire fortunes on sleek websites, it's no wonder that we've been conditioned to gravitate towards a functional and aesthetic web layout-and to bounce fast from ones less user-friendly.

Now that being said...go check out the Utah state legislature website.

You'll find the House Conflict of Interest forms under the House bar. Ok simple enough, now try and find the senate conflict of interest forms. You'd think they'd be under that senate tab right? Well turns out your wrong.

For more fun try checking out financial disclosure for candidates on the state election site. Think it would be listed under "Financial Disclosures"? Well that's a good, intuitive guess...but ultimately wrong.

Now for the ultimate exercise in websurfing frustration take any one of the vague and anonymously listed Political Action Committee's from a candidate's disclosure report and then try and go find any info for that lobbyist group on the state election offices Lobbyist registry.

If you can do that inside of 20 minutes I'll buy you a beer.

Hmm, let me hedge my bets a little bit, if you can find that info out in 20 minutes without whispering under your breath "what the fuck?" as you navigate these labrynth like websites--then I'll buy you a beer* (Eric S. Peterson)

*Not a real offer folks, besides isn't doing your civic duty reward enough?

Stop! SLAMMys Time

[Local Music] Not sure what to do this weekend? Don't worry! Starting tonight, City Weekly kicks off our annual SLAMMys issue with five weeks of showcases highlighting some of the best and brightest local bands Utah has to offer. We'll keep you posted on the haps with show reviews and voting updates as the month progresses. Get in on the action!

Go to SLWeekly.com to purchase a pass ($20) for entrance into ALL 19 shows and the closing party @ The Depot* on Feb. 15. Or, pay $5 per show.

Friday, Jan 11
MONK'S* Hosted by Uprok Records
Linus
Mindstate
The Numbs

Three shows Saturday, Jan 12
Area 51 18+ Hosted by Jesse James of Redemption and Tragic Black
Domiana
Q Stands for Q
Carphax Files

Huka Bar* Hosted by Corey O'Brien from X96
The High Beams
Black Eyed Susan

Cisero's* Hosted by Brinton Jones of Palomino
Atherton
Marcus Bently
Band of Annuals

* Private Club For Members

See you there (Jamie Gadette)