GoGo Morrow has accompanied Marsha Ambrosius on multiple dates of the latter’s Friends & Lovers Tour. The dynamic performer has wowed concertgoers at Philly’s TLA, Washington, D.C.’s Howard Theatre, and Baltimore’s Baltimore Soundstage with her captivating performances and stage presence. Her single, “Private Dancer”, has been a crowd favorite at all the venues GoGo has graced during her time on the tour.
Dir. Jonathan Glazer
Atmospheric darkness is a character unto itself Jonathan Glazer’s nervy, sci-fi thriller. Figures emerge from and spill into pitch blackness as a matter of course, and the film even opens from black with only a small pinprick of light in the center of the frame. Glazer’s film plays a bit like noir, with a comely, hard-edged dame making eyes at various weak-willed men with a fearsome ulterior purpose in mind, but where this avant-garde film ends up taking them is somewhere altogether unexpected.
The dame in this case is Scarlett Johansson, who plays Laura, a mysterious, dark haired alien form, arrived at Earth (or, perhaps constructed here, it remains unclear) to skulk the streets of Edinburgh in a white van, searching for men foolish enough to think she could be sexually interested in them. She takes them to a remote brick building somewhere on the outskirts of town and leads them into one of the film’s many pitch black rooms. There she casually begins to strip, still walking away from them, and they each follow suit, stripping down and hurrying towards her before the shimmering, mirror like surface beneath their feet turns viscous liquid, sending them deep into a oily tomb.
Just why this is all necessary is never explained. Nor is Laura’s true purpose — other than to ensnare men, lead them into her lair, and deposit their bodies into the vat of liquid. The film is based on the equally baffling novel by Michael Faber, but to dwell overly on the film’s many unanswered questions is to perhaps miss the billowing trees in the beautifully dour Scottish forest.
With very little dialogue, absolutely none of which could be termed “expository,” Glazer and his skilled production team, working off a script he co-wrote with Walter Campbell, give us just enough hints of the story to follow along with reasonable clarity. Relying on a sort of narrative archetype — the humanoid who first simply apes the beings it’s trying to emulate before finally succumbing to the emotion of human empathy, and going on the lam from its merciless handlers — Glazer needs never give us full explanations for the plot, such as it is, to hang together.
And to be sure, Glazer, who earned deserved high praise for Sexy Beast back in 2000, is working from the sacred texts of the avant-garde sci-fi films of yore, calling to mind such equally stunning and perplexing films as 2001, The Man Who Fell to Earth, and Liquid Sky (the latter, a bizarre tale about aliens coming to Earth and discovering the power of human sexuality, could have been a source text). The beauty in the form is the creative, visionary power of the genre: If one is to witness things that have not been invented yet, in a time that has not yet taken place, you need to be able to take a monstrous leap of imagination, which offers daring filmmakers like Glazer the opportunity to really push the limits of cinematic storytelling.
Aiding greatly his cause is lead Scarlett Johansson, who uses the film as a vehicle to show her burgeoning versatility and highlight her welcome lack of Hollywood starlet vanity you might expect from a woman so praised for her beauty. Driving at night alone in a van, she attempts to pick up men in order to trick them into the pitch black room. Reportedly, many of these scenes were unscripted, shooting with non-actors using hidden cameras (a sort of twist on the infamous drive-and-pick-up bit with Burt Reynolds and Heather Graham towards the sad end of Paul Thomas Anderson’s Boogie Nights). In these scenes, Johansson turns from stone-faced alien to full-bodied Hollywood charm bracelet in a flash. The non-actor men, naturally, have no inkling they’re talking to a world-renowned Hollywood sex symbol, until it’s far too late for them to do anything about it.
The seduction scenes in the reflective black room are also revelatory, and not just in the sense that Johansson repeatedly strips down for them. As attractive as she is, she appears very close to attainable, almost Rubinesque, flat-footed and pale, staring at the men impassively as they slowly sink down — erections still intact — into the shimmering liquid. As much as she’s on-screen, this isn’t a glamour shoot, but having a star of her caliber and fame, tooling around Scotland, speaking off-the-cuff with wholly unsuspecting rubes is most certainly an artistic coup. As distinctive as the film’s visual poetics are, Johansson carries the film on her slender shoulders.
Just what everything means can be happily debated by starry-eyed cinemaphiles for years to come, in yet another example of a film we should all be thankful got made in the first place, entirely due to Glazer’s enormous dedication to the project: He was reportedly working on it for more than a decade. The result of his tireless efforts is a hauntingly effective vision, laced with a slender undercurrent of emotional viability that gets its hooks solidly into you. After all, just because something melts into darkness doesn’t mean you can’t still feel its presence after its gone.
Uristocrat cordially invites you to Ms Tootsies for Uristocrat Relays. For 8 years, we have provided the most exemplary events to celebrate Penn Relays, Spring Fling, UPenn x Temple Homecoming and Philly Greek Weekend. For the celebration of Penn Relays, we bring you Uristocrat Relays feat. Kev Storey, Uristocrat and Philadelphia’s greatest audio connoisseur, DJ R “ToDA” IZZA
feat. Exclusive access to VIP with Table reservations
@ Ms Tootsies
@ 1312 South St,
Philadelphia, PA 19147
w. Your Most Splendid Sartorial Execution requested.
The oldest and largest track and field competition in the United States, hosted annually since April 21, 1895 by the University of Pennsylvania at Franklin Field, we take this past history of excellence to the next level and request your presence at Ms. Tootsies Saturday April 26th 2014.
This is for the Urban Aristocrats, those who want the unparalleled experience of celebrating with the original Flap Stars. This for the sartorially inclined, the high achievers, the self motivated, the go getters, the ones who want an experience like no other.
PS: as always, there is no literal dress code; however, your most splendid sartorial execution is required. We reserve to the right to make judgment calls based on style and execution
As part of the 4th Annual Philly Tech Week at Sigma Sound Studios, the dynamic night featured interviews and presentations surrounding the theme of “The Future of Music & Technology” with the soundtrack provided by DJ Phsh from Illvibe Collective and DJ MICK who spun sets before in-between, and after the presentations.
Highlights included an insightful interview and audience Q&A with Kyle “KP” Reilly (Dat-Piff) by Philly Radio Station WXPN host and personality Bruce Warren, a presentation from MyChannel – the Philadelphia based content-sharing website on which users can create and share their customized channels and independently promote their brand, and an in-depth discussion hosted by media personality Quincy “Q-Deezy” Harris with Grouchy Greg from AllHipHop.com - a top internet destination for all things related to Hip-Hop culture.
Be sure to check your inbox because Heineken Green Room has a full slate of entertainment coming up this Spring and Summer.
What do Shepard Fairey, Cosmo Baker and Union Transfer all have in common? The Mural Arts OFF-THE-WALL BALL fundraiser. Yup, here’s your chance to come party with Philly’s own Cosmo Baker and street art bohemeth Shepard Fairey while they spin tunes at the absolute must-attend after party of The Mural Arts annual Wall Ball Gala
This extraordinary event will take place from 9:30-12:00am Thursday, May 29, 2014 at Union Transfer and will be hosted by Mural Arts’ Young Friends Collective.
Tickets are $35 and include a drink ticket and light bites throughout the night.
All proceeds from this year’s OFF-THE-WALL BALL fundraiser will
go directly to Philadelphia’s First International Street Art Exhibition in 2015.
Tickets $35 Online/$40 Day-of
(includes (1) drink ticket and light bites)
Murals Arts Wall Ball
Thursday, May 29th 2014
Tickets $35 online / $40 day of
(includes (1) drink ticket and light bites)
Dir. Carlos Saldanha
Do CEOs of huge conglomerated companies simply not have any children? If they do, what do you suppose they go to when they take their kids to the movies? They surely can’t take them to the standard Hollywood animated kids’ flick: Almost universally, huge, autonomous corporations are the catalyst for everything that goes wrong in the characters’ lives. Consider: In WALL-E, we had the diabolical Buy N Large Corp.; in The Lorax, it was the now-regretful Once-ler and his family’s corporation; and in Coudy With a Chance of Meatballs 2 the culprit (as usual) was Live Corp. Not saying we should shed any tears for these people — I mean, with their annual take home and bonuses, they could probably just film their own animated specials if they so chose — but it’s got to be difficult to take the kids to a Saturday matinee and have them cheering for the giant, evil corporation to go down in flames before the first box of Sour Patch kids has even been opened.
This film, the inevitable follow-up to the mildly amusing original, involving a squadron of extremely rare blue Macaws facing off against an illegal logging operation in the Amazon rainforest, is hardly an exception (though at least the evil concern here appears to be run by a single wealthy man and not a huge company of suits). After all, if any child does even a modicum of research online about stripping the Amazon, they will quickly find out the names of the faceless multi-national conglomerates behind the real razing of the forest.
As far as the film is concerned, we start several years after domesticated Macaw Blu (Jesse Eisenberg) has found Jewel (Anne Hathaway), the love of his life, in Rio. They have started a family with three hatchlings, one young female who is wise and practical, one wild male who loves practical jokes, and one teen (?) female who finds everything lame. As the film begins, Blu’s former owners, the naturalists Tulio (Rodrigo Santoro) and Linda (Leslie Mann), accidentally discover a flock of the ultra rare blue macaws deep in the jungle, the very same jungle that an evil oligarch (Miguel Ferrer), is presiding over his illegal logging operation.
You can pretty much see where this is headed: Jewel prompts Blu, their family, and ultimately several of their friends, including Pedro (Will i Am) and Nico (Jamie Foxx) to head to the jungle in order to meet with this strange new flock. It turns out, this flock is lead by Jewel’s father, (Andy Garcia), long separated from his daughter by some previous altercation with human beings. As a result, he’s distrustful of them, which flies directly in the fact of Blu’s willful domesticity (he insists on carrying around a fanny pack filled with human entrapments such as breath mints, tooth paste, a GPS and a swiss-army knife). Meanwhile, just to complicate things further, Blu’s arch enemy, the dulcet toned Nigel (Jermaine Clement), reduced to flightlessness in the previous film, tracks down his adversary in the jungle along with his friend, Gabi (Kristen Chenoweth), a poisonous frog who is madly in love with him, seeking hearty revenge.
The film never much rises above the bare minimum of what is expected out of it: There are lots of the same sorts of jokes floating around, mostly concerning Blu’s neurotic ineptness when it comes to living in the wild, and nearly every character that got play in the original is dutifully rolled out to get their quick laugh-lines, but the whole enterprise feels less than inspired. It could be the plotting, which is all too quick to get to the point without adding any truly unexpected element; it could also be that writer Yoni Brenner, working from a story by Don Rhymer and director Carlos Saldanha simply didn’t have all that much else to say about the characters than what was already covered in the original. It’s not without its minor charms (the colorful animation sequences are easy to take for granted in this day and age, but there are still some shots set in the Amazon that are visually pretty stunning), but it never bothers to expand on anything beyond it’s previous scope, other than to add the three fairly banal kids into the mix.
In place of real inspiration, then, the writers have resorted to a heavy-handed moral approach with the material. Don’t get me wrong, as a concerned environmentalist, I’m happy to have more propaganda decrying the destroying of the rain forest for kids to have to ponder, but it feels a good deal less impassioned than a necessary cog in order to turn the plot crankwheel a few more revolutions.
To test the theory, I asked my daughter and her friend, the two adorable 8-year-olds I brought with me to the press screening, to tell me what the lesson of the film might have been. My daughter was unsure what I meant by “lesson” (which maybe suggests something about me as a parent), but her friend thought for a few seconds and then suddenly brightened: “That everybody gets along?” she said. Back to the drawing board, enviro-friendly screenwriters.
The Food Trust has announced its 2014 Night Market dates and locations. The first night market for 2014 will be on Thursday, May 15th, in Old City. Subsequent Night Markets will be held in June, August and October.
- Old City- May 15th, 2014
- West Oak Lane – June 19th, 2014
- Lancaster Ave @ 35th St – August 21st, 2014
- Chinatown- October 2nd, 2014
Night Market Philadelphia is the city’s premier street food festival, a roving food event spotlighting Philly’s best ethnic and regional restaurants and food trucks. Inspired by Asia’s lively outdoor markets, our events celebrate up-and-coming neighborhoods and showcase Philadelphia’s diverse food and drinks and vibrant arts and culture scene.
The first Night Market took place in East Passyunk in 2010. Since its debut, The Food Trust has hosted twelve Night Markets, attracting over 200,000 attendees and more than 300 food vendors to neighborhoods across the city, including University City, Northern Liberties, West Oak Lane, Washington Avenue, Mt. Airy, Fairmount, South Street, and Chinatown, and attracting local and national attention to Philadelphia’s food scene.
New York Times: “Best way to experience Philadelphia’s still surging street food scene”
Details: “Top 5 Nighttime Markets in the Nation”
Budget Travel : “The Five Hottest New Foodie Trends in the US: Night Markets”
The Food Trust works with community partners throughout the city – including East Passyunk Business Improvement District, University City District, Mt. Airy USA, Philadelphia Chinatown Development Corporation, Ogontz Avenue Revitalization Corporation, Northern Liberties Neighbors Association, Bella Vista United Civic Association, South Street Headhouse District, and the South 9th Street Business Men’s Association – to host the roving festival.
Source: Night Market
Dir. Mike Flanagan
All film genres have their tropes; it’s just that horror has them posted like large, bobbing buoys in a restless sea. From watching countless such flicks, we can extrapolate the following to be self-evident:
pets = dead
skeptics = proven wrong
moving into a new house = huge mistake
approaching ghostly visages in skimpy nightie = only acceptable method
man left alone to write = very bad idea
antique black cedar mirror = big trouble
This isn’t to suggest Mike Flanagan’s occult thriller is some lazy, rote dog of convenience. The film is carefully observed and actually pretty creepy — but it’s difficult to see it, and many other films of its ilk, and not get distracted by all the connections to the films like it that have come before.
In order to really unsettle an audience, you need to pull their collective chairs out from under them: The true seminal horror films of any age did just that (think Psycho, Alien, The Shining, The Silence of the Lambs, The Blair Witch Project) taking an idea an audience thinks its well prepared for, only to switch gears on them in as shocking a manner as possible (shower scene, chest burster, etc.) and leave them scrambling to make sense of the new paradigm suddenly thrust upon them. Of course, in order to do that, you need to be able to imagine horror outside of its already firmly established conventions (which change somewhat from culture to culture, hence the early effectiveness of J-horror and French horror flicks in the last decade).
Your other option, of course, is a good deal simpler: Take an existing set of tropes and, like a classic romance flick, tease out the details so it becomes something both familiar and vaguely new at the same time.
When the film opens, Tim Russell (Brenton Thwaites), is just being released from a psychiatric ward, where he’s spent the last eleven years trying to come to grips with a terrible trauma inflicted upon him and his older sister, Kaylie (Karen Gillan). When they were children, their father (Rory Cochrane) started to slowly go insane shortly after the installing a peculiar, antique mirror in his office, in the posh house the family had just relocated. Before too long, he kills their suffering mother (Katee Sackhoff), after torturing her for days, and coming after the children until young Tim (played by Garrett Ryan) finally shoots him in order to protect his sister (played as a girl by Annalise Basso). Released and finally free, Tim quickly reunites with Kaylie, now 23 and engaged to a wealthy auction manager (James Lafferty) at the firm they both work, but she’s still obsessed with that evil mirror and clearing her father’s name.
Acquiring the evil mirror from her auction house, she sets up an elaborate means of gaining revenge: Putting the mirror back on the wall of her father’s office in front of a veritable installation of video cameras, computers and a fail-safe anvil drop in order to capture, on tape, the evil of which she’s convinced that bit of reflective glass is capable.
What Flanagan does, quite effectively, is put us in two more or less simultaneous timestreams: their first encounter with the mirror as kids with their parents, and the present, where the emotionally subdued Tim, thoroughly therapized, tries desperately to convince his sister her mirror conspiracy theory is entirely in her head. The director slips back and forth from the two, often overlapping a bit of dialogue or sound effect in his segue, so that it’s not always immediately apparent which era we are witnessing, and things get ever more compressed together.
The effect is suitably unnerving, at least for a time (though the question must be asked why she doesn’t just throw a brick through the thing before its sufficiently powered up enough to defend itself). We flow back and forth through the horror the siblings experienced as kids, with both of their parents suddenly going off the deep end at once, and their current situation, with the mirror throwing illusion after illusion at them in an attempt to manipulate them into doing its bidding.
Along the way, we get a fascinating history lesson from Kaylie on the subject of the mirror, which has been killing and torturing would-be owners for the better part of four centuries, amassing a significant list of grotesque kills (45, to be exact, she tells the camera helpfully) at every stop. Which is significant, because a good deal of the film’s macabre power lies in Flanagan’s having cultivated such a long and well-thought-out backstory for his demon mirror. It’s this attention to detail, a willingness to put in the intellectual effort in order to disturb us, rather than just rely on lame jump-camera shots and buckets of blood to do the work of scaring us silly, that allows the film to resonate.
Along the way, Flanagan also gets to strike a blow against cognitive therapy (Tim’s studied rationalization eventually turns completely against him), and work by its own rules so as not to guarantee a cuddly ending. Like 2012′s Sinister, the film earns itself a little extra credit by not retracting its claws and going soft at the end. Flanagan sticks to his guns and gives us something creepy to chew on. It’s by no means seminal (though, as these things go, I certainly wouldn’t doubt a sequel in the works), but it’s just careful enough to be effective, more than one can say for a great deal of the blood-spattering genre.
Dir. James Griffiths
Let me put my cards on the table early on this one and say that films centered around dance — tango, ballet, hip-hop, you name it — usually leave me pretty unmoved. This is especially true if the dancing is meant to represent a good deal of the film’s, er, thrust, and not just as a backdrop for a more involved character study, or artistic allegory (ie. Black Swan). Part of it is certainly my own dancing heathenism — surprising no one, dancing just ain’t really my thing — but there is another, more defensible reason: It all too often takes precedence over everything else the film has to offer, and therefore serves as a twirling crutch for all those invariably more complicated and vexing elements such as narrative drive and character coherence.
Sadly, James Griffith’s British dance-off comedy falls squarely into the latter category. It essentially has one joke — a big, heavy bloke who works in industrial machine parts, played by the ever-genial Nick Frost, is actually completely smitten by Latin dancing. It turns out, he used to be a champion salsa dancer in his less heavyset youth, and, in trying to impress his beautiful, new American boss, played by Rashida Jones, he slowly goes through the painful process of attempting to reconnect to his corazón in order to dance again. Like it’s large-sized star, the film means perfectly well, and is amiable enough, but a bland script by Jon Brown, and a paint-by-numbers plot that involves several significantly convenient coincidences and characters ruled by stereotype, pretty much leaves it flat-footed and standing in the corner.
To begin with, it’s exactly the kind of vehicle you would see Will Ferrell starring in, only he would amp up the ridiculousness of the character, and make the stakes seem far more melodramatic than necessary (see Casa de mi Padre for direct evidence). Frost isn’t that sort of larger-than-life fellow, his charm has always been as the good-on-ya best friend to whatever maniac his good friend Simon Pegg has dreamed up for himself. He has to play pretty close to the vest, which allows for solid side work, but becomes more difficult as a leading man.
He plays Bruce, a former schoolboy Salsa champion who, on the night of what should have been his coronation at a national dancing contest, gets singled out by a group of young thugs and has the sequins literally beaten off of him. Discouraged and bitter, he quits the scene to the disappointment of his teacher, the great Ron Parfitt (Ian McShane).
Years later, he’s gone into middle-age with very little to show for himself. He has his industrial mechanics job (and a coffee mug that says “I Love My Lathe”), a handful of friends who get together with him and discuss in detail how none of them are progressing in their sexual lives, and an obnoxious co-worker named Drew (Chris O’Dowd), who delights in calling him fat names and instantly comes on to their pretty new boss, Julia (Jones), when she suddenly takes over the department.
Thing is, it turns out Julia is actually also a Salsa nut, so Bruce gets up the gumption to try and slip on the inch-high suede shoes once again in order to impress her. You can pretty much take it from here — no, please, I insist — as the film does not leave a single fat gag or obvious plot obstacle wanting en route to solving all things for everybody through the sheer power of dance.
Which would be perfectly fine, I suppose, if it were a funnier movie. But despite working very hard to entice you, there really isn’t much here except a thin gruel of fat jokes, gay Arab dancer jokes, and a few brushes with physical comedy. Without terribly much to do, Frost does his best to fill the screen with his character’s pathos, and while he remains largely sympathetic, he’s rarely able to transcend the leaden frame with which he’s been given to work. There simply isn’t enough here to keep us going all the way to the climactic Salsa show-down. Frost is game, and damn if he isn’t lighter on his feet than you might imagine, but no amount of hip thrusts or twirling can entirely make us forget the largely flavorless build-up it took to get us here.